They dressed Frankie in a fumbling panic. Thomas silently thanked nobody that he had remembered to bring his velcro shoes. They did a passable job making a discreet, nonchalant exit. Every nurse they passed smiled at the sight of Frankie slumbering in his arms. One man, a custodian, whispered, 'Long day, huh?' An attractive doctor said, 'He's a beautiful little monkey, isn't he?' She even laughed and wiped drool from Thomas's shoulder with her sleeve. 'Such a sound sleeper.'

Once again, Thomas silently thanked nobody, this time for having the foresight to bring Frankie's Jersey Devils cap. With his scalp shaved and bandaged, she would have realized something was up.

It was strange, strolling and smiling while his heart lunged in terror. His skin tingled, as though rubbed raw by the catastrophic possibilities that surrounded him. But by the time they made it to the unattended lobby, Thomas felt something akin to criminal glee.

Twenty steps, he thought, staring at the doors and the concrete darkness beyond them, and we're home free…

Fifteen steps, and we're home free…

They trotted down the stairs.

Ten steps…

They passed the metal detector, waded through the turnstile.

We made it, Frankie! This is going to work!

They pressed through the doors into the hot night, stopped dead in their tracks. All they could hear was the deep, over-the-horizon thrum of the surrounding city.

The police cruiser's lights seemed to click as they spun, but it was just a trick of the eyes.

'Sorry-sorry!' Mia cried, bounding to the curb. The officer, who was probing the Toyota's interior with a flashlight, turned in alarm.

Thomas could only hug his boy's tiny body tight. Control had evaporated. He kissed his warm neck, then sobbed once, twice, against his little shoulder. He could hear Mia's insistent voice, then suddenly he was blinking against the flashlight.

'Not cool,' he heard Mia say to the cop. 'Nawt cool.'

'Sorry,' the officer said. 'You two take care.'

Then Mia was beside him, disentangling Frankie from his arms. 'C'mon. It's okay, Tom. Ups-a-daisy…'

Somehow Thomas ended up behind the wheel, while Mia tried to secure Frankie in the back seat. Wiping his nose on his blazer sleeve, Thomas slowly accelerated down the street. He felt like an ant pulling away from a tombstone. Please…

The first police cruiser picked them up before they hit the fourth city block. The siren fairly kicked the breath out of Thomas's lungs.

'Not-good-not-good-not-good,' Mia muttered.

Thomas turned the vehicle slowly, not quite able to process what was happening.

'What are you doing?' Mia cried.

'I hit the blinker.'

'I can see that. You afraid we might lose them or something?'

Thomas sped down the side street. Then swerved to the right down a thoroughfare. Again he hit the blinker.

'Are you kidding me? You worried about a traffic ticket?'

'I can't help it!' Thomas cried. 'It's habit. Conditioning.'