He still left a five on the counter when Jenny turned away, then slid off the stool and went outside. He was heading toward the bench to give Gavin the sandwich, figuring he might not accept a cash donation but would find it hard to turn down something to eat, when he saw that there was someone already there, handing Gavin a paper cup of what Harry guessed was coffee.

“That’s mighty decent of you,” Gavin said. “And you remembered how I like it, too.”

“Two cream, one sugar,” said the man cheerfully. “You only have to tell me once.”

Harry could not recall ever seeing this character before. A short man, almost pixieish. Bit of a tummy, probably bald on top judging by the lack of hair around his ears, which stuck out like handles, but it was hard to be sure because he wore a hat. One of those caps engineers on old steam engines wore. White with blue pinstripes. His jacket, or, more accurately, a vest, was railroad-themed as well, almost entirely covered with patches depicting various railroads. Santa Fe, Boston & Main, New York Central, Canadian National, and Canadian Pacific.

“Don’t need the cup back,” the man said. “Got plenty more just like it.” As he was turning to go back across the street, he caught sight of Harry, gave him a quick, respectful nod, and said, “Chief.” Then he made his way across the street, waiting for traffic to pass.

Harry stepped closer and handed Gavin the bag. He took it, peered inside, and said, “Aw, man, you shouldn’t have.”

“Ordered it along with some pancakes and couldn’t finish it, so I thought, no sense wasting it.”

Gavin dug out one half of the sandwich and took a huge mouthful of it in his first bite.

“Who’s that?” Harry asked.

Gavin swallowed some of what was in his mouth. “That’s Mr. Choo. Like choo-choo. Like a train. Look at the sign.”

And that was when Harry noticed that there was a business in town he’d not been aware of until this very moment. “Choo-Choo’s Trains,” he said, reading the sign. “When did that place open?”

“Fuck if I know,” Gavin said. “Nice enough guy, though. And I don’t know much about him, before you ask. All I know is his first name. Edwin. I don’t think Choo’s his last name. He doesn’t look like a Choo, if you get my meaning. It’s probably a kind of, whaddya call it, stage name? ’Cause of his business.”

“He looked like some kind of nut. That hat and the vest and all.”

“Kinda nerdy,” Gavin agreed. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the sandwich.”

“No problem.”