It drummed against her poncho, teasing her, daring her to pull back her hood, and she did, closing her eyes and turning up her face to receive it. In an instant her hair was drenched, and rivers of rain ran down her cheeks. It was all she remembered it was! She opened her mouth and felt the drops on her tongue, but it still wasn’t enough, so she grabbed the poncho, and pulled it off, exposing her flower-print blouse to the rain. She was drenched, she was chilled, and it was wonderful!

All caution had been lost in this glorious moment—she didn’t care who saw her, or how wet she got. Wanda would not catch her death of cold. She’d be soaked and confused, but in the end, Wanda would have the benefit of that warm fire to dry her off, as she sat beside Sam, the TV-watching dog.

Allie twirled in the rain, laughing, and dizzy… . But then, as the rain began to let up, the guilt began to set in. She had used Wanda to satisfy her own selfish desire. How could she have done that? She had to end this now, and get back to Mikey. Somewhere in her rain dance, she had dropped the poncho, and it had blown to the feet of the gas station attendant, a dozen yards away, who picked it up, and came toward her.

“Looks like you dropped this,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Allie said. “I got a little carried away.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Not at all, not at all.” He handed her back the poncho, smiling a lopsided smile that Allie could swear she’d seen before. “Not from around here, are you?” he asked.

Only now did Allie notice that he was just as wet as she, and didn’t seem to care. “Yes, I am,” Allie said, figuring that Wanda must live nearby.

His smile got wider. More crooked. “Right, right, but I’m not talking about the fleshie,” he said. “I’m talking about you.”

Then his hand thrust out and grabbed Allie’s wrist— grabbed it hard. It hurt—maybe more than it should have because it was the first time in a very long time Allie had felt pain. Fleshie? Did he say fleshie? Then that must mean …

She ripped herself from his grasp, and turned to run, but then found herself running right into a drenched man in a business suit—a man with beady eyes colder than the rain. “First a candy bar, then a hot dog,” he said. “Always hungry, aren’t you!”