“What’s the purpose of your visit?” the officer asked in a perfunctory manner.

Laura smiled, her cheeks blushing. “Pleasure,” she said, giving it a sensual connotation.

I coughed nerdishly. “We’re staying with some friends,” I corrected, then turned and looked at Laura. “You know, for the night.” Just as the trooper had done, the officer tried to match my face to the ID, but clearly was struggling with it. Up ahead, cars were moving forward. I wondered if I could get away with lifting my leg up with my hand and dropping my foot on the brake. “What’s going on?” I asked, then took a shot: “I don’t remember seeing it backed up like this.”

The officer glanced back at the wall of headlights pointed at her. She had to scream to be heard above the honking. “Some kind of training exercise,” she lied. “You know, the new regulations and all.” She tapped Corbin’s ID. “Agent Corbin, do you happen to have your passport with you?”

I shook my head. “No.” I pointed at the document wallet. “They give us that in lieu of a passport. I think you guys have a similar thing, right? What do they call it?” I frowned, struggling to remember. Ah, I got it! “A courtesy document.”

She had a confused look on her face. She looked at the ID again, tapping it on her extended finger as she considered how to respond. She began looking around for assistance. The traffic up ahead was moving. The gap was widening. “Jack!” she called to another customs officer. “Could you come here for a sec?”

Jack came over. Jack was round all round, a small round head on a round body, as if someone had placed a basketball on top of a beachball, then put a hat on it. “What’s up?”

She handed him Corbin’s ID. “Ever see one of these?” He glanced at it, then looked at me and held it. I looked right back at him, not wavering at all. Nothing to see here. Jack frowned, considering it. The red car began moving, the car behind me honked. It was joined instantly by several others, and the wave started growing once more. It was too much for Jack. I was starting to roll forward. The car was starting to move. Jack handed the wallet back to the female officer. “It’s fine.” He shrugged it off, his whole demeanor expressing, What are the odds? He looked at me, “Have a good night, sir.” He pointed at the honking driver behind me and started walking purposefully toward him.

The officer handed me our documents. I gave them to Laura just as we started rolling forward, into Canada.

I let loose a deep breath and turned to Laura. Tears were snaking around her cheeks and rolling down her face. I squeezed her hand. “Pleasure?”

We crossed the border. When we reached Canadian customs, we were stopped again. An immigration officer with a bushy mustache approached the truck. Officer Dudley Do-Right! I turned off the engine and just sat there. “Welcome to Canada,” he said. “May I see your identification, please?”