'Okay,' she said, 'that's the trap. But once she - it - comes in, how are you going to get that door shut again to keep her in? Maybe there's a button in Darnell's office that does it, but I didn't see it.'
'So far as I know, there isn't one,' I said. 'So you're going to be standing over there by the button that shuts the door.' I pointed. The manual button was located on the right side of the door, about two feet below the ruin of the electric door-opener box. 'You'll be against the wall, out of sight. When Christine comes in - always assuming she does - you're going to push the button that starts the door coming down and then step outside in a hurry. The door comes down. And, bam! The trap's shut.'
Her face set. 'On you as well as her. In the words of the immortal Wordsworth, that sucks.'
'That's Coleridge, not Wordsworth. There's no other way to do it, Leigh. If you're still inside when that door comes down, Christine is going to run you down. Even if there was a button in Darnell's office - well, you saw in the paper what happened to the side of his house.'
Her face was stubborn. 'Park over by the switch. And when she comes in, I'll reach out the window and hit the button and lower the door.'
'If I park there, I'll be in sight. And if this tank is in sight, she won't come in.'
'I don't like it!' she burst out. 'I don't like leaving you alone! It's like you tricked me!'
In a way, that's just what I had done, and for whatever it's worth, I would not do it the same way now - but I was going on eighteen then, and there's no male chauvinist pig like an eighteen-year-old male chauvinist pig. I put an arm around her shoulders. She resisted stiffly for a moment and then came to me, 'There's just no other way,' I said. 'If it wasn't for my leg, or if you could drive a manual shift - ' I shrugged.
'I'm scared for you, Dennis. I want to help'
'You'll be helping plenty. You're the one that's really in danger, Leigh - you'll be outside, on the floor, when she comes in. I'm just going to sit up here in the cab and beat that bitch back into component parts.'
'I only hope it works that way,' she said, and put her head on my chest. I touched her hair.
So we waited.
In my mind's eye I could see Arnie coming out of the main building at LHS, books under his arm. I could see Regina waiting for him there in the Cunninghams' compact wagon, radiant with happiness, Arnie smiling remotely and submitting to her embrace. Arnie, you've made the right decision . . . you don't know how relieved, how happy, your father and I are. Yes, Mom. Do you want to drive, honey? No, you drive, Mom. That's okay.
The two of them setting off for Penn State through the light snow, Regina driving, Arnie sitting in the shotgun seat with his hands folded stiffly in his lap, his face pale and unsmiling and clear of acne.
And back in the student parking lot at LHS, Christine sitting silently in the driveway. Waiting for the snow to thicken. Waiting for dark.
At three-thirty or so, Leigh went back through Darnell's office to use the bathroom, and while she was gone I dry-swallowed two more Darvon. My leg was a steady, leaden agony.
Shortly after that, I lost coherent track of time. The dope had me fuddled, I guess. The whole thing began to seem Dreamlike the deepening shadows, the white light coming in through the windows slowly changing to an ashy grey, the drone of the overhead heaters.
I think that Leigh and I made love . . . not in the ordinary way, not with my leg the way it was, but some kind of sweet substitute. I seem to remember her breath steepening in my ear until she was nearly panting; I seem to remember her whispering for me to be careful, to please be careful, that she had lost Arnie and could not bear to lose me too. I seem to remember an explosion of pleasure that made the pain disappear in a brief but total way that not all the Darvon in the world could manage . . . but