Toby felt sick to his stomach. He should have confessed this years ago. Or he shouldn't confess it at all. What if it destroyed everything?

"You remember that day, right? A long time ago? When I fed you?"

Owen curled his hand into a fist and licked the air.

"No, no, not ice cream. I mean way back. Well, maybe your first ice-cream cone was before this, but I mean that time I gave you other food. People food. You know, not food that people eat, but people food. Kids like me. Remember that time?"

Yes.

Toby felt his eyes welling up with tears. "I need to share something with you. You have to promise not to get mad. Do you promise? You sure? You have to promise."

Owen promised.

"When I did that, when I led you to their bodies, I wasn't thinking about you. I was going to blame you for what happened to them." Toby let the tears fall. "I wouldn't do it now. If the police found out, I'd confess everything, I'd let them know that you had nothing to do with their deaths, but at the time I was scared and I didn't know you and I just wanted a way to get rid of them where they wouldn't be discovered."

There was no reaction.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you about this. You may not even understand me. I just-I've felt bad about this for a long time, and I needed to get it off my chest. It was a horrible thing to do. We weren't friends back then, but even so, I would've let them gas you or whatever they would've done. But not anymore. I swear."

Toby bit the inside of his cheek and looked into Owen's eyes. He couldn't always tell what Owen was thinking. Usually he could make a guess, but this time he had absolutely no idea. He didn't know if Owen was ready to wail in misery, bite his face off, or shrug and return to his cave.

"Can I have a hug?" Toby asked.

Owen gave him one.

1972.

"Damn it! You little bastards get out of here!" Toby shouted after the laughing, fleeing kids. He could understand them egging and toilet-papering his house if it were Halloween or April Fools' Day, but it was Lincoln's birthday, for crying out loud!

"Bye, weirdo!" one of them shouted back.

Weirdo. Yeah, that was appropriate, but he wasn't sure how he ended up being treated like a crazy old man. He wasn't even thirty.

One of the kids, Joey, had ridden his bike over a couple of times to talk about baseball. Toby had no interest in or knowledge about baseball, but he faked it. Then the kid's mother had told Joey to stay away from him.

He got a towel from the linen closet and went outside to wipe off his front window. He grimaced at the smell. These eggs had gone bad quite some time ago-you almost had to admire their commitment to keep them around that long.

Almost.

"Little bastards," he muttered under his breath as he wiped away the slime.

"Toby."

"Oh my God! It's your first word!"

CHAPTER T TWELVE.

1973. Age 28.

As Toby lay in bed, the night before his parents were coming to visit for Christmas, he realized that he hadn't seen Larry in over a week.

He didn't see Larry every single day, but in thirteen years he was pretty sure that he'd never gone two consecutive days without a visit. These weren't always the long, nightmare-inducing, sanity-questioning visits-usually he'd think about the horrible act he'd committed, his unforgiving imagination would conjure up an image of the bully (or bullies), and he'd spend a few minutes trying to get rid of them. Sometimes it was just a few seconds. Sometimes it lasted all night. Sometimes he was terrified, sometimes he was disoriented and confused, and sometimes the visions of Larry and Nick made him so angry about the ongoing torment that he wanted to stab them to death again.

But if he remembered correctly, the last time Larry had haunted him was during dinner last Monday. Toby had envisioned poking a fork in his eye and he'd gone away.

Last Tuesday, Toby had met Melissa Tomlinson. Neither Larry nor Nick had returned since then.

This wasn't a coincidence.

Of course, now that he was thinking about the fact that he hadn't thought about Larry, the son of a bitch showed up, but Toby made the image dissipate quickly, before it could even say anything. It was time to get over this crap. Time to move on with his life.

Melissa was his new coworker at the grocery. A cashier. Twenty-three years old. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Perhaps not in a traditional way; in fact, Andrew, one of the baggers, had asked, "Who's the new dog?" Toby had resisted the urge to suffocate him with one of the bags.

Her long, straight black hair was unevenly cut, and she had sort of a crooked smile, but it wasn't like she were missing a nose or anything like that. Not everyone could be on the cover of Playboy. Playboy. As far as Toby was concerned, she was a goddess of beauty. As far as Toby was concerned, she was a goddess of beauty.

It helped that she was nice to him.

She'd never worked a cash register before, and Annette, whom she would be replacing, was immediately exasperated, even though from what Toby could tell she was picking it up quickly. People weren't born born knowing how to use a piece of man-made equipment. Toby wanted to walk over there and tell Annette this, and he almost did, but Melissa seemed to be handling everything fine, and her smile never vanished. knowing how to use a piece of man-made equipment. Toby wanted to walk over there and tell Annette this, and he almost did, but Melissa seemed to be handling everything fine, and her smile never vanished.

Then Mr. Zack asked Toby why he was loitering out here, and he sheepishly returned to the stockroom.

He spent the morning lifting boxes and working up the courage to ask her to sit next to him at lunch. Or the courage to sit next to her, wherever she decided to sit. Either one of those would be fine.

Melissa went home for lunch. Apparently she lived only two blocks from the store.

Toby spent the afternoon mopping floors and trying to decide if he would be risking severe humiliation by asking her to go to a movie with him. Robin Hood Robin Hood was still playing, though he didn't know if she'd want to go see a Disney cartoon. The only other thing playing was was still playing, though he didn't know if she'd want to go see a Disney cartoon. The only other thing playing was Serpico Serpico, which might be kind of violent for her.

His hands were so sweaty that he dropped a box of Tide when he tried to put it on the shelf. Fortunately, Mr. Zack didn't see him.

"Hi," Toby said, walking over to her as their shifts ended. "I'm Toby. Mr. Zack introduced us this morning."

"Yep, I remember." Toby wasn't sure if her smile actually got bigger, but it might have. "What's up?"

"How was your first day?"

She shrugged. "Not too bad. Annette tries to make it a lot more difficult than it really is. I think she's embarrassed by how easy it is. You don't even have to add up the numbers yourself. At least your job requires strength."

Toby grinned. "Well, not that that much strength." much strength."

"More strength than pushing buttons for eight hours." She lifted her hand and stared at it in mock agony. "Oh, my poor, poor, delicate fingers!" She had long fingernails, painted with bright red polish.

"Do you want to go to a movie tonight?" Toby asked. He hadn't planned to just blurt it out like that, but at least he didn't screw up the words. He'd half expected to say something like "Tonight want go movie-thing me come too?"

"Ooooh, I can't tonight."

"No problem."

"I can tomorrow, though, but we have to see Sleeper. Sleeper. Have you heard of that?" Have you heard of that?"

"No."

"It's about a guy who wakes up in the future. It's a comedy, though. It looks hilarious."

"I didn't know it was even playing."

"It's not in Orange Leaf. We'd have to drive about forty-five minutes. Is that okay?"

"Of course!"

"How about we leave right after work? I'll drive."

"I've got a car."

"Yeah, but I'll drive. Are we set?"

"Definitely."

Toby went out and bought a new shirt and jeans for the date. He pretty much only wore the same five shirts, so everybody at work would know that he'd bought something special just for this occasion, but he didn't care. He didn't have any reason to downplay his excitement.

"Nice shirt," said Annette. "You look good in green."

"I should let you know that I investigated you," said Melissa, as she pulled out of the grocery store parking lot. She was dressed simply-faded jeans and a yellow T-shirt-and Toby had never seen anything more radiant.

"You did?"

She nodded. "I just asked people around work if you were safe. Apparently you're extremely quiet and keep to yourself most of the time."

"That's probably accurate."

"Except Mr. Zack said that you can be a smart-ass."

"That's probably accurate, too."

"And everybody was surprised that you asked me out."

"I was kind of surprised, too."

"I'm glad you did. I really want to see this movie and I didn't want to go by myself. And I promise that I'm not a serial killer if you promise that you're not one."

"I promise."

"And I'm not a political activist or a religious nut."

"Neither am I."

"Good. So we're not serial killers, political activists, or religious nuts. I think we'll at least be able to make it through the trailers without any problems."

They talked and laughed all the way to the movie theater. Owen was his best friend and that would never change, but it was so so nice to have an extended conversation with somebody he could fully communicate with. This was natural. This was right. nice to have an extended conversation with somebody he could fully communicate with. This was natural. This was right.

Sleeper was the funniest movie Toby had ever seen in his life. He laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks. They shared a popcorn and a package of red licorice, but they were still hungry when the movie ended, so they went to get a burger and fries. They laughed some more and quoted their favorite lines from the movie, over and over. was the funniest movie Toby had ever seen in his life. He laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks. They shared a popcorn and a package of red licorice, but they were still hungry when the movie ended, so they went to get a burger and fries. They laughed some more and quoted their favorite lines from the movie, over and over.

Toby didn't know what being in love felt like, and to be honest he thought that it probably involved a more dramatic shift in his outlook on life than what he was currently feeling. Still, there was no question that he really, really really liked Melissa. Maybe more than he liked anybody besides Owen. liked Melissa. Maybe more than he liked anybody besides Owen.

Right now, she was his favorite human being.

They got back into her car. She didn't start the engine. She looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "Do you get high?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, though he didn't.

"Do you have anything with you?"

"No."

"I've just got some weed. Wanna go somewhere?"

Toby felt himself begin to perspire and hoped that she didn't notice. Yeah, he wanted to "go somewhere" with her, but not to do drugs. How was he supposed to explain this? Sorry, Melissa, I appreciate the offer, but I have these disturbing images in my brain that I can't always control, and if I try a mind-altering substance I have no idea what I'll see or say. Sorry, Melissa, I appreciate the offer, but I have these disturbing images in my brain that I can't always control, and if I try a mind-altering substance I have no idea what I'll see or say. He'd kept his secret too long to risk sharing it while he was stoned. He could just imagine himself, rolling around in a giggling fit: " He'd kept his secret too long to risk sharing it while he was stoned. He could just imagine himself, rolling around in a giggling fit: "And then I cut off their fingers! It was the funniest thing I've ever done!"

"I can't."