He kind of looks like one of those Little Rascals kids in old black-and-white movies, like he should be wearing a newsboy cap and knickers.
We get to the bus stop and the schedule says the bus will be there in eight minutes.
“I'll wait with you,” I tell him. “Up to you.” He shrugs. “Can I borrow a dollar? I want some gum.”
I fish a dollar out of my pocket and watch him cross the street to the grocery store on the corner.
He seems too small to be walking around by himself, somehow.
Then I think how I was that young when I was taking the subway by myself. Way too young.
I'm going to be an overprotective dad someday, I know it. My kids are going to know I care.
I'm waiting there a minute or two when I notice three kids walking up the block from the other direction.
They walk right past the grocery store, but one of them looks inside and nudges the other two, and they all back up and look inside.
I can tell they're up to no good, all elbowing each other, laughing.
One of them is Jack's height but the other two look much bigger, more like teens.
They hide behind the fruit stand in front of the store, and when Jack walks out, they trail behind him, making loud throw-up noises.
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