Kids These Days by Drew Perry Page B

fountain?” I asked.
    The woman said, “We do not.”
    â€œWhat about the soda?”
    â€œThat machine is out of order.”
    I said, “Would you mind if we—”
    She said, “Sir, please sit down. Someone will be with you in a moment.”
    I walked the edges of the room. Alice sat by the window, staring out into the parking lot. There was a clock, childhood-era industrial, the kind that plugged into the wall and ran its second hand around. Carolyn finally appeared out of a door in the side of the room that said UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY PROHIBITED , and when she saw Alice, she went straight to her, put her face in her shoulder. I couldn’t tell whether to watch or look away. I heard her say, “Goddamnit, Leecy, I didn’t sign up for this.” I looked away.
    Alice took her outside to get her calmed down. I sat inside with the Tab. By the time they came back in, I had a plan going where I would just grab one, start drinking, see what happened. The machine bothered me, standing open like that. Alice and Carolyn sat down, and Alice said, “He asked to see you when you got here.”
    I said, “Me?”
    â€œHe asked specifically,” Carolyn said. Her face was puffed up.
    â€œWhat do I do?”
    â€œThey call you,” said Carolyn. “I asked them to give us a few minutes first.”
    â€œI just go back there?”
    â€œThey come and get you,” she said.
    I wasn’t thinking right. “Are they not letting him go?” I asked, and Carolyn started crying again.
    â€œThey’re keeping him overnight,” Alice said, almost whispering. “They can’t find a judge who can see him before tomorrow.”
    I said, “A judge?”
    Alice mouthed
not right now,
rubbed her hand across Carolyn’s back.
    The door opened again, the UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY door. A policeman dressed in brown and green said, “Walter Ingram?” I raised my hand. “Come with me,” he said. Carolyn pushed her hair out of her eyes, then leaned back into Alice again. The officer let me through the door. “Empty your pockets for me, sir,” he said, and I put my keys and my wallet on a beige table in the middle of a beige room. Change and receipts. Little bits of sand. There was a camera up in the corner by the ceiling. The officer said, “Please hold your arms out from your sides.” I held my arms up and he passed a small black wand over my body. It beeped at my belt buckle. He made me take that off. Once we were beepless, he let me through another door and into another tan room, and there was Mid, in a pair of jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and sock feet. He was not in handcuffs. He was sitting at a table with a paper cup of water in front of him. The table was too small for him, or the chair, or both. He said, “Did you bring me a beer?”
    â€œThey took everything I had back there.” I turned my pockets inside out.
    Mid said, “They took my shoes and shoelaces. Apparently I’m not supposed to hang myself.”
    â€œAre you wanting to hang yourself?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œGood,” I said. “Right? That’s a positive.”
    â€œOne way to look at it.” He picked up his water, set it down again without drinking. “Thanks for coming.”
    â€œAnytime.” I sat down across from him.
    â€œThis isn’t me,” he said. “I wanted to make sure to tell you that to your face. This isn’t me.”
    â€œOK,” I said.
    â€œBut I can’t really talk about it. The lawyer’s telling me not to discuss it until we get to court.”
    â€œIt’s good you have a lawyer,” I said.
    â€œHe’s a tax attorney, but he said he’ll have somebody by tomorrow. Somebody who does criminal.”
    â€œCriminal,” I said.
    â€œIt’s just a precaution.”
    â€œAlice says you might be in overnight?”
    â€œWe have to set bail. Then