She put out her hand. He shook it carefully.
'How do you do, ma'am,' Z said.
'Susan,' she said.
'Yes, ma'am.'
Susan looked at me.
'Is he always this polite?' she said.
'He's intimidated,' I said.
'Poor Injun boy,' he said. 'Off the reservation.'
'What kind of Indian are you?' Susan said.
'Cree,' Z said.
'And where are Crees from?' Susan said.
'You mean before Paleface steal our land.'
'Yes, that's what I meant,' Susan said.
'Northern plains,' Z said.
Susan looked at me.
'Susan's geography is pretty well limited to Harvard Square,' I said to Z.
'Montana, Wyoming,' Z said. 'Saskatchewan, Alberta. Around there.'
Susan smiled and nodded just as if she knew where those places were. I knew, and she knew I knew, that she didn't know which direction north was.
'Do you speak Cree?' Susan said.
Z rattled off an answer in Cree.
'Oh, good,' Susan said. 'I like that the language stays alive.'
'Mother could speak,' Z said.
'You were close to her?' Susan said.
'No,' Z said.
'Either of your parents?' Susan said.
'Drunks,' Z said.
'Would you prefer to be called a Native American?' Susan said.
'No,' Z said. 'We're not natives, no more than you. Just come here sooner from someplace else.'
Susan nodded.
'My date, here, has promised me breakfast. Care to join us?'
'Breakfast?' Z said. 'It's quarter of one.'
'I never eat before I work out,' Susan said. 'It's a great diner in Watertown. Close.'
'No, thank you, ma'am,' Z said. 'Ate breakfast already.'
He stood.
'Nice meeting you,' Z said.
'And you,' Susan said.
Z turned and headed off across the stadium. We watched him go.
'My goodness,' Susan said.
'Most I've ever heard him speak,' I said. 'Christ, he was even sort of humorous.'
'Not only did he talk,' Susan said. 'He sounded rather like you.'
'You think?'
'I do,' she said.
'Who better?' I said.
'No one, if your goal is to be a wiseass.'
I grinned at her.
'What better?' I said.
'He looks good,' Susan said.
'And,' I said, 'he admired your tush.'
'See, he's very nice.'
