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1. Broken Windows
He was eight years old when the stone shattered the window of the Temple, young enough that it was okay to cry. His brother was five years older, and mostly they fought like demons, but now they clutched hands and hung back as the police were called, as the men shouted and waved their arms, as the women, tight-lipped but no less angry, set resignedly about sweeping up the glass and setting things to rights.
Twenty years later he contemplates his shattered windshield and wing mirrors, the obscenities scrawled on his door, and he wonders: when will it ever end?
2. Empty Hallways
The office has become a ghost town: silent where once you couldn't hear yourself think, scars on the carpet where desks and cabinets had stood for years, pale patches on the walls where once Casey and Dan had smiled down like benevolent gods.
Okay, maybe 'gods' is overstating it, but there's no doubt about it, the day they left was the day the luck ran out and the show started to slide.
And now it's over. Nothing remains but torn-out cables and dust, and Jeremy's footsteps echoing down the hall as he hefts his carton and turns out the lights.
3. Pale Dead Moon
It should be romantic, the full moon glinting over the Pacific, but Dan can't see it. It seems cold to him, remote, uncaring. And so it is, after all, he reminds himself: it's only the moon, just a lump of rock hanging in the sky. Humans are the ones who try to turn it into something more.
Humans are good at that: making something out of nothing, homing in on some trivial detail (a throwaway word, a careless smile), and pretending it's momentous, life-changing.
Pretending that somebody cares.
Dan was the best of all at fooling himself.
More fool he.
4. Sky Streaked with Grey
They sing of autumn in New York, but maybe they've never lived it, the stifling, muggy days turning sharply to grey skies and sudden biting cold. Casey watches it from his balcony, hands poised over laptop, willing the words to magically come.
Writing used to be easy: second nature, natural as breathing. But that was before, when a daily deadline hung over his head like a guillotine – deliver or die! Die on camera, anyway, and, really, what could be worse?
He'd wanted independence: time to himself, to go his own way.
He has it now. Much good it does him.
5. Human Kindness is Overflowing
In Isaac's hospital room there are the following:
Get-well cards – 27
Mixed flower arrangements – 7
Rose/carnation bouquets – 4
Well-meaning but ill-considered calla lilies – 3
Potted plants (assorted) – 6
Teddy bears – 3
Stuffed toy rabbit holding 'get well' banner – 1
Ribbons and streamers – uncountable
'Get well soon!' helium balloons – four bunches.
These are the first things Isaac sees when he wakes, and the last he sees when he falls asleep and, if nothing else, they spur him on toward a full recovery.
Damned if the last thing he sees in this world is going to be a fluffy pink teddy bear.
6. I Think It's Going to Rain Today
Dana hadn't needed to look far when Sports Night folded; she'd discovered, to her own surprise, that she was not only much in demand but the subject of a small bidding war. She could, and did, name her price, and now she's playing the major league, no more scrabbling down behind the couch for small change. More: the network suits here actually listen when she talks, don't wave away her requests and suggestions like so many mood swings.
Sometimes she has to pinch herself. Life can't be this good – can it?
And even if it can be – can it last?
7. Scarecrows Dressed in the Latest Styles
Dan's agent doesn't like him going out alone. It gives a bad impression, she says, without specifying what, or how, or why, and so she rents dates for him – and that's not humiliating at all – models, actresses, pretty young women whose stars have not yet begun to rise and who mistakenly think that fame can be found on the arm of a washed-up former B-lister.
Sometimes he tells them the joke about the starlet so dumb she slept with the screenwriter. They all laugh. One or two of them might actually get it.
He doesn't sleep with any of them.
8. Frozen Smiles Chase Love Away
Since the divorce, Casey's kept his contact with Lisa to the bare minimum. There's too much history between them, too many raw wounds, for them to remain friends – not that they were ever really friends; there was passion, then anger, then indifference, and that's all. Sometimes when he's picking up Charlie or dropping him off he can't avoid contact; there are school meetings, and the occasional parenting issue where he has to put his public face on, smile and be charming. But at the back of his mind there's always the unvoiced wish that Lisa would just simply go away.
9. Lonely, Lonely
Because they meet so seldom her weight loss seems sudden and shocking to him, and the next time it's more pronounced yet. Charlie's nightmares and tears confirm what Casey had already begun to suspect.
He walks Charlie to the door the next day, tells Lisa he wants to help. She was his wife for ten years, for god's sake, he owes her that much.
She only looks at him with dull eyes. "It's okay, Casey," she says. "I don't need you."
Nothing he says will change her mind, and finally he goes away.
That's the last time he sees her.
10. Tin Can at My Feet … Think I'll Kick it Down the Street
Now it's all about Charlie. Casey's a full-time dad these days, and nothing else matters but his boy.
But Charlie's not a little kid any more: he's a teenager, turned surly, sullen, secretive overnight, rejecting point-blank Casey's well-intentioned overtures. He has wants and needs of his own, almost all of them strange and alien to Casey. Have kids really changed so much since he was young? Was it really that long ago?
Maybe it was.
All Casey can do is hang on, remember that somewhere behind the mumbles and the scowls Charlie still exists, and that this, too, shall pass.
11. That's the Way to Treat a Friend
Dan flew back east for the funeral. He'd never liked Lisa; he'd hated the way he saw her treat Casey, not realising that she only treated Casey that way around him. But this wasn't about him, not even really about Lisa. It was about Casey, about Charlie, and about whatever they needed from him.
Dan's had a measure of success in his life. On his better days, he can even believe that some of it was deserved. But there's one thing that he knows he can do. He can be a friend.
"And this is what friends gear up for."
12. Bright Before Me the Signs Implore Me
Isaac spends much of his convalescence in the hospital chapel: less to do with his spiritual needs, more with the peace and quiet and the fact that the chaplain, Dave's, a smart guy, a sports nut, has a wicked sense of humour and plays a killer game of chess. Isaac misses being around guys like these. He loves Esther, he loves his daughters, but lord, how they fuss!
Dave's notebook's lying open. Isaiah 53:6, he's written, and Return, Oh Wanderer, Return.
The message couldn't be any clearer. Isaac wheels himself away, finds a quiet corner, and pulls out his cellphone.
13. Help the Needy and Show Them the Way
Dana meets Natalie downtown for coffee. They scuffle over who pays – Natalie, fronting her own talk show, now earns a ludicrous and embarrassing salary – but settle it with a toss of a coin.
Natalie misses sports. Dana misses Natalie. They're both worried about Isaac – Natalie had sent him a teddy bear in hospital, "Because I knew it'd make him so mad he'd have to pull through." They both want Dan to stay in New York.
"Nothing's been right since Danny went away," Natalie states, and Dana thinks, Oh, is that what went wrong?
"I'll fix it," Natalie promises. And smiles.
14. Human Kindness is Overflowing (2)
"You're an idiot," Natalie says.
Dan blinks. "Wow. They should give you your own news show – oh, wait …"
"You had everything you could ask for, Danny, and you just walked away. And then it all fell apart."
His mouth's a tight line. "It was falling apart before then. Casey and I – we were barely talking any more. I couldn't write. He had to carry the show and … I just thought you'd be better off without me."
She touches his hand; her voice is soft. "I know," she tells him. "But you were wrong."
He sighs; nods.
"So make it right."
15. I Think it's Going to Rain Today (2)
The sky is grey, and the wind cuts through his expensive overcoat. He pulls his scarf tighter and huddles into himself. He's been waiting for an hour now, and anticipation has become anxiety, become disappointment, become despair.
Natalie was wrong. She always did love to meddle. Clearly, that'll never change. Thinking about it, she always got things wrong more often than right, too. Secretly in love … he remembers, and shakes his head, amused, despairing.
This was a mistake. He doesn't belong here any more. He has a new career, a new home, a new life, a continent away. He's happy there. What he and Casey had had, what they'd all had was special, sure, but it was unique, of its moment. That moment was Sports Night, and its time has passed. They can't get it back. It would be wrong to try, even for Isaac's sake.
He checks his watch. Casey's late. He won't show now.
Dan gets to his feet just as the first drops of rain begin to fall. And, as he turns toward the park gate, he sees a figure in the distance: tall, awkward, familiar. Beloved. He begins to smile.
Let the rain come. He's ready.