"Excuse me, miss?" said an old woman in a nun's outfit. "Miss? Miss?" she repeated. The nun began prodding Glenda with her pointer finger. "Miss, I'm sorry to wake you, but I need your help." Glenda felt the poking on her arm, but could barely register the voice. She definitely heard it, but it felt distant, as if Glenda was looking in on the scene from a dream. Her ears were ringing, and her head felt buzzy. I'm just going to keep my eyes shut a while longer, thought Glenda. But as the prodding became more and more insistent, it felt stronger and stronger to Glenda. Eventually her eyes fluttered open, and she took in the scene around her. She was curled up on the concrete, a set of keys in hand, next to a car she didn't recognize. She was dressed in all black, which was strange, since all Glenda ever wore were her sweats and Casa D' Waffle uniform, which consisted of jeans and an awful, canary yellow polo shirt.
"Where am I?" Glenda asked. "What's going on? How long have I been out?" It may have taken her a minute, but Glenda soon recognized the feeling she was experiencing – she had just fainted. After unsuccessfully giving blood a handful of times before, she was well-aware of what it felt like to faint.
"Well, I don't really know," said the nun. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. A couple of the nuns and the children and I were just visiting the soup kitchen for dinner, and on our way home one of them got mugged! 'Hopped' I think is the word the children used – no, no, that's not right. 'Jumped.' Yes, that's it. One of the children got jumped."
Glenda was only barely listening to what the old woman way saying. Instead, she was trying to fit the pieces of the last few hours back together. Glenda remembered leaving for work that morning, nagging Henry to not be late for school on her way out, serving countless waffles and coffees, and then ... nothing. Glenda peered down at her outfit again. She didn't even recognize the clothes she wore. And what were those keys doing in her hand? Glenda didn't own a car ...
Suddenly, a vague memory of just an hour earlier flashed into her mind, followed by another, and another, and then everything made sense. The mysterious car, the solid black outfit, the nun. Glenda had planned everything. Well, everything except the fainting. She had borrowed her co-workers clothes and car so she could stake out the orphanage to confirm her suspicions – her suspicions about her supposed daughter. Glenda had been sitting in the car in the parking lot of Isabella's Café, waiting for the children to walk by, when Glenda opened her car door to get some fresh air – it was only March, but already the high was in the 70s. Just as she opened the door, the kids began to walk by, and that's when Glenda saw her. No doubt about it, this orphan was her daughter. And the next thing Glenda knew, she had fainted.
Glenda repeated her question to the nun. "How long have I been out?"
"Honey, that's what I just said. I don't know. One of the kids has been mugged, and I'm trying to figure out by whom. One second the man was here, taking wacks at one of the kids, and the next he was running into the parking lot of Isabella's. I'm too old to run after him, so I'm trying to scope out the scene to see if he left any tracks, but all I've seemed to find is you," she said, with a frown on her face.
"So," began Glenda, "where are the children now? Are they alright?" Glenda feared that if she saw her daughter again, she would pass out again. The nun chuckled. "Oh, they're fine. Just walked back to the orphanage a minute ago. The mugger was only able to snag Joseph's Hershey bar before the other children ran him off."
"Well, I'm sorry I can't be of more help," Glenda said. "But if you ever need any help at the orphanage, give me a shout."
"Sweetie, we could always use some help," said the nun. "Let me take your number, and I'll give you a call." Glenda slowly stood up, careful not to make herself dizzy again, and unlocked the car. She fumbled to find paper and a pen, but when she did, she quickly jotted down her number, but hesitated to give the paper to the nun. This gesture would mean meeting her daughter, and Glenda couldn't decide whether she was ready for that or not. She finally extended the paper to the old woman, smiled, and turned to enter the car – Glenda had too many manners to offer her help then take it away. Well, thought Glenda, ready or not.
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