Miss Jean Bauer and I like the gray streak in her hair but I don't say this. I can tell she likes me even if she doesn't understand me.
"Is that picture your husband?" I say.
"My boyfriend," she says.
"He's handsome."
"Yes, he is," she says.
"Do you have a daughter?" I say.
"No, I don't."
"Do you have a father that you can see and hear and talk to?" I say.
She touches my hand again and says, "It's amazing to me, Caroline, the life you've had so far. Not many people can tell a story like that and now there's so many new opportunities for you. Still," she says, "I wish I could have just followed you around for a day, just to see how you did it all."
"You wouldn't have been able to follow me," I say. "I'd lose you in five minutes. Even with dogs it might not matter."
"Did you grow all the food you ate?" she said. "Your father says you're vegetarians."
"No," I say. "Yes we are vegetarians but we went to Safeway, too. Everyone goes to a store, or eats things they find in the city that other people leave behind."
"Did you take things from other people?"
"Never," I say. "If someone in the forest park drops something, the rule is to wait and count to thirty. Then you can pick it up. Hide. Count again to fifty, to see if anyone comes back. If they do, try to put it in their path a little further along, so they can find it and so you won't be stealing from them."
"So you went to Safeway every two weeks?" she says.
"Everyone has to buy something sometime," I say. "Only maybe Nameless only eats what grows in the forest park."
"Who's that?" she says. "A friend of yours?"
"Not exactly," I say. "It doesn't matter. Is Father somewhere taking tests like this?"
"Kind of," she says. "They've been asking him a lot of questions. He's been very cooperative."
"We're different than you," I say.
"We're just deciding what is the best thing to do," she says again. "You can see that we have to understand where you've been and who you are, first."
I don't know what to say so I just look out the window again. I button the button on the cuff of the shirt they gave me.
"Please," I say. "I don't know what to say. Those are all the things I can think of. Can I not go in with those girls again?"
"Is there a problem?" she says.
"There's not even any books in there," I say. "I can't breathe. I can't even see one tree out the window."
"We don't want to make a mistake," she says. "How about this? How about we try something new?"
She takes out a bright blue box then, thin but as tall and wide as a piece of paper. From a drawer she pulls out a square machine with black and red buttons on it.
"I am wondering if it's all right if I make a tape recording of our conversation," she says. "Would that be all right? If you like, I can give you a copy of the tape to keep."
"All right," I say. "But I already said I'm out of things to say."
Miss Jean Bauer pushes down the red button and I can see the wheels turning inside the clear plastic window. She picks up the blue box again and takes off the top.
"This is a storytelling test," she says. "Actually, it's more like a game. Think of it like a game. I have some pictures here that I am going to show you, and for each picture I want you to make up a story. Tell what has happened before and what is happening now. Say what the people are feeling and thinking and how it will come out. You can make up any kind of story you please. Do you understand? Well, then, get ready for your first picture. You have five minutes to make up a story. See how well you can do."
This takes an hour almost. She keeps telling me if I have more time or if I'm running out even if I can see the minutes going on my watch. The pictures are not easy. There's a woman coming through a door with her face down in her hand and men asleep on the grass resting with their heads on each other and hats over their eyes and one where a girl in a tree watches another girl in a dress running along a beach and holding up her dress out of the
"Is that picture your husband?" I say.
"My boyfriend," she says.
"He's handsome."
"Yes, he is," she says.
"Do you have a daughter?" I say.
"No, I don't."
"Do you have a father that you can see and hear and talk to?" I say.
She touches my hand again and says, "It's amazing to me, Caroline, the life you've had so far. Not many people can tell a story like that and now there's so many new opportunities for you. Still," she says, "I wish I could have just followed you around for a day, just to see how you did it all."
"You wouldn't have been able to follow me," I say. "I'd lose you in five minutes. Even with dogs it might not matter."
"Did you grow all the food you ate?" she said. "Your father says you're vegetarians."
"No," I say. "Yes we are vegetarians but we went to Safeway, too. Everyone goes to a store, or eats things they find in the city that other people leave behind."
"Did you take things from other people?"
"Never," I say. "If someone in the forest park drops something, the rule is to wait and count to thirty. Then you can pick it up. Hide. Count again to fifty, to see if anyone comes back. If they do, try to put it in their path a little further along, so they can find it and so you won't be stealing from them."
"So you went to Safeway every two weeks?" she says.
"Everyone has to buy something sometime," I say. "Only maybe Nameless only eats what grows in the forest park."
"Who's that?" she says. "A friend of yours?"
"Not exactly," I say. "It doesn't matter. Is Father somewhere taking tests like this?"
"Kind of," she says. "They've been asking him a lot of questions. He's been very cooperative."
"We're different than you," I say.
"We're just deciding what is the best thing to do," she says again. "You can see that we have to understand where you've been and who you are, first."
I don't know what to say so I just look out the window again. I button the button on the cuff of the shirt they gave me.
"Please," I say. "I don't know what to say. Those are all the things I can think of. Can I not go in with those girls again?"
"Is there a problem?" she says.
"There's not even any books in there," I say. "I can't breathe. I can't even see one tree out the window."
"We don't want to make a mistake," she says. "How about this? How about we try something new?"
She takes out a bright blue box then, thin but as tall and wide as a piece of paper. From a drawer she pulls out a square machine with black and red buttons on it.
"I am wondering if it's all right if I make a tape recording of our conversation," she says. "Would that be all right? If you like, I can give you a copy of the tape to keep."
"All right," I say. "But I already said I'm out of things to say."
Miss Jean Bauer pushes down the red button and I can see the wheels turning inside the clear plastic window. She picks up the blue box again and takes off the top.
"This is a storytelling test," she says. "Actually, it's more like a game. Think of it like a game. I have some pictures here that I am going to show you, and for each picture I want you to make up a story. Tell what has happened before and what is happening now. Say what the people are feeling and thinking and how it will come out. You can make up any kind of story you please. Do you understand? Well, then, get ready for your first picture. You have five minutes to make up a story. See how well you can do."
This takes an hour almost. She keeps telling me if I have more time or if I'm running out even if I can see the minutes going on my watch. The pictures are not easy. There's a woman coming through a door with her face down in her hand and men asleep on the grass resting with their heads on each other and hats over their eyes and one where a girl in a tree watches another girl in a dress running along a beach and holding up her dress out of the
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