Harry went back to washing his dishes, and I took another drink of my beer. I was trying to cut down, but it was so damn hot outside, and I had a bunch of self-pity loading up on me at that time. The way I had it figured, if I could just stay where I was until the sun went down, and then make my way home without getting thrown in jail, I’d be okay. I had some catfish I was going to thaw out later.

Nobody paid any attention to the kid after that. He wasn’t making any noise, wasn’t doing anything to cause people to look at him. He turned loose of the bar and stepped down off the rail, and I saw his head going along the far end toward the door.

But then he stuck his face back around the corner, and motioned me toward him with his finger. I didn’t say a word, I just looked at him. I couldn’t see anything but his eyes sticking up, and that one finger, crooked at me, moving.

I could have looked down at my beer and waited until he went away. I could have turned my back. I knew he couldn’t stay in there with us. He wasn’t old enough. You don’t have to get yourself involved in things like that. But I had to go out for my cigarettes, eventually. Right past him.

I got up and went around there. He’d backed up into the dark pan of the lounge.

“Mister,” he said. “Will you loan me a dollar?”

He already had money for cigarettes. I knew somebody outside had sent him inside.

I said, “What do you need a dollar for?”

He kind of looked around and fidgeted his feet in the shadows while he thought of what he was going to say.

“I just need it,” he said. “I need to git me somethin.”

He looked pretty bad. I pulled out a dollar and gave it to him. He didn’t say thanks or anything. He just turned and pushed open the door and went outside. I started not to follow him just then. But after a minute I did.