The burglar stole a suitcase with valuable papers and some silver and jewelry in it.
But the guy they were hunting for—I read the paragraph over and feel green. That's me.
I get up and look in the mirror.
In other circumstances I'd like being taken for sixteen instead of fourteen, which I am.
I smooth my hair and squint at the back of it.
The ducktail is fine.
Slowly I peel off my black sweater, which I wear practically all the time, and stuff it in my bottom drawer, under my bathing suit.
But if I want to walk around the street without worrying about every cop, I'll have to do more than that.
I put on a shirt and necktie and suit jacket and stick a cap on my head.
I head uptown on the subway.