Anita knocked on the door and then rang the doorbell a few times. In my planning stage of this I'd worried obsessively about whether or not the owners of the house would be home before I finally figured out that it really didn't matter. Ideally, they would be gone but if they weren't, the plan would still work. As it turned out, they were gone. Giving up on the doorbell, Anita walked over to the brass lockbox that was attached to the water pipe. She dialed in a combination and opened the box, pulling out a key. With the key, she opened the door. A moment later the both of them stepped inside, closing the door behind them.
My first thoughts that had led to this plan had told me that simply getting Anita and Jack into a house together for twenty to thirty minutes would be enough to push them together. Further reflection upon this, and the consideration that the occupants would be home, therefore breaking the mood, led me to modify that plan somewhat. Just putting them together might not be enough. I had to emmerse them into a situation together. Even that, I reluctantly admitted, might not be enough, but it was better than just throwing them together. An extension to the plan developed. An extension that now needed to be put into effect.
I acted quickly, extricating myself from the bushes and moving west along the perimeter of the park until I was out of view of the house. I crossed the street and began walking along the sidewalk, strolling casually towards the house, doing my best impression of a neighborhood kid out for a walk in the snow. When I reached the driveway, where the two cars were parked, I took a good look around me, searching for any neighbors that happened to be out and paying attention. There were none. It was time.
I dashed between the two cars, both of which were ticking as their engines cooled down, quickly putting myself between the garage door and the front of Anita's Chrysler. A quick look assured me that from here I was unobservable from any angle. I had changed the oil in Anita's car more than ten times, usually as a prelude to sexual activity, and I knew the engine compartment of it well. I knew, for instance, that you did not need to be inside the car in order to open the hood. My hand found the hood release, which was warm, and slowly pulled it until I felt a click.
Carefully, taking another quick glance for unwanted observers, I lifted it, wincing at the squeaking noise it made. When it was about a foot above the engine compartment I peered inside. Though, as I've mentioned before, I am not a mechanical genius, my thirty-four years on two different Earth's had taught me enough to know that an internal combustion engine could be quickly disabled by removing one particular piece of it. I reached in and grasped the coil wire, which led to the distributor cap. Without this wire, electricity could not get to the spark plugs and the cylinders could not fire. I gave a sharp yank and the wire was in my hand. I stuffed it into my jacket pocket and then eased the hood back down, giving it a firm push to latch it and wincing again at the sharp noise that resulted.
One more quick glance around for danger and I dashed back to the sidewalk. I headed back the way I came, crossed the street once again, and moved back into the park. A few minutes after that I was back in the bushes, observing the house. I began to wait.
It was twelve forty-five before they both emerged from the house. In the ensuing fifty minutes I'd seen both of them peer out multiple times, looking for their clients pulling up out front, clients that were figments of my imagination. When they left the house, carefully locking it up and putting the key back in the lock box, they were talking to each other and shrugging.
I wasn't close enough to read their expressions so I could not tell how cozy they'd gotten during the waiting period.
They conversed a moment more and then headed for their respective automobiles. Jack jumped in his first and fired up the engine before Anita was even settled. I had a moment's horror when it looked like he was going to back out and drive away before Anita even had a chance to crank her now-worthless engine. But thankfully, his mother had taught him some manners and he stood by, waiting for her to leave.
From across the street I could hear the grinding of her engine turning over without catching. She would grind it for about ten seconds, let it rest for five, and then grind it again. This went on for about four cycles before the abrupt cut-off of exhaust vapor from Jack's tailpipe signaled that he'd shut down his engine.
He stepped out and walked over to her door. She rolled down the window and a brief conversation ensued. She then opened her door and stepped out, allowing him to sit down in her seat. He cranked the engine a few times himself, as if the mere presence of A MAN behind the key would make it fire up. Finally, when it didn't, he walked around to the front and popped the hood.
The hood obstructed my view of the two of them while they peered inside but it was readily apparent that Jack knew his way around an engine compartment.
It wasn't sixty seconds before he stepped out from behind it, looking nervously around the street, peering up and down it, looking for the culprit that had taken Anita's coil wire. He spoke to her for a moment, pointed into the hood compartment, and then she too began to look around.
They quickly gave up looking for the culprit and turned their attention to looking under and around the vehicle, as if the coil wire could have just fallen off the distributor. When they didn't find it on the ground they searched the hood compartment. When they didn't find it there they began to converse again, this time with much shaking of heads and puzzled glances up and down the street. The conversation continued for a few moments and then Anita smiled at him, obviously thanking him. They walked to his car and he opened the passenger door for her (way to go Jack, I thought happily). She sat down and he walked across to the driver's side. A moment later his car started and they drove off.
Though I didn't know Jack at all, I know what I would have done in such a circumstance. I would have driven her to the nearest auto parts store and bought her a new coil wire, taking it back to the car and making a big show of installing it for her, making it look, of course, more difficult a job than it really was. I would then dramatically sit behind the wheel and fire up the engine, grinning sheepishly at the accomplishment of fixing the car for her. Hell Ma'am, it weren't no trouble at all. Of course she would be grateful to her knight in shining armor. Perhaps they would decide to go to dinner?
As they disappeared from my sight I extricated myself from the bushes and stretched, popping my stiff joints. I shook the accumulation of snow from my clothing and then headed for my car.
"The rest is up to you Jack." I mumbled to myself, smiling as I walked. "Take advantage of Fate."
Overnight the snowstorm we'd been experiencing developed into a full-scale blizzard. The wind tore through the Eastern Washington area, driving the snow before it. When I awoke Thursday morning it was still going strong. A look out my window, at the icy, covered streets, at the snowdrifts more than eight feet high in some places, told me that I would not be going to school that day.
My confirmation of this came when I went downstairs to breakfast and found Dad still in his pajamas and robe, his face unshaven. As a teacher Dad was probably even happier than the students were when they closed school for the day. After all, he still got paid for it. Mom too was lounging around in her pajamas, her work had apparently decided to make it a holiday as well. I was not as happy. That meant there would be no lunch with Nina that day.
"There's lots of good news today." Dad told me as I sat down at the table.
"How's that?" I asked him, digging into the bacon and eggs Mom had prepared in honor of the non-work day.