He smiled.

“You always say that.”

“And I usually do.”

He became quiet.

Then said,

“About Grandma’s bracelet…”

“It’s okay.”

“No. I’m glad you sold it.”

I looked at him.

“Really?”

“This was worth more.”

I swallowed.

“Yes.”

He looked toward the field.

“That man said I didn’t understand the rules.”

“I remember.”

“I do understand them.”

“I know.”

“Better than him.”

I smiled.

“Probably.”

Caleb became serious.

“The rules are simple.”

“What rules?”

“You take care of people.”

I waited.

“You don’t take things that don’t belong to you.”

He pointed toward the wheelchair space.

“And when somebody needs the seat that belongs to them, you move.”

I smiled.

“Those are good rules.”

“He didn’t know them.”

“No.”

“Dorothy knew.”

“She did.”

“Harold probably knew too.”

“I think so.”

Caleb grinned.

“The lunchbox people.”

I laughed.

“The lunchbox people.”

We left through the accessible exit.