“You’ll only get me into even more trouble.” He gave her a pleading look. “It’s best if I solve this on my own. I mean it.”

She hesitated, then reached out and placed her hand on the side of his face. “I love you so much, Ralf. I don’t know what I would—”

“I love you too, Mom,” he said softly. “You should go; you’re already late. It’ll be OK.”

She stepped out of the car reluctantly. Shut the door and walked toward the mall. At the entrance, she looked back over her shoulder. He smiled at her, gave her a thumbs-up. Then she went inside.

Ralf made no attempt to drive off. He remained sitting behind the wheel, glumly watching the shoppers go by. Bikes and scooters trundled past. There was a group of boys sitting by the fast-food stand. He knew some of them from back when he used to spend all day hanging out here, back when he had no idea what else to do with his life. It turned out he hadn’t made much progress since then.

Maybe it’d be better to go away for a while, take Naomi with him. Some of his father’s relatives owned a mobile home near Barcelona that was unused in winter. It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it was big enough to live in. Ralf could wait tables, or work as a tour guide for Dutch travelers. He permitted himself to daydream about it for a few moments. Then he took the key out of the ignition, grabbed his backpack from the trunk, and walked out of the parking lot.

A little down the road, he caught a bus to the other end of town. He knew the address by heart. There was nobody home, but with a bit of luck, there would be a red Vespa ripe for the taking.

On Sunday, he would go and talk to Mikey.

He could only hope that he would be happy with a down payment.

10

10

Thom and his friends had emptied the garage and mopped the floor. In the spot formerly occupied by Werner’s riding lawn mower, there was now a row of bar tables. Two more folding tables stood against the wall, covered with glasses borrowed from the storeroom of the Horn of Plenty, as well as bags of potato chips and M&Ms. The boys were gathered around a laptop. Hip-hop and rap played from the speakers, along with the occasional dance track.

Helen was attaching a string of lights to the ceiling. Arianne held the stepladder still and passed the fasteners up to her. “My kids never got any big presents like this.”

“We don’t make a habit of it either,” said Helen. “We’re paying for the motorbike license, but Thom will have to put his own money toward the scooter, just like his big sister did.”

“I imagine you could get something good for seven hundred euros.”