Vigo hardly touched his food. He seemed to shrink as the night wore on, his shoulders slumping, foot tapping fast and hard enough under the table to shake the water glasses.
It was like watching the life drain out of him in real time, and I was relieved when the emcee gave a long-winded introduction to Vigo’s dad before handing him a fancy-looking piece of paper contained in a brown leather folder.
Dr. Graham Keaton (apparently both Vigo’s parents had PhDs) gave a nice speech about the importance of “introducing the next generation to the power of economic foresight and ingenuity” and we stood with the rest of the audience, clapping as he returned to his seat.
The emcee returned the mic to tell us to enjoy the rest of the evening, and the music started up as servers started placing creme brûlée in front of us.
Vigo’s parents, engaged in deep conversation with an older man seated next to Elise behind the dais, hardly seemed to know Vigo was there, and I wasn’t surprised when Vigo, still tapping his foot, leaned over and asked if I was ready to go.
“You don’t want to stay?” I asked. “Your parents?— ”
“Won’t even know I’m gone until the cleanup crew comes in,” he said. “They’re in their element. I showed up. We can go.”
“If you’re sure…” It felt rude, but it was Vigo’s decision and I could tell he’d had enough, like a kid who’d been forced to sit through a church service and couldn’t wait to go play in the mud.
He grabbed my hand and stood. “Nice to meet you all,” he said to the other diners at our table. “Have a great night.”
He was practically vibrating as we made our way out of the banquet room, and he didn’t say a word as he led me out of the hotel.
We spilled out onto the street and he exhaled loudly, like he’d been holding his breath for the past two hours, then grabbed my hand. “Let’s walk.”
It was almost eleven at night, but the city was still busy and vibrant around us. Cars moved past, their brake lights shining red, while pedestrians walked purposefully toward or away from something.
“Your feet okay?” Vigo asked.
I looked down. “My feet?”
“Because of the heels,” he said.
“Oh… yeah. I’m okay.” I’d gone straight from the car into the hotel and had spent the last nearly three hours sitting.
“If you’re sure.” This was the Vigo I’d come to know: animated and alert, looking for fun or trouble. “I’m fuckinghungry.”
My stomach rumbled.“Actually, I’m starving too.”
“Right?!” The shine was back in his eyes. “That foodsucked.Come on. We need hot dogs.”
I looked around, taking in the city as he led me by the hand. The city wasn’t really my thing, but I understood the appeal. It was so vibrant, soalive, and I wondered suddenly why Vigo didn’t live in a place like this, a place where he could get into all kinds of trouble and hardly be noticed.
“You never wanted to live in the city?” I asked.
We were stopped at an intersection, waiting for the traffic to clear so we could cross the street.
“Fuck no,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the excitement and shit. But it’s like a concrete prison. Too many people, all of them trapped in boxes. Plus, Hawk would die here.”
“He doesn’t like the city?” One thing I knew for sure after almost three months with the Hawks was that they were a package deal.
“He can’t be himself here,” Vigo said.
I wondered what that meant as we crossed the intersection and started down the next block. I was still getting to know all the Hawks — sometimes I thought it would take me a lifetime to really know them, a dangerous thought if there ever was one — but Hawk was the biggest mystery of all.
I still didn’t know his real name. Still didn’t know where he went or what he did when he left the house alone for hours at a time.
We came to a brightly-lit storefront and Vigo led me inside. The smell of greasy cooked meat hit my nose and my stomach rumbled again as we stood behind a crowd of other people waiting to place their orders.
When we reached the counter Vigo ordered five hotdogs with everything plus a large Coke.
We stepped to the side and Vigo grabbed a stack of napkins and two straws. Our number was called a couple minutes later and I carried the Coke while Vigo carried the tray of hot dogs to a spot at a counter attached to the front window.
