Page 43 of Something Like Hail

Noah looked up, so lost inthought that he didn’t realize how far they had traveled. They wereat an airport. Not Bergstrom International, which he had visitedonce out of sheer boredom, but one much smaller.Austin Executive Airport,a sign declared. Noah noticed the hanger, a two-story building nextto it, and a large free-standing roof that was designed to provideprotection against the elements. Not just for people, but vehiclesas well, including planes. A private jet was currently parkedbeneath the roof, the car making a beeline for it.

“We’re flying somewhere?”he asked in disbelief.

“It would seem we are,”Marcello responded.

Noah grinned, his worries forgotten.“Really? I’ve never been on a plane!”

“Never?”

“Nope!” He pressed himselfagainst the window, leaping out of the car the second it stopped.Then he walked around the jet while laughing. This was too cool! Hefinished making a loop and found Marcello waiting next to the openstairs. He seemed taken aback.

“You have noconcerns?”

“About flying? No way. Ican’t wait!”

Marcello smiled gently. “Then let us departimmediately.”

Noah shook his head. “This isn’t like TV atall! Where are the other passengers? Don’t we need tickets? Whatabout the TSA? We’re not allowed to wear shoes when we go throughsecurity, right?”

Marcello waved a hand to silence hisconcerns. “You’ll find this is nothing like television. It’s ashame you haven’t flown economy before. I’m afraid you won’t fullyappreciate what you’re about to experience. Still, I do enjoy aB.J., and I’m sure you will too.”

Noah laughed. “Is that what this is about?The mile-high club?”

“The abbreviation standsfor Business Jet,” Marcello explained. “I’m not sure what you’rereferring to, but that smile of yours has become ratherunsavory.”

Noah didn’t buy the innocent act for asecond. He went to the stairs and looked up them. Marcello put ahand on his back encouragingly. After seeking permission, Noah tookthe stairs two at a time, only stopping when he was close enough totouch the plane’s rounded exterior. Then he walked inside. Hecounted seven seats, large and cushioned in ivory-colored leather.Toward the back was a door, the small room beyond sporting akitchenette and another seat, possibly for a flight attendant. Noahtook in every detail, murmuring words of amazement to himself.

When he looked toward the front of theplane, he saw Marcello standing there, his dark eyes shining. “Howunfortunate that you’re so secretive about your past,” he said.“I’d like to know more about where you come from.”

“I can tell you,” Noahsaid. As a peace offering. He understood that Marcello wantedanswers that Noah wasn’t willing to give, but he could at least beopen about the rest of his life. First they met the captain, thenthey were seated and the aircraft began taxiing to the runway.Every ding and blinking light attracted his full attention, andwhen the plane accelerated and took off, he felt the same mixtureof fear and amazement that he associated with roller coasters. Theview was spectacular. Austin fell away beneath them, the buildingsand cars soon resembling the model village on Harold’s dining roomtable. As they rose higher, the tiny city was hidden beneath a softocean of clouds.

Eventually he turned toward Marcello, a grinplastered on his face. “We’re flying!”

“Indeed! I had nearlyforgotten what a wonder this is. I’ve taken it for granted inrecent years.”

“Do you fly like this everyday? Is this your plane?”

“No and no,” Marcello said.“You see this button here? One push and it will allow your chair toswivel. I know the view isn’t as impressive, but I believe youpromised me an enlightening conversation.” He demonstrated, turninghis chair toward the narrow aisle.

Noah did the same so they were facing eachother and resisted the urge to see if he could spin in a circle.“What do you want to know?”

“I could be wrong, but it’sunusual for someone your age to have never flown before. Whereexactly are you from?”

“I’m surprised you haven’tfound out on your own,” Noah teased.

“Fort Stockton,” Marcelloanswered instantly, “but that is an unrevealing fact. I want astory, not statistics.”

“Oh.” Noah consideredgiving him the romanticized version, like Harold had coached him todo, but he didn’t think that’s what Marcello wanted. Instead hebegan by talking about his parents, the versions of them that heknew as a kid. Supportive and loving, firm but fair. Then he spokeof his shift in awareness.

“You’re familiar withGenesis, right? The Bible chapter, not the band. My life was a lotlike that. My parents provided for me in the same way that God didfor Adam and Eve. They loved and protected me. I never thought thatwould change, but all it took was something small.”

“Like an apple?” Marcellosuggested.

“Exactly, and I wasdefinitely tempted by a snake.” He meant this to be a joke, but hesaid it in tones too somber. “The apple symbolizes knowledge. Adamand Eve became self-aware, and somehow that’s supposed to be a sin.For a while, I actually agreed. Figuring out I was gay felt like acurse, and I wished I could go back to the way I was before.Ignorance is bliss.”

“I’ve always found theopposite to be true.”

Noah thought about it and nodded. “I agreewith you. I didn’t back then, but I do now. I’m better off thisway. I just wish it hadn’t come at a cost. I always thought it wasmessed up that God cast Adam and Eve out of the Garden. What sortof parent does that?”