Today it was a little warmer, but the sun was out too, and it shone in Charlie's eyes and made them water. The rays slanted right at him, but they seemed artificial, almost as if someone was pointing a flashlight at his face.
He squinted to see below him. The traffic was heavier than yesterday; the cars were piled up like the cars of a train, all connected by chains and wires. It was even heavier an hour ago – rush hour, of course. Thousands of peoplehurrying off to their important office or restaurant or store. Did they actually enjoy it?
He used to enjoy his job. Before DriveShaft got all caught up in partying, it used to be all about the music. He'd compose at the piano or strum random chords on the guitar, and he'd be pleased with how it sounded. He and Liam would stay up all night, wired off cup after cup of coffee, writing lyrics. Lately every time he tried to compose something it sounded tinny and fake in his ears. He didn't even try to find words. Now he worked at a sporting goods store. He was a bloody cashier at a bloody sporting goods store. He didn't even like sports all that much.
No wonder his hobby was sitting on a cliff and watching cars. He didn't even know how he'd decided on doing something like this. One day, he'd just been wandering around the town aimlessly, then ended up at the Mass Pike. He'd been hanging around it ever since, just sitting and thinking there every day or so. Maybe it was therapeutic to see real people actually active, not just those idiots Dave and Barry who worked at the store arranging basketballs in little pyramids.
He did miss having things to do. He didn't like being so…lazy? Sluggish? It was just that… every time Charlie tried to change up his life, go to a bar or see a movie – something! – he ended up wanting to go home and go to sleep.
Yeah, he missed the island too. He missed a lot of things. He regretted a lot of things too. What would have happened if he'd not taken the Mary statues? They were simple actions. Just picking something up and burying it in a hole in the jungle. He'd never used them. Never. Not even now, when he felt so depressed that sometimes he wanted to sleep and never wake up. On the island, he just wanted them for… reassurance? He didn't even know any more. But she didn't believe him. She didn't give him a chance to explain.
Would he be with Claire now? If he hadn't stolen away those statues, would he be living with her? He'd be happier; at least he knew that. Even if he and Claire hadn't ended up together, Charlie wouldn't feel like such a failure. Like he was a terrible person for taking Aaron, for scaring Claire, and kidnapping Sun. He felt the worst about that. He always wondered if Sun somehow knew it had been him. He kept telling himself that was just paranoia, but still. Who knew?
Charlie closed his eyes for a second, relieving them from the stinging light of the sun. The truth was, he liked it up here. It was soothing, somehow.
Suddenly, there was a loud screeching of tires that drowned out the hum of passing cars.
His eyes snapped open; sure he would witness a car crash. His pulse quickened nervously. Instead, he looked down over the ledge to see a bright green Volkswagen bug swerving bravely out of its lane. As he watched, the driver violently pulled over to the side of the road, directly underneath where Charlie was sitting.
The driver's door swung open, and a young woman leaped out from it, her head upturned to face him, her neck craning, and her eyes squinting. Blonde hair spilled around her shoulders. Her expression was one of shocked disbelief.
"Charlie?" she shrieked, her voice amazed, fearful and excited all at once.
Charlie stared down at her in astonishment.
It was Claire.