Prologue

"Look, John," Amanda Petes told her husband, glancing at him in tired exasperation, "you've got to take Amy to her track practice this week, I've got a presentation on Thursday that I need to give. I took her yesterday, and I also took her to the dance practice on Monday."

John grunted unhappily, but Amanda knew he'd do what was needed. Their daughter, Amy, pretended they weren't in the car, dismissing their presence as only a teenager can do to her parents. She was always more difficult when they brought her back from her father's, and when she gave him attitude, John tended to stop speaking to her, so Amanda was left holding the conversation on her own.

Amanda was about to discuss Amy's weekend plans—like most teenagers, she had a busy schedule and expected her parents to ferry her everywhere she needed to go—but Amanda lost her focus as her mind began to wander.

There was something happening. She didn't know what it was, but something was different. And it wasn't just odd, she felt that it was something that she needed to be aware of, something important. She glanced at the cars beside her, then by the side of the road but couldn't notice anything unusual, but she couldn't shake this feeling she had. Then, somehow, her eyes were drawn to the car ahead of them.

It was a non-descript white 4-door passenger vehicle, definitely several years old though it looked well cared for. There was nothing special about it, but she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and she couldn't figure out why. No matter what John or Amy said or asked her, her eyes kept being drawn back to it, checking it out. There was no accounting for why it would captivate her so, but there was just something about it that wouldn't leave her alone.

Amanda wanted to tell her husband to edge closer to the car, but didn't know how to ask him, since it would involve having to explain herself, which she couldn't do at the moment.

As traffic eased John eased their van into the faster left-hand lane, and she could now see a little more of the vehicle in question. It seemed to be a family of four with two adults in the front and two young adults or teenagers in the back.

She was busy trying to pick out every detail of the car, trying to figure out what was so special about it, when she realized it wasn't the car that was so special; it was the young man on the far side, someone she could barely make out. It fact, she wasn't even sure it was a young man; just that he/she seemed to be young. Amanda wondered what it was about the person that kept...

"Are you even paying attention, Mom?" Amy demanded from the back seat, breaking Amanda's train of thought.

"Huh, what?" she asked, shifting her gaze from the car ahead to glance back at her daughter.

"She's got a point," John told her, "your mind is definitely drifting. What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about the coming week," she lied, trying hard to keep from glancing forward again, yet knowing it was only a matter of time before she would.

Amy leaned forward, closely watching her mother. Amanda tried to ignore the close scrutiny, but she found it disconcerting, and as much as she tried to resist it, she couldn't help but glace over once again, trying to see where the other car was again.

"She keeps looking at that old car ahead of us," Amy announced, confused why her mother—who'd been busy making arrangements for the coming week—had suddenly disappeared into never-never land.

"Is that it Amanda?" Her husband asked. "Is that what keeps distracting you? You do seem to keep staring off in that direction and losing your train of thought."

She resisted the temptation to look again and instead forced herself to focus on her husband.

"No, everything is fine," she insisted, tugging at her sleeve and picking imaginary lint off her blouse in an attempt to distract herself, all the time knowing it was all in vain. The attraction to that car, and the young man in the back seat, was just too strong to be denied for long. And it wasn't long before she found herself glancing there again, still trying to figure out what it was that held her so captivated.

Amy eased forward, leaning between the seats and glanced through the front windshield. "No, she's watching that car. I can see her eyes from back here and she keeps looking at it for some reason."

"Is it someone you know?" her husband asked, confused by her behavior. If it was, he didn't understand why she wouldn't just comment on it. But she was making too much about it for it to just be idle curiosity. There was something going on here, something she clearly didn't want to reveal.

He had no reason to doubt his wife, though she tended to have a million things on her mind all the time, she was usually pretty good about sharing things with him, but he wanted to get to the bottom of this; for his own peace of mind if nothing else.

"No, it's ... damn it, I don't really know what it is. I just can't keep my eyes off of it," she confessed, still feeling the desire to glance up like the call of an old friend, or the desire for one last drag on a cigarette she had hadn't tasted for the last five years. But, just like the cigarette, she knew that as soon as she gave in and took a look, she'd be sucked in and she'd have to quit it all over again, the temptation was just as strong.

"Hey, do I need to be worried about someone else?" John teased, fully confident in the strength of their relationship. When she didn't respond, alarm bells started ringing in his head. Taking his eyes off the road, he glanced over and and saw an anxious look in her eyes, and a clearly guilty look about her.

"No, it's nothing like that," Amanda assured him. "I can't really explain it, but there's something about one of the people in the car that just keeps attracting me to it; like it has my attention on a string and they keep pulling it, teasing me with it."

"Really, I can't possibly see why," Amy responded dismissively, glancing out the front window at the unimpressive car. It wasn't worth much, the people inside weren't very well dressed or refined, and they clearly weren't famous, because face it, no one who could afford it would drive a depressing vehicle like that! It was just some ordinary family driving somewhere, certainly no one she'd ever be concerned with, she concluded with a disapproving roll of her eyes.

"Do you want me to get closer so you can have a look?" John asked, honestly curious what this fascination was. She didn't seem like she lying about anything, so he still didn't suspect a secret boyfriend, but the occupants of the car held some fascination for her, and he wouldn't know if it was something to be concerned with until he could determine what it was.

Amanda thought that offer was particularly understanding of him, since she couldn't even tell him why she was interested. She glanced out her window one more time, still unable to identify what it was that kept pulling her, but now sure it was that figure in the back seat.

"Could you? I don't have any idea why it seems important, but I just want to see whoever it is," she struggled to explain. So John maneuvered the car around and pulled even with the car on their right, giving Amanda a perfect view of the young girl and her mother, but only a partial view of the young man in the back. However, it was the closest they could manage. They were at least close enough that Amanda could finally identify the figure as a young man. The young girl turned, saw them looking and awkwardly waved. Amanda felt her face flush in embarrassment. Amy waved back, although Amanda had no idea how to respond, feeling like an idiot, staring at a bunch of strangers for no discernable reason.

Seeing they'd been caught, John pulled away, figuring the game was up. "Well, does that help explain anything?" he asked.

"Nope, all I know is that he's worth noting for some reason, but I have no clue why."

"Well, I'm sorry, but this is our exit, so we can't stay and investigate any more," John informed her as he began moving into the exit lane. He watched his wife turn, tracing the motions of the other car even when she had to twist her body to see around obstructions. They'd have to talk about this, as now his curiosity was piqued, and he was dying to know what was going on.

But as they exited the highway, Amanda watched the car speed past them, the object of her interest never once even looking up. She knew she'd never see either the car or the strange man again, and she wondered just what she was missing. But she knew, even without an explanation, she'd remember this little non-event for a long, long time, always feeling regret at what she'd missed, whatever it might have been.

Susan Baker was way behind schedule. She'd allotted herself so many miles per day and felt she had to get them in, whether that meant driving later than she should or not. It was a peculiarity of hers that once she set herself a goal, she wanted to meet it, even when circumstances didn't necessarily justify it. But this was important to her, and she thought it was worth the extra effort.

She had been pushing hard on the Interstate and wanted to be done, but she knew she still had a ways to go before she could quit for the day. Still, she'd been driving for too long and knew she needed a break, so started looking for the next exit, wanting a chance to get out, stretch and unwind. She'd been in the car for hours now, and she was tired, her eyes were getting blurry, her butt was falling asleep, and she really needed to pee.

Susan had a new job waiting for her in Texas and she was relocating there from Georgia. It was a long drive for her, made even longer by the car full of shit she had to carry. All her earthly possessions, as few as they were, were tightly packed behind her with nary an empty space to hide the trash accumulating on the floor beside her. Still, she knew she'd appreciate having some familiar things from her past as she began a new life, so she couldn't complain too much. It would have been easier if she hadn't attempted to complete the trip all at once, but she didn't have the extra funds to waste staying overnight if she could avoid it. But there were still a lot of hours of daylight left, a fact which was helped by the early spring afternoon. Everything seemed brighter, greener and fuller of life than it had for a while. Even as far south as she lived, it was always nice when spring came and the trees came into bloom. It always felt magical to her, especially now when she could stand a little magic in her life. Her life hadn't been going well lately, and she was hoping she could change her luck with this new job, especially since she was leaving so much of what hadn't been working behind her.

She finally saw a sign announcing an exit three miles ahead. She was trying to move over when she felt the oddest sensation. Tilting her head, she considered it. There was something pulling her, something that riveted her attention and compelled her to investigate it. She'd never felt a compulsion like that, especially when there was no sign of anything of interest ahead, but she paid attention to it. Somehow it just felt right, like it was essential she follow her intuition.

Nearing the exit, she somehow knew there was something very important here at this insignificant stop that dwarfed her need to fill up or pee. There was something here that could clearly change her life, and not only that, she could feel a presence that was so important it was likely to affect a great many others as well. There was this impression of 'immenseness', like there was something so major it was like a heavenly body, drawing people and things into it, sucking her into its spinning vortex. She had no idea how she could possibly know this, it made no logical sense of any kind. She just knew that it was true, even without any evidence to support it.

She'd always been good at reading people. Unlike her sister who went after one sweet talking bad boy after another, Susan always managed to find the good, kind men who also proved to be dedicated workers. She'd always told her sister she simply had to watch the person to know what they were really like, but her sister just never got it. Susan herself wasn't sure exactly how she figured it out, as she could never identify what it was about their appearance which told her how they'd behave, but she'd just know by being near someone and watching them whether they were a decent person or a troubled soul or, like most people, they were simply plagued by so much doubt and insecurity that they'd always waffle between the two extremes, never measuring up to much. Her girlfriends teased that if she could only bottle what she seemed to be able to pick up so easily, she could easily retire on the proceeds; selling it to the many desperate women trying to manage the dating scene.

This feeling she was now experiencing was different, however. In judging people, she never knew what it was that was affecting her decision. Now she could feel it, and she felt it in such a way that there was absolutely no doubt about it being a purely physical presence, inasmuch as a feeling can ever be physical, she reminded herself.

As she pulled off at the exit and merged into the local traffic, she ignored the gas stations situated ahead of her, instead trying to identify where this feeling was directing her. She knew it was purely accidental that she'd pulled into this stop, on this route, and at this time. She couldn't risk this odd confluence of odd events would continue working for her. She, like everyone else, liked to believe that God arranged things in her life, except she had to admit that most of the time the good things that happened to you had much more to do with your role in life. Rich white people tended to favor other well-educated Caucasians. She had no illusions that she was any more favored by God than the poor black and Hispanic people around her, but she found herself in a position to be favored more than they ever did, and she also knew it wasn't entirely due to God's individual selections either.

Abandoning that distracting thought, she found it strange, but she knew just where to find the source of the feeling she was following. She wasn't used to following her 'feelings'. In the past, she'd always told herself that her ability to judge people was due to her capacity to somehow read their body language, and that's what she'd always told others. Now she knew better. All she'd had before was a vague feeling and it now had a very real physical presence, one that she could locate and follow. She knew to take the next right and, even as she did, she knew the unknown thing she was following was located in the McDonald's on the corner. She almost felt like she should simply drive over the embankment to get to it, but she knew she'd never be able to do that. She'd have no way to explain what the hell had motivated her if she got caught, but she felt taking the time to make all the appropriate turns was taking way too much time.

How long does it take to make a pit stop in a McDonald's? With luck, whoever or whatever she was following wouldn't be making a quick break. If they had stopped for lunch they wouldn't be likely to stop for more than ten or fifteen minutes. If they stopped for a cup of coffee it would be even less than that. She knew this was such a small opportunity she had been blessed with that she had to ensure she made the best of it.

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