The Extra Plate on the Table

Every evening, Mateo sets the table for dinner. It is his job. He puts out four plates, four forks, and four glasses. There are four people in his family. That is easy math.

But on Monday, he finds a fifth plate. It sits at the end. It is blue, with a white fork next to it. Mateo did not put it there. He looks at it for a long time. "Quinn," he says to his sister. "Did you set a plate?"

"No," says Quinn. She sits on the couch with a book.

"That is your job."

"Then who did it?" She shrugs and does not look up from her book. So Mateo takes the plate back to the kitchen. He puts it in the cupboard and closes the door. He feels a little odd about it.

On Tuesday, the same thing happens. Four plates are on the table. A fifth sits at the end. It is blue again. The fork is on the left side. Mateo stares at it. This time, he decides to be a detective.

He asks his mother. She cooks rice and hardly listens. "A plate?" she says.

"Maybe you made a mistake." He asks his father, who works late and eats later. His father laughs.

"I never set the table, Mateo. You know that."

He asks his grandfather, who lives in the next room. His grandfather only says, "A plate is a plate."

Mateo does not give up. On Wednesday, he sets the table at four o'clock. Then he sits on the stairs and watches it. He holds a notebook and a pencil. In the notebook, he writes: 4:00. Table ready. 4 plates.

Nothing happens for an hour. At five o'clock, his mother walks through the kitchen. She does not go near the table. At five-thirty, Quinn passes with a glass of water. Mateo writes it down. At six, he is hungry and bored.

At ten past six, he goes to wash his hands. He comes back. There are five plates now. "What?" he says. The blue plate sits at the end of the table. The white fork shines in the lamp light. Mateo spins around. The kitchen is empty. The hall is empty. Only the clock ticks on the wall.

He looks at his notebook. He writes: 6:10. Fifth plate. Nobody here. Mateo is very serious now. He asks himself some questions. Who has a reason to add a plate? Who knows where the blue plates are? Who can move without noise?

He thinks about the family. His mother is busy. His sister reads. His grandfather moves slowly. His father is still at work. And then Mateo stops. His father is at work. His father always eats late.

He opens the oven. Inside, there is a pot with a lid. It is warm. A paper sits on the pot. It has words in his mother's writing. For Dad. Warm.

Mateo takes out the pot. He holds it for a moment. Then he looks at the blue plate. It is for his father. He is tired and hungry after work. He hears the front door. His father comes in with his bag. He looks tired. He sees the table, and he sees the blue plate.

"Hello," says his father.

"Why is the table still ready?"

"I want to know who sets this plate," says Mateo. His father looks at the plate. Then he looks at the notebook. A small smile comes to his face.

"Your mother does it," he says.

"Every night. She sets my place. Then I know someone waits for me."

"But why does she hide it?" asks Mateo.

"She does not hide it," says his father.

"You took it away on Monday." Mateo's face goes red. He closes the notebook.

"I am a bad detective," he says.

"No," says his father.

"You are a good son. Will you sit by me tonight?"

Mateo smiles. He moves his plate beside the blue one.