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A banged…up black Jeep Cherokee wheeled onto the lot as Jennie reached the door。 She stepped outside； flashing a quick； terse； automatic smile at the driver and his friends before crossing in front of them。 They were three young longhairs； probably in their early twenties： all in all； more Grateful Dead than Megadeth in spirit。
But they looked severely wired； and the Jeep came in just a little too fast； it had to squeal on its brakes to keep from nailing her。 She jumped； felt her adrenaline level surge。
And that was when she smelled it for the first time： an ugly； vaguely industrial reek with the distinct undertaint of deposition。 It was like the stink of the Spring Grove paper mills； redoubled and befouled。 For one brief； unfortable moment； it made her head spin。
〃Feh。〃 She scowled； tried to peg the source of the smell。 It seemed to be unlocalized； everywhere at once： almost as if it were pumping out of some smokestack somewhere； riding the breeze down to her little store。
Or； perhaps； ing up from the valley 。。。
Behind her； the Cherokee's driver was out the door； getting ready to gas up with the engine running。 The other two guys headed quickly into the store。 A third car…a Hyundai…pulled into the lot； sidled up behind the van。
Suddenly； things were moving too fast； she could feel the situation skittering out of her control。 Jennie turned to the white…faced man： still standing there； nozzle in hand。 First things first。 She proceeded toward him。
The smell intensified the closer she got to the van。 It was a more specific smell…oilier； thicker； more cloying…but it was clearly of the same gross vintage。 She felt the nasty little headrush resurge。 It slowed her to a crawl。
And that was when she saw； at last； the soapbubble…thin； translucent veil of slime that coated him。 Saw it move； across his surface and into the fabric of his clothes； pooling at the stains in his pants； his shirt； the bandanna around his swollen right hand。
And that was when she saw； at last； why the family was screaming。 Saw the little four…and five…year…old faces； suffused and glistening； as if the mucus drooling from their nostrils had spread out to envelop their heads； their hair。
Saw the mother and her little bundle； little bundle that kicked and squirmed； little oilslick hands and feet in weak； convulsive motion。
Then Jennie tried to scream as well。 It welled in her throat； a soundless explosion； while the horror froze her in place。
〃 。。。 pleeeeeeeeez 。。。 〃 croaked the white…faced； dying father。 Up close； the sheen was uniform： a moist glaze across his eyes； his nose； his teeth and tongue。 His bandaged hand fished into his pocket； came up with a thin wad of glistening bills。
〃DON'T TAKE HIS FUCKIN' MONEY！〃 shouted a voice from behind her。 The Cherokee's driver； wild…eyed and unequivocal。 He had just spotted the dying man。
〃 。。。 pleeeeeeeeez 。。。 〃 Holding out to her the poisoned currency。
Jennie shook her head no； began to back away。
〃DON'T LET THAT FUCKIN' ASSHOLE TOUCH YOU！〃 There was more than a touch of hysteria in the voice。 An incredible hatred； born of terror。 〃DON'T EVEN LET HIM TOUCH THE FUCKIN' PUMPS 。。。 AW； MAN 。。。 ！！！〃
Jennie's gaze swept from the kid to the man and back again； back。 The driver of the Hyundai was in the picture now； staring。 He had no idea what was going on。 She wanted to relate； but that level of innocence had already been burned off of her by the last thirty seconds。
All those years of reading science fiction； of voluntarily and willfully empathizing with the impossible； weirdly helped her to draw a bead on the moment。 There was a voice in her head…of course there was…and that voice was insisting that this isn't happening。
But that voice was wrong； and all she had to do was look in the eyes of the dying children in order to know that truth。 All she had to do was look in the crying eyes of the mother who turned to her now。
And mouthed the word。
The magic word。
Please。
There was a paper towel rack on the pole that supported the inter speaker。 She had resupplied it shortly before noon。 She pulled from it now a stack of paper towels as thick as a Frank Herbert novel； then turned her attention to the pump。
There was a greasy skidmark that glossed the metal lever that activated Number Two。
The skidmark was spreading。
Oh God。 Jennie palmed the bluegray towels； advancing on the stain。 Omigod。 She watched it spread； then stop； as if it were aware of her advance。 Oh Jesus。 When the pale gray/white…faced man offered her the money yet again； she whispered； 〃No； please〃 and then sidled slowly past him。
Reaching out for the lever。
〃NO！！！〃 screamed the kid； and she flipped the switch； letting go of the towels the instant she was done。 They hit the curb and began to stain； going dark and slick as they twitched on the pavement。 Jennie backed away fast； staring at her fingertips。 They were fine。 Zero contact。 She rubbed them together。 Nothing。 Fine。
〃Okay；〃 she said； then turned away； getting as far away from the sight and smell of them as she possibly could； turning and walking rapidly toward the door of the store and the safety within。 She didn't look at the Cherokee's driver。 She didn't look at the Hyundai maricon。 She just stared at the doors until she was upon them； then threw them open and didn't look back。
〃 'Scuse me；〃 said one of the longhairs inside； the one from the passenger seat。 He had a loud pink and black R。E。M。 T…shirt； and his pupils were enormous。 She brushed past him； unable to even think about him as she moved back to her place behind the counter。
〃 'Scuse me；〃 he repeated； following her to the end and then pacing her back up front to the register。 〃Do you have any cases of； like； Spaghetti…O's in the back？〃
〃Any canned shit！〃 yelled his friend； from the back。 He had opened a box of Heftys； was loading one garden…size bag with cans that he swept with one arm off the shelves。
〃No。〃 Jennie had the phone in her hand。 She was punching in 911。
〃Any cans at all；〃 said R。E。M。 The courteous veneer was thin； and spreading like the gas pump stain。 〃Look； it's kinda important 。。。 〃
Jennie thought about the supplies in the back。 She hadn't really checked； but she knew they had to be slim。 Tuesday； they'd restock。
If Tuesday ever came。
The phone rang。 〃No；〃 she said。 It rang again。 〃I'm sorry。〃
〃Listen。〃 R。E。M。 leaned close； against the counter。 His winning smile was horribly frayed。 〃You can e with us if you want。 Okay？ I mean； you have a car？〃
Jennie sucked wind； and her eyes went no。 The realization was like a cinder block dropped on her belly。 No。 And she thought about her man。
The phone rang again。 No answer。 No answer at 911。
〃Listen to me。 You don't want to be stuck here。〃 The kid's voice was urgent； and utterly sincere。 〃You don't know what's going on down there 。。。 〃
〃Down where？〃 The phone rang again。 Her voice sounded tiny。
〃WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TELLIN' HER； MAN？〃 yelled the guy in the back。 His voice had picked up the driver's ugly edge。
〃SHUT UP！〃 screamed R。E。M。 〃JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP！！！〃
The phone rang again； then loudly clicked。 A voice came on。 A robot voice。 〃We're sorry。 All our circuits are busy at present 。。。 〃
〃Oh； God；〃 said Jennifer Quirez。 Something else had clicked in place。 It threatened to drag her to her knees。 〃Oh； God；〃 she reiterated。
Thinking of Austin Deitz。
Once upon a time； a million years ago； Jennie had seen a film called Miracle Mile。 It was a story of doomed True Love in the face of nuclear Armageddon。 The film had ached and torn at her； for all the right wrong reasons。
Because she wanted to believe in true love。
And because she wanted to believe that the world would never end。
At that point…late one night； alone with her HBO…she had watched that goddam movie and then cried for hours； not crying herself to sleep because sleep never came； it disturbed her that badly。
And she'd realized that…if it came right down to it…the only thing worse than dying with your own true love would be to die alone。
Especially once you'd found him 。。。
〃Please hold。〃
Jennie came back。 R。E。M。 was still staring at her； but his friend was already heading out the door with the garbage bag。 〃E ON！〃 screamed the friend； throwing open the doors。
〃Good luck；〃 said R。E。M； and then turned away； too。
Outside； the Cherokee driver was yelling at the white…faced man。 〃YEAH！〃 he hollered。 〃I WANNA SEE JESUS AIRLIFT YOUR ASS OUT OF THIS ONE； YOU STUPID COCKSUCKER 。。。 ！〃
Then the doors slid shut； and she couldn't hear what happened anymore。 She watched them move in pantomime； all three of them climbing into the Jeep while the all…but…dead man pumped away； twenty dollars and counting as she read the console meter； all of it free as the canned goods clattering away in the Hefty Cinch Sak； down old Route 74 and away from here forever。
The guy in the Hyundai got back in his car and drove off without even touching the pump。 When the tan Arrow van pulled away at last； it was almost as if nothing had ever happened。
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