“Here come the seagulls.” I looked outside and saw a whole flock of kids coming towards my truck. “They always come in droves.”

The first one started. “Water.”

“No water. Scram,” my driver replied.

“Water, mista.” My driver tossed a warm half-full bottle. “Now leave.”

“Gimmie a dollar.”

“What? No way,”

“You rich. Gimmie two dollar.”

“No way, I have an ex-wife. Tell you what. Where do you live?” Fingers pointed to town. “If you run home and get back first, I’ll give you a dollar.” They left in a blur.

We started the truck and pulled on the road.

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