THE WEIRD LITTLE GIRL

I guess she's being no weirder than usual, but I've become worried anyway. When a kid talks about people without heads, draws babies with fangs and says she subsists on nothing but magic beans at home, something is a little off. Today is Saturday, and when I go for a walk this morning, I go out of my way to pass by Bella's address. I was prepared to see an Addams Family style house, but it's nothing special. Small, but it looks nice enough from across the street.

The front door opens just as I am directly across from the house. Bella and her mother emerge. Her mother, wearing some kind of a gypsy dress, is pushing a baby carriage. Bella has seen me and calls me over. I am nervous, but I cross the street.

Bella's mother doesn't speak English. She wears her black hair in a single enormous braid hanging down her back. Her dark, bloodshot eyes are sunk deep in her wrinkled, warty face. She looks just like a witch. She's a perfect match for her husband, but I don't know how she can be the mother of Bella and the infant in the carriage.

She seems twitchy. Now she's looking at me, now she's turned her head to look off in some other direction.

She says something to Bella, who tells me I am invited inside. The living room smells of tobacco and mildew, and is furnished with cheap chairs and a sofa. A bright oriental rug is spread over the drab carpeting and covers most of the floor. Strange icons hang on the wall. There is no TV.

Bella's mother gestures for me to sit on the sofa. The baby crawls on the floor, and I can smell that he needs a new diaper. I don't notice any fangs. Bella and I sit and chat. Her mother has left the room, but now comes back to serve me tea and cookies.

Bella translates as I try to make small talk with her mother. I feel so very sleepy.

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