The Book of Lies

36

My dad heads to the gate alone. Serena follows by herself. By the time I get there, the plane’s already boarding. But my father’s waiting, tucked in the corner by the wide, sun-filled windows. I’d like to think he’s concerned about me, but I can see what he’s really looking at. He’s not going anywhere without my backpack.

Wasting no time, he heads toward me, limping slightly and tender from the stitches. It’s amazing how much slower he moves when he needs something. Especially sympathy. As he steps next to me, he just stands there, waiting for his moment, and I can feel him teeing up his apology for what he said about Mom.

“Calvin, I just want you to know . . .” He clears his throat. “I really appreciate you looking out for Serena like this.”

“Any families with small children or requiring special assistance are invited to board at this time,” the gate agent announces.

“Anyway, I think having her here—it’ll be good for us,” he adds, though when I see who he’s looking at, I don’t think us means him and me.

Tracing his glance, I spot Serena in the corner. She’s staring up at the sky as she marvels at one of the departing planes while talking on her cell. Her skin’s splotchy, and a bit of tummy chub rolls over the front of her jeans. But the way the sun hits her—it’s like she’s made of bronze. She’s gotta be my age. Maybe a year or two younger.

“See that?” my dad adds, turning his crooked face back at me. “I don’t never get women like that. So the fact she even came here—for me—”

“Who’s she talking to on the phone?”

“She does nutritional consulting for people on chemo. She’s just canceling appointments.”

“You willing to bet your life on that?” I ask, searching the crowd for Naomi and Ellis.

“Calvin, listen: For that agent to even catch you on the phone—feds are already at your house, aren’t they? They’re racing here. What other proof do you need? We’re fighting for our lives now. And Serena’s part of mine. So if you wanna back out—if you don’t wanna come, I understand. But Serena and me—” He breathes hard through his nose. From his front pocket, he pulls out the scrap of paper where he copied the Cleveland address. I make a mental note. He thinks it’s about the address and not the comic. “Anyhow, I hope you come with us.”

My dad walks slowly to the boarding gate. I keep waiting for him to look back to see my decision. But he just keeps watching Serena.

I still don’t move. I know it’s pathetic, but— C’mon, just look back.

He doesn’t.

I still wait.

And he still walks. Part of me can’t blame him. I’ve been out of his life for—

He glances over his shoulder. Our eyes lock.

It’s small and silly and far too precious to actually matter . . .

But it matters.

Everything with your father matters.

Ten feet in front of me, Serena slides next to my dad, and they quickly lock pinkies. She’s not even a bit scared. He’s walking fine now. No limp at all. Boy, was that easy for them.

I don’t know her. I barely know him. And they’re headed to Cleveland based on a delivery address my father pulled out of a dead man’s coffin.

I can stay here. I can. But I heard Naomi’s threats. I saw Ellis’s gun. My father was right about one thing: If I don’t get on this plane, I’ll be arrested today and dead by tomorrow.

My father and Serena disappear down the jetway.

I follow right behind them.

Up, up, and away.