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silence. Money. Drugs. Sex. These were the things he expected Dale to need. These were the things he expected to hear. But a man’s soul? There was only one explanation for it. Jonah crossed his arms as he stared hard at the asshole trying to make a fool of him. “Very funny, guys.”
    “No,” Dale said. “It’s not funny. Not at all.”
    “Oh, I reckon it’s funny, all right,” the officer said. “Seeing as how you dodged this bullet for how many years?”
    “Not long enough,” Dale snarled, squaring his shoulders and widening his stance.
    The officer squared off as well, setting himself up for a fast and dirty fight, as he gritted his teeth and said, “You have no idea what ‘long enough’ even means. When I get done with you, you’re gonna know what an eternity of pain feels like. Every. Damned. Second.”
    “Enough!” Jonah cried.
    The men dropped their dog-eat-dog stances and turned to face Jonah.
    “Enough,” Jonah repeated. “This is getting old. I don’t know how Dale knew I would bring him here, but this is done. The joke is over.” Jonah shook his head at Dale, giving the man his best admonishing look. “Your soul? Really? Do I look that stupid?”
    “In a word?” Dale asked. “Yes.”
    The officer said nothing. He just smiled, put his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels again, as if the whole thing amused him immeasurably. Which it probably did.
    Jonah snorted. “You set me up for this from the word go. Even back at the restaurant. All that boohooing about not wanting to return to California. I bet that waitress was in on it, too.”
    “What are you talking about?” Dale asked.
    “This!” Jonah waved at the officer. “This bullshit. Jesus, Dale. You’ve pulled some pretty bad stunts, but this is just … just … stupid.”
    “Stupid?” the officer asked.
    “Jonah,” Dale said. “I swear to you, this is real. But it’s not your fault, man. You didn’t know.”
    “Geesh!” Jonah yelled. “Won’t you just let it go already? I’m not buying it anymore. This guilt trip you’re trying to lay on me. Him wanting your soul. God. This is the worst vacation ever!” Pulling his keys from his pocket, Jonah left the pair standing on the highway’s shoulder as he returned to his car.
    “Where are you going?” the officer asked.
    “Home.”
    “How ya gonna do that?”
    Jonah turned in place and jangled the set of keys at the mad man. “By putting this,” he gave the keys an extra hard shake to emphasis his words, “into that,” he paused to point at the car, “and driving it the hell out of here.”
    “Talk about stupid. Those things will never fit that car.”
    Jonah looked at his keys and saw just what the officer meant. Instead of his usual ensemble of keys—home, car, office, locker, and two keys that had long since lost their meaning—Jonah was holding a ring of brightly colored plastic keys. A child’s toy.
    “Is the red one for the car?” the officer asked. “Or is it the purple one?”
    Jonah dropped the ring, unsure of how the man had switched the keys without Jonah feeling a thing. And without moving at all. He stared at the plastic toy lying at his feet, and then glanced back up to the stranger. “Give me my keys back.”
    “Take them. They’re right there.” The officer pointed at Jonah’s feet.
    The toy key ring was gone, replaced by his real keys.
    “What’s going on?” Jonah asked.
    “You know,” the officer said. “I’m getting pretty tired of that noise. I can barely hear you boys.” The man snapped, and there came a deafening silence.
    Cars continued to race along the freeway beside them, but not a single vehicle made a sound. Not a honk. Not a vroom . Not an angry word. The officer kicked at the gravel, which scattered in a ricochet of flying rocks, their clatter against the car hood abnormally loud in the sudden silence. Panic gripped Jonah again as his mind scrambled to understand what he was seeing and hearing. Or rather