Diego (pt. 4)

From the corner, which was dimly-lit, so I had to squint my eyes so I could see, came a little girl. The way she looked, it appeared she hadn’t eaten or bathed in days. “What’s your name, darling?” She replied, very quietly, “I-I don’t know. Do I have one?” Kind of perplexed at her response, I replied, “You should.” “Okay, what do you want me to call you?” Well, what she told me I can’t repeat but it was apparent someone had called her this, maybe a father or an uncle. “I’m going to call you Sarah.” “I like that name,” she said, this time in a louder voice as if she has begun to trust me. “Hey mister. Can we get something to eat?” Crap. I didn’t want to say no, because I could tell she really was hungry, but at the same time I’m the most wanted man in town and I came here to the station to turn myself in. Wait. I have an idea. “Sure we can Sarah. Hold on.” I’m going to call James. 1

“Hey James! How’s it going?” It didn’t seem to thrilled to hear my voice, I could tell it in his. “What do you want?” So I told him my current scenario and what I needed from him. “Okay? You got it?” “Yes Diego, I’ve got it. Get you and the girl food at the corner café and bring it to the station. Oh my gosh, that’s so hard.” “You don’t have to be sarcastic about it. Anyway, thanks buddy.” From there I hung up with him.2

"So Sarah, are you ready to eat?" But Sarah was gone. And she didn’t even know my name yet.
To her, I was just “Mister”.