Nick grimaced. “Not . . . exactly,” he said. “He just didn’t get around to canceling the programming. He sort of doesn’t know I took it out today. He went to Boston last night, had to fly to Chicago on business.”

“What about your mom?” Archie asked.

“She kinda slept in,” Nick said.

Archie figured, by the end of the day, Nick’s mom would kill him, or maybe she’d wait until his dad was back from Chicago and let him kill him, but either way, it really wasn’t Archie’s problem. He was an innocent bystander, or innocent passenger. Something like that. The truth was, Archie didn’t care as much about following the rules as much as he once did. In simple terms, he didn’t give a fuck.

“My sister’s all, hey, I need my driver’s license,” Archie said as Pamela glided down the Garrett street. “But, like, who needs one of those with cars like these?”

“Yeah,” said Rory. “Although this would probably get boring after a while because there’s nothing to do. So, Nick, can you make the car do anything interesting? Like, can you make it do donuts?”

Nick, still hanging over the back of the front seat, shook his head sadly. “I tried. I say, Pamela, let’s do some fishtails and she goes, no. I say, hey, Pamela, let’s do a bunch of donuts, she says no. I say, Pamela, let’s see what you can do. Can you hit a hundred? And Pamela says no.”

“I guess no means no with Pamela,” Rory lamented.

Nick nodded.

“So where’s the fun, then?” Archie asked.

“Seriously?” Nick said. “We’re out. In a car. On our own. If this were a real car, we wouldn’t be allowed to drive it for another four years. But with Pamela, we just tell her where we want to go and she’ll take us there.”

A slow grin spread across Archie’s face. “Will Pamela respond to anything I ask her?”

Nick shook his head. “No, just me. But if you’ve got something good, whisper it to me.”

Archie leaned forward, cupped his hand around Nick’s ear. Nick grinned. “Oh, I like that.” He cleared his throat. “Pamela,” he said crisply.

“Yes,” said Pamela in a voice that sounded exactly the same as Gracie’s.

“Please take us to Uranus.”

“Could you please repeat your destination?”

“Uranus. Let me say it more slowly for you. Your . . . anus.”

In the back seat, Archie and Rory were working so hard to stifle their laughter that they appeared to be having seizures.

“Do you mean Uranus Drive in Louisville, Kentucky? Or do you mean Uranus Drive in Cocoa, Florida?”

“I think I’m dying,” Archie said.

“No, just Uranus,” Nick said.

Rory said, “I’ve got another one.” He leaned forward to whisper it to Nick.

“Butt, Montana?”