Ben took out his pipe and tobacco while James spoke, letting the words sink in. He was aching for the young man, and aching for all he represented; young men determined to destroy themselves, vivid memories that would not rest, and long dark nights of inner terror. He also knew that there were no words that would take his pain away.

At last he put his tobacco away and lit his pipe. Putting it to his lips, he placed his free hand on James' shoulder. "I know," he said quietly.

He blew out the smoke and stared out across the water. "There is agony that doesn't go away, lad. I'm sorry ye should encounter it so early in life. But ye can't turn to drink. Ye've got a family to think of."