She got up from the desk and went to the door of the office. "Nicky! Nick! I'm an old woman, don't make me climb the stairs!"
In a few minutes Nick and Lettie and Annie and John Paul were all crowded into the office, looking around at things they had long been forbidden to see.
"I don't recall asking for anyone but Nicky," said Aunt Margaret.
"Nobody calls him Nicky," said Annie. "He hates it, he's Nick."
"He's Nicky to me," said Aunt Margaret, "and he likes it fine or I'll smack him."
"What did you need?" asked Nick.
"Your mother has a special phone number she uses to call the President," said Aunt Margaret. "Do you know if she has it written down anywhere?"
"She wouldn't tell us," said Lettie.
"I didn't imagine she would," said Aunt Margaret. "But Nicky is an observant boy, and I thought he might have noticed where she went if she was going to call the President on that line."
"He always calls her," said Lettie. "I mean Nate Ogzewalla does."
"I keep asking Nicky, and I keep hearing answers coming from you, my dear, and yet your answer is always that you don't know the answer, so would you kindly allow me to find out if Nicky does."
"I told you he doesn't answer to Nicky."
"Lettie," said Nick, "just shut up."
"Thank you, Nicholas J. Malich," said Aunt Margaret.
"His middle name doesn't start with J," said Lettie.
Aunt Margaret raised a hand in order to slap her. But to Chinma's surprise, instead of cowering Lettie laughed and dodged out of the room.
If he had ever tried that when Father or one of the mothers raised a hand to smack him, he would have been beaten hard with a stick. But Lettie clearly wasn't afraid for a moment. Had anyone ever beaten her? Certainly Chinma had never seen it since he'd been here, and yet Lettie often needed to be beaten, because she was always provoking people. Chinma didn't understand American families yet, that was clear.
"She never searched for it," said Nick. "It was just in her cellphone."
"So much for being security conscious," said Aunt Margaret. "If she ever lost her cellphone, the President's private phone number would be there for anyone to take."
"I don't think it matters," said Nick. "It's just a cellphone and if somebody else got the number, he'd throw it out and get another."
"Oh," said Aunt Margaret. "Well, that makes sense. The problem is that it doesn't get me any closer to calling the President."
"Just call the switchboard and say that you're taking care of Cecily Malich's children and you need to speak to Nate Ogzewalla," said Lettie from outside the office door.
Nick nodded. "That'll do it."
"But I don't want to talk to Mr. Ogzewalla," said Aunt Margaret. "He'll just tell me I can't talk to the President, and he'll promise to deliver my message, but then he won't do it because, as everyone knows, gatekeepers exist to keep the gate closed, not to open it."
They all stood or sat in silence, contemplating this conundrum.
"Why not just use her cellphone and find the number that the President answers?" said Lettie.
"Her cellphone? It's here?"
"Well it wouldn't do her any good in Nigeria, would it?" said Lettie.
Aunt Margaret looked at Nick in consternation.
Nick grinned. "Lettie sees everything. I never see anything."