Distractions.

“Oll I esk, iss you look ander de soorfass,” Mr. Zavags said flatly, as he stared expectantly at the closed book in Ray’s hand. Ray met the insincerely imploring eyes. He had mastered the art of simultaneously making eye contact with someone while looking through them, and he let his eyes search the field through the window behind the professor’s head, where he swore a businessman with an axe stuffed into his shoulder-blade was running laps. These were the dark days after all, and many things Ray once hoped for were coming true.