I brought with me,” Joe called as they came in.
“Good,” Chuy said. He was bent over the manicure station working on a customer. Joe was not too surprised to find that Fiji was getting her nails done, though that was a rare occurrence. “Chuy, this is Diederik,” Joe said formally. “And you remember Miss Fiji?”
Fiji just happened to have brought a basket of muffins and a thermos of orange juice with her. When she offered some to Diederik, his whole face lit up. “We had oatmeal at the Rev’s house,” the boy said in his oddly accented English. “It was fine,” he added politely. “But these are very good. And thank you for my clothes.”
Fiji smiled. “Glad you like the muffins
and
the clothes.” Chuy was painting her nails a creamy light orange, and after Diederik had consumed a muffin, he came close to watch. He was fascinated by the process. “Does your mom get manicures?” Chuy asked.
“I never saw her do that,” the boy said. He looked suddenly, profoundly unhappy.
“How old are you, Diederik?” Fiji said instantly, trying to erase the unhappiness.
“I am not as old as I look, but we grow up faster than . . .” The boy hesitated. “Most people,” he finished.
“You look like you’re about ten years old,” Fiji said, smiling. Then she looked at him again. “Or maybe older,” she added.
“Oh! I’m not.” Diederik laughed, but he also looked a little anxious.
Joe noticed that the boy had dodged saying whether he was older or younger, and he had to respect the boy’s privacy, though he was just as curious as Fiji. They glanced at each other; Joe understood that she would not question the boy further.
After Joe had finished Fiji’s manicure, he asked Diederik to sweep up around the station after wiping it down, and Diederik jumped at the chance to be useful. This was a boy who really wanted to be busy, a boy who wasn’t used to sitting idle, much less kneeling in the bleak chapel with the Rev in meditation. Joe made a mental note to suggest to the Rev it was probably time to weed the pet cemetery and do the lawn mowing and bush trimming behind the chapel in the confines of the high fence. The pet cemetery was the prettiest place in Midnight, aside from Fiji’s yard, which always had flowers in bloom except in the dead of winter.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Fiji was saying, as if she’d read Joe’s thoughts, “you can come to help me in my garden in the morning. Have you ever done yard work?”
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“If I show you what weeds to pull, I’m sure you can do that. It would be a big help to me. I won’t be torn between the shop and the yard.” Fiji looked happy. “I’ll stop by the chapel to see if I can clear that with the Rev.”
Diederik looked pleased. “Thanks, and have a nice day,” he said, just like a flight attendant when the passengers were exiting theplane. “Maybe I will see you tomorrow. Thank you for the muffins and orange juice.” Fiji left with an empty basket.
“Whoever brought him up did it right,” Chuy murmured. Diederik did a good job of cleaning the manicure station. Next he helped Joe dust all the antiques. Joe showed him a secret drawer in an old desk, which Diederik found appropriately cool. Chuy remembered he had a set of jacks left by a client’s child, and after he taught Diederik how to play, the boy enjoyed it very much.
And he was unbelievably fast.
By and by, it was time for lunch. Joe and Chuy took Diederik across the street to Home Cookin and introduced him to Madonna and little Grady.
Oddly, Diederik didn’t seem to know what to make of Grady, especially when he found out Grady was over a year old. Grady was going from stool to stool in front of the counter, but he didn’t seem to mind being lifted into his playpen when Madonna was too busy cooking and serving to keep an eye on him. She always acknowledged offers to watch him with dignified thanks, but clearly she was sure it was her job to keep the
“Good,” Chuy said. He was bent over the manicure station working on a customer. Joe was not too surprised to find that Fiji was getting her nails done, though that was a rare occurrence. “Chuy, this is Diederik,” Joe said formally. “And you remember Miss Fiji?”
Fiji just happened to have brought a basket of muffins and a thermos of orange juice with her. When she offered some to Diederik, his whole face lit up. “We had oatmeal at the Rev’s house,” the boy said in his oddly accented English. “It was fine,” he added politely. “But these are very good. And thank you for my clothes.”
Fiji smiled. “Glad you like the muffins
and
the clothes.” Chuy was painting her nails a creamy light orange, and after Diederik had consumed a muffin, he came close to watch. He was fascinated by the process. “Does your mom get manicures?” Chuy asked.
“I never saw her do that,” the boy said. He looked suddenly, profoundly unhappy.
“How old are you, Diederik?” Fiji said instantly, trying to erase the unhappiness.
“I am not as old as I look, but we grow up faster than . . .” The boy hesitated. “Most people,” he finished.
“You look like you’re about ten years old,” Fiji said, smiling. Then she looked at him again. “Or maybe older,” she added.
“Oh! I’m not.” Diederik laughed, but he also looked a little anxious.
Joe noticed that the boy had dodged saying whether he was older or younger, and he had to respect the boy’s privacy, though he was just as curious as Fiji. They glanced at each other; Joe understood that she would not question the boy further.
After Joe had finished Fiji’s manicure, he asked Diederik to sweep up around the station after wiping it down, and Diederik jumped at the chance to be useful. This was a boy who really wanted to be busy, a boy who wasn’t used to sitting idle, much less kneeling in the bleak chapel with the Rev in meditation. Joe made a mental note to suggest to the Rev it was probably time to weed the pet cemetery and do the lawn mowing and bush trimming behind the chapel in the confines of the high fence. The pet cemetery was the prettiest place in Midnight, aside from Fiji’s yard, which always had flowers in bloom except in the dead of winter.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Fiji was saying, as if she’d read Joe’s thoughts, “you can come to help me in my garden in the morning. Have you ever done yard work?”
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“If I show you what weeds to pull, I’m sure you can do that. It would be a big help to me. I won’t be torn between the shop and the yard.” Fiji looked happy. “I’ll stop by the chapel to see if I can clear that with the Rev.”
Diederik looked pleased. “Thanks, and have a nice day,” he said, just like a flight attendant when the passengers were exiting theplane. “Maybe I will see you tomorrow. Thank you for the muffins and orange juice.” Fiji left with an empty basket.
“Whoever brought him up did it right,” Chuy murmured. Diederik did a good job of cleaning the manicure station. Next he helped Joe dust all the antiques. Joe showed him a secret drawer in an old desk, which Diederik found appropriately cool. Chuy remembered he had a set of jacks left by a client’s child, and after he taught Diederik how to play, the boy enjoyed it very much.
And he was unbelievably fast.
By and by, it was time for lunch. Joe and Chuy took Diederik across the street to Home Cookin and introduced him to Madonna and little Grady.
Oddly, Diederik didn’t seem to know what to make of Grady, especially when he found out Grady was over a year old. Grady was going from stool to stool in front of the counter, but he didn’t seem to mind being lifted into his playpen when Madonna was too busy cooking and serving to keep an eye on him. She always acknowledged offers to watch him with dignified thanks, but clearly she was sure it was her job to keep the
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