Well, it might be an accident, but it harmed no one if he enjoyed being close to her. His thoughts were foolish, he knew. She had just broken up with her husband.

Her husband.

Not her boyfriend, but her husband. And even before Jesse, when she was free, she had never looked at Kyle in any way other than friendship. Still, the thoughts came, anyway. And though they were foolish, he also knew that it wouldn't hurt anyone if he indulged in them.

Isabel started in her sleep, and for a moment, Kyle thought she might wake up. She didn't. Instead, her hand reached out and found his chest, and rested there for a moment. He found that the sound of his own breathing and the beating of his heart seemed deafening. However, no one else in the otherwise quiet room seemed to notice.

Then she was moving toward him in a sleepy haze. Kyle held his breath as she put her head down on his chest. He was amazed that the thundering inside didn't wake her, but she stayed asleep.

Well, he thought. She's had a scare. It's only natural. She probably thinks I'm Jesse.

Kyle regained his breath and slowly put his arm around Isabel's shoulder. He suddenly felt guilty about his thoughts about her. She was grieving the loss of her hus- band, and scared to death for some poor girl. And there he was entertaining a schoolboy crush.

They had more important things to think about now. Something awful was happening in this town. Liz, Isabel, and the others were trying to help. And Kyle knew what his own father would do. Sheriff or not, his father had never backed away from someone in trouble. Kyle would do the same. He didn't know what good it would do any- one. He didn't have Max's powers, or ever Liz's. He only had himself. Still, he would lend whatever help he could.

Isabel stirred, and Kyle looked down at the top of her head. She did smell wonderful.

Kyle knew it would be a long time before he fell asleep.

When Kyle woke up, Isabel was already up. In fact, all the girls were. He saw that Max and Michael were just getting up as well.

Maria was looking down at Michael and nudging him with her foot. "Come on, Space Boy, you can walk us to work," she said.

"We all will," Kyle said, getting up himself.

"Isabel, you should come too. I don't want you here alone," Max said.

Isabel nodded and said, "I tried again, Max. I couldn't make contact at all.”

Kyle stepped forward and said, "Maybe she's just awake.”

"Maybe," Isabel said flatly as she stepped outside. The others followed.

Kyle could tell Isabel was still shaken up. Something had happened to her in the dream. She was scared. That told Kyle all he had to know about what they were up against.

He had rarely seen Isabel frightened. Kyle had always thought she was fearless by nature, cooler even than Max. Part of it was her powers, he guessed. She could defend herself against almost anything. A larger part of it was just her nature, though. He had never seen her back down from anything from a fight with an alien menace to an uncomfortable situation with a friend.

Fear looked unnatural on her face, and Kyle found something strange rising up in himself: anger. He was angry that something would take hold of Isabel that way. She had suffered enough. She had given up enough. Instinctively, Kyle found himself walking closer to her. It was absurd. Of the three guys in the group, he was the least able to protect her or anyone else. In fact, if it were not for Michael, he might not have survived his encounter with Gomer.

Still, Kyle decided that anyone out to hurt Isabel would have to go through him first.

At the diner, Bell insisted that they stay to eat breakfast before the place opened. Kyle was glad. The food seemed to take Isabels mind off what was bothering her. Kyle ate quickly; he had something he wanted to do before work. He leaned down to Isabel and said, "Are you going to be okay?”

"Sure," she said. She looked cool and collected. It seemed like the old Isabel was back, but Kyle didn't believe it for a minute.

"Don't go to the Laundromat," he said. "Stay with Max and Michael.”

She started to protest, but Max interjected, "You can keep trying to contact Jessica.”

"I'll check out the Laundromat," Michael said. "I was the first runner-up for the relief-attendant position.”

"Okay," Isabel said. "I'll keep trying to reach Jessica.”

Satisfied, Kyle said his good-byes and headed back to the garage. He had about a half hour before work, and no one was in yet. Heading around back, Kyle found the minibus. It was sitting on cinder blocks and looking every one of its thirty-some years of age.

It had been a hippie vehicle… that much Kyle could see from the psychedelic paint. He wondered if Dan had been a hippie back then. Dan wore his long gray hair in a ponytail, but, still, the image didn't fit. He was way too serious a person.

Kyle grabbed a few old tools from the shed in the back and got back to the van.-He opened up the hood and checked out the engine compartment. He would need Dan's permission to open up the engine and take a look at the timing chain, but he did see a number of parts they could use: alternator, starter, fuel pump. They were all things that it would be a good idea to carry around as spares if they kept the van. After all, it was at least as old as his father, and Kyle was pretty sure that keeping it running would be a serious part-time job for him in the weeks to come.

Next, he opened the driver's side door… which took some doing… and climbed inside. The interior wasn't in very good condition, with plenty of rust on the various pieces of exposed metal.

There were only two seats in the front. The back was left open, covered by a light blue shag carpet that looked older than the van. It was also littered with old magazines and other junk, including a broken guitar. He checked the date on one of the magazines; it was a Life magazine from 1970. Like the van itself, it was an artifact from a different age… or a different world. In all likelihood, the van had been sitting on these cinder blocks since that time. In that case, it would never be good for anything other than parts and scrap metal.

When he put the magazine down, it opened and some- thing fell out. Kyle thought it was a response card and started to turn away when he noticed that it was actually a color photo.

Leaning down, Kyle picked it up and looked into a window straight into the past. The photo was of the van when the psychedelic paint job must have been new. It was parked in front of the garage, which looked much newer as well. In front of the van was a tall, gangly teenager with long hair, who was making a peace sign with his hand. He looked maybe seventeen, about Kyle's own age. Next to him was a boy of twelve or thirteen who had his arm wrapped around the older boy's waist. The young boy was smiling broadly and looking up in unabashed admiration at the hippie teenager. Kyle turned the picture over and saw, scrawled on the back, the words "Me and Johnny.”

Turning it over again, Kyle studied the picture once more. There was something touching about the way the younger boy was looking at the older one. And something familiar.

"Hey," a voice said from outside.

Surprised, Kyle lifted his head up quickly and banged it on the top of the van. Turning around, he saw Dan looking at him through the windshield. Up until now, Dan had been stiff and serious. In fact, Kyle realized that he had never seen the man smile.

But there was no mistaking the expression on his face. Dan was angry.

Kyle stepped forward, not sure how to handle this. What was his new boss thinking? Feeling clumsy, Kyle got into the driver's seat and pushed the door open. Once again, it was stuck and he had to struggle with it to force it open.