it
My
?
Mee
?â
âI think youâd pronounce it
May
,â the policewoman says, and bends down to the child. âHello,â she smiles gently. âIâm Jan. Whatâs your name?â
âMei!â the child wails, eyes wide, and then calls, âMama, mama,
mama
!â
âOkay, well thatâs a start,â the policewoman says, turning to the others.
âWhere do you live, Mei?â she continues. âWhereâs your house? Can you show us?â
â
Mama!
â Mei just cries even harder.
I feel sick seeing this. How scary would it be to be in someone elseâs lounge room at eleven oâclock on a Monday night without your mum anywhere nearby? Iâd be scared, and Iâm ten! Where
is
her mum?
The policeman says, âWeâll have to call in Family Services.â
The policewoman nods. âIâll take a photo of her and email it over to Missing Persons, in case somebodyâs already registered her as missing.â
She swipes her phone into camera mode and squats down. She smiles again and says, âMei?â and the flash goes off, adding to the weirdness of this whole thing. Not exactly happy snaps time.
Mei is clutching her green blanket and crying loudly.
âIâll put the kettle on,â Mum says going out, and then she returns to the room, to Mei. âWould you like some milk, love? Some warm milk?â
âMama,â comes the sobbing reply.
âMilk?â Mum says, holding up the milk carton and shaking it a little.
Mei cries so hard it hurts to watch.
I war-crawl back along the corridor, getting carpet burns on my elbows as I go.
Notepad!
I instruct my memory.
Once safe inside my room again, I make sure the door stays wedged open a crack so I can hear whatâs going on. Iâm so glad Harryâs not buzzing, because I want a chance to write a few things down in my notebook. I have lots of notebooks. I love them. All stationery, I love.
I go through a couple of karate moves while Iâm thinking. It helps me focus. Itâs sort of like concentrating through moving. I like karatea lot. After a moment I fall onto the bed to scribble down some thoughts.
Then I lie still on my bed, straining to hear as much as possible.
I can hear the sounds of teaspoons in mugs, like the
ding ding ding
of the triangle when we do music with Mrs Stone. Sheâs a hippie and the triangle is in everything we play, even in hip-hop.
In the lounge, theyâve stopped talking.
Harry buzzes rudely.
â
Shhhh
!â I hiss into the intercom. âTheyâll hear you!â
âWhatâs going on, Flop? Your reports are insufficiently frequent. I need an update â now!â
I donât reply.
âFlops? It sounds like R2-D2 is in the lounge â what
is
that?
Heâs getting nothing. I let go of the button.
âFLOPPY! I neeeeeed you,â he whines, trying a different approach. âI canât leave my room without being seen by everyone â Iâm relying on you for intelligence!â
Ha!
I think in his direction.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,
Harry buzzes.
I press my receive button, but stay silent.
âOkay, Pops, okay, I get it, itâs a P thing. P-PP-Pops. Popster. Poppy Pop Pop. Can you give me an update â please, little sis?â
I take a breath. âThe police are here.â
âThe cops?â
âYes, the cops! Theyâve got those radio thingies â I think thatâs what sounds like R2-D2. Mumâs just made them tea.â
âThatâd be right. Have a cup of tea, even in the middle of a massive drama. So, hang on â why are the cops here?â
âSome baby â a girl â really small â has beendropped off here, on her own. At the front door. Without her parents.â
âWhat?â
âI guess sheâs been ⦠abandoned. Or maybe she ran away? Iâm going back out
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