Crane left a note for Max, letting him know he’d gone out for errands and closed the door quietly behind him so he wouldn’t wake Max from his well-deserved nap. Whistling, he took the stairs down, spinning the key ring on his finger as he shielded his eyes against the midafternoon sun. He stopped on the last step and stood there momentarily, just glad to be out of the house. It felt great. He felt great. Crane watched a family of four cross the street, the mother squinting down at the phone in her hand while dragging along a little boy in bathing trunks. From the pallor of their skin, Crane assumed they’d just arrived and weren’t familiar yet with the area. Sure enough, the father spotted Crane and steered the baby stroller towards him, a smile on his face.

“Howdy! Hablar Ang-lays?” the man asked in a twangy accent as he touched the rim of his cap.

“I do,” Crane replied. “Are you looking for the beach?”

“We are,” the man replied, then called to his wife. “Mags, I found help!”

Crane grinned. “Just keep following this road, then turn left at the fence. You’ll see the access to the beach right away.”

“Thank you. We got turned ‘round,” the man said, jiggling the stroller back and forth a few times to soothe its cranky occupant. “Much obliged. Mags, it’s this way!”

Watching them go, Crane felt his mood shift. Soberly, he thought about how foreign it all seemed to him now. Just a nice little family vacation where no one was trying to drug or manipulate anyone, where no one had to worry about winding up in jail or whether someone was going to sodomize them while drunk . . .

Booooring.

With a rueful chuckle, Crane shook his head and went up the street in the opposite direction of the tourist family and had to admit the voice in his head had a point. If there was one thing life with Max certainly wasn’t, it was boring.