“I know. It’s a tragedy. But anyway, I guess there was this car full of people driving around that Halloween night and there was an attempted carjacking. Some guy with a gun came up to the window and tried to force everyone out of the car. So Heath Hall, well, the person dressed up as him, was driving in a car behind theirs and got out and tackled the guy, disarmed him, then left before anyone knew who he was. It kind of became this legend after that. I don’t know if someone else got a different mask and started passing it around or if the original guy thought he would give other people a chance to face a fear while wearing the mask or maybe that whole story was just made up by the person who thought of the idea, but whatever the case, that’s the history.”

“How come I’ve never heard that story?”

“Because it happened in a completely different city over five years ago. Heath Hall has traveled from there to here.”

“How do you know all that, then?”

“The story gets passed on to the keeper of the mask. I guess it’s supposed to make us want to be noble or keep the secret or I’m not really sure, but it works.”

“I can see that. It’s a pretty cool story. And I can see how the wearers of the mask would want to keep the secret too. There’s this kind of reverence that comes after having to use it. A respect. Like a secret society.”

“Some people talk. You were asking around; you probably know that.”

I was about to tell him that nobody had told us anything but then remembered he was right: people had named names. But because there had been so many different names named, we hadn’t thought any of them were right. Now I realized they all had been right. There were many different Heath Halls.

I pulled into the parking lot.

Jackson gazed out the window, then turned to me, disappointed. “Are we at school?”

“Sort of. Well, obviously we’re at school, but not because I’ve ever had a deep desire to come to school when I’ve been car-less, but because this is where my second home lives.” I drove through the lot and parked close to the walk that led to the pool.

“Oh. Of course.”

I unbuckled my seat belt.

“Are we getting out? It looks locked,” he asked.

“I have a key.”

He joined me outside and we headed toward the gate. “How do you have a key?”

“I swim a lot. I needed one.”

“Did you steal a key, Moore?”

I handed him my Slurpee so I could unlock the gate. “Stealing is such a strong word.”

He took a sip of my drink, then stuck his tongue out. “That is sour.”

“I think you mean delicious.” I took it back.