'Unless he crashes in the Atlantic,' Bogus said. Biggie groaned. 'All right,' she said. 'I'll drive to Portland and meet him, so you won't have to drive all the way to Georgetown.'
A-ha! thought Trumper. What is there in Georgetown that I shouldn't see? 'Why can't I come to Georgetown?' he asked.
'God,' said Biggie. 'You certainly can, if you want to. I didn't think you'd want to. I just thought, since I was going to drive to Portland, anyway, to meet the plane ...'
'Well, have it your way.'
'No, have it yours,' said Biggie. 'Have you had a nice time?'
He did it Biggie's way. He borrowed Kent's awful car and drove to the Portland Airport. Tulpen packed them a lunch and bought a lovely little fishbowl for the fish Colm selected, a big purple fantail. Colm couldn't see that Tulpen was crying over his shoulder when she hugged him goodbye, and she snarled at Trumper on the sidewalk when he tried to hug her.
Before they were even out of New York State, Colm found a joint-roller in Kent's filthy glove compartment and four old marijuana cigarettes. In a panic about being busted - in front of his boy! - Bogus asked Colm to empty the contents of the glove compartment into a litter bag, and the first moment they were alone on the road, Trumper threw the whole mess out of the window.
Somewhere in Massachusetts Bogus realized that he'd thrown out all the registration papers for the car, and probably Kent's driver's license as well; all of the pot apparatus would be found with Kent's name and address. He decided to tell Kent that the glove compartment had been robbed.
Trumper relaxed driving through New Hampshire. He took the longer shore road along the Maine coast to stretch out his last moments with Colm. He had some thoughts about Biggie, and about Couth, and about what Biggie might have told Colm about his father, or even about his father's girl. But they were not dark thoughts; they were sometimes sad thoughts, but they were kind. Biggie was not poisonous.
'Do you like Maine?' he asked Colm.
'Oh, sure.'
'Even in the winter?' asked Trumper. 'What can you do near the ocean in the wintertime?'
'Walk on the beach in the snow,' said Colm. 'And watch the storms. But we're going to put the boat back in the water when I get home ...'
'Oh?' said Trumper. 'You and Mommy?' He was asking for it, he was leading purposefully.
'No,' said Colm. 'Me and Couth. It's Couth's boat.'
'You like Couth, don't you?'
'I sure do.'
'Did you have a nice time in New York?' Trumper begged.
'I sure did.'
'I like Couth and Mommy, too,' said Bogus.
'So do I,' Colm said. 'And I like you,' he said, 'and ... what's the girl's name?'
'Tulpen.'
'Yup, Tulpen. I like her,' said Colm, 'and you, and Mommy and Couth.'
Well, that wraps it up, Trumper thought. He didn't know what he felt.
'Do you know Daniel Arbuthnot?' Colm asked.
'No, I don't.'
'Well, I don't like him so much.'
'Who is he?'
'He's a kid in my school,' Colm said. 'He's just a stupid kid.'
At the Portland Airport, Biggie asked Trumper if he wanted to come to Georgetown; it was only another hour's drive and he could stay the night; Couth would like to see him. But Trumper felt that Biggie would really rather he didn't come, and he would rather not either.