And so, the conversation between a free man from the high hill and the great gray fortress began:

"Hey, Leslie Moira."

Leslie looked up from her tasks in the yard. She was checking the plants that had rooted into the ground for bugs and insects. Leslie's father enjoyed growing his own vegetables from time to time, but he often forgot the smaller more intricate responsibilities that lied in their cultivation. Leslie took it upon herself to handle those responsibilities whenever her father did not.

Upon seeing Kermit, she stood, walked over to a small maple tree that was growing in the yard, and sat down resting her back against the bark. She took a deep breath and looked at Kermit as he positioned himself into the shade of the tree. He sat down in front of her. Somehow, Kermit felt a pang of familiarity with the situation.

"What's up, Kermit Kinnard?" Leslie said.

He stared down at the grass. In a way, he was begging Mother Earth to give him an epiphany that would make what he was about to say a little easier. The Mother did not baby her child, however, and to Kermit's chagrin, the grass said nothing.

"Nothing," Kermit said. The minute the word escaped his mouth he cursed at himself for sheer stupidity.

Leslie took another deep breath. "Nothing…" she said exhaling, "Is that so?"

Kermit was lost. Any plan that he had had disintegrated in a wave of bumbling nervousness and idiocy. He would again curse at himself after saying, "Uhh... yeah."

Leslie looked at Kermit appraisingly. He still had that same string jutting from his head into the atmosphere. She noticed that he was purposely avoiding direct eye contact, and she could guess why he had come. Leslie decided to take things into her own hands.

"Kermit," she said, "have you ever worried about the future? Have you wondered if things would go your way, or if life would turn out the way you wanted it to?"

"Yeah," he said thankful that she had taken the reigns, "but I would say that anyone does that."

"Yes. So would I. But if you believe that then why don't you do it now? Why don't you say what's actually on your mind? If something's bothering you then you should spit it out."

Kermit got the point. "Okay. I get the point. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such a damn idiot. I just came over to talk to you about Chicago."

"Okay."

"Why are you going to Chicago, Leslie?" he asked. Kermit knew the answer to this question. He just wanted to hear her say it again.

"I'm going to college early to take summer classes because I want to try graduating in two years. After that, I'm heading to a different school to study something else." Leslie blinked. "But you already know that. I told you before."

Kermit sighed. "You didn't answer my question, Leslie. Why are you going to Chicago? Why Chicago?"

Leslie nodded lightly. "I was born in Chicago, and I lived there most of my life. I want to go back to see if it has anything left to teach me."

"But Chicago isn't the only city on earth! You could have gone to any place you wanted, but you chose University of Chicago."

Kermit was right. Leslie Moira's academic swagger had attracted a lot of attention during her years in high school. Some schools literally threw their doors open to her in an attempt to recruit her.

See, it was a well-kept secret that any college, in addition to being an educational institution, was also a full-fledged business. As a business, it was common practice for a particular college to use famous graduates to advertise to incoming students about the benefits of attending that particular school. The logic was this: So-and-so went here, and So-and-so became great. Therefore, if you go here, you will also become great (maybe even as great as So-and-so.)

Many believed that Leslie would become the "So-and-so" of their advertising dreams, so she was courted to enroll in different colleges and universities on an almost daily basis. Some of those schools were so prestigious they would have made Uvrith Ashk drool. In fact, when Uvrith Ashk got word of the places that had taken an interest in Leslie, he did drool. He wondered which one she would choose. Which one would help her on her path to the Sun?

Anyway, Leslie picked at a strand of her hair and held it straight into the sky. She was imitating Kermit's string, though she knew her hair was nowhere near as long.

"You're right. It's not the only city. But that's why I'm going to study somewhere else also. It's not like I'll stay in Chicago for the rest of my life. Why does it matter to you anyway?" She let her hair fall into its normal place. "Just a few weeks ago you said you were happy for me. What's up?"

Kermit Kinnard decided to charge ahead. "You shouldn't go," he said, "I've got a bad feeling. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know that it's going to be huge. I'm just worried. Why don't you wait until the summer is over and just go when the regular school year starts? If nothing happens, I won't say anything when you decide to leave again." Kermit did his best to duplicate Jansen's words before he left. Jansen, of course, was on the other end of Kermit's string working his way deeper and deeper into the cosmos.

Jansen had instructed Kermit to tell Leslie not to go to Chicago at all, but the urgency in Jansen's voice when he spoke about what was coming suggested to Kermit that whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon.

Leslie, in a rare moment, was at a loss for explanation. "What are you so worried about, Kermit? Are you afraid of a plane crash or something?"

"I don't know, Leslie! I just don't know… I do know that you shouldn't go, though," he said looking back to the grass.

Leslie thought. There was a long silence between them. She didn't know what to think. She could tell that Kermit was being sincere and honest with his declarations, but she just couldn't agree to his proposition. That string in her heart tugged at her every minute of every day. Chicago was more than a place where she wanted to be. For some reason, it was the place where she had to be.

Kermit stared and stared at that green grass with intense focus. The quiet was so deep that he could have sworn that he did finally hear Mother Earth answering his plea from earlier. Kermit was so focused on the grass, in fact, that he failed to consider that the sound he heard was actually Leslie climbing to her knees and moving next to him.

Kermit felt a pair of arms wrap around him as Leslie slowly pulled his head into her chest. She embraced him very softly like he was a newborn child. She spoke with an equal degree of care.

"Kermit," she said, "There is just too much left for me to do. Do you really think that anything would happen to me before I finished? Do you really think that this is the end? I carry too much to let it all drop right now. Trust me with this load. Trust me. Can you do that for me?"

Coincidentally or not, as Kermit was held in the arms of the great grey fortress, he felt safer and more secure than he ever had in his entire life. He began to cry.

Leslie was one of his best friends. He didn't want to lose her. Jansen's warning was frightening and ominous, but inside of Leslie Moira's force field that fear was moot. He was still worried about the trip to Chicago, but the fact that she was stolid and unwavering made him consider that it did not matter. He couldn't decide what to do anymore, so he went with the one concrete idea that stuck inside of his mind.

"Yes," Kermit Kinnard said with tears still coming down his face, "I can trust you, Leslie."