Author's note/soapbox: Okay, so I hope this sort of clarifies the confusing end of the last story, or maybe it'll just make things more confusing. There is clarity on the horizon if I can get around to finishing this trilogy. Most of this story is fluff. The critical stuff is at the beginning and the very end…you'll see. Hope you enjoy… OH, and another thing… To all of you who never checked out the Red House Painters (my Max music group from 'Lost Treasures'), and have been grooving out to the new Gap commercial with floating/falling people and the lyrics "It's all mixed up"… stop grooving to a commercial and go buy the Red House Painters CD!

(Scene: Max's bedroom. The alarm clock flashes 2:00 a.m. and the only noise is Max's haggard breathing as he tosses and turns in bed. He shakes uncontrollably, and ever more violently, until he convulses awake. He sits up in bed and, with a quivering hand, wipes the sweat from his brow. Concentrating on slowing his hyperventilated breathing and hyper-drive heart rate, he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. As he gains control of his body, he opens his eyes to look around the darkened room. As they sweep over the room they finally come to rest on the open folder splayed out across his desk. He lets out a heavy breath and then slowly gets out of bed and heads towards the desk. As he sits down, he flips on the light and lets his eyes adjust, focusing on the manuscript lying face-up in front of him. The manuscript is opened about one-quarter of the way through. Next to the manuscript, on the right, lies a notebook with scribbled notes in Max's handwriting. Max shifts his eyes from the manuscript to the wall directly in front of his desk and a piece of paper leaning up against it. He reaches out and grabs the paper - the Preface to the manuscript - and reads it again, for what must be the thousandth time.)

Atherton voice over (imagine the voice of that high school teacher you had that should have retired before you ever had him): To The Skeptic: I could write a book outlining the multitude of arguments used to deny the probability of UFO sightings and recorded encounters on Earth. We, as a species, have yet to travel to our own moon, let alone attempt to understand the technology required to traverse across and beyond our solar system. There are some, willing to acknowledge the possibility of alien life, who yet deny its ability to contact Earth. They argue for the inability for alien life to enter and function within the confines of the Earth's atmosphere. The precept being: if you take a fish out of water it can do nothing but die. This is an argument, sound in principle, that ignores the very nature of the subject being discussed.

V.O (continued): By referring to something as 'alien' we imply that it exists outside of our understanding, defying comprehension. To believe in the unbelievable - the seemingly impossible - requires the opening of one's mind to the undefined. We must look beyond our definitions of 'life' and what is required to sustain it. We must throw away scientific principles, discard scientific reasoning, that is limited to only what we know - this world, this Earth.

V.O. (continued): Until you are ready to see the possibilities of the unknown, you will not be able to recognize the truth written in these pages. The Government believes that you are not ready for the truth. That we, as a species, are not ready for the realities of other worlds and what the implications of their existences mean for our own. Worlds that do not posses our limitations, do not subscribe to our definitions, do not adhere to our principles. Worlds where, if you take a fish out of water, it grows lungs. Fish that can look like anything, even you and I. Fish that can live among…

Liz's voice: …us?

(Scene switches to Biology class, waiting for the bell to ring. Liz is watching Max closely as he stares off into space. Liz frowns at Max's non-response and gently reaches out to touch his arm.)

Liz: Max? (Max jumps at her touch and quickly looks at her) Are you going to have lunch with us?

Max (letting out a sigh and looking away): No, I really need to…

Liz (disappointedly finishing for him): Study.

Max (looking back at Liz): I'm sorry. I know I've been studying a lot lately, I just didn't realize how far behind I was. This Trig class is killing me and I have a couple of papers to write to make up some low test scores.

Liz: Max it's fine. I understand…I just miss you - that's all.

Max: I know.

Liz: Maybe this weekend we could study together?

Max (raising an eyebrow at her and whispering): Like last time?

Liz (smiling at the memory): Okay, well obviously my roof and your room are not the best choices for productive studying. This time maybe we could, you know, go somewhere public…like the library.

(The bell finally rings.)

Max (as he throws his backpack over his shoulder): Maybe.

Liz: Promise?

Max (giving in): Okay. (He leans in and gives Liz a quick kiss.) See you later.

Liz (as she watches him exit the classroom, letting out a sigh): Later.

(Scene: Lunch quad. Maria and Liz are sitting at a table, eating.)

Maria: I don't get it. I mean he can, like, wave his hand and manipulate molecules, but he can't speed read and memorize stuff. Where's the priority with power development there?

Liz: Maria, you can't just plug 'em in and have 'em start downloading stuff…they're not computers.

Maria: Why not? Plug him into you and he's downloading stuff left and right.

(Liz looks at Maria and Maria shrugs her shoulders as if asking "what?")

Liz (shaking her head): Besides, you know Max, he wouldn't do it even if he could…it'd be like cheating.

Maria (as she eyes Michael cross the quad): Yea, well I guess the whole superior intelligence theory's pretty much already been blown hasn't it?

Liz (following Maria's gaze): He's been distant lately too.

Maria (looking at Liz): What do you mean "lately"?

Liz (looking at Maria): You know you miss him.

(Maria lets out a grunt of protest and, before she can respond, their table is joined by Alex and Isabel.)

Alex: Ladies.

Liz: Hey Alex, Isabel.

Isabel: Where's Max?

Liz/Maria: Studying.

Isabel: Right. How could I forget? That's all he's been doing lately.

Liz: Tell me about it.

Maria: That coming from you…Please! You create a study regimen and start implementing it three to four weeks before finals.

Liz: Yea well, you should know the difference between "studying" something and "avoiding" it.

Maria: Hey!

Liz: It just seems like he's avoiding me.

Alex: Well can you blame the guy? (Liz looks at Alex and he continues) What? It's not like we don't know what's goin' on when you two try "studying" together.

Maria: Studying anatomy maybe?

Liz (shoving Maria): Hey!

Isabel (raising her hand to stop this): Alright, it's bad enough walking in on them. Do we really need to discuss it too? He is still my brother.

Liz: Thank you.

(The conversation lulls for a moment as the four of them take bites out of their lunches. After a few moments Alex looks around the table.)

Alex: Where's Michael? I thought the white flag had been waved.

Maria: Mr. Avoidance himself. If anyone needs to study he does - he's barely shown up this week.

Isabel: He's been acting weird lately - ever since we got back from Marathon. It's like he can't sit still.

Liz: What do you mean?

Isabel: Just antsy…he keeps bugging Max about going to Santa Fe.

Maria: Yea, well, unless he's hitchhiking, hijacking, or hiking his way to Santa Fe, the rest of us are waiting until all of us can go.

Isabel: He knows. He knows he has to wait.

Alex (shaking his head as he pops open his Little Debbie peanut butter bar): That guy's our last hope…I've been checking everywhere and I can't find out anything about this chick.

Maria/Isabel (both surprised): Chick?

(Liz starts choking on her drink and Alex tries to cover up his major blunder.)

Alex: Sorry…wishful thinking…is that a Freudian slip - no that would be if I was hoping it was a "her" and she looked like my mother - definitely - definitely not Freudian…have you seen my mother?

(Alex continues to ramble as Maria tries patting Liz on the back to stop her choking. Isabel frowns at Alex, not hearing anything he's said beyond "wishful thinking". The more she thinks about it, the more she doesn't like that comment. And the more she doesn't like it, the more she's not sure why.)

Alex (directed at Isabel frowning at him): What?

Isabel (shaking herself out of her thoughts): Um…when have you been researching?

Alex: Just here and there…you know Friday night here, Saturday night there - not much else goin' on in my calendar. I can catch you up this weekend.

Isabel: Yea…that'd be nice.

Alex (turning to Maria): You in?

Maria: Can't. Mother/daughter bonding over pie this weekend.

Liz (understanding the serious nature that 'pie' has in the DeLuca household): Pie?

Maria: Yea, and if it has anything to do with Sheriff Valenti like, moving in, or becoming family, I'll be calling you from Juvie or the Psych ward at the Med. Center.

(Scene: School library. Max is sitting at a corner table, in the back of the room, hunched over the manuscript. He pauses, shakes his head, then flips the page and continues reading. He doesn't hear Michael approach.)

Michael (as he sits across from Max): That what you call "studying"?

Max (quickly looking up at Michael and closing the manuscript folder): Study break.

Michael: Any better the second time around?

Max (putting the folder in his backpack, thoughtfully): Definitely…different.

Michael (curious): Different?

Max (covering quickly): You know, more entertaining… What's up?

Michael: Gratreaks is home.

Max (angering): Michael, we've been over this - we can't go to Santa Fe for at least a couple of weeks.

Michael: I know Maxwell, just thought you should know how much time we're wasting.

Max: She has to be there Michael.

Michael: Whatever.

Max: How'd you know he was home?

Michael: Called.

Max: Michael!

Michael: Apparently I had the wrong number - 'Bob' doesn't live there.

Max (shaking his head): You gotta be careful Michael.

Michael (irritated): I'm not a four year-old, Maxwell.

Max: I know. Look, we just have to wait a couple of weeks until school's out.

Michael: And what are we supposed to do until then?

Max: Study, Michael - unless you're really into re-living this year? (Michael just shakes his head in disgust) You want to study with…me and Liz?

Michael (stifling a laugh): Study with the two of you?

Max (hesitantly): A third party kind of ensures that we'll actually…study.

Michael (shaking his head): I'm gonna go with a 'no' on that. (Max sighs and zips up his backpack) I'm working anyway.

Max: Friday/Saturday?

Michael: No…Saturday/Sunday. I'm doing some stuff for Mr. Parker.

Max: I thought you were "on" Friday nights.

Michael (with a mischievous smile): I am Maxwell, but not this one.

(Scene: Friday night at the Crashdown. Actually, it's more like late afternoon before the dinner rush. Music: Josh Rouse - Laughter. Liz is talking with her parents near the entrance. Both Jeff and Nancy seem reluctant to leave and eye their daughter carefully. After hugs and one more concerned "You sure you'll be fine?" the Parkers exit the Café. Liz watches them go, shakes her head, and then heads toward the back. She passes through the back door and stops at the sight of Maria at her locker.)

Liz: Maria? What are you doing here?

Maria (disgruntled): Working.

Liz: Wait! You're not scheduled to work tonight.

Maria (as she walks over to the wall and picks one of the cook's aprons off a hook): Not out front.

Liz: What? Why are you putting on that apron?

Maria: It's a cooking apron isn't it?

Liz: Okay Maria, you're totally confusing me and I'm going to have to ask you what my favorite flavor of ice cream is.

Maria: Vanilla. (And with that, she heads into the kitchen to relieve José.)

(Liz stands in the backroom, dumbfounded and staring at the kitchen door. José, smiling, exits the kitchen and spots Liz.)

José: I'd stick around for this (motioning back toward the kitchen) if I didn't have a test tonight. Make sure she doesn't burn the place down.

Liz (confused): Right. Wait. (She shakes her head and enters the kitchen, finding Maria examining the various grill tools.) What are you doing?

Maria: What does it look like I'm doing - cooking. Thanks to you I might add.

Liz: What! Maria, you can't cook!

Maria (turning to Liz): No actually, remember before you went all 'girlfriend in a coma' and your dad went into serious panic mode about José going back to school and not being able to work any more night shifts and we all got that nice little kitchen safety tour and lecture? (Maria points a spatula at Liz.) Well, technically that, and the fact that we (pointing the spatula at Liz and then herself) have food handler's permits…means that we can.

Liz: Maria, oh my God, I'm not talking technicalities here. I'm talking talent - you cannot cook.

Maria: Thanks for the support. Next time we do kareoke at The Pie I'm so making fun of you.

Liz: Support? Hello, I'm quoting you... quote - "I can't cook" - end quote.

Maria: Yea well, the next time you decide to get all nookie in the janitor's closet can you tell me please so I don't go defending your honor and wagering on it?

Liz: What?

Maria: Never mind…just know that I will be getting you back for this.

Liz: Maria, I don't understand…what are you talking about? The "janitor's closet" was weeks ago…

(The door jingles out front as Michael and Isabel walk in. Liz and Maria look through the pickup window and Maria turns away in disgust.)

Maria: Ask him.

(Liz just looks at Maria, dumbfounded yet again. Maria begins examining the deep-fat fryer and Liz turns to go talk to Michael. She passes Isabel coming through the swinging door, and confronts Michael at the jukebox near the entrance.)

Liz: What's going on? Why aren't you cooking tonight?

Michael: Got it covered. You got a key for this thing (motioning to the jukebox)?

Liz: Okay…Okay, Maria would never in her sane mind agree to cook for you. What did you do?

Michael (looking for the opening to the jukebox): Just a friendly wager.

Liz: Oh my God, this is so not good. My parents would pick tonight of all nights for dinner, a movie, and some stargazing…(She looks at Michael suspiciously.) You picked tonight on purpose didn't you?

Michael (finding the keyhole and looking up at Liz with an outstretched hand): The key.

Liz (confused): The key? Why do you want the key?

Michael (smiling): I've got a new disk.

Liz (eyeing Michael suspiciously as he pulls out a disk from his jacket): You listen to UB40?

Michael: No - got it from Alex.

Liz: Alex? (She looks at the CD, the grin on Michael's face and back to the kitchen.) Do I want to know why you want to put that CD in the jukebox?

Michael: No.

Liz: If I don't give you the key, are you going to try and open it anyway…potentially resulting in me having to call the Fire Department?

Michael: Just give me the damn key!

Liz (reluctantly reaching into her pants pocket for the master key ring and, finally, handing it over to Michael): This…is going to be ugly.

(Michael takes the keys and returns his attention to the jukebox. Liz, letting out a sigh, turns toward the back. She pauses before pushing the door open, and after one more deep breath, finally breaks down and enters the backroom.)

Maria (standing at the kitchen doorway, to Liz): What's he doing with the jukebox?

Liz (to Isabel in uniform): What are you doing here?

Maria (now looking at Isabel): I thought you quit.

Isabel (sighing as she turns to the two of them): I did, but my parents reneged your dad's offer of not needing a two-weeks notice.

Maria: Two weeks? That's only, like, five more shifts with finals coming up.

Isabel: I know.

Liz: Max said you had to find a summer job.

Isabel (as she turns her attention back to her locker): This is all his fault for being mommy and daddy's good little worker boy… Mr. Goddamn Responsible…

Maria: Wait. Are you back for two weeks or the summer?

Isabel: Two weeks…Clinique is hiring…

Maria (laughing): Wait a second… Let me get this straight…you're trading in serving people and cleaning up after them for actually having to be…nice…to people, trying to make them look good, and then having to lie about the after-effects?

(Isabel steps away from her locker and glances at Maria. She looks at her thoughtfully for a few moments as Maria continues to laugh.)

Isabel: You know, I like the longer-hair look. It works for you…

Maria (stops laughing and looks at her, taken aback by the compliment): Thanks, I've been trying to grow it out.

Isabel (shrugging her shoulders and putting her antenna on): See? Lying's not really a problem.

(Maria's face falls into a scowl and Isabel just smirks. The silence is broken as Agnes enters through the back door and the bells out front start jingling.)

Isabel: Work calls.

(Isabel shuts her locker and heads for the front. Maria glares after her and then, pointedly at Liz for a moment, before turning back to the kitchen. She's about to push open the kitchen door when the jukebox comes on with the UB40 song "Rat In Mi Kitchen". Maria spins on her heels like a bat out of hell and makes a bee-line for the door, but is stopped short by Liz. Liz firmly holds onto Maria's shoulders as she turns her around and pushes her toward the kitchen.)

Maria: I just think you should know - I'm sooo killing Alex.

(Liz continues to push Maria toward the kitchen and, as they pass the wall of aprons, she reaches out and grabs a cook's one.)

Liz: If the customers…um…don't mutiny first, I'll grill…you do everything else.

(Scene: UFO Center. Max is in the library. He holds a stack of books in one arm and a sheet of paper in his other hand. He looks at the list he holds and moves down the row until he comes to the next book on it. He pulls the book, adds it to the pile in his arms, and moves on to the next one. His pile of books grows unmanageable, and he walks over to the desk setting them down with the others.

All the books have some sort of Native American connection to them - history, research, art, or some other cultural aspect. Max lets out a sigh and then returns to the shelves. He pulls another book, and then another one, and then stops. He looks down at his list "Introduction to the Traditions and History of the Mescalero Apache". Max finds the book on the shelf and then slowly looks around the library room, confirming that he's all alone. With his index finger he pushes the book into the shelf until it falls in-between the two tall bookshelves. He squats down to see if the book is visible from the bottom shelf and, when satisfied that it isn't, he stands up and moves on to the next book and again stops.

Max stares at the bookshelf. He's eyes focusing, not on the book he wants, but on the book next it - the one he's been purposely forgetting and avoiding - Atherton's "Among Us". He continues to stare at the book - waging an inner battle over whether to take it or not. This isn't the first time in the last week that he's fought this war, but it's the first time that his "need to know" overcomes his "need to deny what he thinks he already knows". Closing his eyes, Max takes the book from the shelf, slips it under his shirt and tucks it into the back of his pants. He stands there for a moment, before finally looking down at his list and moving on to the next book. As he reaches for the book, the door opens and Milton walks in.)

Milton: How's it coming?

Max: Good - there's just a few books I can't find from the list…

Milton: That's okay, I've got the article search printing out…30,000 hits just using 'alien' and 'Native American'…and that's only the beginning. We've still gotta search under 'extra terrestrial', 'ufo', 'American Indian'…

Max: Did you say 30,000?

Milton: Don't worry Max, I won't make you find all of them. We'll go through and highlight the ones focusing on the southwest, and then pick out the articles that sound good - those are the ones you'll find. We should have a lot of them in the periodical library - but that only goes back to the 60's; some of the older stuff we might have to find on-line or get through inter-library loan with the public library.

Max (under his breath): Right, just those ones…

Milton: It's gonna be big. I can feel it Max. No more tourist trap museum - this is gonna put us on the map. We'll finally be taken seriously…we're moving up; from conspiracy theories to scientific ones. This is just the beginning Max - just the beginning…

(Milton sort of zones-out into his thoughts, and Max just keeps hearing the words "30,000" and "just the beginning" ringing in his ears…it's gonna be a long summer.)

(Scene: Crashdown. Music: Stretch Princess - Sorry. Michael sits at the counter sipping his drink and eyeing the chaos around him with a smile. A sci-fi writers convention is in town and, by the looks of the Café, they've all chosen the Crashdown to eat. The booths are packed and there's a substantial wait to be seated. Michael's eyes survey the scene and then, finally, return to the pick-up window. From his seat he can see Liz frantically flipping burgers and trying to keep the orders straight. Maria crosses in and out of his line of vision as she runs around the kitchen finishing orders with salad, french fries, and whatever else.

Maria grabs a couple of plates and places them up on the pick-up counter. She rings the bell and, as she turns to leave, catches Michael watching her. She turns back, facing him full on, and stares at him as if begging him to bring it on. Michael just smiles at her and she turns away disgusted. Michael's still looking in the general direction of the kitchen when Alex comes up and sits down on the stool next to him, placing a chess-game box on the counter.)

Alex (looking around the café): Man, it's gonna take at least a couple of hours before we can get a table to play at. What's going on?

Michael (still looking at the kitchen): Convention…sci-fi something…

Alex (nodding his head as he continues to look around): Aaah, the signs of summer…let the freak-show season begin... (Alex finally realizes that Michael's not really paying attention to him and he follows Michael's gaze to the kitchen) Hey, did I miss it?

Michael: Yea, but somebody's already played it again. (He turns to Alex with a grin on his face.)

Alex: What'd she do?

Michael: Nothing yet.

Alex (sounding worried): Nothing?

Michael: Just stayed back there (he motions to the kitchen).

Alex (shaking his head): Not good, my friend…

Michael: She'll get over it.

Alex: I'm not worried about her. (Michael looks at Alex and Alex looks at the pick-up window where Maria is glaring at both of them. Alex smiles innocently and Maria mouths the word "dead" clearly to him. Alex turns back to Michael) Yea, not worried about her… (Michael looks back to the window and Maria just smiles at him.)

Isabel (as she sets down a drink for Alex): Hey.

Alex: Hey.

Michael (sounding irritated): Hey, when's my food coming?

Isabel: Okay, do you really want me to go tell them you're complaining about the food?

(The bell rings as Liz throws another plate on the counter and Isabel shakes her head at Michael as she leaves for the window. As Isabel takes the plate, she furrows her brow and looks back into the kitchen.)

Isabel: Is something burning?

Maria: The 'house special'…

(Isabel looks at Liz.)

Liz (shrugging her shoulders as she flips the extremely burnt burger): Michael's dinner.

(Isabel lets out a laugh and then turns away from the counter.)

Isabel (smiling, as she passes Alex and Michael): Your burger'll be right out.

(Both Michael and Alex watch Isabel walk past them and then turn their heads back toward the kitchen, again finding Maria smiling at them.)

Alex: Dude, I would have stuck to drinks.

Michael: Like they can tell which order's mine.

Alex (looking sideways at Michael and shaking his head, trying not to laugh): Right.

(Alex takes a drink from his glass and watches Michael. After a few minutes the swinging door to the back opens and Maria enters the front, looking like a disaster and carrying a plate of food. She heads toward Michael and Alex, and plops the plate down in front of Michael. Michael looks at the plate of way over-cooked fries and burger, and then back up at Maria.)

Maria: Enjoy.

(Alex pokes his fork at the fries and starts laughing.)

Maria (looking at Alex): Take a good look buddy that's all you're getting tonight too.

Alex (pointing to his chest): Me?

Maria: The day he (she nods at Michael) listens to UB40 is the day Liz and I take you upstairs, dress you up, and practice make-up and make-over techniques like we did in fifth grade. (Isabel and Michael both laugh.)

Alex (under his breath): Ouch.

Michael (to Maria): Looks like you need one now.

Maria: Bite me.

Michael: I'd rather bite this burger.

Maria: Well then, don't let me keep you.

(Maria turns her body to fully face Michael. Resting her hands on her hips she holds his gaze, egging him on. Michael doesn't waver, but picks up the hamburger and takes a bite. Alex makes gagging noises while trying not to laugh and Maria looks at him.)

Maria (to Alex, dead serious): Two weeks…The Pie…I'm bringing costumes and her (she points to Isabel).

Alex (panicky): Hey now, I think my humiliation quota was just satisfied…

Maria: You'll wish.

(Maria turns around and heads back to the kitchen. As she passes through the swinging door, Michael spits out the burger and Alex and Isabel crack up.)

(Scene: Later in the evening. Music: Vertical Horizon - Everything You Want. Alex and Michael have moved to the back table as the evening rush has dwindled. The chessboard is set out in front of them, Alex is white and Michael is black, and Alex is in the middle of explaining the different pieces.)

Alex (holding up a knight): Okay, the knight is the only piece that can jump over other pieces and it can only move in a combination of one's and two's. (Michael furrows his brow and Alex begins to demonstrate) Like, one up and two left, or, two up and one right…got it?

Michael: Yea, whatever. This guy (he points to a piece)…

Alex: The bishop…

Michael: Whatever…does diagonals, this one (points to another piece)…

Alex: The rook…

Michael: …does vertical and horizontal, and that guy (points to the knight) does L's…what about this one (points to the queen)?

Alex: The queen. (He reverently picks up his queen) She is the beholder of all power. She can move in any direction for any number of spaces.

Michael (pointing to the king): And this one?

Alex: He can only move one space at a time.

Michael: That's it?

Alex: Yea, this is a matriarchy…the king just sits there and gets captured. You ready? (Michael nods and Alex moves his center pawn two spaces.)

Michael: Wait…

Alex: White always goes first.

Michael: Now you tell me.

Alex: Oh, and before I forget…(Alex reaches into his backpack and pulls out some books, Idiots Guide to Chess, Chess for Beginners - a picture guide, Chess Master - at any age, Art of Chess, and Chess for Dummies) here you go.

Michael (looks at the books and frowns): What do you do all day - hang out with girls and play games?

Alex (spreading his hands on either side of the chessboard): This…is…not…a…game. This is a metaphor for life, man…the strategy, the challenge, the sacrifice, the focus, the ultimate goal - survival. (Michael just looks at Alex and Alex shakes his head.) Just move, you'll see.

(Michael moves a pawn, quickly followed by Alex moving another piece. Michael, a little taken aback by how confident and quickly Alex moved, takes a minute to think about his next move. The table falls into the serious silence of concentration. Isabel delivers drinks to a table up front and, as she returns to the pick-up window for an order, she shakes her head at Michael and Alex.)

Liz (setting Isabel's order on the counter and following her gaze): I give it five minutes, ten, max. (Isabel looks at her.) He doesn't have a chance.

Isabel (looking back at the table): He constantly surprises me.

Liz (also looking at the table): I don't think a lot of people give him much credit, you know… can't get past appearances.

Isabel: There's so many layers there and not everyone gets to see them.

Liz (looking at Isabel and then back to the table): Only the people he wants to have see them…

Isabel: He's a great guy isn't he? I mean he doesn't have to care but he does…he really does.

Liz (looks at Isabel again, then back at Michael, squinting): Just don't tell Maria he doesn't have to care.

Isabel (quickly looking from Alex to Liz): What? Are you talking about Michael?

Liz (looking from Michael to Isabel): Yea, wait, are you talking about Alex?

Isabel (cursing herself): This food's cold.

(Isabel grabs the plate and makes a break for it. Liz watches her go with a smile on her face and then glances back at the table just in time to see Alex claim Michael's knight.)

(Scene: After closing. Liz and Maria are sitting on the backroom couch looking completely spent and like total wrecks.)

Liz: I don't think I ever want to eat another hamburger again.

Maria: Two words for you Lizzie - deep-fat fryer…beyond describable disgust. I think I'm breaking out just from standing next to it…(She rubs her hands through her hair as if ringing it out.) I'm like a bottle of Canola here…you could put a spout in me and it would like pour out. I so need to shower.

Liz: I don't think I can get off the couch. I'm like…stuck. How do they do this and still have energy to clean?

Maria: How do they do this and not be all toxic from the fat?…Do we have to clean?

Liz: If we don't, Dad'll think it was Michael.

Maria: And your point is…?

Liz: Maria.

Maria (shaking her head): Oh okay, like picking the busiest day of the goddamn week doesn't deserve just a little wrath from your dad.

Liz: What were you thinking… betting in the first place?

Maria: Oh, don't go there chica. This is, may I remind you, ultimately your fault. (She lets out a sigh) Besides, it was worth it just for the mental pictures I got imagining Michael waiting tables. (She rolls her head to Liz.) Damn you and your lack of restraint.

Liz (smiling): Would you've made him wear the antenna?

Maria: Hell yea, the antenna, the apron…I thought about the dress, but I wasn't sure I could hold him down long enough to put it on him.

Liz: Now that's definitely worth betting for…

(They both start laughing and Isabel wheels the mop and bucket through the swinging door.)

Isabel: One day down…four more to go.

Liz (still laughing): Oh come on Isabel, you know you're gonna miss it here.

Isabel (putting the mop away and turning to Liz and Maria pointing to the front of her uniform): Miss this? Do you know what this is? Regurgitated space fries. I'm so very over this. (She swipes her hand over her uniform and cleans herself off.)

Maria: Then why'd you stay so long? You could've bailed weeks ago…

Isabel: Right, only to be brought back by your begging ass.

Maria: Hold on, helping-hand-Barbie. Let's clarify. I didn't ask you for anything; you just showed up here.

Isabel: And were you going to ask?

Maria: Okay, that is so not the point. The point is, you know you're going to miss us. You can't stay away… a week, tops, and you'll be back here begging to use the milkshake machine - and the foods not free anymore you know.

Isabel: Okay, who's missing who here? (Isabel makes a sweeping motion with her hand over the floor and it's sparkling clean.)

Maria (nodding): Yea you win…gonna miss that…definitely going to miss that.

Liz: Hey, can you do that in the kitchen? I'll owe you…I promise free food for life…

Isabel (squinting at Liz for a moment then heading toward the kitchen): Keep your free food for tonight's food poisoning victims…but you will owe me.

Liz (as Isabel disappears into the kitchen): Anything! (Liz sighs and then turns her head to Maria.) I think I'm seriously going to miss her.

Maria (shaking her head): No you won't.

Liz: Maria!

Maria: Trust me. (Liz looks sideways at her and Maria continues.) Okay, when was the last time Alex went to the Mall by himself?

Liz: Ummm…never.

Maria: Right! The way I see it, not only are we going to the Mall everyday this summer, but we're getting free stuff out of it too. He's totally at our mercy - putty in our hands.

Liz: Okay, Alex has always been putty in our hands…

Maria: Yea, but that was just to get him to do things for us - this is actually getting stuff from him. (She rolls her head to Liz and smiles) I mean who's he gonna buy Clinique stuff for - his mom? Please!

Liz (hitting Maria): You are so bad.

Maria: Me? Trust me sister. After ten straight days of going to the Mall with him, you'll be asking for stuff too…just wait.

Liz: He's not that bad. It's not like he'll want to go every day.

Maria: Wanna bet?

Liz: Are you sure you wanna do that with your record?

Maria (shoving Liz): Shut up. I'm telling you, Alex is so…

Alex (standing in the doorway): What? (Both Liz and Maria jump at Alex's voice, and quickly turn to him.) Oh, don't let me interrupt this…"Alex is so…" what?…I'm thinking "handsome", "charming"…pick an adjective here…

Maria: "Dead". How's that one for you?

Alex: Come on DeLuca. You're just mad you didn't think of it first.

Maria: Can't talk your way outta paying for this one Alex… Just remember, when you're on stage at The Pie doing your best Gloria Gayner, you asked for this…oh, and when you want to go to the Mall in a couple of weeks, you're gonna have to do some serious groveling…

Alex: Okay, that first part I'll contest later, but …the Mall? You been sniffin' something besides cypress oil back here?

Maria: Just a little forewarning, you know. Give you time to practice your begging and ass-kissing skills. I'm gonna want to see some improvement from this year's whole prom fiasco.

Alex (looking at Liz): Is it just me or is she talking crazy?

(Liz shakes her head and gets out of answering by the kitchen door opening and Isabel coming into the back room.)

Isabel (to Alex): Hey.

Alex: Hey, you ready? (He points to Maria.) She's freakin' me out.

Isabel: Yea, let me lock the front door…

Liz: Don't worry about it - you two take off, I'll get it.

Isabel (after looking pointedly at Liz): Thanks.

Alex (to Liz): Call me if you have any problems with her (motioning to Maria).

Liz (covering Maria's mouth): Go before she brings up fifth grade again.

Alex: Spoken like a wise woman…(to Isabel) My lady…Vamoose!

(Alex grabs Isabel's coat from the rack and they exit through the back door. Liz rests her head against Maria's shoulder and lets out a sigh.)

Maria: "Vamoose" and he thinks I'm sniffing something here. What was that?

Liz: Testosterone…sweet huh? Our boy finally beat up somebody his own sex.

Maria: What? Who? Michael?

Liz: He was thoroughly kicking his ass for two hours straight.

Maria: Too bad it wasn't literally instead of figuratively.

Liz: Doesn't matter, both leave considerable bruises on the male ego.

Maria: True. So you think he'll go home and make his dad proud tonight?

Liz: No question.

Maria: Tom Cruise or Harrison Ford?

Liz: Oh, totally Tom Cruise… Top Gun, A Few Good Men, Mission Impossible 1 and 2… They'll be bonding all night long.

Maria: I'm kinda sad I'm gonna miss it.

Liz (yawning): Me too.

Maria (looking at Liz): It'll be brief - he'll be back in the morning begging for a 'chick' fix. Testosterone overdose…(she shakes her head) very ugly. (Liz yawns again and Maria sighs.) Go get outta here. I'll close.

Liz: You sure?

Maria: Yes, but you better leave before everything we did tonight starts coming back to me.

Liz (sitting up and looking at Maria): Call me tomorrow before you do anything drastic with your mother.

Maria: You know how I am. I can't control myself sometimes…

Liz: Promise me.

Maria: It's probably nothing, you know - just another premature mid-life crisis. (Liz just looks at her) Fine, I promise…no violent or irrational outburst without your consent.

Liz: Thank you. It won't be that bad - whatever it is - just remember you've been through worse…we've been through worse and we'll get through worse.

Maria: You're hopeless. You know that…with all the optimistic crap…

Liz (as she gets off the couch): I know, but somebody's got to do it. Look who I'm dealing with.

Maria (throwing a towel at her): Good night.

Liz: Night.

(Music: Whiskeytown - Turn Around.)

(Liz heads up the stairs to the apartment. Maria watches her go and sits quietly on the couch for a few moments before reluctantly getting up. She's about to push the door to the front open when she spots Michael sitting at the corner table reading one of Alex's chess books. If she wasn't so pissed at him she'd probably think it was cute. No not cute…slightly sexy…the way he runs his hand through his hair when he's frustrated, and the way his brow furrows when he doesn't understand, and…

Maria turns away from the door. Sometimes being pissed is really hard to do, especially when you're lonely. She hangs up her cook's apron on a hook as she heads to her locker. She opens her locker door and is about to throw her hair net in when she stops. She looks around the room as tears slowly start to form in the corner of her eyes. She swallows and then hesitantly reaches into the locker, carefully pulling out her dad's fixed John Denver tape. She holds it to her chest and lowers her head, letting unexpected tears fall.

After a few moments, Maria collects herself and pushes the backroom door open, just as Michael reaches for the front door to exit the Café.)

Maria: Do you have any idea how frustrating you are?

Michael (with his back to her): No where near as frustrating as you are.

Maria (letting out a sigh and shaking her head): God, can you just stop, please? Can we just…stop this? (Michael slowly lowers his hand from the door handle.) I mean…I know this is what I signed up for…you know, the relationship rollercoaster ride with the loopdy-doos and corkscrews but can we just, like, get off of it for a while…and go ride the…merry-go-round or something?

Michael (finally turning to face her): Merry-go-round?

Maria: You know what I mean…Look, you said stuff…I said stuff…okay? We both said stuff. Can we just stop…saying stuff and…hurting each other? I don't want to do this anymore. (The tears well in her eyes and she blinks them away.) You hurt me Michael. You hurt me like no one can…and you infuriate me and push me until I want to wring your neck and kick your ass back to wherever you're from. (She pauses and pulls out the fixed John Denver tape from her apron pocket.) And then you do something…that reminds me why I'm on this ride. (She looks at the tape in her hand and then back up at Michael.) Because, in your own twisted way, you can love me like no one can…even if you can't say it…and you don't have to…I know. (She lifts the tape up.) When you do this…I know…

Michael (frustrated with what he must admit): I didn't do that…Max did.

Maria: I know. (She takes a hesitant step toward him after a long pause.) Just like I didn't burn your burger… Liz did.

Michael (after a long pause): I can't stop looking for Nasedo.

Maria: And I can't stop blaming him either. All this stuff is happening to Lizzie that I can't do anything about, and I need someone to blame…to be angry at…and he's it Michael. I need to blame him and I can't change it.

Michael: I need the answers he has.

Maria: I know that…I do. I don't like him, but I don't have to. (She pauses for a moment, inhaling a shaky breath and looking down at the tape she holds in her hand.) I need you to promise me something. (She ventures a glance at him but quickly looks away.) I know this is silly, and so down the road and totally not relevant to now…but…I need you to promise me that you won't leave me like my father did, okay? If you have to go, you have to go, but at least say goodbye…you know, a note is better than nothing - just something, okay…just promise me. If you can't promise me that Michael then I need to get off the ride for good…because I can't do that again. (She looks up at Michael and the tears slide down her cheek.) Anything...

Michael (watching her cautiously): I can't make promises about staying or…

Maria: I'm not asking for that, Michael. It was impossible to miss the "Enter at your own risk" sign you had plastered all over yourself. We all know that… Liz and Alex…being a part of this…a condition of being with you, of loving you is letting you go. But you need to understand that the condition for being with me, loving me, is letting me know if you have to go. I'll never ask you for anything more than that…I just…I just need to know that you can do that one thing for me…that you can say goodbye, because I can't do this if you can't do that. Can you understand that?

(Michael's breathing slows as he intensifies his cautious gaze. Ignoring instinct and all the alarms sounding in his head, he holds his ground, letting the meaning of what she's not saying sink in. Maybe she didn't think he would know, wouldn't be able to hear the unspoken admission or recognize the motivation for this conversation…and maybe, if it had been anybody else, he wouldn't have.)

Maria: Can you do that for me Michael?

(She couldn't be anymore exposed to Michael if she was naked and asking him the same question…and he knows it. Michael Guerin might know next to nothing when it comes to women, and even less when it comes to love, but he knows this woman standing in front of him, and he knows what's staring him in the face, holding him in place.)

Maria (shakily): Can you, Michael?

(It's amazing the profound impact a profession of love has on one who's never known what it means to be loved; to be staring at something that's eluded you your entire life, that you've resigned yourself to never knowing, to living without. It's so powerful it immobilizes you when every defensive mechanism you've spent the last ten years honing and perfecting tells you to run. The temptation of experiencing something you've never thought yourself worthy of allows you to make a commitment you can't possibly keep. In the face of love, you nod, when you should really say "no".)

Maria: Thank you. (Michael just looks down at her as she reaches up to touch his cheek) I've missed you…(and, with that, she pulls his face to hers for a kiss).

(Scene: Liz's rooftop, a little later that evening. Music: Neko Case and Her Boyfriends - Furnace Room Lullaby. Liz is curled up asleep on the lounge chair. Her journal lays in her lap open to the page she was writing on. She looks so peaceful. It was probably that fact that kept Max from waking her up when he stopped by after work. She just looked too peaceful to disturb. He could watch her for hours, but this time he didn't. Just a few minutes to make sure she wasn't too cold or uncomfortable, and then he left.

It's been an hour since Max came and went, but she's only been alone for five or so minutes of that time. The black cat sits on the ledge staring at her. Something about her draws him in and repels him at the same time. She fascinates and disgusts, and all he can do is watch… study her, test her, and wait for her to fail… and she will fail, it's just a matter of time.

Satisfied that she's sleeping soundly, the cat jumps down from the wall and slowly walks to the chair, all the while studying her face, searching for the slightest sign that she'll awaken. He jumps up on the end of the chair and pauses. His movements are slow and deliberate as he makes his way toward her. Resting a paw on her leg, he tests her reaction to his weight. Finding none, he proceeds to walk the side of her leg and nestle himself on her stomach, in perfect view of her journal and the latter half of this evening's entry. It's short and confusing…

"…Something's wrong, I know it. Maria thinks I'm crazy, but I know…I just know that something's wrong. Everyday it's like he keeps getting farther and farther away from me, and I don't know what to do…and I don't know why. It's like he's decided to take a step back again - and forgot to tell me. Maybe I am crazy, maybe finals is just making us all crazy. Just another couple of weeks and then maybe he'll tell me. It hurts that he doesn't trust me enough to tell me what's wrong. It's funny, he trusted me with his life when he saved me…why can't he trust me with this, whatever it is? Two weeks, I'll give him two weeks."

The cat studies the words. He's been paying so much attention to her lately, he had almost forgotten about him. Damn her. A light turns on inside the apartment, causing the cat to jerk. He jumps off Liz and the chair, and hides in the shadows of the wall. Inside the apartment Nancy walks down the hallway and carefully cracks open the door to Liz's bedroom. Opening it wider she sees that Liz isn't there and Nancy enters the room. Jeff, from the hallway, sees Nancy going into Liz's bedroom and follows after her.

Nancy stands at the window to the roof, watching her daughter sleeping. Jeff comes up behind her and puts his arm around her waist.)

Jeff (whispering): Should've made this window a sliding glass door when we put the bathroom in.

Nancy (whispering back): Should've made her a room without walls and with the stars for a ceiling.

(Scene: Max's bedroom, same night. Max sits staring down at his desk. It's close to two in the morning, which means he's been doing this for nearly two hours - sitting here, staring at his desk. It's not so much the desk that's captured his attention, but the two documents resting on top of it, side by side in front of him. This moment has been a week in the making. He's known it's been coming. He knows what he has to do, he knows what he's going to find, he just doesn't know if he's ready.

The problem with denial, is that it's putting off the inevitable. Only crazy people get to live in fantasylands of denial- where if you don't like something you change it, if you don't want to know something then you don't… where the truth is whatever you make it. Maybe it's not so bad being crazy. But for the rest of us, there comes a point, a moment, when the truth becomes too obvious to ignore. This is Max's moment. He's been avoiding the truth for a week. And now he's been sitting here for the last two hours staring at it, or at least the source of it - waiting for an act of God or a knock on his door or window to keep him from having to go through with this. But with every passing minute, denial slips farther and farther away…

Max lets out a heavy sigh, laced with defeat. He runs his hands through his hair and then shakily places them on the edge of the desk. With his left hand, he opens the cover of Atherton's book, and with his right he opens the manila folder, exposing the typed manuscript for the same book. Breathing slowly, he turns the pages of the book to find the title page. He stares down at the two title pages, mirror images of themselves. Another breath, another sigh, another turning of a page. Simultaneously he turns the blank pages following the title page, revealing the next page.

The manuscript reads: "Talent alone cannot make a writer. There must be a man behind the book." - Emerson.

The book reads: "There is a woman at the beginning of all great things." - Alphonse De Lamartine

Max's pauses to read them both, then turns the next page.

The manuscript: For, N

The book: For, Nadine

That was the easy part, it's the next page that's the problem. With the turning of this page comes either a wave of relief, an assurance of what 'is', or a tidal wave of destruction, obliterating the security of the 'unknown'. It's funny that not knowing anything about yourself would be considered an assurance, a source of comfort. But if Max finds what he thinks he'll find, on the next page of Atherton's book, then everything changes…secrets revealed, answers found, lives defined, possibilities… possibly shattered.

Max takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. He closes his eyes for a moment then calmly turns the page. He looks from one Table of Contents to the other, and then lowers his head. They're completely different. He flips through the book and manuscript from the Preface, to the chapters he hasn't read yet, searching for a shred of similarity between them…nothing… just like he knew it would be. You see denial's not so much about avoiding the truth, it's about avoiding confirmation of the truth.

One title, two very different books…and two curious yellow eyes over in the window watching.

Back to Area 51 (Section IV)