“What’s the schedule tomorrow, Maggie?” Guido asked.
“The Florence Crittenton Home for unwed mothers in the morning, then Pop Warner cheerleader practice out in Orange County in the afternoon. Think you can get us to Yorba Linda?”
He curled his lip. “I’d rather go to Natchitoches.”
“Maybe next time,” I said.
The waitress set pastrami sandwiches in front of us that were at least five inches high, no exaggeration. As she set a squeeze bottle of yellow mustard in the middle of the table, she smiled maternally. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Yes, please,” Pisces said with a smile. “A doggie bag.”
The waitress drew back, disapproving. “You haven’t eaten anything yet, honey. You pile into that sandwich, and when you’re finished we’ll talk about a doggie bag.”
I started to laugh at the nerviness of the waitress, but stopped when I saw that Pisces was not amused. I guessed she might have later plans for her meal. The way she had devoured her salad, I knew she was hungry. In her position I would have mouthed off to the waitress. But Pisces docilely followed instructions and began to eat. At first, she only nibbled at the edges of the sandwich. In the end, there was nothing on her plate except a few strips of gristle. I couldn’t even finish half of my serving, and neither could Guido.
When the waitress came back with the check, she picked up Pisces’ plate first. I could have smacked the smug look off her powdered face. She said, “Well, young lady, I guess you were hungry after all.”
“I guess so.” Pisces seemed subdued. She seemed to have a lot on her mind. Maybe the end of dinner meant the beginning of whatever came next. I could not imagine seeing this child go back out onto the street. I was also powerless to stop her if that’s what she decided to do.
I handed up my plate to the waitress with its half sandwich. “May I have a doggie bag? Guido needs one, too.”
As the waitress walked away again, Pisces said, “If you take the bread off the meat before you put the sandwich away, it won’t get all soggy.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I said. “It’s a lot of food. You know, Guido and I probably won’t have a chance to get to it tomorrow. We’ll be out all day. Be a shame to let it go to waste. Would you like to take the bags home with you?”
“Yes, thank you.” She looked into her lap when her chin quivered. “Thank you for dinner. It was very good.”
“Pisces.” I touched her hand, and saw her tense up. “Please let me take you to a shelter?”
She shook her head. “I’m all right. I have an okay place to sleep.”
“What does ‘okay’ mean?” Guido challenged. “You have an apartment, a room, what?”
“This shelter,” she said, raising her face. “They don’t ask a lot of questions?”
“As long as you’re fourteen, there are no questions,” I assured her.
“What if you’re nine?” she asked.
Guido snapped to. “You’re nine?”
“No. I told you, I’m fourteen. But what happens to a kid who’s only nine?”
“If she’s that young,” I said, “Child Protective Services has to be called. A kid that young shouldn’t even be crossing the street alone. Not that you should, either.”
The waitress came back with change and two doggie bags. “Thank you.” She smiled. “Have a nice evening.”
Pisces wiped her hands on her napkin and sat forward on the seat, ready to go. She seemed resigned.
“What about the shelter?” I asked.
She shook her head and frowned. “There’s someone I have to look after.”
The implications of her soft statement were not lost on Guido. When he looked up at me with dew in his eyes, I knew he also was doomed where this girl was concerned.
“I just thought of another place you might go,” I said as we slid out of the booth. “A good friend of mine. You’d like her. You wouldn’t have to say anything to her that you didn’t want to.”
Guido looked more hopeful than Pisces. “Really? Who?”
“Let me call her first, just to make sure it’s okay.”
Guido fished out two dimes again. There was a telephone booth in the back by the rest rooms. I walked back alone and placed the call to Sister Agnes Peter, an old friend, a professional easy touch.
“Pete,” I said. “It’s Maggie MacGowen.”
“How nice to hear from you.” Her voice was hearty, like a PE teacher’s. “Are you in town?”
“Yes. I’m working on a film, and I’ve run into a situation with one of my subjects. I need your help.”
She laughed. “Dare I ask?”
“Do you have a couple of extra beds for the night?”
“Certainly. You know the address. The front light is on.”
“Bless you. We’ll be there within the hour.”
I walked back to Guido and Pisces, smiled at their expectant faces. “All set.”
The girl wasn’t ready to accept anything yet. “Your friend said we could come?”
“Yes. She’s waiting. I told her there will be two of you.” Pisces’ chin began to quiver. I put my arm around her, and this time she did not flinch.
“Did you tell her who I am?” she asked.
“I don’t know who you are,” I said.
She pulled at her tight skirt self-consciously, and sniffled a couple of times. “I mean, what I do.”
“You can tell her anything you want her to know. Or tell her nothing. She’ll like you, don’t worry. That’s what her job is.
Pisces was working on the possibilities when I explained, “She’s a nun.”
“What about this other kid?” Guido asked. “Where is she?”
“He,” Pisces corrected. She turned toward the glass front door and pointed outside. “He’s right there.”
I followed where she was pointing, but I didn’t see anything except the straggly shrubbery lining the sidewalk. He must have been crouching there behind the low planter. When we opened the door, he stood and revealed himself. When he turned toward us, the light from the full moon hit his small face the way high beams catch roadkill.
CHAPTER 2
The boy was a foul-mouthed, evil-smelling little wretch. Pisces said he was nine, she called him Sly. He looked old, not like a wizened old man, more like a small animal. Something feral.
Pisces handed him the bags of leftover sandwiches. He ate quickly, standing hunched over the food protectively while he tucked it in. I was trying to visualize a few frames of his dirty freckled face edited among some spick-and-span Little Leaguers I had in my film files when he looked up and caught me staring.
“What the fuck you watching?” he demanded through a mouthful, spewing crumbs. “Get outta my face.”
Pisces snapped, “Shut your mouth when you chew.”
“Fuck that. Fuck them,” he sneered. “What they hangin’ here for?”
“They’re all right,” Pisces assured him. “They have a place for us to sleep tonight.”
“We already have a place,” Sly snapped.
“I want a shower,” she said. “And you need one.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
Guido put a hand between them before they came to blows. “You two related?”
“Related to this whore?” Sly sneered. “Fuck that.”
“Wipe your face,” Pisces admonished the boy. “You eat like a pig.”
Sly obeyed her by wiping his face. I was having some difficulty sorting out this relationship. In the restaurant Pisces had said there was someone she looked after. After meeting the boy, I had to wonder who actually looked after whom. She seemed to be trying to mother him, but on matters of street survival, I suspected that he was the pro. He had doubtless scripted her hooker routine. All by herself, the little girl I’d had dinner with would not have been able to come up with the line of garbage she had fed me.
“So?” Guido said, gathering up the boy’s sandwich litter from the sidewalk. “Are you coming, or what?”
Sly eyed him. “You cops?”