It's nighttime, now. The plane is still flying. Back in his own seat, far from cold-comfort-Kate, Jack is restless. He must be, because he looks at Ben AND starts a conversation with him. Ben's reading James Joyce's Ulysses, and I read Ulysses in college but I can't remember a thing about it, except I know they now celebrate Bloomsday in Dublin, every year. I also know that either Carlton or Damon (or that mystery wrapped in an enigma which is the four-toed statue of Darlton) has said that we should re-read Ulysses, but that's all I've got. Do I have to watch the show for you? Okay, yes. I do. That's my job. But it would be good for you (or me, I guess) if you did some research on your own. CLICK ME! Anyhow, Jack asks Ben, "How can you read." Without looking up from his book, Ben deadpans, "My mother taught me." HA! And no, because she's dead, but still, HA! Poor Jack starts hearing old Rodney Dangerfield shtick in his head, 'til Ben finally takes pity on him and says he can read because it beats doing what Jack's doing -- waiting for something to happen. Jack asks what is going to happen, so Ben snits, "You tell me, Jack. You're the one who got to stay after school with Ms. Hawking." Jealous, much? Jack wants to know if Ben knows that Locke killed himself. Ben says he didn't, so you realize this means he probably helped him tie the noose. Jack shows him Locke's letter and says he keeps trying to get rid of it, but if follows him -- like Locke wants him to read it. What was your first clue, Jack -- your name on the envelope? Ben encourages him to read it (which makes me wonder if Ben wrote the letter). "Is it because you're afraid.... Afraid that he blames you -- that it's your fault he killed himself." And is it just me, because if I were returning to Craphole, I'd want to read that letter and know everything I could, even though I'd take it all with a heaping helping of salt. I'd just want as much intel as I could gather.