Pearl and Felix settled into a booth near a window looking out onto the side street where the Mustang was parked. I stood in line waiting my turn, then placed our order, paid the tab, and watched while our meal was assembled: three QPs with Cheese, two Big Macs, three large orders of fries, and three Cokes. The Big Macs were for them, though I’d have been willing to suck on the paper wrappers if they offered me the chance. I crossed to the table with the tray and distributed the food. I noticed Pearl kept the backpack beside her, the canvas duffel tucked between her feet.

We ate without saying much, each of us intent on the fragrant blend of meat and cheese, grilled to a fare-thee-well, tucked in a soft bun, and liberally doused with the ketchup we squeezed from little plastic envelopes. I’d picked up extra salt packets, and we spared ourselves nothing in the way of additives, preservatives, and sodium chloride.

I let Felix bus the table, after which we returned to the car and got in. “Where should I drop you?”

Pearl said, “Anywhere at the beach is fine. We’ll figure it out from there.”

I fired up the Mustang, cruised down one block and over one, eventually turning right onto Milagro. I headed for Cabana Boulevard. The combination of junk food and the sharp drop in my stress levels had left me logy and longing for sleep. In an attempt to make conversation, I said, “How’d you two end up on the street? That can’t be much fun.”

Felix leaned forward on the seat, inserting himself between the two of us like the family dog on an outing. “More fun than you’d think. I run off when I was fifteen and went to live with my dad.”

Pearl smiled at him. “This guy’s epileptic. Had a brain injury, didn’t you?”

“Yep. My mom come after me with a ballpeen hammer. Soft-faced instead of hard, which she said was a lucky break for me. She give me such a whack she knocked me out cold. When I come to I was seeing stars and didn’t have a clue where I was at. Didn’t bleed much, but my head hurt bad. After that, I started having fits—ten to fifteen a day.”

“She claimed he only did it to embarrass her,” Pearl said.

“That’s right. She didn’t take me to the doctor for two years. Said the fits was phoney-baloney I came up with just to bug the shit out of her. Couldn’t prove it by me. I’d be fine and then I’d be down on the ground pissin’ myself.”

Pearl said, “By the time she took him for help, the seizures damaged his brain.”