He gave a distrait wave. “I know, I know. Every last cent you’ll be getting. You got my word. You haven’t seen the last of me.”

The door slammed shut after Henry. Ignition turned, engine growled, gas gauge needle swung up, then floated down slightly to show a full tank. He’d prepared. They were ready. The dashboard vents were gusting cool air and because it was warming by the second, the breeze felt like a living breath, a sustained whisper rinsing him in an unexpected satisfaction, like affirmation from a total stranger.

Henry stepped onto the clutch and cranked the gear stick into first. He turned to Junior, still straddling the console. Told him to sit normal. Forward, and buckle up now, please.

“Wait, Pa. I want to see this. Remember it.”

Fair enough.

Henry eased onto the gas pedal, and now they were really leaving. This was really motion. Ending that and starting this. The open, snow-sheeted plains were spliced by the wire of a county road, darting straight and shrinking, chasing after the flush of lavender steeping deeper and darker as it melted behind the western horizon. Out here, there was and always had been plenty enough space between them and that point where the road vanished up ahead. Plenty enough space to chisel out a nook for the two of them to keep fed and warm. They wouldn’t bother anyone. They didn’t need much. Plenty enough to go around.

Under the headlight beams, wisps of snowdrifts shimmied and swirled over the pavement like paints that wouldn’t mix. Junior didn’t see the dance. He’d stayed put, right there, chest pressed against the seat and looking back. Henry let the boy be. Might actually be a decent idea for one of them to keep track of where they’d come from. What they’d done and who they’d been. They were a good team. The intrepid duo that hadn’t been then, but could be now. When his fingers wrapped around his son’s ankle, the contact was like closing a circuit—an electric sense of completion charged through him, through them. A jolt. A joint shudder. Whether triggered by dread or anticipation of the sprawling freedom that was now closing in on them, it didn’t really matter. Didn’t need a name. Fear or joy, doubt or opportunity, either way it had sparked the same current. Then again, all that had mattered, did matter, and could ever matter was right here. Within arm’s reach and his to hold tight and keep safe, from here on out, forever and then some.