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Every kid smiled at her. And walked up to her, to give her five. You move your hand slow at Bluish. You don’t jerk fast, because she can’t get out of the way and you might hurt her.
    Kids gave her a low five fingers. Kids said, “You didn’t have to. That’s a lot of work. I didn’t bring anything for you.” And Bluish said, “I already did it. I don’t want anything!”
    And each kid got one. Bluish said, “Here Jody,” to Ms. Baker. A lot of kids call the teachers by their first names. In my other school where I went, we didn’t. So I call her Ms. Baker.
    Everybody held their hats. Kids didn’t want to look foolish.
    Bluish said, “Well, they’re yours. You can wear ’em when you want.”
    And kids saying Bluish’s name, “Bluish, Bluish.” Well, that’s what we call her.
At Bluish’s
    Bluish’s mom—I don’t think she likes me. But I went to her house, Bluish. Me and Tuli and Willie. Why come? Because Bluish said we could, too.
    So funny, my bratty sister. Crawled up on the bed. They had Game Boys, but Willie put her thumb in her mouth, curled up by Bluish in her bed, and went to sleep. Bluish looked at Willie like she was a doll-baby. Bluish’s little mouth gave a grin.
    I felt so good, I knew Bluish wanted us to be there. Tuli sat on a chair. Couldn’t sit still and had to touch everything in the bedroom.
    Real nice place over on West End, near 103rd Street. None of us was scared anymore. She lives in this apartment called a classic eight. Eight rooms! Big as a house! I loved it. And Lucky the dog has a little bed on the floor in Bluish’s room! Little black fur legs running, barking its little dog bark. So cute. Oh, I wish …
    We were sorting pictures of Broadway. Her mom had said it was too cold for Bluish that Wednesday when we went out for our project. Willie had said, “Shoot, we could have helped Bluish have some fun.” So I had to take all the pictures without her. My dad’s camera. Tuli showed us stuff.
    I know stuff about our ’hood, but Paula doesn’t. She’s from Brooklyn. But Tuli just sees stuff that I miss. She found this place? It was an Irish bar and a Chinese restaurant. Not too big but with maybe six booths for eating egg rolls and stuff. Cool! Called Misters Side by Side, with a green four-leaf clover and Chinese writing. How’d I miss it?
    We only looked in. Then I took its picture—the yellow door and red letter sign. Tucked in there between a butcher’s and a cleaner’s. I took them too. I never even saw it. Maybe Misters Side by Side only just got there.
    We got the film developed in a day. An evening later, Bluish called and said to bring the pictures over, she might be out the next day. So we did.
    We get there, and I spread all the pictures on top of asleep Willie. And real easy, Bluish reached one to look at.
    Paula couldn’t come. Said it would be okay, whatever we picked. But if there was one she loved, we’d have to use it. Said she loved Lightly Shoes. Barzinis. And Jays Fishes.
    Bluish—her mom. She is Rita Winburn. Bluish’s mom comes in and we stare at her and wait. Somehow we blurt our names. She has brought out little cakes and milk.
    Tuli says, “Ooooh.” Nice. We eat the cakes. I wake Willie.
    Bluish’s mom is standing at the door with her arms crossed. Bluish kind of folds the bed covers up to her chin. She eats nothing.
    Her mom has dark hair and creamy skin. She is not brown. I’ve seen Bluish’s dad. Mr. Winburn is brown. I’m sorta sweet chocolate color. Tuli is more honey color. Bluish would probably be the combined creamy and brown—her mom and dad—if she wasn’t sick. But she is this ill color not like anybody.
    She’s Bluish because I saw her and she made me think of moonlight. But she might get creamier. Get rid of the blue someday. I hope so.
    “We can hope and pray,” Tuli once said.
    Bluish’s mom is standing there. And then her mom says, “Don’t call her Blewish. That’s not nice. That is derogatory.”
    I