Chapter 6

Sabrina was waiting for her mother outside.

“You’re suspended for two days,” her mother informed her. Then she turned to me and said, “I think we haven’t been properly introduced Mr...”

“Paul,” I said extending my hand.

She shook it. “I’m Mary. Sabrina’s mother as I’m sure you already figured. You stood up for my daughter, thank you. She really needs someone in her corner. I’m afraid I can’t be there for her as much as she deserves.”

“Am I in trouble?” Sabrina asked once we were outside.

“Who started it?”

“Not me.”

Sabrina’s mother looked at me looking for reassurance and I nodded.

“I tried to walk away,” Sabrina added.

I nodded again.

“That’s when I got this.”

She held up his right arm, where new finger-size bruises had begun to form.

Her mother rubbed her forehead.

“How about talking to them?”

Sabrina pointed to her skinned knees, then to her bloody nose.

“The girl gave you a bloody nose, then you slugged her?”

Sabrina squirmed, looked at me, and I gave her a look that I hoped meant ‘you’re on your own.’

“Not exactly,” she finally said, and she gave her mother a short but accurate version of the events.

“Was she calling you names?”

“Some.”

“Sticks and stones, Sabrina.”

I knew as well as anyone that names could hurt.

“What else?” her mother asked.

“She said you...”

Her mother waited.

“I what?”

“Never mind.”

“Sabrina...”

“She said you were a whore,” Sabrina blurted.

I watched Mary’s face and confirmed that names could still hurt.

“Not like I haven’t heard that before,” she said. “You’re not in trouble but I am. Social Services is already after us. I can’t risk us losing you because I left you alone without supervision. You know quite well I can’t pay a nanny. How am I supposed to work if you’re not at school?”

I cleared my throat to draw their attention and offered. “Maybe I can offer you a temporary solution.”

Mary looked at me with a puzzled look on her face, then she looked at Sabrina and she moved her head up and down with a small smile.

“I just got to town and I need someone to show me around. I heard there is a lake not far from here. What I mean is that I would be thrilled to babysit your daughter in exchange for a guide. I know no good mother would trust her daughter to a stranger so, if you need references I can give you my mother’s number. She’s living with my sister.”

I could see the gears working inside Mary’s head, so I punched my mother’s number, talked with her for a few seconds to explain the situation, and handed the phone to Mary.

She moved away to be able to talk in private and returned to us some minutes later.

“Your mother seems to be a very nice person. She speaks highly of you. She assured me that you would take excellent care of Sabrina.”

“She’s my mother. She might be a little biased.”