A wizard is one who practices magic but can also be a person who is clever at a task or test, which is a series of questions, a trial, affliction, crucible, ordeal, tribulation, visitation.
We sit on soft chairs in Miss Jean Bauer's office. She has flowers and a computer. Out the window I can see more tall buildings of the city. She scoots closer and touches my arm with her hand.
"Now Caroline," she says, "how was your breakfast?"
"I liked the orange juice," I say.
"Good. Now is it all right if I ask you a few questions?"
"Yes," I say. "That's what you said we were going to do."
"Your name is Caroline and you are a thirteen-year-old girl who has been living with your father. Correct?"
"Where is Father?" I say.
"He's close," she says. "He's fine. He's doing fine. He misses you, too."
"Can I see him?" I say. "Of course that's my name."
"We just want to make certain we have everything right," she says, "so we can start."
"If I scream," I say, "would he hear me?"
"Please don't scream."
"I wouldn't scream," I say. "There's never any good reason to raise one's voice."
"Really?" she says. "Why do you think that?"
"When will I see my Father?" I say.
"Your physical and mental examinations have been very good," she says. "Excellent, in fact. Would you say you've had a happy and normal childhood?"
"Am I going to stay here forever?" I say.
"No," she says. "Don't worry. I've told you that before. Let's try it this way: I'll say what your father told me and you can tell me if it's not right, okay? He says that you lived in Forest Park for four years because it was safer and better for you than being on the streets and he didn't have the money to rent an apartment or a house. He says you've never met your mother, that she passed away?"
"We have a house," I say. "My father is paid every month. She had the same name as me."
"Caroline."
"Yes."
"But you haven't gone to school," she says.
"My father teaches me at our house," I say. "You said I passed your test, so we should be able to go back home."
"Yes," she says, "you're ahead of where you need to be, but you must understand that you can't live there. And school is about social skills, too, not only intellectual ones."
"I am happy," I say. "I was happy. Where are the dogs?"
"Who?" she says.
"The dogs who found us. Are they here?"
"In this building?" she says. "No. They are search and rescue dogs."
"Are they the ones who watch the criminals?" I say.
"They live in kennels," she says, "at the police station."
"We didn't need to be rescued," I say.
I like Miss Jean Bauer and I like the gray streak in her hair but I don't say this. I can tell she likes me even if she doesn't understand me.
"Is that picture your husband?" I say.
"My boyfriend," she says.
"He's handsome."
"Yes, he is," she says.
"Do you have a daughter?" I say.
"No, I don't."
"Do you have a father that you can see and hear and talk to?" I say.
She touches my hand again and says, "It's amazing to me, Caroline, the life you've had so far. Not many people can tell a story like that and now there's so many new opportunities for you. Still," she says, "I wish I could have just followed you around for a day, just to see how you did it all."
"You wouldn't have been able to follow me," I say. "I'd lose you in five minutes. Even with dogs it might not matter."
"Did you grow all the food you ate?" she said. "Your father says you're vegetarians."
"No," I say. "Yes we are vegetarians but we went to Safeway, too. Everyone goes to a store, or eats things they find in the city that other people leave behind."
"Did you take things from other people?"
"Never," I say. "If someone in the forest park drops something, the rule is to wait and count to thirty. Then you can pick it up. Hide. Count again to fifty, to see if anyone comes back. If they do, try to put it in their path a little further along, so they can find it and so you won't be stealing from them."
"So you went to Safeway every two weeks?" she says.
"Everyone has to buy something sometime," I say. "Only maybe Nameless only eats what grows in the forest park."
"Who's that?" she says. "A friend of yours?"
"Not exactly," I say. "It doesn't matter. Is Father somewhere taking tests like this?"