what's happening?
she doesn't like him.
why does the thunder always stay out on the ocean? hector puts an arm around thalia. at first it feels * strange, their physical intimacy alongside their matter- of-fact conversation, but gradually we understand it, the giving and taking of comfort where it can be found, and the realness of their friendship. their stroking and touching and holding becomes good to watch. we get a feeling for what they have given one another, in stolen hours and half hours, up here on the roof, the only place where they can be themselves.
then what?
we talk about going home. yours is that way and mine is that way.  your family is that way.
it's what you talk about.
i don't understand. i think you'll leave. you're going to leave me here.
well. we stay here. he'll survive. * hector is silent, still kissing her. he yawns as he * speaks.
and then? then you go home? * hector hurries on, noncommittal in his reply.
where's the land gone? * hector, too, is taken by the novelty of it all but is less prepared to admit it. he waves his hands around the empty horizon noncommittally.
have you been on a ship before?
me, too, but they kept us down there. she points down into the lower depths of the hold. then she gets even more excited.
tonight.  we'll be where the thunder is! they look at each other and then all around them. the freshness of the day and on an overwhelming feeling of freedom, exhilarate them. their senses and their feelings, are in new territory. they are like children in a brand-new world. the captain on the other side of the ship, beckons them. *