She walked through the tall grass, under the high sun. Far distant, a single dark shape studded the horizon like a nail head — a red brick building. By stretching out her hand and squinting, she could just cover it up with the tip of her thumb. The red brick building grew just a little bit bigger with each passing day.
"Don't you ever get thirsty?"
Jonathan tried to walk nonchalantly alongside her, but he kept stumbling on things and glancing down. The tall grass made it impossible to see what was under his feet.
"Don't you ever worry — I mean, out here, by yourself with no plans, carrying nothing — don't you sometimes think it might have been . . . rash?"
She smiled. She put her hands down and let the tips of the grass brush across her palms.
He pointed ahead at the red brick building. "I worry that you rely on that thing too much. Of course it's easy to believe in; it's solid, it's visible, it's always right there in front of you. But you measure yourself against it every day, and you forget about the important things." He stumbled again, and cursed under his breath. "The things you can't see. I worry about you, Rachel. I look at you and I see you throwing your life away."
She sighed.
"Will you do something for me? Just one thing? Read this book. Don't make up your mind yet — just read it, and then come tell me what you think. I think it might change your mind about a lot of things."
She took it from him and flipped through the pages.
"It's blank," she said.
"I know. You're supposed to write in it yourself. You have a pen?"
She laughed. "I'll keep it in mind."
He kept pace with her for a while, but eventually the silence grew uncomfortable, and the constant stumbling made him tired. He fell back. Later she dropped the book and left it behind her in the tall grass.
The red brick building was a little closer today. She squinted at her outstretched thumb. She was sure of it.
"Don't you ever get lonely?"
Mark walked with his hands in his pockets, several steps behind. He could have caught up to walk alongside, but he didn't.
"Don't you ever think about, I don't know . . . coming home? Just for a little while? Because I do. All the time. Wouldn't it be great, I think, if Rache would just come home. For just a day or two. Hell, you could start up again right after." He glared at the red brick building. "I hate that thing, you know. If I'd known I was going to have to compete, I'd have goddamn built one myself."
She wouldn't turn around. Her hands were at her sides again, palms open.
He stopped walking. "I miss you."
Her fingers tightened, pulling at the grass and tearing it.
"I'm not going to follow you anymore. I miss you. Please come back."
She kept walking; eventually he dwindled behind her and was lost in the tall grass. Later, when she wiped her eyes and looked hard at the horizon, she almost thought — Yes. She could just almost make out the steeple on the red brick building. Just almost barely.
Some days she wanted only to lie down, let the tall grass hide her view of the red brick building, and rest. Some days she wanted to scream and pull out great clumps of grass by the roots. Some days that's exactly what she did. But she always, eventually, started walking again.
One day she looked up, and she had arrived. The red brick building stood right in front of her. It was not what she had been expecting.
The place was a shell, hollow, a half-built box. Its ceiling was the open sky. The walls were haphazard and incomplete, ending in ragged holes and edges of unfinished brick. The tall grass grew through open archways and around disconnected corners, surrounding everything. It was not in ruins — nothing was old. Neat stacks of fresh, red bricks stood here and there among the construction. She put her hand on one. It was rough and warm.
Out on the horizon, tiny black specks moved amidst the green grass sea. Other people, like her, walking towards the red brick building. They were still a long way off, though. She would have it to herself for a long time yet.
With a small shrug, she picked up one of the bricks. Hefted it. Then she found an open spot on one of the walls and fitted the brick into place.
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