Victor continued.
“We rode through southern New Mexico one summer.”
“Truck crossed the center line.”
“Hit three of us.”
Noah stopped breathing.
“Dad?”
“He was behind.”
“Got clear.”
Victor’s voice lowered.
“I didn't.”
“The bike trapped my leg.”
“Gasoline everywhere.”
“Everybody screaming.”
“Your father went back.”
“Pulled me out.”
Noah stared.
Victor touched his scar.
“Got this that night.”
Lily whispered:
“Did Dad get hurt?”
“Burned his arm.”
Noah remembered.
His father had a pale scar along his left forearm.
He always said:
“Exhaust pipe.”
Victor smiled faintly.
“He lied.”
Noah almost smiled too.
“Why?”
“Your father didn't like being thanked.”
That also sounded exactly right.
Noah looked at the patch.
“Why Raven?”
Sam answered:
“Never slept.”
Victor added:
“And he wore black constantly.”
Noah laughed once.
“Still did.”
Victor’s face softened.
“He stayed with us five years.”
“Then?”
“Your mother.”
Noah looked up.
Victor smiled.
“He met her at a county fair.”
“Disappeared for three days.”
“Came back and said he was done.”
Sam laughed.
“No discussion.”
Victor continued.
“He turned in his vest.”
“Kept the patch.”
“Moved to Arizona.”
“Started the garage.”
Noah nodded.
“Carter Auto.”
Victor looked toward him.
“You remember?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to it?”
“Dad sold it after Mom got sick.”
Victor absorbed that.
Noah stared at the plate.
“She had cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She got better for a while.”
Then:
“She didn’t.”
Victor looked away.
Sam cleared his throat.
Noah asked:
“Did Dad ever call you?”
Victor shook his head.
“Not after he left.”
“Were you mad?”
“For a long time.”
“Why?”
“Because young men are stupid.”
Noah waited.
Victor rubbed the old scar.
“I thought leaving us meant rejecting us.”
“Took me years to understand he was choosing you.”
Noah looked toward Lily.
Victor continued.
“That was the right choice.”
Noah’s eyes filled suddenly.
He looked down quickly.
Victor pretended not to notice.
“Noah.”
The boy wiped his face.
“I’m fine.”
“Didn't ask.”
Noah sniffed.
“If Dad knew you…”
Victor waited.
“Can you find him?”
There it was.
Not food.
Not shelter.
Not money.
The real reason Noah had allowed the conversation to continue.
Hope.
Victor had lived long enough to fear hope more than bad news.
He chose his words carefully.
“I can try.”
Noah looked up.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You know people?”
Sam laughed softly.