It was getting close to dinner time, and I had already decided that, if the train didn’t stop the next time we passed the Collection Center platform, I’d exit at my house and just tell my mother I took so long after school because I had misplaced my console. But when we rounded the curve, several men on the train stood as if ready to leave, and I rose as well, heart hammering with anticipation…and fear. Would I be detained if I tried to exit here? No one would believe me if I claimed I had made a mistake.
By the time the train slowed to a stop, I had a story in mind. I clutched my console in both hands, and would tell anyone who asked that it was my father’s. He’d left it behind when he left for work at the Collection Center, and I wanted to bring it to him so he could play his little num
