"Marcie, what's with you?" Carla asked me. "You're so calm. It's kinda spooky. Are you on something?"

Cory walked by our lunch table. He gave me a funny look, then he smiled at Eden. She smiled back at him.

"Pretty soon the monitor's going to make him sit at Jerry and Pat's table," Carla commented. Eden reddened.

"Are you and Cory an item?" I asked.

"We talk," Eden said, with a little smile. "I don't have a lot of time right now, though, what with the Bye Bye Birdie rehearsals. But we talk."

"What was the weird look he gave me?" I asked her.

"He wants to ask you something," she said, and gave me a mysterious look. "But don't ask me what it is, because I won't tell you."

Somehow I didn't feel like wheedling the answer out of her. I wasn't tired. It's just that... not knowing didn't bother me. I felt... serene, I guess. Eden would tell me in good time, or Cory would.

"Marcie, what's with you?" Carla asked me. "You're so calm. It's kinda spooky. Are you on something?"

"No," I said, shrugging.

"I hope it wears off soon," she continued. "I'm waiting for your next escapade."

"Escapade?" Eden laughed. "Her next adventure. Oh!" she said, suddenly realizing. "We're like the girls in Nancy Drew! Marcie is Nancy, you're George, and I'm Bess — except that I'm not fat like Bess. And Jerry is whats-his-name, uh, Nancy's boyfriend..."

"Ned Nickerson," I supplied.

"Yes! And your Aunt Jane is Hannah whatever–"

"Hannah Gruen," I said. "But Aunt Jane is a nurse, not a housekeeper–"

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down there, girly girls!" Carla said.

"Sorry," I told her. "I just read a couple Nancy Drew books, so it's all fresh in my mind."

"Those are for little girls," she said.

"I know," I said, blushing. "But I never read them before."

"You've gotta get off that junk," Carla told me. "It's bad for your brain!"

Eden giggled.

... or did she? I looked at Eden's face and heard her giggle a second time, but she wasn't laughing. "What the –?" I asked.

Eden gestured behind her to Cory, who was answering his cell phone.

"That's Cory's ring tone," she said.

"Your giggle is Cory's ring tone?" I asked, eyebrows high.

Mrs. Auburn had asked me to pick up Nina after school. "Jerry and Cassie are busy," she said, "and I'll pay you, but don't let Nina know you're babysitting, okay?"

Tierson Elementary was a fifteen-minute walk, so I couldn't get there just when school ended, but Nina was going to wait for me. Eden came along so she could talk about Cory. We walked as quickly as we could. "I don't want her just hanging out in front of the school," I explained.

When we arrived, Nina was looking suspiciously at a car parked nearby, and was obviously relieved to see me.

"Hi," she said. "There's a weird guy hanging around. He came over to talk to me, so I backed up toward the school door, until he gave up. I just wish that he'd go away."

There was only one other little girl waiting. I asked, "Nina, do you know her?" Nina shook her head. "Let's wait until someone comes to pick her up."

Nina was clutching a notebook and a pen with a big pom-pom on the end. I said, "Nina, will you write down the number of his license plate? Just in case?" She scribbled it down. I took out my cell phone and set my purse on the ground.

Eden looked worried. "The guy is talking to that little girl," she observed.

I turned to look. The man had opened the back door of the car, and gestured to the girl. She shook her head no. Swiftly, he scooped her up and jumped into the car. The car took off.

It was as if an electric shock ran through my entire body. I grabbed Nina by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Stay with Eden," I told her. I thrust my cell phone into Eden's hands and said, "Call 911. Take Nina to your house. I'll meet you there." Then I turned and ran.

The car took a left at the corner. I cut across the park, aiming to meet the car before it hit the next intersection. I was running faster than I ever ran in my life. The distance wasn't far, and I caught up with the car as it paused at the stop sign. I wanted to shout, "Stop!" or something, but didn't have the breath. I put my left hand on the frame of the driver's window and looked the driver in the face.

"Get the hell out of here!" the man in the back seat yelled. I don't know if that was directed at me or the driver, but the driver hit the gas. The girl in the back seat yelled, "Help me! PLEASE!"

I don't know how or when or why I did it, but with my right hand I grabbed the roof rack, and kicked my right foot up. My heel got stuck in the rack, so I couldn't have let go if I wanted to. I hooked my left leg on the side of the car as well as I could, and hung on for dear life.

I was on there pretty well, but if my hands slipped or lost their grip, I'd hang by my heel and my head would hit the road, so believe me, I didn't let go.

The driver panicked and started speeding up and braking hard to try to shake me off. He took some fast right turns, but I clung like a barnacle. The man in the back seat kept shouting, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.

The wind stung my eyes, and my hands started to hurt. I felt like an animal, fighting for survival. I couldn't think or do anything but hang on tight and not let go.

At the same time, I saw the faces of the two men and the little girl, like close-ups. I could see every emotion, every feeling and thought that went through them. The car was going fast, but time was moving slowly — incredibly slowly. I wondered whether I was going to die or be badly hurt. I knew I couldn't let go... not just for myself, but for the little girl.

I don't know how long it went on or how far we drove, but it seemed like an eternity. The girl kept crying, and the man kept shouting. I could see the driver's face, desperate with fear. Finally, I heard the whoop, whoop of a police siren, and the car stopped.

The policeman had to lift me up so I could unhook my heel from the roof rack. The entire time the man in the back seat was accusing me of everything he could think of, from vandalism to attempted carjacking. He said I had a weapon, a gun or a knife, that I must have dropped on the road.

The policeman didn't say anything. He calmly held me and helped me until I had both feet on the ground. He asked if I was okay, and when I nodded, he gave me a wink. I leaned against the back of the car as my chest heaved. I needed to catch my breath.

The policeman, with the same calm manner, asked the driver for his license and registration. The driver fumbled for it. I was about to turn to look at the girl, when–

Suddenly, and frighteningly, a second police car pulled up and stationed itself in front of the car. The policeman near me unsnapped his holster and put his hand on his gun. "Keep your hands where I can see them," he said to the men in the car.

To me, he said, "Go to the police car," and gestured with his head.

"I can't walk," I replied. My legs were wobbling so hard, I thought I was going to fall down.

The policeman pulled out his gun and said to the men, "Turn off the engine and step out of the car." Two more policemen came up to the bad guys' car. One pulled out the man from the back seat and bent him over the trunk of the car. The other moved me aside and helped the little girl from the car. I slid down to the ground and started crying.