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expected Max to hand over his money. The boy wore clean but ragged jeans and a T-shirt that looked at least two sizes too big. His shoes, again, were clean but had seen better days. He thought he saw the boy’s socks peeking out from the sides of both shoes but wasn’t sure and had no intention of looking too closely.
    “I might,” Max answered not moving or taking his eyes from the boy. “Why do you want to know?”
    “I was wanting a hot dog,” the kid said, jerking his head toward the vendor across the room. “I can get a hot dog and a Coke for a dollar.”
    “Why didn’t you bring money with you if you wanted something to eat?” The second the words left his mouth, he knew the child probably didn’t have even that. The boy dropped his hand, looking back at the concession stand with regret but resignation.
    “Ain’t got none,” he said with a sigh and started to walk away. Something inside Max twisted, and he actually put his hand to his chest.
    “Wait,” Max said, feeling an uncharacteristic need to remedy his SNAFU. “Are you here with Zeta?”
    “Ms. Z? Na. My sister is though. I’m just hanging.”
    “Why aren’t you in Ms. Z’s class?” Why Max was even bothering with the question, he had no idea. All he knew was that something inside him needed to know this kid’s story.
    “I don’t need no learnin’.” The kid gave him a pinched-faced look, like Max had done went and lost his mind.”
    “Oh, really.” Max raised an eyebrow. “If you had ‘learning’”—he made air quotes—“you might be able to buy yourself a hot dog and a drink.”
    The kid sat down beside Max, a grudgingly interested look on his face. “You think so?” He nodded at Max. “You got learnin’?”
    “I do. What’s your name, kid?”
    “Trevor. What’s yours?”
    “Max.” He stuck out his hand to shake the boy’s hand. “I tell you what, Trevor. You go to Ms. Z. Have her teach you multiplication to the twos. If you can say them to me before you leave, you’ll have earned your dollar. Think you can do that?”
    “You’ll really give me a dollar if I learn my numbers?” Little Trevor sounded doubtful, but Max saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes.
    “I won’t give you anything,” Max said, quickly adding, “you’ll have earned it.”
    Trevor looked at him a long moment as if sizing him up. Then he nodded once and scampered over to Zeta’s group. She welcomed him with open arms as the child told her what he wanted. Without looking at Max, Zeta urged him to sit at the table next to her.
    For the next couple of hours, Max watched Zeta as she taught the small group of children ranging from Trevor’s age to what had to be late teens. She was patient, laughing with them from time to time, showing them what she thought they needed to know. It was all reading and math at various stages. Max noticed some of the children were advanced for their grade while others were severely behind. Zeta took her time with each child, encouraging them, praising them in turn. Not one of them gave her trouble. Not one complained. And every single one of them looked at her as if she hung the moon.
    Maximilian watched little Trevor as he studied and recited his multiplication tables to Zeta. She quizzed him repeatedly, thoroughly, until Trevor rattled them off to her satisfaction. Then she nodded her head, ruffling Trevor’s hair for good measure as the little boy turned and sprinted toward Maximilian.
    “Well?” Max asked with a raised brow.
    With his little chest puffed out, Trevor recited the multiplication tables not just through two, but through five. Seems the little brat had been holding out. Max had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
    “Looks like you’ve exceed my expectation,” he said to the boy. “For that, I think you deserve a bonus.” Maximilian pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to the child. Trevor’s eyes grew wide, and he grinned widely at Max.
    “Wow!