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〃Look who's talkin！〃 Gwen called back； assessing the well…fed； well…dressed； absolutely robust…looking figure that approached her； bags in hand。 Hard to believe that this was the same old Micki Bridges。
Hard to believe that this was the woman who'd been given less than six months to live； a little over five years ago。
〃You look great！〃 Micki reiterated； closing the distance。
〃Bullshit。 You look great！〃
〃Bullshit； you 。。。 ！〃
And then they were laughing and embracing； thrilled to be in one another's presence once again： celebrating the one true friendship that had lasted them all their lives。
〃So；〃 Micki said as they disengaged。 〃Where's hubby？〃
〃He got called in to work；〃 Gwen said。
〃Oh。〃 Very dryly。 〃What a surprise。〃
And that； of course； was where the same old crap started up all over again。
The main bone of contention between them had always hinged on their tastes in men。 From grade school on； those tastes had been both clearly defined and mutually exclusive。
Gwen favored earthy； grounded； extremely physical men： guys who worked with heavy machinery； played football； rode big bikes； went white…water rafting； and knocked back Buds with a J。D。 chaser。 She liked men with big hands； steady jobs； and massive； sinewy； bull…shaped bodies； men with fierce loyalties； fiery passions； and healthy appetites that she could trust would be brought home to her； day after day after day。
Micki； on the other hand； did not like to be physically overpowered or remotely dependent。 Not even in potentia。 Her men were ropier； substantially shorter； more flighty and esoteric。 She ate up musicians like truffles； especially sax players。 Give her a Juzo Itami film festival； a little Frank Zappa and Baba Ram Dass； good Chablis； great conversation； double chocolate Haagen…Dazs； and serious head for an hour； you could then gift…wrap her and take her home。
But rarely for more than a week。
And so it was that Gwen wound up with a Harley…riding engineer eight years her senior； whom she'd lived with for four years and been married to going on three； and with whom she was having the child of their dreams。
And Micki wound up with a forty…thousand…year…old spirit entity as her permanent life…partner and male panion。 Not to mention a handful of lovers on the side。
Not surprisingly； Micki and Gwen had serious problems with each other's picks； though； much to their credit； Gary and Bob…Ramtha got along better than most of the guys they'd introduced to each other。 All in all； it was the most absurd aspect of their relationship。
Because； in virtually every other respect； they loved and admired each other to pieces。 Micki； por ejemplo； was smitten with Gwen's emotional honesty； her bone…deep passion and sheer innate goodness； her automatic and essentially unconditional love of other people。 Most people had to work very hard for the kind of spirit that came to Gwen naturally； and Micki was convinced that she would make absolutely the best mother in the world。
Gwen； conversely； was in awe of Micki's balls…out courage； in everything from battling her cancer to standing by （and profiting from！） her unorthodox lifestyle decisions。 Gwen thought that； with the possible exception of Gary； Micki Bridges was the strongest person she'd ever met。
In fact； as Gwen often pointed out； Micki and Gary were an awful lot alike。 They both insisted on living life entirely on their own terms。 Not that they were hard to get along with； but on that one point； they were utterly inflexible。 You could not persuade them to violate their natures； there wasn't enough money in the world to make them run against their own grains。
Which was probably why they didn't get along。 They were just too goddam similar。
〃I don't know about that；〃 Micki said； the surprisingly warm highway air tousling her hair through the moving truck's open window。 〃But I'll tell you this。 I didn't e all the way out here to sit around watching football。〃
Gwen laughed； her angst…sopping mood abolished。 〃Okay。 So whaddaya wanna do？〃
〃I was thinking 。。。 〃 Drawing the pause out dramatically； skrinching her hazel eyes。 〃 。。。 since it's such a nice day； we might want to get a little； you know 。。。 lost 。。。 on the way back。〃
Gwen smiled slyly。 〃You knew I made sandwiches； didn't you？〃
〃You're awfully predictable。〃
〃And only you would drag a pregnant woman who's ready to burst out into the middle of nowhere。〃
〃You mean I'm predictable； too？〃 Micki made a horror…stricken g…force face and they laughed。 The conspiracy was ripe。 Micki got serious first。
〃You sure you're gonna be okay？〃 she asked。
〃Oh； yeah；〃 Gwen said。 〃I'm a tough old broad。〃
〃Okay。〃 Micki braced her feet against the dashboard。 〃Sam Lewis？〃 she asked。
〃Sam Lewis；〃 Gwen answered； without a moment's hesitation。
〃Let's do it。〃
〃Weeee…HA！〃 Gwen hooted； stomping down on the gas； as they motored down old Route 624 toward Sam Lewis State Park； and the river that unwound like a serpent below。
Fifteen
And this was how the cookie crumbled：
Blake was at the sautee table at the Lincoln Woods buffet when his beeper went off。 He jumped； surprising no one more than himself。
Okay； he thought； gearing up for the worst。 He'd certainly known it was ing。 He was just slightly appalled with himself for having entertained the foolish hope that it wouldn't。
Stupid； he chastised himself。 Hope is the opiate of the misinformed。
Blake politely excused himself from his wife and their pany； padded through the thickly carpeted pastel interior； and made the first of many calls。
Blake was a man of many hats： in his capacity as pointman for PEMA； he performed mucho munity liaison。 He was the Need To Know man： he determined who needed to know； what they needed to know； and when they needed to know it。 When it came to local industry； no story was released in either print or broadcast form without his expressed approval。
So when 911 notified PEMA that they had called in HazMat； the girl at the PEMA switchboard paged Blake right away。 He got her story； thanked her warmly； hung up； and dialed again。
Two minutes on the phone with the guys from HazMat； and Blake knew everything he needed to know。
It was； indeed； a can of worms； and it was about to open right into his lap。
Unless he got out of the way。
His next call was to Leonard。 No answer。 He thought for a moment； men spent the next fifteen minutes doing a little hole…plugging in advance。 EPA； DER； all said no problem。 Everyone would hold the line。 No need to incite a panic。 By the time he got back to the table； they were already on dessert。
Not to worry； he assured them。
He'd already had more than his fill。
Down at the Big Boy； Harold Leonard echoed the sentiment； magnified to the ninety…seventh power。 His plateful of silver…dollar pancakes； eggs； and link sausage lay congealing in imitation maple syrup before him； barely touched。 He couldn't even think about it。
He was thinking about the future。
〃Daddy？〃 The voice bled in from deepest space； from the seat to his immediate right。 〃Daddy？ Daddy！〃
Leonard blinked； came back to the earth plane。 His three…year…old； Thea； was yanking his sleeve。 〃Yes； honey？〃 he said； on full automatic； the words a split second ahead of him。
〃Daddy；〃 she scolded； 〃I learned a new song today！〃
〃Ah。 Heh…heh；〃 he said； his eyes quickly scanning the table。 Marge was busy feeding Wally and Timmy； the toddler twins； it was a task that demanded her total concentration。 Teenage Brad and Jerry were tormenting little Harold； Jr。 at the far end of the table； probably about his ears。 Little Harold looked precisely like his father felt： teetering on the brink of tears。
〃You want to hear it；〃 Thea told him； her pudgy little features a frightening parody of his own。 He felt haunted by her shining eyes； the absolute lack of empathy in them。 She had no idea what was going on inside him。 None whatsoever。 None of them did。
〃'I know you； I walk with you wunnsa ponna dream；'〃 she sang。
〃Not right now； honey；〃 he said； his panic rising。 The chinkling of silver； the inchoate gurble of voices； the featureless Muzak； and cholesterol smells collided in his head。 He winced against the strobing fluorescent plastic orange decor。
〃No； Daddy！〃 Her eyes； in his face； were huge。 〃It's Seeping Booty！ Listen！ 'I know you； the geamin your eyes is sofer million a gream 。。。 '〃 When her voice raked the high notes； it bore a drill bit through his skull。
Timmy was laughing。 Wally was screaming。 Marge was cooing now now now； over and over。 Now now now。
〃' 。。。 An' I know its true； I feenal my selpis alba sleem 。。。 '〃
〃Excuse me；〃 he blurted； the tears welling up now； his face hot and clammy as he skreeed back in his chair。 〃Excuse me；〃 he repeated； standing； all eyes upon him at last as he turned away quickly； ashamed of himself； and headed for the men's room。 The Muzak； the sound of other people's families chased him； dogged him across the restaurant。
There was a vacant bank of phones in the narrow access corridor。 It was there that he chose to break down