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I pull the bills from my wallet and hold them up.

The window comes the rest of the way down.

“Airport?”

“Airport.”

He looks at the money one more time.

“Okay. Fine.”

No questions.

Lisbon may be growing on me.

Not enough.

At the airport, he pulls to the curb.

I hand him the cash.

He looks considerably happier with me than he did twenty minutes ago.

I reach for my bag.

Then I remember the gun.

I reach under the passenger seat and hold it out to him.

He looks at it.

Then at me.

“Keep it.”

His hands stay on the steering wheel.

“In case you ever run into someone like me again.”

I get out and leave it on the passenger seat.

His expression suggests this has not clarified anything.

Fair.

Inside, I buy the first ticket that gets me to Austin.

There is a connection.

Fine.

The fare is obscene.

Fine.

The woman behind the counter looks at my hand.

Not fine, apparently.