Note: Please ignore, for now, the spelling mistakes...my spell check is on the 'fritz' and I just don't have the time to fix it manually. Thanks

"I know, but I am afraid." Jason's speech is similar, but lacks the note of assurance. "What if she doesn't want to talk to me, she might be angry?"

"So at least you will know for sure, but that won't happen, will it? You know Jessica will talk to you. If nothing else, the two of you will all ways be friends."

"I want to, I really do. I just, I just wouldn't know what to say to her."

The overcast sky gently reflects the city's light filling the alley with an ambient glow. He walks alongside a set of tracks that cut through the center of this city. On both sides, dark windowless walls stretch off and veer to the right, broken only by occasional intersecting streets and seldom used back doors. Two sets of iron rails guide the way. For now, he is alone.

"That doesn't really matter. You at least need to go see her."

"I'll have to say something. I can't knock on her door and just stand there when it opens."

"So you'll say, 'Hi Jessica, do you remember me?', and she will say, 'Oh Jason, I'm so glad to see you. Please, come in and sit down. I have missed you so much.' "

He laughs, "Yeah that would be great, then I'll ask her to marry me, and we'll live happily ever after."

"Well, it won't be that easy, but who knows. You shouldn't have too much trouble. You could always get her talking, even that first year at camp."

* * * *

Jason remembers a hike through an autumn forest. The sky above him is an expanse of light grey clouds, bound on each side by the fingered limbs of the conifers and the bright yellow leaves of the birch. The light of the mid-afternoon sun is softened by the overcast sky. Below, along the path, the occasional thick root of a majestic spruce stretches out over the packed dirt of the wilderness floor. A rolling quilt of dried leaves lays over the ground in great patches of browns and yellows. It is perhaps the most beautiful day he has ever seen, but that is not why he remembers it so vividly. Rather, it is his companion which has been, and is now responsible for this warm surge of memory.

Jessica walks beside him. He thinks about how calm she looks, making him all the more aware of how nervous he is. She smiles when he looks at her. Jason wants to say something, something that will get them talking, something that will make her smile again.

Slowly, and as casually as he knows how, Jason looks around his surroundings, searching for a topic of conversation.

"So, you think it'll rain later?" He doesn't mean that to sound so awkward.

"Probably," she smiles and answers. Jason smiles too.

A little later they stop to rest. Jason sits down on the trunk of a large fallen tree. He offers Jessica the seat beside him and she takes it. Sunlight slips through an opening in the clouds and warms his back. He is not quite as nervous now and thinks that, given enough time, he might actually be able to relax when he is near her. He pulls a blade of grass out from the ground and twists it, ties it into a not, breaks it in half, then ties it together again. It helps him settle his nerves.

Grasping at any chance of breaking the uncomfortable silence, he decides to tell her a story, a second attempt at a conversation. Not knowing why, he starts to tell her about the trip he took with his family last summer to a Montana ranch. Maybe because he has told it a hundred times, he's sure he won't screw up in the middle. He tells of how his older sister was afraid of the horses. Jessica is the first person to whom he admits that he was a little frightened also.

He tells her about the huge weed covered hill of horse manure on which he would play king-of-the-mountain with the local kids. He tells her about how if you hit the ground hard when you fell, the weeds would pull loose and steam would rise mysteriously out from the newly exposed fertilizer. He tries to reassure her that it looked like regular dirt, except for it was always just a little warm. He tells her about how they continued to play even when he was told what manure really was.

She talks too. She tells him of her older sister and how she flipped her mom's car last summer. She describes the house she lives in with her dad, and how empty it is without her mom their. Jessica tells him about how she misses her big sister, who is away at college. She explains how hard the divorce is for her little sister, how hard it is for her too.

* * * *

Jason reaches thirty-fifth street, a place that receives more business after midnight, than during the rest of the day. It is noted by the locals, for the fact that it is just out side the city limits. The significance being that the 7-11 on the corner is not subject to the city ordinance prohibiting the sale of liquor after eleven pm.

Jason has already been stopped for cigarettes twice tonight and he is almost out, but decides not to make the detour. He's not in the mood to be around people. Anyway he doesn't smoke, but instead carries the pack in his sports jacket pocket for those who do.

He walks for another hour, leaving the more populated 'rail' road behind. The high city walls have subsided as well, opening to fenced off backyards and quiet rural parks. He is still unsure if he is ready for this night to begin. The city mocks his indecision with a gust of warm wind. Minutes later, a silent snow begins to descend apon the city.

"Look, now it's snowing. It is a sign. I'm going home."

"No, just keep walking. It's a good sign, it will be a little cold when you get there and the two of you will snuggle up by the fire and get re-acquainted."

"She lives in an apartment. I doubt she will have a fireplace."

"Even better, by candle light then."

* * * *

Stepping out of the theater Jason finds he has lost track of time. The matinee' double-feature had started at 2:10, but now the sky is dark and a steady rain pounds against the pavement and cars of the parking lot.

Jason's shoulders are pulled in and his head slightly bowed as he makes his way across the lot, toward his house half a mile down the road. His pace, if not his posture, is that of an early morning 'power-walker', the maturing women who find it necessary to arch their back and lift their elbows high with each large stride, as if at any moment they will break into a run.

The first block Jason is glad he wore a heavy shirt, although he reconsiders this after it is saturated with the cold rain water.

He is startled by the honk of car horn, but is more than pleased when he turns and recognizes a familiar beat-up station wagon. It rolls to a stop beside him. Inside the driver bends over and unlatches the door.

"Hey stranger, need a lift?" Jessica's smile has an effect like that of hot chocolate, and already his body starts to warm from the inside, out.

"Oh Jessie, you're absolutely wonderful," he says sitting down and pulling the door shut. "It's is freezing out there."

"I know. Where too?"

He smiles, "You know you're wonderful, or you know that it is freezing?"

"Both."

Jason warms his fingers inches from the dashboard vent which blows in the hot air of the heater. "I was headed home, but only because I didn't have anything else to do. I'm open to anything."

"Great, if you don't mind we'll stop by my house. I've got to get out of these greasy work clothes and you can grab yourself something warm to drink while I change, then we'll go out and do something. I don't want to spend another evening by myself watching TV until I fall asleep on the couch."

"That was easy."

"What was?"

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out tonight."

"Go ahead."

"Uh, okay. Jessie?"

"Yes Jason?"

"Would like to go out on a date with me tonight?"

* * * *

The twin rail he follows passes a lake park. The brisk midnight air off the water chills Jason's fingers, pulling him back into the present. He notices the snow has blanketed the grass and trees.

"So what did you guys end up doing that night?"

"Actually, we never left her place. It started to rain harder so we played a few games of Sorry. We had a couple of cups of hot cocoa and Jessie made a plate of french fries. Then we both fell asleep watching Fantasia."

"Sounds romantic."

A slight breeze catches the back of Jason's neck, a brief reminder of this morning's trip to The Big Grey Barn, a barbershop which, since they changed locations last year, in no longer in a big grey barn.

Jason walks to a park bench, brushes off the snow with his jacket sleeve and lowers himself onto it. "You know, it really was." He smiles. "Thinking about it even now," Jason stops.

"What?"

"I don't know, I guess, it just feels nice."

"Like drinking hot chocolate?"

"Exactly."

"Tell me, honestly, did the two of you ever have a serious relationship?"

"Yes, well... no. It's not that simple. We would start off as friends. We had promised each other long ago that, no matter what happened in our lives, we would all ways be friends. Of course it was the promise of young teens, but we took it seriously.

"But a simple friendship would never last. Each time we would get together, we would grow closer. For example:
"There was a period of time that Jessica lived with her older sister. The deal they had worked out was that Jessica would take care of her two year old niece, Breanne, while her sister and brother-in-law worked.

"I would stop by, and when ever we went out together, we would bring Breanne with us. At first I thought she would just be trouble, get in the way and stuff, but she was usually easy to get along with. Also, just about every where we went, people would assume that Breanne was our daughter.

"For the first week I had a little trouble with that. A waitress would tell me what a well behaved daughter I had, and I would fumble through an explanation about who's daughter she was and why she was with us, and that we weren't married, and on.

"But after a while I'd learned to expect it, and found it easiest to just let the compliments slide by. We'd even joke about it later in the day.

"The best part was that I got a chance to experience the joys of what it would be like to have a family, the comfort of a constant companion you could talk about anything with, the wonder of watching a child learn and being part of that education, and the feeling of being an important part of something.

"This went on for around two months. It may just have been the most enjoyable two months of my life so far.

"It was a Monday, one week before Jessie's birthday. I called her sisters house and got the answering machine. I hadn't heard from Jessica all weekend and it was a little odd that she wasn't there then. I left a message for her to call me back when ever she got in.

"I called again the next day and left a message with her brother-in-law. He said he would tell her, but with him I could never be sure that she would get anything because he wasn't ever completely aware of his surroundings himself.

"Finally, on Friday, I got through to her sister, and asked if I could speak with Jessie. Her sister sounded surprised. 'Didn't I know? Jessica was on a plane out of town last Saturday night.'

"When I hung up I was pretty shaken. I didn't understand what had happened. I couldn't come up with a reason why she would have left without even telling me, why she had not even called.

"Finally her birthday came and went and I was so upset I ripped up her card and returned her gift. But eventually, after a few months, I was able to put the whole thing in the back of my mind.

"Then, six months later I got a letter from her. Jessica was cursing me out. She wanted to know why I hadn't written her, why I hadn't visited. She wrote that she thought we were getting close and wanted to know why I had blown her off. I had to read it four or five times before I figured out what had happened.

"The Saturday six months earlier, Jessica was in a car wreck. She has always had bad knees, and I guess the crash really messed them up. First thing the local hospital did was get her on a plane to a specialist. She was in the hospital for five weeks, then spent the next few months living with her mom.

"I wrote her back the next day. Almost eight months after her birthday we went out again for the first time since her accident. Of course this time as friends.

"And it would be like that every time. Just as we'd start to get close, something would come up. Once her mom got real sick, another time her dad had drank so much alcohol he had almost killed himself, and each time when we were re-united we would have to start all over again.

* * * *

Jason wakes to a nudge in his side.

"We've been through this before, you know you can't sleep here."

The sun has risen, but is not yet very high. The ground is still covered in a thin layer of snow, and a creamy fog hovers a few feet above the lake surface. Slowly Jason realizes he has slept through the night on the park bench.

"Good morning officer," A touch of sarcasm.

"Good morning Mr. Jones." Jason hates it when anyone calls him that. Makes him feel older than he likes.

"It's just Jason sir."

"Have it your way, Jason. You have never made it to Jessica's yet have you?

"No, but I'll talk to her soon though, maybe tonight."

"I'm sure you will. Okay, now you'd better get home before you freeze to death."

"Thank you officer, I will." Jason rises to his feet and starts the long walk home.

"Take it easy old-timer."

After he walks a block or so, Jason is alone on the street.

"I guess it's just the two of us again."