"Who knows," Michael replied.

"Something must be wrong," Max said with a grave expression on his face.

"No," Liz said. "Nothing's wrong.”

All eyes turned to her, and she said. "I should have thought of this.”

"What?" Max asked.

"There's no way you can use your powers to make gold," she said. The others continued to look at her with confused expressions.

"Look," she continued. "You can use your powers to change the molecular structure of things. You actually move molecules around, right?" she said.

"Yes," Max said, realization dawning on his face. "Mole- cules…”

Liz nodded, and Michael jumped in. "What? What about them? Would Mr. and Mrs. Wizard mind explaining this to the audience at home?" he said.

"Gold is not gold because of its molecular structure," she said. "Gold is gold because of its atomic weight.”

"And we can make something look like gold, but it won't actually be gold," Max said.

"But Max made you that diamond," Maria said.

Liz nodded. It was beautiful and still in her pocket. She and Max had meant to get a setting for it, but had run out of time. "He made it out of charcoal. Both coal and dia- monds are different forms of carbon. They're identical on the atomic level," she said.

Michael nodded and said, in a reasonable tone, "Wait, then, what you're saying is that because of the way our powers work… we're completely screwed and broke!”

"Well, yeah," Liz said.

"Why not make some more diamonds, Max?" Maria asked.

"The only place to sell them in this town would be the pawnshop, and the owner will call the police if we step inside again. And with no transportation, we can't get to the next town," Max said.

"So what now? We're hundreds of miles from home. We can't use a cell phone… or, God forbid, an ATM. The van is busted, and we'll be lucky if we have enough money for a motel room for the night.”

"If we don't spend anything else," Max said.

"Wait a minute, what about food? Buddha's Middle Way requires that I avoid extremes of self-denial," Kyle said.

That's right, the boys haven't eaten, Liz thought. Sud- denly, Liz felt guilty about the food she, Isabel, and Maria had eaten, and the money they had spent.

"There has to be something we can do to make some money," Maria said.

"We could use our powers to rob a bank," Michael said.

All the others shot him a look, and he put his hands up and said, "Kidding.”

"Max?" Liz said.

He shrugged. "I don't have any answers here," he said.

Kyle stepped forward and said, "It's obvious, then.”

"What?" Maria asked.

"We'll have to get jobs to make enough money to fix the van and get out of town," Kyle said.

"In the meantime, we'll have to pay for food and a place to sleep," Liz added.

"Looks like we don't have a choice," Max said.

"You guys have to eat," Liz said. "We have to figure something out.”

Max nodded and said, "After we have a room for the night, we'll see how much we have left.”

Michael and Kyle seemed relieved to hear that. "But first, we need to stop by the garage and make sure they've started on the van.”

Liz nodded and pointed down the street in the direc- tion of the garage. "Gomer said it's Johnny's Garage and is down the street," she said.

"We'll split up. Michael, Kyle, and I will see about the van and see if we can find a room and any work," Max said.

"We can start job hunting in the meantime," Liz said.

"We'd better hurry. It's getting close to five. People are going to start closing up. I don't think this town has much in the way of nightlife," Maria said.

As they approached the garage, Kyle said, "Let me do the talking.”

Max twitched in surprise, but didn't say anything. It took an effort for him not to take charge, Kyle realized. "Garage-mechanic powers, boys," he said.

"Of course," Max said.

"Yeah, we're just mere human-alien hybrids with the ability to transform matter and control incredible ener- gies," Michael said.

Johnny's Garage was at least a hundred yards past the last store on Main Street, an ancient Laundromat. The garage looked just as ancient. It was basically a large barn with sheds jutting haphazardly from the sides. A pair of gas pumps sat in front, and a number of equally old cars were scattered around the place.

The small office was empty, so Kyle led the way into the barn itself. There were four repair bays, three of which were currently occupied by cars that were nearly his age and looked it.

The first bay contained a car over thirty years old. It was a 1968 Thunderbird in mint condition. The hood was down, and Kyle was certain it was the owner's car and had obviously been cared for very well.

Kyle racked his brain for information on that car. It might come in handy.

The shop itself was surprisingly well kept… at least compared with the outside. He had been expecting the place to be littered with junk, but tools and car parts were all pretty much in their place.

And though Johnnys Garage lacked some of the com- puterized diagnostic equipment that Kyle had taken for granted back in Roswell, he doubted that equipment would be necessary in this town, considering the age of the cars he had seen here.

The other remarkable thing about the shop was that it seemed to be empty of people.

"Hello," Kyle called out as they walked toward the back of the barn.

After he repeated himself two more times, someone appeared from under the car in the last bay.

Kyle immediately saw that he was older than Kyle's own father, perhaps by ten years or more. Tall and wiry, the man had hair so gray, it was almost white. It was also long and tied back in a ponytail.

Like virtually everyone they had seen so far in Stonewall, the man eyed them suspiciously.

"Hi," Kyle said.

The man nodded.

"Is this your place?" Kyle asked.

"Yep," the man said.

"So you're Johnny," Kyle said, giving the man a friendly smile.

He shook his head and said simply, "Nope," offering no further explanation. Kyle didn't press the issue.

"That your T-Bird?" Kyle said.

"Yep," the man said.

. "It's nice… you don't see a lot of them on the road," Kyle said, keeping his voice friendly even as he felt the tension from Michael behind him. Buddha taught patience, but Michael was no Buddhist. The man didn't reply. Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere with small talk, Kyle decided to get to business. "Gomer towed our van," Kyle said, gesturing to the van in the second repair bay.

"Won't start," the man said.

"Have you opened it up yet?" Kyle asked "Nope," the man replied.

"Well, I saw that two pistons were out, plus the timing chain, and the starter," Kyle said.

The man's expression changed slightly, and for a moment he looked at Kyle with a flicker of respect. The man approached the van and said, "Guess it's pretty well busted.”

"Can you fix it?" Kyle asked.

"Yep," the man said. "But parts will be a problem." The man circled the van, looking at it with mild inter- est now.

"Gomer said you had a junked VW van. Maybe we could work something out," Kyle said.

"Maybe we could," the man said. Then he shifted his attention to the boys and said, "Before we get into a long discussion here tell me if you have the money for this.”

Looking down, Kyle realized they were a mess after driving through the night and walking for two hours. He didn't blame the man for asking. The three of them didn't look like they had the money for lunch much less for expensive repairs on a classic car.

And, more importantly, they actually didn't have the money. Kyle realized that they should have concocted a better story. Of course, they had expected to have money from Max's gold. Now, they were broke, and Kyle didn't want to admit it, but he didn't see that he had much choice. "See, that's the thing…," Kyle said. "We don't have the money right now. But… ”