Quiet now, the baby, a nice enough little thing, cute too, as brown babies went, at least in the dark, and he hadn’t even screamed when the stranger had picked him up out of his crib – until Cal had put his hand over his little mouth, and then he’d tried to make plenty of noise, for sure, but no one had heard – not even the dog, who was sleeping the sleep of greed, which served the little shit right. And Cal didn’t know or care how much Rest-Ezee might be too much for a little dog, but the kid had settled down in the basket, and he’d read someplace that babies liked motion, that moms and dads sometimes took their yelling brats out in their cars to quieten them down, so maybe he and this kid might be lucky. The longest ride of his life had barely begun, he knew that. He’d stayed on Collins, because though it seemed endless on the tandem, and his legs were already hurting from pumping the pedals, and his back and shoulders were still sore from taking care of Tabby, it was still straighter and easier than taking back roads.
