SOMETIMES I WONDER: HAVE I MET MY MOTHER? I must have. I was in her stomach. She must have loved me. She must love me. But do I know her? I think of her sometimes. I hear a noise in the hall at night and think it might be her. I see a light across the window and think she must be coming. I know it’s not. But something inside me jumps. I get ready. I close my eyes, so my mother will think I’m asleep and carry me away. Then I fall asleep, because my eyes are closed, and I think about that, and then I wake up. It’s light out. My eyes are open. I see that it’s the same world, dark or light. But I got through the night.

Conrad came to get me and I went back to Sunnyside Plaza. I looked around. I looked at everything. I looked at and counted the 8 times 4 squares of tile on the ceiling of my room, where the 2 times 8 plus 4 are cracked, and 2 times 8 plus 1 still have stains, and walked the 4 times 8 plus 4 stairs from the third floor to the first, calling each step by a number, and the 4 times 8 plus 4 stairs from the first floor to the third. Everything looked the same. Nothing looked wrong.

I went back into the kitchen and saw and counted all the pans, 2 times 8, and the pots, 8 plus 2, and 8 times 3 plus 4 chopping knives, and the 2 graters, and the 3 bowls with holes in the bottom where we plunk greens. I saw the 2 big cans of fruit to be fished on the counter, and the 7 big cans of fruit on the shelf over the refrigerator. I opened and closed the refrigerator. I saw 6 big cartons of milk, 2 big bottles of milk, 5 clumps of broccoli, 3 bags of short carrots, and a big square brick of butter. I counted 4 clear packs of ham and 6 clear packs of orange cheese slices and 1 clear pack of brown beef slices, and 2 bottles of ketchup and 1 bottle of mustard. I saw a package of crackers on the counter, the kind with salt on the top, that Conrad likes to eat and shares with us, and a big silver tub of flour, a tub of salt, a tub of sugar, and a tub where Conrad kept papers and coins and keys. Everything seemed fine. Everything was where it should be. There were 3 blocks of brown bread and 3 blocks of white bread (they tasted about the same, and sometimes Conrad would make me a special sandwich with brown on the bottom and white on the top, which made me giggle).

I went into the room where we ate and where we sometimes drew pictures and made cards. I counted 8 times 3 plus 5 white chairs that screeched when you pushed or pulled them, and 6 square tables and the calendar that showed a picture of a dog with a bow around his neck rubbing his wet nose on a yellow flower.

I walked the 4 times 8 plus 4 stairs from the first floor back to the third floor and lay down on my bed on the second floor and counted the 8 times 4 squares of tile on the ceiling, where the 2 times 8 plus 4 are cracked, and 2 times 8 plus 1 have stains, and tried to figure out what might be wrong at Sunnyside Plaza. What was different? What was wrong? What was out of place? What could go wrong if I didn’t find out?

I closed my eyes and thought: Maybe if I fall asleep, my mother will come for me. Someday, I want a dog, I want to swim, I want to go to the North Pole, I want to wear something and smell like flowers. I want to go back to a baseball game.