“I think I’m gonna walk.”
“What?”
“It’s a nice day.”
“You’re going to walk to temple?” he says, another glance at the watch.
I nod and step further into the street. “Scuff the shoes.”
“Jacob?”
I stop and face him.
“I’ll meet you there,” he says.
I wave and cross the street. And then I don’t see him. I begin to walk slowly, but in seconds my steps get longer and faster until my shoes are so scuffed that I begin to run. And I mean run. But it’s funny because you don’t see people racing on foot down the road with their ties flapping over their shoulders very much. And if you did, you’d wonder, wouldn’t you? You’d wonder—where the hell is that kid going so fast? Where the hell is that kid going?