Cate stopped for a second, just outside a little park, and leaned her head against the fence to gather her thoughts. There was a man in there feeding pigeons, and Cate watched him throw the seeds out at the dirty birds. They gathered al around him, pecking at the ground. How gross, she thought. How gross to let those disgusting creatures get close to you.
And then it happened. Cate hadn’t noticed, but there was a net on the ground, and the man bent down and in one swoop had gathered al of the pigeons inside. He picked up the bag of pigeons, walked to a white van, got in the back, and drove away.
Cate looked around, waiting for someone else on the street to react so that they could stop this man. What was he doing? He was stealing pigeons! People walked past Cate on the sidewalk, and she tried to catch someone’s eye, but they al kept walking. No one cared. No one had even noticed. “Didn’t any of you see him?” Cate wanted to scream. “There’s a thief in our midst!” But she didn’t. No one would have listened anyway.
Cate went back to work, sweaty and disoriented. Isabel a looked up as she ran to her desk. “What happened to you?” she asked. Cate shook her head and picked up a bottle of water she’d left on her desk. She unscrewed the top and held up one finger while she chugged most of it.
“You won’t believe me,” she said when she was done. “But you have to believe me.”
“Are you drunk?” Isabel a asked.
“No,” Cate said. “I had some wine. But listen, I have to tel you something. And you have to believe me.”
“Snowy is going to freak out if you aren’t ready for the meeting. It’s in twenty minutes, you know.”
“I know, but just listen to me! Listen.” Cate told her about the pigeons. She described the man who’d scooped them up and taken them away.
Isabel a listened, raising and lowering her eyebrows as the story went on.
“Why would anyone steal pigeons?” she asked when Cate was done.
“I don’t know,” Cate said. “It’s crazy, right?”
“Yes,” Isabel a said. “It’s crazy.”
“You believe me though, right?”
“Cate, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just tel ing you, it was the weirdest thing. He just scooped them up, like it was his job. Like he was sent there to do that.”
Isabel a shrugged. “Maybe it was,” she said. “Maybe he works for the city.”
“No,” Cate said. “I thought of that. The van wasn’t marked.”
Isabel a sighed. “Okay, so it was just some crazy man. Why do you care?”
“It’s not right,” Cate said. “It’s not right that people can just go stealing pigeons in broad daylight.”
“They’re disgusting,” Isabel a said. “I say, let anyone who wants to take them go ahead.”
“But you believe me, right? You know I’m tel ing the truth?”
“Yes,” Isabel a said. “I believe you. Can we just go over the stuff for the meeting now?”
“Yeah,” Cate said. “Okay, sure.”
“Cate, are you sure you’re okay? Did something else happen?” Isabel a asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”
Cate started to write an e-mail to her friends about Bridget, but she didn’t get far. How embarrassing was it that her ex-boyfriend was dating Bridget Carlson? She looked at the sentence she’d typed and erased it. It was pretty embarrassing, she decided. She stared at her computer and tried to figure out how long it would be before everyone knew about Bridget and Jim. Knowing Bridget, she was probably posting it on Facebook right then. Her status would probably read, “Bridget Carlson is madly in love with Jim.” Cate wondered if Bridget had a blog. She hadn’t mentioned it, but if anyone was going to fil the world with pointless information about her life, it would be Bridget. This lunch was probably going to be in Bridget’s memoir.
Isabel a gave Cate suspicious looks al afternoon. Cate tried to ignore her. Once, she started to tel Isabel a what had happened. Isabel a didn’t know Bridget, so she couldn’t possibly know the extent of the awfulness. Cate tried, but she couldn’t get the words out.
Isabel a had saved Cate in the meeting. She’d talked for the both of them, acting as if Cate was involved in the work she’d done. “Thanks,” Cate said to her when they got back to their desks.
Isabel a just shrugged and shook her head. “Sure,” she said. “No problem.”
Isabel a was always so serious. She constantly reminded Cate that she was older, and said things like “When I was your age” and “You’l understand in a few years.” Whenever Cate told her to calm down, she said, “I don’t have any time left to fool around.” Isabel a was only three years older than Cate, but she acted like she was a hundred. If Cate told her about Bridget and Jim, there was a good chance she would shake her head and say, “Oh, children these days.”
Cate’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing the rest of the afternoon, but she refused to answer it. “What is going on?” Isabel a demanded.
“I’m just trying to avoid a phone cal .”
“The stalker?” Isabel a asked. “Why don’t you just look at the cal er ID?”
“No. You don’t know this girl. She could be cal ing from any number.”
