LORELAI

Someone knocked on the door. Lorelai sat up quickly and looked around, squinting. She couldn't make out any distinct shapes across the room; it was too dark. She twisted in the bed to un-stick her sweaty pajamas from the backs of her legs. In fact, she was damp all over, as if in some kind of internal heat wave, the kind where sometimes she ended up naked under cool sheets, by herself, not by herself.

Rory was still asleep beside her, her whole body rising and falling. She was still soft, and warm, like a doll. Her hair fluttered into a winding pattern from the overhead fan, and her cheeks puffed out. Her brow furrowed itself. Lorelai let out a breath and lay back down. She laid her face into the comfort of her feather pillow with her lips closed, her eyes closed, her feet in the air. She was enveloped by its mellifluous quality, enamored with its readiness to move, to obey her. There was power to a pillow. There was also a hole. The feathers floated out gently like pixies and went everywhere, were everywhere, suddenly swarming like a flock of angry birds. They rushed to her head, and captured her face, her neck, her arms. She was covered like a chicken, raw, but not plucked yet. She picked at the them, demons they were, swatted, rubbed and flailed her arms about, but to no avail. She jumped up and screamed, trying to run somewhere but getting no where. The tips of the feathers, the quills were poking, picking, pecking at her neck. The blood slowly seeped through to the other ends, the soft, white, innocence.

Red feathers.

Her stomach slowly shrank to the size of a peanut; her throat was dry, stuffed with the things. Where were her hands, her feet? They were no use anymore. She ran out into the street, hopping up and hopping down, trying to escape the stove, the burning…. she was being fried.

Rory!

Mom!

Rory was shaking Lorelai furiously, to make sure she was awake. She hadn't been fast enough this time. Lorelai had her hand on her forehead; she was feeling…. Rory was scared. She was scaring her daughter.

I wonder if they know I can't sleep at night.

I don't know…What did the doctor say?

Be a big girl, sleep in your own bed.

He did not say that.

Well, I think that's what the general sentiment was.

Her lips were dry. She needed to buy a new Chapstick.

I hate chapped lips.

Yeah, me too.

'Lorelai, have you been licking under your lip.' That was all the soothing that Emily would give.

I've learned that it's not as bad if I sleep sitting up.

Like a grandma?

Yeah, but not that your grandmother would do that.

In a rocking chair.

Yeah. Wow, I wish Max were here.

What?

He made me tea the first night we –

'Here you go.'

A long bed against the wall. His hair always looked so perfect. I'm smiling, my eyes squint up. They twinkle. Is that how other people see me?

I know.

He made me tea, and then he sat up with me –

What kind of tea was it?

I don't remember. It was warm. There was a window across from the bed.

Hmm.

– and let me lie on him until I fell asleep. No one else would do that.

Do you want to go back to sleep?

Sure.

It was pretty bad, huh?

What?

Luke's.

Not bad. Just…when it looks like all your doors are closed, you start to remember all the times they were open.

A big grin on his face. A big grin on mine. He doesn't shave, but he showers, and it's nice. We're standing there, I'm wearing some blue vest and a long-sleeved white sweater with stripes. It's very picturesque, like a movie. Like our movie? Movie? TV show? One-hour special? Which is it?

I don't know. I didn't ask Kirk, she said shrugging as if she hadn't asked him exactly how to iron a patch onto ripped jeans.

Huh, well, you should ask him.

Okay, I will.

Everyone should go about their business!

Taylor always stands up on his toes when he talks. He raises his eyebrows, and he's literally looking down on everyone. It's so condescending, and it's not like he even knows what's going on. Whenever he talks, his double chin just bounces, like he's a turkey. Based on some trivial information Kirk gave him… it's stupid. It's stupid. It's so stupid.

Everyone should just do their own thing, he said.

Then Kirk showed up, and sat there, looking stoic in an expressionless kind of way.

Kirk, she said.

She was bending over and she hoped that blood wouldn't be seeping though the back of her pants now.

What are you doing? What are you going to do?

Luke wasn't there. Rory looked around, and neither was Jess.

What about Dean? Is there even a Dean factor anymore? Not very important.

I think we should bring it to the attention of the people here—

No.

On TV, this would be a funny moment, he would spit at me, or bite me. He would take me into his arms and kiss me, and then I would wake up.

No.

This isn't about you, he said.

'This isn't about you, Lorelai.' Emily said. 'Not everyone is out to get you. And you'd be much better off if you let go of your stupid pride and realized that.'

Kirk sounded so serious. Who knew that he could be so serious?

What do you mean this isn't about me? This is about me!

You try to make it about you. You try to make everything about you. We'd never know that poor Sookie had any problems…all you do is talk about yourself.

That is not true. Besides – how would you know?

It's all in the stories, ma'am. Hello, Rory, he said, perfectly calm.

Hello, Clarice.

There was more.

Lorelai took off her pink newsboy cap – the one that made her look like Britney Spears from the back – and set it in her lap. Rory sat next to her and crossed her ankles, looking demure, meek, austere. They were in the front row.

Sookie and Jackson arrived and sat across from them. They waved. Lorelai smiled and let out a big sigh. She was doing that more than usual. She lifted her hair off the back of her neck, and there was a small brown mole there.

Taylor walked up to his podium and banged his mallet. Miss Patty was next to him, wearing all black, no bright colors. Kirk was sitting a few feet from Patty, chewing on a fingernail.

'Lorelai, stop biting your nails.' The door was open, and sunlight streamed into the mansion. Lorelai was so tiny. Well, she was six.

When I was little, I had bitten my nails, so the maid – through Emily's commands – would smack my hands every time she caught me nibbling my fingertips. What was her name? Luella. Luella and Lorelai. I should find her.

Now, Kirk has brought it to my attention that Stars Hollow is being… well…monitored, Taylor said.

Monitored how? Patty asked. She has to move her whole body just to turn and look at Taylor.

My knuckles have gotten wider a little bit. My hands were always too small to play the piano. I hope I can get off my wedding ring. That hair has always been there.

'I'm telling you: one of these days I'm gonna pluck that sucker out –'

'Leave it,' he said. 'It gives you character.'

'What! I don't already have character?'

'Plenty.' He kissed her forehead, and she hugged him around the waist, the waste.

I don't know the specifics, Taylor said over murmurs. Kirk?

Oh, but Kirk was too busy re-buttoning his shirt to hear Taylor.

Kirk? he repeated.

Kirk had such a funny walk. Who would ever want to be with him? His pants were too short for him, like he was still in fourth grade or something. His toes alternated this turning inward and turning outward pattern so that he looked like he was doing that 80s dance, from that one video… who was that?

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da, I can be your long-lost pal… la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la you can call me Al…

What are you singing?

Who sings that song?

I don't know.

Was it Simon and Garfunkel, or Billy Joel?

I don't know.

Yes, you do.

You're not paying attention – oh, wow, she gasped.

Tobias was holding apart Kirk and Taylor. Kirk and Taylor.

Kirk! You didn't tell me that! Taylor shouted. You did not tell me that!

Everyone was standing up and moving around, and yelling and screaming

Everyone was standing up and moving around, and yelling and screaming.

Wow, sounds bad, Luke said.

It was. It really was.

He came around from behind the counter and sat down next to her on a stool. She hugged him around the waist, his waist.

It really was very chilly outside. Lorelai had lived in Connecticut her entire life, yet that didn't stop her from clashing her clothing with the temperature. That's what Mariah Carey did.

Was that in Rolling Stone? The thing where they step out of the limo onto the back alley or whatever.

Wherever it was, it was during Mariah's butterfly transformation period, and so she was wearing  the Manolo Blahnik's that she always wore –

Wow, great shoes.

– and something black, short, and tight. The interviewer had said, "Well, Mariah; it's November. Don't you want to dress accordingly?" And she responded with: "Huh?" Not that Lorelai wanted to compare herself with Mariah Carey; still, though – she could have waited until May or June when it was comfortably warm to break out the open-toed's.

'There is a difference between quirky and tawdry, Lorelai.'

'I am funky, Mother. That is cool. It works for George Clinton.'

What on earth are you talking about?

'What on earth are you talking about?'

Lorelai looked around.

What is going on!? There's just a bunch of commotion here.

'Do the locomotion…' Hmm, Kylie Minogue jumping around in ugly clothes next to a train. Thank God I'm not named Kylie.

Gilmore is a funny name. So is Lorelai. Yep, it's definitely cold out here.

Will you pick up my glove, hon?

Sure.

Thanks.

Hello, my name is Lorelai Gilmore. Maybe not Lorelai. That's kind of pretty.

'That's a stupid name,' he said.

'So is Christopher.'

'It's Chris. It is not stupid.'

'It is so.'

Yeah, it was southern-sounding, like: "Lo-ah-liah! Oh, Lo-ah-liah, come on ovah heuh, deah." But Gilmore was just so bumbling and awkward. Maybe Rory would change it one day. Lorelai Mariano had a nice ring to it.

You shouldn't chew on your hair, hon.

Thanks, Grandma.

Don't say that.

You chew on your hair.

That's because it makes guys want me. Oh no.

Don't worry, that's not the reason.

Good.

I need a hair cut. Will you ask Anne tomorrow?

Sure .

As they walked away – Lorelai towards Luke's and Rory towards home, Kirk could be seen in the background, still trying to wax poetic about "all the things he'd learned from Chicken Soup." To miss it would be okay, because really – How important was it going to be in the end, anyway?

Where's the town meeting crowd? Luke asked.

Golly, I don't know.

Musta been a real good one, then. Everyone needed time to go home and recoup.

I wish.

How's everything? He rocked back and forth.

Can he dance? How's his rhythm?

I don't know. What does that mean anymore?

So morbid, he said.

Yeah, well.

God, this purse is ugly. Cow-printed. Cow-printed. There might as well be an elephant hat that goes along with it. They really should have had better stuff at Filene's. I guess that's why it's called the clearance bin.

'Just clear on out of here!' Sookie shouted waving her arm at the group of dogs.

Wow, I love Sookie. And this purse doesn't even match a single thing I'm wearing. God. I need to start thinking more before I come here leave the house, I mean.

Where's Jess?

In New York.

'I'm in New York/No need for words now/We sit in silence/You look me/In the eye directly/I think it's Wednesday/The evening/The mess we're in and oh…'

Why's he in New York?

'The city sunset over me…'

Ah, visiting his mom.

He should come back.

He is. Tomorrow. Why?

Good.

'Everyone should just do their own thing.'

Do your thing. "Do Your Thing" was the name of an Isaac Hayes song. Taylor in a long black trench coat, sunglasses, pointing towards the camera. Wearing lots of leather, too, on a street in New York, and it kind of looked like the one Mariah was on.

Hello, I'm Taylor, and I'm here to risk my life for a brother man.

Rick.

What's so funny? Luke asked.

A number of things.

Thom Yorke sings that part about being in New York, and his name is Thom Yorke. That was really funny. Rory reads a lot. That's how she spends her spare time.

And what do you do?

I think. It feels weird, not watching Cheers re-runs as much. And I'm old, too.

You're not old.

Thirty-three! That's old. I was supposed to have opened that stupid inn by now, be married with children, drinking hot chocolate on the weekends, and taking strolls with my dashing James Brolin-type husband. But I want nice hair.

Okay.

Luke is thirty-five. How old will we be someday?

I don't know.

His parents died so young.

There was a spot on the counter.

Our house is a mess. I should clean more often, but do I? No. I don't do anything that I ever say that I'm going to do. Why should I open an inn? Why is it even important? His parents died so young… they died so young, and… and Luke had been so young, and when people die, there's all sorts of stuff to sort out, but it can't be sorted out, because they're dead and gone, and you can't ask them anything. And isn't it stupid to think that you're going to mitigate the situation by–

Well, it's more than a situation, Lorelai. It's… I don't know how to explain. I guess you just have to deal, find stuff to fill in the holes.

Yeah, I bet Liz – Nope, no Liz. How is Jess at helping Luke (and his heart)? Luke is proud of him, he wants to protect him… out of instinct, or maybe out of love. Someone has to love Jess. Lorelai, you are so mean.

'Who would want to be with him?' Who would want to be with him? Who would want to be with me?!

I would, he said.

Oh, you're just saying that.

Not that he would ever say that.

Luke leaned against the counter and looked out the window. There was a dull noise.

Can I have some tea? she asked bleakly.

Lorelai put her head on the counter, enveloped by her arms that were growing in flabbiness. From the side she looked depressed, curled up like a cursive 'Q'. And obviously, she wasn't depressed very often, not to the viewer, or to any "viewer" for that matter.

Everyone probably thinks that I'm selfish and childish for the things I've done to my parents when Luke doesn't have any parents, and yet his father's name is still hanging above his diner. That's true devotion.

'You got me a True Devotion card?'

No, not True Devotion. The cards with the big-headed little kids on the front… Rory had a tea set with them. Luke wouldn't know.

'The little kids on the front are cute.'

'Yeah, well, okay.' He was so sweet, so perfectly sweet.

I guess they've all been good guys, in some way. Luke has the clearest eyes. That must say something about him as a person.

Lorelai peeked. The first stapled packet she picked up was about Dean, from the beginning when she was trying to find out about him right before Rory switched to Chilton. She'd guessed that Dean had dark hair, romantic eyes, and looked a little dangerous.

That's how Jess looks! I've seen the way he looks at her, it makes me uncomfortable.

Lorelai?

Before Rory runs away with him… I need to do something.

Why don't you come upstairs?

Oh, wow, she said as Luke opened the door to his apartment. It's messy, she admitted quietly, strategically walking to the center of the room.

Yeah, I know, acknowledged Luke. Jess unpacked almost everything to make sure there wasn't anything he wanted to return, you know.

Yikes, Lorelai said. Her hands were clasped together.

And someday, they'll be wrinkled. I didn't know Luke had a record player. I didn't know Luke was musical at all. I love the way LPs sound.

 "Now," the man said, over the scratches.

He sounds like a preacher.

"What we was tryin' to say, just before we got started a little while ago, is that we're getting ready to do a little walkin'."

Is that Martin Luther King?

I've heard this, she said.

Shh…

"And when you have real change, everybody's thing begins to change; teacher begins to teach a new lesson; the preacher begins to preach a new sermon. And the musician often tries to capture the new things so that we might have melody, and have rhythm as we do our thing. And we're saying that the most important thing of all is that no matter how dreary the situation is, and how difficult it may be, that the song really doesn't matter until the song begins to get you down…."

I've heard that before. I've heard that before, but…

"It's rough and tough in this world, and there's a lot of stuff goin' down, so you gotta walk tall! Walk tall! Walk tall!"

I never listened to the words before.

I never heard the words before. Is that Martin Luther King?

Uh, no. Cannonball Adderley. Martin Luther King was dead by then.

Sounds like him, though.

Kind of.

Maury has that record.

I listen to it a lot, Luke said. Especially now.

It's called…

'Baby, That's What I Need'.

Now? What's happening now? He's not going to tell me, then. He is the last person to find out about anything and I can't believe I cried in his diner. I'm not going to do that again.

What other records do you have?

What? he said. He looked very clearly confused. Johnny Cash.

Let's listen to Johnny Cash.

Why did I have to wear a pink hat with a cow purse? I need to look at myself before I leave to come here the house. Then, this might count for something. Listening to old records… how romantic.

Lorelai tilted her head to the side, in thought; it occurred to her that she had never been in any man's apartment, just listening to an alto sax play. She smiled.