Instead of answering my brother, I said, “Do you remember when Abe and I went looking for Brett at the factory?”

“That was a hell of a bruise,” Doug said with a scowl. “You told me what happened the next day, at the movies.”

“The St. Albans drive-in,” I said, perking up.

“We all went on Saturday night. God, that place was the best.”

It was and it wasn’t. Doug was the only one of us with a license that summer, and he preferred to fill my parents’ car with friends. Crissy had friends of her own with access to cars, so Abe and I had to get creative. Once we got there, it was up to us to find a vehicle to watch from or we’d be stuck sitting cross-legged in the Coke-sticky, ant-ridden grass.

“It was The X-Files,” said Doug, and for once I wasn’t quite as awed by his memory. I’d been obsessed with the series and dying to see the movie. I’d been talking about it for months.

I squeezed an eye closed, willing the memories to trickle in. “But I didn’t get to watch it,” I said. “Because of Abe.”

We’d come to the end of the block. When Doug started heading back toward the house, I slowed my pace a little. I didn’t want our conversation to end.

“You spent the whole night looking for Brett’s car,” Doug said.

“That’s right. We couldn’t find him on Friday, and Abe wanted another shot at convincing him to come home.”

The image was clearer now. I saw a field crammed with cars and pickup trucks at dusk, the snack bar throbbing with parents and kids as the smell of burger grease and popcorn, gasoline and fresh-mowed grass filled the summer air. With a flare of sound the previews started up, and the colossal screen stuttered to life. I saw myself weaving between parked cars still hot to the touch with my head bowed low, circumventing sightlines, but the vehicles were in the hundreds, and many more patrons had set up camp in folding beach chairs, blocking my path. I searched as though my life depended on it while the movie I’d waited years to see played on. I did it for Abe.

“The place was packed,” I said. “It felt like everyone in the county came out for that movie. Suze was there. I think she helped us search.” She’d tried to, anyway, but Abe didn’t want her help. He’d never trusted Suze.

“Dina Ledoux was there, too,” said Doug.

“Redhead?”

“Goddess.”

I laughed. “Was this the girl you were crushing on since your freshman year? The one you always wore that stinky bomber jacket for because she once said she liked it?”

“The very same. I was dying to talk to her, but Abe kept getting in my face.”

“Getting in your face how?”

Again he shrugged. The high winter sun turned the gray hairs behind his ears into tinsel. “He wanted me to look for Brett, too. Kept saying it was his last chance or his dad would be gone forever.”