Free Tom Finder by Martine Leavitt

pile of cigarettes, thought maybe he should take up smoking, and then decided his parents were probably health-conscious and wouldn’t approve.
    â€œI came to tell you. She likes you. I bet you could get her away from him.”
    Tom shrugged. “Hey, it’s her life. I don’t even know her.”
    She didn’t seem to hear him. “He’s not a real boyfriend. He’s a player, a seller. Used to hang out sometimes with my old boyfriend.”
    Tom sat up straight. “Well, why does she—?”
    â€œShe doesn’t know. The guy comes along—Cupid, you’d think the name would tell her something. He buys her some clothes, takes her out to a real restaurant for dinner, tells her she’s gorgeous, special. She thinks he loves her, thinks he’s gonna take care of her, buy her a duplex and a dog. She wants a fence with sweet peas growing on it. He says: Sure, baby, sure, me too.” Janice folded her arms over her chest. “Same old, same old.”
    â€œDidn’t you tell her?”
    â€œI did. She says I’ve gone zoid. She doesn’t believe me. But you watch. In a couple of months he’s gonna say: Baby, money is so bad right now and can you just do this one favor for me and then we’ll be fine and we’ll make our dreams come true and we’ll go to TO and have a good time. Just a couple of weeks. If you really love me, you will.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œ ’Cause that’s the way it went for me. I got out of the life when my daughter was born.” She was quiet a moment. She was looking into his eyes, even though he wasn’t looking back. “You’re not one of us,” she said soberly.
    He looked away.
    â€œPam says yes you are, but I say no, you are not one of us, not yet.” She laughed and hit his arm. “But that’s a good thing, right? Listen, are you really a Finder, Tom? Because if you are, could you look for my daughter? She looks like me, only cute.”
    â€œYou really have a daughter?” Tom asked. “How old are you anyway?” Her spooky eyes stopped looking into the backs of his eyes and started looking into the backs of her own eyes.
    Her voice seemed to come from her stomach. “I was the baby mom. My social worker took her away from me. You want what’s best for her, don’t you, she said. She said my baby’s father was fishy. Fishy. So I said, well, we’ll go away to the sea.” Janice laughed too loudly. “I wanted to keep her, but they told me I shouldn’t, if I loved her I wouldn’t . . .” She rocked herself.
    â€œCome on,” Tom said. “I’ll take you back to the shelter.”
    She got to her feet and walked beside him. She started hitting her left elbow with her right hand. She kept looking around, searching, as if she might see her daughter right there in the station.
    â€œI told them I’d be good, I’d prove it to them, and then I’d come back for her. Now I’m being good. I just have to get a job or something. In the meantime, I look for her all the time, at all the babies I see, but none of them have fins.” She laughed again. “Let’s go to the park and look.”
    â€œJanice, come on. I’m taking you back to the shelter.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause.”
    â€œWhy do people always say because?”
    â€œBecause.”
    She laughed and followed him. “My social worker said no guy who loves you would turn you out.” She was quiet for a minute.
    â€œIt’s good you got away from him,” Tom said.
    They walked a long time in silence. Once she said, “Anyway, just thought I’d tell you about Pam. Maybe you could talk to her.” It was getting dark out. She sighed. “I’ll tell you a secret, Tom. I saw my man once. In the river. I was standing on the bridge. He was underneath the water, staring up at me, asking me to jump to