“Why are you sad?” Archie asked.
He was visiting the precinct one August afternoon, while Faye ran errands. She ran errands daily.
“How did you know I was sad?”
“You didn’t eat your piece of birthday cake.”
Archie had turned ten that day. The entire squad, including the captain, had sung to him. They’d also all pitched in for a two-wheel bike I promised to teach Archie how to ride. The little uniform had become way too small a while ago. Archie was growing like a weed, everyone who saw him said. He’d been held back after kindergarten, but was now on track, getting good grades and keeping up with the other kids just fine.
“You always eat everything,” he said to me.
“Everything?” I asked.
“You eat a lot!” Archie licked the blue icing off his own face, what he could reach with his tong
