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Show HUNT IMAGINES HIMSELF Hunt imagines himself as a person named Hall. He imagines Leah as Jewel. He imagines a history. They are, in fact, in a Benton Harbor, Michigan motel room. And, it is_, in fact, the middle of the night: June, cool; Hunt awake; Leah sleeping, hand on Hunt's knee, as if it were the knob of a door she were about to open. New Hampshire is past. Sore and possible division are past. Todd and Sean are in Connecticut with friends, who will set them on a plane in a week. Allowing Hunt and Leah to have what Hunt has called, "a crossing." "Crossing," Leah smiles, and because she is very sweet on Hunt in their reconnectton, doesn't correct him. But, in fact, they are half way to Tucson, which will be the new family home. And they are both trying to be very tender and easy and discovering of one another. And their Volvo is in The Flying Dutchman Garage with a thrown rod. Light seems almost squeezed, it is so dim, through their motel window. And Hunt is touching Leah's shoulder in the middle of the night, and he is imagining: Himself/Hall. Leah/Jewel. And a history. Hall's history is that he had a grandfather lost at sea, no traces, and that his mother was lost in an historic Everglades' fire. Hall's history is in Florida. Hall does not know his father. Hunt imagines that. And Hall snaps, often, sweating, from dreams of smothering, drowning, sinking away. |
