Anybodys wasn't afraid as she and Anita walked through the PR quarter of the tenements. A few hours earlier, when she had ran like a she-devil through the area lookin' for Tony, she ain't been scared then. Well, only a little. But her main feeling had been desperation. She had heard Chino and the other Shark guys talking, and felt sick. Her first and last instinct was to keep Tony safe. But, she had failed, and now she felt nothing. Except a little relief. The streets were empty; even the shadows she did double-takes on contained nobody.

"Where is everyone?" she asked her. "Where'd they go after the playground. I didn't stay-" she explained.

"Who could blame you? Neither did I." Anybodys looked at Anita incredulously.

"You were there?! I never saw ya."

"You weren't meant to. I didn't want to be seen.." her words died away, and she pulled her shawl tighter around her. Anybodys shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"Lissen. Anita, I'm sorry 'bout in the drugstore…" she kept her eyes on the ground. There was a pause.

"Accepted. I am sorry about Riff." She touched a gold locket hanging around her neck. "We both are." She opened it gently and showed Anybodys a picture of Bernardo displayed there lovingly. Anybodys reached out to the minature and traced its outline with a grimy finger.

"You're lucky," she said quietly. "You have something to remember the man you loved with." Anita took Anybodys fiercely by the shoulders.

"I don't need any trinket to remember my love by! And neither do you. You've got your heart and your head, and that's all you need. Look!" She unfastened the locket and threw it savagely down the drain. Anybodys gasped. Anita stared after it for a moment, then hugged Anybodys again.

"You see? Now we're even. All I have, querida, is memories now. And you are the same."

"I can't go on…" Anybodys murmured weakly. Anita touched her face gently.

"Yes you can. Women can always go on. They always do." Anybodys shrugged.

"I ain't no woman. Lookit me. I'm Anybodys."

Anita looked at the petite, bruised figure with something akin to pity. Her clothes were baggy, yet skimpy, designed to conceal the body she obviously loathed. Her hair was cut into an uneven shingle, her fringe long and straggly. Half a pigtail hang erratically down one side of her head. A band dangling loosely in another lock of red, straight, tangled hair implied the pigtail may once have had a twin. She looked like a grubby, neglected child, wholly infantile, yet somehow pubsecent. Her eyes told another story. What has happened to you? Anita thought. She was clearly fearless when it came to defending others, but when she feared violence, shied away. Or worse, just waited to be hit. All the fight seemed to have left her. But she would regain it again, Anita decided. She pointed out an apartment several floors up in a nearby building.

"There. That's your home now, Lulamae."

"Don't call me that."

"It is your name."

"Uh-uh. That's the name of a little girl who lived a long time ago."

Anita smiled. The sensation was unfamiliar. "Very well. I have many names. What is your second name?"

"Don't have one."

"You do, but you are not ready to tell me, I see. Very well. I am Anita Josefina Teresita Beatrice del Carmen.."

"Stop!" Anybodys cried. "Carmen."

"And?" Anita asked, raising one eyebrow.

"My full name is now Carmen Kate." Anybodys said firmly. Anita laughed into the empty air.

"Not Carmen-yet. Kate." She smiled again, and opened the front door of the building. "Welcome home, Kate."