บท 4: Chapter 4

John—that was the name he was using this school year, and sometimes he wondered what it would be like to have the same name all the time and not have to worry about remembering which one he was using today—tugged aside the board, tossed in his backpack, then pushed in Ma’s bag before he ducked into the space and replaced the board.

In his pocket was the apple pie the man at McDonald’s had given him money for. He took it out and peeled back the wrapper. The pie was kind of crumbled up now, the filling leaking out. He licked it off his fingers and thought about the man.

What would really be great was if he had a dad like that man, one who’d make whoever was chasing them finally leave them alone.

He sighed. It would never happen. Every time someone grew close to them, he died. He thought sadly of Mr. Jackson, the man in Savannah who’d planned to build an addition to his house for him and Ma. He’d been shot outside Home Depot, right in front of him and Ma.