‘He Talked About Wanting to Be a Doctor and Ate His Chopped Cheese’

Chopped Cheese

Dear Diary:

I was on my way to a Jackson Hewitt tax office in the Bronx on a Monday night. I stopped at a Bengali place for dinner. I left with two samosas, plus dinner and lunch for the next day.

It was 9 p.m. when I got to the subway station. I looked around and noticed a boy on the platform. He was playing a video game.

I opened the container with the samosas, but before I could dip one in sauce, the boy interrupted me.

Excuse me, Miss, he said. Do you have a dollar for water? I’m thirsty.

I put my food away.

Let’s go, I said.

We went downstairs.

Are you hungry? I asked him.

Yes, he said.

We walked to a Jamaican restaurant on the corner known for its jerk chicken, bread fruit and steamed fish.

Please, Miss, the boy asked, can we go to a deli?

We found one nearby. He ordered a chopped cheese and an Arizona iced tea. I paid, and we ran back up to the station.