By the time I got to the car door, the kid was already crawling over the seats to get behind the wheel. As I swung the door open, the kid wet himself, scrambling to move away. When he finally saw me, I was already in the car. He stared at me with this big-eyed look, and me at him. Neither of us moved. The only sound was Mom’s screaming, from inside the house. That moment seemed to go on forever. Then Mom suddenly stopped screaming. We both blinked. The kid started to tear up, and slowly reached out his hand, dangling the keys for me. I grabbed them, cranked the ignition, and tore out of there. We just headed in the direction the Honda was pointing. Neither of us said a word for a good fifteen minutes. We just breathed.