Nobody's Fool

him. Her expression bespoke considerable irritation, as if one look at Sully had reminded her of half a dozen unpleasant things she’d forgotten about him. Without knowing exactly why, Sully felt a sudden urge to flee, as if the woman hailed from some amnesiac past and had returned bent on slapping him with a patrimony suit.
    â€œHi, dolly,” he said when he was close enough to be heard, having decided to brazen it out. In his sixty years he’d forgotten enough people to know that the best way to handle such situations was to pretend you knew who they were until they gave you a clue. Whoever this unpleasant-looking young woman was, he’d remember eventually. All his adult life he’d called young women “dolly,” so if this one knew him, she wouldn’t be surprised. When he got alongside the car, he saw there were three children crowded into the cramped backseat among pillows and stuffed animals, slightly older versions of children he knew from somewhere. The young woman got out and pulled one of the bucket seats forward so Sully could crawl in back, and as he leaned forward and caught a glimpse of the driver it dawned on him who the hell these people were.
    â€œShove over, you runts,” he said, making a face at the children. “Make room for Grandpa.”
    â€œGive me Andy,” said Charlotte, his son’s wife. “That way you’ll have a
little
room anyway,” she let her voice trail off.
    Sully would have liked to give her Andy, but he was momentarily confused. He was half in the Gremlin’s backseat and half out of it, and pretty sure which of his grandsons was Andy but unable to commit fully. He was almost positive Andy was the baby, but if he was, then Charlotte’s request made no sense. The child was strapped into a car seat, and even if Sully were able to unbuckle him—and this looked doubtful, given the contraption’s complexity—the only result would have been an empty car seat, not more room for an adult.
    â€œUnstrap your brother, Will,” said Peter, Sully’s son. “Don’t just sit there like this is TV.”
    The oldest boy, who looked amazingly like his father at the same age, did as he was told, but he wore a brooding expression, as if he’d been asked to bear too much responsibility. If the oldest was Will and the youngest was Andy, that left only the middle boy, who was staring at Sully in unselfconscious bewilderment, a bubble of snot at one nostril pulsing to the beat of his respiration. Sully conceded that, to the boy, he must look strange, caked with mud.
    When Andy was passed into the front, Charlotte turned her weary attention to the middle boy. “Get in your brother’s seat, Wacker. You expect Grandpa to sit in it?”
    â€œThat’s a
baby
seat,” the boy frowned.
    â€œI’ll sit in it,” the oldest boy sighed, unhooking his seat belt.
    This put the middle boy into motion. “Mom said me! Mom said me!” he cried and let his big brother have one as Will attempted to climb into the seat he clearly would not fit into. The smaller boy’s fist caught the larger boy right on the bridge of the nose, and for a second Will’s eyes welled up, allowing his little brother to scramble into the baby’s car seat, from which he grinned malevolently at his injured brother. To Sully’s surprise, the older boy made no move to retaliate.
    Now that there was a free crevice, Sully let himself slide into it, gingerly maneuvering his leg into the restricted space, bending it slowly at the knee. What was Wacker’s real name? he wondered. Something that sounded like Wacker, maybe. He searched his memory for a boy’s name that sounded like Wacker.
    â€œWacker punched me again,” Will said to no one in particular. He was inspecting his nose for blood, seemingly disappointed there was none. Had there been blood, somebody might have believed him. Wacker showed his big brother a small, bony fist, and his eyes narrowed, as if to imply that a second assault might just provide the evidence.
    â€œPunch him back,” Sully’s son suggested, pulling the Gremlin back onto the road. He had not turned around in the seat or offered to shake hands or given any sign that he was happy to see Sully. But then that’s the way it had been between them since Peter had gone off to college—what? fifteen? twenty years ago? Probably Peter considered such treatment