I don’t know how many times I do it.
Reversing. Going forward. Reversing.
At some point, the dealer runs off. I should be worried about the cops coming, but I doubt the dealer is the kind of guy who’d run to the police if a deal went south.
At some point, the car’s fuel light comes on.
At some point, it starts to rain.
Fat drops splatter against the windshield, blurring the world into streaks of shadow and light. I turn on the wipers automatically, watching them sweep back and forth, back and forth.
I can’t see Lenny all that well anymore, and now it’s impossible to tell if he’s still moving or if the rain is making his clothes dance. I drag myself out of the car, wincing at the rain stinging my face, and go to look at Lenny.
At what’s left of him.
I stand there for a moment, trying to identify what’s what, but most of it’s turned into pink mush.
My stomach heaves, but nothing comes up.
Shouldn’t I be feeling something?
Horror. Guilt. Satisfaction…something?
But now that my laughter’s subsided, there’s…nothing.
I haven’t checked out. My brain just switches to autopilot.
I fetch a few strips of plastic from a tent, wrap up the larger pieces of Lenny, and load the trunk. Piece by piece. Then I stand in the rain until my clothes are soaked, get in the car, and turn the key.
I have to find a gas station soon because I imagine being discovered stranded on the side of the road would be a dangerous situation to be in. Anyone could come by and try to hurt the damsel in distress.
Although I’d run them over if they tried.
I pull into the nearest gas station, staring dumbstruck at the sign on the pump.
PRE-PAY AFTER 10PM.
Right. I need money for gas.
Which I’d have, if my last ten bucks hadn’t fluttered away by the underpass.
No worries.
I pop the trunk and rifle through the plastic-wrapped chunks of Lenny until I find the one that still has his pants pocket attached.
There’s a wad of bills inside.
Four hundred bucks.
I stare at it for a moment as a single thought plays on repeat in my head.
He had enough money to pay the dealer.
He had enough money.
He had enough…and hestilltried to sell me.
This makes me laugh. I’m still laughing when I walk inside, rain-soaked and muddy, to slap a twenty on the counter.
