"But?" lssie straightens herself up, waiting.
"But," I continue, "I am pretty positive that the man I saw when my dad died is the same one at the high school. I am pretty damn sure, actually, and I want to find out who the hell he is."
lssie tries again. "What if he's a pixie?"
I almost laugh. "I don't think he's actually a pixie. Maybe a stalker or something."
lssie's eyes light up. "You mean he read the Web site and he's modeling his behavior?"
"Yeah. I don't know. But if he's just some normal psycho how can he get everywhere so quickly? It makes no sense. It might just be a big coincidence."
"You don't believe that. You're just trying to fool yourself, to not be scared," lssie says.
I swallow. She's right. I am.
"What about the dust?" Devyn urges. "There's not a lot of it, but it's there. I saw it."
"I don't know about the dust. Maybe he plants it, like some sort of creepy calling card," I say, checking my watch. "I'm sorry. I have to go get the car registered before they close."
It's true, but I'm really trying to leave because I just want a second to myself, a second to figure this out.
When I get to the door, lssie puts her hand on my wrist, gently. "You'll be careful, right?"
I nod.
"You don't believe us?" Devyn asks, pivoting the chair so he can look at me.
"I don't know," I say. "I don't know. The whole pixie thing is weird, but I mean, it's also weird that I'm here in Maine."
"And that he followed you," Devyn adds.
'"That's not just weird," Issie says. "It's creepy. Really creepy."
This is a fear I've never had. Until now.
"I am amaxophobic!" I announce to the steering wheel. I half hug it to make the point.
The steering wheel does not hug back.
There should be a rule that says you can't get too settled into things because something bad will happen.
Oh, I think there is. It's called Murphy's law, and it's about expecting things to go wrong.
I've only driven about three miles from Issie's when the Subaru tires make this horrible noise. The whole car just slides off to the right. The car angles itself toward the woods.
"Stop!" I yell. I slam the brakes. The car slows. It stops at a forty-five-degree angle in the breakdown lane.
"Okay. Stay calm," I tell the steering wheel. "No need to panic."
The wheel does not panic.
"This is my karmic payback for not figuring out the whole psycho-stalker thing sooner, right?"
I try to move the car back onto the road and its tires skid. Smoke flies up from beneath them.
"Okay, little car, you are protesting roads. They are death traps for animals. They are environmentally unsound impervious surfaces that cause runoff. I understand this. But could we protest in the summer?"
I try to back up again.
One of my tires falls into the gutter thing on the side of the road.
My whole body shakes. I try to move the car. It lurches to the side.
Okay. Two of my tires are now in the gutter on the side of the road.
"Yoko! Do not do this to me!"
Wait. I've named the car. Why Yoko? I have no idea. Yoko was always there for John, unlike the way the Subaru is here for me.
"Come on, Yoko. Let's imagine there's no gutter. It's easy if you try. No empty air below your tire.
Above it only car."
I put it in reverse. I put it in forward. I try to rock the stupid car back and forth. I shut off the Green Day. Maybe Yoko doesn't like Green Day?
"I hate Maine!"
I smash my fist against the steering wheel.
The horn blares, probably scaring all the little squirrels in the woods. I don't care. I hit it again.
"Stupid, stupid Maine," I mutter and bang the steering wheel another, time and then another until red marks start showing up on the sides of my hands.
Things areso not good. The sun is going down. It's freezing out. My car is all stuck and tilted like everything in the world is somehow horribly skewed and wrong, which I guess it is.
I mean, I am in Maine in a car stuck on ice.
I am beating up Yoko, which is just so wrong.
And I can't use my cell phone.
Why? I forgot to charge it.
Could life be worse?
I try to move again. The car lurches but slides right back.