Drafts bolted out from between the buildings and ran down the street from east to west. I pulled my hat down and offered Mom my scarf to add to hers.
“I’m fine, Zelda girl. Don’t you worry about me,” she said.
I had already started formulating a plan about what to order for dessert when we reached the tiny cupcake shop. Theshopwasn’t tiny—not with its broad, shining steel counters, and generously-sized display cases—but the cupcakes were.
The flavors marched in perfect rows: miniature peanut butter and jelly cupcakes, chocolate chip pancake cupcakes, tie-dye-colored cupcakes, cookie dough cupcakes, and many more. Every kind of cupcake flavor you could imagine, all in bite-sized form. If you were going to buy a dozen, it paid to have a battle plan going in.
While my mother wrung her hands and hemmed and hawed over the many choices, I confidently rattled off eleven of the best. “Did I miss any you wanted?” I asked her.
“What about the white chocolate hot cocoa one?”
“And one white chocolate hot cocoa cupcake,” I finished, to the shop clerk.
They boxed the order in a clear plastic container and slid it across the steel counter.
We took our prize and returned to the cold night, heading back to a more populated street to catch a cab. The walk was quieter than usual, the neighborhood emptied like the Hudson Theater stage after a show.
So quiet, in fact, that I heard a soft voice down down the alley we were passing.
A soft voice saying my name.
Zelda.
I stopped short. “Was that you?”
“Waswhatme?”
“You didn’t say my name?”
“No, I didn’t say your name.”
I peered down the alley. Nothing but dripping gutters and a shattered wooden crate.
Zelda. The voice drifted like a dry leaf, scraping along the stone sides of the buildings.
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Someone is in that alley, and they’re saying my name.”
Mom clung to my arm. “Don’t you eventhinkabout going in there. Someone will bop you on the head and steal all your money.”
“All five bucks? Oh, no!”
“Don’t sass your mother.”
I squeezed her hand with affection as I removed it from my arm. “Hold the cupcakes. I’ll be right back.”
“Zelda Hawkins, don’t you dare leave me here!”
I was already moving into the alley. No normal person would go into a dark alley late at night. But I wasn’t normal, not by a long shot. I’d left normal behind when I first crossed the threshold of Victorine’s Upper East Side mansion.
The spinning drafts of cold air increased. Discarded candy wrappers tumbled across the ground. Above me, the moon hung in the gap between buildings. Behind me, my mother’s anxious silhouette.
Zelda.
“All right,” I said, slowly turning to survey every bit of the alley I could see. “I’ve been to a Broadway show. I’ve had enough theatrics for one night. What do you want?”
