“One of my foster families in Phoenix decided it would be fun to rent a minivan, pile all the kids into it, and go on a road trip to Myrtle Beach. The mom had a sister there. We’d just crossed over the state line into North Carolina when we had to stop for gas, and—I think they made a movie about this, where they forget the kid at home? Well, they forgot me at the gas station.” “How old were you?” “Ten.” “Poor little buddy.”
