Pamela looked up from her clipboard.
She saw him.
Her face went white.
I stood up in the bleachers. I didn’t know what was going to happen.
Zoe grabbed my hand.
Henry looked at Pamela for a long time.
She looked at him.
Neither of them said anything.
Then Pamela looked down at her clipboard.
“Name?” she said. Quietly.
Henry didn’t answer right away.
He looked down at his shirt.
At his bib. At the name printed above the number.
He looked back up at her.
“My name is Henry,” he said. “It’s on my shirt.”
Pamela’s face crumpled.
She wrote it down. Her hand was shaking.
Henry.
She looked up at him.
“Henry,” she said. Very quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Henry looked at her.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t say it’s okay.
He just nodded.
“Thank you for saying my name,” he said.
