“I don’t know who he was. I don’t want to know. What if he had a family? People waiting for him? Oh, God. What if they recover his body someday. They’ll see his throat. And someone will figure it out—”
“Jimmy! Stop it. Look out there. Look at that mess—nobody’s going to recover anything.”
“Squeak, you stop it! I know what I did! I have to live with it.”
Hu put his hand on James’ arm. “Bubble—listen to me. What we went through—it was horrible. It was all my worst fears, everything, all at once—but I made it because you were there—you. Just like the first time.”
James started to protest, but Hu grabbed him by both shoulders and poured out the rest of his words in a frantic rush. “Out of all the millions of people who died today—God knows how many, but we survived, you and I—and Julia and her mother, and that little prick Jesse too. We survived because survival is what you do. It’s who you are.”
“Who I am—?” James couldn’t stand it. “I know who I am now. I don’t want to be who I am—I couldn’t save him! I had to—had to—”
“No, listen! Listen to me—as much as I hate to say this, because it’s so fucking cruel and selfish to even think this way, but it’s still true anyway—that man was already dead when he boarded the subway. Every single one of them. We all were. We just didn’t know it. And if you and I had left the bike trailers behind, if we’d abandoned the tanks when we thought they were too heavy, we’d be dead too. All five of us. And your last thoughts would have been rage at yourself for listening to my whining—this is better! Isn’t it?”
But James was adamant in his pain. “I know what you’re trying to do, Squeak. And I love you for it. But—I know what I did—and it hurts me so much inside to know that I did it—that I’m even capable of it. This hurts like you can’t imagine—”
“Excuse me, guys—?” An interruption. A voice from behind them. They turned to see Seal Team Commander Wright. He was holding Jesse by the upper arm. “You the guys from the subway?”
“Yeah?”
Wright let go of Jesse, but not before saying to him. “Stay.” Then he held out his hand to James. “I heard what you did down there, heard it from the kid. It must have been rough, but I wanted you to know, it’s one of the best things I’ve heard today. I mean, you done good.” Wright shook James’ hand, then Hu’s. He nodded back toward the chopper. “We’re refueling, going back out in thirty, but I wanted to make sure you were good. And uh, the kid here has something to say to you too.” He poked Jesse. “Go ahead, mister.”
Jesse looked embarrassed. He swallowed hard and looked at his feet. When he looked up, his eyes were wet. “I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t know why I said it. It just fell out. But I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you guys. So… um, I guess, I want to say thank you, I owe you my life, and I hope you’ll forgive me for being such a dick.”
Hu’s smile came easier than James’. He said, “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I mean, why’d you do it? You didn’t have to. I mean, I saw what you did to that other guy and—”
James interrupted quickly, “You said ‘please.’”
“Huh? That’s it?”
“Yeah, that was it.”
“Whoa,” said Jesse. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, whoa.”
Jesse looked confused. “I don’t get it.”
James smiled sourly. “Neither do I, kid. Neither do I.”
Wright had watched the whole exchange. He spoke up now. “There’s nothing to get. You did what was in front of you.” To Jesse, he said, “He gave you a second chance. Now you gotta make the most of it. Make a difference.” He pushed the teen gently.
Jesse held out his hand. James took it, shook it. So did Hu.
“We’re good then?”
James and Hu nodded. Wright seemed satisfied. He lifted his hand in a salute of respect and headed back to his chopper.
Jesse stood there, still looking embarrassed, shifting from one foot to the other. Finally, he gave a nervous smile. “I’m gonna go get in line for the phone. Okay? Gotta call my gramma and let her know I made it. I hope you guys land on your feet.” And then he was gone, too.
“Well,” said Hu. “That was something.”
“Yeah,” agreed James. “He said please.”
But he was still in a funk so deep it was no longer blue, it had gone to indigo. He turned back to the railing and stared across at the Hollywood sign without really seeing it.
“Excuse me—?” Another interruption.
This time it was a man in a clerical collar. He looked like some casting director’s idea of the perfect priest—but one who is falsely accused of molesting little boys until exonerated in the third act denouement. “Are you the ones looking for a minister? I’m Father Feigenberg—”
“Father Feigenberg? Really? You’re kidding me.”
“I get that a lot, yes. Someone said you needed a priest.” He looked at them with puzzled curiosity. “Do you want me to pray with you?”
James and Hu looked at each other, then back to Father Feigenberg. Hu spoke first. “We need you to make us legal. We want you to say some nice words and then sign this—” He passed over the marriage license.
Father Feigenberg looked at their marriage license, looked from one to the other, back to the license, then back to the two of them again. “Um, I’m afraid I can’t—my faith doesn’t recognize same-sex unions.”
“Oh, hell!” said James, frustrated. It was just too much. He said it loud enough that a few nearby people turned around to look. James turned angrily to the railing, glowered out at the landscape of mud and desolation and everything buried under it—then, just as abruptly, he whirled back. “Father? Will you hear my confession?”
Hu’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were Catholic—”
“Recovering,” admitted James. “Father—?”
Father Feigenberg nodded. He led James a short distance away, to the best privacy they could find—a quiet space behind a pedestal with a bronze bust of James Dean. It had been installed as a commemoration of the famous observatory scenes in Rebel Without A Cause.
Hu watched from a distance as both James and the priest knelt together. First James crossed himself, then bent his head to whisper in Father Feigenberg’s ear. He took a long time, and halfway through, the priest reached over to put his hand on James’ shoulder, a gesture of solidarity and comfort. James kept talking—and then a little after that, he started weeping. Father Feigenberg pulled him close and let him cry into his shoulder.
Finally, James pulled back and Father Feigenberg made the sign of the cross over him, and said some words—some words that James so desperately needed to hear. His whole body relaxed. And even from a distance, Hu could see that James’ pain had been lessened. Not released, not yet—but lessened. It was a start.
Finally, after a few more minutes, Father Feigenberg led James back to Hu and the two shared a look.
“Are you all right?”
“A little better. Yeah.”
Feigenberg looked from one to the other. He hadn’t met many same-sex couples, a side effect of his particular calling. But he felt there was more that he needed to say before this moment could be considered complete.
“The two of you—” He looked from James to Hu and back again. “You didn’t get here by accident. You got here because… yes, I know it sounds presumptuous, and you don’t have to believe me, but I’m certain that the two of you are here because you’re supposed to be here. Together.”
That last word from Father Feigenberg surprised both James and Hu. It wasn’t the word so much as the man saying it.
Hu managed to speak first. “Thank you.”