13

Auggie was still wearing the tee, shorts, and sneakers that Theo had lent him when they walked toward the Malibu. The sun had stopped just at the horizon, like it was never going to finish setting. That was fine with Auggie. It was a perfect day, even if the air was so thick he felt like he was breathing underwater, even with the mosquitos starting to come out, even with his clothes pasted to him with sweat.

“Do you want to change?” Theo asked.

“Will I blend in better with a polo and chinos and loafers?”

Theo rolled his eyes.

“You just want to see me get naked again.”

“I was asking a question. That’s all.”

“Oh my God, are you blushing?”

“Let’s play the no-talking game.”

“It’s so cute. Your face is the same color as those little red hairs in your beard.”

“No talking,” Theo said. “Starting now.”

Auggie just smirked when Theo handed over the keys.

“Shut up,” Theo said.

Auggie gave him his best injured expression.

“You heard me,” Theo said.

They drove first to a run-down apartment building south of Wroxall’s campus. It was a two-story walk-up with a crumbling brick façade. Someone had papered an entire bulletin board with flyers for FREE KARATE LESSONS – IN-HOME STUDIO – GIRLS ONLY.

“Jesus,” Auggie said.

“Please don’t call that number,” Theo said.

“It’s says girls only.”

“I know.”

Theo led Auggie to a ground-floor unit, 17, and rapped on the door. Only a single light was working in the corridor, and moths bumped up against the milky glass. From inside the apartment came a steady, thudding bass, and then screams of laughter. When the door opened, a girl stood there, her hair fried from too much bleaching, her eyes vacant. A chemical smell, like too-hot electronics, wafted out into the hall.

“Jessie?” Theo said.

The girl turned and shouted over the music, “Jess!” Then she stumbled back into the apartment.

“This is the girl Cal hung out with?” Auggie said. “I remember Wayne saying that name, Jessie. How’d you find her?”

“Chris told me her last name, and then I looked her up in the student directory.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to ask her where Cal is.”

“Uh huh. And when she doesn’t tell us?”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?”

Auggie tried not to groan and said, “Maybe because they’re smoking meth right now. How’s that for a starter?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come up with a plan that meets your approval.”

“It’s ok. I’ve got an idea. Can you butch it up a little?”

“Excuse me?”

“Butch. I’m only asking for a little.”

“You’re the one who showed up at my house in loafers. Sockless.”

“Talk about Monster energy drinks. Stand—no, like this, like you’re always trying to make sure she notices your arms and shoulders. Ok. No, not at all. Do you not know how this works? You’ve got great arms. Killer shoulders. Why are you standing like you’re trapped in a paper grocery bag?”

“I’m standing like I normally stand, Auggie,” Theo said through gritted teeth.

“Never mind. Just pretend you like the Cardinals and look at her boobs.”

“I do like the Cardinals.”

“Yeah, like that, only try to be convincing.”

Theo was glaring at him, mouth open, when another girl came to the door. Her brown hair had highlights that needed touched up, and she was barefoot in jean shorts and a midriff top. “Yeah?”

“Jessie?” Auggie said.

“Yeah?”

“Where is that cheating motherfucker?”

She blinked. Her eyes were glassy. “Huh?”

“Cal. Where the fuck is he?”

“Listen, you can’t—”

“And don’t even think about protecting him. Did you know he was cheating on you?” Auggie thumped Theo on the chest. “He’s been pumping my bro’s girl for weeks now. Did he tell you that? Did you have any idea?”

This was when Auggie looked at Theo.

“And,” Theo said in an unnaturally deep voice, “he, uh, took my Axe body spray.”

For a moment, Auggie was speechless.

Fortunately, Jessie was already focused on something else. “What the fuck? What the fuck? That cheating motherfucker. I knew it! I knew he was doing somebody else. Where is she? I’m going to cut a bitch. Where is she?”

“He’s not here?”

“No. I haven’t seen that dickhole for almost two weeks. Who’s the girl? Who’s this bitch he’s been seeing? She’s your girlfriend?”

“You haven’t seen him for two weeks?”

“No. We did some blow a couple of weeks ago, and he didn’t even chip in. I haven’t seen him since. I knew that motherfucker was cheating. I knew it!”

Jessie turned away, heading into the apartment with jerkily fast steps.

“Any follow-up questions?” Auggie said.

“No. Is she . . .”

“She’s going to cut a bitch,” Auggie said. “Do you want to stay around for that part?”

“Not really.”

“Axe body spray?”

“Let’s play the no-talking game again.”

“Frankly,” Auggie said, “that would be a relief.”

As they backed out of the parking stall, Auggie said, “I thought maybe Saint Taffy’s next. That was another place Wayne mentioned.”

Theo shook his head. “That’s a cop bar. He might have gotten wasted there, and I’d believe he might have started a bender there if it was just booze. Someone would have to be really stupid to try to deal there. And even stupider to try to score.”

“So where?”

“Meramec Maniacs.”

“Oh, is that one of those urban chic hipster places that are popping up all over town?”

“Less commentary, please.”

“You know, like, svelte Missouri movie-star casual.”

“Just so you know, this is why nobody likes people from California.”

Auggie grinned as he followed Theo’s directions out of town. Once they were past the city limits, they followed a state highway into the darkness. The last ember of day was sinking on the horizon. Fields of crops, some still green with big red tassels, some golden-white when the headlights swept across them, were stitched together with long miles of trees or fenced pasture.

“Sorghum,” Theo said.

“Pineapple.”

Theo smiled. “Sorry. Bad habit.”

“I was just teasing. I like when you teach me things. Which one is sorghum?”

“The one with the rust-colored grains.”

“Oh. And, just in case somebody didn’t know, what’s sorghum?”

“It’s a grass. Some people eat the grain, and they also make molasses out of it. A lot of it is for animal feed, though.”

“Huh.”

“As I said, bad habit. I’ll be quiet.”

“Does your family grow sorghum?”

Theo glanced sideways at him. “Actually, they do. There’s been a huge demand for it lately. China is buying a lot of it. Dad and Jacob switched most of the fields over to sorghum last year. They made a killing. Well, relatively speaking. It’s not quite movie-star money.”

They drove another mile, the headlights carving out parts of the world: a glint of animal eyes, the highway’s weedy shoulder, an irrigation pipe, a branch hanging out over the asphalt.

“I don’t care about that stuff, you know.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m not a snob.”

“I know.”

“I just—it’s just different from where I grew up.”

“I know.”

Auggie tried to think of the right way to say what he wanted to say, but they all sounded the same, and they all jumbled together, so he just drove the rest of the way in silence.

Meramec Maniacs was a long, low frame building that had obviously been built in stages and, Auggie guessed, with whatever was cheapest or easily available. In some places, corrugated sheet metal served as siding; in others, strips of what Auggie thought might be tin; plywood, boards, and a few scabs of vinyl siding covered the rest of the structure. Light seeped through a thousand cracks, and when Auggie turned off the Malibu, the twang of rockabilly music filled the car.

“Please wait here,” Theo said as he unbuckled himself.

“No.”

“Auggie, please. I said it nicely. This place is . . . rough.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I don’t think you’re a kid.”

“Yes, you do. You think I’m this naïve, spoiled California kid, and you think I can’t take care of myself.”

Theo released the seat belt, which retracted with a soft whir, and then he pushed his hair behind his ears. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I can handle myself.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Auggie set his jaw.

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Ten, tops. Any longer than that, and I want you to call the sheriff.”

“What?”

“Kidding,” Theo said with a small smile. “Please stay here. I promise I’ll be fast.”

The door clicked shut, and then Theo was just a dark shape moving in front of the pinpricks of light leaking out of the bar. Auggie drummed his thumbs on the wheel. Then he unbuckled himself and went inside.

The music hit him like a wall, guitar and banjo and drums, a man belting out something about his dog and his truck. Inside, the bar was darker than Auggie had expected, with exposed bulbs hanging at distant intervals. The floor had been chopped up with shoulder-high walls, creating a maze of nooks and crannies where tables and booths were nestled. Men and women filled most of the available space, and Auggie had to turn sideways to squeeze through the crowd. His borrowed sneakers scuffed through sawdust, and every breath brought the stink of sweat, bodies, and beer.

He made his way to the bar and found an opening at the end. When the bartender looked over, Auggie waved once, and the guy—young, with a flattop and a Harley Davidson t-shirt—nodded before moving to fill two pints at the tap. Auggie used the time to study the crowd. Rough was a pretty good description. Big guys with beards and leather vests, hard-looking women in tank tops and booty shorts.

One of the guys, probably not much older than Auggie, stared back at him. He had on a full leather jacket in spite of the heat, the sleeves decorated with metal studs, and under it he was wearing a grubby shirt that said EAT FUCK KILL. He looked jittery, with a twitch under one eye. When he stood, he bumped the table, almost spilling the drinks, but he didn’t seem to hear the shouts and complaints of the people he was with. He kept his eyes on Auggie as he came toward him.

Auggie glanced over at the bartender. Flattop was wiping his hands on a towel, watching, obviously not intending to get involved.

“You’re in the wrong place.”

Auggie looked at EAT FUCK KILL and immediately regretted it. The guy had obviously been hitting the glass pipe pretty frequently: his teeth were brown stumps, and his breath reeked of decay. Up close, the twitch in his face was more pronounced.

“I’m just getting a drink,” Auggie said.

“Get it somewhere else. You’re in the wrong place.”

Auggie didn’t break eye contact, but he was aware that the men and women closest to him were throwing sidelong looks, some of them carrying drinks away from the area as though anticipating a fight.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” Auggie said. “I just came in here for a drink.”

EAT FUCK KILL smiled, exposing more of the brown mess of teeth. “You got something wrong with your hearing?”

“Go sit down,” Auggie said. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Fuck, kid. The only mistake was you coming in here thinking you were hot shit.” He grabbed Auggie’s arm, yanking Auggie toward the door. Auggie threw one wild look around the room; nobody would meet his eyes. They all stared at their drinks or had their attention fixed off in the distance.

Then EAT FUCK KILL rocked forward. For a moment, a brief look of amazement crossed his face. He went up onto the tips of his toes and squealed. Releasing Auggie, he stumbled to the side, one hand pressed to his back. Theo was there, grabbing Auggie as the other man fell. Theo’s face was hard, almost unrecognizable, and he delivered two brutal stomps—the first one landing mid-thigh on the other man, the second coming down on his chest. EAT FUCK KILL wheezed as he curled up on the ground. Bubbles of spit flecked the corner of his mouth.

Without a word, Theo dragged Auggie toward the door. The music was still blaring. My dog and my truck, my dog and my truck, my dog and my truck. A banjo picked up the melody, notes coming faster than Auggie could believe. Then he stumbled through the door after Theo, the night a dark, humid weight falling on him, the inside of his mouth tasting like cigarettes.

Theo just kept moving, hauling Auggie toward the Malibu.

“Theo, I’m sorry—”

“Be quiet.”

When they reached the car, Theo shoved him around the front, and Auggie slid into the driver’s seat. His face was hot. His eyes prickled.

“Start the car,” Theo said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Start the goddamn car and let’s get out of here before that son of a bitch’s friends decide to even the score.”

Auggie’s breath hitched, but he started the car, backed away from the bar, and pulled onto the state highway.

“Stay in the goddamn lane,” Theo said. “Or do I need to drive?”

Shaking his head, Auggie corrected course.

They’d driven for ten minutes before Auggie tried again. “I was just going to ask the bartender if he’d seen Cal.”

“I asked you to stay in the car.”

“I thought—”

“I know what you thought. Everybody in that fucking bar knows what you thought. Be quiet, Auggie, and drive the fucking car.” After a moment, Theo hammered on the car door. “God damn it.”

“I’m sorry,” Auggie whispered.

After that, they didn’t talk except for when Theo barked out directions. Auggie didn’t dare ask where they were going, although he could tell that they were heading away from Wahredua. After a while, he saw signs for Kingdom City, and then a blue I-70 sign. Some of the tension had drained out of Theo, and he was rubbing his knee.

When the sign for a travel plaza appeared, Auggie said, “How bad is your knee? Can I stop and buy some ice for it, please?”

“It’s fine.” Then, seeming to work for it, Theo said, “Thanks anyway.”

At Theo’s instruction, Auggie merged onto I-70, and they drove until Theo told him to exit at a rest stop. Sodium lights buzzed high overhead, illuminating a grassy strip with concrete-block bathrooms, men’s and women’s separated by a few cement benches. An old Chevy with a camper shell slanted across two disabled parking spaces, and a sedan was nosed up to the base of one of the lights. Two tractor-trailers were parked along the edge of the lot. Other than that, the stop was empty. Not a person in sight.

When Theo unbuckled himself, Auggie said, “What do you want me to do?”

“Why does it matter what I say?” Theo said and got out of the car.

Auggie rested his head on the steering wheel, wiped his eyes, and then ran after him. They checked the bathrooms first, Theo calling out, “Cleaning crew,” several times before entering the women’s. Then they made their way around the perimeter of the stop. Theo halted abruptly. Then Auggie knew why: he had smelled death before, and he recognized it now.

Theo stomped on the tall prairie grass to mat it down, moving a few steps and then taking a deep breath. Auggie crept after him. Then Theo stopped and took out his phone. He swept the light back and forth.

“There,” Auggie said, where light gleamed on metal. A belt buckle, Auggie realized when Theo steadied the light. And denim. And legs.

Theo nodded. “Call the police. I think we found Cal.”