The physical therapy pool at The Clinic was known to more than one patient as 'Waterloo.' McQueen thought it apt. It had sounded so easy. Just walk the width of the pool - back and forth for twenty minutes. Boring but no problem. He found out that walking in water up to his armpits using a prosthetic which he still had trouble feeling was far more trouble than anticipated. He pushed his limits. It was his pattern. If twenty minutes was good that a half hour would be better. Or so McQueen had reasoned. He could feel the strain not only in his legs and 'glutes' but, his abs had started to burn. And he had five more minutes to go to make the self-imposed bravado thirty minutes.

McQueen reached the side, turned, and made again to cross back - a distance which seemed to lengthen with every trip. Each crossing was taking longer and he realized that he had been way off in establishing his pace. Next time he would listen to the staff instead of plunging ahead at his own speed. He lost his footing and dunked himself for the forth time. Humiliating - like being in Basic Training again.

"You okay, Colonel?" the P.T. assistant called from the side.

"Yeah," McQueen growled.

When he had made it a bit more than halfway across he heard a voice from behind him at the side of the pool. "All the little fishies in the deep blue sea." Kylen chuckled.

McQueen turned, again lost footing and went under. Amy and Dale hadn't told him she was coming. When he came up she was kneeling at the edge of the pool.

"Hello Colonel."

McQueen was pleasantly surprised at her appearance. Beethoven's 3rd, The Eroica, was his favorite piece of music and at that moment Kylen looked to him like the Scherzo. Maybe a bit tired, true, but she was glowing, full of energy - ebullient. He had no idea of what had put her in the mood but he felt he could add to it. He couldn't hold back. He didn't even say hello.

"Kylen, they found Vansen and Damphousse - alive."

"No. You're serious. It's wonderful." Kylen instantly flattened herself on the deck of the pool, grabbing the edge with both of her hands and leaning her face out over the water. "Tell me. Tell me. Tell me."

"Found 'em on planet. Pretty banged up. Nasty place. Damphousse is still in pretty rough shape. Captain Vansen is in better condition. " He had been crossing over to her as he spoke. It was hard work and he was getting winded.
When he was within arms reach. Kylen's hand shot out. He read her intent and they gave each other a high five. Kylen 'whooped' - the sound of her joy bounced off of the walls and ceiling of the indoor pool. She looked into his face for a word about Paul Wang. He gave no indication so she didn't ask; not wanting to quell his joy. We can talk more later, she thought.

"Things must have gone OK in D.C., I take it?" He said.

"Not everything spells danger. Come on out of there. I have some things to tell you as well. " She turned her head to the attendant: "Amy said that it was okay for me to get him out. " She then turned back to McQueen. "Wring him out were her exact words." She grinned.

The attendant nodded in agreement and McQueen hoisted himself out to sit on the edge of the pool; his feet in the water. Kylen stood, took off her hat and coat, grabbed McQueen's robe and returned to sit by him, handing him the robe.

"Tell me." McQueen said, hoping to distract her from the fact that his legs were trembling. He had pushed way too hard. He drew the robe around himself.

"I saw the most impressive thing, McQueen," she teased. "You knew I was going to Washington and you didn't tell me. How could you not have told me about it? General Radford took me to the Evening Parade."

"At the Marine Barracks?" Eighth and 'I' ?" McQueen asked and gave her a small smile. She must have loved it. Of course, she would have loved it.

"The band, those red coats. But the drill team. How could you not tell me about the Silent Drill Team? Colonel, they are thrilling. I saw them." Her reaction to Marine Corps Evening Parade was not at all unusual. It was, in fact, typical. McQueen could still remember his own reaction the one time he had seen it.

"Do you know what the General told me? He told me that they are thinking of discontinuing it. Because of the War. McQueen, Evening Parade has been going on for over one hundred years. It isn't right. They have to continue it."

"So did you register your complaint with the proper authorities?" McQueen was amused by her worry and indignation.

Kylen took his question seriously. "Well, I wouldn't call it a complaint, exactly, but I did mention it when General Radford introduced me to the Commandant."

"You met the Commandant?" Shit, Kylen they pulled out all the stops for you. It's called a seduction scene, Kid. Or a horse auction. Tell me, did they open your mouth and check your teeth? Be very careful Kylen. Why in the Hell would they give you such a reception? This goes beyond people being able to hum at rocks.

"Yes, and a General Wierek. I told them that it seemed counterproductive to stop Evening Parade. I told them that it was like the ravens at the Tower of London."

"Explain." McQueen said turning to look at her.

"There are ravens at the Tower of London. They raise them and they even give them military rank - like the Marine Corps Bull Dog. The legend is that as long as there are ravens in the Tower that England will stand against her enemies. As long as there are ravens there will be an England. It just seemed to me that as long as there is Evening Parade there will be a Marine Corps and as long as there is a Marine Corps, we will have a country. I guess now, looking back, it seems like a terribly romantic and naive thing to say, but it's how I felt at the time."

"Do you know what James Forrestal, the Sec Nav during World War ll, said when the Marines raised the flag on Iwo Jima?" McQueen asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer. " That those Marines had ensured that the Marine Corps would last for another five hundred years. Who knows? You may have bought the Silent Drill another fifty." McQueen now found that he was shaken by her news. It would be a shame but civilians didn't yet seem to understand the enormity of what had to be accomplished - the enormity of the sacrifices that would be required - to stand a chance of winning the war. But, the Marine Corps loved tradition. The Corps _was _ tradition. To disband that ceremony - things had to be pretty bad. And he was wading around in a swimming pool, walking on treadmills and practicing going up and down stairs. Something was very wrong with this picture.

"You told Radford about the ravens?" he asked her. She nodded yes.
Kylen, your stories and fairy tales. Amazing.
"I don't know what, exactly, the Raven means to the Navajo Nation, but I do know that it is a significant symbol in most Native American cultures. Often the symbol of creation or rebirth," he explained. You know, don't you, Kylen, that you bound him to you at that moment? No, you don't, do you? But that is what you managed to do.

"Really?" She smiled, awed by the realization she had received.

McQueen could see that she was beginning to put things together. Good girl. This is a war. Learn how to use any weapon you can. Information is power.

"I have more news," Kylen continued. She was bubbling. "And I got this from Radford as well, so I'd consider it reliable. He was unable to share too many details, for obvious reasons and I didn't press, but... It seems that a few months ago there was a significant air engagement. That's the correct term isn't it? Engagement? - I got no details except that it involved a number of multinational squadrons - several skirmishes over as many days - and that it hadn't gone well for us. But that one Marine pilot (whose name I was never told) finally turned the tide of the battle. One pilot. Imagine that? And during this one engagement our Marine pilot - who wasn't even supposed to fly this mission - did things with an S/A 43 Hammerhead Endo/Exo Attack Jet that weren't supposed to be able to be done."

McQueen was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with her story.

"There are lots of stories, Kylen." He slid off the robe and back into the pool and began to swim a lap to cool down. His muscles were beginning to tighten.

Kylen ignored his comment. To her this was wonderful stuff. The stuff of legends. "I guess he performed several outrageous moves but there was one particular maneuver. Something about a somersault over the oncoming right wing and an inverted roll. They got the info off of the flight data recorder. People are having trouble replicating that move. I gather that only one or two have pulled it off successfully - in simulators. An incredible piece of flying I was told."

McQueen cursed when he touched the side of the pool. Cursed that the damn thing wasn't longer so that he could have kept swimming away from her and her story. He turned and began to swim back. There was no other direction to go.

"They have a new name for this maneuver, Colonel. It's called a "Queen Six."

McQueen was tired and embarrassed and wanted to get away from the whole thing. He turned and made for the side of the pool opposite to Kylen. He reached the wall just as he was seized with a killer cramp to his right hamstring. He roared with frustration, pain and anger. The attendant streaked past Kylen's left shoulder launching into a shallow dive the speed of which propelled him the width of the pool. He resurfaced at McQueen's side. Amy, came out of the glass enclosed office area.

"Now, what have you learned Colonel McQueen?" she demanded as she crossed the distance to him.

He just glared at her.

"Tell me," she insisted.

"Twenty minutes means twenty minutes," he recited.

"Your workloads will increase but I will set the pace. We will do it on my terms. Do you read me? Do you?"

"Yes."

"Is it your hamstring? Well, flex the ankle. The prosthetic should work the same way as your real leg."

McQueen's face relaxed as he followed her instructions.

"OK," Amy ordered. "I want you out of this pool and in the whirlpool - now. Fifteen minutes. Then shower and get dressed. I want you in the gym in one hour." As McQueen was helped up the ramp Amy turned her laser like stare on Kylen, who had been shocked by the incident and was now more than a little frightened of Amy.

The scowl on Amy's face turned into a gentle smile as she put her arm around Kylen's shoulder guiding her into the locker room, speaking in a conspiratorial manner. "I wanted you to see what you were getting into. You still want to help? He is hard work and stubborn to boot. More willpower than sense half the time. We are going to have to set two sets of limits here. One set we tell him and a second set we don't. Because he won't listen to the first restrictions we give him anyway. That second set is what we can let him attempt safely. We have to finesse him. Dishonest? Well, only partly. This little event? No serious danger. Just an object lesson. Well, the man can tread water for an hour with a full field pack. But the integration of the new leg isn't automatic. It has to be trained. He has to be trained to use it. I want to make sure that he will listen to you if I'm not here. A good dunking? Let's just call it reality orientation. Did you bring your suit? You still up for it?"

Kylen nodded yes.

"Then get into your suit and meet me at the pool in 10 minutes."

Kylen came out of the locker room to meet Amy standing beside an exercise mat. Amy worked with her for a several minutes until she was satisfied that Kylen could assist Ty in regaining his feet if he fell, for he was still losing his footing on land as well as underwater. He would do all the work Kylen just had to provide some stability.

Then Amy tested Kylen's basic skills in the pool - made her swim a couple laps. Put her through the basics of Ty's workout, which Kylen found exhausting. Amy finished by having Kylen "save" her by doing a rescue swim, floating Amy to the ramp where Kylen could rest her with her head out of the water.

The two women talked while they showered and dressed.

"Do you do this for everyone, Amy?"

"To varying degrees. It depends on the person and their families and rehab partners. Most patients do not get free use of the pool. A few do. You won't let him drown." Amy paused. She wasn't being totally honest and didn't want to get started with Kylen on a note of falsehood.

"Most of our patients stay here for another month, but we are getting busy. Lots of traumas from the military. Our other patients at Ty's stage are moving into some of the bed and breakfasts in town. It's simpler to have him stay with us and you visit there."

"No one will rent to him?" Kylen asked in disbelief. It was something one heard about but never actually ever faced.

"There are one or two, who would let him in. There are good people around. Some really good people. And then there are people who want our referrals. They want our business. Summer tourism was way off this year. But mostly, I feel that I owe him this much, at least. You know, I take it, that we were married at one time."

Kylen nodded yes but added. "McQueen didn't tell me anything, but one does hear things." It wasn't a total lie. McQueen had never spoken about Amy or their relationship directly. It was obvious that Amy knew nothing about the wedding portrait and Kylen was not about to tell her.

"Well, we've been apart for a several years. No high drama. And the truth of the matter is, Kylen, that until he gets reassigned, he has no place else to go. He lost his quarters at Loxley when he went aboard the Saratoga. Everything he owns is in storage in Alabama or someplace out in space. I ordered him a couple new uniforms and picked up a few things for him to wear."

While Amy didn't say it, that little bit of largesse had also come under the heading of "the least I can do." Amy's father had disowned her when she had married McQueen. An InVitro was the last straw in their tempestuous relationship. But Amy was over the age of twenty-five at the time and try as he might her father could not touch Amy's rather sizable trust. McQueen had, once again, proved his detractors wrong when he had freely walked away from the marriage with nothing more than he had brought into it - even turning down Amy's offered settlement. Amy had actually felt a sense of relief at paying the bill for his 'kit.'

Amy continued, " He has few friends and they are all on active duty. I owe him and Dale likes him. And Dale finds you.... Charming, I think, is the word he used," she laughed, gently teasing Kylen. "So we set up our dysfunctional family here on the coast of Maine. Come on now. Lets go find the Unrepentant McQueen and I'll sell him our plan."

They found McQueen in the Gym as ordered. Amy marched the two into her office and made them both sign a release form. She leaning against the edge of the desk. " Now, I will set up the exercise routine for the pool." She gave Kylen a meaningful glance. " And my routine will be followed." Her demeanor then changed from the professional to the personal. " The pool opens officially at 8 am. But Ty, if you are very sweet to her and if you can talk her into it, Kylen has my permission to work with you starting at 6:30."

She reached into a drawer and brought out a small ring of keys which she handed to Kylen. " These are for Kylen. Not you," she said pointedly to McQueen. "We will review your progress daily. And I still have you in the Gym at 8 am. Kylen can help you through your routines here or at The Barn in the afternoons when she is here visiting. I'm hungry." Amy left them in her wake.

McQueen snorted his disgust.

"Colonel, she really does have your best interest at heart."

"She is too conservative, Kylen. Pain? A little pain never killed anybody. You pass out. You don't die," he spoke knowingly with some bitterness.

"Unless, of course, you pass out in a swimming pool," Kylen reminded him gently.

"I can't sit around here forever. I'm doing nothing. If you can't live proudly, then better to die proudly," he muttered.

"And how does drowning in a swimming pool because you refuse to follow instructions constitute dying proudly?" Kylen laughed to take the sting out of her reply.

McQueen knew then that Kylen would not be swayed on this issue. He wouldn't be able to work her for points. No, she would follow Amy's directions. He was caught. Again. Ty's dealings with women outside of the military - civilian women - was limited but Ross had told him enough stories. This was probably one of those occasions that Glen would call a "Yes, dear" situation. There was, however, one thing he could hope for.

"Don't tell Amy that story....Please, Kylen. Don't tell anyone."

"All right." She read the importance of the request in his face. "I promise."

Dale and Amy had moved Ty into their (Dale's) house two days earlier. There was no reason for him to stay at the Clinic. He could be handled as an outpatient. Besides, they needed the bed. Business was picking up. The house was an old monster of a Victorian summer home with plumbing, insulation and power updated. Wrap around porch. Circular bays on one corner that went all the way up to the roof. Widows walk and summer sleeping porches along the back.

Dale had inherited it from his aunt along with considerable property. The Clinic was a pleasant bike ride down the road or a brisk hike overland. Rather than the more traditional New England white, Dale had painted it in the more historically accurate "Painted Lady" style and he called it "The Barn."

Dale had for years just occupied the first floor by himself. He then had happily taken Amy under his wing and the second floor had been opened, aired out and occupied. There were more than enough beds and more than enough space for four adults to live - either together or as solitary as they pleased, needing only to meet in the kitchen or dining room which were the only rooms that didn't have some kind of redundancy in the house.

Dale and Amy moved Kylen into The Barn with a vengeance. Glasses of wine in hand as they showed her around the property. Their cats following along. Dale gave her the choice of any unoccupied room she wanted. While showing Kylen her own room, Amy had taken her aside and explained that her love seat could be opened into a bed - which was the only mention of the problems that Kylen had sleeping. She could sleep in Amy's room if things got rough. It was generous and kind and Kylen found herself melting towards McQueen's former wife.

Kylen reacted as she had been reared. She jumped in to help wherever help was needed. Dale loved to cook. Amy didn't. McQueen had never really learned. Amy had been horrified the first time she visited his digs in the BOQ at Loxley. The cupboards were filled with what she learned were MRE's. Marine freeze dried food packets. Kylen cooked because she didn't know any other way to live; in a household full of ten people, it had to be done. While Amy and McQueen sat on the sidelines Kylen helped Dale whip up a chicken stir-fry for dinner. They all ate in the kitchen. It struck McQueen that Kylen was able to modulate the rhythms of her life in a way that he could not. In two hours Kylen had become more a part of the household than he would probably ever be.

Dale, a skilled conversationalist and host soon turned the conversation to Kylen's family. Frank Celina was a professor of animal husbandry at the University of Massachusetts. He had reared his family at Ridge Farm, which had been in his family for one hundred and fifty years. Frank had married a willowy blond art teacher, Karin, thirty-two years earlier. As the result of a car accident, he had been widowed now for ten years. Karin had taken the little twins to the doctor for their kindergarten checkups and the car had been hit by a truck that had lost its brakes. There were some problems the medicine of the middle of the 21st century still could not solve. The twins had survived but it had been touch and go for Allston.

The farm had been and was still a working concern as well as being an experimental station for U of Mass. Karin and Frank raised Holsteins, soy, corn and various and sundry other animals and crops as the experiments came and went. Here they had reared their nine children. Not so much that they had wanted such a large family. They were simply extraordinarily good at it. They had reared nine healthy individuals each of whom held a specific place within the family. Someone had once been so ill bred as to ask Frank and Karin why in the world they had nine children. Karin's remark was something to the effect: "I was young and stupid." Frank had responded. "Because we didn't want ten."

McQueen wasn't clear on just why this story created peels of laughter around the table. But it had.

Kylen ran for her bag and brought back a stack of photographs taken at The Greenbrier. The Celina Family Reunion. The pictures were passed around the table and Kylen explained who all the players were. There were pictures of the whole group, Pictures of the girls. Pictures of the Boys. Pictures by the fireplace, on horseback, walking on a path, sitting around a table. The thing that struck McQueen most acutely was that in all the pictures people were touching. Kylen was in contact with at least one family member in all of the photographs. Arms around shoulders, Hugging, kissing, holding hands. There was one picture of Kylen by herself; a profile of Kylen looking out of a window but there on her schooled there was gently resting the hand of one of her siblings. He must have seen this before in photographs other people had shown him of their families but he had never been so aware of the pictorial record of intimacy before. The simple joy and comfort of being in the company of those that you love.

"I sounds like a well oiled machine." Dale commented.

"It's a Chinese fire drill; that's what it is," Kylen said lightly. McQueen was not familiar with the term and could only guess at the mental image it created that caused the three to laugh again.

Amy helped him out. "Keystone Kops, Ty, running around in circles." McQueen knew the image but was too late to join in.

"They must be beside themselves - ecstatic to have you back." Amy said. Kylen nodded 'yes' but remained silent.

"It has to be a little hard on all of you though." Dale offered.

"It is and in unexpected ways. I'm not in the same rhythm. I see things differently. I don't know how to ... No, I do know how to explain but I don't know if you'd understand," Kylen said. McQueen found himself suddenly alert to the conversation.

"Well, you've had to go through so much," Dale spoke in even tones. "Things they can't quite comprehend."

"It's not what I went through. It's what all of them had to go through," Kylen continued, "It more than just being separated for so long. Hell, I hadn't planned on coming home for years. We have been separated before. We've all gone away to camp or to study and to go to college. But this was different. I look into their faces and I know that we still have the 'chops' - we can still function as a unit. There is nobody closer but I'm missing an element that they have. A bond that they share that I don't and I don't know that I'll ever be able to totally overcome that. It's a very subtle thing but it separates me somehow. I'm afraid that I'll always be a bit of an outsider now. Not so that anyone outside the family would see or know - I don't even know if any of them sees it or even feels it, or understands it the way that I do."

"What sets you apart?" Dale asked gently.

"My death." Kylen gave a small sardonic chuckle.

"My death, " she repeated. "They lived through what they hoped was not real but what they were beginning to believe was my death. They grieved and bonded over it. They found new strengths and weaknesses and they all gave and took accordingly and, you know, the ship stayed afloat. The center held. They got through it. And I wasn't a part of it, you see? I wasn't part of it. I didn't share in it and I can't share it. They have something that doesn't belong to me - for the first time in my life I'm somehow separated." She looked around the table embarrassed at having revealed so much.

"My counselor tells me that I need to 'face my suffering' in order to get through it, but she never mentions my death." She made it a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood of emptiness she had inadvertently created.

"Horseshit," McQueen muttered.

"Kylen, I think there is some truth to that statement," offered Steinbeck who was worried that she was blowing off the counseling and the grief work he felt as vital to recovery. "There is a point to facing your demons."

"Well, of course, it's true, Dale. It's probably one of the central truths of the universe. I know it. You know it. Amy knows it. McQueen knows it better than anyone. The whole damn world knows it. But when you are tired you find that you are attacked by ideas you conquered long ago." Kylen paused to clear her own head and emotions. "It is just so damn annoying and usually handed to you by people who have no idea what you have been through. I know because I asked them. What I got was "The point of this is to deal with your readjustment, not mine," she voiced in a devastating imitation of sickly sweet and impersonal concern.

"It's not something people talk about, Kylen," McQueen said. He felt better when Kylen was more in control. He wasn't comfortable when she started to go "out there." The two shared a knowing look. He had offered - if not precisely shared - his knowledge with her. It had made a difference then and it did again now. Kylen reeled herself back in at his implied warning.

"I don't expect them to spill their guts. I don't need details," Kylen spoke as if he alone were in the room. "This isn't Truth or Dare. But just the knowledge that they have survived. Or the free admission that they really don't know what I'm talking about. I would be willing to hear that too."

"But still, Kylen, no matter how painful..." Amy wanted to say something but she had no idea of how to counsel Kylen.

"If you gaze into the abyss long enough: The abyss will start to gaze back," McQueen said pointedly.

Kylen suddenly laughed and McQueen had to smile. Survivor's knowledge. Survivor's humor. " Nietzsche," she whispered and she gave him the second high five of the day as she passed him on the way to the sink. Dale and Amy didn't quite get the reason for the laughter. In fact, Amy was finding the turn of the conversation unsettling, but both knew it was time to excuse themselves.

McQueen and Kylen turned to the task of cleaning the kitchen which was actually less than five minutes worth of work. When Kylen began to wipe down the counters for a second time McQueen was forced once again to tell her to "Sit."

This time....This time I'm not going to let her switch the tables. I need to know where you stand, Kylen.

"So, Kylen, what's the story here?"

"I feel like I'm fighting every day, Colonel. I feel like I'm fighting against my father, and my family - the people I want most to please. I feel like I'm somehow not being honest with them. I feel like I suck all the air out of their rooms. I want to let them know what I know. What I had to learn. Things you helped me crystallize. It would almost be easier to just keep spreading myself out. Just to keep moving further and further away. Like foam on the ocean. It sounds easier and more peaceful. Just to give in. Don't try to hold onto my sense of myself. This trying to hold on...it's a high price, McQueen. A high price."

"Kylen, No price - NO price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself," He spoke softly but with a strength and conviction that almost frightened her.

Kylen was at that moment deeply ashamed of herself. How dare I say these things to him? Of all people. 'The privilege of owning yourself.' My God, how does he sit there and listen to my big problems? Listening to me vent. Why doesn't he just reach up and slap the taste out of my mouth? She was chastened and silent for a few minutes.

"Kylen you know who you are," McQueen encouraged.

"Not like I used to. I used to know for certain who I was. But It's more difficult now, " she said with some strength. "I have known all my life. I knew when Nathan and I were separated. I knew during the crash and in the mines. All the time up until we were saved. Up until I saw Nathan again. Then it was like the bottom fell out. I didn't have a reason to fight anymore. Now it is all so different."

"How?" he asked quietly.

"My parents had different views on this," she smiled to herself remembering late night discussions with Frank and Karin. "My father called all of us his diamonds in the rough. And he contended that life cut away what wasn't needed. That every thing we went through created a facet. And that he enjoys watching the light sparkle off of us."

"And your Mother?"

"Mom liked to see us as her pearls. That life added layers to us. She could help us through the first few layers and then we'd be sturdy enough to go out on our own as the layers thicken and are added to. Pretty different views of how we grow aren't they?" she asked, not really looking for an answer.

McQueen didn't offer one. They were both valid thoughts he supposed. But he did have a question. "So what are you missing? Kylen, What do you need that you don't have?"

Kylen stood abruptly. "Let's get out of here, Six. Let's go down to the water."

McQueen stood, ready to get out of the house himself. But don't think, Kid, that I'm letting go of this. And don't think you are going to pull a switch either. But let's go. He grabbed their coats while Kylen told Dale they were off. In minutes they were parking Kylen's car at the pier which was all but deserted. There was a Nor'easter kicking up. The moon picked out white caps way past the breaker line. The wind was freshening. Heavy weather was on the way in.

Kylen bought coffee in the pier house, lightly took his arm, and they walked to the end of the pier. McQueen was still waiting for her to answer his question. He centered himself and waited.

"You know how you have a feeling about who you are? Deep inside right about here?" She held her fist against her chest at the bottom of her sternum. "And you know how it feels just about this big too? You know what it's like to have that 'SELF' there? Always there? You just stretch your mind and you feel it?"

He didn't answer and she became silent. Silent long enough for McQueen to begin to think that she had dismissed him somehow from her mind. He decided to offer her a lure to keep her on track. " I didn't always, but I do now. I know the moment when I knew it for sure. It was a ... Defining moment."

Kylen regarded him in the yellow half light of the pier lamps. Yes, he does know. She continued to stare at him waiting for the story.

"No, not now," he whispered to her. McQueen sipped his coffee. He wasn't about to tell her the story. At least not now, particularly after she had told him about the Queen Six maneuver this afternoon. Leave it alone, Kylen, he thought.

"Someday?" She asked.

"Maybe.... Someday..... maybe," he told her.

"McQueen, there is nothing that I need that I don't have. And you make me feel thoughtless, childish and spoiled. "The list went on in her mind. And superficial and flighty. Self absorbed. Weak. Like I'm a coward

"I don't think those things, Kylen." In truth, he thought her a woman of rare personal courage and generosity.

"It is still difficult to find a sense of who I am. Its hidden. Instead of being the size of my fist, warm and strong at the center of myself - it's like a marble. Hard, cold and I'm afraid that if something hits it too hard it will shatter. And I have to look for it, McQueen. I have to search for it every morning. Like a marble it is swirling around. It isn't an anchor anymore. It's Pandora's box. It's chaos."

McQueen instantly remembered a quotation that he had never really understood. That he had, in fact, until that moment denied as fiction. But as he watched Kylen sip her coffee - the weather moving closer to shore - he understood it and hoped that it was the truth - hoped it would be true for her. He spoke it as if it was.

"Unless you have chaos within you: you cannot give birth to a dancing star." He could read her profile looking out over the waves. He watched her face slowly relax. The quote had resonated for her. He then turned to the waves and the wind himself. They finished their coffee in silence.

"I would never have pegged you as an existentialist, McQueen," she said softly, smiling at him as they turned to leave.

"You're the one who always brings them up, Kylen"

"Yes, but, McQueen, you always know who they are."

"Live dangerously, Kylen."

It made her laugh as they made their way to the car.

Next : Chapter Eighteen

Previous : Chapter Sixteen

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