of the car with my corpse just inches beneath me on the underside of the roof."She was silent for a moment. "My first impulse was to crawl out the window.Lucky for me I didn't." Another pause. "It took me most of a night to work myway out of the yard. I had to go from wreck to wreck. There were these gaps tojump. It was a nightmare."

"I'm amazed you had the presence of mind to stay in the car."

"Dying sobers you up fast."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. And without the slightest hesitation, she joinedright in with me. It was a fine warm moment, the first I'd had since I didn'tknow when. The two of us set each other off, laughing louder and louder, ourmerriment heterodyning until it filled every television screen for a mile aroundwith snow.

My defenses were down. She reached out and took my hand.

Memory flooded me. It was her first date with Charlie. He was an electrician.Her next-door neighbor was having the place rehabbed. She'd been working in theback yard and he struck up a conversation. Then he asked her out. They went to adisco in the Adam's Mark over on City Line Avenue.

She wasn't eager to get involved with somebody just then. She was stillrecovering from a hellish affair with a married man who'd thought that since hewasn't available for anything permanent, that made her his property. But whenCharlie suggested they go out to the car for some coke--it was theSeventies--she'd said sure. He was going to put the moves on her sooner orlater. Might as welt get it settled early so they'd have more time for dancing.

But after they'd done up the lines, Charlie had shocked her by taking her handsin his and kissing them. She worked for a Bucks County pottery in those days andher hands were rough and red. She was very sensitive about them.

"Beautiful hands," he murmured. "Such beautiful, beautiful hands."

"You're making fun of me," she protested, hurt.