She hadn’t. But I knew she would.

The next day Charlene had an early morning dental appointment. She’d told me on the way home the night before that she’d discovered that one of her back teeth was coming in at some weird angle. “Dentist said he’d never seen anything like it,” Charlene had bragged. “Not ever.”

The blue car was there again.

And then I was gone.

I get up to answer the ding of the microwave. Millicent follows me. It’s funny how the most traumatic events that happen to you are always there behind a sometimes-impenetrable memory. I pour the steaming water over the Earl Grey tea bag. I try to distract myself with my cat and the tea, but I know that the trigger has been pulled. I’m going to replay the “incident,” as I’ve come to call it—my mother’s term that I gladly adopted—one more time.

With feeling.

Without Charlene-like exaggeration.

With the knowledge that it shaped the person I am today.

Albert Davis Hodge was his full name, though I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t know people like him inhabit the planet.

He was standing next to his car when I walked toward him. He had a kind face. Glasses. Hair that was neatly combed. Even though the words out of his mouth were completely at odds with the fact that I’d seen his car the day before, I didn’t think of it until later.

“I’m lost,” he said, pointing to a copy of the newspaper he was holding.

I leaned in close to read the address on the classified ad he’d circled. I’d seen my father give directions to a stranger before. It was just a nice thing to do.

“Yeah,” I said, “you’re on the wrong side of town. You need to turn around and go the other way.”

“Crap!” he said. “Excuse my French.”

“No problem,” I told him.

“I’m Al.”

I did think, for just a second, that him saying his name was strange. Why would he introduce himself? I’m on my way to school. I don’t need to know his name. I don’t need to tell him mine.

But I do.

“I’m Lee,” I said.

He went back to the ad and made a perplexed face. “Clear across town? Now I’m really turned around. I’ll never get there.”

He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses on his blue-and-red flannel shirt. Al was older than my brother, Kip, but not much. Maybe twenty. Definitely out of school. He seemed young to have a car like that big blue boat, but I dismissed that too.

“I’m a cat breeder,” he said. “I have a cat they’re going to buy.”

“I like cats,” I said.

“Want to see her?” he asked. “She’s a Persian, with blue eyes.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I know. I should never have leaned in to look. I knew better. I was raised not to get into a stranger’s car. Not to engage with someone you didn’t know. Be polite. Smile. Be respectful. Look them in the eyes. But never let anyone touch you. Or get close enough to hurt you.