The ham was still in his oven back home, glazing in the pan, and the foil had probably gone black by now.

He pressed the two latches.

The phone inside was the color of stale coffee and heavier than it looked.

He flicked the power switch with his thumb.

Nothing.

The battery had been out of it since October.

He leaned into the cab and yanked the glove compartment open.

The battery was tucked behind the registration, wrapped in a shop rag, where it had spent the whole winter.