I decided to sit outside

the very next day

and wait for my letter from Bibi.

“Today?” my mom asked.

“Today,” I answered.

“But you just sent your letter to Bibi,” my mom said.

“The mail takes time.

It’s much too soon to get Bibi’s letter back.”

“I know,” I said.

But I thought,

Maybe it will come.

Maybe.

So I said, “I want to wait anyway.”

“Natalie will be here soon,” my mom said.

“Maybe she will wait with you.”

As soon as Natalie walked in I said,

“I want to sit outside and wait for a letter from Bibi.”

My parents must have told Natalie about Bibi.

Because she didn’t ask any questions.

She just said, “That sounds nice.”

Together we went outside

and sat on a bench across the street from my building

and waited for Bibi’s letter.

“You look to the left,” I said,

“and I’ll look to the right.”

So Natalie looked to the left.

And I looked to the right.

And we watched carefully for the mail.

We saw lots of things.

I saw a baby in a stroller

crying and crying and crying

all the way down the block

while its mother said,

“Shh shh shh shh shh.”

I figured that baby was tired.

Natalie saw a plastic grocery bag,

hanging from the branch of a tree, swaying.

“Like a magnolia,” she said.

“A plastic grocery bag magnolia.”

I saw Agnes and her brother walking toward the park.

I waved at Agnes

and she waved back at me.

“That’s Agnes from upstairs,” I told Natalie.

“You should hear her sing.”

Together we counted three,

then four,

then five

joggers rushing by,

their faces drip drip dripping from the heat.

And then we saw the ice-cream truck

turning the corner

playing its tune.

We hopped up

and ran after it

and bought soft ice-cream cones

dipped in chocolate.

We ate those cones up fast,

before they melted.

And when we got back to our bench,

there she was.

The mail carrier lady.

Wheeling her big bag of mail

up the path to our building.

“Wait!” we yelled. “Wait!”