Chapter 11

“Did you catch your rescuer’s name?” the interviewer asked.

“Fierce,” said the woman, looking straight into the camera. “He said his name was Fierce.”

My heart suddenly galloped through a furlong. She said my name. Wait. SHE SAID MY NAME! ON TV! Yes, the caps and exclamation point were mandatory. The last time they mentioned me on TV, I was the one being rescued, ten years earlier, a seven-year-old wild child. Now the shoe was on the other foot—even though my onesie didn’t come with shoes.

When the interview was finally done, my cell phone started to ring. I picked it up in the kitchen.

“Did you see it?!” Craig shouted into the phone. “Did you?! Did you?! You were just on TV! She said your name! Your hero name! You!”

I moved the receiver a few inches away from my ear. I already had super hearing; I didn’t need the additional bellowing. “I saw,” I replied. “Neat.”

“Is that all you can say? Neat?” He was still shouting. “You’re famous!”