—She made these sandwiches?
—She bought them in the coffee shop, then brought them back because I told her I had to stay put.
Emmett set his sandwich down.
—You shouldn’t be accepting sandwiches from strangers, Billy.
—But I didn’t accept the sandwiches when we were strangers, Emmett. I accepted them when we were friends.
Emmett closed his eyes for a moment.
—Billy, he said as gently as he could, you can’t become friends with someone just by talking to them in a train station. Even if you spent an hour together sitting on a bench, you would hardly know anything about them.
—I know a lot about Mrs. Simpson, Billy corrected. I know that she was raised outside Ottumwa, Iowa, on a farm just like ours, although they only grew corn and it never got foreclosed. And she has two daughters, one who lives in St. Louis and one who lives in Chicago. And the one who lives in Chicago, whose name is Mary, is about to have a baby. Her first. And that’s why Mrs. Simpson was here in the station. In order to take the Empire Special to Chicago so that she could help Mary with the care of the baby. Mr. Simpson couldn’t go because he’s the president of the Lions Club and is presiding over a dinner on Thursday night.
Emmett held up his hands.
—All right, Billy. I can see that you’ve learned a lot about Mrs. Simpson. So the two of you may not be strangers, exactly. You’ve been getting acquainted with each other. But that still doesn’t make you friends. To become friends doesn’t take just an hour or two. It takes a bit longer. Okay?
—Okay.
Emmett picked up his sandwich and took another bite.
—How much? asked Billy.
Emmett swallowed.
—How much?
—How much longer do you need to talk to a stranger before they become your friend?
For a moment, Emmett considered wading into the intricacies of how relationships evolve over time. Instead, he said: —Ten days.
Billy thought about this for a moment, then shook his head.
—Ten days seems like a very long time to have to wait to become a friend, Emmett.
—Six days? suggested Emmett.
Billy took a bite and chewed as he considered, then nodded his head with satisfaction.
—Three days, he said.
—All right, said Emmett. We’ll agree that it takes at least three days for someone to become a friend. But before that we’ll think of them as strangers.
—Or acquaintances, said Billy.
—Or acquaintances.
The brothers went back to eating.
Emmett gestured with his head toward the big red book, which Billy had set down in the spot where Mrs. Simpson had been.
—What is this book you’ve been reading?
—Professor Abacus Abernathe’s Compendium of Heroes, Adventurers, and Other Intrepid Travelers.
—Sounds compelling. Can I take a look?
With a touch of concern, Billy looked from the book to his brother’s hands and back again.
Setting his sandwich down on the bench, Emmett carefully wiped his hands on his napkin. Then Billy passed him the book.
Knowing his brother as he did, Emmett did not simply open the book to some random page. He began at the beginning—the very beginning—by opening to the endpapers. And it was a good thing he had. For while the book’s cover was solid red with a golden title, the endpapers were illustrated with a detailed map of the world crisscrossed by an array of dotted lines. Each of the different lines was identified by a letter of the alphabet and presumably indicated the route of a different adventurer.
Billy, who had put down his sandwich and wiped his hands on his own napkin, moved a little closer to Emmett so that they could study the book together—just as he had when he was younger and Emmett would read to him from a picture book. And just as in those days, Emmett looked to Billy to see if he was ready to continue. At Billy’s nod, Emmett turned to the title page, where he was surprised to find an inscription.
To the Intrepid Billy Watson,
With wishes for all manner of travels and adventures,
Ellie Matthiessen
Though the name seemed vaguely familiar, Emmett couldn’t remember who Ellie Matthiessen was. Billy must have sensed his brother’s curiosity, because he gently put a finger on her signature.
—The librarian.
Of course, thought Emmett. The one with the glasses who had spoken so fondly of Billy.
Turning the page, Emmett came to the table of contents.
Achilles
Boone
Caesar
Dantès
Edison
Fogg
Galileo Hercules
Ishmael
Jason
King Arthur