This is where I was sitting the day before yesterday, perhaps forty-one hours ago, when Melissa came to drive me up to the big house. This diner is deceptively big and roomy, with comfy, burgundy vinyl upholstered booths and big formica tables. They have a menu for Western and Chinese food. I am amazed that this kind of diner still exists. A classic truckstop. The owner, I think, a slim Chinese man in his sixties, approaches us with his little notepad. We are having Chinese today. Carl has not stopped smiling since we left the house. This appears to be like a holiday for him, a great liberation.
"Your story is very impressive", says Jesús to Aaron. They are sitting together, opposed by Carl and I. We both are looking towards the window.
"Thank you", he replies. "And now it's your turn."
"Pardon?"
"Ya llega tu turno, Don Jesús. Cuéntanos todo. Now it's your turn, mister Jesús. Tell us everything."
"I don't know where to begin."
"Well, how long have you been in Canada?"
"Five years."
"How did you get here?" says Carl.
"I came as a student. To improve my English."
"How did you find out about us?" Carl asks.!
"Father Griffin."
"But who else!" shouts Carl, laughing freely and loudly. "But who fucking else!"
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