The boy brought the big, scratchy blanket up to his chin. He pressed his back and butt against the back of the large swivel office chair. His bare feet barely reached the front of the seat, and definitely didn't dangle much below the seat. He was naked beneath the blanket, and he still couldn't recall what had happened to his clothes.
For that matter, he couldn't remember much of anything, including his own name. A man and woman had found him at a park after he hit his head against a metal lamp post.
Despite his feeble and unheeded protests, they handed him off to a team of cops that showed up at the park soon after the man had phoned them to report a confused, lost, little boy.
That's how he came to be seated in a huge chair, the heavy blanket pulled around him as he waited. He looked on the wall across from the desk and saw a poster that fascinated him. The posted depicted a little man in bright green pants and shirt with a dark green overcoat. He wore black leather elf boots with big gold buckles and a bright gold belt buckle. In a profusion of shamrocks, a banner above the little man's image proclaimed "Happy St. Patty's Day!"
He couldn't take his eyes off the poster and was still staring at it when the door opened and a big cop stepped into the office. The boy remembered him as Officer Ortiz.
Ortiz looked big and imposing in his tight-fitting uniform. His shiny badge reminded the boy of the poster's little man's belt buckle.
Ortiz reached a can of soda to the boy. "I thought you might be thirsty."
The boy took the can with a shy smile. He popped the tab and sipped some of the sugary drink.
Ortiz drew up a spare chair and settled his big frame into it.
"How are you feeling?"
The boy considered. "It's cold."
That struck Ortiz as amusing, and he chuckled. "Yeah, I have some guys pulling together some clothes for you. We didn't seem to have any uniforms to fit a little boy."
The boy rebelled inwardly. An automatic refrain sprang into his thoughts. However, the boy chose not to utter aloud the words, "I'm not a little boy!"
Because, clearly, he was a little boy. It didn't feel right, but even as he shifted beneath the blanket, he couldn't deny it.
"Who's your mom and dad?"
"I dunno," the boy said and kicked his legs beneath the blanket.
"Do you have any family?"
The boy gave a little shrug beneath the fabric of the heavy blanket. "I don't think so."
"Well, you're a riddle, aren't you?" Ortiz said.
The boy nodded solemnly.
Ortiz then asked him about...