2 A.M. at The Cat's Pajamas

1:26 A.M

Madeleine waits until Miss Greene and Ben are a block away before emerging from behind a truck. She hears her teacher’s laughter unfurl like a scarf. Outside the store, produce shines. Madeleine feels around her pockets for change. Nothing. Her stomach protests. She could steal an apple. There are hundreds. She will be fast, dangerous!

Madeleine checks inside the shop, then sleeves a Rome Beauty.

“What have you got there, little girl?” a voice behind her says. It is the store’s clerk. “I have had it today,” he says. “With the drama.”

Madeleine shakes the apple out of her sleeve. “I shouldn’t have taken it.”

The clerk returns it to its stack. “It’s stealing.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“You look familiar.” He narrows his eyes. “Who are you?”

“Madeleine Altimari.”

“Come in here.” He disappears into the store. Madeleine considers escape, but she has attended too many years of Catholic school to run. She follows him. The store is unswept. Bruised canisters of tomatoes. Deflated bags of rice. Madeleine expects to see a cockroach scurry up the walls.

Behind the counter, the clerk loads a hoagie roll with meatballs. A dog at his feet whirrs at the smell. “Not for you,” the clerk says. A television hanging in the corner is tuned to a news report about a famous actress. “Do you think it will help the city’s tourism to have famous people visit?” a reporter asks some yackamo in Fox Chase.

“I don’t have a crystal ball.” The yackamo shrugs.

Madeleine shrugs.

The clerk is satisfied with the heft and bulk of the sandwich. “You want cheese? We’ve got American and Swiss.”

“Any Locatelli?” she says.

“That’s for pasta.”

Madeleine’s voice is sad. “The saltiness brings out the flavor of the meat.”

“You’ll have to eat this one without it.” He wraps the sandwich in aluminum foil and holds it out to her. “Take it,” he says. He readjusts his tack when she balks. “I knew your mother.”

Madeleine knows she should not take food from strangers, but also that the city is a network of her mother’s promises. Hunger punches her stomach. She unwraps half of the sandwich and takes a large bite she can barely control. Her eyes move from the man to the door.

“Got somewhere to go?” he says. The phone behind the counter rings. He answers it.

Madeleine’s mouth is full. “Thank you.” Clutching the sandwich, she runs out of the store.

“Hey!” he calls.

On South Street, clusters of people smoke on the sidewalk. In a church that’s not Saint Anthony’s, a bell chimes. Madeleine catches up to Miss Greene and Ben and follows a gasp behind.