We checked into the same Marriott as the one I’d bunked in on that unremarkable business trip all those years ago. Erica paid for her own room while Joey and I split one, although I barely saw him. When we passed by the tiny gym off the lobby on our way to the elevators, Joey spotted a twenty-something blonde wearing a pink sports bra and black yoga pants running on the treadmill.
“Can you take my bag up to the room, Rick?” he said. “Think I’m gonna get in a quick workout before bed.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, taking his backpack, “I hear that’s great for jet lag. Just don’t plan on working out in our room, okay? I’m exhausted.”
Joey smiled. “If all goes well, we won’t even have to leave the gym.”
“You’re such a classy guy, Joe.”
When I woke up the next morning, Joey was crashed on top of his bed sheets, fully clothed. He grunted when I slapped his foot to wake him up, then wiped his eyes. I asked how he made out with Sports Bra, but he just said, “A gentleman never tells.”
“Well since that term has never applied to you, why don’t you fill me in?”
“Let’s just say you should avoid the lat pulldown machine until the cleaning crew comes by.”
“You’re like a walking Penthouse Forum letter, you know that?”
“Nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, pal.”
The complimentary breakfast featured the same pancakes as my first trip, but the eggs were better this time. By ten, we’d checked out and I was behind the wheel of our rented Ford Fusion.
“This guy works on a Saturday?” Joey asked from the backseat as I drove.
“He did nine years ago,” I said. “I’m hoping his work-life balance hasn’t changed since then.”
“And this is our best option, some guy you haven’t spoken with in a decade who may or may not still be in the game?”
“We could always stop at Walmart,” I said sarcastically. “Fill out a few forms, wait a week or so. I’m sure Ghost and The Persian wouldn’t mind taking a time-out until we’re ready. They could see the sights. Maybe go visit Amish country or explore Crystal Cave.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Joey said.
“I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got, Joe,” I said with less edge.
“How long until we get there?”
“Couple hours, give or take.”
Outside, the world was a dull palette of bare brown trees against a gray, overcast sky. The hills in the distance were still green with pine cover, but they were obscured by an early morning fog that hadn’t yet lifted. Rolling farmland and patches of forest interrupted by the occasional housing development unfurled around us.
“It’s so open,” Erica said. “Not what I expected America to look like at all.”
If Scranton is the kind of old town that makes you feel welcome, then Chester is the kind of old town that kicks you in the nuts and spits on you while stealing your wallet. Both are blue-collar—Scranton still has a working coal mine, for Christ’s sake—but the blue-collars in Chester all get drunk after work and go looking for somebody to beat up.
While I was forging my new career overseas, they built a stadium for the Union—Philadelphia’s MLS soccer team—with the hopes of developing the surrounding area into a thriving business district that people wouldn’t be afraid to venture into after dark.
It didn’t work. Based on what I saw as I drove past, the streets around the empty stadium were as littered with broken glass and torn garbage bags as every other avenue we’d traversed since entering the city limits.
“Okay, this is what I expected America to look like,” Erica said as we rounded a corner and saw a homeless man urinating on the burned out husk of what used to be a slightly less-shitty car.
“Reminds me of home,” Joey said, with a trace of genuine nostalgia in his voice.
“Where is home?” Erica asked.
“Benton Harbor, Michigan.”
“Rick?” she said.
“Yes?”
“Do not ever take us to Benton Harbor, Michigan.”
“Wonder if my dog’s still alive,” Joey said, almost to himself. Erica and I exchanged a glance in the rearview mirror.
“Your dog?” I asked.
He snapped his head around, as if surprised he’d spoken the words aloud. “Yeah,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “She was seven when I left home, but still acted like a puppy, you know? I miss that dog. Probably long gone. She’d be damn near twenty now.”
“Can’t you ask your parents?” Erica said.
“We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”
We let that sit for a moment before I said, “What was her name, the dog?”
“Tinkerbell.”
