I slid onto the passenger seat and a sigh escaped. "I know. I just don't want to have to tell anyone I was attacked by a horde of angry little people. A horde of angry elves sounds better, somehow."

A fake elf smashed through the plate-glass door with a fire ax, and Diesel took off.

"Did you see the cookies?" I asked him. "They looked just like Elaine's cookies."

"Honey, all cookies look alike."

"Yes, but they might have been Elaine's cookies."

My cell phone chirped. "I'm at the mall," Valerie said, "and I need help. I can't remember everything that was on Mary Alice's list. I got her the Barbie, the television, the game, and the ice skates. I have the train and the computer at home. Do you remember what else she wanted?"

"How are you going to pay for all that?"

"MasterCard."

"It'll take you five years to pay it off."

"I don't care. It's Christmas. You have to do these things at Christmas."

Oh yeah. I kept forgetting. "Mary Alice had about fifty things on that list. The only one I remember is the pony."

"Omigod," Valerie cried. "The pony! How could I forget the pony?"

"Val, you can't get her a pony. This isn't Little House on the Prairie. We live in Trenton. Kids in Trenton don't get ponies."

"But she wants one. She'll hate me if I don't get her a pony. It'll ruin her Christmas."

Boy, I was really glad I had a hamster. I was planning on giving Rex a raisin for Christmas.

I hung up on Valerie, and I turned to Diesel. "Do you have any kids?"

"No."

"How do you feel about kids?"

"The same way I feel about fake elves. I think they're cute from a distance."

"Suppose you wanted to have kids... could you reproduce?"

Diesel looked over at me. "Could I reproduce? Yeah, I guess I could." He gave his head a shake. "I have to tell you, I am never again going to let anyone pop me in on someone. It's too weird. Not that this was my idea in the first place." He reached across me, into the bag my mother gave us, and found a leftover brownie. "Usually women are asking me to buy them a beer. Not you. You're asking me if I can reproduce."

"Make a turn at Clinton," I told him. "I want to have another chat with Elaine."

It was midafternoon and unusually gloomy when Diesel drove down Grape Street. Dark clouds swirled in the sky, and an eerie green light streaked through them. The air felt heavy and ominously charged. Doomsday air.

Lights were on in houses, and Elaine had her roof lights blazing, blinking out her season's greetings. Diesel parked in front of the house, and we both got out. The wind had picked up, and I pulled my chin in and walked head down to Sandy Claws' front porch.