Tina on the Beach
By Terence Poltrack The fans didn’t work, and it was already hot at 6:00 a.m. as the boys sat slumped in the no. 11 bus. CD dozed against Denny’s shoulder, occasionally jerking awake, only to repeat the cycle. Denny killed time watching the streaming images from his window of shops and gas stations and neighborhoods, choosing which house he’d most like to live in, sometimes examining his own face or secretly spying on other passengers. Only a few others rode with them, mostly Key & Lock night laborers just off their shifts. They looked worn out. Denny couldn’t sit still. He and CD had attracted attention when they first boarded. Denny blond, pale, thin, 12 years old, CD just slightly shorter, darker though, and all of 7. Two boys on their own, wearing mismatched clothing, carrying brown paper bags, towels over their shoulders. Even the most passive passengers eyed them. The driver hesitated. “ Hey, now, where’s your Aunt Janie? Does she know where you’re a