“Oh, you were just kidding me,” I said.
I was kind of relieved, because I hadn’t eaten for a really long time and I hated for anything to ruin it. It had never occurred to me that anything could ruin a pizza until she started joking about those weird little salty fish.
I pulled up a slice and the cheese stretched out like crazy and I tried to get it all onto the napkin but I got cheese and sauce on her desk and had to try to get it up with another napkin, but no matter how much I scrubbed I could see a little grease there.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said.
I waited for her to take a piece for herself but she never did. She just watched me take a bite, and my eyes sort of rolled back in my head almost, because it was so good. But also I had to remember to go slow with it, because my stomach was all tight and weird from going so long without eating.
“When did you eat last?” she asked me. Like she read minds or something.
“I had a banana right before I found that baby, but also before that I hadn’t eaten all day.”
“I see. So when you said you were starving, you were speaking literally.”
“I guess,” I said, because for some reason I was feeling uncomfortable again and like I wanted to run away.
“So the baby had nothing for that whole twenty-four hours?”
“No, she did. She had a bottle of apple juice and a whole box of goldfish crackers. My friend Bodhi got them for us and he found us that hiding place and he went off to call the police and tell them how I found the baby. But then he never came back, so I was thinking he got arrested.”
“And you didn’t eat a single one of the crackers in all that time?”
“No, ma’am. I was afraid there wouldn’t be enough for the baby.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. She just had this look on her face that I couldn’t quite figure out, but I wasn’t afraid of it, so that was a good sign. Mostly I’m afraid of what people are thinking, especially about me. So I just ate my pizza and waited for her to have more questions.
“Why do you think your friend got arrested?” she asked me after a time.
I had finished my piece of pizza, because I wasn’t going slow like I was supposed to at all. I was just staring at the box because I wasn’t sure if it was okay to take another piece, because maybe the rest was for her.
“He takes things sometimes,” I said, and hoped she wouldn’t ask me any more about him. I felt bad telling the police things about Bodhi behind his back.
She was staring at her computer and clicking around a little on there, but I could only see the back of the lid of her laptop, not what she was looking at.
“What’s your friend’s name?” she asked me after a little clicking.
“Well, see, that’s the problem right there, ma’am. I don’t really know. He calls himself Bodhi but I don’t figure that’s his real name, more like a street name you give yourself. But as far as, like, his real name that he would have to give to the police, well, I never knew it. When people are on the street like that there are a bunch of things you don’t ask them, because not everybody wants to talk about the way it was before.”
She frowned, but didn’t stop clicking. I was surprised, because I figured she would just close the laptop lid and tell me she couldn’t help me if I didn’t know the simplest things like my friend’s name.
“How old is he?”
“Nineteen, I think.”
I sat quiet for a minute and then made myself get brave again and I asked her, “Can I have another piece?”
She seemed surprised that I asked that. She said, “Of course. Have all you want. I got it for you.”
I could feel my eyes get big.
“The whole thing?”
“Well, I didn’t figure you could eat that much, but I figured you’d eat all you could and then I’d see if one of the guys wanted the leftovers.”
I grabbed for the box and pulled it closer and took another piece. But then, before I took a bite, I realized I was not saying what I should be saying—you know, to be a good person and all.
“Thank you,” I said. “That was really nice of you.”
She just nodded and kept clicking, so I started on the second piece.
“Is this your friend?”
She turned the computer around and showed me a mug shot of a boy about Bodhi’s age, a stranger, looking really mad and down, like his life was crap in that minute. Which I guess it was, since he was arrested.
“No, ma’am.”
She turned the computer back around and looked and clicked some more.
“What was with that lady?” I asked.
I’d been wanting to ask it but also thinking I shouldn’t, like it was none of my business or something. Like I really thought she should’ve been nicer to me, but on the other hand I didn’t figure I had a right to feel that way, and any adult would tell me so.
“Which lady is that?” she asked.
It seemed like a weird question, because who else could I be talking about? I guess her mind was just into what she was doing, looking for nineteen-year-old boys who got arrested the night before. In this town there must’ve been quite a few.
“That lady who’s the baby’s mother.”
“Oh, that,” she said. She stopped looking at her computer and looked up at me, which felt uncomfortable and made me wish I’d left well enough alone. “Right. I know you were expecting a little more gratitude than you got.”
“How do you know
