Halfway over the Brooklyn Bridge the PD radio blasts the news: they’ve got Orlov in custody. We also learn that Valerina’s baby will be getting a total medical examination. They’re bringing the baby over to GUH. Very thorough, very top-level. Top-flight pediatricians. Blood pressure, cardiogram, blood tests. The works. I’m still numb, but happy numb, almost like being stoned.

As soon as the car arrives at GUH, we jump out and rush like mad to one of the pediatric examination rooms. This is a big deal, real big. Along with three pediatricians, they’ve got a hematologist, two cardiologists, even a dermatologist, for God’s sake, for my sake, for Tyonna’s sake. Also in the examination room are a social worker, two NYPD officers, and—whaddya know—Leon Blumenthal.

“This baby made it through like a star,” one of the pediatricians tells me.

I’d still like to slap Blumenthal’s face, but I figure one of us has to speak first. And it looks like it’s going to be me.

“I’ve got to call Sabryna,” I say.

Blumenthal nods. It’s quite the conversation.

Then I tap Sabryna’s number on my cell phone. She’s somewhere between frantic and furious.

“Whaddya do with the baby, Lucy, take her on a boat to China?” she says. “Tyonna is my responsibility. Where is she?”

“I should have called. I’m sorry. Tyonna’s at the hospital, my hospital, GUH, with me. Everything’s fine,” I say.

“Well, why wouldn’t everything be fine?” asks Sabryna. “How come you brought her into the city?” she asks, the word city being every Brooklynite’s name for Manhattan.

“No special reason. I wanted to look in on a few things, and I thought Tyonna might want to see where she was born.”

Where’d that come from? I’m just not good at the task of lying.

“I think you’re a crazy lady, Lucy. You better get her back here right now,” says Sabryna. “You hear me, crazy lady? Right now.” Oh, Sabryna’s angry, but I can tell that she may be calming down a bit. She’s most likely pleased that Tyonna is good.

“I’ll be back there in Crown Heights in less than an hour. I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” Then we say good-bye. Well, I say good-bye. Sabryna hangs up the phone.

I watch a nurse give the baby a sponge bath, put a clean diaper on her, and rub cream on the baby’s pudgy little legs. Then finally Blumenthal speaks.

“Lucky Lucy,” he says.

“What?” I say.

“Lucky Lucy. If you were a boat, that’s what we’d name the boat.” For good measure he repeats the name of the make-believe boat: “Lucky Lucy.”

“Lucky?” I say angrily. “Two goddamn days in a row I’ve been mugged!”