I have nothing else to do, and to be honest, I’m curious about where he’s going and what he could possibly need from me, and so like the inquisitive cat who was inevitably killed, I follow.

Except Jude doesn’t really explain much on the way there, only asks me questions about the places I liked to go around town when I was a kid.

“The library is pretty good. The museum is decent, but I sort of memorized all their exhibits by the time I was eight. They need to change it up more.”

“Is there anywhere else in town a child with a brain like yours would like to go?”

I consider the question while Jude directs me down a small street on the south side of town, where the properties are small and the homes manufactured.

No doubt there’s a reason he’s asking me this question, and I imagine it has something to do with our destination.

“Maybe to go see the microscopes on campus.”

“Microscopes?”

“Yeah. I wish they’d had them when I was a kid. They started a whole mineralogy lab with funding from the mines. They’re using various microscopes to analyze sections of ore to project profitability for mining ventures in certain locations, and to anticipate any problems of a metallurgical nature that may arise during milling and smelting.”

“Smelting?”

“Extracting metal from the ore.”

“Alrighty then. And just anyone can go in and see these microscopes?”

“Well, no. But one of my professors told us he allows his techs to show them to interested students. I haven’t gone yet, though, even though he said we could drop in any time the lab’s open.”

Ever since I heard they had brought in a probe-corrected scanning transmission electron microscope, I’ve been dying to go see it, but I have yet to muster up the courage to go to the lab on my own.

“I knew you were the right person to help me with this.”

“I’m still not sure what it is I’m helping you with.” Although I’m starting to get an inkling.

“Is the lab open today?”

I swallow. “Yes.”

“Then you, my dear Tootsie Roll, are going to see those microscopes today.” He claps his hands once. “Park here.” He motions to a faded and sagging double wide on the right side of the road, and I pull in next to an ancient station wagon. “I’ll be right back.”

Jude gets out of the car and lopes up a rickety porch.

He doesn’t take long. Within moments, he’s back with his friend, pulling the seat forward for him to clamber into the back seat.

His friend, who can’t be more than ten years old.

I did expect a child, but watching him high-five Jude and crawl into my back seat is still a bit surprising.

“Hello,” I say.

“Hi.” The kid has dark hair and wide brown eyes. And he’s wearing a dark jacket and red tie. The tie has a stain on the bottom and the suit jacket is worn and entirely too large for his thin frame.