stepped into his shoes, then rushed to the refrigerator. The message was hand-lettered, large and bold:
DIRTY CAR? YOU WANT A CLEAN CAR WE WANT A NEW COMPUTER FOR THE SCHOOL NEWSPAPER! COME TO US! IT’S A WIN WIN SITUATION!!! WHEN: SATURDAY, 9 AM TO 5 PM WHERE: PARKING LOT, FAIRVIEW HIGH SCHOOL 8321 FAIRVIEW BOULEVARD, LOS ANGELES HOW MUCH: $5.00 DONATION IF NOT COMPLETELY SATISFIED, WE’LL REFUND YOUR DIRT!
In blue ink, someone had scrawled, “Too cute!” underneath the comment about refunding dirt.
Did Brenda do that? Toby wondered. Probably.
He liked the idea that she’d scribbled a smart remark on the thing.
Perky kid. She’ll be a scrapper. It’ll be great.
Toby plucked the paper off the refrigerator, sending Eeyore flying. He watched the magnet hit the floor. It bounced but didn’t break.
He read the announcement again.
Fairview High. That won’t be hard to find. Can’t be too far away, either.
But should he go for Brenda? Or forget about her and go after Sherry?
A hard choice.
There’d been no choice before listening to Sherry’s message. It had been simple then; take down the parents, grab Brenda and drive her to his house for fun and games.
But he’d given up that plan after hearing Sherry on the answering machine. For one thing, there was no guarantee he’d be able to find Brenda at all. The car wash might be miles away in any direction. He could spend hours searching for it and maybe never find it. For another thing, it’d be crazy to go chasing after Brenda now that Sherry was alive.
How the hell did she live through all that? he wondered. She’s gotta be in awfully bad shape.
She didn’t sound so bad on the phone.
Keeping the flier, he left the house and headed for his car.
It all keeps changing, he thought as he walked along. Now I know where to find Brenda. I can go straight there. Can’t be all that far away, either. But Sherry’s alive. She knows who I am. She can send the cops after me.
Why hasn’t she?
“Good question,” he muttered.
Realizing he’d spoken out loud, he looked around. He was at the bottom of the driveway. He saw no one nearby, just a couple of Sikhs walking along on the other side of the street. They were paying no attention to him. He looked down at himself. The fly of his shorts was open, he had the car wash announcement in one hand and he still wore the rubber gloves.
Not breaking stride, he clamped the paper between his teeth, pulled off the gloves and shoved them into the right rear pocket of his shorts. After glancing around again to make sure he wasn’t being watched, he pulled up his zipper.
He checked himself again.
“Lookin’ good,” he muttered.
Where was I?
Gotta decide between Brenda and Sherry.
He sure knew who he wanted. Brenda. She was fresh and beautiful and unused.
He’d already done everything he’d ever dreamed of with Sherry. She was used up.
Oughta be dead.
Needs to be dead, he told himself. That’s the thing. She knows my name. All she has to do is tell the cops who I am…
But she hasn’t.
Not yet, anyway. If she’d told, I’d be busted by now.
Or dead.
As he approached his car, the notion scurried through his mind that maybe he shouldn’t let himself be taken alive. Might be better to have a shoot-out with the cops, go down in a blaze of glory.
It’s either that, he thought, or spend the rest of my life dying of AIDS in prison.
Feeling a little sick, he climbed into his car. He tossed the pink sheet of paper onto the passenger seat, then started the engine. And sat there.
Who says I’ve got AIDS? he thought. Just because Sherry has it…if she does…Who says she wasn’t lying? And even if she was telling the truth, you don’t have to necessarily catch it just because you mess around a little.
A lot. I messed around a lot.
He started remembering, reliving in his mind all that he’d done to her. He could see her slim, naked body under him; feel her hot slippery skin and her snug suction; taste her flesh, her juices; hear her grunts and whimpers; hear the thuds and smacks and whipping sounds of the beating; hear the wet sounds their bodies made together.
As he dwelled in the vivid memories, his sickening fear quickly faded away. His penis pushed upward against the front of his shorts.
Good thing I zipped up, he thought. It’d be sticking out.
He smiled.
Who do I want to stick it in? That’s the