" Thanks for asking first," I said sourly, but knew that I would give in. Even if I dreaded spending several days with Adam, it was a favor for Doug, and I'd have felt like a dick for turning him down. So I said yes, and Doug said, "Great. Can I tell him you'll meet him at the bus station." Sure. He still look the same? He hasn't gone goth or emo, has he?"Doug laughed. "No, no. He's kind of a nerdy jock. Swim team and math club. Still looks the same, but a lot taller."Well, that sounded better, I thought. Nerds I could deal with. I was, after all, doing grad school, which most teenagers would find baffling. So Doug told me the day and time he'd be arriving, and I wrote it on my calendar.Seeing as how you probably have an idea of where this story is going, perhaps I should give you some personal background. At the time of this story, I was twenty-eight, in the midst of a doctorate at a university in a small university town. I was pretty good-looking and fit at the time (I'm still. She had never trusted the old man and his claims aboutmagic. She had felt something else was at the core of his insistence.But how could she have known that something like this would happen. She kept trying to send her mind backward in time, to grasp the momentof decision and change it, to warn herself as Tim to run, to throw themask in the trash compactor, to slam it onto Ben's face instead and holdhim hostage for a while. With each passing second she could feelherself floating further from that moment in time, a drift on a raftchristened Kimberly.Surly something like this had to have some sort of safety control to it.Some sort of dead-man switch in case the engineer died of a heart attackwith the throttle open. If Ben wasn't around or, as Ben claimed now,what if he lost control over the mask? That couldn't mean that she wassimply trapped would it? Nothing that dangerous could be sold to thegeneral public. There were regulations, safeguards, there was the GoodHousekeeping.
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