"Roger," Mark said, standing in the shallow snow over the freshly dug grave, hours after the others had left, "I…I finished my new documentary. It's going to be shown on national…" he stopped and took a deep breath, "it's about us…and the others." He let out a chuckle, "well, not us exactly. But how…you know…people like us can live. Be it struggling with poverty…discrimination…" he lowered his voice, "AIDS."
He stood in silence, thinking of what to say to his best friend, "I remember when you came back from the hospital that day. You acted like nothing was wrong, but I noticed something. I didn't ask what it was…" Mark cleared his throat, "I remember, you were playing your guitar, writing a song for Mimi, when I said I was going to bed. And just as I opened the door, you told me that your HIV had gone to full blown AIDS. But you weren't scared. And you didn't cry…not then anyway."
Mark sniffed, fighting back tears, "You told me that it was no big deal. That you didn't want to spend the rest of your days worrying about your death…That Angel had taught you that you had to be strong, and not let it take over."
Mark took a few deep breaths, "Mimi's heartbroken. Halfway through the funeral she…she broke down. Maureen and Johanne tried to comfort her, but I don't know what's going to happen…but I…I'll make sure she's all right. I'll help her through this…"
"I was thinking…about moving out west…Santa Fe, actually," Mark shifted his stance, "I wasn't sure when I was going to tell you, but Benny is willing to lend us—Collins and I—some money to start a restaurant." Mark smiled, "Remember when we—you, me, Collins, and Angel—first talked about the restaurant? That day on the train…"
"We were so happy. All of us were a family. One very big, very dysfunctional family. But we were together." Mark took a deep breath, "That's…why we're thinking of turning the money down. We don't know if we can stand to break this family up, especially at a time like this. I know for a fact, that without each other, we are all nothing. Every time one of us moves away, it's like losing a member of the family. Over the years so many of us have moved away, trying to go on with our lives, only to come back. I'm beginning to think that, maybe, we aren't supposed to move on. That what we have now is what we have all been looking for."
"But I'm afraid. Am I going to be all alone in our family. Of all of us, I'm the only one who hasn't found…someone. You and Mimi. Collins and Angel. Johanne and Mimi…When will I stop being the one to witness and record all of this…will I ever have someone like that? Or will I be all alone in that world…"
Mark paused, allowing a tear to roll down his cheek, "I'd be fine with that," he smiled, "I'd give up anything… everything to be with you guys," he sniffed, "you guys…you're the greatest friends a guy could ever have. I wouldn't trade what I've got with you guys for a thing in the world." Mark fell to his knees and reached into his jacket pocket, "you forgot this," he pulled out a pick and laid it at the foot of the tombstone, "I'd figure you'd need it if you still wanted to play."
Mark felt a little pressure on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Collins standing over him. Mark stood up and hugged his friend. After a moment, the two break the embrace.
(to the tune of the second half of Goodbye love)
Mark: I hear there are some great restaurants out west.
Collins: Some of the best
Mark: How could we ever go?
Collins: (Smiling, speaking) How the hell should I know?
"Come on," Collins said, "you need a drink.