The clock in the hallway sounded ten times, each chime echoing in Mason’s skull. The headache that began to form over dinner stung the back of his eyes. He tried to catch Miguel’s attention, but the other man was too wrapped up describing a feud he’d had with somebody since grade school, and that was why he and his family couldn’t be invited to the house now. With a sigh, Mason pushed himself to his feet and drifted out of the house.
The early summer air was hot and dry compared to the cooler temperature of the house. Mason considered settling on the back porch, but the shed was a dark, beckoning shadow, just beyond the house’s circle of light. He jumped off the edge of the porch, drawn to the setting of so many of his fantasies. He could go inside, let himself be transported to the last time they had visited Mexico.