The first chilly gust of evening wind blows behind me, parting my hair above the back of my neck, like icy fingers against my scalp.

What do you mean?

I wanted to surprise you.

His meaning does not make itself clear to me. I look at him and wait for more.

Your mother’s paying for it, he says.

The sun beats against the white walls of the motel and against the stark plaster of the stairway. In my temples a steady pulse throbs. In the middle of the parking lot the fenced pool is empty but the sound of a lawn chair leg scraping concrete comes to my ears, and I catch sight of a young couple pulling lawn chairs beside it and removing from a paper grocery bag some beers.

What do you mean? I say.

She’s here.

You mean my mom?

He nods.

This makes me very still. My muscles stiffen in my arms and in my back and the twitching returns to my hand. The boy says something that makes the girl giggle and it echoes in the parking lot, among the motel buildings which surround us.

You’ve met my mom? I say.

He fingers the shirt cloth at his chest, looking unsure.

He shakes his head.

My temples throb. My mother’s brother Betino looks white—they both have Spanish blood—but my mother appears really dark—very Filipino—even though she avoids the sun. I can’t imagine Stone meeting her and mistaking her for being white.

Why would she be here? I manage to mumble.

I called your house at the gas station and she was going to fly up, he says. I’m sorry, buddy, but you just didn’t look old enough to be out on your own like that. I got your number through your Triple A card. I hope you don’t mind. I thought you probably ran away from home.

He waits for me to say something. On the eastern rim of the valley a golden glow bathes the mountaintops, like a fragile crown floating above shadowy foothills. Beyond it a crescent moon is beginning to come out, grinning in the still blue sky.

So are you going to meet her? I say, realizing immediately how strange this question sounds but wanting him to get into his truck and leave. He looks at me strangely.

I don’t even know if she’s here yet, he says. Hey, why don’t we get inside, all right?