Among pacing and moping, hours passed and thoughts that James didn’t understand started to surface in his mind. Why couldn’t he take his eyes off Mayra? What was it about her? How come he kept going back to that photo of that kid laughing on the beach, running around in just his diaper? James had never played with such toys in his life, but somehow they struck some weird neutral chord in his soul.
After ten minutes of dazing at the patterns on the arm of his sleeper, realizing there was no “secret doorway” that led into the backyard or anything of that nature, the increasing grumbles in his stomach became deafening. James couldn’t take the pain anymore; something had to give.
