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"Oui?" she said.

Harley looked at me to see if I knew what that meant. I shook my head.

"I'm Harley," he said. "I've come to see Fletcher Victor."

She shifted her eyes from him to me and then she turned and, leaving the door opened, walked back to what I thought was the doorway to the living room.

She mumbled something and a moment later, the man who I imagined to be Harley's real father appeared beside her. He looked like she had just woken him. His thick head of black and gray hair was as messed as it would be if someone had run his or her fingers through it for ten minutes. He wore a pair of coveralls, stained with blue, white, red and green paint as well as a very faded T-shirt beneath. He was barefoot, the toenail on his right foot's big toe bruised black.

Both Harley and I could only stare. It was natural for us to look for resemblances. Harley and he had similar noses and both had hazel eyes. I thought their mouths were different. Harley's being softer with thinner lips, but they had the same jaw and identically shaped ears. Like Harley, his father stood over six feet, but he had a stouter build and a thicker neck. His shoulders, however, were somewhat stooped.

What was most surprising of all. I guess, was how old he looked. Did time and hard living age him this quickly? Or was he much older than we imagined when he had met Harley's mother?

He scrubbed his cheeks vigorously to wash out the sleep and then smiled.

"Well now," he said. "Well, here you are. This is my boy," he told the tall, black lady.

She stared as if she were deaf. There was no reaction or interest in her face.

His father stepped forward.

"Come in, come in. Let me look you over. boy,"

He reached out, his hands jetting at Harley's shoulders, grasping them firmly and holding him for a moment while he drank him in and nodded.

"Just look at this kid. Suze. Is this a chip off the old block or what? Huh?" he said turning to her and being more demanding for a reaction.

"Oui, " she said. So that's her way of saving yes. I immediately concluded. "Bon, " she added.

"So," Harley's father continued, still holding him at the shoulders. "you made it pretty good. huh

?"

"Yes," Harley said. Then he glanced at me. "Well, maybe not so good. We had an accident just outside Centerville. Two guys in a pickup harassed us and I spilled trying to get away from them. Summer hurt her ankle," he continued, so nervous he had to keep talking, "I brought her right to the doctor here, and he treated her foot and gave her that crutch to use while we were here."

"No kidding?" He released Harley and turned to me, his hands on his hips. "What he call you-- Summer?"

"Yes sir," I said.

"Who is she?" he asked Harley.

"She's my best friend." he said quickly. "We kind of grew up together." he added.

"Oh. I see. Well, well have plenty of time to get acquainted.

Suze made one of her special dishes in anticipation of your arrival. She knew you'd be here in time." He leaned toward us. "She's got special powers," he whispered and winked. "Where's your things?"

"Oh. I left it all on the cycle," Harley said.

"Well, you go get it. Suze will show you places to sleep. You want two rooms. I imagine," he added with a tight, impish smile.

"Yes." Harley said immediately. "If that's okay."

"Sure. Right. Suze?"

"Pas de probleme," she replied.

"What?" Harley said. smiling.