I wiped, but I knew that spot wasn’t going to disappear. It was part of my map. Maisy always called it that. What an idiotic idea. It wasn’t a map. I wasn’t going anywhere. My blotches were probably the reason no one wanted to be around me. Gloria acted as though it was my fault, but Telly took me to the doctor, and he said it was just a condition. Nothing to do with me. But then Telly left. Gloria kicked me out. And now Carl just walked away. Like I was worth nothing. Zero. Zilch.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” Marion was staring over my shoulder.

From somewhere behind me I heard a gruff cough, then a shy “Urh.”

A wave of happiness flooded me.

When I turned, Carl was right there. Wide smile. All the shiny streaks of smoke were gone from his face, and the bottom of his beard was trimmed. His fuzzy hair was damp and patted to the side. I could smell soap. Even the buttons on his coat were fixed.

He was still mumbling to himself, but cleaned up, Carl almost looked like a regular man. He could definitely be some boy’s uncle. Even some boy’s father.

“You acquired your nutrition?” he asked as he put money on the counter.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Good, good.” He ruffled my hair. “That’s my boy.”

We went outside. Carl signaled a truck driver headed in the opposite direction. We climbed up into the cab. No weird photos this time. The man told a joke about spilled cutlery and a fork in the road. It wasn’t very funny, but I laughed out loud.

“That’s my boy.”

“That’s my boy.”

“That’s my boy.”

ROWAN

When we got back to the camp Girl rushed toward us, yanking on her rope. She sprang up, pawed the air like a pony. I untied her and threw her mangy squirrel in the air. She brought it back to me again and again.

“See, Stan? She trusts Magic Boy,” Carl said. “She doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Except you,” I said.

“Urh,” he said, and he grinned, rubbed his nose.

The dampness underneath the bridge lifted, and the day was warm and breezy. I could hear bees buzzing and birds chirping. I sat by the creek. Thin green reeds grew up through the water. Mosquitoes hovered among them, and when tiny fish darted up to snap, bubbles remained on the surface. I watched a handful of tadpoles skitter this way and that. Darrell came to mind, and I wondered if he was finished tinkering with his motorcycle. Maybe he’d take me for a ride. Telly used to forbid it, said anything with a motor and two wheels was a deathtrap, but he wasn’t around to stop me. Then I remembered my decision. I was gone from Pinchkiss Circle. And I was never going back.