When Tim turned the knob and pushed in the door to his apartment, I could instantly smell milk. It was the telltale smell of children; sour milk, chalky on the tongue, acrid to the nose, and probably invisible to those who were parents. It hit me like a warm gust of air from a rapidly opened oven, wraping itself around my head and sending me, still dizzy, to elementary school again. I half expected the empty smell of bleach to follow.

"Lock it behind you," he bade me, as he went into the darkened kitchen. I saw him reach up to his collar, and in an instant, his tie went flying across the hallway. It probably landed somewhere in the lviing room, if not in China, where it had been made of only the finest in polymers.

"Maybe tomorrow. Something will turn up tomorrow. I'm sure."

"It's been six months." He bent over, opened the fridge, and then ran his fingers through his hair. "The bitch didn't go grocery shopping. Great. Kevin will be hungry and I've got nothing to feed him."

"Something will turn up," I repeated.

"Yeah." He closed the fridge. "Yeah, Except everything I want I'm not qualified to do, and everything that I am qualified to do I can't stand. Shit. I may have to go back to pizza delivery. With gas the price it is these days...."

I wandered part him intothe carpeting of the living room. The only light came from outside, through the oppressive plastic Venetian blinds. Reaching forard, I ripped them open, bathing the ecru house in gilt afternoon December light. On the sill of the window sat his old workhorse Pentax camera. it had a fine layer of dust beginning to settle on it.

"You ever get those rolles --" I stopped myself short. Idiiot, idiot, idiot..

"What about rolls?"

I stared at the walls for a bit, hoping he'd move in without a direct answert,. When that didn't work, I opened my mouth. "Those rolls. The ones you shot when we went to Sauvies Island. I was just wondering if you'dd gotten them developed yet or not."

"How?" He shrugged. "I want to warn you, cause it's fair, money is getting tighter. We won't be able to do as much anymore...."

"No trip out the Gorge?"

"Don't know. Maybe. It'd have to be short. I just... I'm sorry. I just can't afford to. It sucks. I wanted to go too."

"Yeah, it's okay though. We don't have to stop doing things...."

"I'm going to be really broke, Jesse."

"So we can't spend time together anymore cause of that? Look, I'll chip in, I'll MAX out here, whatever. I don't mind." He made no response, his eyes were fixed on some p;oint outside the window, his face frozen. "Tim? Hey."

"Sorry." He shook his head. "I dunno. My heart isn't even in it. I... I... I don't know what I'm going to do. I just don't." He looked at the clock. "We need to go get Kevin. We'll only have to be here for half an hour or so 'til the bitch gets home. Then we can take off for a few hours before I take you home."

"Hey, no problem."

"I'm going to go get him at the school. You want to stay here, or come with?"

"I'll come, I'll come."

School. It was no school. If there was one thing I truly hated about the time I spent with Tim, it was that he put his son into day-care while we were out running around, he with his camera, I with my sketchbook. It left a hollow feeling in my throat. Th boy was only three, and he seemed not to mind or care. At least he had his playmates, where I had had none. In the few short blocks to the "school", we walked in heavy silence, us two who usually had more to say to each other than words existed to express.

I stopped on the sidewalk. "There's somethin I've never told you." Across a small parking lot, the little red plastic mock schoolhouse tower stood above the KFC of childcare. "When I was six, my father abandoned me and my mother. I never knew him. I know a name, but I don't know anything else about him. I guess they didn't get along well. My Mom and my Dad."

"I'm sorry."

"Everyone says that! Nobody means -- sorry, sorry. I'm sorry. Really. I didn't meant to snap at you."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not. You deserve better. I... admire you."

"You admire me? Why? I mean, thanks I guess, but what's there to admire?"

"My Dad walked out. You, you came back."

"Oh." Tim stuck his hands in his pockets. "I... Kevin was only one. Barely. My parents... I... I didn't want him to grow up without me in his life."

"I don't want to insult you."

"Insult me?"

"Your wife is a class A bitch."

"No shit! I say that all the time! Why would that insult me?"

"You have a right to say it. I don't. I mean, it's just, it's obvious she doesn't love you. And I don't mean to listen in, but every time I hear the two of you talk, I can hear her trying to shut doors on you, say no to everything you propose, just to annoy you."

"Yeah."

"But you stay. You stick it out."

I waited while he walked sdown to the school to pick up his son, and then we walked him home, the boy barely above my knees, running far too far ahead of us, while wwe played sheep-dog to his errant lamb.

"If I could just get a decent job," Tim said, catching his breath. "Kevin! On the sidewalk! ON THE SIDEWALK NOW! If I had a decent job things wouldn't be so bad. Wait for me, KEVIN! Wait for me! Stay RIGHT there! But I just don't know. It's just... nothing ever seems to work out, everyone always seems to have some kind of in somewhere and it's never me."

Ahead of us, the fading sun made a brilliant peach sundae out of Mount Hood, looming over the mess of high tension wires, telephone poles, streetlights, and other clutter that passed for suburban East County. It would be getting dark soon.

"Well... I have a friend in the photography business...."

***

"jesse" signed on at 3:50:21 PM.
"sara" signed on at 4:25:37 PM.
jesse: hi sara
sara: Hi!
sara: How are you doing Jesse?
jesse: not bad you?
sara: Okay. Sad though.
jesse: why sad?
sara: I didn't get to go with you guys yesterday. I really wanted to meet Tim.
jesse: yeah that was too bad
sara: How did it go?
jesse: fine fine nick liked him
sara: Yeah I heard that. That's good.
jesse: too bad the day didn't stay that good
sara: What do you mean?
jesse: just
jesse: tim and his wife
(4:30 PM)
jesse: his wife isn't really "supportive" if ya know what I mean
sara: I'm sorry to hear that.
sara: So is it just that she thinks he won't make money at photography?
jesse: i think she thinks hes wasting his time
sara: Sorry to hear about his wife feeling that way. It's a bummer.
jesse: yeah
jesse: um
jesse: you know I love you but i really don't want to talk about tim's marriage
jesse: i mean i don't know if he'd want me to and i don't want to say anything out of turn
sara: No it's alright. I understand. I've been there before.
jesse: ???
sara: Nick is my second husband.
jesse: oh i didn't know
sara: It's okay.
jesse: you've never talked about that to me before
sara: I didn't mean to hold anyting back.
(4:35 PM)
jesse: no i know it prolly just never came up
sara: yeah.
jesse: so how was your day otherwise?
sara: Tiring. A lot of work. Nick's a bit behind with a few shoots, and our printer broke.
sara: He started cursing at it. Didn't help much.
jesse: hahahahahahahaha!
jesse: i can just see him doing that too
jesse: too funny
sara: Yeah.
sara: I need a vacation but I never have time for one.
jesse: how about i come over sometime and we can sit arounf and play cards or something?
sara: I don't know when I'd have the time.
jesse: anytime is good for a starving artist
jesse: makes no difference if i play cards in the day and starve in the evening or play cards in the evening and starve in the day
sara: That's good. Sad though.
jesse: yeah tell me about it
jesse: so anyway how about it
jesse: we haven't done anything for a while
(4:40 PM)
sara: Cash is tight, and Nick is really busy. We can't aford to go anywhere really.
jesse: i was serious about the cards an evening with you is fine
sara: Nick wouldn't like it if he worked in the office all night while you and I played cards.
jesse: so we'll do it when nick is out :-P
sara: Hahaha.
jesse: you can teach me kanafuda at last
sara: It's a confusing card game.
jesse: its okay i'm a confused person so its right up my alley
sara: Hahaha.
sara: Okay. When?

***

I opened the stainless steel door of the fridge, and nearly blinded myself. The spotless white interior glared back at me like an angry glacier. In one corner was a carton of expired soy milk, in another, a bag of carrots, still in their clear plastic body-bag. On the door were a half-dozen jars of sauces with fancy paper labels, but not a whit of anything to drink.

"You're out of everything!"

From beyond the kitchen pass-through came Sara's muffled voice: "Yeah. We've not gone to the store for a while."

"I guess we'll have water."

"I'm sorry!"

"It's no big deal."

"At least get it from the fridge, not the sink. The fridge has a filter."

I grabbed a glass and filled it off the spigot on the freezer-half. "Cool."

Across the carpeting I walked in my socks, past the forty-eight inch television that was almost never used, and the radio setup that looked like a communicator from some science fiction show. You could see the CD spin in it through a glass lid, and it had a dull neon blue glow. It was really cool to look at, and the CDs sounded like... well... CDs.

I plunked myself down on the floor, set the glass down, and grabbed the guitar off the couch again. Outside the window the late Spring rain poured and poured and poured in thick grey curtains of warmth, and I swore I could feel it running down my back and shoulders and arms. I wanted to run out in it, to feel it against my skin. In front of me, Sara sat, cross-legged, her hair boyishly short and in a blatently dyed tine of electric red, dealing part of a deck of cards. With Nick gone to Olympia all day for a client, Sara was busy trying to teach me the ins and outs of the gambling arts of Japan.

"Kanafuda uses only forty cards, so I've rmeoved all the face cards. It's like blackjack, but the main goal is to get nine instead of twenty-one."

"My grandmother used to deal blackjack."

"Really?"

"Yeah, in the war."

"Wow. Your family is so cool."

"No they're not." I began making silent fingerwork on the frets of the guitar, running an idea through my head and playing it out in dumb. "I never knew my grandfather and Mom dumped me as soon as I was eighteen to go live with some guy she barely knew."

"I'm sorry."

"You've stopped shuffling. Show me this game."

Her eyes returned to the cards. "Okay. Well, you lay them out like this..."

I stopped paying attention to the meaning of the words, and listened to the sounds of them. The pitch, the tone, the pattern. Here meter varied but something about it was so unforced, so natural....

"....so then if you decide to draw again, and pull a ten, it's like pulling a zero. You'd add it to what you had and you'd still have just six."

"So what I want is a nine."

"What you want is to have a total of nine. If you pull a nine now, you'd only have a three. And since you already drew once, you can only draw one more time, and three probably won't beat the dealer's hand."

"So wait, I had six, now I drew ten --"

"Which left you still with six."

"And now I have only one shot to win."

"Yes. So you need a three. Anything more would just lower your score."

"I really don't think I understand this game."

Sara set the cards on the carpet in a small stack. "It's okay. We don't have to play this. Why don't you just play the guitar while I play solitaire."

"The guitar?" I frowned. "I'm... just working on an idea. I'm not ready to play it yet."

"Please. I want to hear."

"It's not any good."

"Please? I'll put on some anime later if you do. I have the latest disk of Ghost in the Shell!"

I sighed, then as I worked the fretwork, I let my right hand pluck instead of just hanging there losse over my body. I didn't have much, and knew it couldn't last; part of me wanted to just pop ooff a few chords and say I was done, and be over with the embarrassment. The other half wanted to keep playing, with her watching me all night.

I stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. That's just as far as I've gotten."

"That was beautiful."

"I was just playing what the rain made me feel."

"Yes." After a moment of silence, she stood up and walked to the sliding glass door, and cracked it open. The outside air wafted into the room, just as warm as that inside, but fresher, more languid.

"Sara."

She half turned.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Of course you can, you're my...."

"What?"

"You're like... like a brother to me. You know that. You can ask me anything."

"You told me... the other day... online... You said you'd been married before."

"Oh." She came back and laid down on the couch that I was leaning agains, her head near mine. Not for the first time, I became very aware of the thinness of her red pajamas. "It was back in Philly."

"What happened?"

"What happened? He was an asshole."

"Then why did you marry him?"

She reached out with one hand and touched my ear, then ran a finger through a stray curl of my hair. "Andy? I thought I loved him. He was good to party with."

"And...?"

"He was cute and had way too much hair. Like you. Fortunately thats's where the resemblence stops."

"Aaaaaaaaand...?"

"And nothing. It didn't work out. He was an arrogant programmer and wentbust in the dot-bomb. Just like Nick's ad agency actually. Except that he never made it out of the hole. He'd take on too many jobs and get too grand in his plans and get himself in debt. When I left he was still driving some damn Geo. And the ironic thing is he treated it with more respect than he treated me."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

She stopped running her hand through my hair, and cat-like, rolled on her back to look at me upside-down. "No, it's okay."

I went back to playing the guitar, but my figners went to jello, and wouldn't go where I wanted them to go anymore.

***

"jemckinnon" has entered chat at 8:12:33 PM.
jemckinnon: hi nick
photos4cashonly: Hello
jemckinnon: how are you?
photos4cashonly: Tired
jemckinnon: long day?
photos4cashonly: Bitchy client
photos4cashonly: Wanted an extra hour for free
jemckinnon: why
photos4cashonly: Thought she could take good photos herself so I fired her
jemckinnon: lol
jemckinnon: fired her? shes a client
jemckinnon: you work for her
photos4cashonly: Not anymore
photos4cashonly: Sara will be here in a few
jemckinnon: okay
"otaku_sara_2000" has entered chat at 8:22:07 PM.
jemckinnon: hi sara
otaku_sara_2000: Hi Jesse!
jemckinnon: heard you fired a client today
otaku_sara_2000: Fired a client?
jemckinnon: some woman who wanted a free hour of service
photos4cashonly: Told her she couldn't photograph her way out of a paper bag
otaku_sara_2000: Huh?
p: Pardonnet Realty
otaku_sara_2000: Oh.. That.
jemckinnon: did you really?
otaku_sara_2000: Yeah, did you really?
photos4cashonly: Sara's shooting me a dirty look now
photos4cashonly: No I told her I haad other appointments and couldn't spare any more time
photos4cashonly: She's a bitch
photos4cashonly: Wants everything for fee
photos4cashonly: I am not a charity
jemckinnon: how can you fire a client?
photos4cashonly: Easy
photos4cashonly: YOu tell them their true IQ test results were so low that the testers felt sorry for them and added a zero
jemckinnon: hahahaha
otaku_sara_2000: No we just stop being prompt about their orders
otaku_sara_2000: Eventually they quit calling
photos4cashonly: I don't like working for idiots
photos4cashonly: Idiots cost me money
photos4cashonly: Idiots always want everything for free because they never udnerstand how much work anything really takes. Then you have to spell it all out for them meaning it takes you longer to deal with them. And they usually don't knoiw what they reallly want so they change their minds a lot
jemckinnon: gotcha
photos4cashonly: Tim going to be on tonight?
jemckinnon: dunno
photos4cashonly: ??
jemckinnon: i tlaked with him earlier on the phone and it sounded like he had some personal stuff going on.
otaku_sara_2000: Personal stuff?
jemckinnon: wife stuff
jemckinnon: they don't really get along much
otaku_sara_2000: Oh no.
otaku_sara_2000: I'm sorry to hear that. Why not?
jemckinnon: *shrugs*
jemckinnon: I really shouldn't say anything
jemckinnon: i mean it's not my place
photos4cashonly: it's not because of the business is it?
photos4cashonly: because I may have some work for him
jemckinnon: really?
photos4cashonly: Yes, I have a shoot that may require two people
jemckinnon: cool
jemckinnon: well he said he'd try and be on
jemckinnon: there he is now
"foto_timmay1978" has entered chat at 8:39:55 PM.
otaku_sara_2000: Hi Tim!
photos4cashonly: Hello
foto_timmay1978: Hi all!
photos4cashonly: How's the wife
foto_timmay1978: Bitchy as usual
foto_timmay1978: Sorry Sara!
otaku_sara_2000: No, it's okay. If you don't mind my asking, what's going on?
otaku_sara_2000: Jesse mentioned you were having some issues but he didn't feel comfortable giving any details.
jemckinnon: sorry tim i didn't mean to say anything out of turn
foto_timmay1978: No, it's okay.
foto_timmay1978: She's a bitch, and I don't care who knows it.
otaku_sara_2000: I'm sorry.
photos4cashonly: Is she related to my ex?
foto_timmay1978: lol
photos4cashonly: Cause she was a bitch of the first order
photos4cashonly: She was such a bitch that kennels tried to hire her to breed with
foto_timmay1978: LOL!
jemckinnon: hahahaha
otaku_sara_2000: So what's the problem?
foto_timmay1978: Nothing.
photos4cashonly: She was such a bitch, she got on all fours to nag me
foto_timmay1978: HAHAHA!
photos4cashonly: She's giving me a dirty look again
foto_timmay1978: Sorry Sara.
foto_timmay1978: I don't mean to be rude.
otaku_sara_2000: No it's okay.
photos4cashonly: I think I'll go turn the furnace up
jemckinnon: lol
otaku_sara_2000: So what's going on with your wife?
foto_timmay1978: She just thinks I'm wasting my time that's all.
foto_timmay1978: She wants to pull Kevin out of day-care except for two days a week, so I wouldn't be able to leave the apartment.
photos4cashonly: Is this going to interfere with shooting for us?
foto_timmay1978: No!
foto_timmay1978: Absolutely not.
foto_timmay1978: I enjoyeed shooting for you and I'm going to do this
photos4cashonly: Good
photos4cashonly: Cause I may have something for you soon
foto_timmay1978: Really? Cool!
photos4cashonly: Yes really
foto_timmay1978: What's the job?
photos4cashonly: A grand opening
photos4cashonly: Lots of people
photos4cashonly: You up for that>
foto_timmay1978: Hell yes!
foto_timmay1978: When?
photos4cashonly: Sometime next week
photos4cashonly: Hey I'm really tired
photos4cashonly: I'll fill you in tomorrow if thats okay
foto_timmay1978: Yeah sure!
foto_timmay1978: Go get some rest.
jemckinnon: night nick
photos4cashonly: Delaing with idiots wears me out
"photos4cashonly" has left chat at 9:05:13 OM.
jemckinnon: so
jemckinnon: how was your day sara?
jemckinnon: hello?
jemckinnon: anyonee still here?
otaku_sara_2000: Yeah , sorry, got distracted.
jemckinnon: well i guess youa re both busy so i'm going to go catch upon some reading.
jemckinnon: later
"jemckinnon" has let chat at 9:19:42 PM.

direct message from "foto_timmay1978"
(9:35 PM)
foto_timmay1978: Sorry.
jemckinnon: huh?
foto_timmay1978: Me and Sara were talking and forgot about the chat room.
jemckinnon: talking?
jemckinnon: where?
foto_timmay1978: Directly.
jemckinnon: oh.
foto_timmay1978: Yeah, we're talking about the bitch.
foto_timmay1978: She's a good listener.
jemckinnon: yeah
jemckinnon: i know that already
jemckinnon: well i'm gonna go
"jemckinnon" signed off at 9:38:39 PM.

***

"I really appreciate you taking a day off to spend with us like this."

I looked at Nick ahead of me on the trail, camera bags slung over every appendage, and constantly sliding down, so he had to stop often to readjust them. His breathing was heavy and noticeable. "We all needed time off," he stammered, reaching back for one of the bags. "Besides, the clients were getting on my nerves today. I'm not sure why."

"They asking for extra service at no extra cost again?"

"No. Just being dicks. Being stupid. The usual for realtors."

I laughed. In front of me on the trail, Nick stopped, breathing slightly heavier than normal. "Hey can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what."

"Would you mind carrying the spare camera and the monopod for me? My shoulder's really starting to kill me."

"No problemo." Carefully, I took hold of the big nylon bag and slung its strap over my shoulder. Inside was Nick's latest pride-and-joy, a Mamiya 6x45 medium format camera. It was worth more than ll my worldly posessions, combined. But then, that didn't take much. As i made sure the strap was tight, I turned my head across my right shoulder. Down below and behind us I could see Tim and Sara, talking while taking a slower pace.

"Here." He handed me the monopod. "It doesn't weigh much, but it's just awkward for me to hold and still keep te F5 from swinging into a rock or something."

I gripped it, and we asceneded further up the trail. To each side were tall firs with little or no undergrowth, but of such density and depth that very little daylight penetrated at all. "Where are we going anyway?"

"There's a view..." huff-huff "up here...." huff "that you've got to see." Huff, huff, huff-huff. Pause. "When I first saw it, it just floored me."

"Cool. What of?"

"Of everything. The Eolas, mostly, if not Tartaros."

"Tartaros?"

"It's an old joke." Nick gazed past me.

"Sara and Tim have fallen behind."

"You know, just between you and me, I've always liked going out to the field to shoot, but I never liked to bring Sara along."

"Why not?"

"She always wants to come, but I'm always afraid she'll get bored. And besides, when you have someone who isn't a phoographer -- or," he paused to look at me "at least someone who doesn't understand --you're more restricted. You always wonder, will she mind if I go up there? Will she mind if I stand here?"

Then Nick turned and huffed his way back towards the top of the trail. As it steepened, I held the camera bag tightly to my chest, as if it were a baby and Iw as it's mother, nursing it. My feet began to find the ground soften, and then the sunlight flooded me in my eyes, and I climbed up a dry embankment into a field of grass. All around was sky; it seemed we were not gazing at it, but were in it, a grand azure sea of warm bath water. To my right, the valley floor stretched, a patchwork carpet of green and gold. I sucked on my cheeks. "I wish I could paint that," I said aloud, but Nick didn't hear me. Ahead of me, he stood in the circle of the grass, before a maz-like stand of brick walls. Like a child he stared at them, and like a child still, as if forgetting his shortness of breath, he grabbed hold of a few protrudences and launched himself up atop one of the walls.

I followed his footsteps, and carefully pulled myself up after him, propping the Mamiya in its bag on my back. I found Nick ahead of me atop a wall nearly two feet thick, made of large bricks the color of dried blood. Beyond him, the Cascades hid behind great billowing clouds the colors of steel and of eggshells.

"That's the Eolas They're named for the Greek god of the wind, Aelious." I followed his outstretched arm and saw a range of low hills to the right, alternatingly covered in fir trees and vineyards. "Thats what I meant by my joke."

"I don't get it."

"Aelious' twin sons were cast in Tartaros."

"Why? And what's Tartaros?"

"I don't remember why. Presumably for being sinners. Tartaros was like the Greek version of pergatory."

"Oh."

Nick kneeled down and picked up a brick. "You know what this is?"

"A brick?"

"The future. All my life, I moved from place to place. Turns out it was always that way. Once, I did some digging into my family history. It was a school project, I figured it would easy, I'd just ask my mother about her grandparents, write a paper, it'd be done. It wasn't that simple though, turned out she had been so stoned out of her when she was young that she didn't pay attention to her own family. Sometimes I wonder if she was stoned when I was inside her. It might explain why I come up with some of these crazy ideas."

"Hey some of those crazy ideas made you pretty sucessful."

"Hmm?" He looked over at me inquisitively. Audiences don't talkl back to the stage. "Yeah, well... here's another for you. For that stupid project I had to go digging through old newspapers and write old people in nursing homes and aunts I'd never heard of much less seen. And I got to know my family's histroy pretty well. It was the same as mine. Always moving, always shifting, always poor, never having enough to eat or anyplace that really meant home. I've always had it in the back of my mind. Some day, I'd have money. Some day, I'd reshape the world how I wanted it. Maybe not all of it, the the parts I could. And one of the things I wanted was a permanent home. A family home. And that's whay I had these bricks delivered here."

"Delivered? I thought this was a wall...."

"They're stacked on palletes. Didn't you notice?"

"No."

"It's going to be a grand house. It'll have a view of all of the valley, of my valley. The bricks were fired locally of clay from Dundee, and I have cedar and pine on order from a lot that got cleared in town. In fact, they came from the Philmont property I took you adn Tim to do that sample model shoot at."

"Cool." I gazed down around me now, noticing the brickes were, indeed, on wooden pallettes, and were stacked in dense compilations in the mud. "Um.... how did they deliver these, helicopter?"

"They drove them in."

"How?"

"There's a road oveer there," Nick said, motioning to the left grandly.

"There's a road? And we walked up that steep trail instead?"

"I wanted yuou to see the place for the first time the same way as I saw it."

I snapped my mouth shut. Our eyes met.

"She doesn't know," he said.

"About the bricks?"

"About any of it. She just thinks this is a place some photographer friend of mine recommended for a good view. I bought it, bought the bricks, bought everything, without telling her. I've been keeping money back."

"I see."

"You're the only person I thought would understand. I'm good at what I do, but I know that even then, photography isn't my true talent. It's ideas. But you, you're good at what you do. For you the brush is like the cello is to Yo Yo Ma --"

"Who?"

"-- and so I felt that maybe if you came here, and saw this, you'd udnerstand what I was risking so much money for. I've sunk us into debt so high you wouldn't beleive it, and I just needed someone to understand why."

I didn't know what to say. Dumbfounded, my eyes settled on the surroundings, and my tongue found words for that instead. "When I came out of the trees...."

"I know."

"But I realized there was no way to paint this. It's too much. I see so much. So far. How could I ever capture that on paper? But I want to, I have to try, even if I fail. It's like I can see to the ends of the Earth."

"Tartaros was at the ends of the Earth."

He shifted, then turned around to face me again. "I don't want you to tell her, Not yet. I want to start construction and have it udnerway first. Then I'm going to give it to her as an anniversary present. Then it will be okay. Befiore I had a chance to respond, he gazed past me. "They're finally up the trail. I see he's carrying that tripod I gave him correctly. Good, you don't want to lose a camera because of a loose mount. And remember, not a word. For now anyway. Now can you help me back down this pile? And be careful about the Mamiya, you'd better just set it down then hand it down after me...."

***

"jemckinnon" sighned on at 2:23:37 PM.
jemckinnon: hi
foto_timmay1978: Hi Jesse.
(2:25 PM)
foto_timmay1978: Sorry I was distracted.
jemckinnon: sawgood
jemckinnon: so how are you
foto_timmay1978: I'm fine.
jemckinnon: just fine?
(2:30 PM)
jemckinnon: i see sara is on
foto_timmay1978: Yeah.
jemckinnon: you talking to her?
(2:40 PM)
jemckinnon: i notice shes been on a lot lately
foto_timmay1978: Yeah.
(2:45 PM)
foto_timmay1978: I have to go.
jemckinnon: so soon?
jemckinnon: there goes sara
foto_timmay1978: Yeah.
foto_timmay1978: Wife.
"foto_timmay1978" signed off at 2:47:18 PM.
jemckinnon: okay
Message could not be delivered as the user "foto_timmay1978" is not online.

***

I never understood how people drove in the darkness. Especially the rainy darkness. It wasn't so much the slickness as it was the visibility. Outside the car windshield, the pavement was so shiny that it seemed at one moment to be the reflected glare of oncomming traffic, and at the next the blackest black. There were no in-betweens; it was either the one or the other.

I looked beside me. Behind the drivers wheel was Tim, driving me home again. Alternating patterns of sickly orange street light and thick darkness fell across his face.

"Thank you for driving me home again," I offered.

"Hey, no problem. No big deal."

"It's a long drive. it's not a problem. I could take MAX back home."

"No, really. Besides, it's good to get out of the house."

I snorted, but said nothing more. No matter how much I detested Bev, I never felt comfortable making comments about another man's wife.

We passed a few miles closer into the center of town before he spoke again. "So when are we going to get together with Nick and Sara again?"

"He's got a house shoot next week. I'm sure we could go along with him, if you wanted to."

"Only if it isn't a problem."

"No. I'm sure he won't mind."

Silence. Then: "Listen, you've been a really good friend to me. I want to thank you for that."

"Uh... okay. I mean, thanks." When it was clear he was struggling with something more, I continued. "Is everything alright?"

"I just wanted you to know that. No matter what happens."

"What do you mean, no matter what happens? What's going on?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Mmhmm...?"

"I think I'm developing feelings... for Sara."

Reaching down with my right hand, I popped the lever for the seat and leaned it back, closing my eyes. Slowly, I let out an exhale of breath. "I see."

"I'm in love with her."

"You only met her four months ago. You barely know her."

"True. But what I do know, I love."

"She's married. You're married too. And you have a kid."

He sighed. "I know. But I can't stop thinking about her."

"You have to. Even if you were free of that -- of your wife, you still have a son to care for. He's not old enough to understand more than that daddy is going away. And you know you can't do that. You know you don't want to."

"No. I know. You're right. But its still how I feel."

"Yeah."

We were approaching I-5 now, the lit towers of the city popping up ahead of us on the freeway. Traffic was sparse, it was nearly eleven. We passed a long string of D-O-T maintenance vehicles, all flashing yellow caution signs.

"I can't blame you for liking her. So do I."

"It's more than like."

"Yeah. You sure about that?" I could feel my mind galloping like a horse that's broken away, and thoughts found my tongue before I had time to call them back. "I've known Nick and Sara for a long time. They've been my friends for a long time. Longer than I've known you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"They've been very kind to me. They've done a lot for me. They both mean a lot to me."

"Yeah."

"They've been kind to you too."

"Yeah. I know. Thats why I didn't want to take that tripod from Nick. It felt... wrong."

"I bet."

"You didn't have to agree."

"I don't want to see them hurt." He said nothing. Then, out of somewhere deep inside of me, I touched fire. "I'm going to lose you all."

"What?"

"If you don't bury this, I'll lose you all."

"It's too strong to just bury and forget."

"Your son. Her marriage. Our friendship."

"I'd never give up our friendship."

"It's not your choice." My voice was barely audible. It was almost as if I had only mouthed it.

"What?"

"If you.... You're... you're not just messing with your own life Tim. There are consequences. I brought you into their life. I brought you into their house. Don't you understand? If you ruin their marriage, I'll lose you all. He'll blame me for bringing you into the picture. And... and... and...." I swallowed hard.

He shook his head. "It won't be like that."

"And if you fuck up their lives, I may never be able to forgive you for it."

His lips had been about to part, but they changed their minds. Driving into a tunnel, we left behind the towers of downtown, and were soon in the darkness of the highway to the west side. A strained silence took the third seat between us until we were in the driveway in front of home.

"And if I don't," I said to myself as I mounted my stairs, "she'll pick the man she loves not me."

***

"foto_timmay1978" signed on at 3:05:04 PM.
"jemckinnon" signed on at 6:15:33 PM.
foto_timmay1978: Hiya.
jemckinnon: hey
foto_timmay1978: What's up?
jemckinnon: not much
jemckinnon: long time no see online anyway
jemckinnon: how are you?
foto_timmay1978: Just hanging in. The bitch isn't home yet.
jemckinnon: coo
(6:20 PM)
foto_timmay1978: So what are you doing?
jemckinnon: just checking mail and working on a painting
foto_timmay1978: Cool. What of?
jemckinnon: just a cool panorama view i'm not sure its going to turn out tho
foto_timmay1978: Oh. Why not?
jemckinnon: just might not
jemckinnon: sometimes things dont
foto_timmay1978: Oh.
(6:25 PM)
jemckinnon: youve sure been typing a long time
foto_timmay1978: What?
jemckinnon: this says you were typing for like the last ten minutes
foto_timmay1978: Oh. Yeah, I'm working on somethig I want to send you.
jemckinnon: send me?
foto_timmay1978: Hold on.
jemckinnon: k
(6:30 PM)
foto_timmay1978: I don't want you to freak out but something's happened. Sara and Nick were talking last night and she told him about us.
jemckinnon: uh what do you mean "us"
foto_timmay1978: She told him that she and I had been seeing each other and that she wants a divorce.
jemckinnon: seeing each other?
jemckinnon: how have you been seeing each other?
foto_timmay1978: We talk a lot online.
jemckinnon: i hardly ever see either of you online anymore.
foto_timmay1978: I don't want you to get mad at us. We registered different screen names to use. We didn't want you to notice how much we talked and get worried about it.
jemckinnon: i see
foto_timmay1978: We didn't mean to lie to you. I'm sorry. We just didn't want to drag you into this.
(6:35 PM)
jemckinnon: no of course not
jemckinnon: so all you do is talk but she wants a divorce from nick for you?
foto_timmay1978: We've also met a few times.
jemckinnon: met
jemckinnon: like where
foto_timmay1978: Just places.
jemckinnon: and what about kevin?
foto_timmay1978: Look I know this is hard and I know you didn't want things this way. And I know Nick is your friend too. Thats why we didnt want you to know. We didnt want you to get stuck in the middle.
(6:40 PM.)
foto_timmay1978: Hey you okay?
jemckinnon: what?
foto_timmay1978: You haven't said anything for a while. I was afraid maybe you'd gotten mad at me or something.
jemckinnon: no why would i be mad at you
foto_timmay1978: You sure you're okay?
(6:45 PM)
foto_timmay1978: Jesse?
foto_timmay1978: You still there?
foto_timmay1978: Jesse?
(6:50 PM)
foto_timmay1978: Hello?
foto_timmay1978: Tlak to me, please?
(6:55 PM)
"jemckinnon" has stopped using the computer at 6:56:18 PM, and is now considered idle.
(9:55 PM)
"foto_timmay1978" signed off at 9:55:04 PM.

***

The box under my arm was really nagging me. It was just that right size to be too big to hold onto without slipping, but too small to carry in front of me. And as my feet found the thin, scrawny blond grass. I could feel it slipping, slipping away.

The house was more finished now -- as finished as it would likely ever be. A few brick walls, wide openings in them covered in plywood, hinting at the granduer that would never be realized. A roof had been placed on it, but that's where the work had stopped. That had been Summer. The door I could not find, but in the fading light, I found a curtain of plastic, and pulled it back and entered the damp interior. I would have knocked, but there was little worth knocking on.

"Hello?"

My voice seemed to fade, seemed to be soaked up by the brick.

"Nick? Hello?"

I felt the box begin to slip, so I let it slide down my leg in a controlled fall, landing on the dusty plywood floor with a thud. Then: "What are you doing here?"

I said nothing, and as my eyes adjusted, I finally caught sight of Nick, standing near what would probably have been an open hearth. He seemed out of place -- no dirt, no dust, just his usual polo shirt and khakis and brown leather shoes and hair that waved at the slightest breath. He didn't belong here.

"She said you'd be here. She said you spent a lot of time here now."

He grunted, and his eyes spotted the box.

"It's all there," I added. "The tripod, everything. I checked it all."

He nodded, then he didn't look at me again. I breathed slowly, wondering what to do, what to say, or whether I should just go, when my lips decided for me.

"You blame me. You hate me for it."

"You brought him into my life. Our life. My house."

"I didn't know. I... well... he told me what he felt once, but that was after it had started, and I didn't know. So I told him to forget her. I told him...." I shook my head.

"I did blame you. Both of you. She fought for you though. She insisted you hadn't known, that it wasn't your fault."

"I wish I'd never met you. If I hadn't, this would never have happened."

He walked towards me, until he was so close I could sense his breathing. Would he hit me? Fuck, was he going to hug me? Whatever it was, I just wanted him to get it over with. I wantd everything over with. Then he paused, and went outside, into the blue.

Not knowing waht else to do, I followed him, and he lead me to a large storage of materials beside the building. A number of jugs sat beside a pile of lumber that nearly reached one of the eaves of the house.

"I was going to burn it down."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"I kept thinking about it. Just setting it all afire. It was mine to build, and it's mine to destroy, and now it won't be built, I don't want anyone else to live in it." Bending over in the growing darkness, Nick picked up a jug, opened it, and began to pour it over the lumber.

Trigun. I could now remember the exact cover. It had started with a manga volume on a bus. She sat reading it. Red hair. Yellow bus poles. Black seats. Blue sky. Gray book jacket. Purple sweater. Pink lips. I had had the same volume in my book bag, and took it out, and put it where she couldn't help but see. She seemed not to notice, but when I next looked up, her lips were smiling. I swallowed hard.

"Sara."

Nick turned around, and his eyes met mine. "Oh, fuck off." Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a lighter, and touched the lumber with it. A rush of orange and white made my retinas hurt, and I closed my swimming eyelids against it. When I next opened them, the fire had already spread to the roof, and the sky was filled with a shower of embers, flying like mad lightening bugs, carrying thoughts to the slowly brightening stars. Memories, like tears, falling in reverse, falling skyward in fire and smoke and ashes.  

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