"Thanks for picking me up, Izzy," Kelly said as Izzy unlocked the apartment door. She looked up sheepishly at her friend.

"Hey, it's no problem," Izzy swung the door open and smiled as Art came trotting up to her. "You can stay here as long as you need to, if you don't mind the cat hair."

"Izzy, I'm not going back to him this time."

"Yeah, well, I'll believe that when I see it." Izzy tossed her overstuffed handbag carelessly on the floor inside. Kelly followed her meekly.

The cat galloped across the room and leaped up on top of the TV. His fluffy red tail draped across the screen, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. He glared at Kelly with huge, black eyes, his ears turned back on the top of his head like an owl's.

"No, really..." Kelly began. She looked over at her friend. Izzy was standing in the window, gazing out at the dark street below, arms folded. "It's over between us. I mean it. What's the matter?"

Izzy shook her head and sighed. "Kelly, I don't know. This is a bad situation. You've said before that you were going to leave this idiot."

"I know, but this time It's different."

"It's always different!" Izzy snapped, turning to face her. She pulled herself up to her full towering height, hard and straight. Her dark eyes flashed. "Kelly, you need to get your shit together. I'm getting sick and tired of this!"

"YOU'RE tired of it?" Kelly flared. She clasped her hands together, clenching them doubled like a knotted rope. "YOU'RE tired of this? You're not the one who's been living this for the last few years! You're not the one who wakes up in fear, and lives and breathes It every day, and has to put on a brave face at work just to get through the day! You're not the one who can barely hold a pen in your hand because your arms are so stiff from the bruises. You're not the one taking aspirin every hour for back pain from being thrown against walls. You don't have to wear heavy makeup so nobody sees the marks on your face. You're not in therapy. And you're not the one who hates yourself for putting up with it all this time!"

She suddenly realized that she was pacing back and forth, feet stomping on the hardwood floor. She looked up at Izzy, whose face had now softened, eyebrows curved up sadly.

"Don't look at me like that, dammit!" Kelly said. "I don't want your pity! I don't want anyone's pity!"

"Well, just what do you want?"

"I want to wake up in the mornings and look forward to the day ahead. I want to move on with my life. IIzzy, have I ever asked you for anything before?"

"No," Izzy smiled. She had never seen Kelly like this before; angry, cursing, with an honesty suddenly stripped of the veil of wisecracks. She liked it. She especially liked the intimation of future possibilities. She began to think that maybe, just maybe, hope was beginning to glimmer in her friend's mind.

"Okay," she said. "What can I do to help you?"

Kelly hesitated, and then said, "Well, just let me stay with you a few weeks? Help me get my stuff out of the duplex?"

"You've got it!" Izzy was beaming now. "I thought you'd never ask!"

"And another thing," Kelly said. "Do you still want to sell that car?"

***

"I left him," Kelly said triumphantly, settling back into the soft armchair.

"Oh?" Sharon said, looking up suddenly. Kelly derived an undeniable satisfaction from the look of surprise on her face. "How did this happen?"

"Well, yesterday, Izzy and I took the afternoon off. We rented a U-haul and went to our -- I mean HIS -- place in Nederland. I got all my stuff; including my bed! It was great! He came home from work last night and found an empty warehouse!" She laughed happily.

"And where are you staying now?" Sharon was cautious. She knew that when women left an abusive relationship, they didn't usually stay away. Still leaving -- even for just the first time -- was a big step.

"I'm staying with Izzy," Kelly said.

"How are things there?"

"Great! Izzy is the best. She is the greatest friend anyone could have."

"Well," Sharon said. "That's wonderful. I'm proud of you. It takes a lot of courage to do what you've done."

"It was pretty cowardly, actually, sneaking in there when nobody was home!" Kelly laughed again.

"Tell me something, Kelly. I'm really curious. What made you decide to do it?"

Kelly. hesitated. She couldn't tell Sharon that Joe had stolen her pictures of the pod. Sharon didn't know about the pod. She thought back, reflecting on the events that had transpired that day. "Well, I'm not sure, really. I think part of It was because of the med student who took my stitches out."

"Really? Did he say something?"

"No. But, well, he was really good looking, paid attention to me. Izzy said he liked me. I realized that, you know, there are other men in the world besides Joe."

Sharon smiled. "Do you find that encouraging?"

"Sort of. But then Izzy got mad because I said all men were pigs."

"Do you believe that?"

"That's what Izzy asked me! Of course I believe it, to an extent."

"Well," Sharon said. "They're not."

"Oh, no?"

"No. It doesn't surprise me that you feel that way. It may take you some time to get over that idea. It would help if you could get to know some decent men in the meantime. Not that you necessarily have to start dating again, or anything. Maybe just get reacquainted with people you can be friends with."

Kelly paused a moment, then said, "You know what? Joe actually had the nerve to call me at work today, and beg me to come back to him!"

"Oh, really. What did you say?"

"I shouldn't repeat It," Kelly said, her voice taking on a mock serious tone, nodding her head and scowling for emphasis.

Sharon chuckled, but then said, "You know, it's probably best not to even talk to him. You don't want to provoke him."

"I guess. Actually though, I wanted to ask you about something."

"What's that?"

"Well, the thing is, I want to sue him."

"You want to sue him? For assault?" Sharon looked skeptical.

"I think I have a pretty good case, don't you? I've been thinking about seeing a dentist. He's broken some of my bottom teeth, and I have TMJ Syndrome now."

"What is that?"

"TMJ stands for Temporal Mandibular Joint. It's my jaw. When I open my mouth wide, it clicks, and sometimes it's painful. It got screwed up the last time he hit me In the face," Kelly pointed to a spot in front of her ear.

"It sounds like you've had it diagnosed already."

"No, I diagnosed it myself. With the job I do, I get a lot of calls from people with the same problem. Of course, we're not allowed to diagnose callers. But, I know this is what I have."

"I see."

"So what do you think?"

"About sueing him?"

"Yes. I want him to pay for the surgery."

"I understand your anger, but, Kelly, I wouldn't pursue It any further."

"Why not?" Kelly was surprised. "Izzy thought it was a good idea."

"It's just a way of holding on."

"But," Kelly said, "He won't suffer any repercussions for what he's done! He won't learn anything! What about the next girl whose life he tries to ruin? I can't just let him get away with everything!"

"You haven't," Sharon said. "He's lost you. That's his punishment. It's not your responsibility to worry about the next girl."

Kelly was silent, looking at her.

"It's just a way of holding on," Sharon said again.

***

"Dammit, Joe, quit calling me!" Kelly said. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I can't help myselfl," the voice was whiny pleading. "I haven't seen you in days! I miss you, Babe! Oops - sorry - I know you don't like it when I call you that. Please, Kelly. Come home. I promise things will be different from now on. I love you."

"You have a funny way of showing It! " Kelly snarled. She looked across the aisle at Isabel, who was staring intently into her computer screen.

"I know." A smothered sob crackled over the line. Kelly rolled her eyes. "Well, listen. Can't we at least be friends?"

"No! I'm not friends with people like you. My friends are good people."

"You mean I can't talk to you any more?"

"That's right, Einstein," she said.

"But, I'll always think and wonder about you. I want to know what happens to you."

"Well, think and wonder then, but don't bother me any more. That's the price you're going to pay for the way you have treated me. And I'm warning you, I've already put the word out to management in this place. If anybody sees you skulking around here, they'll call the cops."

The mention of police seemed to sober him. "Okay," he said. "I guess I deserve this."

"Don't play humble with me! You're damn right you do! Really, you deserve worse!"

"Goodbye, Kelly," he said sadly.

She hung up and turned to see Isabel watching her.

"You okay?" Izzy asked.

Kelly took her headphones off and paused to assess the question. She could feel her heart banging In her chest. "I'm great, actually! I've got a little adrenaline rush going here."

"Kelly, remember what Sharon said. Don't take his calls anymore. He's not going to leave you alone."

"I know. He dials in and they patch him through."

"Disconnect him next time. Any contact with you constitutes a reward for him."

"I know you're right." Kelly sighed. "I'm still so angry. I guess I have to let it go."

Izzy smiled. "Einstein?"

"I didn't know you heard that!"

They laughed, and then Kelly said, "You know, I don't understand why he put up with that. He should have just hung upon me."

"Of course you understand it," Isabel said.

"I do?"

"Yeah. You better than anyone else I know."

"Oh." Kelly hesitated. "Yeah, you're right, I do."

"Hey, chalk It up to a learning experience," Izzy said.

"Well, it was one I could have done without."

"You know, Kelly, there's a lot to be said for learning experiences. I've found that even the worst experiences in life, if you learn something, are valuable later on. They build character."

Kelly smiled, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Izzy, do you believe in God?"

Izzy laughed. "Where did that come from?"

"You just mentioned God. I've been thinking a lot about God lately. You seem like somebody who would believe in God."

"Why is that?" Izzy asked.

"I don't know. You're sort of spiritual, I guess."

Izzy shrugged. "Well, sorry to shoot you down, but..."

"You mean, you don't believe in God?"

"Nope."

"How come?"

Izzy sighed. "Well, it's pretty simple, really. I have thought a lot about it. Anyway, It seems to me that any God who really cared about the world would not allow good people to suffer."

"Izzy, that's a cliche' too! Everybody says that!"

"I know. My mother died of pancreatic cancer eight years ago. She suffered. I guess I stopped believing in God about that time."

"Oh." Kelly twirled a pencil nervously in her hand. "I'm really sorry, Iz. I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay. There's nothing to be sorry about. Let's just get back to work."

"Okay." Kelly sat, unmoving, staring unhappily at the floor.

Izzy turned back to her computer, but a moment later swung her chair back around and said impatiently, "What!"

Kelly squirmed. "Well, I don't mean to keep harping on this. It's just that -- oh, I don't know!"

Izzy softened. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I don't like to discuss religion. People are so uptight about It. But just tell me, what do you want to know?"

"Wouldn't you feel better if you thought you could see your mother again?"

Izzy smiled. "Oh, yeah. The Comfort Aspect. I do miss that. Sure, I guess I would get comfort from that thought. But it still wouldn't bring her back, would it?"

"No. I'm not really a religious person. I guess I just like to think that there are reasons for things. I can't explain it."

"It's okay! That's what helps you cope. It's good."

"I guess," Kelly said.

***

Joe Downer hung up the phone and burst into husky, dry sobs. He leaned against the wall, hiding his face against one arm. How could Kelly treat him this way? Hadn^'t he begged her to come back? He had forgiven her, even though she had hit him this time. What the hell did she want, anyway?

He sniffed, wiped his arm against his nose, and sighed. He looked around self-consciously, almost as if he was afraid he had been seen.

"Well, buddy," he told himself. "You have now gone about as low as you can sink."

He had never pictured himself crawling to a woman. A woman! What was it with women? They were such bitches! They were like foreigners to him; they had an entirely different way of thinking. They were power mongers. They just wanted to put men down constantly. He never could figure out why, unless it was because they knew they were the weaker sex, and had to compensate for it.

When it came to women, his own mother had taught him all he needed to know. She was the Bitch of the Universe. For years Joe had called her by her first name; Julie. He felt that she had not earned the title, "Mom¹'.

She had dumped his dad, for no reason; just left him cold, when Joe was twelve. Then she had tried to tear the whole family apart by telling the three boys that they had their choice about who to live with. But, they had outsmarted her. The men stuck together. One by one, each brother had said, "Dad."

It had been unanimous. She had started to cry, right there in front of them. It was a woman's trick; the ultimate manipulation. But, it hadn't worked this time. The boys had been firm with her. Hell, they had to be.

She had gone off and within two years she had remarried. What a slap in the old man's face. But, he had accepted it. Joe respected how his father had maintained such class. Dad rarely spoke of Julie any more. He was a strong leader, a very serious kind of man. He didn't like to be bothered with trivial things, and that was what Julie's new marriage was. A trivial thing.

The boys all hated Jerry, her new man. He was tall, with big buck teeth and a receding hairline. He was a big suck-up, too. He made money and he was always giving her jewelry, and flowers and shit. What a loser.

Now Julie had horses. She lived south of Denver, in the country, and she had four horses and she rode them every day. She took lessons and competed in jumping contests. She hung out with big shots now. Joe had been to one event that his mother had helped to organize. He remembered seeing her talking and laughing with her new friends; the rich bitches in their jodhpurs and boots, all smelling of peffume and leather.

His mother was obsessed with this lifestyle. She had gradually stopped calling her sons. Their dinner gatherings had dwindled to holiday weekends. She was too good for them now. Finally, one Thanksgiving, listening to her jabber on over the turkey as if nothing was wrong, Joe couldn't take any more. He had jumped to his feet and slammed his fist down on the table. He had screamed, "I'm sick of hearing about the horses! We all know that you care more about the stinking horses than you do your own family!"

His mother had quietly started to cry.

Joe thought, with a twinge of pride, that he had always been good at making his mother cry.

He was good at making his girlfriend cry, too. She was easy; even easier than his mother. She was a wimp. A wimp with a mulish stubborn streak. He didn't know why he loved her. Sometimes he really wondered. He had an uncomfortable feeling that she thought she was smarter than he was. That was a joke; a woman, smarter than a man! He remembered telling her once that education wasn't everything. That had put her in her place.

She was so ungrateful! She was no fun, either. She never took drugs; never seemed to loosen up. She was totally anti­social; she hated parties. She was always sulking about something. She wasn't particularly good in bed. He'd like to have seen a little more enthusiasm.

But he did love her. Maybe it was the way her hair smelled. Or that cute little dimple in the side of her face. Who could explain love, anyway?

His brothers liked her, in spite of her odd behavior. They thought she was funny. Dammit, how was he going to explain this to them? What would they say when they found out she had left him? It was so embarrassing!

He briefly considered telling them he had kicked her out. But, he knew he couldn't lie to his brothers. It wouldn't be right.

Joe paced around the living room and paused at the big picture window looking out at the lake. He turned suddenly and walked out the door.

He climbed into the waiting pickup, started it up, and turned toward the canyon road. "If I could just see her one more time," he muttered to himself. "If she sees me, she won't be able to say no."

He roared down the hill and followed the winding road, carefully slowing before each sharp curve. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noticed a black Cadillac following him. He instinctively hit the gas, trying to widen the gap between them. The car kept pace with him, close to his bumper.

"Stupid goddamn people," he said. "Stupid goddamn canyon!

Along the twisting road the vehicles traveled, bumper to bumper, like one was towing the other. Joe tapped his brake, but the Cadillac's driver seemed oblivious. Finally, they came to a long shoulder on the canyon where the road straightened. "Here's my chance to lose this jerk," Joe slammed his foot into the gas pedal.

The truck lurched forward. He looked Into the mirror, but the car had suddenly pulled up on his left. "Well, you stupid -" He glanced over at the driver, and saw the blurred features of a man looking back at him. Joe held up his middle finger. "Hey, buddy. Sit and spin!"

The cadillac plunged across the center line toward him. "Hey!" he yelled.

His head smacked into the window as the car slammed into the side of his pickup. He regained his balance in the seat and looked over at the Cadillac again. "You stupid son of a bitch!" he yelled.

He slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded along just ahead of his left front fender. Incredulously, he watched as the car again lurched toward him. Joe held his breath and prepared himself for impact. Again, the car slammed into his truck. The truck was forced onto the narrow shoulder of the road, spraying gravel into the air. The side rail screamed as the truck bounced against it.

"Shit!" His heart was pounding; he began to taste fear. The car, now scarred with signs of impact, was again hovering on his left side. As he wondered whether he should stop or try to outrun it, he was hit again.

The guard rail gave way and he was suddenly gripping the steering wheel fiercely as the truck plunged over the edge. He screamed as his stomach seemed to leap into his throat, and rocks, trees and sky whirled around him. The last thing he saw was the ground coming up through the windshield.

***

"That waitress is pissing me off. She's rude. Very unprofessional," Isabel stabbed a piece of fish with her fork. "If she comes back here one more time, and asks if everything's okay, I'm going to slap her. Do you know how many times she has asked us that?"

Kelly shook her head absently.

"Three! Three times, Kelly! My god, she must not have any other tables! Look at this place. I mean; we have music, candles. This Is supposed to be a fine restaurant, not a day care center!"

Kelly made no reply.

"Are you okay?" Izzy said.

"I'm fine. Well, actually, I'm a little shook up. You know, Izzy, it's weird," Kelly picked up her wine glass with a trembling hand, and took a sip. "I hated him. I mean, I actually grew to hate that man. But -" she stifled a sob.

"I know. You didn't want him dead, for God's sake!" Isabel leaned across the table to squeeze her friend's shoulder.

"No, Izzy, I did! I literally prayed that he would die." Kelly lifted her napkin to her face and dabbed at her wet cheeks.

"Well, who could blame you? He beat you up. He was a bastard. He had almost no redeeming qualities. No looks, no brains, no talents. He was a waste of DNA. Let's face it."

Kelly took a deep, shaky breath. "It's weird though. I've never known anyone before who has died, let alone somebody I've slept with. It's really bizarre."

"You're not blaming yourself for this, are you?"

"I don't know. I did wish he was dead. What If I, like, put a curse on him or something?"

"Kelly. this accident had nothing to do with you. He was a druggie. They found cocaine In his car. He was probably high, and just tried to take that corner too fast."

"Yeah, that's the other thing. Where did he get the money for all that cocaine? There was a lot. Joe's always broke between paychecks. Or, rather, he WAS always broke."

"You know what I thInk?"

"What?"

"I think he was selling drugs on the side, and that's how he got all the money."

"Well, maybe. But I never saw him selling drugs."

"Of course not. He wouldn't do it in front of-"

"How are we doing here, ladies? Need anything?" a voice interrupted. They looked up to see the waitress beaming down at them.

Izzy let her fork fall to her plate with a loud clatter. "I don't believe this!"

"It's fine," Kelly said. "Just fine. Really. Thank you." The waitress walked away.

Izzy shook her head, sighed and picked up her fork. "Anyway, what's the story with his family? Why did the police call you when they found him?"

"They found my business card in his wallet. He has family in the Springs, but he didn't have any other information on him. Just my business card. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah. That is weird."

Kelly stared off into space, remembering a conversation. "Sharon told me that when a guy beats you up, he tries to separate you from the rest of the world. He breaks off all your ties to other people. Like, you don't see your family as much, and you lose touch with all your friends. He comes between you."

"Is that what Joe did to you?"

"Well, I didn't see it happening at the time. But, you know, it seemed like I had more of a social life before we moved in together. And he certainly didn't like you!"

Izzy bristled, stabbing at the fish on her plate. "Well. The feeling was entirely mutual!"

"Well, anyway, I was just wondering if - you know - Joe sort of separated himself from other people, too," Kelly said.

"I guess It's possible."

Kelly sniffed, and said, "Good grief, it seems like I'm always crying these days. I'm sick of it!"

"It's okay. It's good for you."

Kelly looked at, her friend enviously. "You're so strong, Izzy. You don't ever cry, do you?"

"I don't cry too much," Izzy admitted. "But that doesn't make me strong. You're just as strong as I am."

"I wish!"

"Did he look -- really bad?" Izzy ventured, in almost a whisper.

"They had cleaned him up by the time I got there. I just saw his face. It was pretty bashed up. He was killed instantly, they said."

"Justice is served," Izzy muttered. She stabbed viciously at a piece of fish and put it into her mouth. Just then, her plate, complete with vegetables and remnants of fish, was snatched from the table in front of her.

"I'll just clear this away for you," the waitress said cheerfully.

Izzy glared at her, and the waitress hesitated, holding the plate and said, "You were finished with this, weren't you? It's okay if l take it?"

Izzy reached into her mouth, pulled out the last bite of fish, and laid it delicately on the plate. "Yes, please. Don't let my meal interrupt your work day."

The waitress opened her mouth as if to say something, but thought better of It and walked away. Izzy smiled sweetly while Kelly covered her face with both hands and burst out laughing.