Page 5 of A Week Away

“He might not be. That’s just what I was told.”

The trouble was, if I was using his identity, living as him, then whatwashe doing? Who was he pretending to be? The most likely answer was no one.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast. Eastern time.”

That had to be fifteen, sixteen hours. A long time for a growing boy. “Come on,” I told him and then led him across the park to the Park Pantry. When we got inside the restaurant, we were led to a teal-colored booth on the Broadway side. The waitress, whose sister worked the breakfast shift, put menus in front of us.

Cass didn’t pick his menu up. He just sat there looking out the window. I scanned my menu, but I knew what I wanted: a chicken Caesar. I probably should have eaten more at the party. There was, after all, a ton of food sitting on my dining room table. But I was here and not there so I might as well eat.

“You really think he’s dead?”

“I do.”

“Shit.”

CHAPTERTWO

September 13, 1996

Later that night

Cindy’s sister came over to take our order. I couldn’t remember her name because I mostly came to the diner for their excellent breakfast. She was shorter and wider than her sister but just as nice. I ordered my salad and an iced tea, then she turned to Cass.

He shook his head. “I don’t want anything.”

“He’ll have a bacon burger, curly fries with ranch dressing, and a Coke.”

“You got it,” Cindy’s sister said and then walked away.

“I told you I don’t want anything.”

“You don’t have to eat it. I won’t make you pay for it.” That made me wonder, “How’d you get here?”

“You brought me.”

“No. How’d you get from Detroit to Long Beach?”

“Airplane.”

Since I doubted he’d been keeping an eye out for cheap flights, I suspected that had been spontaneous and had cost a bundle.

“How’d you pay for it?”

“Credit card.”

“You steal your mother’s card?”

He was saved by Cindy’s sister delivering our drinks. She said, “I forgot to ask. How did you want that burger?”

“Medium rare.”

“Well,” Cass corrected me.

When she left, I waited for Cass to answer my question. He didn’t. “Does your mother know where you are?”

“She’s in Sault Sainte Marie.”