As Cathy scanned her backyard and counted, she thought for a moment that Ruth must have arrived. The total number matched the number of people who lived on the block. Then she spotted Molly hiding behind the Torres family.
“Molly,” Cathy said, racing over to her. “What are you doing here?”
Molly tried to play off her presence as normal, “It’s the Poplar Press Census.”
“But you don’t live here.”
“I live on the other side of the street. I practically live here,” Molly said.
“We’ve been over this. The Poplar Press is just for the 1200 block.”
“But, the 1300 block is right next door. I love the paper.”
“But it’s not for you,” Cathy said. “I even sent you the listing for the brownstone, but you didn’t move.”
“It just seems so arbitrary. I want in.”
“Start your own paper, Molly.”
“But I like yours,” Molly said. Knowing it was a losing battle, she got up to leave.
Cathy shook her head and got ready to make the official count. Just then, she heard the sound of a pig squealing. She looked around and saw Ruth leading a small pig into the yard.
Cathy walked over to her. “Hi Ruth, thanks for joining us.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought Hank,” Ruth said.
“It’s fantastic,” Cathy said. “First time we’ll count a pet pig in the census. I always thought Hank was a dog.”
“He thinks he’s a dog, too,” Ruth said. She looked around. “I don’t really know anyone.”
“Great, then you’ll stand by me as we interview everyone. Please introduce everyone to Hank. What’s he dressing up as for the masquerade?”
“The Hamburglar.”
“That’s so cute,” Cathy said. “He may need his own section in the paper.” Ruth smiled. “I think he’d like to be in the Poplar Press.”