“I don’t understand,” Jolaine said. “Is there a problem?”
“I’d really prefer to talk inside,” the cop said. “No sense waking the entire complex.”
Jolaine’s heart and head raced together to figure out a plan. She stepped back from the door and ushered them inside.
“I’m Officer Bonds,” the first cop said. “This is Officer Medina. Is everything okay here?”
“Of course,” Jolaine said. “Why wouldn’t it be?” She played it as absurd, and hoped she hadn’t oversold it.
“Are you here alone?” Bonds asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m here with my little brother.”
“And where is he?”
“In the bathroom. Excuse me, Officer, but I’m not comfortable—”
The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam, and revealing Graham with wild wet hair and a white towel wrapped around his waist. “Hey Jolaine, did we bring—” He saw the cops. “Holy shit.”
“This is my brother, Tommy,” Jolaine said, suddenly aware that she hadn’t yet told Graham that he had an alias.
Graham said nothing, but his expression was an open confession to the Lincoln assassination.
“Who’s Jolaine?” Officer Medina asked. He stood in the doorway to the parking lot, blocking the only route of escape. He asked the question to Graham, and the boy still couldn’t find any words.
The cops’ eyes shifted in unison to Jolaine. “I am,” she said. She was winging it now.
Medina stayed focused on Graham. “And who are you? I mean really?”
“He’s Tommy Bernard,” Jolaine said. Her words clearly pissed off the cop, who was trying to get a rise out of the boy, but she had to get it out there if the kid was going to have a chance.
“I’m Tommy Bernard,” Graham said.
“Uh-huh,” Bonds said. “What’s going on here?”
“My brother and I are on a trip,” Jolaine said.
“Where to?” Medina asked.
“I don’t see where that’s any of your business,” Jolaine said. They’d crossed the line where she felt her best defense — maybe her only defense — would be a little offense.
“Why did you lie about your name?” Bonds said.
“Is that a crime?”
“It could be. Let me see some identification.”
As Jolaine fished through her pockets for the business-card folder she used to house her driver’s license and credit card, Medina said to Graham, “How about you? Got any ID?”
Graham shook his head. Jolaine could tell that his own fear was giving away to annoyance. “No,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m fourteen and I just got out of the shower.”
“You got clothes in there?” Medina asked, craning his neck to see into the bathroom.
“Yeah.”
“Then go put some pants on,” Medina said. “But keep the door open.”
Graham started to retreat back into the bathroom, but then stopped and gave Medina wicked glare. “Wait, you perv. I’m not going to take a towel off so you can watch me naked.”
Medina’s ears grew red as Graham stepped back to his original spot.
Jolaine’s heart raced faster. She’d seen Graham after he’d crossed into high adolescent indignation, and it never made a situation better. Never. She pulled her driver’s license out of its pocket and held it by the edges so Bonds could read it.
When he reached for it, she pulled it away. “Look but don’t touch,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“This is my property. If I don’t give it to you, you can’t take it from me.” Across the room, Graham seemed to like that.
Bonds gave a derisive, condescending chuckle. “I don’t know what Internet law books you’ve been reading, but you have an obligation to provide identification to a sworn officer of the law.”
“I am providing identification,” she said. “I’m just not letting you have the card.” Her fear was that if she gave him her license, he would have leverage over her, tacit permission to stick around until he was damn good and ready to give it back.
“You’re a pretty smart-mouthed team, aren’t you?” Medina asked. His color still had not recovered from the accusation of pedophilia. On one level, Jolaine thought he had it coming — that was, after all what Hi-my-name-is-Carl had thought of her, thus launching this confrontation in the first place.
“What we are,” Jolaine said, “is a tired team. It’s been a long day, and frankly, I’m feeling a little harassed right now. I know what the desk clerk was thinking when I checked in, and I know why you’re here. And yes, frankly, it pisses me off.”
“That so?” Bonds asked. “Why are we here?”
“Because you think Tommy and I are having sex with each other.”
Graham’s reaction was instant, and straight from the heart. “What? Eew. That’s disgusting! Jesus, you are a perv.”
Hearing it said out loud made it seem even more disgusting, and just like that, Bonds’s discomfort became obvious.
“If you’re not, then our friend Carl up front is,” Jolaine said.
“How come you and your brother have different names?” Medina asked. From the way he leaned on the word, she could tell that he wasn’t yet buying.
“Different fathers,” she said. The explanation came so quickly that it made her proud.
“Where’s your luggage?” Medina made a show of scanning the tiny room. “I don’t see any suitcases.”
“Okay,” Graham said. “You got us. You want the truth? We were in this big shoot-out tonight where a lot of people were killed, and now international spies are chasing us and trying to kill us. That’s why we’re here. How’s that?”
Jolaine nearly dashed over to shut him up. This was it, the end of everything.
“Man, you really do have an attitude problem, don’t you?” Medina said. “I see punks like you every day when I put them in jail. What do you bet I’ll see you one day, too?”
Holy shit, they don’t believe the truth! Jolaine nearly laughed. “Come on, Officer,” she said. “He’s fourteen and he’s tired, and you guys are riding pretty hard. Cut him a break.” To Bonds, she said, “I don’t know what to tell you, other than to say that so far as we know, we’re not breaking any laws.”
Bonds’s eyes narrowed. “Are you two runaways?”
“I’m twenty-seven,” Jolaine said. “Who would I be running away from?”
Bonds turned to address Graham. “Are you okay, son? If there’s a problem, this is the time to tell me. No one can hurt you, I promise.”
Graham rolled his eyes. “Jesus,” he said, and he disappeared back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“I get to be with that for five days,” Jolaine said. “Don’t you wish you were me?”
Bonds regarded her for a while longer, then nodded. “Okay,” he said. “You win. Sorry we bothered you.”
After they were gone and the door was closed, Jolaine wasn’t convinced they were really on their way. Finally, the cruiser backed out of its spot, and she could breathe again.
Morning came early.
All things considered, Jolaine decided it would be best if she left Graham in the room and shopped alone. It was just too damned hard to come up with an explanation for his near-nakedness. Having never bought clothes for an adolescent, she cursed herself for never having studied the labels in his clothes.
She had to guess on the sizes, but a clerk at the Walmart helped a lot. Turns out that at a certain age, all boys can fit into size medium T-shirts, and no boys would be caught in underwear that bore the word “briefs.” She could verify that one, thanks to the laundry duties that came with her contract with the Mitchells. With no idea of appropriate shoe size, she bought one pair each of medium and large flip-flops. That was all Graham wore this time of year anyway, and it seemed to her that his feet were growing even faster than his disproportionately long arms and legs. It was no wonder that he suffered so from teasing at the hands of the other boys in his school. She suspected that the teasing came from the girls as well.