“At this place, they make them just like your mama made,” his dad said.
Joe had nodded like that made it okay, like he didn’t miss his mama.
Joe startled at a touch on his elbow and focused on Aria’s splotchy face. He took a step away from her.
“White men won’t feed us, and your plastic boys are going to get the shit kicked out of them.”
Still lagging behind, Devin had his arm around Flix’s shoulders. Devin’s limp was pronounced, and he obviously needed help walking. Aria was right, though. Someone here could decide two males shouldn’t be hanging on each other like that. Especially when one of them wasn’t white.
“Peter,” Joe said, “run back and see if you can give Flix a break and get Devin to hurry a little faster.”
Peter jogged away, and Joe grabbed Aria’s arm and yanked her hard. “Do not call them names.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Joe,” Aria snapped and jerked her arm away. “Is there a name you’d like better? I don’t want to hurt your precious feelings.”
“Not from you. Silence from you would be just fine.”
Aria’s nostrils flared, but just as quickly as her anger had risen, it died away. She looked down. “You used to be my friend.”
“After what you did to your family?” Joe dropped his voice so Flix wouldn’t hear. “To Marcus? You’re here because I care about Navarro. That’s it. You threw away my friendship just like you threw away your family.”
Aria recoiled but didn’t say anything else. Flix drifted into Joe’s path and kept walking. Their shoulders bumped, and Flix didn’t react.
Joe rolled his shoulder, wincing at the sharp sting that lingered whenever someone touched his gunshot wound. “Hey, Flix, are you hungry?” He didn’t dare mention the restaurant, not when Aria might be right. No sense getting anyone’s hopes up.
Flix didn’t answer, not that Joe had expected him to. Instead, Peter slipped past, muttering, “I got him,” and guided Flix down the ramp. Aria followed at a distance, and Joe waited for Devin to catch up.
“Ankle hurts like a bitch,” Devin said as soon as he pulled near. “Flix is bad off.”
Joe closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Devin stunk of sweat, but under that, he smelled like Devin, and that was enough to give Joe comfort. They weren’t even sleeping together at night because they had to take turns standing guard. Aria would probably run off if she had to stand guard, Flix couldn’t be trusted not to kill Aria, and Peter was too scared. “Sorry about your ankle. Do you want to take something? Navarro stocked me up with medicine. Also, we’re going to try to get something to eat from in there.” Joe pointed to the building. “It’s possible they won’t serve us. Likely, even.”
“Let’s find out. And I’ll be fine. What about Flix?”
“You’re doing great with him.”
Devin brushed his knuckles over Joe’s hand. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. I wish you’d taken the crutches when Navarro offered them.”
“Nah. They would have reminded Flix of Marcus. I’ll be okay.”
They reached the restaurant, where the rest of the group loitered outside. Aria and Peter were examining the bikes. Flix leaned against the wall, looking at nothing. Joe was relieved when Devin put his hand on Flix’s shoulder and guided him toward the door.
“Wait,” Joe said. “Let Peter and me go first.” He pulled on the door and followed Peter inside. The low lighting made it seem more like twilight than noon, and it took a moment for Joe’s eyes to adjust. Four rows of brightly covered tables marched to the back of the room. Most were occupied, and Joe was relieved to see people of a variety of skin tones. He headed for an empty table near the entrance when a dark-skinned woman in a weird cylindrical dress bustled in from the back and held up her hand.
“Two, sir?”
Joe had no idea what the woman was referencing. He glanced at Peter, who mouthed, “Five.”
“Oh.” Joe turned back to the woman and gestured to his group. “Five.”
The woman’s eyes roamed behind Joe, probably sizing up Devin, Aria, and Flix. She grimaced and shook her head. “Over here, then.” She led them to a table on the far side of the room, at the very back.
Dark brown ring-shaped stains dotted the table covering. Joe put his hand on one of the plastic chairs and it came away sticky. He’d eaten at worse. He pulled up a fifth chair and motioned for Peter to sit there, while he and Aria took one longer side of the table and Devin and Flix took the other.
The woman slapped mildewed folders on the table. “You know what you want?”
“Not yet.” Joe tried smiling at the woman, but she rolled her eyes at him and walked off. “Well, that was fun. Let’s make sure we have enough funds to eat here.”
“We do,” Devin said. “I saw the chip reader when we came in.”
“Yes, but we need to see how much —”
“We have enough, Joe. Let it go.”
Devin had enough, is what he meant. However Devin’s parents had made mistakes by staying in Austin instead of fleeing north, then dying on him in the same epidemic that killed Joe’s mother, they at least had left him with plenty of money. Joe didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Devin’s money might make the rest of their trip a bit easier now that they were in New America.
The woman — Peter said she was a server — came back, and they told her what they wanted to eat. Devin chose for Flix, who stared, as best Joe could tell, at a spot near Joe’s left ear.
Joe considered the people at the table. They’d all lost someone now. He missed his mother, but the pain was based on what he thought a mother would be like more than any real sense of
