63. The Sun and the Rainfall

Things must change.

This seventeen-year-old stuck in this cabin glancing at an image of a pretty blonde on the computer screen while A Broken Frame by Depeche Mode plays.

This cabin stuck on this road stuck in this town stuck in this nightmare.

He looks at the pictures and knows he has to save her.

If it wasn’t for you don’t know what I’d do.

He breathes in and wonders about the darkness. He wonders if the light can force the darkness to go away. He wonders what doors there are to open to let the light in.

Things must change.

He’s supposed to be doing homework, but he can’t.

He’s just thinking how to save her.

What comes next?

He tries the Zippo lighter, but it refuses to ignite. He plays with the leather band he still doesn’t want to wear around his wrist. His eyes wander to the picture of himself smiling in the sunlight. Then they find the image of the road in the woods with the handwritten quote from the poem underneath.

Random pieces of an unfinished picture. The real true broken frame is me.

The rain falls on the roof, and he longs for spring and sun and light and hope.

He prays.

And deep down, he believes.

We must rearrange them.

So the song says and so he believes.

Shuffle the deck and let them suffer.

What if he’s able to open the door and bring light back into this town?

But how?

Things must change.

The Crag’s Inn is gone.

But maybe there’s another doorway. Another lock and key. Another bridge to go over or under.

Another way.

Iris isn’t there to ask. So who else can he ask?

Mr. Meiners might know.