Lost Dreams
Marco and I sat at one of the little café tables in the bar of the hotel. Making small talk, killing time. None of it seemed to fit still. It seemed weird, being normal I mean…well, more normal than before.
"It wasn't all bad, you know. I mean, we did have some good times," Marco said as we both took our drinks from the waitress.
"Yeah," I smiled a little sadly, "remember the pool party. It seemed awful at the time but looking back on it, it just seems funny."
"How could I forget. I don't think Jake's ever been more pissed at me…oh!" he stopped short as he saw the look I fought to keep off my face. Fought and lost…just like Jake. I took a deep breath and changed the subject.
"You know, I saw you on Letterman," I admitted sheepishly. Marco looked mildly surprised.
"You did?"
"Yeah…and so did my dad…" I let the words hang in the air as I saw the wheels in Marco's head turning.
"Your dad? What's that got to do…Oh crap! I told the truck story didn't I?" For a minute I was struck dumb. He looked like Marco…good old Marco who was always in trouble with someone, good old mischievous Marco. I smiled. At least some things hadn't changed.
"Yep, you did. I believe my dad's exact words were 'I don't care if he can turn into a gorilla or not, I'm gonna kick that kid's ass from here to Timbuktu.' Something like that," I said, watching the emotions play over Marco's face. He groaned.
"I guess I shouldn't send him a Christmas card then, huh?" he muttered
"Probably not, unless you want your face crushed in. The only thing that kept him from coming after you that night was my assurance that your security staff would most likely shoot him down before he got anywhere near you." He chuckled good naturedly and was silent for a little bit. I knew he was thinking back to that night.
"That was some wild ride, huh?" he said absent mindedly.
"Oh my God. I thought it was going to be you and not the Yeerks that killed us…" This time it was me who realized the error in their words.
"I have to believe she wouldn't want us to be sad, to miss her so much," Marco said rather firmly, after another awkward pause.
"Do you? Miss her, I mean?" I demanded, a little harsher than I'd intended to.
"More than you'll ever know Cass. Not a day goes by when I don't remember her, or something reminds me of her," he told me, baring his soul. "You…and her, well, you were closer than friends. You were like sisters to me. I can't ever forget that. I would have done anything for both of you then and I still would today." He smiled ruefully, "The bond we all had…well it was something I know I'll never forget." But then his shield were back up and he was the same old smart ass once again.
"Remember how early on…Wow! It seems like it was all a hundred years ago…but remember how we used to talk about what it'd be like, you know, after?"
"Yeah. Man, we were such greenhorns. Remember flying for the first time?"
"Yep? And how you said we could all become stunt doubles-"
"-And jump off the empire state building without a parachute. I remember." Then I felt the tears starting to creep up into my eyes again, so I looked down at my drink. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. It was all supposed to be okay in the end. Whatever happened to 'happily ever after'? Then I felt the hand on my shoulder. I looked up and Marco had moved his seat over next to mine, and had draped his arm across my shoulder.
"I know," he said before I could respond, "it should have all been different. But you have to look back and remember that we were fighting for the good of mankind. That we…we did this so that our children would be, could be free," he told me. My throat was to tight to speak, so I just nodded. He was right.
I took a deep breath and blinked to clear my eyes. He was right…I had to focus on the good.
"Remember the mission with the oatmeal?" But he just looked at me and smiled and I knew he was thinking that my shields were up again to,
"Yeah…I remember…"