The last time La La sees Clint it is in the airport. He is standing by the door to the jetway taking tickets. He is wearing his poncho and a pilot’s hat. La La puts her ticket in his mouth, a communion, he lights it like a cigarette with his trigger finger. Do you know who I am? she asks. He ashes into a tiny coffin he is holding in the palm of his hand. She says, in a funny way it worked out because Ren was going to be my feiji piao, my airplane ticket, and here I am. Clint drags her soul out of the little coffin. It’s bigger than her it’s shadow-pitched and she is surprised it fit in there. He tears her soul in half and then down over his face like a robber’s hat. He gives the rest of it back to her. Guess I’ll head, she says. At the end of the jetway a dead man introduces himself as Dante, kind of out of breath, sweating. Kind of like he was running, freaked, for eight years to greet her.