Callie had been driving around for the past hour and had not seen Joe. When she received the phone call from Chet, there was only thought on her mind.

Suicide.

Does it ever end? The cycle…how I wish someone had a scissors to cut the circle.

Somehow, at the back of her mind, she was not that surprised. Shocked, yes, but accepting of such a consequence. They had not seen it before or had closed their eyes to the slow manifestation of the evil. It had consumed Joe and none of them wanted to acknowledge it. It was not supposed to be happening. People were supposed to get better- not worse- with time.

Only with the phone call were they forced to finally open their eyes, and pray fervently that it was not too late, at least for those who believed in God. Callie had been lapsing for many, many years but she managed to mutter a small prayer.

Don’t let Joe do it God. Please. Show him the light he’s shutting his eyes against...please…let it burst forth and bring him back to us…

Or Frank will surely die as well…please…

They had discussed it and decided to meet at the Hardy’s residence. When Callie arrived, she saw the lights on and a few cars outside. Recognizing two of them- an old Toyota and an almost antique Chevrolet which was deceivingly very powerful and fast- as Chet’s and Tony’s respectively. The other two cars and one motorbike were foreign to her.

Must be Joe’s friends….

To the unaware, they must be thinking that we were having a party, not frantically trying to look for a soul.

She got out of her own Camry and ran into the house, thinking that Frank was inside, bracing herself for the terrible news or confirmation, thinking of words of consolation to say- words of consolation that would never be enough.

As she ran, she too was hoping with all her heart that someone had found Joe before he did the deed. Hoped so desperately. Though she and Joe did not see eye to eye all the time, she did treat him like a bratty little brother and felt the same way as well.

Throwing open the door, she saw a myriad of faces, all pale; all anxious; all frightened and frantic. Joe and Frank were nowhere to be found and she felt her tears welling up. She knew she should not break down and add to the feeling of inadequacy already thickening the air but she did. Her fear and anxiety was overwhelming.

Not again…let the brothers come down the stairs and tell us it’s all a bad joke…I’ll forgive them…

Tony rushed to her side and gave her a hug and she cried into her good friend’s shoulder.

"We can’t find him either." Chet offered up the piece of unfortunate information. Callie extricated herself from Tony and saw that Maggie was huddled close to the drummer, Craig Anderson, her big brown eyes wide with trepidation for her brother’s fate. Wayne Garland and Shane Melvick heads were hung low. Shane was shaking a little.

And Mina. She stood near the huge laminated picture of a pair of praying hands underneath a plain cross. She was the only composed lady there. The only one.

Praying hands. Prayers…are they too little too late?

Phil punched the wall. Her geek friend rarely showed such intense emotions though Callie knew from the years that Phil did care a lot for his friends, though he could get too engrossed in his online world, filled with zip disks, memory bytes and cd-roms. His agitation added to the tension created by fear and the evil of suicide.

"We can’t find him ANYWHERE! Mr Pizza, Storm, Arachno, his hostel room…even Lover’s Peak!" Phil growled in frustration. "If only we could hack into his brains like a computer! It would be so much easier."

"He’s depressed but we did not really try to understand, to help. We became so uncomfortable around him…no wonder he drifted over to his morbid circle…" Chet spoke angry, hurtful words that were borne out of anxiety, carrying some weight of truth but perverted by the grief and remorse.

Wayne Garland’s head immediately shot up. "Look here. Depression is not anybody’s fault. We cannot help ourselves."

"DAMN RIGHT YOU CAN’T! ALL THE DEPRESSING SONGS YOU SANG! AND ALCOHOL! JOE NEVER DRANK A SINGLE DROP OF TEQUILA UNTIL HE MET YOU GUYS! NOW! ITS WATER TO HIM!" Chet hollered in retaliation. Tony placed a hand on Chet’s shoulder to calm him. Even Phil seemed shocked by his friend’s outburst. Callie grew uneasy at the war of the two gangs.

"HEY! LOOK HERE! WE ARE ALL SEARCHING FOR OUR WAY! IF YOU MUST KNOW, HE DOESN’T REALLY TALK TO US…" Now Wayne was peeved. He rolled up his sleeves, his brown eyes angry and smoldering. Craig let go of Maggie and pulled his friend back.

"He did. He talked in his sleep. I heard…but…I didn’t really notice…" Shane whispered, still facing the floor and all eyes were suddenly trained on him. "He kept saying things like ‘blood’, ‘let me go with you..’ I don’t know…some…some are so terrible to listen to…"

Mina stepped over and knelt down in front of Shane like an angel waiting to speak. Gently, she smoothed his sweat-damped black hair back and spoke as how she would speak to a child. Callie marveled at her calmness; her sereneness. It looked like she was the one who was going to take charge when all of them, all taller than her, even Maggie at 5 feet 4, could not handle the dreadful drama that had unfolded.

"Shh…it’s ok…sometimes, we don’t know until it happened…don’t worry. Have faith…"

"God…he’s really my best friend…I tell him things when we’re alone in the room…he listens…he really does…he may seem hostile but he does listen…" Shane moaned, his voice cracked. Drops of tears fell down to the floor. "And he never judged…just listened and then treated me like a normal guy, trading sarcasms with me…We sacked him from the band…"

"No calls from Frank yet…the die is not cast…don’t worry…alright? Trust me." Mina voice was slightly shaky then, her own eyes became gradually wet and shining.

Maybe she’s not convinced herself.

Mina stood up and addressed all of them, her pretty, serious face resolute. In that moment, an unlikely leader had emerged to unite the two vastly different groups. "We must keep searching. We can’t give up hope until the final hour. Don’t think of the worst…think of finding him. We’ll search again. This time, we must find him or until we hear from Frank. So let’s split up and comb Bayport. Now." Her voice was steady, like her deep breathing.

"You don’t have a car…who will you follow?" Maggie asked her friend- who had cast her eyes onto the merciful cross on the wall- softly.

"I don’t know my way…I don’t have sharp eyes. I’ll stay here and wait for them to come back. I’ll stay here and pray. Someone has to pray." Came the beatific, trusting reply with a deep faith that Callie could only admire and not feel. Maggie took her friend’s hand and squeezed it.

"I’ll join you. We’ll pray for my brothers."

Two pairs of praying hands. And many many praying hearts.

***

"The waves are concentric and heading only one direction."

Waves…of course… Big Cliff…the beach…but the stretch is so long…and it’s so dark…

And what if he’s just being poetic? I’ve been speeding for more than half an hour to the damn cliff. If I’m wrong…half an hour is enough for him to take his life…more than enough.

Joe…please…God…I’ll listen this time. I’ll really listen. I will understand!

If I don’t…MAKE ME UNDERSTAND!

He threw open his car door and headed up the cliff. In the darkness, he could make up a faint image of a black vehicle. Everything seemed black. The waters, the sky, his world. His world would be permanently black if he could not find his brother alive and well.

Frank knew if Joe’s gone, he would never be able to admire the Ocean. He would never be able to even look at the Ocean. Never. Never step in a ship, never go fishing, never even swim.

And the sparkles from the waters would only hurt his eyes and stab his soul without mercy.

Because if you’re gone, no earthly ships can ever bring you back to me.*

You’ll heal. We’ll go pursue anything good you want…more cases, no cases…anything. I won’t accelerate…I’ll stay here until you graduate…I will watch you through this…I promise.

That’s your van! Please…don’t jump yet…think of us…we can’t pretend you don’t exist…you’re so much part of us…please Joe…please…

God…knock some sense into his thick skull. It helped him not get influenced by the evils we were so exposed to…now, it’s keeping the evil inside. Use a spiritual hammer … anything …God … please. Again, at this eleventh hour…again I beg with you…

Don’t let this evil take away my brother. Please…please…

Dashing up the cliff top, he sucked in a deep breath. It was so empty. In the darkness, it was so empty. Frank was so alone.

"JOE!!!!" He bellowed and peered over the top, shaking with fear. But the visual was not good. There was not enough light. There was not any light.

I can’t give up. The waters will not be my brother’s grave. There’s still the beach. Maybe…Joe did not want to jump. Maybe he decided to walk into the waters…

Yes…maybe…

Is hope ever so slim? So tattered?

He quickly entered his car and drove down to the beach. When he could no longer use his car, he hurriedly got out and ran like a madman; faster than the wind. The stretch of beach was long but he would try. He would find Joe, if that was the last thing he did. He would succeed.

Mom and Dad love you so much…they have gone to New Orleans to seek help for you…Joe…we all love you so much…why? Why?

Racing down the coastline, stopping at intervals to shout his beloved brother’s name that echoed emptily right back at him, he felt fear and anxiousness overwhelming him, sending a rush of the sort of adrenaline he never wanted to feel again, coursing through his veins. He never felt more useless, more frightened.

Where are you…where?

The freezing wind blew, numbing his fingers, turning his hands whiter than white until they shone in the dark. The sinking feeling in his guts slipped down several notches. The crashing waves and howling wind deafened him, drowning his shouts and drying his tears that kept falling- blinding his eyes. The gravelly sand trapped his feet so many times that he thought he would fall.

He did fall. He stumbled over a piece of protruding rock and fell face down onto the sand. Cursing, he scrambled up immediately, coughing out gravel, seriously considering immersing himself into the black waters to look for Joe.

But I won’t be able to see…will I? Can’t see in this black black world.

Grace unveiled his eyes and prompted him to look to his left. He caught a glimpse of a swaying, human-like shadow atop the breakwater not too far from him. A shadow darker than the night, but bringing joy to the his heart, releasing the vise grip that was held on to it by fear.

Wild, desperate hope surged through him and he made a mad dash for the granite block.

"Joe! Please…Joe! Is that you?"

The figure stood up and turned around to face him, a thin stick defenseless against the wind. Frank recognized the sheen from the defiant blond hair. As lifeless as its owner had became, it refused to stop boasting; refused to stop being beautiful.

"Joe…" He climbed up the breakwater and reached his brother. Without waiting for Joe to reply him, he held Joe in a tight embrace. Loss had been so very close- whatever prompted Joe to halt his craziness was a good thing. A very good thing.

He thanked God profusely in his mind, thanking Him for His infinite love. Knowing inside that God only wanted Love, not sacrifice.

Feeling the unfamiliar jutting bones and ribcage, Frank could finally understand much of the torment Joe was going through. So much that it wore him down, devoured him not only spiritually and mentally but physically as well. He felt the beating heart and was so relieved. The ragged breaths he heard brought him much comfort. Gently, he smoothed the soft blond hair, feeling his brother’s shivering frame.

His brother’s alive body.

Even if the mind, heart and soul are terribly wounded, they can heal. They can.

With Grace, Hope…and Love. Love most of all.

I’ll help him heal.

"Let go, Frank…please…I promise…I won’t do anything stupid…" Even at that moment of deep anguish, Joe was refusing affections. But Frank understood. He let go, took off his jacket and swung it over Joe’s freezing shoulders.

"We’ll sit down alright? And we’ll talk…about anything you want, for as long as you want. I won’t push you…I won’t pressure…I’ll just listen." Frank spoke soothingly; calmingly. Besides the quivering from the cold, Joe was still. Frank very cautiously guided his volatile brother to sit down on the breakwater, careful not to agitate the fragile spirit.

Joe brought his knees to his chest and huddled himself tightly. Frank put an arm around Joe which was not shaken away. They sat in silence for a long time, until Frank could let go of his fear and finally found some words. The shock of almost losing Joe, saved only by the efforts of Grace which would be futile if Joe had not recognized it in his madness, was paralyzing Frank, though he managed to keep the numbness away and let love work its way into his words.

The farewell letter burned in his pocket.

"I almost lost you. To think I…Joe…if you go this way…I can’t survive either. Can’t because…Joe…please…please promise me that you’ll never let this evil take control of you. Always think of hope, think of the happiness that will come, will definitely come if you let it. Think of love most of all. God’s saving love; the love that Mom, Dad, Maggie and all your friends have for you. You are loved, so loved. You may not think you have anyone around, but so many of us will cry unending tears if you choose this route in your despondency and you’ll never know of the deep love you inspired in all of us. And me, Joe. Have you forgotten about your big brother? Superman in diapers? Of everyone I know, I love you the best. Don’t do this to me. Most importantly, don’t do this to yourself. Live Joe. Live. Life is beautiful…if we let it be beautiful."

"What do you think had suddenly popped into my screwed mind? Oh! Maybe before I said ‘goodbye oh cruel world,’ I thought I’ll just have another slice of pepperoni pizza!" Joe reiterated derisively, his sarcasm masked the love and road to recovery behind the words. But Frank heard it and smiled.

"Ouch." Frank joked, trying to ease the darkness. After his eyes had gotten used to the blackness around, he could see his brother’s face clearly.

And he saw a frightened little boy, probably appalled by what he had almost allowed to happen, though it would be in madness and extreme agony. Yet, he chose to live. And he had the courage to live.

Something which we all must have. The light will come. It will definitely come into our lives if we live.

Abruptly, Joe turned around to face Frank. He looked so lost, so heartbreakingly lost. Frank vowed silently to find his brother no matter the odds. He would put it as his priority. He would reclaim Joe again, but he would also accept the fact that Joe, though he would be the same, would also be changed.

"Remember I asked you about innocence, Frank? You said pretty words and I want to believe. But I can’t feel it…I can’t imagine…God…I wrote you…no…forget it. It’s only rubbish." Joe returned his vacant eyes back onto the waters and beyond. Frank would give anything to know what was Joe thinking of, afraid of.

"Because you’ll despise me. For all that I have become, you’ll hate me."

"I’m insulted. Your letter. You insulted me." Frank kidded. He was not insulted, he was just shocked at how much Joe had belittled himself.

Anyone who went through what he had gone through would be extremely unsure of themselves. It’s logical. But they need to know it’s not their fault. They’re not the ones who are ‘tainted’. It’s those disgusting, appalling excuses for human beings who are ‘tainted’.

"What?" Joe looked at Frank again with narrowed eyes. "Hey! I wasn’t insulting you…"

"You said I’ll despise you…" Frank’s voice became low, serious and sincere.

"Nothing…nothing will make me despise you…nothing Joe…"

Joe’s eyes glazed over with something shining, like the sparkles on the black waters only not as carefree. His breathing became even more ragged and his body shook. He turned his gaze away, the darkness dimmed the wrenching sorrow- the battles that must be waging in the broken young man. The darkness hid the wet eyes from the world, but not from his brother who was closer to him than anybody could be.

"I still can’t tell you much…but you’re so smart…why don’t you guess?" A cold hand reached out for Frank’s and it gripped Frank’s arm tightly, holding on like the arm was its sanity; its salvation.

I don’t have to. I know. But I’ll rather you tell me.

"The water, Frank. It was so hot. It scalded my skin and burned all the way into my soul, tearing away layer after layer of sanity to expose the bones. I won’t let it happen…and….It was so…so hot…God…I can’t…"

Frank could feel Joe’s torment, feel his anguish and frustrations.

And he mourned that loss of innocence in that place where hardened criminals lingered without much hope of ever regaining that bit of humanity.

But he’ll get it back. No one can take that away from my brother.

His heart bled for Joe. And he hoped his love would bleed into Joe somehow.

Joe was hyperventilating then. His ragged breathing accompanied by the swaying- like a young, slim tree defenseless against the howling of the wind.

"Don’t think any of less of me. You really can’t. I depend so much on you." Joe spoke hoarsely, repeating the wrenching words from his letter. Tears fell in his soul but not from his eyes. His eyes still retained the shine that he would not let escape.

Tears from the broken spirit inside.

How can I ever think less of you? I depend on you, too. So much and you don’t have any clue.

Frank patted Joe’s hand that still held him in a vise grip. "I can never think less of you, kid. You’re crazy to even think so."

The hand relented a little and trembled.

The owner shuddered- a wreckage of the nightmare that had finally found a nemesis.

The nemesis to free the caged soul within.

***

They sat in silence for a very long time, just letting the waves carry their troubles away. Flashbacks of his near death scared Joe. If Frank’s face hadn’t popped up, if that reproachful, almost annoying voice that he had been listening to for almost twenty years had not crept its way into his plagued mind, bringing some consciousness to him, he was pretty sure he would not have the chance to feel love and to still be breathing, admiring the beautiful sight as he was doing now.

"There’s always hope. And you know no matter how far I am, I’m at worse, only a phone call away"

Thank you big brother. There’s always hope. I know…I just need to feel it for myself…

The ocean was not lulling me, Frank. It was warning me…warning me that I’ll surely drown…and all of you will drown with me. Crashing at the feet of Big Cliff, screaming at me to run away from it, lest I really fall.

And something else too. I think I saw Grace. I think I saw Love. But I don’t know how to reach for them. This weight…so much weight. And knots…but if I go…then I’ll never have reached for them. And I want them…it’s not like I don’t want it. Has anyone refused love if they can help it?

I’ll try to touch them…I’ll really try.

I saw all of your faces. Maybe God caught me then, telling me it’s not the end and somewhere in my screwed brains, I listened. I love you guys. That is enough to keep me going.

I’m so messed up. And I don’t like it…I just can’t help myself…it all just comes back. I can’t pretend nothing ever happened…they did. All those horrible secrets of mine did.

But I promise you I’ll try my best.

"Will you help find me?" Joe muttered, his voice though was not lost to the sonorous percussion orchestra, playing the symphony of the ocean. He shook his head once to clear his mind of the demons that came creeping back to torment him and felt a tear fall down on his cheeks. He did not like to burden Frank with so much responsibility yet, there was no one he would rather get close to- if he still could get close to anyone- than his big brother.

"I feel so lost…"

Frank nodded and patted his back. The dam broke and the tears just kept streaming down Joe’s face. But he did not sob. He did not do anything- just let the tears flow in two continuous streams in silence. They had been waiting to flow for a very long time.

"I’ll call the gang…tell them you’re alright. I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure if I could find you all by myself." Frank spoke in measured tones, probably afraid that Joe would get all paranoid again.

But Joe understood then. He knew Frank was not Superman. Just Superman in diapers. That he could have moments of vulnerability too. That was what he meant to tell Frank.

"I understand. You can’t keep this from people for too long. If they’re my friends, they’ll know one day. I know…sometimes…I forget Frank, that you need a little help and support too..." In a lower tone if it was actually possible, Joe added,

"Frank, will we be alright?"

He glanced at Frank from the corner of his watery eyes and it was almost like his own eyes were unveiled, the cobwebs washed away by the tears. Frank was tired. He really saw that Frank was exhausted from running after him all these time and felt touched to the very core of his being by the faith and love his brother had for him.

And he was just glad he did not let himself down, did not let Frank down. Did not let anybody down.

Frank noticed him looking, broke into a grin and ruffled Joe's hair.

"Don’t worry about a thing, brat. We will be. You will be. You just…just…I don’t know. Just come to me, alright? I don’t like surprises like tonight. I may not always be able to find you…and if I hadn’t found you…like I found you tonight…I…" Frank’s voice cracked but the grin, which had mellowed into sweet, genuine smile to bring forth love remained.

His brother’s eyes were shining with tears.

Which is why I will fight. I am no quitter. I won’t let the evil get to me, won’t let it laugh it glee.

Get thee behind me Satan. Evil won’t win tonight. Won’t win ever.

I’ve got Love.

"I know. I promise," came the soft reply. Soft and yet, unable to be drowned out.

On the blustery beach that night, sitting atop the breakwaters, were two brothers. Both beautiful in their own ways. Both special. Both their own person but still searching. But that is life. It is all about searching for that something good and pure inside and bringing it to the outside. It is about love and trying one’s best to be good, to live a life that will bring Love to others, not hurt.

And Suicide always brings hurt. Twisting; heartrending hurt.

The dark-haired man looked up for a moment and saw a sight that broke his heart. The clouds had passed and the heavens burst forth with millions of stars and stardust. Constellation after constellation greeted his eyes that were like twin galaxies, intelligent and scourging; amazing and astounding. Eyes filled with love and tenacity that would touch most hearts greatly.

He tapped the shoulders of the one next to him, the one with the flaxen hair who was shaking like a young fawn. Impish lines were faded replaced by a melancholy aura but still, there was hope, lots of hope. The frightened young man was achingly beautiful, with eyes like diamonds radiating blueness, sparkling like the shine on the waters created by the starlight. Sparkling with a shine that spelled sadness and yet at the same time, like his brother’s- sparkling with love and resolution to live.

He was special, he only needed to be reminded of that.

And innocent still. One day, he would know it too.

The dark-haired one then pointed up to the sky and his quivering brother looked up, following the direction that his brother had pointed at and gasped, touched by the splendor and magnificence that God seemed to have created just for the both of them to see.

That in the darkness of night, there will be the stars to remind mankind of light, beauty and love.

If there are not any stars, the night still must be endured through, for the sun will definitely shine. Like it always does. It will rise again. The miracle that will bring the birth of a new day with renewed hopes will always come, no matter how long the night.

And the endurance will only make mankind stronger and more compassionate. More loving and understanding.

In the end, all the tears will be wiped away.

***

TO BE CONTINUED IN SEEKERS II

* Adapted from the lyrics of My Lover’s Gone, written by D. Armstrong and J. Catto. Performed by Dido. –Album: Dido, No Angel. 2000, Arista Records.