After their second full day inside, Mothbert teaches George to gamble. “You say hit when you want another card,” he tells him.

“Hit!” says George. “Hit!” Outside, the city is quiet.

“You’ve busted, George,” Dad says.

They use pennies, dimes, and nickels, and George gets pretty good. Mothbert teaches him Gin Rummy, then blackjack and Texas Hold ‘Em. When Dad’s there, he flips Mothbert’s cards. When he isn’t, George has to do it. George puts them face up behind a stack of books and tries not to look, though sometimes he can’t help it.

“Am I bleeding?” asks Mothbert.

George sits back. He loves this saying for when you’re accidentally showing your cards. He loves the sayings more than the games, little blind, river, full house, all except for the one Dad used when he pushed back from his cards and said, “I’m out. If I get in any deeper, I’ll wake up with cement shoes.”

The shoe incident happened the day schools reopened. Nothing to do with cement, but still, this is how Ms. Marcy refers to it. “The incident was not your fault,” she’ll say, or, “Do you feel ready yet to talk about the incident?”

George doesn’t see what the big deal is. His shoelace got stuck in the elevator door, and he tripped. Still, he has to go see Ms. Marcy every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. She used to forbid Mothbert from coming, but George wouldn’t talk, or if he did, he’d only say, “Beats me.” Now she lets him join. George can tell she’s not happy about it.

“How’s your week been, George?” she asks.

Mothbert points to a blue plastic brick. George attaches it to his spaceship. “Ok.”

“Any exciting weekend plans?”

Mothbert points to a wing piece. George takes it. “Beats me”

Ms. Marcy puts a hand on the table. “We talked about that phrase.”

George knows, but he doesn’t want to say the real thing.

Mothbert catches his eye. “Mom’s birthday,” he mouths.

“I have Mom’s birthday party,” George says.

Ms. Marcy looks at the space in front of George, where she knows Mothbert is sitting but cannot see him. “That’s wonderful,” she says coolly. “What will you do?”

George doesn’t want to think about it. Dad says she’s just unwell. He says to give her time. But George knows it’s worse than all that. “Beats me,” he says, heart beating quickly.

He cannot find the other wing piece. He looks at Mothbert for help, but Mothbert has crossed his arms and fixed George with a disapproving stare.

“We’re going to order food and watch a movie,” mumbles George.

Mothbert relaxes, and he points to the wing piece.

Mothbert walks George to school. Buildings rise like gravestones around them and a faded sign listing Flu-2 symptoms flutters past. Excessive drooling. Disorientation. Death. Dad comes when he can, but usually, he’s too busy. It’s just as well. He’s always so rushed in the morning he never lets George work the elevator mechanism. Either that or he won’t let George do it because of the incident. George has to work the mechanism with Mothbert, though, which Dad knows but must intentionally forget.