“I’m sleepy,” complained Mr. Snuggly, and she retreated inside her house.

From the window, she watched the Rev and the child walk out of sight, going west, presumably heading to the Rev’s cottage. Fiji couldn’t help but feel sad at the thought of a child in the sparsely furnished living room, which was the farthest she’d ever penetrated into the Rev’s domain.

She was left to wonder why the Rev had been chosen by the stranger as the caretaker of the child. She knew the Rev had not ever had a child of his own; he had told her that. The postman almost never stopped in front of his house, and Fiji could not remember ever seeing visitors there. At the chapel, yes; two or three times a month, people arranged for the interment of some beloved pet in the large fenced area behind the chapel, and every year four or five couples got married in the chapel proper. Occasionally, someone would stop in front and simply go inside to pray. But that was the extent of the Rev’s communication with anyone in the outside world, as far as Fiji knew.

Though Fiji had had some experience as a babysitter while she was in her teens, it had been years since she had dealt with children of any age. But she realized now she would have to step forward.

She fell asleep that night with Mr. Snuggly curled against her, thinking of Bobo, thinking of adding green onions to the roast the next time she cooked one, thinking of the child.

4

Joe Strong, too, had watched the Rev walking back to his cottage with the child. He’d been so surprised that he’d called Chuy to their front window to see. Their apartment above the shop reflected their love of comfort and color, and Chuy heaved out of his easy chair with some reluctance. He’d been watching television, with a magazine at hand for the commercials.

But the sight was worth getting up for. “The Rev and a kid?” Chuy said. “Boy or girl?”

“I’m sure it’s a boy. I wonder where he came from,” Joe said after a moment of silent wonder. “Looks about four years old, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. The Rev didn’t steal him,” Chuy said, putting his arm around Joe.

Joe kissed the top of Chuy’s head. “Nope, that didn’t cross my mind. If the kid stays more than overnight, he’s going to need some help.”

“Who, the kid or the Rev?”

“Both of them.” Joe shook his head. “I have to say, I feel sorry for the kid.”