I knew then that I had won the battle I most wanted to lose. I wasn’t done yet—the pain would continue for a minute or so more—but I had broken his pattern, interrupted his trajectory, and he would not go toward his car again until I released him from conversation.
Oh, how I wanted him to go to his car! To hurry! To be out of my way, to leave her to me!
But my inner self snorted. What, after all, could Karly/Cory see in a crippled old codger like me?
Besides, I had already killed her twice. I would not, could not, hurt her again.
So I babbled. I don’t know what I said, and it didn’t matter; I could see he was thinking of how she would respond to the gift I had given him for her.
Finally, out of the corner of my eye I saw a car carom around the corner, out of control. The sound of an explosion filled the air. I didn’t have to look to know that Gary’s car had vanished in a burst of flame, across the street, half a block away.
He looked at the fireball which had once been his prize possession. “My car!” he said, mouth hanging wide. He looked back at me, dazed.
And then I heard the sound that brought tears to my eyes. The sound of happy feet, running urgently now, came up behind me. I took a step, and another, but my will was weak. I turned back just briefly, to see her, the new her, the girl whom my planning and effort had brought into existence. I had to see her just once.