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At
quarter
past
two
they
returned
to
the
Jag
,
sober
but
queasy
.
"
If
there
was
nobody
riding
it
,
what
was
it
doing
in
the
middle
of
the
road
?
"
Al
demanded
.
"
It
wasn
’
t
parked
on
the
side
;
it
was
right
in
the
fucking
middle
!
"
Jack
could
only
shake
his
head
.
"
Your
party
does
not
answer
,
"
the
operator
said
.
"
Would
you
like
me
to
keep
on
trying
?
"
"
A
couple
more
rings
,
operator
.
Do
you
mind
?
"
"
No
,
sir
,
"
the
voice
said
dutifully
.
Come
on
,
Al
!
Al
had
hiked
across
the
bridge
to
the
nearest
pay
phone
,
called
a
bachelor
friend
and
told
him
it
would
be
worth
fifty
dollars
if
the
friend
would
get
the
Jag
’
s
snow
tires
out
of
the
garage
and
bring
them
down
to
the
Highway
31
bridge
outside
of
Barre
.
The
friend
showed
up
twenty
minutes
later
,
wearing
a
pair
of
jeans
and
his
pajama
top
.
He
surveyed
the
scene
.
"
Kill
anybody
?
"
he
asked
.
Al
was
already
jacking
up
the
back
of
the
car
and
Jack
was
loosening
lug
nuts
.
"
Providentially
,
no
one
,
"
Al
said
.
"
I
think
I
’
ll
just
head
on
back
anyway
.
Pay
me
in
the
morning
.
"
