Paper Planes Back Home

DEPARTURE . TWO

Five seconds is all it takes for Gianna to marvel at the sight of her finished plane—the base is sturdy and about an inch thick, spacious enough for her to sit on and not worry about balance (or so she assumes), and the wings are solid at about a meter wide each. Wanting to announce her accomplishment, she turns to the neighboring cloud with a wide smile on her face that quickly melts into a look of horror.

Skylar is ripping his unfinished plane to pieces.

"Skylar! What's wrong? Why are you—? Skylar stop!"

He doesn't reply. He doesn't even look at her. If it is possible to see angry bursts of flame emanating from his very being, Gianna would. She could see his body trembling in rage, but she doesn't understand. What is happening?

"Skylar...please..." Her voice starts to tremble as well. She isn't used to being in the presence of such volatile anger, even when she has experienced it herself but once before. "Talk to me."

But he doesn't stop to talk, and Gianna can only helplessly watch the violent dismantling of the ride Skylar has been trying to build long before she arrived. Soon, the plane is in tatters, but Skylar doesn't end there. He goes on and kicks the scraps off of his cloud. Her heart aches when she sees the torn pieces of paper fall slowly into the abyss below.

"Skylar."

He faces her then, and she thinks she's looking at a whole different person altogether. The Skylar she met when she arrived had a warm gaze, a calming voice, and an encouraging smile that helped Gianna cope with whatever personal turmoil she has been carrying all this time.

Where did that man go?

"I see you've finished your ride."

"Skylar, what happened?"

"You should go."

"Why did you—"

"JUST GO!" he yells, his voice breaking at the sheer force he exerted on those two words. And just like that, he collapses on his knees and cries. "Please," he says. "Just go."

She drops to her knees as well, and crawls toward the edge of her cloud. Tearfully, she asks, "Don't you want to go home?"

Skylar shakes his head. "Not anymore."

Her mind races. It must be Jeannie, the girl he's been waiting for all this time. Something terrible must have happened to her, for such a positive young man like Skylar to seem like all hope just got stolen from him. "But..."

"There is nothing to return to," he adds. He wipes his tears and gets up to walk away. For a moment, Gianna worries he might jump over the edge of his cloud, but she breathes a sigh of relief when Skylar's short but listless walk comes to a halt underneath the tree. As if he needed it for support, he grasps the rope of the tire swing tightly and remains standing there, his back to her.

"There's always something," she says slowly, choosing her words. She doesn't want Skylar to think she's assuming things about his life, but she feels like she has to do something—anything—to get the old, cheerful Soldier Boy back. "You'll see. We could..." She glances at her ride, and then at the small pile of paper planes just beside it.

"...we could maybe go back together."

He doesn't say anything, but she sees him heave a breath.

"Skylar. Please. Would you look at me, at least?"

She gets nothing.

* * *

Anna shoots glances at Aaron, who is sitting at one of the café tables, while she's at the counter asking for some ice. He's jittery, shaking his legs from the mounds of his feet, and he doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. They're palms down on the table, and then they rub his lap, until finally he props both elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands. She sees the bruise on the knuckles of his right hand when she returns with a glass of ice.