Randy turned and started to go back up the snowbank again, taking off his Red Sox cap and wiping his brow, because now he was sweating. And then he stopped again. And he slapped his cap back on his head and he suddenly turned toward Chad. He wanted to charge down the mound of snow and pummel him like he had done to the dozens of other guys that had crossed him in his lifetime.

But he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Chad—because the poor guy looked so helpless. And what if he actually had something wrong with him?

But he needed to let him know that he had done something unforgivable, and he yelled, “YOU KNOW, YOU’VE DONE A REAL NUMBER ON A GOOD THING, HERE, BUDDY!! ’CAUSE WE WERE FRIENDS!! AND THERE’S A LINE WHEN YOU’RE FRIENDS THAT YOU CAN’T CROSS! AND YOU … CROSSED IT!”

Randy was about to turn and finish the climb up the snowbank and head back down the other side to his truck when he suddenly and completely fell down—almost in slow motion: his legs crumpled, and his knees hit the packed snow of the snowbank, and he listed to one side and tumbled down the snowbank until he reached its base and skidded to a stop about a dozen feet from Chad.

His flashlight came skittering down behind him and disappeared somewhere in the fluffy snow at the bottom of the snowbank.

The guys felt like everything had stopped again. And another cosmic shutdown had occurred.

And everything was silent and still again.

And Randy started feeling a strange lightness suddenly grow inside him. It made him feel like he had a road flare burning somewhere deep in his guts. And like gravity had no hold on him, even though it had just pulled him to the ground.

He felt like that lightness had gently jump-started the cosmos and made everything start moving again, and the stillness gave way to motion and the silence gave way to sound as Randy blew some snow and some snowy snot out of his nose and rolled over onto his side and sat up and looked around to see if he could locate Chad.

And he found him—about twelve feet in front of him, sitting up and looking at him, totally dumbstruck. Because he had just witnessed Randy’s crumple and tumble down the snowbank.

It seemed that what had happened to Chad had also just happened to Randy.

Chad felt the lightness start growing inside him again.

It was the same lightness that Randy had just started feeling.

And then Chad and Randy realized that all they wanted to do was get to one another.

Because they knew they needed to be with each other.

So they started to get themselves up off the snowy ground and back up onto their feet so they could make their way to one another.

They were a little dazed and a lot unsteady.

And they looked to one another.