As the weeks passed by, Randall slowly got better. The bruises faded, and his eating habits returned to normal, thanks to Cally's Jell-o and vitamin pills, not to mention her eyes and smiles. He often wished she didn't have to work so much, and could return to play checkers and joke about life in general.

He still hadn't told her that he loved her, yet. That feeling was the one he couldn't admit in all the weeks of conclaves and confessionals. It wasn't because he was wishy-washy; no, he was quite certain he loved her. It was whether Cally returned the sentiment or not; that was the question. Yes. He still wasn't sure if she oved him back. Part of him didn't want to face a life where they both knew the truth; the other part didn't want to face a life where Cally remained in the dark forever. Randall had no idea which side would win, but he hoped it would happen soon.

Bob came in to check up on him often, and they shared a few wisecracks between tongue depressors, but they never broached the subject. Now, it can't be left unsaid what Bob thought of the matter; he actually figured it out before Randall did. It wasn't hard to miss, unless you happened to be the aforementioned lover, and even then, it still presented itself shamelessly and obviously. But the lovee...........

If good old Doc Beele knew the deception that took place when his watchful eye wasn't eyeing, he didn't say a word. He himself had often thought it might be possible to take the food up a notch, but never really aired his views in public, mostly because it was a fact that couldn't be denied, and if extremely obvious, was therefore pointless as a topic of debate.

Randall knew that sooner or later, he would have to go back to work, and he dreaded the day. His first experience, as we earlier learned, having not been pleasant, provided him with a rather grim view of the future employment opportunity he would take advantage of. Alice had already assured him they wouldn't make him go back. She also gave him a bit of advice; "Don't go into the space program, hon." It was nice to have a mother figure in a strange world, for that was what Alice had become to him. She would borrow books from the library she'd thought he would like, and even lent him a couple of Randy Travis CDs. Randall had to confess that he honestly liked some of the songs. They made him feel the way the people in them did. So when he woke up with a cowboy hat on one morning, he knew who had given it to him. In fact, he even decided that if it was all right with his bride, he'd have her as the matron of-but then he wasn't really sure he ever would. Because he still hadn't asked yet.

The day began like any other. He ate the takeout eggs and bacon-which he'd found on his nightstand upon waking up and assumed they were his-and had turned on the TV in his room to watch a court show that he liked, when he heard a knock at the door.

"Knock-knock." Zera.

"Who's there?" he asked, straightening up in bed.

"I'm fullup."

"I'm fullup who?"

"Hurry up then, bathroom's down the hall to your left!" She cackled for a while, then calmed down. "Oh, man, that's a killer. Here's your mail."

Randall sifted through it. The usual Pester Bee, a memo from Alice saying he would need to make an appointment to discuss jobs (again!), and a very unusual pile of magazines that floored him when he saw them.

"Macho Monster, Extreme Lizards, Creeple............Zera, where'd you get these? They're this month's editions!"

"Didn't you know about the door?"

Floored again.

"What.........door?"

"The mail door. Pester's rented an apartment in Monstropolis. That's how we get our news from the other world." She breathed on her nails, which were painted pink, then rubbed them on her denim skirt. "Although it's got no real value to me. Being born here and all."

"Why don't I know about this?"

"Oh, you were going to, soon enough. I suppose bein' bed rid, you don't have as much of an opportunity to hear gossip, do you? Well, now you know. See ya." She waved to him and patted her mail pouch.

Randall wasn't looking at her. He was only focused on one thing.

A way back..........without popping onto the scare.......no, laugh floor. So easy. So easy.

The thought burned his brain, until he finally made up his mind to get up.

He had to tell Cally.

Moving the annoying little button on a string that had sat on his bed since he arrived, he got up. Now, not being used to walking, he was still a little shaky. But when an idea comes into Randall Boggs' mind, it doesn't just fly away in an instant. His brain was a perfect quagmire of determinations.

He pulled on the green robe that lay on the visitor chairs, and stuck his four feet into matching slippers. Still quivering, he made his way slowly but surely to the clinic, where Cally was working now.

The receptionist eyed him with a look of disgust, as though she had onlt taken this job for the pay and didn't really enjoy the idea of ferrying patients to the examination rooms, so when she started to get up off of her seat, Randall moved his hands down to say he'd take care of it himself. Seeing his name on his bracelet, she looked it up and coolly informed him that he did not have an appointment. He refused to wait outside, though, and walked in the room she indicated after much annoyance at his brazenness.

Luckily, Cally wasn't seeing anybody at the moment, but rather was cleaning up the exam room. When she saw Randall at the door, she first looked surprised, then amused.

"Hey, what are you doing out of bed? If you wanted me, you could've pressed the buzzer and asked for me." So that's what that annoying "button on a string" was for. Randall blushed in his special way, and Cally giggled.

"Cally, did you know about the door?"

"Door? What door? We've got lots of-" She realised mid-sentence what he meant. "Oh, the mail door. Of course I know about that. Why do you ask?"

"Does anybody ever......go through it?"

"Well, Zera has to, and being born here she's not likely to make much of a sensation."

"No, I mean, has anybody ever gone and stayed?"

Cally stopped wiping at that. She put her hand on her chin and thought for a second. "I don't think so."

"Why didn't you?"

"Do you even remember who I am? They'd boil me in oil if I tried."

"But isn't it better than here?"

"Not really. I used to think so, but I guess they both have their good points."

"Then you wouldn't have to live in fear of being discovered. And since you wouldn't work for Monsters Inc anymore, you wouldn't be a threat."

"That's not how they see it. Riots in the streets. Demonstrations. Imprisonment. Not a pretty picture, eh?"

All of a sudden, something welled up in Randall. It was like puke only good.

"I just thought.........that if we could go back.............if we had a chance......."

"Why is this so important to you?"

The good puke spilled.

"I-I.......I.....I, love you." And with that it was all out. His soul, his heart given to a dog to tear. The only happy part of him was the snake; it jumped for joy much as John the Baptist jumped in Elizabeth's womb, an event of far greater importance, but not lacking in euphoria just the same.

Cally was dumbstruck. Her face was as blank as a virgin snow. Then, it came.

"I............well, I guess.............I sorta.........well, too.....uh, yeah." She never said the words "I love you", but her face had changed into the happiest thing he had ever seen.

That was all he needed.

And that was all she needed.

That was all.

And everything.

All in one.

They kissed. Somehow they had migrated to the waiting room in their stupor, and two cat boys with broken arms in slings whooped it up like strays on a fence. Never mind. All Randall knew was, this was right. This was true.

Let the ski trip come.