“But maybe someone will care less about taking fake IDs,” Evan answered.

“Exactly,” said Ben. “That kid was the problem. The regular owner would have totally sold to us.”

“You said that was the easiest place,” Hutch said to Ben. “That was the place anyone could knock over.”

They chewed sandwiches in Au Bon Pain. The employees were without affect. There was a hectic family next to them and several people eating alone and reading or just looking out the window onto the train station.

Ben felt the other two figuring out what they were going to say when they got back to school.

“Look,” Ben said.

“What?”

“That guy.” He had to do it before he could stop. “Hey, ’scuse me,” said Ben. “Hey, man.”

The man had his head resting on the wall behind him, and he didn’t lift it off as he turned his eyes to Ben. The other two came up just behind Ben and he could feel their reluctance.

The smell of the man came to Ben: his sweat was different from sweat at the gym. The man’s eye-whites were the color of year-old newspaper, and his Southpole puffy coat had white wavy rings on it, as though it had dried after soaking in salt water.

“Hey, listen. Could you help us out?”

The man seemed wary, as though trying to anticipate how the boys were going to move.

“Could you help us out?”

“Yeah?”

Ben lowered his voice. “Can you buy us alcohol?”

The man passed his eyes over all their faces again, and then he smiled. His teeth were lighter than his eyes.

“You want me to walk in somewhere and break the law for you?”

They laughed fearfully and nodded.

The man didn’t move, didn’t lean toward them, and his smile didn’t change. Ben wasn’t sure if he had understood.

“Nah, I’m good here.” He closed his eyes again.

“We’ll pay you,” Ben said.

The man opened his eyes again and looked at Ben. Ben held his gaze.

“Where’re you thinking to buy from?” the man asked.

Hutch started but Ben cut him off. “Chinatown’s right here.”

The man lifted his head off the wall. Ben expected him to spit on the table.

“The birthday party got canceled without me, huh?”

Ben tried to change his expression to seem like he got some joke. The man laughed and then coughed, a sound like shucking corn, and in unison all three boys leaned away.

Outside they all stood underneath the Chinatown arch. Everyone passing them, white and Chinese, looked at them in the expiring light. The streetlamps came on. They approached Pacific Liquors, but then Evan said the kid would recognize the duffel bags.

“Don’t have all night, fellas.”

“All right, it’s fine. Just let him use one of them,” Ben said.