Station, стр. 37
Lilly nodded vigorously in agreement. "I know,right? I think Glen makes the biscuits from scratch."
"What's his deal," Hadder asked between bites. "Imean, he seems so together, nothing like the others I've met here.How does he end up in a place like this?" Lilly remained silent fora moment, enjoying her biscuit, and Hadder took this to mean thathe had overstepped, something he had done routinely in theCelebration Cluster. "Sorry I shouldn't have asked. It's none of mybusiness, I know."
"No, no, it's quite alright, Marlin. We aren't likethose residents who try to act like the Before didn't exist. Weoften talk about the Before and what we miss about it. We also talkabout what drove us here and how we can learn from the low pointsin our lives. In Glen's case, you're right; he is pretty normal.Had a wife and two grown daughters that he loved very much. He wasa tower crane operator, and a good one, nearing retirement, Ithink. He was working on a new skyscraper in the city, I forgetwhich one, and conditions got bad as a storm moved in. He keptpushing as the winds picked up. Thought he could handle it and keepthe project on schedule. Anyways, a huge gust comes along like arogue wave and sends his load spinning hundreds of feet in the air.He tried to regain control, but one of the clips snapped understress, and some items came loose and fell to the ground. A motherpushing her baby was struck and died instantly. The courtsultimately found him not liable, just a sad accident, but he neverforgave himself. I guess you can figure out the rest. He was one ofthe original residents of Station, known as Keys. Most of the Keyshave gone completely bonkers in their time here; I think you've meta few. But Glen remains Glen, a sweet guy who couldn't recover fromone bad day at work. You done with that?"
Hadder, absorbed in Glen's story, looked down to seethat he had finished his breakfast sandwich. He handed the waxpaper to Lilly, who added it to her own and balled it up with thebrown paper bag. "Check this out," she said as she threw the ballof trash onto the Samsara's white sand. Hadder watched in amazementas the refuse disintegrated and disappeared before his eyes,hundreds of years being played out in seconds. "Cool, huh?"
"Very."
Lilly looked at Hadder as if waiting for something."So you want to share your story, Marlin? It's just me here."
Hadder stared at the Samsara, wondering how he couldescape this conversation, wondering if he really wanted to. He hadworked hard over the past few months not to think about the familythat was stolen from him, attempting to whitewash a beautifulpainting that stirred up uncomfortable emotions. "I don't know if Ican, Lilly." Tears began to well up in Hadder's eyes. He lookedaway in embarrassment.
Lilly continued to stare forward, offering Hadderprivacy even in their closeness. "You don't have to tell me,Marlin. You can tell the Samsara."
Hadder didn't understand, but he focused on theSamsara, nonetheless. Its bare black branches remained unmoving,twisted arms that looked to provide little comfort and even lessunderstanding. Still, he stared, narrowing his vision to the tree'sdark trunk, allowing himself to shrink down, become ethereal,penetrating the antique bark and boring deep inside the cold wood.Hadder's world went black as he swam within the Samsara, endlesstunnels of lifelessness, vast expanses of nothing.
Just as he turned to exit, another impotentexperiment exhausted, he spotted a flicker of light in the shadoweddistance. Hadder willed himself forward, squeezing through idleveins and hardened pulp, eventually coming upon the Speck of light,the last crumb of a once vibrant life. Although minuscule, theSpeck gave off tremendous warmth, and Hadder moved closer to gain areprieve from the miserable cold of death. Soon, the Speck took upHadder's entire field of vision, so close they were, and he couldfeel its energy pulsing, pulling, and pushing, locking him in itsorbit.
"Share," it said to him, the singular word echoingin his head, each reverberation growing louder and stronger. Haddercontinued to orbit the light, rotation speed increasing, warmingthen comforting. As he spun, layers flew off of him into the darkbeyond, unneeded armor in this sanctuary. Stripped clean withnowhere else to hide, Hadder invited the light in.
And let go.
Hadder spoke of his troubled years as a young man,drugs and violence preventing any kind of personal growth. He spokeof his parents, their heartbreak in witnessing the failures oftheir only child. Hadder spoke of Mom's cancer that ate away at herover two years, leaving her a shell before taking that, as well. Hespoke of Dad's inability to cope, how he literally wasted awaywithout her, joining her eighteen months later. Hadder spoke ofmeeting Emily while bouncing one night, her soft eyes cuttingthrough the booze and pills to touch his heart. He spoke of how hebecame a better man for her, the bottles of pills discarded, andthe alcohol put back on the shelf. Hadder spoke of going back toschool, earning his Master's, and landing with a respectableoutfit. He spoke of the angel that they brought into the worldtogether, how she taught him more about true love andresponsibility without being able to say a word. He spoke of thesuffocating guilt he felt for acting too slow, for becoming the manhis parents wanted him to be when it was too late for them to takepleasure in it.
He spoke of the accident that stole everything, thatsecond that he glanced back to check on baby Mia. That second thatmay have allowed him to see the truck out of the corner of his eye,a small reaction that may have changed everything.
And Hadder spoke of how he found himself alone in asea of despair, how he wasn't much for friends because he hadpoured everything into his two girls. He spoke of how he treadedwater for as long as he could, but the ocean of loss proved toovast. He spoke of how he ultimately ended up exactly as his parentsknew him, how