EXCERPT

Two white men sat in the Dodge Dart in the strip mall’s parking lot watching the oncoming traffic: the transport trucks and family sedans, the commuters and tourists, the station wagons and lone men in pickups with dogs hanging their heads out the window. Gaffer, behind the wheel, was the older of the two, thinner, and with less hair. He pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose and stared at the road that rose to meet the bridge, leading, almost due north, over the river to America. In the passenger seat, Raul took the second last bite of a hamburger; mustard, half a pickle slice, and chunks of raw onion dripped from what remained in his hand onto the greasy paper on his lap. A clump of relish clung to the bottom of his moustache; his lank hair hung long on either side of his thin face covering his ears completely. When he opened his mouth to push in the last piece of lunch, two sharp eye teeth showed. He closed his full lips and chewed, crumpled the empty paper, dropped it into the bag lying on the seat, and tossed it out the window onto the asphalt.

“That was stupid,” said Gaffer.

“Eating makes you sleepy.” Raul hadn’t finished chewing his food, and it showed when he talked.Gaffer’s face tightened and he jerked his glance back to the road. Raul cranked the window up, angled his body on the bench, lay his head against the glass, and closed his eyes. The air grew a little warmer.

Gaffer sat facing the line of vehicles, slowing, stopping, and lining up for customs before crossing into the United States, but his gaze was directed at the traffic coming the other direction, down the long ramp and entering into Canada. The sun passed behind a white cloud and the shadow raced along the road, onto the lot, over the parked car, and up the bridge linking Windsor to Detroit.

“You don’t make sense, Raul. You insist on coming out here when you know it’s not safe, and then you do stupid things like —”

“What’s not safe?”

“Your being here. Calling attention to us by throwing litter out the window. You’re looking for trouble.”

“There’s no law against two citizens sitting in a car watching traffic. You want me to pick it up?” Raul wasn’t watching traffic; his eyes were still closed. He scratched at the lonely patch of hair beneath his mouth. “No law against it.”