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Show Flying - 75 hospital, pale and not speaking to anybody. A bandage that runs from wrist to elbow on his left arm hides eleven cuts from a double-edged Gillette, a smaller bandage on his right wrist hides six more. "Trial cuts," whispers Thompson to John Henry as they work in the motorpool. "I read a book on suicides once and when they go to cut themselves they always make some trial cuts first, little shallow ones, before they go for the veins." John Henry, feeling the thin cold hiss of a razor blade cutting through the tender flesh of his arm and the tendons of his wrist, throws down his shovel and walks away, hugging himself tight, sweating, fingers clenched against the pain. Mexico tonight for sure. Monday morning Tex is gone. John Henry wakes up badly hung over but feeling cleaner. At work formation they are told that Tex is missing and John Henry is summoned to see the old man. His mouth tastes like cheap tequila, his sweat smells like Mexican beer, the head hurts and the hands tremble, but he feels better. Feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, he faces his commanding officer. "Where did he go?" says the captain. "I don't know, sir." "He tried to kill himself once," says the captain, "and |