“No thanks,” I said. I thought she wanted to wash the windshield, but instead she went around to the other side and opened the door. “You need a lift someplace?” I asked her. Her body, her face, and her eyes were all round. She was someone you could have drawn a picture of by tracing around dimes and quarters and jar tops. She opened up the blanket and took out something alive. It was a child. She wrapped her blanket around and around it until it became a round bundle with a head. Then she set this bundle down on the seat of my car.
