Chapter 5: Take It Back

Officer Cobb looked at the five-year-old standing at his front desk, then at me, then at the woman in the quilted vest.

"She wants to take it back," I said.

"Take what back?" he asked.

"The kidnapping," Birdie said. "I want to take it back."

It was Sunday afternoon, and the police station smelled like burnt coffee and floor wax.

Inez had driven us there herself.

She had said, "Of course, honey, let's get it over with," and buckled Birdie in, and hummed the whole way.

I had been so grateful that I had almost hugged her.

Officer Cobb came around the desk and crouched until his eyes were level with Birdie's.

"So it wasn't true?"

"It was true that Mommy said it," Birdie said. "It wasn't true that she did it."

"Then you didn't lie."

"I didn't lie," Birdie said, with great dignity. "I never lie."

"So what are you taking back?"

Birdie thought about it.

Her tongue went into the gap in her front teeth, which is what she does when the question is too big.

"I want it to not have happened," she said.

I put my hand over my mouth.

"That's not how it works, kiddo," Officer Cobb said, not unkindly. "But I can write that you wish it hadn't."

"Okay."

"Can you do me a favor? Can you tell me one thing that isn't true? Just one. So I know you know how."

She looked at me.

I nodded, because it seemed like a fair test.

"My name is Gloria," Birdie said.

"Good."

"Gloria Birdie Kimball." She frowned. "That's not true. It's Birdie. I only did half."

"Try again. Tell me the sky is green."

"The sky is." She squinted at the ceiling. "Gray."

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