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Simon wished he knew who he was. He had tried to 

remember what had happened, but couldn't. All he 

had from his past was a blue and red party hat. Now 

he lived in a water tower stealing food from people to 

keep alive. He climbed down from inside the water 

tower, and looked out over the street. What would 

life be like if I were one of those people? Speeding 

down the road, not having a water tower you could 

look out of, how awful! He thought to himself. But 

then, they had houses.

How he knows this you shall soon find out.

Inside the water tower there is a small sofa and 

a bucket full of water that Simon can drink from. 

Pipes crisscross the ceiling. Again, he wondered 

who he was. He looked at his name written in 

sharpie on his party hat. Just then, Simon heard 

a loud bell ringing. He hurried to a seat he had 

made out of spare pipes. He clenched a lever he 

had made out of not working pipes. He took a 

deep breath, and pulled the lever backward. 

Simon sped through winding pipes, water covering his 

face. Just when he thought he might drown, he popped 

out of the sink faucet. He looked around. He was in the 

kitchen of some house. He crept out of the sink before 

the person realized there was water finally coming out. 

On the table were some groceries. Great. He thought. A 

man walked forward and began washing his hands. That 

won't take long. Simon thought. He crept under the table 

and carefully took a muffin, a carrot, a hunk of cheese, 

and a watermelon slice. With years of experience, Simon 

crept to the nearest bathroom and dived in the sink 

faucet. 

When Simon got back, he gulped for a second. 

Water had gotten up his nose. He took out the 

soaked food, and put it on the sofa. He shook 

himself off, and took a long drink from his 

bucket. Then he stretched out on the couch next 

to his hat and the food and fell asleep. 

Simon woke up to the dinging of the bell. He groggily 

stuffed yesterday's muffin into his mouth and sat down 

on the seat. He pulled the lever back, and water 

rushed in his ears. 

When he popped out of a bathroom faucet. He jumped 

out of the sink. He turned right, and found the kitchen. 

No groceries on the counter. He'd have to go into the 

fridge. He heard footsteps in the bathroom. He'd have 

to be quick. He opened the fridge and it creaked. 

Simon winced. He reached in and his hand felt some 

ham. He pulled it out and turned around to leave.

"What are you doing with my ham?" A old wrinkled 

woman was glaring at him from the kitchen doorway. 

Simon gulped. He had not been planning this little 

obstacle. "Look," he stammered. "I'll give you your 

ham and be gone before you can say boy." He edged 

toward the sink. "Not so fast!" The woman hissed. 

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the 

light. Simon was clean because every week he 

washed himself with the water from the water tower. 

The old woman's eyes narrowed. Simon tried to pull 

away, but she had an iron grip on him.

Simon was sitting in the living room of the old lady's 

house. For a few minutes there was silence where 

the lady studied him. Then she noticed Simon's hat. 

Her eyes widened as she read the name on the blue 

stripe. "Alors, tu es Simon?" Simon vaguely 

recognized the language. French. Suddenly, a 

memory flashed through his mind. His mother was 

singing to him, a lullaby, in french. He even 

remembered the first line: Fais dodo mon p'tit. Go 

to sleep my little baby. Now he knew what the lady 

had said. So you're Simon? He looked up at the old 

woman. Her eyes were tearing up. "Dites bonjour à 

ta grand-mère, Simon." 

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