6:39pm, 28 May 2009
Manchester, New Hampshire

Jesse slumped in the chair, looking out the window. The low clouds reflected dully in the shiny glass, glowing mauve from the city lights. Behind him, people bustled back and forth.

Airports were interesting places. They were a lot like threshholds, not 'here' anymore, but not yet 'there.'

And it was definitely time to be 'there.' Any 'there.' Because 'here' wasn't working.

Turned on the weather man just after the news
I needed sweet rain to wash away my blues
He looked at the chart but he look in vain
Heavy cloud, but no rain

Jesse had never gone to meet Luke. He had thought, long and hard, about what it would mean to just walk away from the whole thing.

It would mean lots of things, of course, but only one important thing: that would be it for him and Luke. There would be no turning back from this one.

"Welcome to Sourthwest flight 331 to Baltimore. Here on Southwest we board in groups of thirty, so check your orange-colored boarding card to see what number you have. Before we get to the general boarding, we're going to preboard minors travelling alone, and anyone needing just a few extra minutes to get up the boarding ramp."

If the night turned cold and the stars looked down
And you hug yourself on the cold cold ground
You wake the morning in a stranger's coat
No one would you see

Luke opened bleary eyes. He wiped away the dried, bloody tears he had cried himself to sleep with the morning before. The hotel room was oppressively silent, not even the annoying air conditioner whirring in the still evening. The sun was not fully down yet, but Luke hadn't really been sleeping well lately, and had gotten used to having to wait for a while before leaving the room.

He looked at the rumpled sheets next to him. He had been so close to falling back into the old ways last night. He even had the boy in his bed. But then he had pulled Luke's shirt off and noticed the St. Jude medal on his chest. And Luke broke down. He hid the bloody tears, but couldn't bear to think of what had almost happened. The boy had left in a rush, completely confused.

~How pathetic,~ Luke had thought to himself. ~You can't even manage to regress well.~ And the anger boiled up again.

A stone's throw from Jerusalem
I walked a lonely mile in the moonlight
And though a million stars were shining
My heart was lost on a distant planet
That whirls around the April moon
Whirling in an arc of sadness
I'm lost without you
Though all my kingdoms turn to sand
And fall into the sea
I'm mad about you

Jesse stood up, picking up his backpack. He hadn't acquired much more in Manchester than he had arrived with. 'Shake the dust from your feet,' the Good Book said, and that's exactly what Jesse intended to do.

He might be able to go back to school, he had thought. The missing finger was easy enough to talk around--combine accident back home--but the missing year or so wouldn't be quite as easy. ~I'll probably have to resign myself to one of those lame 'I was out finding myself' excuses.~

He eddied toward the gate with the others who were eager enough to get to the ticket counter early and get a low boarding pass number. He handed over his garish orange ticket to freedom and, without a backward glance, walked down the jetway away from Manchester.

And from the dark secluded valleys
I heard the ancient songs of sadness
But every step I thought of you
Every footstep only you
And every star a grain of sand
The leavings of a dried up ocean
Tell me, how much longer? How much longer?

The anger came again, and Luke did with it what he had been learning for the past year. He clamped his mouth shut, set his eyes, and did the best he could to 'let it go,' as the psychotherapeutic junkies would say. That would usually suppress it long enough for him to focus on something else. No more riding the wave of anger, like he used to with Sir, and James, and Dolores, and the others.

He dressed quickly and left the hotel. He had to go walk, outside beneath the stars.

Well the land was cracking and the river was dry
All the crops were dying when they ought to be high
So to save his farm from the banker's draft
The farmer took out a book on some old witchcraft
He made a spell and a potion on a midsummer's night
He killed a brindled calf in the pale moonlight
He prayed to the sky but he prayed in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain

Jesse leaned against the window, hoping that the anxious execugeek in the aisle seat with his laptop out would keep someone from trying to get the middle space. He looked out at the ground crew hustling around, getting the last few bags onto the plane.

"We know you've all heard this before, but pipe down and listen up anyway. In case you haven't been in a car since 1964, this is a seatbelt. Inset the flat metal piece into the buckle until it clicks, then adjust the lapbelt by pulling on the tab...."

They say a city in the desert lies
The vanity of an ancient king
But the city lies in broken pieces
Where the wind howls and the vultures sing
These are the works of man
This is the sum of our ambition
With every prison blown to dust
My enemies walk free
I'm mad about you

Luke found himself wandering aimlessly through town. He passed by the Black Squirrel Tavern, only glancing at the windows as he walked by. He had waited there long enough: Jesse would not be there tonight.

With a sudden, crystalline clarity, the thought struck him: nor would he be. Ever.

With a grim certainty, Luke knew, deep in his heart, that Jesse would not be coming for him. That woman had lied, or been wrong.

The first drops of rain hit his forehead as he turned his face upward, mouth open in a silent cry out to the heavens.

When your belly's empty and the hunger's so real
And you're too proud to beg and too dumb to steal
You search the city for your only friend
No one would you see

"This is your captain speaking, we, uh, will be having a slight delay, because of, uh, some rain going through, we, uh, expect that it will be passing us by to the south, but, uh, we don't want to take any chances, so, uh, we're going to pull off to one side for a bit, and, uh, wait it out, we, uh, expect to be here another fifteen minutes or so."

The monotonous voice barely penetrated Jesse's consciousness, and the captain's amazing capacity to render whole paragraphs into single eternal sentences put Jesse back to sleep.

The slash of lightning and rolling thunder woke him up very quickly, though.

You ask yourself, who'd watch for me
My only friend, who could it be
It's hard to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me

Luke found his way to the fire escape of the office building behind the Squirrel. He climbed up, feet slipping a little on the damp metal. He needed perspective, and you could only get perspective from high up.

He needed to be able to reflect on the little nugget of logic that had struck him soon after he realized Jesse was gone: Jesse was the only thing that had stopped him--twice now--from ending this suffering once and for all.

And so he had to go get perspective on the question: what was stopping him now?

And I have never in my life
Felt more alone than I do now
Although I claim dominions over all I see
It means nothing to me
There are no victories
In all our histories, without love

And as Luke looked out across the city, the rain beat down harder, soaking everything in sight.		And as Jesse looked out of the window, the rain beat down harder, soaking everything in sight.
~There is nothing for me here.~		~There is nothing for me here.~
And he looked down to the alley below, and saw the jagged edges of the rusted dumpster, and knew that would take care of everything that was wrong.		And he looked up to the sky above, and saw the silvery edges of the thickening clouds, and knew that would take care of everything that was wrong.

You're not the easiest person I ever got to know
And it's hard for us both to let our feelings show
Some would say I should let you go your way
You'll only make me cry
If there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
It's hard to say it
It's hard to say it, but it's probably me

But still, something held Luke back.

~What's wrong? Can't you even commit suicide right?~

Luke found himself snapping back angrily, ~Fuck off! I don't want to die!~ The vehemence of that reply brought him up short. It had definitely come from within, but from someplace he hadn't heard from in a while.

He tried it again, out loud. "I don't...want to die."

It fit. It worked.

"We're, uh, sorry, folks, but the storm cell seems to be heading this way unexpectedly, and, uh, the control tower has grounded all flights for tonight, so we've got to head back to the gate. One of our, uh, perky flight attendants will help you to make alternate flight plans."

Jesse looked out at the blinding rain slamming against his porthole. Where did this come from? And he knew, deep in his heart, that this change in the weather was no accident.

And if it wasn't an accident, then Someone was trying to tell him something, probably about Luke.

And though you hold the keys to ruin
Of everything I see
With every prison blown to dust
My enemies walk free
Though all my kingdoms turn to sand
And fall into the sea
I'm mad about you

Luke sat on the edge of the parapet and looked out over the city, soaked to the bone by the pounding rain.

~I did it myself this time, big guy. You didn't have to come save me.~

The thought gave him a peculiar satisfaction.

The sun won't shine till the clouds are gone
The clouds won't go till their work is done
And every morning you'll hear me pray
If only it would rain today
I asked my baby if there'd be some way
She said she'd save her love for a rainy day
I look in the sky but I look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain

[Lyrics: "Heavy Cloud No Rain," "It's Probably Me," and "Mad About You," all by Sting.]