Daniel sat at the farthest end of the bench from Stinky. A discarded newspaper helped him pass the time: a kidnapped baby in Cleveland was returned to its parents; India and Pakistan had backed down from nuclear annihilation; and Mafia capo Dominic Tagliatore was out on a million dollars’ bail pending his trial for racketeering. He should get out of town while he has the chance, Daniel thought. The boy pondered his own options. South America was as good a place as any. He could learn Spanish. He could still go to art school. Life wasn’t over. Not for him, anyway.
Clyde’s dead body flashed in front of Daniel’s eyes. The boy grappled with his new role as a murderer. Through reasonable justification of his actions-turning the events over and over again in his mind-he concocted a list, which included a column of positive ramifications regarding what he had done. Fact: His mother and little sister were better off without Clyde. Fact: With Clyde gone, Daniel would live to see his fourteenth birthday. Fact: The state of Maryland was short one worthless bum on its welfare rolls. Fact: Jessica Conklin wouldn’t have to spread her legs for loser Clyde anymore. Fact… the list lost credibility after its first two particulars. Those reasons would have to carry Daniel’s burden against his cumbersome list of sins.
“Running away?” said a voice beside Daniel.
Stinky’s breath traveled like a cloud of sewer gases-everything about this man was rancid. This guy would sell him out for a sandwich and a bath if he got the chance.
“Visiting my aunt,” Daniel replied.
“I had an aunt once,” the man said.
Daniel pretended to read the newspaper.
“I ran away once, too,” Stinky continued. “I was a little older than you, though… seventeen. Went to California. Life was good. I partied and screwed to my heart’s content. You going to California, kid? ’Course, it isn’t like the way it was when I was there. Flowers, free love, and few Republicans.”
“Wasn’t Reagan a Republican?”
He looked at Daniel with a spark of admiration. “You’re pretty smart for a punk-ass kid. What the hell you running away for? Stick around here and finish school, you might get into Johns Hopkins or something.”
Do they have an annex in Costa Rica? Daniel wondered.
A police officer approached their bench, his twenty-year love affair with the doughnut evident as it hung over his belt.
“Hey kid, you traveling alone?” he asked.
Daniel’s heart dropped to his stomach and lodged in his throat at the same time.
“Kid’s with me,” Stinky said.
“Yeah, right,” the cop said. “You running away, kid?” the cop asked Daniel.
“I said he’s with me,” the homeless man repeated.
“This true?” the cop asked Daniel.
“Yeah,” Daniel said. Stinky was going to want something for this. Fair enough.
The cop did not look convinced.
“Officer,” the homeless man said, “this is my sister’s kid. I… I fell off the wagon. I’m not the best example of a righteous citizen. He came down here to get me.”
“Where are you headed?” the cop asked.
“Washington,” Daniel cut in. He regretted giving that much away, but he had the ticket as proof and he couldn’t afford to get arrested.
“May I see your tickets?” the cop ordered.
Daniel waved his pass and tried to think of an explanation for Stinky. To his surprise, the homeless man pulled out his own Greyhound bus ticket. The cop scrutinized the tickets before handing both back to Daniel.
“You better hold on to these, kid,” he said. “Your uncle’s liable to cash them in for a pint.”
Stinky laughed.
“Okay,” Daniel said, confused. He looked at Stinky’s ticket: Washington, D.C., at 10:20 P.M.
As soon as the cop left, he handed the man back his ticket. “Thanks.”
“No problem. You look like a kid who could use some time to sort things out.”
“Is it that obvious?”
The man shifted his weight on the bench and sat upright.
“Cop thought so,” he said. “Look, it’s none of my business why you’re taking off. I had my reasons when I was younger and you have yours. But the world’s a fucked-up place, kid. Sometimes traveling with a friend makes it a little better. I’m heading south. You’re welcome to come with me for as long as you want. There’s a hot meal, a shower, and a bed in North Carolina if you want it.”
“What’s in North Carolina?” Daniel asked.
“My sister’s place. Except, I kind of ran out of money and have to thumb it from Washington. Every little bit helps, right? Maybe we’ll get lucky and pick up a ride.”
Not with your stench, Daniel thought. The guy was smart. Daniel had enough money to buy food along the trip, and friends don’t let friends go hungry. Stinky had earned his meal ticket. If not for him, Daniel would be on his way to a police station now.
“Okay,” Daniel said. “For now.”
The man put his hand out to the boy. “What’s your name, kid?”
Daniel hesitated, wondering if the stench would rub off on him. Ignoring the hand would be an unceremonious way to begin a new partnership. He shook Stinky’s hand, which was cold and clammy. “It’s Daniel.”
“Daniel. Dan. Dan the Man. Good to meet you, Dan.” Stinky shook Daniel’s hand heartily. “I’ve got a good feeling, Dan. Yessireebob, a good feeling. Helping you out will be like a karmic repair patch to my troubled and not so noble life. Just want to say thank you. You’re helping me put my life back in order.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Daniel said, feeling like he’d missed something esoteric. “Uh, what should I call you, Mister…?”
“Dretch. But my friends call me Colby. Yessiree, Dan the Man, everything from this day forward is going to be just fine.”
EPILOGUE
The hum of the bus on the road had a soothing effect on Daniel. Or perhaps it was just the act of being in motion-moving away from the place that had caused him so much grief in his life.
The effects of the episode at the station had worn off. The speed with which it overcame him was troubling. The last thing he needed was health problems. There was more to it than just anxiety, though. Those images were as real as memories-as though recalling an experience. Daniel had a good recollection of his past until he was about three. He didn’t remember any of that stuff during the incident. What was happening to him? He rested his head against the window using his rolled-up sweater for a pillow.
His new friend Colby slept in the seat next to him. There was something crafty about him-the way he talked-as though he knew more about the situation than he was letting on. At the same time, there was something comforting about having him on the aisle, like a sentinel positioned between Daniel and the world.
The man’s smell was not as bad as when they had met; though reactions from the passengers passing Colby on their way to the toilet in back suggested Daniel had only acclimated to the stench. That was fine by him. Lots of fine-smelling people had let Daniel down in his thirteen years. One trustworthy companion, if that’s what the man turned out to be, was worth a rank whiff.
The stars were bright against an inky sky over the Parkway between Baltimore and Washington. Mankind used to look into the heavens for portents of the future, but the light, traveling incredible distances, was actually a cosmic fossil of a billion years past. Whatever civilization circled a star by the time its light touched our eyes was probably long dead. Still, Daniel concluded, a talent for divination would have been useful-his future looked like a blank page, and he had no pen.
Everything that lived came from the spark of a great fire ignited long ago, a big bang. The universe existed in a cycle of expansion and contraction, recycling itself from its own dead matter over an incalculable number of years. One day, the sun would go nova, destroying the solar system, and the spent matter would collect into clouds that would at some point form a new star. If this was the way of the universe-a destructive end in order to begin anew-then why not the same for Daniel? Why couldn’t he rise from the ashes of his own past?