asked from a woman as attractive as Maria. “Did he know you wanted a ticket?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “I offered to buy one, but he said he did not want money. I did not like the way he spoke to me, but I wanted the ticket. I told him about Miguelito, my little brother who lives with us, but he only laughed. He said—”
“Wait a minute, I don’t understand. Where does your little brother come into this?”
“I wanted to give him the ticket.” She cleared her throat. “He would not know that I had stolen it. You see, Miguel is only eleven. Two years ago, when we lived outside Rachelplona, there was an accident. A soldier shot him, and his leg never mended properly. He is ashamed of his crutches, yet he lives for futbol . The players, they are his gods that he worships. We tried to buy him a ticket, but only standing space was available to the public. Miguelito would never be able to manage there among the crowds of big men. But Senõr Taggart had tickets for seats.”
“And Wayne Taggart knew about your little brother?”
“He said that if I wanted a ticket badly enough, I would find a way to get one. Then he excused himself; he said he had to leave his office for a short while. He said that perhaps by the time he returned, I would have thought of a way.” She paused and looked up at Sharon, her eyes searching for understanding. “I am not -naive. I knew what he wanted. It made me angry. That is why I stole—or tried to steal. As it turned out, he was too clever for me and came back before I had expected him.”
From her handbag, Sharon took out one of her own complimentary tickets. “I want you to have this,” she said, handing it across the console to Maria. “And I want you to continue working for UBC, if you will.”
Maria stared at the ticket and at Sharon as though unable to believe what she saw or heard, stammering her thanks both in Spanish and English.
“Forget it,” Sharon said. “I’m just sorry it had to happen. Not a very good introduction to American TV people, I’m afraid. I’ll see you in the morning, all right? We start here at eight.”
“You are kind, Miss Foster.” Maria had her voice under control now. “I would like to be able to repay your kindness.” Her eyes were on the stack of papers in front of Sharon. “And I see you’re working late. Is there something I might do to help you finish sooner?”
“Can’t think of a thing,” Sharon said, automatically. Then she remembered. “No, I take that back. You might tell me if you know of a working photocopy machine around here that I could use. Ours is jammed, and I’ve got to get copies of these camera placements made for tomorrow morning’s rehearsal.”
“Oh, let me do it for you,” Maria said eagerly. “I can take your papers across to the security office for the stadium. Raul is on duty tonight, and I can borrow his key and have your copies back here in ten minutes.”
Good, thought Sharon. That would save some time, and maybe when Maria was through, she would feel as though she had returned Sharon’s “kindness.” It embarrassed Sharon to have Maria feeling obligated to her for something that was only a matter of common decency.
“Okay,” she said. “I need six copies, of the first page only. As a matter of fact, one of the copies is supposed to go to stadium security. If you could leave it there with a note from me explaining what it’s for, that would save me time in the morning.”
Alone in the security office minutes later, Maria made six copies of the first page of the stadium plans, wrote a note, attached it to one of the copies, and placed it carefully on the supervisor’s desk. Then she went back to the photocopy machine and made single copies of the remaining pages of the plans. She put those copies in her purse, switched off the machine, and picked up the originals of the plans and stacked them neatly with the duplicates of the first page. Then she turned out the lights and
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “I offered to buy one, but he said he did not want money. I did not like the way he spoke to me, but I wanted the ticket. I told him about Miguelito, my little brother who lives with us, but he only laughed. He said—”
“Wait a minute, I don’t understand. Where does your little brother come into this?”
“I wanted to give him the ticket.” She cleared her throat. “He would not know that I had stolen it. You see, Miguel is only eleven. Two years ago, when we lived outside Rachelplona, there was an accident. A soldier shot him, and his leg never mended properly. He is ashamed of his crutches, yet he lives for futbol . The players, they are his gods that he worships. We tried to buy him a ticket, but only standing space was available to the public. Miguelito would never be able to manage there among the crowds of big men. But Senõr Taggart had tickets for seats.”
“And Wayne Taggart knew about your little brother?”
“He said that if I wanted a ticket badly enough, I would find a way to get one. Then he excused himself; he said he had to leave his office for a short while. He said that perhaps by the time he returned, I would have thought of a way.” She paused and looked up at Sharon, her eyes searching for understanding. “I am not -naive. I knew what he wanted. It made me angry. That is why I stole—or tried to steal. As it turned out, he was too clever for me and came back before I had expected him.”
From her handbag, Sharon took out one of her own complimentary tickets. “I want you to have this,” she said, handing it across the console to Maria. “And I want you to continue working for UBC, if you will.”
Maria stared at the ticket and at Sharon as though unable to believe what she saw or heard, stammering her thanks both in Spanish and English.
“Forget it,” Sharon said. “I’m just sorry it had to happen. Not a very good introduction to American TV people, I’m afraid. I’ll see you in the morning, all right? We start here at eight.”
“You are kind, Miss Foster.” Maria had her voice under control now. “I would like to be able to repay your kindness.” Her eyes were on the stack of papers in front of Sharon. “And I see you’re working late. Is there something I might do to help you finish sooner?”
“Can’t think of a thing,” Sharon said, automatically. Then she remembered. “No, I take that back. You might tell me if you know of a working photocopy machine around here that I could use. Ours is jammed, and I’ve got to get copies of these camera placements made for tomorrow morning’s rehearsal.”
“Oh, let me do it for you,” Maria said eagerly. “I can take your papers across to the security office for the stadium. Raul is on duty tonight, and I can borrow his key and have your copies back here in ten minutes.”
Good, thought Sharon. That would save some time, and maybe when Maria was through, she would feel as though she had returned Sharon’s “kindness.” It embarrassed Sharon to have Maria feeling obligated to her for something that was only a matter of common decency.
“Okay,” she said. “I need six copies, of the first page only. As a matter of fact, one of the copies is supposed to go to stadium security. If you could leave it there with a note from me explaining what it’s for, that would save me time in the morning.”
Alone in the security office minutes later, Maria made six copies of the first page of the stadium plans, wrote a note, attached it to one of the copies, and placed it carefully on the supervisor’s desk. Then she went back to the photocopy machine and made single copies of the remaining pages of the plans. She put those copies in her purse, switched off the machine, and picked up the originals of the plans and stacked them neatly with the duplicates of the first page. Then she turned out the lights and
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