They cruised by and the children began studying the low brick-and-frame buildings for a suitable place to eat, though they knew they had no say in the matter, or had any idea what “suitable” might be. They passed a lone gas station and saw a sprawling frame structure made to look like a Black Forest chateau, with crossed one-by-sixes stained brown and screwed into the fake plaster siding.

A neon sign hung next to the front door that read, John and Jen’s Cozy Den and Outdoorsman’s Cafe. Betty gritted her teeth and nodded.

“Gaawiin gosha niminwenimaasiig gaayosejig. But, better hunters than lumberjacks.”

They swung the car in and rolled to a stop, the car as heavy and wide as a barge and the children half-expected a plank to be thrown from the doors to the sidewalk. Simon and Lester were out in a flash and popped the back hatch open so Caroline could worm out. Betty lined them up and made sure their clothes were clean, checked them for face dirt and grime under their fingernails. Satisfied, she held Irma and took the lead like she was going on point. All three children were solemn and mindful, masks of obedience painted over their uncertainty. They had never eaten in a restaurant before. They weren’t sure if Betty had either, but didn’t dare ask.

She approached the dining room, noticed the Seat Yourself sign and surveyed what the restaurant had to offer. There were scattered chairs and pine-top tables and, along the window overlooking the highway, three booths. The end booth nearest the kitchen was packed with a family of six. Four children on the inside and the two bleary parents squeezed on the ends like corks to keep their offspring from spilling out into the restaurant. They were eating French toast while clutching cigarettes in their free hands.

The middle booth held three people—a teenage boy reading a book on motorcars, and his parents. The wife was in khakis with a bouquet of white hair around her unwrinkled face, clouds around an opal. The man looked slightly annoyed and sipped coffee while trying to cross and uncross his legs under the gum-studded table. He wore an impossibly elegant white suit. Betty arrowed for the last booth. She knew that they were watching her, a curious woodland misplacement. She put the boys next to Fred and Caroline beside her while she held Irma on her lap.