Re: Campbells.
Russ folded his arms and he squinted as if staring at the kid would make this sudden vehemence make arguable sense. There was no preface to the gestures that explained why Ford suddenly objected to Nathan and in the strongest terms that could be made without vocal interjection.
"Okay," he said, with the caution that had been learned amid broken teacups and vituperative streams of Haitian at his head, "So no Nathan and you. I get it, kid. I get it." He got it plenty, and his voice had gone coaxing, like perhaps Ford was an especially skittish cat. "But I still gotta get you home. And I gotta get him home. So you come back with me and you can shower," because the kid still smelled vaguely ripe, like dirt under extremely caustic soap, "And I can get him back to his mom. Okay?" He looked at Ford with some degree of nervousness beneath thick blond eyebrows.