When it was over the man picked up his vest, gentle, sliding it out from under Eli’s hand so slow the kid barely noticed, and he shook the woodchips off it and put it back on.
Then he stood up. His knees made a sound like a door.
And he said, “Rough one. He’s gonna sleep hard tonight.”
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That was it. That was all he had to say about it.
The teenagers were gone by then. I didn’t see them leave. Somewhere in those ninety seconds they’d figured out that they were the only ones in that park still enjoying themselves, and they’d taken their phones and walked.
I wanted to run them down. I wanted their names.
The biker read it on my face.
