Painless//Part 4

Painless//Part 4

I keep my mind away from the terror of climbing such a height by focusing on my annoyance with both Nolan and Dan. Dan I can almost forgive, what with everything he's been through, everything he is, but there's no way I can let Freckles save the day. Not with me around—that's my job. Doubtless Arc and Geof, having known Dan so much longer, have their own thoughts on the situation, but neither voices them.

Most of the roof, thank God (oh ha ha), is flat and allows us to step up the pace. By the time we reach the steeple base, Dan has just finished his song and is staring down at us melancholically. His long sigh floats down in a wisp of gray-tinged blue, not a hint of violet to be found. Tony loops his arm through mine and sticks close; he's here, but he's scared.

I think we all are.

"Hey, we were having a great night until now," Geof calls up at the swaying figure. "What's the deal?"

Arc jabs Geof in the ribs with his elbow and shoots him a dirty look I can feel but not see. The night is too dark up here, the stars too faint in this light-polluted area. Shadows cluster all around and make me shiver.

"Don't say it like that. Dan? Dude, it can't be very safe up there. Why don't you come down and we'll all go to Arby's or something?"

Dan rolls his head around and calls back apathetically, "Arby's isn't open, dipshit."

"Denny's then."

"Denny's sucks. The world sucks."

Silence, and the distant squeal of bus tires.

"Tch," Nolan makes a dissatisfied clicking sound with his tongue and pulls his gloves off, the ones he wears to hide the scars on his palms. I've never seen them before now, in the steeple spotlight, but damn they don't look good. He had trouble holding the can of spray paint earlier and now I understand why.

He climbs.

What can I do? I shake Tony off, transplant him to Arc, and follow.

Holy shit, this is a bad idea. One of my worst, probably. But damn if Nolan isn't standing, poised and relaxed, on Dan's arm of the cross, one hand to the center pole. I hoist myself into a seating position on the other side, hoping to balance the weight a little. The side they're on, well, it's already bending, and I can hear with my enlightened hearing the groan of the painted wood, which doesn't understand why it must suddenly support the weight of three souls. Doubtless it has held many others, though not in this sense.

I tune into their conversation:

"Down there, I'm nobody. I'm empty. I try to fill the space, but it doesn't always work. I emptied myself on that wall we painted back there."

"No, you just left a mark. You're still you," says Nolan.

Dan holds his arms out in front of him, palms up. I can't see the scars in this light, but I know they're there.

"And you obviously still feel God, or you wouldn't be—"

Dan laughs, harshly. The sound hurts my ears and I can't help but flinch, which further startles me as I almost fall backwards. Considering that there is no roof behind us…

"Don't talk to me about God," says Dan.

"Too bad. You're up here on this cross, you're singing hymns, you're aware, Daniel, of your supposed emptiness…among other things…come on. Remember they're—He's, she's, it's, whatever you want to call 'God'—always there. And part of you," says Nolan.

"I'm the Messiah," says Dan with a crooked smile that in this strange lighting looks absolutely ghastly. "I know."

"Isn't a Messiah supposed to save people?"

"You tell me. You seem to know an awful lot about God, Noly-poly. You tell me: would He want you to save me?"

"I don't know. Maybe I want to save you."

"So you want my job? It'd be easier to push me off."

"We've got different jobs and you know it," says Nolan in a curt way that Dan obviously understands and I don't. "Different destinies. Stand for yours, however hard it might be."

"Alright, fine," Dan says with quiet defiance. A shiver trickles down my spine and frazzles my nerve endings. Something is wrong. Something is—

Dan stands up. His figure and Nolan's are silhouetted against the night, made part of the city skyline, for a moment, and a short moment at that. Then the groans of the wooden cross become a scream and the arm snaps. I lunge forward.

You'd think they were expecting to just fly away, for the lack of fear in their faces.

Even now, Nolan is grinning as he digs his fingernails into my wrist and into Dan's, the holding link in this chain of potential death.

"I knew you came up for a reason," he says cheerfully.

"I hate you."

"Don't mention it."


By the time we are all safely back on the ground, still feeling a bit wobbly from our rooftop escapade, the first rays of dawn are appearing on the horizon. Everyone's got bags under their eyes. Tony starts a chain-reaction of yawns that even I can't escape, and we trudge back to the car.

No one speaks. I can still smell paint.

"Say hi to Thalia and the girls for me," Geof says as we pull up beside my house.

"What, you're just gonna leave and go home?"

He shrugs and casts a backward glance at Dan, who's curled up in the back seat between Tony and Nolan, his head on Tony's shoulder. Our eyes lock and a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. I smile back, or try to. The expression feels strange and stretchy on my face.

"Godspeed," I say, and head for the front door and hopefully a few hours of sleep before work in the morning.

It's been a long night.