ALICE IS SAD that I have to leave so soon, but she appreciates me putting gas in her car and insists on driving me to the airport. Gus comes along as well, although this time I make him sit up front with his sister. On the way Alice talks about taking Gus to see a doctor, and Gus says he wants to go see the Motown Museum.

“Why you wanna go see some museum about music?” Alice says.

“Because it’s culture,” Gus says. “Somethin’ you don’t know about.”

“I know I don’t need to pay money to go look at some Motown star’s shoes in a glass case,” Alice says. “You wanna know about the Temptations or whoever, turn on a radio.”

“I wanna go see where the Temptations recorded ‘My Girl.’ The Supremes. Stevie Wonder. Marvin Freakin’ Gaye. I wanna stand in the place where they were, where they made those songs.” Gus turns in his seat and tries to look over his shoulder at me, although he’s so big—and his chest wound obviously hurts him—that he can only turn enough to see me out of the corner of his eye. “Suzie, you’d wanna see that, right?”

“Especially Marvin Freakin’ Gaye.”

He nods as if confirming something and settles back in his seat. Beside him, Alice shakes her head at our foolishness and peers at traffic.

At the airport, Gus painfully gets out of the car and gets my duffel, while Alice gives me a big hug. “You come back and visit, okay? And eat up some. Little girl like you needs some weight on her bones.”

“I’ve got enough, trust me,” I say, hugging her back. “Thanks, Alice.”

Gus clears his throat and holds out my duffel. Alice decides she needs to get back in the car and leaves me alone with Gus. I take my duffel from his giant paw and sling it over my shoulder. “Thanks for everything, Gus,” I say.

He shrugs. “Didn’t do nothin’.”

“You introduced me to your sister and kept me company on the flight up here. That’s something.”

Gus shifts from one foot to the other, which is rather like watching an elephant try to tiptoe. “I’m glad I got to keep an eye on you, too. Like, keep a lookout.”

“So you were babysitting me.”

Gus shakes his head. “No, it’s just—there’s some bad guys out there, Suzie. I know you can take care of yourself, but …” He stands there, tongue-tied and unable to unburden himself of whatever he wants to say.

I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss Gus on the cheek. “Thanks, Gus. You’re a good guy. You go visit that museum.”

He blushes a little, then gives his crooked smile, showing off a broken tooth. “Yeah, okay. You be good.”