Chapter One
As the full moon began to rise over the trees to shine on the
newly fallen snow, a man sat in his parked car, well hidden from
the house he was watching.
He had been in the exact spot for nearly two hours and had
witnessed several family members gathering in the house for
the traditional Christmas Eve dinner.
The blinking of the Christmas lights drew his attention to
the front window of the house where he knew the tree was
located, as it had been for the past twenty years.
The noise of an approaching sports car engine made him
pick up the binoculars he had sitting beside him. A slight
smile played across his face as he recognized the blue stealth.
'Always late, aren't you kid. Glad to see some things never change."
He watched as the young man climbed out of the car and
popped open the trunk. At that moment Kelly Blaisdell came
running out of the house to greet her brother. The man was
grateful that he had cracked open the car window so he
could hear their conversation.
"It's about time you got here, Peter." She hugged her brother,
who quickly tried to close the trunk lid. "Too late," Kelly laughed.
"I know you got me something."
"You still can't open it until tomorrow." Peter lifted the lid.
"You can help me carry this stuff in the house." He pulled out
several wrapped packages as his sister retrieved the rest. After
closing the trunk, he noticed Kelly was staring up at the stars.
"Making a wish? I thought you outgrew that years ago."
Kelly quickly wiped her eyes.
"Kel, what's wrong?"
"I..." She paused before looking up at the moon, tears started
flowing down her face. "I've been holding it in all day. I didn't
want mom to get upset but I was hoping maybe tonight..." She
started crying. "I miss him Peter."
Her brother dropped the packages on the car and gathered
his sister in his arms. "Kelly, he's still alive. We have to believe
that. Don't give up."
"It's been eighteen months," Kelly cried. "Doesn't Dad know
how much we need and miss him?"
"He knows." Peter said, barely above a whisper. He wasn't sure
if he was trying to convince his sister or himself by saying the
two words. He released Kelly and wiped her tears with his gloved
hand. "We better go inside or Mom will wonder what happened
to us." He picked up the packages again and started walking
towards the house.
"Peter,"
"What, shorty?"
"You don't have to pretend with me," Kelly kicked up the snow
with her boots managing to keep pace with her brother. "I'm
not a child anymore, you don't have to protect me. I know you
miss Dad. I can see it in your eyes and don't think you have
fooled mom with your bravery act either. She knows."
Peter shook his head. "How did you grow up without me
noticing?"
"Well, you're older and you definitely haven't grown up."
With those last words, Kelly rushed past her brother and into
the big house.
"Sisters." Peter muttered under his breath. Glancing one
last time over the landscape, he whispered into the night.
"Come home, Paul."
The man in the car blinked back tears of his own as he grabbed
the cellular phone and dialed a number. "No interruptions," he
began after the voice on the other end answered. "I wanted to
see everyone one last time. Take care of them for me, Kermit."
"Paul, don't do this." Kermit's voice screamed through the receiver.
"The family needs you. We all need you."
Blaisdell closed his eyes. "I'm a liability to them and you know it. As
long as I'm alive my enemies will use them to get to me." He sighed
deeply. "It's the only way."
"No, Paul. I.."
The former Captain of the 101st ended the conversation by turning
the phone off. He started the car, driving down the long dark street,
unaware that it had started snowing again.
--------------------------
Chapter Two
Driving across the icy bridge, Paul turned off the
headlights. A shadow ran across the road and Blaisdell
slammed on the brakes to keep from hitting the figure.
The car skidded out of control and came to a crashing
halt as the grill smashed into the bridge's guard rail.
Blaisdell slowly opened the car door and climbed out
of the vehicle. He examined the damage as smoke came
up from under the hood.
Footsteps caught his attention. Pulling out his gun,
Blaisdell quickly turned around and pointed the weapon
at the man in front of him.
"Easy friend." The man raised his hands in the air.
"You're the man who ran out in front of me," Paul waved
the stranger against the side of the bridge with his gun.
"What were you trying to do, get yourself killed?"
"No," The man answered as he stared straight into Paul's
eyes. "I was trying to stop you from killing yourself."
"How could you have known..." Blaisdell's voice trailed
off. He lifted his head and angrily returned the stare.
"What am I talking to you for? I owe you no explanation."
"You don't know what ending your life will do or the
affect it will have on both your family and friends, do
you?" The man walked closer to Blaisdell until he was
only inches away from touching the other man. "I wonder
if you really care."
"What business is it of yours? You don't know me from
John Doe." Paul kept the weapon pointed at the man. This
stranger knew too much about his life and it unnerved him.
"You don't know what you're talking about?"
"You're Paul Blaisdell. You think your family would be better
off if you never lived." The stranger began. "How's that for
starters?"
Paul's mouth dropped open until a thought came to mind.
Only one explanation could explain how this stranger knew
his true intention. "Kermit sent you, didn't he?"
"I don't know any Kermit." The man admitted.
Paul tilted his head back slightly. Suspicion ran rampant.
"Then tell me why you are here?"
The man smiled slightly as he touched Paul's shoulder and
squeezed it. "You have no idea how much you have affected
people's lives over the years. Do you know what their lives
would have been like if you had not interfered in them?"
"I know they would be better off if I had never lived," Paul
said bitterly as he remembered the attack on his family almost
two years ago by two members of the Falcon's Wing. An
attack that he had relived every day since. Hearing his wife
and two daughters's scream as bullets ripped though the
French Doors, not to mention seeing his son diving over the
table, still sent shivers down his back.
"Paul Blaisdell, my name is Charles." The stranger introduced
himself as he began to walk Blaisdell across the bridge. "I'm
going to grant your wish," He waved his hand and the snow
suddenly stopped. "You never lived."
As the two men crossed the bridge a police car came rushing
up the street to meet them.
------------------------
Chapter Three
The patrol car slowly came to a stop. Two officers got
out of the vehicle and approached the two men.
"Is that your car?" The driver of the police car asked as
he pulled out his flashlight and switched it on to see who
he was speaking with. Getting a slight nod from one of the
men, the officers then asked if the two men were all right.
After being assured that neither of the two men were hurt,
he turned his attention to the wrecked car. He knew that it
was totaled. "What happened?"
Charles briefly explained.
"We have to return to the precinct, we'll drop you gentlemen
off there and you can call a taxi to pick you up to take you
to where ever you need to go." The officer opened one of
the back doors of the patrol car and waited until the two men
were inside before he closed it.
Paul leaned closer to the front seat. "Which precinct?"
The second officer turned his head slightly. "The 101st,
why?"
Blaisdell sank back into the seat. "Captain Simms' precinct.
I know her."
The officers glanced at each other before turning
around to look at Blaisdell. "Captain Simms? Who's that?"
"Karen Simms, your Captain." Blaisdell answered. He had
always made it a point to know all the officers who worked
under him. It made the daily operations of the precinct run
smoother. Simms,on the other hand, was a different Captain.
He respected her and knew she was the right person to
replace him.
As the car did a U-turn and headed towards it's destination,
the second officer sighed. "I can hear the Chief yelling now."
------------------
As Paul and Charles walked into the precinct, several police
officers were putting the final touches on some of the Christmas
decorations. Blaisdell stopped at the front desk waiting for the
Desk Sergeant to make eye contact.
John Broderick glanced up from the daily reports he was
working on to see who was standing in front of him. Much
to Blaisdell's dismay, the Desk Sergeant simply asked. "What
can I do for you?"
"Well John, I know it's been almost two years but at least
I expected a friendly, Hi Blaisdell or Captain."
Broderick stared at the man. "Captain? Which precinct? I
don't know you. Are you from out of state? Here to see
our Captain?"
Blaisdell was so startled by Broderick's comment, his mouth
dropped open. "What is this, a joke?" He glanced around the
bullpen. "Where's Frank?"
"Frank who?" Broderick was getting tired of this man and his
twenty questions.
"Frank who?" Blaisdell almost screamed. When several heads
turned in his direction he lowered his voice. "Frank Strenlich,
the Chief of Detectives, that Frank."
Broderick angrily dropped his pen and glared hard at Blaisdell.
"Look friend, Frank Strenlich was busted down to foot patrolman
over a year ago. If you were a police Captain as you claim you
are you would already know that." The Desk Sergeant sighed.
"Since it's the holiday season, I'm not going to book you for
wasting my time. Do us both a favor and ease off on the eggnog."
Charles softly pulled on Blaisdell's coat sleeve. "Come
on Paul. You're wasting this fine gentlemen's time."
Paul started to protest but thought better of it. As the two
men walked outside and down the steps, he waited until the
two of them were alone in the parking lot before he spoke.
"What's the matter with that man? He acts like he's never laid
eyes on me before. I've known him almost fifteen years and
what's the deal with Frank?"
"Mr. Broderick speaks the truth, he does not know you."
Seeing the shocked expression on the other man's face,
Charles continued. "You never lived so how could he have
known you?"
"I'm dreaming," Paul raised his hands in the air. "I must have
hit my head on the steering wheel when the car hit the guard rail
and now I'm hallucinating . That's the only logical explanation
for all this madness."
"I am only granting your wish, am I not?"
"Wish? What are you a genie? Where's your bottle?"
Paul laughed out loud. "Nothing personal but if I wanted
a genie I would have asked for Barbara Eden."
"I'm not a genie, my friend." Charles patted Blaisdell across
the back as he looked up into the night sky. "I'm an angel."
"Yeah right," Paul started laughing harder. He felt the
hand still on his back. "So does this mean I'm touched by
an angel."
"The tv show?" It was Charles turn to laugh. A shooting star
suddenly shot across the sky. "Someone else just got their
wings." He commented confidently with a heartfelt gasp.
"One day it will be my turn, maybe after this little adventure."
Paul rolled his eyes. He was in the presence of a crackpot.
Deciding to leave the so-called angel to his holy mission,
Blaisdell started to move but car lights caught his attention.
He watched as another patrol car pulled into a parking space
and the officer stepped out of the car. Paul recognized him
immediately, only he was in an uniform. "Frank?"
Strenlich stepped up on the curb and gave Blaisdell one of
the most threatening glares Paul had ever seen. "Yeah, who
are you, my ex-wife's lawyer?" He reached out and grabbed
Blaisdell by the lapel. "Isn't working double overtime good
enough for her?" He suddenly released the older man. "Or
are you another one of the Captain's so-called friends? I'm
shocked the Captain would have you attack me in front of
the precinct, possible witnesses didn't scare you?"
"Frank, it's me, Paul. What's wrong with you?" Blaisdell tried
to find some recognition in Frank's eyes. "I thought that you
and the Captain came to an understanding at least that's what
Kermit told me."
"Kermit? What are you, some kind of escaped nut? This is
all I need." Frank shouted over his shoulder as he climbed
the steps to the precinct. "Stupid wacko talking to a green
puppet."
Paul stared at the precinct's door almost wishing them to open.
"I don't understand." He turned to Charles hoping the man had
an explanation. "Can you tell me what just happened? That man
is one of the closest friends that I have and he just brushed me off
as if I were the flu."
"Let's walk to that little corner restaurant. I know you're hungry."
Charles suggested. As they began to walk away from the precinct,
the angel continued. "Chief Frank Strenlich found out that Captain
Stiles was taking bribes and went to Commissioner Cooper with
the information. What Strenlich didn't know, Cooper was in
on the deal as well, so in retaliation they tried to coerce Strenlich
off the force, but the man didn't back down. Instead of letting
them beat him, Frank fought back. With nobody in office to
help him, Strenlich was busted down to foot patrol. Some
reward, huh?"
"I don't understand any of this. Cooper and Stiles were both
arrested for murder." Paul said. "I was there when they went
to trial."
"You were never there, Paul." Charles stated. "Remember you
were never born. Stiles never was over the SWAT team. His
friend Cooper gave him the precinct, a big salary, perks and a
group of dirty cops who watched his back."
"What happened to Blake, Skalany, Powell and the other?"
"Let's finish this conversation over dinner, shall we." The two
continued their walk to the restaurant.
-----------------------
Chapter Four
Sitting in the restaurant watching the last of the Christmas
shoppers eating a calm meal, Paul scanned the area for familiar
faces. Seeing none, he went back to picking at his meal. Glancing
up, he saw Charles drinking. "I thought angels didn't drink alcohol."
"Non-alcoholic." Charles was quick to point out.
Paul wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Okay, say I buy into
what you're saying, tell me what happened to my former officers."
Charles placed his glass on the table. "You already know about
Frank Strenlich and John Broderick even though you refuse to
believe it." He bent over the side of his chair as if he were looking
for something under the table. Seconds later he came back up with
today's newspaper. Handing it to Blaisdell he said, "Open it and
turn to the Entertainment section." Charles waited until Paul
had found the section he had instructed him to find. "Under
non-fiction, best sellers, I'm sure you will recognize the
author in first place."
Paul had pulled out his glasses and read the name. He brought
the paper closer to make sure the name he was reading was correct.
"Blake has a book that's been number one on the best seller list
forty-two weeks. I don't believe it. He's so..."
"Quiet." Charles hinted. He added, "Blake, as you know was one
of the greatest communications and surveillance experts in the
business. Since you never lived, he was recruited by a group
of people who weren't as loyal to him as you were. He was
one of the few that was caught up in the illegal wiretapping
scandal called WaterGate. Blake served ten years in prison
and when he got out he wrote about his experience in a tell all
book. It was a huge success. He had written three others that
were best sellers as well."
"It looks like Blake did better without me."
Charles chuckled softly. "Blake isn't happy. He would have
preferred to spend his life working in surveillance but when
he was used as a scapegoat in the WaterGate trials he lost
his heart and desire. He travels the book tour circuit endorsing
his books. Blake enjoyed his laid back life, he hates what his
life has become."
"I never had that effect on Blake."
"You never noticed because you put your men first." Charles
stated. "Another thing, because you never worked for the
company, you were not there to save Steadman's life. He died
on that mission in Libia. Rykker was captured overseas and
spent fifteen years in a third world prison because the government
refused to acknowledge that he was working for them. He has
become a bitter angry man. He sells his services to the highest
bidder, even resorting to international terrorism."
Paul's eyes narrowed but he remained silent letting the
newly revealed information sink in. It was hard to imagine
Steadman dead and Rykker turned terrorist. Swallowing,
he asked. "What happened to Skalany and Powell?"
"Jody Powell resigned from the police force after she had
her gun taken away from her inside the precinct and the
man who took it, killed a police officer and wounded three
others before he turned the gun on himself. Although no one
held her responsible, Jody blamed herself for the incident.
She hasn't been the same since it happened."
"Wait just a minute, pal," Paul suddenly spoke up. "I know for
a fact that Peter stopped that punk before he even fired that
gun."
"Peter Caine never became a cop because you never fostered
him." Charles watched as the man across the table's eyes
widen. "Remember you were never born. Now it gets worse
for Mary Margaret. Skalany was killed in a small diner when
she tried to stop a robbery in progress. Because Caine was
not there to provide aid until the paramedics came, she bled
to death in her mother's arms."
"What do you mean Caine wasn't there?" Paul was confused.
It was no secret that Caine and Skalany were close, very close.
Charles finished his drink before he continued. "Kwai Chang
Caine cleared his family name by saving the Emperor's life and
then left the city. He had no reason to stay, nor did he meet
Skalany."
"No reason? What about his son? He would have stayed for
Peter."
"Caine and his son's paths will never cross." Charles
realized his words were being misunderstood, he
clarified. "Peter never became a cop. Caine never met
his son in the hospital nor did Tan die. Remember me
telling you that Cooper and Stiles were taking bribes?"
"Yes."
"Their boss is Tan." Charles revealed. "Caine will spend
the rest of his life wandering the country." A waiter came
over with their bill, Charles pulled out his credit card and
paid. After the card was returned to him, he showed it to
Blaisdell. "The Heaven Express, angels don't leave heaven
without them." He stood up and pushed his chair under the
table. "Shall we go?"
Paul got to his feet and joined him. They were on their way
out the door when Paul spotted someone he knew. "That's
Annie! What's she doing here?" He then saw the man who
was accompanying his wife. "My God! It can't be."
Charles grabbed Blaisdell by the arm. "Paul, remember
she isn't your wife. Annie doesn't know you."
"I'm tired of this game, Charles." Paul yanked his arm
out of the Angel's grasp and approached the table where
his wife and her 'friend' had been seated.
-----------------
Chapter Five
The blind woman was extremely nervous as she listened
to the voices in the crowded restaurant. "Mike, let's go
home. I don't like it here. I'm afraid."
"Annie, the food here is great. At least eat something since
I'm paying a small fortune for this meal." Mike West told his
wife as he held his glass up for the waiter to fill it with wine.
"I'm getting tired of being stuck in that dreary old house all
day and I'm sick of your whining. If you don't watch yourself
I'm going to leave you for good. It would be justice if I did,
that way you would learn how much you've made my life a
living hell." Tired of waiting for the waiter to leave, Mike
shouted at the young man. "If you think hanging around our
table like some lap dog is going to get you a bigger tip you are
gravely mistaken."
Annie was not only embarrassed but humiliated. "Mike, please."
She spoke barely above a whisper as she heard several voices
commenting on the rudeness of her husband. She felt someone
standing beside her.
"Annie, it's me, Paul."
"Paul? Paul, who?" The woman said trying to recall the name. "I'm
sorry, but I don't know anyone named Paul. I think you have me
mistaken for someone else." She tried to stop her hands from trembling
as she turned back towards her husband. "Mike, please take me home."
Blaisdell couldn't believe that this woman was his beloved
wife. Annie was spirited, generous and certainly not helpless. Never
in a million years would she be taking the abuse Mike West was
throwing at her. Paul planned to put a stop to it once and for all.
"West, what are you doing out of that mental home? If you think I'm
going to let you harm my wife again, you're dead wrong."
"Your wife?" Annie has been married to me for years." West
yelled at the top of his lungs. "Get out of here, you nut before I call
the police."
"Go ahead." Paul challenged him as he gently pulled Annie to her
feet. "I'm taking you home, babe."
"Let me go." Annie began screaming hysterically. The man
wasn't hurting her but she was frightened. "Somebody help me."
Shocked, Paul released her and ran out of the restaurant with Charles
chasing after him. "I tried to warn you, Paul." The angel caught up
with the dazed man. "Annie was never your wife remember..."
"I know, I was never born." Paul finished the already worn out
phrase that Charles kept saying. He snapped his head in the
angel's direction. "Just tell me how my beautiful Annie ended
up with that sack of..."
"Watch the language," Charles warned him. He sighed.
"I will begin at the beginning..."
"It's about time I got a straight answer out of you."
Before Charles could begin to explain Annie's dilemma,
a car came speeding out of nowhere and missed hitting the
two men by inches as it accelerated down the dark road.
"That would be Griffin on his way to his destiny." Charles
nodded with his head towards the direction the car had
taken. "He's going to kill Tan for a large sum of money."
"Kermit's services are for sale?" Nothing surprised Paul
anymore. He stared down the road long after the vehicle's
tail lights had disappeared. "He was a mercenary, one of
the best but it was never about money. What changed him?"
"You have to ask?" Charles gave him a side glance.
"Griffin never met you, and we both know how few friends
he had." He moved to where the restaurant had it's outdoor
section, found a seat and sat down. "Remember that mission
in Afghanistan that was kept hush hush by the CIA? Both
your families thought you were dead. Since you and your
men were not there, the weapons dealer got away, revealed
Kermit's location and he was captured by the Russians."
Paul remembered from past experience how brutal overseas
prisons treated their inmates. He slowly slid into a chair.
He didn't realize how tired he was until he was sitting
down. "How long was he over there?"
"Three years."
Paul closed his eyes. He could imagine the horrors and
tortures Kermit had been forced to endure before he gained
his freedom. "It gets worse, doesn't it?"
"Yes, because Griffin was captured he was not there to
save his brother David from overdosing on drugs. His
sister Marilyn blamed Kermit for their younger brother's
death. She felt that if he had stayed out of the mercenary
business, he would have been there for David. Brother
and sister haven't spoken to each other in eight years."
Blaisdell was about to ask another question but his attention
was drawn back to the restaurant where Annie and Mike West
were walking out of the building and towards the parking lot.
As the two walked past, Paul held his breath as Annie
desperately held onto Mike's arm, her feet shuffling against
the sidewalk in an effort to keep pace with West, who seemed
to delight in making his wife beg for assistance.
Annie to her credit managed to keep her dignity.
West, seeing that his wife was getting her confidence back
deliberately forced Annie over the side of the curb causing
her to lose her balance.
Blaisdell had seen enough. He quickly pulled Annie away from
the man before he threw a punch that knocked the cocky West
down onto the pavement.
Annie hearing her husband's attack screamed for help. The
doors of the restaurant flew open and several people ran out
to help.
Paul stood in shocked silence as Annie accused him of attacking
her and her husband.
"He shoved you into the street, Annie." Paul tried to protest, but
more people began to file out of the restaurant. The commotion
caused several small businesses to open their doors to see what
was happening.
Several men began to march on Blaisdell. "What's the matter
with you buddy?" One shouted at him.
"How about hitting me, I'm not blind." Another said.
"Assaulting a blind woman is about as low as you can go."
Still another man remarked. He balled his hand into a fist and
began to punch it into his open palm. "I want to see you crawl."
Charles managed to grab Blaisdell by the arm. "We have to leave
now before they form into a mob." Paul tried to protest but to
no avail as they ran down a dark alley and through several dark
streets and out into an open courtyard. There they stayed to
catch their breaths.
Paul leaned against a brick building, his head lowered below
his shoulders. For several minutes he stayed that way. "Annie
would never behave that way. She's too independent, free spirited,
and opinionated. She's nothing like she was back there."
Charles listened for any sound or movement of the crowd that
had been chasing them, satisfied that they were safe, he began
the tale of Annie's life. "You recall what I told you about
Steadman?" Paul nodded and the Angel continued. "With
Steadman's death and you obviously never born, Annie's life
was altered. You two never met on that famous blind date set
up by Steadman, nor would she leave Mike West for anyone
after her parents were killed in a car crash. Six months later,
her sister was killed. Annie never fully recovered. She had no
one to turn to for consolation or a way to express her grief.
West manipulated her life into what she is today."
"Annie's parents are still alive."
"They would have been if you had lived. You always paid
for them to fly in for the holidays. Since that never happened,"
Charles sighed heavily, "her parents were killed on a Christmas
Eve as they traveled on an icy road. They hit a patch of ice and
skidded off a steep incline to their deaths."
"Oh God, poor Annie." Paul whispered. "She doesn't deserve a
life like this. What about the girls? Carolyn and Kelly, they would.."
"Paul, how could your daughters live if you did not."
"You made your point, Charles. I want to live. I've changed
my mind. I was wrong. I want everything to go back to the
way it was. " Blaisdell reached out for the angel, who mysteriously
retreated out of his reach. It suddenly dawned on Blaisdell that
maybe it was too late to change the angel's mind. "Please
Charles, put everything back to normal."
The angel lowered his head but remained silent.
"Kermit, Frank, Annie and...." He ran a nervous hand through
his hair. "My girls, they don't need to suffer for something..,"
Paul went silent and began pacing anxiously back and forth
trying to gather his thoughts. "Peter, for some reason you keep
changing the subject every time I bring up his name. Why is that?"
The Angel began walking toward the woods. "Follow me and
prepare yourself."
--------------------
Chapter Six
Heavy footsteps stomping deep in the snow were the
only sounds that could be heard as the two men walked
through the woods that Paul never realized were there.
They had walked for ten minutes until a clearing came
into view.
Paul stopped to look at the clearing, wondering where they
were as Charles began to climb a small hill. Blaisdell
watched as the angel reached the top and then appeared
to be looking down below. Curiosity got the better of the
former police Captain, he quickly climbed the small hill
to see what Charles was viewing. Paul was surprised to see a
small cemetery, surrounded by an iron fence.
The two scrambled down the hill and stood at the entrance
of the cemetery with neither man wanting to enter. Two
Guardian Angels statues stood by the entrance as if
they were guarding the final resting place of those that
were buried inside.
A cold breeze suddenly blew making Paul tighten his
coat around him before buttoning it. "Charles..."
"Shhhhhhhh..." The Angel held up his hand to silence
the man. He turned back to Blaisdell and raised a finger
to his lips. "We need to get out of sight because company
is coming."
Before Paul could respond, Charles had grabbed his arm
and was pulling him behind some trees just as a dark
shape came into view. He strained his eyes trying to see
out who the figure was. Watching the movement of the person
in dark, Paul recognized that the man was Kermit.
Blaisdell moved to greet his friend but the angel placed a
firm grip on his arm to hold him in place. "He would kill
you if you interfered. Say nothing, just watch."
Both observed by moonlight as Griffin entered the small
cemetery through the iron gate. The man made no sound
as he walked passed several head stones to find the one he
was searching for. Bending down, he placed a bouquet
of flowers on the grave. He brought his hand to his eyes
and lowered his head to mutter a few words. As quickly
as he had appeared, Kermit was gone.
Paul entered the cemetery unaware that Charles was behind
him. He glanced down at the marker Kermit had just visited.
The name engraved on the marker escaped him. He glanced
up to see the angel staring at him.
Charles seemed to be deliberately blocking Paul's view
from something Blaisdell could not see. It had to be
another grave marker. "What are you trying to hide
from me, Charles?"
The angel changed the subject. "I would think you wanted
to know Kermit's reason for being here."
"Yeah?" Paul tried to look over Charles' shoulder but
the angel continued to block his view.
The angel pointed towards the grave behind Paul. "Kermit's
brother is buried there. This is the final resting place for
children and young people. Those that died before their
time."
For the first time Paul Blaisdell took his time to glance
around the small cemetery. Each marker bore the name
of children who died. None had lived past the age of seventeen.
He turned his attention back to Charles. Paul just remembered
the words that Charles had spoken just before they came
to the cemetery. Something about preparing himself, but
for what? He lifted his head and whispered. "Peter."
Once the name was spoken, Charles moved away from the
grave he was blocking. Two words chiseled in stone released
a scream from Blaisdell's throat.
In a cold hard slab of stone was carved the name of his son
Paul stumbled to the grave on all fours. "No. It can't be. It's
impossible." He started clawing at the snow, digging around
the grave marker.
Charles watched the grief stricken man. "Peter Caine was
murdered by his foster father three months before his fifteenth
birthday. The foster father was a violent man who vented his
anger out on a boy who was so withdrawn that he would not
fight back." He tried to get Blaisdell to move but the man jerked
out of his reach. "Paul, we have to leave."
"No!" Blaisdell cried out as he started sobbing. He had finally
cleared the snow from the marker to read the date his son had
died. "Peter was with us." Paul glared up at Charles. "He was
spending his weekends with us before he came to live with..."
"Paul, you never lived. Peter never had the chance to grow up
in the loving home that you and Annie provided him. He lived
through the temple's destruction and was sent to the orphanage.
You were not there to give that lecture for Peter to attend. His
life was altered without you."
Wiping his eyes, Paul stared at the tombstone. "Charles, I want
to live. I want my family. Send me back. I want to live." He glanced
up only to realize that he was alone. "Charles." He got to his
feet and began searching for the missing angel. "Charles, don't
leave me like this. I want to live."
Several minutes past in blind panic as Paul tried in vain to find
his lost companion. Falling down from exhaustion, Paul found
himself at the feet of one of the Guardian Angel statues. "Please,
I want to live." He pleaded to the statue as he buried his head
into his chest and closed his eyes. "I want to live."
Paul knew the temperatue was dropping but he didn't care. He
would rather freeze to death than to live knowing what had
happened to his family and friends without him.
He didn't notice the moon had gone behind the clouds and
snow had began to fall.
------------------------
Chapter Seven
"Paul?"
A hand suddenly placed on his shoulder made Blaisdell
open his eyes. He was shocked to find himself in his car.
"Paul, are you alright?"
Blaisdell looked up to see Griffin standing inside the opened
car door. He did a quick check to see if he was bleeding
before he remembered what had happened. "I lost control
when Charles ran out in front of me."
"Charles?" Kermit gave Blaisdell a questioning look before
glancing over the car roof to see if he could spot anyone who
might be hurt. Watchful of the icy asphalt, Griffin was careful
of his footing as he went to the Corvair, opened the glove
compartment and took out a flashlight. He then did a quick
search of the area. Satisfied, he returned to the wrecked
vehicle. "Paul, there's nobody out here." He leaned inside
the opened car door and shined the light in his friend's face.
Raising his hand to shield his eyes, Paul angrily shoved
Kermit's hand away with his free hand. "What are you doing?"
"Just checking," Kermit muttered under his breath. He knew
Blaisdell wasn't an alcoholic but the last conversation he had
with his friend made him think alcohol might have played
more of a role in Paul's decision to kill himself than Blaisdell's
own choice. Griffin was disappointed when he didn't find evidence
to back up his theory.
"Kermit, did you kill him?" Paul pulled himself out of the wrecked
car. He could only shake his head in confusion as he tried to
remember how he had gotten back to his car. Nothing registered.
He sighed heavily, the cold air causing his breath to smoke. "Charles
said you were going to kill Tan."
"Charles?...Tan was killed by Caine, don't you remember?"
Kermit tried to put the two names together. He knew who Tan
was but the man was dead. Why did Paul think he had killed
the crime lord. "Paul, I think you need to go to the hospital.
You're not making sense. Who's this Charles you keep talking about?"
Blaisdell locked eyes with his friend. "He's an angel."
"Wha,.." Kermit blinked twice before he gently, if not forcibly
moved Paul to the parked convertible. "I'm taking you to the
hospital. If you don't co-operate then this will get ugly."
A hand on his right shoulder made Griffin turn his head. "Kermit,
I'm not sick or drunk. I don't want to kill myself. Someone
showed me how wrong I was." He said with a slight smile. "Just
take me home to my wife and kids."
"Charles?"
Paul nodded. "Let's forget about that little phone conversation we
had, shall we."
"Oh yeah!" Kermit started the car. As he drove towards the
Blaisdell house, Griffin could not imagine what had changed
his friend's mind, but he was thankful nevertheless. He knew
Paul would eventually tell him what had happened and
he was willing to wait.
---------------------------
Annie stood alone in the greenhouse deep in thought.
She felt arms slide around her waist. Slightly leaning
backwards, Annie rested her head against the familiar
chest. "You didn't eat anything, Peter."
"Wasn't hungry." Her son placed his chin on the top of
her head. "We had the Christmas party at the precinct. I
guess I ate too much. I'm sorry."
She turned slightly and raised her hand to caress the side
of his face. "You're lying." Annie felt him stiffen under her
touch, further proof that she was correct. "You couldn't get
away with it when you were a child, Peter. What makes you
think you can get away with lying to me now?" Annie took his
hand and squeezed it. "You want to tell me what's bothering
you? The truth this time. Does it have anything to do with your
father? You know I will understand if you want to leave to be
with him."
"No, that's not it. I'm spending the night with Pop later.
We're going to watch the sun rise." Peter thought about
changing the subject but he knew it would only be a delay
in the obvious, his mother read him like a book. He tried
another tactic. "I'm just tired, Mom."
"Come with me." Annie didn't give him a chance to argue
as she guided him outside. It always amazed Peter how his
mother could maneuver around objects better than any sighted
person. Making their way to the deck, she felt for the chair
she knew was there. "Sit down, Peter."
Her son did as he was told. "Mom, it's cold out here. You.."
"You and Kelly have got to stop treating me like I'm this
porcelain doll who's going to break if I get bumped. I want
it to stop, now. I know you both miss Paul and so do I. Don't
try to hide your emotions because you think it will upset me.
It won't. We are a family and families share everything, good
and bad. Understand? " She reached up with both hands and
cradled his head in between them. Annie waited until he nodded
before she continued. "You don't like it when I coddle you, do
you? All I ask is that you give me the same consideration."
Peter touched his mother's hand before kissing it. "I'll try, but
you know me."
"That I do and I wouldn't have you any other way." Annie lifted
her head turning it in the direction of the greenhouse.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
A smile spread across Annie's lips. She had heard Kelly's
joyous scream, knowing who had just come home. Her
unique hearing had picked up the commotion going on
inside the house. Hearing the door of the green house
sliding open, she said. "I think this is the best Christmas
ever."
Before Peter could respond, he heard footsteps approaching.
He got to his feet trying to see who it was. Recognition set in
on his face once they came within view. "Oh my God!"
"Not hardly." Paul barely had time to compose himself before
his son was in his arms, crying openingly. He hugged the
young man tightly as his wife joined the two.
Peter broke out of the embrace, wiped his eyes and was suddenly
embarrassed. "I'll leave you two alone."
Paul tugged on his son's sleeve. "Make sure you save something
for me to eat." With a quick wink, he released the young man.
Turning his attention back to his wife. "I'm back for good, Babe.
If you'll have me."
"You're going to make it up to me, Blaisdell." Annie wrapped her
arms around the waist of her husband, burying herself inside
his coat. "Even if it takes the rest of your life."
Paul pulled his coat around his wife's shoulders. A flash in the
sky caught his attention. A shooting star sped across the night
sky which made Blaisdell realize it had stopped snowing. "We
have a lifetime to share, Babe."
-----------------------
