want her to have any help, this was Christine's way of getting rid of her, Christine's way of getting rid of the other woman, the competition, and now the dashboard instruments really were eyes, great round unemotional eyes watching her choke to death, eyes she could only see through a glowing jitter of black dots, dots that burst and spread as
(mamma oh my dear this I'm dying and SHE SEES ME SHE IS ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE OH MAMMA MY GOD CHRISTINE IS ALIVE)
Arnie reached for her again. Now she had begun to thrash on her seat, her chest heaving spasmodically as she clawed at her throat. Her eyes were bulging. Her lips had begun to turn blue. Arnie was pounding her ineffectually on the back and yelling something. He grabbed her shoulder, apparently meaning to pull her out of the car, and then he suddenly winced and straightened, his hands going involuntarily to the small of his back.
Leigh twitched and thrashed. The blockage in her throat felt huge and hot and throbbing. She tried again to cough it up, more weakly this time. The lump didn't budge. Now the whistle of the wind was beginning to fade, everything was beginning to fade, but her need for air didn't seem so awful. Maybe she was dying, but suddenly it didn't seem so bad. Nothing was so bad, except for those green eyes staring at her from the instrument panel. They weren't unemotional anymore. Now they were blazing with hate and triumph.
(o my God I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee I am for offending this is my act my act of of)
Arnie had reached across from the driver's side. Now Leigh's door was suddenly jerked open and she spilled sideways into a brutal, cutting cold. The air partially revived her, made her struggle for breath seem important again, but the obstruction wouldn't move . . . it just wouldn't move.
From far away, Arnie's voice thundering sternly, the voice of Zeus: 'WHATARE YOU DOING? GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!'
Arms around her. Strong arms. The wind on her face. Snow swirling in her eyes
(o my God hear me a sinner this is my act of contrition I am heartily sorry for having offended OH! OWW! what are you DOING my ribs hurts what what are you)
and suddenly there were arms around her, crushing, and a pair of hard hands were clasped together in a knot just below her breasts, in the hollow of her solar plexus. And suddenly one thumb popped up, the thumb of a hitchhiker signalling for a ride, only the thumb drove painfully into her breastbone. At the same time the grip of the. arms tightened brutally. She felt caught
(Ohhhhhhh you're breaking my RIBS)
in a gigantic bearhug. Her whole diaphragm seemed to heave, and something flew out of her mouth with the force of a projectile. It landed in the snow: a wet chunk of bun and meat.
'Let her go!' Arnie was shouting as he slipped and slid around Christine's rear deck to where the hitchhiker held Leigh's limp body like a life-sized marionette. 'Let her go, you're killing her!'
Leigh began to breathe in great, tearing gasps. Her throat and lungs seemed to burn in rivers of fire with each gulp of the cold, wonderful air. She was dimly aware that she was sobbing.
The brutal bearhug relaxed and the hands let her go. 'Are you okay, girl? Are you all - '
Then Arnie was reaching past her, grabbing for the hitchhiker. He turned toward Arnie, his long black hair flying in the wind, and Arnie hit him in the mouth. The hitchhiker flailed backward, boots slipping in the snow, and landed on his back. Fresh snow as fine and dry as confectioners' sugar puffed up around him.
Arnie advanced, fists held up, eyes slitted.
She took another convulsive breath - oh, it hurt, it was like being stabbed with knives - and screamed: 'What are you doing, Arnie? Stop it!'
He turned toward her, dazed. 'Huh? Leigh?'
'He saved my life, what are you hitting him for?'
The effort was too much and the black dots began to spiral up before her eyes again. She could have leaned against the car, but she didn't want to go near it, didn't want to touch it. The dashboard instruments. Something had happened to the dashboard instruments. Something