I walk back to Torch, who's casually doing the 25-cent knuckle shuffle. "This is the place I was thinking of," I tell him. "We might as well leave her here. There's the fountain."

He puts down the map and stares out the window, surveying the scene.

Kevin parks the bus, and Torch and I step out. "What do you think?" I ask. "As good a place as any. Someone'll give her a ride."

Torch gazes east into the distant horizon. "Yes, I suppose so. She could take Route 66 through to Chicago. Or maybe Route 666."

"Catch Highway 61 up to Canada," I speculate. "Who knows? The beauty of this spot is she can head in just about any direction. She's been on the road for two years; she might just want to hang out somewhere along the way, huh? Or retire in Florida."

Torch grins. "Roswell or Area 51, perhaps?" he nods his head knowingly. "Did you write the note?"

"Yeah, short and sweet. Wrapped in plastic and tied on tight. Check it out."

I hand her to Torch and he reads the note out loud.

For good luck take me to Niagara Falls, Ontario. But Please—Handle with Care.

"Yeah, handle with care," he smirks and hands her back to me. "Simple enough. I'll miss her, though."

"I'll miss her, too."

Torch drops his quarter into the fountain, and I set her down on the ground next to it. I, too, pull a quarter out and watch it splash down into the dark murky water. "Alright then, we better go. Before people start waking up."