I can't believe Hank pulled his gun on them. But they shouldn't have pushed him that way – not when he's that drunk. They don't know him like I do, how to handle him. Yeh, like I handled him so well, pulling a 'Carrie' with my powers, but I couldn't let him hurt Isabel. I am such a loser, I don't even know how to use my own powers.

OK. What now? Can’t go back to Hank, now that he knows just how big a freak I really am. Can't go back to Max and Isabel's. They are always pushing me, and I know I'll end up punching that superior look off Mr. Evans face, and that sweet sniveling nervous way Mrs. Evans has about her really gets on my nerves.

OK, so I'm totally alone. Well, that's good. If I don't have anyone, then I can't lose anybody else. It's better this way. Everyone is ultimately alone on this stinking planet anyway. They just don't realize it. They're all just kidding themselves. At least I'm smart enough to know the score.

Oh, perfect. It's starting to rain. Maybe I'll get hit by lightning and die. That's about all I deserve. Perfect ending to a perfect day. Death would hurt less than the way I feel right now, and at least death by lightning would be quick.

Nobody wants me. Nobody would want me, if they knew about me. RiverDog. I'll go see him. He knows what I am, and he likes me – I can tell. I think he likes me better than he likes Max or Isabel. And I did fix his ankle. But then there's Eddy – "You don't belong here." And the reservation is just for Indians. Hey, I'm a member of a smaller minority group than the Mesaliko tribe, and I've got the cavalry hunting for me, trying to exterminate me, too. But they won't want me. "I'm not your father, Michael," RiverDog said. He said it kindly – but I could tell he was pitying me for being such a stupid jerk.

Nobody wants me. Nobody would understand. Everybody I know just wants to talk about it, to make it better, to 'fix it.' To feel sorry for me. Well, this is my life, this is the way it is, there's no fixing it. There's nobody I can just go to, without questions, who won't make me explain everything... as if I understood anything to explain it.

Maria. Going to the Crashdown that night, as if drawn by some mysterious force, half in a trance. She looked at me. She opened the door. She didn't say a word. She just looked at me and put her arms around my neck—and I was home.

It was only later, with Liz filling her head with all those girl ideas about how couples should act, that she began crowding me, wanting me to talk, have conversations, wanting to go on dates, have a "relationship." Why couldn't just being together be enough for her? Just being with her; feeling so good, without analyzing it. Just our two bodies being together, without all the words, all the mind stuff to get in the way.

Maria will know what to do. She won't need to discuss it. She won't try to fix it. She'll put her arms around my neck again and kiss me, and for a little while, the world will go away – the pain will stop. I can lose myself in her for a little while, in the circle of her arms. The only truly comforting arms I've ever know... Why do I keep pushing her away? I don't know. My feet are taking me toward her house without even thinking about it.

But I've been such a total jerk to her. She's not even speaking to me right now. I'm a freak. I hurt her. I don't deserve her.

I'll just stand out here and look at her window. One last time before I hit the road. Maybe catch a glimpse of her before I go. Maybe she'll be naked. Damn, she saw me. She's looking at me. Oh, man. She's not wearing very much. She looks so good...

But her mouth is saying 'No. Go away.' Go away, you freak. Stop staring in my window, you pervert. I don't want you. Nobody wants you.

I'll just stand here in the rain a little longer – until I die. Why can't I just climb in her window and hold her? Why doesn't she just look at me and understand, like before?

Because I don't deserve her. I'm nothing. A freak, a homeless guy nobody wants. Not even a nasty drunk wants me around. I can't be around normal people....

She's gone from her window. Probably gone to call the cops. A night in jail wouldn't be so bad. At least it'd be dry. And they have to feed you – which is more than Hank ever did. But Valenti would ask questions. Everybody wants to 'discuss my situation.' Why can't they all just leave me alone?

"Get in here before you die of pneumonia." She's at the door. I look at her, at the welcoming yellow light of her house around her. But my feet won't move toward her. I'm frozen. It's just like when Max and Isabel walked toward the headlights of that car in the desert, and I couldn't move. I couldn't go with them...

She's out in the yard in the rain. Bare feet, teeny tank top, hair slicked back like a seal. Taking my hand, pulling me into the house.

I follow her but I feel like a robot. If she wasn't pulling me, I couldn't walk. I can't speak. I can't touch her...

She wraps me in towels and dries me like a child. I remember someone bathing me, after they found me in the desert, drying me like that – gently – with a fluffy towel. I remember - it was a big white towel. Maria's towels are some weird greenish color. I thought she was my mother, that woman in white, drying me, but I called to her with my mind and she couldn't hear me, she didn't answer. I couldn't hear her thoughts. Not my mother. Never a mother...

I want to kiss her and hold her and forget, but I can't. I'm a child. I'm so alone. She wipes me off so gently, like the mother I've never had. And I'm shivering and aching inside and then I'm crying all the tears I haven't cried in 16 years... Like a big stone wall around my heart just broke into a million pieces. Like a dam just burst and all the water – all the pain – is just pouring out.

And still she doesn't ask questions. She's taking off my shirt – but it's not sexy. Like a child. Making soothing noises, helping me into bed.

So tired.... Saying it's all right... I don't have to talk. I don't have to tell her...

As if I could say a word. But I was right. Maria understands. I don't need to tell her...

Wrapping her body around me protectively, her hand rubbing my arm, making little soothing noises, keeping me warm.

Falling asleep beside her, in the good clean girl smell of her bed. Exhausted from grief and fear, from nobody wanting me.

Safe at last, peaceful at last. She is my lover... she's my mother... She understands me without words. She knows what I am and that's okay. She isn't afraid. With her, I'm not a freak.

I'll kiss her tomorrow... She'll help me forget... But right now, I'm safe... It's been so long since I've been safe. I just need to sleep.