That doesn’t sound so bad. I just nod.
“Stay here,” he says again, backing out of the alleyway. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
I nod again.
“Promise you won’t move?” he says.
I sniffle and give him yet another nod.
“Good,” he says, holding his hands up toward me. “Stay.” And then, without saying anything else, he turns and runs away.
I hope he doesn’t take too long.
While he’s gone I try to get myself cleaned up. My hands are scraped from falling on the pavement, but they don’t hurt too bad, and they’re not bleeding. I wipe them off gently on my jammie pants and then stand up. It’s cold; I want to put my coat back on. I shuffle over and pick it up, shoving my arms through the sleeves and zipping it as fast as I can. Then I wait, bouncing on my tiptoes and doing a little dance tokeep myself warm.
I turn around when I finally hear thumping footsteps growing louder and louder, and I breathe a sigh of relief when the boy rounds the corner, carrying a plastic bag. He’s out of breath, but he jogs over to me anyway, holding the bag out to me. I take it.
“There,” he says, bending over and resting his hands on his knees. He gulps in air for a second before standing up again. Then he points to the bag. “Open it,” he says.
I jump; I was so busy watching him, I forgot to check in the bag. I tear it open now, my stomach rumbling extra loud as the scent of food hits me.
My mouth waters as I dig something warm and wrapped in foil out of the bag. I unwrap it with numb fingers, pulling aside the silver paper to reveal the most delicious-looking sandwich I’ve ever seen. I see egg and sausage and bacon and cheese in there, and the bread is grilled and buttery.
Part of me wants to eat it nice and slow, to savor every bite, but the other part of me is really hungry. I wolf it down, bite after delicious bite of cheesy egg and meat, and when I’m done, I lick every single one of my fingers. Then I sigh happily.
“That good, huh?” the boy asks.
“Yeah,” I say, feeling suddenly shy. “Thank you.”
“Here,” he says, and he takes the bag from me. He reaches in and pulls out a Band-Aid, a really big one. “Put this on.”
I pull off my coat, shivering in the wind, and feel around on my back. I wince when I make contact with the cut. I hold out my hand, and the boy unwraps the bandage quickly, passing it to me with careful hands.
I manage to get it on okay, even though I can’t see back there very well. I’ll check in the mirror when I get home and fix it if I need to. I smile up at the boy.
“Thank you,” I say again. “That was the best sandwich I’ve ever had, and I was having the worst day ever.”
“You want to know what my mom always says?” the boy says.
I nod. I want to know anything he wants to tell me.
“She always says you’ll never come across anything in life that’s too difficult for you. Never more than you can handle.”
Never more than I can handle. I like that. I swallow, finally working up the courage to ask what I’ve been wondering. “What’s your name?”
“Aiden,” he says. He gives me a little smile too, and it’s the best smile in the world. “Now hurry on home, okay?”
I nod. “I’ll go home.” So I head out of the alley, waving at him over my shoulder as I go. I wave until I round a corner and I can’t see him anymore.
The journey home feels a lot shorter than normal, probably since I have that delicious sandwich in my tummy. I skip up the stairs to our apartment, humming to myself. I ease the front door open slowly so I don’t wake Mama, slipping inside and sighing with relief at the warmth.?*
She stirs, though, yawning and stretching. “Hi, baby,” she says, one eye peeking at me. She waves me over, and I skip over to where she’s lying on the couch.
“Hi,” I say.
“Did you find some breakfast?” she says, wrapping one arm around me and letting her head fall back onto her pillow.
“Yes,” I say happily. My tummy is full of the most delicious meal I’ve ever had, thanks to Aiden. I wrap my arms around Mama and snuggle into her.
