and it had been quarter of eight when they left the mall.
'Just as well,' Arnie said. 'I'm damn near broke anyway.'
The headlights picked out the hitchhiker standing at the intersection of Route 17 and JFK Drive, still five miles outside of Libertyville. His black hair was shoulder-length, speckled with snow, and there was a duffel-bag between his feet.
As they approached him, the hitchhiker held up a sign painted with Day-Glo letters It read: LIBERTYVILLE, PA. As they drew closer, he flipped it over. The other side read: NON-PSYCHO COLLEGE STUDENT.
Leigh burst out laughing. 'Let's give him a ride, Arnie.' Arnie said, 'When they go out of their way to advertise their non-psychotic status, that's when you got to look out. But okay.' He pulled over. That evening he would have tried to catch the moon in a bushel basket if Leigh had asked him to give it a shot.
Christine rolled smoothly to the verge of the road, tyres barely slipping. But as they stopped, static blared across the radio, which had been playing some hard rock tune, and when the static cleared, there was the Big Bopper, singing 'Chantilly Lace'.
'What happened to the Block Party Weekend?' Leigh asked as the hitchhiker ran toward them.
'I don't know,' Arnie said, but he knew. It had happened before. Sometimes all that Christine's radio would pick up was WDIL. It didn't matter what buttons you pushed or how much you fooled with the FM converter tinder the dashboard; it was WDIL or nothing.
He suddenly felt that stopping for the hitchhiker had been a mistake.
But it was too late for second thoughts now; the fellow had opened one of Christine's rear doors, tossed his duffel-bag onto the floor, and slipped in after it. A blast of cold air and a swirl of snow came in with him.
'Ah, man, thanks.' He sighed. 'My fingers and toes all took off for Miami Beach about twenty minutes ago. They must have gone somewhere, anyway cause I sure can't feel em anymore.'
'Thank my lady,' Arnie said shortly.
'Thank you, ma'am,' the hitchhiker said, tipping an invisible hat gallantly.
'Don't mention it,' Leigh said, and smiled. 'Merry Christmas.'
'Same to you,' the hitchhiker said, 'although you'd never know there was such a thing if you'd been standing out there trying to hook a ride tonight. People just breeze by and then they're gone. Voom.' He looked around appreciatively. 'Nice car, man. Hell of a nice car.'
'Thanks,' Arnie said.
'You restore it yourself?'
'Yeah.'
Leigh was looking at Arnie, puzzled. His earlier expansive mood had been replaced by a curtness that was not like his usual self at all. On the radio, the Big Bopper finished and Richie Valens came on, doing 'La Bamba'.
The hitchhiker shook his head and laughed. 'First the Big Bopper, then Richie Valens. Must be death night on the radio. Good old WDIL.'
'What do you mean?' Leigh asked.
Arnie snapped the radio off. 'They died in a plane crash. With Buddy Holly.'
'Oh,' Leigh said in a small voice.
Perhaps the hitchhiker also sensed the change in Arnie's mood; he fell silent and meditative in the back seat. Outside, the snow began to fall faster and harder. The first good storm of the season had come in.
At length, the golden arches twinkled up out of the snow.
'Do you want me to go in, Arnie?' Leigh asked. Arnie had gone nearly as quiet as stone, turning aside her bright attempts at conversation with mere grunts.
'I will,' he said, and pulled in. 'What do you want?' 'Just a hamburger and french fries, please.' She had intended to go the whole hog - Big Mac, shake, even the cookies - but her appetite seemed to have shrunk away to nothing.
Arnie parked. In the yellow light flaring from the squat brick building's undersides, his face looked jaundiced and somehow diseased. He turned around, arm trailing over the seat. 'Can I grab you something?'
'No thanks,' the hitchhiker said. 'Folks'll be waiting supper. Can't disappoint my mom. She kills the fatted calf every time I come h - '
The chunk of door cut off his final word. Arnie had gotten out and was headed briskly across to the IN door, his boots kicking up little puffs of new snow.
'Is he always that cheery?' the hitchhiker asked 'Or does he get sorta taciturn sometimes?'
'He's very sweet,' Leigh said firmly. She was suddenly nervous. Arnie had turned off the engine and taken the keys, and she was left alone with this stranger in the back seat. She could see him in the rearview mirror,