That car’s been parked there for days now, Jerry said. Just sitting. It hasn’t moved.

What are you talking about? Alice asked.

This Pinto. This brown Pinto. Just sits there. I think a week now. Maybe two, he said. It’s all filled with trash as far as I can see. Nobody in it. Just a car filled with garbage.

Alice pushed her husband out of the way. You think it’s abandoned? She asked.

Someone left it there. Jerry started to put on his shoes.

Where are you going? What’re you doing? Gonna spy on it? Look inside? She kept staring through the blinds.

Exactly. See what his game is. What he’s up to. It’s bad for the neighborhood, he continued putting on his shoes.

So is crack, but I don’t see you investigating that at four in the morning. She told him. It’s not doing any harm. Maybe it’s a visitor. A relative of a neighbor.

Quiet. Just hush.

The Pinto was parked under a streetlight. A yellow glow bounced off its windshield. There was a sign in the driver’s window. Gone to Indonesia, it said.

Indonesia, Jerry whispered. Must be nice. Leave all your shit behind and just go to Indonesia. Women there are supposed to be beautiful, he thought.

Alice waved from the window. Jerry waved back.

There was a sign in the window, he said. Gone to Indonesia.

Where? She asked while making coffee.

Indonesia. Written out in marker. A green marker. No exclamation point. No period. Just words in green. Jerry stirred in sugar and cream.

Maybe he got fed up, Alice said to him with her hands on her waist.

Maybe.

I’ve heard it’s really nice. Alice poured more coffee.

Where did you hear that?

National Geographic, she stuttered.

Since when do you read National Geographic? Jerry put his cup down. Since when do you read?

I read, she said. I do a lot of things you don’t know about. Or notice.

Right.

I’m not dumb. She raised her voice. You’ll see.

What’re you going to do? Go to Indonesia?

I just might. I just might.