Forked River

I dropped it. It slipped. I caught the cord, the plug. The plug ripped my hand going down. I bled. Hot air rushed through the window. Afterwards there was the sound. It was loud, like fluffing a pillow.

Ms. Newberry said, Fuck. She laughed. She didn’t ask about my hand. The sweat on her skin dripped. Still on the couch, she got dressed. A T-shirt. My basketball shorts. She leaned out the window. One damp leg extended behind her. I could do it again. With her, I thought, whenever I want. She never seemed so old up close.

Practice makes perfect, she said. Rinse and repeat.

I need those back, I said.

I went down. The street was empty. The night was empty. Outside was cooler, but still hot. It smelled like still water. Her head hung out the window. Her apartment was the only one lit. The window unit lay over trash cans. Their thick green plastic buckled underneath it. The thin black plastic bags ripped open. Their insides spilled over the sidewalk.

It’s still hot up here, she called. Come back to me. I wanted her to say more. I wanted a word at the end. Come back to me, then a word. What could she call me. Something between us. Bring that thing back, she said.

She has a gun. It’s upstairs, in a velvet case. She keeps the clip in her purse. At least, when she’s not at school. That’s why I started coming here. So she could show me the gun. I guess that’s why she likes me. I like the things she likes. She likes what I like. That’s how you know.

Look, she said. I didn’t see the head at first. His legs stretched out beside me. I touched him, but he didn’t move. He smelled like old beer. There was blood. It could have been mine. I never saw a dead body before. There was my grandmother at the wake. But never raw, never fresh.

She was still up there. She was looking down the street. Bring it up, she said. I lifted the air conditioner. I tried not to touch him again. It didn’t feel so heavy anymore. His face was pressed into the trash. I left him. She buzzed me in. When the buzzer sounded, I dropped it. Again? she said. She heard it. Everyone heard it. I walked up the four flights. At her door, she was dressed.    

I’ll give you a blanket, she said. Put it over him.

Should we call? I said. I turned on my phone. It was difficult to press the screen. My hands shook. They bled.

Put that thing away. I don’t want it around me. I told you that.

I turned off the phone. She turned on her phone.

I’m calling for the car. Go down and wait. She gave me the blanket. Wait, she said. I waited. She took my phone.

Shouldn’t we call? I said.

It’s not your fault, she said. I have to protect you, she said. You’re young, she said. They’ll take you away.

I waited. I unfurled the blanket. I tucked him in. I waited. There was nobody out. A cab slid by. A man walked by; he didn’t look. I knew where the train was. I took it here. I came alone to Manhattan at night. I could go back to Queens. I couldn’t leave her. Another man walked by. He looked at me. He did not look at the body. I waited.

Ms. Newberry came down. She had a backpack. Stand right there.

What about you? I asked. I wanted to know.

I’ll be just fine, she said. Remember?

I waited. I thought about the sky. I thought about all the people. I thought about all the space. They carve it into boxes. They stack the boxes onto each other. They lay down in the boxes. They pretend to be dead. Then they are dead. For a little while. I always wanted to kill someone. But I didn’t want this. I wanted to kill someone on purpose. I daydream in class. Someone threatens her. Someone that deserves to die. I could do that.

She came back. She drove an old minivan. It stopped in the street.

I didn’t know you had a car.

We’re just getting started, you and me. The door slid open. Cold air spilled out. It was a relief. There was nothing inside. The seats were removed in the back. Can you lift it?

I could. I slid my hands under the blanket. I pulled up. He did not move. He was thin. An old pizza box slid away.

Pull him by the feet.

I pulled. His legs were moist. He flopped off the garbage cans. His head hit the sidewalk. It bounced. It made an elastic sound. His bag of cans spilled. They sounded more like bells. The blanket came off. His shirt rode up. His arms drifted back behind his head. I pulled him between two parked cars. He slid down off the curb. I put his feet into the car. I stepped up into the darkness. It smelled like old apple pie. It smelled like old clean sheets. He would not get in.

You have to get underneath him.

I can’t do it. I need help.

I’m here, she said. Get underneath him.

I got underneath him. I pushed up his head. I pushed up his shoulders. His back was scratched. The skin bled from the sidewalk. It made him slippery. I slid under him. I slid my back under his back. I pushed up on all fours. He fell in.

Good boy, she said. She passed me two handwipes. Don’t forget my blanket.

She drove. I rode. Pink clouds hid the night sky. To the right, New Jersey. A low wall of flecks of light. The river flowed. Then the tunnel, a stream of tile. The highway coiled around, through stone cliffs. And Manhattan, a high wall of lights. The river disappeared, so did the city.

We were alone. She accelerated to the next car. We watched it peel away. The road rose and fell. It hung above the swamp. New Jersey was a sea below us. A blanket of points of light.

Where are we taking him? I said.

I know him, she said. I mean, I don’t know him. He always comes around. I thought he was looking for papers. Old bills, that sort of thing. You know, identity theft. Snooping, in the middle of the night.

No, I said, just cans. Where are we going? I don’t fucking know where we’re going. It made me nervous.

To New Jersey.

We’re in New Jersey. I was nervous.

Somewhere else. Hey, she said, look at me.

I looked at her. She didn’t look at me. It calmed me.

Do you trust me? she asked.

I thought about it. I wanted to give the right answer. I do.

Why?

I tried to think about this.

Why would you trust me?

I never can explain myself. Show your work, she says in class. It’s difficult.

Listen to me. Think for yourself. People will tell you things. They’ll tell you something is wrong. Those people are judging you. We have something special. It’s special because you’re special. You’re something special to me.

I trust you, I said.

You fucked up. I don’t blame you. It’s something you did. Don’t feel bad. I won’t let it ruin anything. I’ll fix it. We’ll get rid of this thing.

They talk about her at school. I hear them. It’s wrong. In some ways, they’re right. But they don’t really know anything. She reached her hand over to me. It searched in the dark. She didn’t touch me there. She pulled something out of her bag. It was silver. She lifted it to her face. She sighed. The vapor filled the minivan. It swirled around me.

We need shovels, I said. Or something. To dig the hole.

Who said anything about a fucking hole? she yelled. She never yelled. She yells at the other boys. She yells at the girls. She never yells at me.

It was quiet. There was a noise. A phone rang.

I thought I told you.

It wasn’t mine. It came from the dark behind us.

Well, fuck, she said. Get that.

I crept back. The car trembled. It swayed. I couldn’t see. I followed the sound.

I answered. Hello?

There was a long silence. May I speak to Angel?

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell her. She should know. Someone should know.

Ms. Newberry took the phone. The window went down. The hot air came in. The phone went out. The vapor blew away.

Are you stupid? They can track you. You want that?

I was surprised he had a phone. It was not surprising. I was surprised somebody would call. Everybody has somebody. Even I had somebody.

Search him. Get everything.

I looked. I felt. I found a wallet. He had a protein bar. He had keys.

Don’t touch anything, she said. Any money?

There was. She kept it. The wallet went out, and more vapor.

It was darker now. The sea of lights was behind us. There was no light. A few stars flickered. I forgot stars could be real things. In the car, the air was cool. It was so simple. It felt wrong to enjoy it. She had packed a brown paper bag. There was soda and sandwiches and bananas. We ate in the cold air. The road shrank. We left the parkway. We slipped through an unlit town. We left the main road. I couldn’t see anything. I saw trees. They must have been pines. There were no cars for a while. There were no other places.

Here, she said. The tires ground on small stones. The car tipped slightly, then steadied. Weeds brushed against it. She killed the engine. The interior light came on. Insects dove into the glass. Animals hollered from the woods. The heat invaded. I could see her face now. It was beautiful. I know why women are beautiful. She reached a hand over to me. It lay on my leg.

Are you frightened? she asked. She worked her hand into my shorts. Tell me you’re frightened. She moved her hand so slowly. She wasn’t looking. I thought she had forgotten. Tell me how you’re feeling.

Good, I said. It felt good. I pressed the buttons on the seat. The seatback went up, then back down. I reached a hand to her. It lay on her leg. She held it there. Take off your shirt, I said. She stopped. She took her hand away. The interior light faded. I thought I had made a mistake. But then her mouth was on me. I put my hand between her legs. I put my hand on her hair. This was it, I thought. Nothing better would happen to me. School would open in a few hours. There were a few more weeks. I thought of her at the board. I would see her in third period. She would be standing at the board. She would reach up to write equations. She stretches her arm up. Her whole body tenses. One foot leaves the ground. The other boys watch her. The equations would be difficult. They would all need help. She would lean over each of them. They would watch her from behind. I watched her. They could smell her. I could smell her. She had a smell. It was all I could think about.

She stopped. She held me with moist hands. You need to save your energy. She reached into her bag. She pulled out something silver. A can hissed open. She took three gulps. She passed the energy drink to me. There’s more for you later. Come on.

She pressed a button. The side door opened wide. I walked around. I was still hard. It embarrassed me. The weeds licked my shins. I grabbed him by the ankles. I pulled. The body spilled out. It was harder pulling him over dirt. It was harder pulling him over sticks. There were vines, leaves, rocks and pinecones. I stopped. We were several feet from the car. How far in should we go?

Farther, she said. Somewhere no one will ever find him.

I wasn’t hard anymore. I ate the protein bar. I pulled. It was downhill. That was easier. Then it was uphill. Something scuttled away. Something buzzed. Something flew. Small things bit me. Bats and birds and frogs lived there. How far? I said. She didn’t answer. Are you there? I couldn’t hear her footsteps. I only heard the dragging. Where’s the car? I stopped.

Nothing happened. Far away, a yellow light flashed twice. The car beeped. There, she said. There’s the car. She wasn’t close. She was with me. You can still see the road. Keep going.

I couldn’t see the road. I walked backwards over the earth. Low branches lashed my head and back. My heels caught on rocks. My feet slipped on pinecones. I hit a tree, walking backwards. I pulled him around it. I could not let go. I could not reach out my hand. I would lose him. I walked backwards, but leaned forwards. My arms extended down. The weight of him was impossible. I could not continue. I kept going. I could smell the pine sap. Everything smelled clean. I could smell banana pudding. Maybe it was cotton candy. That’s how I knew she was there.

I stepped back with my left foot. I heaved back with my body. I took his body with me. Then I stepped back with my right foot. I heaved again. I stepped back. My calf hit something low, something large. I kicked it. It was hard and spongy. It was too large to walk around. Do you have your phone? I spoke to the darkness. Turn on the flashlight.

Her face lit up over the phone. It hung in the darkness. She looked tired, unhappy. I wished things were different. The flashlight erupted, harsh and bright. The light landed on his face. His shirt was gone. His shoes and socks were lost. His pants bunched at the seat. His skin was scratched and bleeding. He was dirty all over. His mouth was open. A leaf nestled inside. I was happy his eyes were closed.

Quick, before you kill my battery, too.

A tree fell a long time ago. It blocked us now. The bark had fallen in strips. The wood crumbled. Rows of brittle mushrooms lined the trunk. They looked like seashells. I sat down. Rest, she said. It’s almost over. I know it’s hard, she told me. But now we have another secret. A shared experience. Something that holds us together.

She is the only one. I tell her about my family. She often asks. She used to. She asks about my friends. She looks out for me. There are people I should avoid. Some people are no good. There are things she warned me about. Drugs, alcohol. She told me not to buy them. She buys them for me. I never had a lot of money. There are things she bought me. Some things I keep at her apartment. It’s like freedom, she says. I can have what I wanted. She was shy, at first. She didn’t want to talk to me. I was shy, too. She came around. I would see her around. It would surprise me, seeing her around. I couldn’t imagine her outside the school. It means it was supposed to happen. She sat by me.

I thought for a second, I said. It sounds weird. I thought you were gone. You left me.

I would never do that, she said. I couldn’t. I’d miss you too much. It sounded like a real thing. All that’s left is getting over this. She smacked the log twice. It’s far enough. We’ll cover him in leaves. No one will ever see. No one will know.

One day you will though, I said. I didn’t think it. It occurred to me afterwards. I mean, I know I’m young.

I like that. Don’t feel ashamed of yourself.

No, I want to say something else. It wasn’t me. I couldn’t describe it. I don’t have what you need.

You certainly do. It sounded silly. She knew. She changed. What are you talking about? I’ve got everything I need. I hate that shit.

The nights were short. A flash of green over the hill. A layer of orange at the edge. I could see some shapes. The updown of the trees. It wasn’t so hot anymore. Something had broken.

Hey, she said. Why so serious? You want to shoot something? Then we’ll go. We can get pancakes in Weehawken. Just, you know, heave-ho first.

It seemed impossible. Even standing hurt. I pulled his legs over. I cursed. I pulled one arm over. Why did it matter? I picked up his head. I let go. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to roll him over. It hurt too much. I was exhausted. My arms hurt. My legs burned. My back was stiff. He was all loose. He embraced the tree loosely. He was sleeping. Who cared where he was? There was nothing special here. This side of the tree. That side of the tree. He was alone. Let him get cold where he was.

Can you just, I said. Can we just. Can we leave it here?

Sure, love. She took the gun out. Forget it. I thought you could do it. She slid in the clip. She wiped my hands. She wiped the gun. The hilltop was not far. She found a target. A little lemony fruit near the ground. We could make out the yellow now. The plants looked like small green umbrellas.

Ok. Both hands. Remember. Feet apart. Wider. Don’t lean back like that. You’ll miss. Lean forward a little.

The bullet went somewhere. The shot pushed me back. The sound cracked the air. Birds flew. I hadn’t seen them. It wasn’t as exciting anymore.

She took it from me and fired. She shot it again and again. It could have been a dozen rounds. She didn’t move. I don’t know what she aimed at. I don’t know what she hit. I looked away. I looked north, towards home. There was a house. There were two or three. I could see them now. They weren’t far.

She passed it back to me. Here, she said, try again.

Leaves rustled. An animal coughed. I thought I heard it. A man’s voice said, Jesus, very low. I didn’t hear it. The body rolled away from the log. The body lay on its back. It considered the sky.

He vomited. He retched. He tried to stand. He stumbled and fell. He seemed confused. He didn’t seem surprised. Jesus, oh God, Christ. All this way you have led me. He coughed. To destroy me again. He spat in the dirt. Build with me and do with me. He was crying. As I go out from here. I could see the tears. It is by dying.

What? I said. What?  I looked for Ms. Newberry. She was vaping. Are you fucking kidding, I yelled. Are you?

He tried to sit on the log. He fell to the side. His body rolled forward over itself. He kneeled. His fingers grasped at the crumbling wood. He could not pull himself up. Are these extravagant promises? His eyes closed. His eyes opened. He seemed to see me then. Grief itself. Hardly more pitiable than joy.

We watched. I had the gun. I brought it up towards him. I didn’t understand. I waved it at him. He didn’t understand.

No, no, hey, Ms. Newberry said. Always in a safe direction. Never at people. Remember?

Take it easy, kid, the body said. Listen to your mom. His voice was professional. It was soft, a dead man’s voice. He was a cartoon character. He was a Halloween costume.

I pointed. I shot. The gun swung back in my hand. The barrel slapped me in the nose. I was gone for a second. It was all noise in my head. He rolled backwards off the log. He disappeared. I hit him. He died. His face came up over the log. His eyes peered over.

She ran to him. Are you OK? she said.

I didn’t like that. I still had the gun. Fuck. What the fuck?

I’m sorry, the body said. I can explain.

She held out a hand. He took it. Are you hit?

The question confused him. He was steadier now. He was watching me. I don’t know you, he said. We can work it out. I did not intend to hurt you. I am willing to make restitution.

What the fuck does that mean?

Pay it back, Ms. Newberry said. Make it up to us. He leaned on her. His hand lay on her shoulder. She held him. He was not watching me. He was watching the gun. He coughed. She gave him an energy drink. He had trouble drinking. It dribbled down his chest. His breath hissed like a radiator pole. It was a threatening sound.

Please, he said. I won’t hurt you. He stood by himself now.

She stood next to me. She took the gun. Calm down. It went back in her purse. He watched it go.

He walked slowly. Is this my shoe? He found both. He left the socks. Which park is this? He was downhill from us. We could see the road. He turned to face us. You know, he said. It’s been a long time. Well, it hasn’t been that long.

I did not answer. She did not answer. I felt her beside me. I could feel the heat of her. We were not touching. She was more distant now. His eyes were open. They looked from her to me. They looked past us. He opened his mouth. He made a noise. Then he said, I feel awful. I’m getting a migraine.

He ran. He couldn’t run. He hobbled. It was more of a skip. He hopped slowly down the hill. I should be happy, I thought. He wasn’t dead. I wasn’t happy. He reached the minivan. He paused there, leaning on the hood. She did not move. He began running towards the house. She was watching him run. She let it happen. It would have to be me.

I reached for her bag. The latch was confusing. She tugged it back. I pulled again. She let it go this time. I opened it. Her leg extended behind both my legs. Her elbow sank into my belly. I dropped. The air puffed out of me. I couldn’t make a sound. She was on top of me. She looked clean. Her fist dropped onto my face. It hit where the gun had hit. Don’t fuck with me, she said. I crossed my arms above my face. I rolled away. She was up. It was hard to open my eyes. There was real sunlight now. I stood. She had her bag. She hit me with an open palm. Get in the car.

The man was not much farther away. He limped. I could hear him grunting. He hadn’t seen. We pulled up beside him. The door gaped open. Get in, she called over me. I can drop you somewhere.

I don’t need any help. He stopped. We stopped. He tried to walk faster. She matched his pace.

Look, she said, he didn’t mean anything. Apologize, she said to me.

The man dragged his feet over the earth. Every motion seemed difficult. I didn’t think it was my fault. He didn’t know, but he was lucky. I wasn’t worried about him now. He was fine. I was worried about myself. He was alive. That’s what frightened me.

It was an accident, I said. I didn’t want to hurt you.

You’ve done enough, he said. Thank you. I may have lain there forever. The noise woke me.

She passed a water bottle to me. I passed it to him. He took it. He had to approach the car. He hated me. I could see that. He poured it on his face. He doused his left arm and winced. She passed another. He drank and poured more. I could hear seagulls.

Come on, she said. Let us help you.

He did get in. He laid down on the floor. He began to breathe slowly. I watched him. She drove. He inhaled loudly. Time passed. Then he exhaled loudly. Each breath took him a long time. He sucked it in. He forced it out. He was getting ready to do something. He said, I have a child, too. Also a boy. He’s your age. He’s older than you. I haven’t seen him for some time. He looked at his hands. His fingers wiggled. Well, it must be many years. I ran into some trouble. It won’t surprise you. There were nights. There were days even. I’d wake up somewhere. I wouldn’t know what happened. I felt worse than this. If you can believe it.

Roadways merged. There were cars now. Each held a single person behind glass. Each person held their own thoughts. Ms. Newberry watched the road. I watched him. He would do something. He would not tell us.

That was before, he continued. You think you’ll get yourself together. You wait for it. You’ll get around to it. Everyone moves on in the meantime. I can’t blame them now. I did then. I’m in a better place now. I drink a lot of juice. I make it at home. I do cleanses. I fast. Have you heard of intermittent fasting? I swear by it. He straightened his legs. He bent forward and reached his toes. He raised his arms out. They made small circles in the air. You get older, kid. You see your possibilities dwindle. You were making choices. They never felt like choices. You pick one out of the sea. You leave the others. There are so many options. Who can exhaust the sea? Each one is a tragedy. There’s beauty, too. But you always pick wrong. But I feel sorry about it. You do your best. I can see you do your best.

She opened her purse. Let me give you some money.

You’ve done enough. Don’t worry about me. I’m resourceful.

She gave him his money back. He didn’t look at it. He took it so easily. He recognized it, I think. She passed him more. He kept it with the rest. I understand what you’re doing, he said. I accept your kindness. It’s important to set an example. Children these days don’t get much. 

Take off your shirt¸ she said. He had no shirt. She was speaking to me. Give it to him. I remembered my face. I did it. I felt exposed. He put it on. He resented me for it.

You’ll be all right, son. Listen to your mom. She knows what she’s doing.

I laughed at that. It wasn’t funny. It was funny to think about. I hadn’t thought about it. I looked at her. She was not laughing.

Don’t laugh, he said. It’s true. Is it just you two?

It’s not your business, she said.

Forgive me. You’re right. I apologize. He rolled onto his stomach. He took another loud breath. He bent backwards, pushing with two hands. He leaned his head back and exhaled. They call this the cobra. What’s your name, son?

I laughed again. I’m not telling you that.

No? He touched the back of his head. He looked at Ms. Newberry. He watched the back of her head. Her bag lay on the armrest. His eyes rested there. The flap was open. The gun was inside. I saw him look. Now just a second, he said. He moved quickly. He sat up, reaching out an arm. But my hand was already there.

She’s not my fucking mother, I said. It was important to me. She wasn’t that. I did want to kill him now.

That’s okay, he said. I believe you. He reached his arms up.

I believed I could hit him. He was close. There was no other way.

Are you fucking stupid? she said. She couldn’t look at me. Cars were merging. It could have been perfect.

Will you folks let me out? Ma’am? Can you stop the car?

What will you do? she asked.

I just need to make one call. That’s all.

Who? I said. I waved it in his face. Who the fuck are you calling? I don’t think he understood. You don’t have anything to tell them.

No wonder they don’t miss you. I didn’t know what she meant. It took me a moment. No wonder no one notices.

I looked at her. I don’t want to say it hurt. It made me feel unimportant. They both thought that. They both wished I wasn’t there. That is when he did it. He grabbed my arm. I tried to shoot. He was pulling my fingers. I tried to pull my hand away. He held it. He pushed it up. We were close. We were up against each other. I felt how warm he was there. I didn’t like it. I moved away. He pushed the gun toward me. Then he pulled it quickly away. It was in his hand.

Now, he said. Now, stop the car.

She did not seem impressed. I do need some gas, she said. The car moved into the left lane. We saw the blue signs. We saw the gas prices far ahead.

That’ll do, he said. He displayed the gun to us. He held it wrong. He had no idea. I don’t know what you are doing. The two of you. It doesn’t strike me as particularly correct.

We coasted off the parkway. We coasted to the Sunoco station. She pulled in to the pump. She parked behind a dually. She killed the engine. He pulled the side door handle. It did not open. She spoke to the attendant. Her voice was calm. It was like nothing had happened. It was like nothing ever happened.

I faced the man. He glared at me. We were silent. Underneath his glare, he looked confused. Maybe he smiled a little. He thought the whole thing was funny. The nozzle clunked going into the side. It sounded like a toilet tank filling. The hole in the gun looked insignificant. I didn’t think I would die. I didn’t think I would ever die. I still sometimes wonder.

There’s no bullets, she said. She counted to fifteen. She pressed a button. The side door slid open. He jumped out. He threw the gun at me. It hit my chest. I thought it would go off. It bounced quietly. The dually started in front of us. We could feel the engine. It left the pump. It accelerated towards the exit. A cigarette flew out the passenger window. He ran after it. It stopped at the sign. He ran towards it. It drove away.

Our engine started. The door was closing. I thought it would crush me. It pressed me and opened again. I jumped out. The minivan moved backwards as I jumped. I landed on my knees. She was behind me now. I stood. I could see her coming towards me. She didn’t care. I could see her face. I ached all over. The minivan came at me. Somebody was yelling. She veered right. She missed me. The pump was still in the car. The hose stretched as she accelerated. I ran. Something snapped. I heard the metal bending behind me. I heard the pump lifting. She kept driving. I could smell the gasoline. The wheels spun. The tires smoked. The minivan stopped. She was sitting right there. She sits at her desk at school. It is quiet. Like we are taking a quiz. Except they were yelling at her. They were running to her. She looked at me. She looks up, to catch people cheating. I stopped running. I touched the car. It looked quite worn in the daylight. I pulled the nozzle out. It flopped on the ground. She drove.

You could look and look away. You would never see how things change. The grass bending with the light. The clouds floating in from the ocean. The asphalt cracking under the sun. A lit cigarette rolling in the wind. It was like we were racing. He was running towards the rest area. I ran after him. She drove towards the ramp. She was beside me. The space between us widened. She never stopped. I could see the minivan. It got farther away. There was some damage there. The pump had pulled off a piece. It dragged on the roadway. Sparks flew from under it. Eventually it fell away. The minivan got smaller. It dissolved into the morning commute.

He was getting away. He was in the parking lot now. Drivers stood by their cars and yawned. He could not run. I could not run. I tried to walk faster. I could overtake him. He had some money. It occurred to me that nothing mattered. Nothing I did mattered. I would not see her again. Or maybe I would. I would never go back. I might go back. She might be there. She would never tell. There was nothing to tell. He was walking around.

He knew I was behind him. He tripped at the doorway. I stumbled by the trash cans. We walked by Starbucks. We walked by Sbarro. We walked by Burger King. There were seats bolted to the floor. The floor was freshly mopped. He went into the Travel Mart. He fingered some trail mix. Can I buy you a shirt? He passed it to me. New Jersey, the shirt said. Don’t worry, we hate you too.