On Christmas Eve, Christopher's flight out of Tucson International Airport was delayed for three hours, so he called his sister to let her know his new ETA. Putting his phone away, Chris looked around and spotted a poster advertising the upcoming 51st Annual Tucson Gem and Mineral Show; tears flooded his eyes, blurring his vision. Last year, Derrick had taken him to the show, and Chris had been fascinated, previously having no idea of the wealth and variety of jewels that existed in the world. Derrick was especially drawn to an exhibition of black pearls.

Considering their genesis, Chris was on one level extremely disgusted by pearls, and could not understand why they were so valuable. An irritating grain of sand, surrounded by an oyster's secretions to create a perfectly round object was interesting, but where was the true worth of the item? It was gross. That is what he thought until he met Derrick.

Derrick absolutely treasured pearls. His favorite poem was "Pearl" by some unknown 14th century author. He had even done his thesis on it, comparing whether or not the pearl was a material or spiritual symbol. Chris didn't even begin to understand it, and he thought the poem itself was pretty monotonous.

"The most beautiful thing about the pearl, is that it never changes its shape or origin. It is one of the most unique gems in the world. It is man who decides whether the small stone enameled with the oyster's fluids turned into something stunning belongs in the material world, or is a symbol of something ethereal and divine that belongs in the realm of the spirit." Derrick explained to Chris.

Whatever, Chris thought.

"It's wonderful!" Chris exclaimed when Derrick presented him with a white gold bracelet studded with various hued pearls for their fifth year anniversary, six months ago.

"I love you." Derrick simply stated in response. Five months later he was gone, victim of a virus that was merciless, unforgiving and unceasingly ever-changing in its mindless drive to preserve itself at the expense of the host creature it occupied.

Derrick believed that love was a pearl. This was another concept that he tried to explain to Chris to no avail. Chris barely got through two years of community college, and hardly considered himself an intellectual. Derrick never made him feel inferior in that aspect even though he had been an English Literature major.

Chris examined the pearls on his bracelet; all of them were perfect, as they should be. How is it that the most important one of all, his pearl of love, could be broken and would it ever be mended? Chris wished he knew.