

The story of james

By Cynthia J. Soldat

FORWARD

6,801,089,311. That's supposedly the world population. I don't think I can even read that number. But when we think about that kind of volume, how can we possibly expect all minds to think alike?

It would be nice. It would make our lives so much easier and as Christians; of course, we believe that the Bible would be the best guideline for everyone to follow. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way.

Narrowing down the ginormous figure above to a community here in the United States where the population might only be a couple hundred thousand, there are still such diversities in character and traditions that it's unlikely that absolutely everyone will get along.

But again, as Christians, we'd like to think that even if we don't all think exactly alike, we can at least be civil and respectful of each other's values. And I think most folks feel that way. However, there are some who see things in an different light.

Take the commentator/comedian Bill Maher. Here's a man who has every right to speak his mind and express his views, but who takes pride in degrading the intelligence of people of faith, calling them extremist who are basically ignorant about whatever his version of truth might be. To my knowledge, though, he uses nothing other than inflammatory remarks to make his case.

The Atheist Revolution takes it a bit further. Their slogan 'breaking free from irrational belief and opposing Christian extremism in America' claims that there are nearly five million people who identify themselves as Atheist living in the US. For the most part, they and other likeminded groups harass Christians at funerals or fight for legislation to eliminate its symbols from all public places.

In Cranston, Rhode Island a sixteen year old girl was awarded $41,000 in 2012. The funds are being held in trust by another Atheist group called American Humanists for her fight to have a prayer mural taken down from the high school she attended. I won't mention her name because of her young age. Blogger Hermant Mehta started the fundraising efforts and turned the money over to American Humanists in trust, but it's believed that the full amount raised was just under $200,000. These groups are continuously working toward eliminating any religious context from where ever the courts will allow.

There are some who take their resentment of religion to their own extremes, even beyond their efforts toward the eradication of Christianity through the courts. Like so many who carry the banner of one cause or another like anti-war groups or anti-government anarchist, they feel they are justified in destroying property or even doing physical harm to individuals. Strange how people who claim to be anti-war are found fighting a war in the streets for their cause without regard for the idea that some of the very people whose property they destroy might actually agree with them on a basic level.

Yet, this is who we are. But we're a country where opposing philosophies are not only allowed, but are protected within our Constitution. Opposing ideas are welcomed for the sake of balance and growth.

Although I was raised in a Congregational church and my folks took me to services every Sunday until I was fully grown; for a myriad of reasons, I stayed away from it for over twenty years after that. I remember how uncool it was to talk about religion with my friends. They'd actually cringe at the very thought of talking about Jesus. We now live in an age of sexual freedom and uncensored expression. I was part of the problem. I was influenced by the times and I yielded to them.

One day, I'm not sure why, I just said to myself; it's now or never and I decided to read the New Testament. I couldn't put it down. For about a week, I read every day after work and sometimes into the night. To my relief, I discovered I could believe what I was reading. When asking myself why I could trust word of the Bible, I could only answer in a most simple term.

Because it was good. The way Jesus asked us to live was good. Everything about it was good. I know that seems all too basic to persuade a person that the Bible is truth, but I just knew it. So, I decided to pray in a much more conversational way with God than the way I had previously prayed. In fact, I don't remember how I prayed before that. I know I thought about God and spoke to Him in my mind, but I didn't actually take the time and put myself in a place where I could speak out loud to God, asking questions, talking about my concerns and, of course, seeking forgiveness. It was many more years, though, before I returned to church. My sister and I have been talking on the phone every Saturday for years. Unexpectedly, she started going back to church and she mentioned it to me during one of those calls. It stuck in my mind for a number of weeks before I decided to try the church where I vote not far from my house and I've been going ever since.

The point is, in all those years where my life was a battle between good and evil, and it still is, I became acutely aware of how the temptations of the world can lure us with lies of social comfort. Too often people around us will accept us far more readily when we toss our morality out the window or taunt those whose values restrain them. It's easier to call people of faith irrational and radical than to live within the guidelines of the teachings they follow. Look at television and today's movies. Immorality is glorified! Not just in movies or sitcoms, but I've seen it in the talk shows, including the shows where a bunch of ladies sit around to discuss world political and social issues. They've joked about promiscuity or being drunk, sometimes about themselves, without even mentioning the risks involved in such behavior. Great. Now our kids can be exposed to these famous people who seem to think wild, irresponsible acts are merely a normal phase we can all easily survive, so I guess it's okay for them to try it, too. Worse, so many celebrities still behave that way and seem to be proud of it.

When I was growing up, there was censorship in television where even using the word 'pregnant' or seeing a woman's belly button was forbidden. Ok, so maybe the censors went too far, but one would think that once these restrictions were lifted, morality would kick in and, for a while, I think it remained. But not today. There are very few series or movies on television without extreme violence and a glorifying of boozing, drugging and swearing. In fact, it's a big part of today's humor. As for the parts that are not supposed to be funny, well, the Hollywood elite still claim validity because it's merely a reflection of our existing society. I ask them, where's the depiction of the other voices who disagree?

Hollywood finds every excuse imaginable for bad behavior. They justify their role in making movies with practically no balance between moral in immoral behavior because in Hollywood they have decided that what they depict in their movies is simply a reflection of how the world really is while completely ignoring the segment of society, which is actually quite large, that still clings to religious values.

One can certainly find many of the Hollywood elite on air pleading to save trees, caribou and turtles, but their voices are silent when it comes to teaching our children not to take drugs or drink alcohol or to use abstinence as birth control versus the 'well, they're doing it anyway' mentality of today. Rather they have kids performing in movies laughing and joking about being drunk or stoned.

Instead, they're demanding that we supply birth control to twelve year olds because the kids are going to do it anyway. Fortunately, there are some in Hollywood who still have a higher set of values. For those few; however, their careers have often been put in jeopardy because those who make the films, in discovering the enormous profit that can be made from immorality, do not want their world challenged.

So I am not surprised that in the here and now, the resentment toward Christians, in particular, has grown. It's clear that many people believe that their way of life is threatened by our faith. It's much easier for them to hate us than to accept the morality of religious conviction which would hold them back.

Oh, believe me, we Christians have a long way to go, too, when it comes to morality. How I struggle with my own sin. Nearly every time I pray, I weep as I face head on the weight of the truth that lives inside me. In looking back over my life at countless errors in judgment and behavioral mistakes, it's a wonder to me that God even bothers to take time listening to my prayers. I've read the Bible and other inspirational pieces, longing to find the assurances that even a sinner like me is worthy of God's love. My sister is a pastor and she has done her best to convince me that God's love for me is so great that He will never abandon me and will bless me with His grace and mercy always; yet, I'm still filled with profound confusion when I watch the tragedies that overtake us all over the world through today's news. It's a never ending battle of good over evil; of obedience over temptation and of humility over arrogance. It's a constant an uphill challenge, but it's one I choose to embrace.

I believe many of the people who enter our lives are, in fact, sent from God. Just when we can't face one more heartache; some individual appears, be it a stranger or someone known to us, to lift us up in ways we might not see until we're in the position to look back. The good news is that in the end of all things, those of us who believe know who will win the battle over darkness no matter how fiercely the enemy strikes. God will carry us to the freedom we long for so intensely where the only tears that flow come from a cup overflowing with love.

DISCLAIMER

My story was inspired by the news I've read about and seen on TV from around the world. The characters and organizations depicted in this novel are fictional. Any similarity to actual individuals or existing organizations is purely coincidence.
Chapter 1

The aroma of sizzling bacon and coffee filled the diner where Susan McGregor and her two children regularly had brunch after morning services. She couldn't help but notice the gaudy decorations the restaurant had put up on this first Sunday after Thanksgiving, but she didn't say anything lest her children label her a Scrooge.

"So, kids, I wonder what the meeting with Pastor Agnes is about this afternoon. She didn't really say for sure, but I think it'll be something on the Three Kings. She kept mentioning how Jesus received the three gifts for his birthday and how we've corrupted Christmas with so much commercialization, you know?"

Her curiosity didn't impress her son. He rarely paid much attention in church, but his mother's words were just enough to arouse some apprehension in his already distraught mood.

"My life is already over," he said, "Nothing she could say could make it any worse."

Susan was aware of her son's superstitions about his birthday, but she wasn't aware that he'd been telling his fiends how his Christmas would be doomed this year. After all, he celebrated his thirteenth birthday in the year 2013 on Halloween Day. He couldn't imagine any more clear omens than that to confirm that Christmas would be nothing short of a big disappointment this Christmas.

"Why would you say a thing like that?" she asked.

Maggie reached across the table with a straw to poke at her brother, "He thinks he's jinxed because of his birthday, stupid little boy. He's been telling his friends that Christmas will be a complete flop this year."

Susan cut short the teasing, "Maggie, don't start," then she turned to her son who was sitting on her side of the booth, "I thought you were over this being born on Halloween thing."

"I thought I was, too, until I just happened to turn thirteen in the year 2013 and, oh yeah, on Halloween. I'd call that a particularly strong sign, wouldn't you?"

Brushing her hand over her son's head, Susan to settle her son's nerves, "No, dear. It's not a sign. It's a coincidence. There's no cloud of doom hanging over your head. I'm so proud of you. You're doing well in school and let's not forget, you're one heck of a great ice skater. I think that makes you pretty special. Anyhow, I wouldn't allow any son of mine to be jinxed. I simply wouldn't allow it."

Nelson rolled his eyes and contracted into his seat while Maggie persisted to annoy him, "Yeah, I'm sure you'll be famous someday. I can just see you skating around in those cute little tights."

The diner wasn't too crowded and so service was pretty quick and before Susan could scold Maggie again, the waitress interrupted them with their plates. Fortunately, food was a better deterrent than discipline, anyway, allowing them the silence of consumption without further incident.

After leaving the diner, Susan dropped the kids off at home; warning them to stay out of trouble and to finish their homework before she returned to the church office to meet with Pastor Agnes and other church members. The living room like space at the church was already nearly filled when she arrived. Her best friend Sarah was already seated alongside Mildred and Ralph Hillsinger who were both deacons of the church.

After a few minutes of greetings, allowing for the members to grab a cup a coffee, Pastor Agnes arrived in an ankle length, plaid skirt with a fuzzy green turtleneck sweater. The same wooden cross hung from her neck that she had worn every day since she was ordained. She carried a wooden box containing an antique nativity scene that she carefully unwrapped and set each piece on the table beside her. For a brief moment, she just sat there collecting her thoughts before she began to speak, "Welcome everyone. Thank you all for coming today. I know it's the beginning of the holiday season and everybody has lots to do."

She smiled, "Lord knows with my daughter and son-in-law coming to stay with us in a couple of weeks, and with our six grandchildren, I could use some vacation time just to find the beds in our guestrooms underneath all the stuff!"

Her words prompted chuckles with the familiar circumstances to which most members could relate, "But I have to tell you; I went to the mall last week on Black Friday and it wasn't a pretty sight."

Pastor Agnes was interrupted by Ruth Brady, an elderly woman who was known for being a little cranky, "It was a gosh-darn madhouse. Heck, some folks were seriously hurt in that mob when Samson's Electronics opened its doors. I nearly got knocked down myself and all I was looking for was a cell phone for my great grandson and it wasn't even on sale!"

"Exactly," Pastor Agnes agreed, "I saw people acting like animals just to buy something that more than likely has been on sale a dozen times throughout the year no better priced than it was that day. It got me thinking that we really need to do our part to maybe bring a different set of priorities to our Christmas season. I know times are hard and it's not easy when you're raising a family and working several jobs. You want Christmas to be the joy that breaks up the normally inflexible working schedule most of us have. The holiday has got to stand out. It's got to be amazing to break up the hum drum of the cold winter. So, what do we do?

We buy, buy, buy. We want our kids to have their breath taken away by what they see under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. Am I right?"

Multiple voices replied, "Oh yeah. That's right."

"But think about what sometimes happens to us," the pastor continued, "We have good intentions, but there's little doubt that sometimes greed gets the best of us. Those people I saw were representative of how we've allowed Christmas to become so much of a fountain of excess that it turns the calm in us to an almost frantic obsession.

And what makes it worse is that; just a few stores down by the food court, there was a Christmas tree that was packed with the names tags of needy families. It was so full that you could barely see the green of the tree through the white of the tickets. So much need out there. I sat by it for a while to see how many people passing by would take note and maybe pick one of the tickets off the tree, but not a single person stopped.

I know it was just the beginning of the season and I'm sure lots of people will eventually pull those tickets off the tree, but I'm not as confident about that as I used to be. I remember a time when all the tickets were taken off a tree like that within a day or two of them putting it up. Now, people seem to be making sure they can get all they want for themselves before considering what can be done for someone who might be less fortunate. Is that what we're about?

I sure hope we're more than that. Do you know why I concentrated on the Three Kings during the sermon this morning?"

Pastor Agnes lifted up the baby Jesus from the display, "Here we had a child who was called Lord of Lords, The Messiah, King of Kings of all the earth and what did he have brought to him?

The Magi actually brought their three gifts not just to celebrate the coming of Jesus, but to afford the holy family the means to live for their son's sake. And they did come a bit after Christ was born, but that's not the point. We expect more for ourselves than was given to the greatest man in all eternity. We need to become an example in our church of a better way. We need to get back to what Christmas really is."

"So what's your idea, Pastor Agnes?" Mildred asked.

"Well, of course, I want us to do as much as we can to help those in need in the community, starting perhaps by picking off those tickets from the tree in the mall and making sure every person on there is remembered at Christmas. But I'd like to ask our church members this year to make a commitment. A kind of pledge, as a symbol to show that Christmas truly belongs to Christ."

"So we should simplify our Christmases and give the glory of the celebration back to Jesus," Susan said.

'Amens' and 'Hallelujahs' echoed in the room, "Right on, Susan," Pastor Agnes said, "That's exactly what I mean. I want to suggest that we buy no more than three gifts for each person in our own lives. It will be the theme of this church this year and, if it works out, we could make it a permanent theme. Something this church will be known for always.

Cutting back on the gifts we give to each other is simply to make the point that Christmas isn't about us. It's about the gift GOD gave to us by sending His only Son to live among us, to teach us and to ultimately die for us.

Let's also reach out to the school, social services and the first responders to see if there is some area where the need to help might need a boost. They have connections to those who might have faced a hardship that we might not know about. In some cases, our efforts might only be in the background, but that's what Jesus asks of us; not to boast about our efforts.

Now, I know we have always done good work as much as we have been able, but perhaps if we tighten our own belts this year, there might just be a little more we can do to help others. I have a friend at the Record who might write something up for us in the paper that could be used as just a little inspiration to other groups in the community that might understand what we're trying to accomplish and join us." Pastor Agnes took a breath, "So, what do you think?"

One person asked, "What if we've already done a lot of shopping? I'm an early shopper. Heck, I started the day after Christmas last year!" she giggled.

"I know what you mean," Pastor Agnes said, "I do the same thing. We start so darn early because we have such high expectations of our celebration. We concentrate on creating this massive event for our families to the point of starting a whole year ahead. By the time Christmas comes around, the kids we bought for have already changed their minds about what they want."

"No kidding," another lady said, "I ran out to the after Christmas sale at Toys-R-Us last year for a Barbie for my daughter. Just last week she was telling me that she's too old for Barbies anymore and now she wants a gosh darn computer."

"Well, I don't expect you to return the things you've already bought, of course, but if you bought something that your kids don't want or need anymore; or even if you think you've already spent too much and they might not notice if you decided to give away some of the things you bought, then, do that. Put those things aside for charity.

Each of you has to decide how to fit this idea into your own household. Some of you might want to spend Christmas in exactly the same way as you've always done, but you still want to help with volunteering or donating and that's great. This whole concept is based on reviving the true Christmas spirit versus the crazy commercialized event that barely resembles the Christmas that brought Jesus into our lives. It won't be a mandate. It will be a theme meant to inspire new traditions that are strictly voluntary."

Jack Forrest, nick named by many of the children Jack Frost, had been sitting in the back of the room quietly listening, but not speaking until he heard Pasto Agnes mention his name, "Jack, as a contractor, you might have connections who might help fix up a rotted porch for a family or maybe just fix a leak in someone's bathroom free of charge."

He scrubbed his beard with his hand, "I recon I could get a few of my friends to do a couple of freebies, as long as it don't cost too much, he, he " he smiled and winked at Pastor Agnes.

"You're always the jokester, Jack," she teased back, "but those are the kinds of things I'm talking about," Pastor Agnes continued, "Simple things that could make such a big difference to someone else. And I hope we can involve our kids, too," she began to pace back and forth a little as she continued, "Now, I'm guessing some of them won't be too thrilled about the idea of only getting three presents for Christmas, but if we can show them the rewards of giving and keep them busy, maybe they won't notice. Okay, okay, so they might throw a tantrum," she laughed, "but who knows. I've always been very impressed with the youth in our church. Maybe they'll surprise us. So, do you think we can do this?"

Jack was the first to raise his hand as he looked for confirmation around the room, "I'm in!"

Mildred and Ralph chimed in, "Us, too," followed by all the other members.

"Heck," Ruth Brady said with a chuckle, "It certainly will make shopping a lot less complicated. Let's do it!"

And so it went, Pastor Agnes called her friend Dan McKinley at the Record and asked him to print a small editorial about the church's plan. She hoped he could get it in before the end of the upcoming week.
CHAPTER 2

It was after cheerleading practice that Maggie and her best friend Sam (short for Samantha) told Coach Mills about the meeting her mom attended at church. She explained that her mom was taking Pastor Agnes's words and applying them to her own home; thus, cutting back on gifts and, instead, getting the family involved in outreach activities.

"So how's the runt taking it?" Sam asked.

"Like the same old doom and gloom he's been expecting since his birthday. It's just par for the course. He's sure it's some mystical conspiracy to make his life miserable."

Coach Mills had heard about Nelson's preoccupation with his birthday, "I heard some of the other kids teasing him about it. I put a stop to it when I saw it, the damage was already done and it certainly didn't help his self-image."

Knowing how annoyed Maggie could get with her brother, Coach Mills continued, "I hope you don't add to the problem, Maggie. Little brothers can get on your nerves, I know, but he's at a very vulnerable age and he really needs your support."

Maggie lowered her eyes, clearly feeling just a little guilty, "Well, he really does get on my nerves. This whole issue about turning thirteen drives me nuts; like it's some sort of curse or something."

"It is silly, Maggie, but at this moment it's real to him. He'll get over it soon enough, but until then, you should be there for him. Just pretend like you're his knight in shining armor, ready to protect him from the evil forces that seek to destroy him," coach Mills teased.

"Yeah," Sam added, "Tell him you and I will punch the lights out of those brats if they tease him again."

"Whoa!" Coach Mills said, "No violence girls, but you can certainly intimidate the boys with words. If you appear to be strong and confident, that's usually enough to cause kids like that to wilt away. They're not used to being challenged. In fact, you might want to coach your brother into speaking out and standing up for himself. You'd be amazed how cowardly bullies really are and simply confronting them with strong words can often scare them away."

Maggie thought for a minute, "I suppose he's not all THAT bad. He did cover for me when he found my cell phone when I forgot it at school the other day. Mom would have killed me if she found out."

"See," Coach Mills said, "He's got your back. You should have his."

"Maybe," a reluctant Maggie agreed, "but he better not keep embarrassing me by wearing that stupid silver bullet around his neck. Can you imagine what he'd do if he ever found out it isn't even silver?"

Sam chuckled, "Like I think he believes those kids can be warded off like werewolves. What a dimwit!"

Coach Mills rolled her eyes, "Seriously, Maggie, I kind of like the way your mom is handling Christmas," she said changing the subject, "Limiting your gifts to three as a symbol of your faith isn't a bad idea at all and I might just do that in my household, too. And I think the girls on the team might like to participate in the message of getting Christ back into Christmas. Maybe we could organize something like a bake sale, auction combination to collect money for some worthy cause during this season. We'd have to get it done really quickly, but we face tight schedules all the time and we're used to putting things together on a dime."

The idea caught Sam's attention, "Did you hear about the Fiore family? We could collect money for them. They just lost their home in a fire last week."

"I didn't hear about that." Coach Mills responded.

Maggie filled her in, "My mom didn't even know about it until I told her. Some vandals set a bunch of trash cans on fire right near the door of their house. There's so much of that stuff going on over in that neighborhood, I guess, that people don't think anything of it, I guess."

"Yeah," Sam said, "When the guy who lives there, I think his name is Rick, went out to investigate and saw the fire, the flames were so high they got inside on some curtains or something. The place went up in seconds. His mom and dad got out, but his dog was still inside. For some reason, the dog wouldn't come when he called and so he went back inside to get it. I heard he got burns on his arm, but he's okay."

"By the time the fire department got there, everything was in flames," Maggie added.

"Oh my Lord. How dreadful,"coach said, "Well, it sounds like we've found our project. I think we should do this, don't you?"

Word spread around the school quickly, like they do in a public school, and within just a couple of days, the buzz about the event was heard in every classroom. Maggie didn't know Rick other than to see him in her economics class and, once in a while, in the cafeteria, but on the day Coach Mills called a meeting of the cheerleaders to discuss the event, he stopped to talk to her in the hallway.

"Hey, it's Maggie, right?" he said, "I heard what the cheerleaders are planning for my family."

"Yeah, I hear you got burned? Are you okay?"

Rick's arm was slightly bulging under his shirt where the bandage wrapped his arm, "I'm fine, but I'm really glad you're helping out my parents. Thank you. They lost everything."

"What about you?" Maggie asked, "I guess you lost all of your things, too."

"Yeah, but nothing I had was all that important. I got my dog out and that's all I care about."

"Did you find a place to stay?"

"Uh, we're staying with my grandparents over Anthony's Pizza. They have an apartment over the store. They don't own it, but my dad and my grandpa have worked there as far back as I can remember. My dad pretty much runs it."

"Well, I'm just glad you have a place to live," Maggie said already thinking about how she could get to better know the handsome boy who stood before her. She remembered how he always came up with answers in her economics class, a class she barely understood, "By the way. I hate to ask, but if you don't mind, well," she stumbled, "I've seen you in class and you seem to really know your stuff. I'm not so good at it myself. Maybe sometime you could come over and study with me. If it's not too much trouble, I mean," Her nerves caused her to stumble over her words, "I mean, I know you guys must be overwhelmed with stuff right now. Anyway, I sure could use some help, but only if you think you could do it with everything else going on and all."

But Rick was eager to help. It was almost a relief to get his mind off his family's tragic circumstances, "Sure, just let me know when."

"We have that paper due soon. Do you think you could come over on Friday?"

Although neither wanted to be too transparent, it was clear that the attraction was mutual, "Now, let me think. Uh, I don't think I have to meet with the board of directors of Sky International until next week so, um, I guess that sounds good." He teased and then he added, "Tell your mom I'll bring pizza for dinner that night." And with a sweet grin, he walked away.

Maggie called out to him to ask how his dog was, but he was too far away and he didn't hear her. She headed for the meeting with thoughts dancing in her head about what she might wear on Friday.

With the bake sale just a few days away, Coach Mills addressed the cheerleaders with appropriate urgency, "As most of you have heard, the Fiore family lost their home in a recent fire. Worse, it's suspected that the fire was caused by some guys who belong to a gang. One of the suspects is Phillip Varnas. He's no angel, by any means. They say his nick name is 'Slice' which was earned when he cut up a kid in a rival gang in a fight. He and his dad are both known for violence. Coincidentally, they were both convicted in the past for fire related crimes, but nothing as serious as this one. I don't know if the police have enough on them to arrest them, but it just goes to show you that there are a lot of nasty, nasty people out there. What a horrible shame."

Coach Mills continued, "Anyway, we want to help this family as much as we can. We don't have much time at all to organize this, but I have faith in you girls to get a lot of folks to donate their time and baked goods. Oh, and by the way, I talked to a friend of mine who is somewhat of a socialite around town and she's got a lot of connections. She thinks she can get a lot of really nice stuff to auction off and she even plans to organize the renovation of a vacant machine shop she knows about that she got the town to donate. She's already got some contractors involved and she found some volunteers to paint. I think we can help in that area as well. Stauffer's store is even donating all the furniture and appliances.

Now listen you guys, the part about converting the machine shop to a home for them is a surprise for the family and so don't go talking about it with anyone because you know it would spread like wild fire, pardon the expression, if you did so mums the word. We want it to be a total surprise."

The girls were amazed at how fast Coach Mills put together all the plans, "Don't worry, Coach, we're on it."

"Okay, girls, let's have a prayer." And the coach bowed her head, "Dear Lord, these girls have such big hearts. What an amazing group. They have strong values and strong ethics. Please help us to pull this together and please bless and protect your awesome children. In Jesus name. Amen."

After the prayer, the girls stood up and joined hands in their unison cheer, "We are the girls of Tremont High. Confident, sure and never shy. Ready to win. Ready to fly." Then, they raised their hands and waved them in the air

Soon after Maggie got home, her phone rang, "Hey Maggie, it's Rick. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind already."

"Of course not. I'm glad you're coming. By the way, I tried to ask you about your dog, but you zipped out of there so darn fast. He, she, is it alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine. It's Sugar. In fact, she became a mom after the fire. That's why she wouldn't come out on her own. She was about to give birth. She had her pups within a couple of hours after the fire. Can you imagine?"

"Oh my gosh. Did Sugar get burned?"

"Nah, I wrapped her in the blanket from her crate. I got a little burned from grabbing the crate, but she's okay. She's a little dog and so it wasn't too much to carry."

"Whew, that's amazing. I'm so glad you all got out okay. Are the puppies okay?"

"Yep, we have four of them. They're 'Russelpoodles'," Rick laughed.

"Russelpoodles?"

"Yeah, Sugar is a Jack Russell and she messed around with our neighbor's little poodle. It made for some pretty cute puppies."

"Oh, my brother would go nuts. He's wanted a dog forever. Can we come see them sometime?"

"Sure. Maybe we'll have a new place in a couple of weeks and you both can come over. It's a little too crowded right now at grandpa's, though."

"Of course, I almost forgot. Well, I'll see you Friday, then. Around six-thirty?"

"Good enough. See you then. Bye now."

Meanwhile, an editorial appeared in the Record newspaper that day, and also on the Record's website entitled THE NEW GUIDE TO CHRISTMAS from Pastor Agnes Pierce of the Colonial Baptist Church. The piece explained how the church's idea came about and how the church planned to proceed for the Christmas season; but, the reporter also interjected his own opinion of Pastor Pierce's call to bring back Christ into Christmas. Later that night, he read his editorial on his TV news show as well.

'While the idea of limiting Christmas gifts to three might seem a bit radical, Pastor Pierce did make it clear that it was not a mandate from the pulpit, but rather a voluntary action chosen by the parishioners. The suggestion is their church's way to promote the idea that Christmas belongs to Christ. The church is also committed to joining other charitable groups to make sure that folks in need are not forgotten.

I expect there will be some criticisms from the usual anti-Christian groups, but I am proud to say that the Record supports this church and any other church in the community with an equal right to air their commentary in this paper. This reporter has come face to face with the violence that so often accompanies the objections to religious expression and I think it's about time we come together as a community to support people of faith and the protection the Constitution of the United States provides for their right to practice those beliefs.'

Somewhere in the article, besides the listing the Pastor's name, other participating members' names were also mentioned, including Susan McGregor. Unfortunately, not everyone who saw the editorial read on air or read it in The Record shared Dan McKinley's tolerance.
CHAPTER 3

James Varnas stood before the poster that promoted the auction/bake sale outside the cafeteria. He took the gum from his mouth and pasted it to Maggie McGregor's name where she was listed as a contact for donations.

"My dad thinks her mom is a Jesus freak," He said to Slug, his spiked haired, considerably shorter friend. His eyes were squinted with intensity as he made a mental note of Maggie's name, "He said that all this stuff about good deeds and cutting down on presents is just the beginning. Pretty soon they'll do away with all our freedoms with their self-righteous attitudes."

Although Slug wasn't thrilled with the nickname James had given to him, he believed that being friends with such a tough guy secured his own safety, especially in their neighborhood where rival gangs were prevalent. Besides, he saw something in James that most other kids didn't. Although James wasn't to be messed with, Slug saw a softer side in his friend; a side he assumed James didn't want to show through, perhaps for safety reasons.

So, in spite of his embarrassment over the name, Slug pretty much went along with whatever James said. He was almost afraid to ask, but knowing how James' family was, he blurted out, "So, do you think something will happen?"

"You mean will my dad and brother do something stupid?"

"Well..."

"Yeah, they'll probably find something to raise hell about, but I don't know of anything yet. I'll keep a watchful eye, though."

Meanwhile, across the building, Coach Mills was on the phone going over specifics about the event with her high society friend Tabitha, "That's amazing, Tabitha. I knew you would come through for us, but I never imagined you'd be able to create a miracle."

Through her vast connections, Tabitha was not only able to get the vacant machine building donated, pull together a team of workers to repair, clean and paint the space; she advised Coach Mills that she was able to collect enough donations from local businesses to pay the taxes on the property for two years with enough left over to provide a substantial scholarship for Rick to attend college.

"I'm sick and tired of those gangs terrifying our neighborhoods," Tabitha said, "My contractor friend has had some vandalism happen at his shop, too, and we've just had enough. We're going to show those idiots that no matter what they try to do to us, we'll pull together and fight back. My gosh, they burned crosses outside of his place. No more. We just won't take it anymore."

"Amen to that," Coach Mills said.

It had been little known that Rick was a Big Brother to young Adam whose dad had been a former gang member who was killed. Tabitha discovered it through her friend who was also a Big Brother when she asked him to help with organizing some of the teens in the program to help clean the building. It was through that knowledge, along with the facts surrounding the whole fire incident, that she inspired such large donations. Of course, when Maggie heard the good news, she told her mom who, in turn told Pastor Agnes who found enough church members to assist in the cheerleaders' project so that all their needs were met. Pastor Agnes then updated Dan McKinley, the reporter who was originally contacted, and he agreed to update the progress being made by the church in a second editorial without specifically mentioning the surprise; a secret more difficult to keep with every passing day.

'It seems that giving Christmas back to Christ is catching on. Word is that the Community Baptist Church is joining the cheerleaders of Tremont High in putting on a major event to collect money for the Fiore family who recently lost their home to a fire. Hmm, I wonder what group might have been responsible for that. I think we all have a pretty good idea.

With so much attention being given to this fundraiser, in spite of the risks from these local gang members, more and more attention is also being given to the church's quest to bring back the true spirit of Christmas. Donations have been pouring in with such large gifts that it is likely that the end amount will be sufficient enough to spread the good will to a lot more families in need.

As a reporter, I feel obligated to cover all the news about the violence and corruption that are all too plentiful in times like these, but it must be said that I am also proud to cover such a remarkable, positive story of faith as well. I'd like to see more coverage about the slime who burned down the Fiore's house instead of the main stream media making excuses for them just because their neighborhood isn't all that high end. I say, so what. Heck, I was raised in a poor neighborhood, too, but I worked my way through college taking on as many jobs as I had to in order to pay for my education. I did alright. Maybe if they allowed a little God in their lives, they have a better chance for a decent life. For all those politically correct media outlets that refuse to cover this story, I say Bah Humbug to you!'

When Mr. Varnas read the editorial over dinner that night, he told his sons, "I'm so sick and tired of these Jesus freaks pushing their weight around. You can't go anywhere anymore without one of them getting in your face asking for one thing or another. That family got what they deserve. Maybe they won't be so pious next time. All those freaks think they're so much better than the rest of us just because they go to church. Who the hell do they think they are? They ain't no better than me. There ain't no God anyway."

He rubbed his fingers through his overgrown, ash blond hair, "Those stupid radicals. If I hear one more word about Jesus Christ, Christ, they'll be sorry they ever were born."

Kathy Varnas reached over her husband to put another portion of pasta on his plate before setting the bowl on the table. She crossed herself, lowering her eyes and said, "It's not good to speak of our Lord that way,"

But she couldn't retreat quickly enough. WHAM! Her husband's muscular arm, adorned with his tribute to the 'Laisve' gang, swung out to slap her hard across her face. Laisve was a Lithuanian word meaning freedom, but he showed no acceptance for Kathy's freedom of faith. Slice didn't react at all to his mom's beating, but James bowed his head to avoid watching. With a red mark covering her cheek, she took her seat at the opposite end. Still shaking, she began to eat in silence, but she could feel her younger son's hand on her knee as a weak sign of comfort. About to turn sixteen, James had been in trouble a few times, but somewhere inside of him was a decent kid wishing he could find a way out. He witnessed his dad hit his mom before and he hated it with a passion, but as tall and strong as he was, he couldn't take on both his dad and his brother. His older brother threatened her on a regular basis as well, but James was too afraid to openly defend her, causing him to feel shame. His self-esteem had been crushed so many times through the belittling of his dad and his brother that his survival depended on the appearance of indifference.

So James developed a tough exterior. He was often confused, emotionally torn between receiving some sort of acceptance from his dad and his brother and his profound desire to rescue his mom.

He targeted Slug to become his only true friend because he knew Slug was a decent kid in spite of his somewhat sleazy appearance. His red and black spiked hair was wonderfully freakish. He was short, but his secret desire to someday become a marine caused him to keep private the fact that he worked out lifting weights nearly every day. Only James knew that his outward display of dependency was hiding a hard body strong enough to take out just about anyone in the gangs if they got cornered. Neither of them were violent people, though. They avoided conflict as much as they could and maintaining their rough exteriors was as much a weapon as the inner strength they hadn't yet discovered.

Deep down, James had no desire to be around the older gang members, but he had little choice. He and Slug managed to be somewhere else most of the time when confrontation was imminent, but he still maintained a callus, indifferent exterior. In the core of his soul, he dreamed of a day when he'd be even taller than his brother and stronger than his dad, but for now, all he could afford was an occasional hidden gesture toward his mom in the hopes she'd see through his hardened façade into the heart that struggled to emerge.

James didn't believe in Christmas. After all, there would never be a big family dinner on Christmas day when joyful relatives came to visit. He had seen movies on TV that taught him that the foundation of the holiday was based on Santa Clause and a ton of presents under a tree that would never exist in his house. Once in a while, James would hear his mother quietly praying in her room when his dad and brother were out on the prowl. He thought about the Jesus whose name she so often mentioned. Who was this man, he wondered, and why did his mom feel the need to talk to him anyway?

So, after he finished his meal, James walked out of the house without a word to either of his parents. His mom knew he'd taken change from her purse to play the games at the arcade with Slug, but she never confronted her son because she thought it was better for him to be at the arcade versus hanging around on street corners. James' also earned a little money when he sneaked in some chores after school at the homes of a couple of the teachers who recognized his gifted mind. The boys played the games until James was fairly sure Slice had gone out with his friends and his dad was passed out before he felt assured he could go home to sleep peacefully until morning.

He lay on his bed looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. He might as well have been invisible for all the love or attention he received from anyone in his family. There were occasional hints that his mom had some feelings toward him, but he wasn't sure if they were real or just a desperate hope.

During the early hours before he got himself up for school, he overheard his dad and his brother talking. Neither of them sounded sober and he couldn't make out their entire conversation, but he did hear things that concerned him. They seemed to be talking about some sort of devious plan. James heard the words 'Jesus freaks' more than once and although the context wasn't clear, James was sure that no good would come out of whatever they were conspiring to do. He fell back to sleep until his alarm went off and his mother knocked on his door to tell him it was time to get dressed for school.

James felt a weird sense of safety at school without the unpleasant sounds of constant arguing at home. He actually appreciated the rules of discipline that all students had to follow, but of course, he would never admit that there was anything positive about spending his day in classes.

Slug was waiting for him by their lockers when James said, "I think Slice and dad are planning something."

"What do you mean?"

"I overheard them talking last night. I couldn't hear everything they said, but it had to do with those people who are involved in that fundraiser. They were laughing; drunk as usual, but I don't think they were just joking around. I have a feeling they're going after the people who are running the thing."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because, Slug, I know by dad and Slice," James was irritated, "I just know I heard Jesus freaks and fire in the same sentence a few times. Why those people couldn't just keep their stupid ideas to themselves is beyond me. Don't they know that's like a switch that turns on crazy people like my dad to get all angry and everything?"

"Well, the fundraiser is tomorrow night. How could they plan something that fast?"

James didn't respond. He grabbed his books from his locker and headed to his first class with Slug by his side, accepting the silence as a sign that his friend was in deep thought; hopefully, with a plan of his own to stay out of it.

Surprisingly, even with his dysfunctional home life, James did well in school. He did just okay in his English class, but his math, science and computer skills greatly excelled. His math teacher often left equations on the board at the end of the class in the hopes that James would stop in during the day to complete it. The teacher had discovered James' gift almost immediately, but he kept it to himself with the understanding that James had his reasons for not revealing his inner talents.

Sometimes after school James and Slug would stick around the school campus to watch football practice on the bleachers for several hours just to avoid going home to the uncertainty that, in particular, James would likely face.

By that time, after a successful day in classes, the boys were in a lively mood as they sped down the hall in spirited play toward the cafeteria. They swung open the door racing toward the machines. James didn't see Maggie carrying a tray of miniature cheesecakes that she intended to store in the refrigerator for the next day's fundraiser.

"Whoa!" he said as he knocked into her barely giving her enough time to lay the tray on a lunch table before she fell to the floor.

Maggie's first thought was to look up to make sure the cheesecakes landed safely and then she reached up her hand to James, "Well, are you going to help me up or not!"

"Uh, oh, sorry," James said holding out his hand to her while Slug stood by astonished at what had just happened.

Once on her feet, Maggie brushed herself off. She stood waiting for some kind of comment from the boys, but they were still in shock unable to move. James had never seen Maggie up close before and he her beauty about locked him into a frozen stupor. Her long auburn hair glowed with scarlet highlights and her green eyes pierced through thick lashes. She had pulled a part of her hair up over one ear with a sparkling green comb so that the creamy smoothness of her long neck shown through.

"Well, it might be a good idea if you boys slowed down a bit," she said picking up the tray.

James immediately took the tray, "Please, let me carry it for you. I'm sorry I knocked you down. I guess we were a little too rambunctious, huh?"

Maggie looked the boys up and down, noting their rather unconventional style, "It goes over there in the frig. What are your names?"

Slug was the first to reply, "Slug, I mean, Ralph. That's my name. I'm Ralph."

Maggie smiled at the flustered boys, "And you?" she asked looking up at James who was considerably taller than she was."

"Are you alright?" James asked, "I'm really sorry. Oh, I'm James," he said trying desperately to appear older.

"I'm fine," she said watching James put the tray inside the refrigerator, "If you guys have a minute, I have more of these that my mom dropped off. They're on the table by the entrance. If you wouldn't mind helping me put them away, I'll let each of you have one."

That was enough for Slug to answer without hesitation, "Absolutely, Ma'am."

Maggie laughed out loud, "It's Maggie. What are you guys still doing here anyway?"

"Oh, we like to watch practice," James said, "We were just about to get some snacks before we went outside."

"I don't want you to be late. Practice will be over soon. If you need to get going, I understand."

"It's not a problem. It's the least I, uh, we could do," James replied.

So, the boys spent another half hour of pure euphoria listening to her voice and watching the graceful movements of this saintly beauty. It was all they could do to keep their delight in check.

On their way home, James remembered that Maggie was one of his brother's potential targets, "This is not good." He said to Slug.

"What's not good?"

"You saw her. She's amazing. Jesus freak or not, that girl is a goddess."

"Yeah, I'll give you that, but what's not good?"

"Slice. He's what's not good. I don't know what he and my dad are up to, but whatever it is, we've got to stop it."

Slug wiped his hand over his forehead, "Aww no. Just when I thought we could stay out of it. I just know we're gunna do something I regret."

James wanted the support of his friend, but he also realized that as much as Slug appeared to be a fighter, he was more the type to avoid it than to join it, "Look. I don't expect you to get involved if you don't want to. It not your battle, but I've got to figure out what they're up to and I'm not going to let them hurt Maggie or any of her friends for that matter."

"Oh, shit, alright," Slug gave in, "I'm your best bud. Whatever you do, we do together."

With a proud smile, James looked down at Slug and squeezed an arm around his shoulder, "That-a-boy. I knew I could count on you. I don't know how, but I'll find out what's going on tonight and I'll call you later. No wait. I'll meet you at the arcade at seven-thirty. I'll come up with a counter attack and we'll work it out tonight."

Kathy Varnas greeted James when he got home, "Dinner's on the stove, dear. Phillip and your dad went out and I have to go back to the hospital to put in some overtime, but there's plenty of stew and if you want there's some donuts in the tin in the pantry. If you go to the arcade, try to be back by nine. I'll see you later, James."

With that, his mom kissed his forehead before going out the door. Normally, James would have been delighted that his dad and his brother were already gone, but the opportunity to tactfully quiz his brother was missed by his absence. Still, while he had the house to himself, he might find some answers by snooping in his brother's room which is where he headed even before he took time to eat.

The first place James checked was Slice's computer. There was a note beside it with the words 'Christmas Eve' with an address listed with the name McGregor written above it. The computer was in sleep mode, but James tapped the mouse to bring it back to life. The address appeared in a website called seek&find.com where the headline was IF YOU CAN'T FIND THEM HERE, THEY PROBABLY DON'T EXIST.

So, James concluded that whatever evil scheme had been calculated by his brother, there was still enough time to dismantle it. But he needed more details. Knowing his brother's foul character, the probability of it being nothing short of sinister was pretty high. James searched his brother's recent history on the internet. He was distressed by the number of sites his brother had visited dealing with fire. It wasn't news to James that his dad found pleasure in using fire as a tool of violence. The premise of one site in particular was teaching methods to commit arson without leaving evidence of the crime.

'Oh man,' James frantically thought as he jotted down the information that might be applicable to burning down a house. It was worse than he could have imagined, even for Slice.

The sound of a car pulling up in the driveway caused James to quickly leave his brother's room and sneak out the back door. He hoped it would take long enough for his brother to get inside for the computer to return to a black screen, but he couldn't wait to find out.

James left his home without eating, slipping through his neighbors' yards until he could get back to the sidewalk where he walked as inconspicuously as he could toward the arcade. It would be a few more minutes before Slug would arrive and so to calm his nerves, James stayed outside bouncing stones onto the small frozen stream behind the building.

When Slug arrived, James told him what he discovered, "He had Maggie's address, too, written on the same note."

"Do you actually think Slice would try to burn down Maggie's house?"

"I just don't know, man. My dad has a lot of connections to some atheist group. If they go to them, they could have all the resources they'd want. I've suspected Slice had something to do with the fire that started all this fundraiser stuff, but I didn't want to think he'd go that far, but if he did that, I wouldn't put it past him to go after Maggie's house, too."

"Bro, he sliced a guy's face. I wouldn't put anything past him or your dad."

"I know. I wish my dad had never gotten out of jail and I wish Slice would...well, I hate to say it, but he'd be better off dead. Nothing but evil comes from him."

"That's harsh, man. He's your brother."

James stiffened his body, "He's no brother of mine. We might share blood, but that's all we share. I hate him!"

"What are you going to do?"

"At least he isn't planning on anything tomorrow night. I guess I'll just have to keep my eyes and ears open."

"Are you going to warn Maggie?"

"Are you kidding me? All I'd need is for the cops to come around questioning them for something they hadn't done yet. And for sure, that's what would happen. With my dad's record and the gangs, they question my family all the time, anyway, and if they ever got the idea that I had something to do with warning the family, they'd probably kill me, literally."

"You can't just let it happen, man." Slug persisted.

"No. I can't, but I'm going to stop him myself," and he looked down at Slug straight in his eyes, "with your help."

"Oh boy, here we go again," Slug shivered his body and then stood firm again. He gave a fist bump to his friend, "It's you and me, bro. I'm gunna be a marine and you don't mess with the marines."

The two played only a few short games at the arcade to get their minds off their pending conflict and then went their separate ways.
CHAPTER 4

A light snow was falling when Rick arrived at the McGregor house with two large pizzas. He had been captivated by Maggie when he met her, but he was also somewhat apprehensive after learning about her strong religious beliefs. Rick was by no means anti-Christian. He believed in GOD, but like so many other Christian families, church attendance was pretty much limited to Easter and Christmas with an occasional baptism. His dad, who was raised Catholic, worked at the pizzeria during most scheduled Masses. Although his mom came from the Bible belt and was raised Baptist, she allowed church to fall to the wayside during Rick's terrible two's and for no special reason just never went back on a regular basis.

There were times in Rick's life that he had wished he felt closer to God. He remembered calling out to God when he raced to save his dog from the flames, 'God, God, please let her be okay,' but it was rare for God to enter his thoughts.

Yet, Rick was a compassionate young man. He always seemed to stay on higher ground when trouble came his way. The fact that he was a taller, athletically inclined person came in handy when he occasionally encountered the neighborhood gangs helping him to stay clear of them. It was his dream to become a lawyer someday and so he studied hard at school. At first, becoming a Big Brother with the Big Brother/Big Sister program was purely to add to his resume for college, but as time went on he grew close to his assigned little brother and a true civic responsibility became part of his character.

Since his early teens, Rick took on odd jobs after school to help pay for his education. He asked his mom to open a savings account for him so that he wouldn't be tempted to spend it on electronics or fancy athletic shoes like most of the kids his age. But he did break ranks once each year on Valentine's Day when he'd buy his mom a single red rose and a tiny box of chocolates.

In every way, Rick was mature and responsible. Of course, Maggie barely knew him and so it would take some time for her to realize that his appeal went beyond his charming good looks.

Susan greeted Rick at the door and led him to the kitchen, "It was so nice of you to bring the pizza," she said, "Maggie should be down in a minute. I think she's tidying up a bit in her room. Have a seat. I'll go check on her."

"Thanks, Ma'am," Rick replied realizing where Maggie got her good looks.

It didn't take long for the pizza's aroma to lure Nelson down from his room. His eyes widened with delight as he reached for one of the slices, "Mmm, mmm good," then he double checked with his mom, "It's okay if I start, right?"

But before Susan could answer, Rick reached his hand over to Nelson, "I'm Rick. Sure, help yourself. That's what I brought it for," then, he realized that he might have overstepped and asked Susan, "Sorry, ma'am, is it okay?"

She eased his concern with her gentle smile, "I don't think I could stop him. Clearly, I don't feed him enough. Look. He's ravenous!" Then she gently reminded her son to take only one slice for now, "...and leave some for the rest of us, okay?"

Within minutes, Maggie entered the kitchen and sat down. She had changed from the clothes she wore at school into sweat pants and a t-shirt with the words 'Jesus Lives' written across the front. She didn't strike Rick as someone who was a fanatic at school, but he didn't mind if she had strong convictions as long as she wasn't one of those crazies who would ultimately try to save him.

Mrs. McGregor did most of the talking while they ate; asking Rick how his family was coping with their losses, "Have you found a place, yet?"

She was relieved when he told her that they were still looking. It hadn't been easy keeping the surprise planned for Rick's family under wraps, but somehow he still hadn't heard about it. At least if he had, he made no mention of it.

When they were done eating, Maggie excused herself so that she and Rick could to go to her room to study. Rick took note of how her silky curls bounced with each step she took, but when they were half way up the stairs, Mrs. McGregor's voice brought his romantic visions to a halt, "Don't forget to keep the door wide open, you two."

Maggie pulled up a chair for Rick next to her desk, "I'm so glad you're good in economics," she said, "I think I'd absolutely flunk if you didn't come over to help me. Thanks again."

"Hey, no problem. It's my pleasure," he said with his most gentlemanly voice. He looked around her room filing away every poster or decoration in his mind so that he'd be able to dissect her personality later when he had more time to ponder such things. For now, all he said was, "Nice room," and he teased, "kind of girly."

"And I suppose your room at your house isn't masculine?"

"Uh, not at the moment," he smirked, "I'd say it's early American ash right now."

Maggie slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, "Dumb! I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how I'd forget."

"Hey, go easy on yourself," Rick grinned, "Your mind is on economics right now. Besides, you're right. My room was loaded with model cars and football banners."

Maggie's tone became more pensive, "All that gone. How awful. I'm really sorry all that happened to your family. Losing all those memories and, well, everything. It's got to be just awful."

"My stuff was just stuff, but my dad had worked so hard on that house. It was pretty old when we moved here, but he fixed up the kitchen like new and he and my cousin did a ton of work on both the inside and the outside for years. That's why he works so hard at the pizzeria now. He practically runs the place all by himself he puts in so many hours. But he loves it, too. He takes great pride in making pizzas and he's never let us down as a family, ever."

"You're very lucky to have such a good father," Maggie said thinking of how her own dad walked out years before.

For a couple of hours the two studied intensely. Rick's basic explanations allowed Maggie to understand principles of their homework far better than she had expected, "Boy, you make it seem so simple. No wonder you do so well. Thanks, I really do get it now. How did you get to be so smart?"

"You know, I have no idea where it comes from," he said a little amused, "I guess as much as I respect my dad's commitment and dedication, I've wanted something more for myself. I hope to study law, someday, and I know I need great grades to get a scholarship."

"Your parents must be doing a lot right," Maggie said, "Look at you. Besides, there's nothing wrong with working at a pizza place. It's sure better than standing in the unemployment line, don't you think?"

"I'll give you that. We've had some hard times in our family, but dad has always managed to work no matter what. We've never had to go on food stamps or anything."

Maggie smiled, visualizing Rick's family when they were presented with their new home and all the extras, including the funds to send Rick to college. She imagined the family's elation when they got the news. Realizing that she was busting as the seams to spill the beans, she quickly changed the subject.

"So, are you coming to your own fundraiser?"

"I'm not much for those kinds of things, but I figure since you all are doing this for my family, the least I can do is help out. That is, if you want me to."

"Absolutely! That would be great."

"By the way," Rick hesitated to ask, but he couldn't resist as he pointed to the printing on her t-shirt, "You aren't going to try to save me or anything, are you?"

At first, Maggie didn't understand, but when her mind clicked, she laughed out loud, "No, silly. I wouldn't do that. We're not that kind of church," her words stumbled, "I mean, people do get saved in our church, but we never pressure anyone to turn their lives over to Christ. It's a very personal choice and every person has their own way of doing it. Or, I should say, each person has their own way of expressing it."

Rick's embarrassment was obvious in his expression, "To tell the truth, I don't even know what being saved means. What is it anyway?"

"Well, it's kind of difficult to explain. Some people are saved in the quiet of their lives in ways completely unexpected. It can be like a light goes off in their head or something. For other people, they appreciate the comfort and guidance offered by the church and so it's a more deliberately planned decision versus a kind of revelation within themselves. Bottom line, people are changed. They give themselves to GOD and try their best to be obedient to HIM. Make sense?"

Rick wasn't sure if Maggie's answer was more than he wanted to hear, but he continued anyway, "Sort of. Uh, no. Not really. Well, I sort of get the idea that people believe in God and the bible and stuff, but that change you're talking about...Sorry, I can't relate."

Maggie put her hand on Rick's arm, "It's not something to be afraid of. Most people don't even realize it when they start believing. It's just suddenly there. Over time, things happen in our lives that change us. It's not like someone comes and drags us to a prison of ideas."

"Were you saved?"

"Ah," she sighed, "I've been a believer my whole life. My mom brought my brother and me to church ever since we were little kids. I've never known anything else. I do believe strongly, but my mom, now there's a woman who has faith. I have a lot of doubts sometimes, but not mom. No matter what happens, she says, 'it's God's will. Everything will be fine"

"Wow, I sure would like to feel that kind of confidence in life. I'm afraid I'm pretty skeptical. Maybe I've just seen too much of," he made a funny, creepy face, "the DARK SIDE to ever just trust that things will be okay. Look at what happened to us. I mean, I had high hopes for the future. I plan to go to college and all, but I just don't know after all this. I don't know how my folks will manage. I know I'll need a scholarship if I..." he paused, "When I go to college, but heck, we graduate this year and everything just crashed around all around us in one night. I'm just not as confident as I was that everything will work out, you know?"

"Mom believes that even when really bad things happen, there's a good reason behind it that maybe only God can see at the time. Maybe something good will come out of what happened to your family?"

Rick grinned, "I guess it's possible, but it sure doesn't feel too promising right now. Heck, we can't even find a permanent place to live."

"But think how lucky you are to have your grandparent's home to live in until you find a place."

"Do you see the bright side of everything?" Rick teased.

"Pretty much," Maggie said as she stood up, "but I think we'll have to call it a night, though. It's getting late and I do have to get my beauty sleep."

"Yeah, right, like you need beauty sleep" Rick teased, but he had one more question as they walked down the stairs toward the front door, "Uh, Maggie, I expected to meet your dad when I came over. Is he working?"

Maggie lowered her head, "He might be working, but not in this town. We haven't seen him in ages. He left right after Nelson's birthday a few years ago and we haven't seen him since. That's another reason why Nelson is so freaked about his birthday."

"Whoa, sorry. That's a bummer."

"Don't be. We do just fine without him. Nelson misses him more than anyone, I guess, but even he does alright. I think he feels he should be the man of the house, but it's too much for him. I think he uses his issues with his birthday to avoid what he perceives to be his responsibilities, but no one expects it of him. He just has to learn to be his own person and it isn't too easy for him, sometimes, without a dad's guidance."

"That's a lot for a kid, but he seems okay. Maybe I can take him to a game or something sometime."

"Aren't you already a Big Brother?"

"How'd you know that?"

Maggie almost slipped letting Rick know the information that was learned through the coach's friend Tabitha, but she caught herself, "Oh, I heard it somewhere, I'm not really sure."

"Well, yeah, I am, but I can still find time to take Nelson out sometime if it's okay with your mom. I'd like to take you out sometime, too," He cautiously added, "If that's okay with you."

"It might be," Maggie said. She didn't feel she knew Rick quite well enough to give a firm answer; yet. Still, she couldn't help but notice the flutter coming from deep inside her, "We'll see."

"So," Rick said as he opened the door to the front porch, "I'll see you Monday."

"Wait!" Maggie said, "I have something that might help you to understand more. About God, I mean. Do you want me to get it? Can you wait just a minute?"

"Sure," he said wondering what it could possibly be.

Maggie ran back inside to her room and pulled a small poster off her wall. She was sure he hadn't even noticed it, but she believed it might explain to Rick how her faith in God was sustained.

She came back and handed the poster to Rick, "Here. Don't worry. I have another copy I can put up in my room. I think you might like it. I'm not really sure who this guy is, but his words make a lot of sense to me and they help a lot when I'm feeling down."

"Thanks, Maggie. I enjoyed, uh, studying with you. I mean, uh, it was nice spending time with you, too."

"Thanks, Rick. I'm really glad you came over. You helped me a lot," and Rick got in his car and drove away.

When he got back to his grandparents apartment, Rick sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and read the poster Maggie had given to him. It had been decorated with a border of butterflies reading:

'Do not look forward in fear to the changes in life; rather look to them with full hope as they arise. God who's very own you are will lead you safely through all things; and when you cannot stand it, you will be carried in God's arms. Do not fear what may happen tomorrow; the same everlasting God will either shield you from suffering or will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.' St. Francis DeSales

The words took Rick by surprise. He hadn't expected to be so moved. He read the poster over and over again until he finally folded it and tucked it away inside his wallet not yet aware of its future importance.

CHAPTER 5

Nelson pulled the heavily loaded dolly toward the gym, careful not to run into anything that might knock off one of the boxes of baked goods he carried. The fundraiser drew far more participants than expected and there were people everywhere setting up tables of food or auction prizes.

He was just about to go through the wide open entrance when a rather menacing looking student stopped him by sticking out his leg in front of the dolly. He was accompanied by the same small group of boys who had been relentlessly teasing Nelson since his birthday, telling him that he was stupid for wearing the silver bullet around his neck because it was fake silver, anyway, and had no power.

"Hey, dork," the overweight leader said to Nelson, poking him in the chest "Let's see what you've got here," the fat boy lifted the lid of one of the boxes, "Yum, chocolate chip cookies. I think I'll take this box."

"No you won't," Nelson fought back, "These are for the fundraiser!"

Conveniently for Nelson's tormentors, most teachers had either gone home for the day or were in their classrooms preparing assignments. The bustle of activity around Nelson mostly consisted of other students or volunteers for the event who were concentrating on getting to their designated areas for set up. But that didn't stop Nelson from standing on firm ground.

"Leave me alone!" he said defiantly while his heart pounded with apprehension.

All four of the aggressors surrounded Nelson's dolly, "And you think YOU are going to stop us?" Cowards that they were, they glanced around the hallways to make sure no one was paying attention to them. Sure that their way was clear, they continued to intimidate Nelson with taunting messages, "I suppose you actually think that a runt like you had even the tiniest chance against us. Those cookies look mighty good and it sure seems like you should share them," and the fat boy scanned the viscous faces of his friends, "We'd be happy to take them off your hands, wouldn't we?"

But Nelson stood his ground the best he could, "No way, you jerks. Leave me alone or I'll scream so loud that someone's got to hear me and they'll catch you guys. Just go away."

A taller, thin boy who wore a denim jacket and a bandana tied around his forehead to tame his long hair growled, "Ain't nobody gunna help you, kid. I think you'd better hand over a box of those cookies right now."

Hidden in the dim lights of one of the hallways, a deep voice sounded almost like an echo causing Nelson's oppressors to stand at attention. They didn't recognize the person who called out to them, "Oh, I think someone might help him. Seems to me you guys must be pretty weak with four scumbags against one kid."

James, who towered over the four boys, moved out of the shadows and appeared with Slug by his side, "At least it'll be a fair fight," then he chuckled as he turned to his muscled friend, "Well, it might not be all that fair with us against your flab. One shove and you'll roll over like a beach ball, crying like the fraidy-cats you really are."

The fat boy stared angrily at James, but he realized that he wouldn't stand a chance against the older, noticeably more fit duo so the four boys huffed and puffed and reluctantly backed away, grumbling to themselves as they left the school.

"Thanks, man." Nelson said, still shaken from the encounter, "My sister would have killed me if they took any of this."

"Isn't your sister Maggie?" James asked.

"Yeah, you know her?"

"Not really," James smiled at Slug, "but we ran into her the other day."

"Well, thanks again. I've got to get these inside," and Nelson started to go through the doorway, but James reached out his arm to stop the dolly.

"Hey, we'll help you," James said delighted that he'd have an excuse to see Maggie again.

Nelson wasn't sure that he trusted the tall boy, but considering the teen just saved him from disaster, he said, "okay. Thanks."

"Oh, let me introduce myself," James bowed in jest swinging his arm around and across his chest, "I'm James and this here is Slug." Then, he stood straight again and put his hand on Nelson's shoulder as the three boys headed into the cafeteria, "I think we're a grade ahead of you."

Shyly, Nelson acknowledged that he had recognized James sitting with the upperclassmen at a recent assembly. In truth, he recognized Slug because of his, well, slug-like appearance, but Nelson didn't want to admit to that.

Maggie was busy working with her mom and several church members spreading out a myriad of jewelry pieces across a black, velvet covered table for the auction. She saw her brother and directed him to the area where the baked goods should be dropped off.

"Did you get the cheesecakes from the frig?" she asked her brother then she recognized James and Slug, "Hey, good to see you. Did you come to help?"

Nelson answered before James could respond. Lifting the lids of several boxes, he pointed to the miniature treats, "Yep, they're right here and the chocolate chip cookies are right here. Can I go now?"

He didn't want to mention that he almost lost some of the goods to the same nasty classmates who had been taunting him, but James blew his cover. All he wanted was to get out of the cafeteria where he would surely be put to more work, but James couldn't leave well enough alone.

"Your kid brother almost got pounded by some idiot punks out there in the hallway."

"Oh, no," Maggie said, "Not them again. Nelson, are you alright?"

Nelson hung his head, but he didn't want to appear too weak, "Come on, Sis, I could have handled them."

James felt empathy for Nelson. Even with his desire to impress Maggie, he felt a need to protect her younger brother. From his own childhood, he understood what it was like to be the underdog.

"Hey, he was just ready to really give it to those jerks, but I saw the food he was carrying," He tried to be funny, "and, well, Slug and me didn't want it to go to waste on those idiots so we thought we'd give him a hand."

"Well, that's so nice of you boys," Maggie said, "So, are you here to help?"

"Uh, We were just hanging out," James said, "but if you need us..."

"Absolutely. We could use some help with cleaning up all these boxes and wrappings if you could stack them up over there so we'll have them when we pack up again later."

Slug rolled his eyes because he had actually hoped they'd be just hanging out and maybe sneaking a cupcake or two to take over to the arcade. Nelson wasn't thrilled with the idea of staying to help either, but after what had just happened, he decided he'd rather stay close to the boys who had rescued him a little longer. James patted Slug's shoulder and coaxed him to follow. It was clear that James had decided to take Nelson under his wing because he laid his other hand on Nelson's back, directing them to the chores Maggie suggested. So, the three boys got busy clearing away the emptied boxes and then came back to offer their services in any way that might help.

It wasn't long before they boys were laughing and teasing one another like old friends. Slug was especially softened by Nelson's rather inept attempt at looking dangerous. He found it comical in an affectionate way and decided he would give credibility to the powers of the charm Nelson wore by telling him that if it weren't for the silver bullet glistening around his neck and catching their eye, they might not have been summoned to help.

A perceptive James added, "For sure. I saw it from way down the hall. It called to us... Warning. Warning. Danger awaits... and we knew we were needed for a grand purpose."

Even Nelson rolled his eyes at that one, but he appreciated James' effort to ease his embarrassment. Soon the place filled with customers. Because of the editorials in the Record and the mention of the event on the local news, people from all over the county and beyond appeared with their wallets filled with donations to the cause. After learning the connection between the McGregors and the church, a couple of local reporters were sent to the event, tasked with questions about the message from the church about the Three Gifts of Christmas and turning the holiday back over to Christ.

Pastor Agnes's reporter friend Dan approached Susan, "Mrs. McGregor, wasn't it you who started this whole thing?"

"Well, no. Actually, it was one of the girls on Coach Mills' cheerleading team. Our church was seeking opportunities to help the community during the holidays, but when my daughter, whose a member of the team, brought it up to them in casual conversation, Coach Mills decided to have her girls take part in our efforts. That's when one of the girls, Samantha, came up with helping the Fiore's."

The anchor asked Susan if she heard how some well-known community celebrities had contributed to the event causing the end total to surpass six figures, "and not only that," the reporter continued, "I hear tell that there's quite a few people of nominal means now planning to donate their time and money to this charity in lieu of purchasing gifts for their own families this Christmas. Just like your message indicated, they're limiting their own gifts to three to demonstrate that the primary reason for the season is Jesus Christ. What are your thoughts on that?"

"Well, first, I am so grateful for all the donations, of any size, we received tonight. It's been amazing to see the love flowing from the hearts of all these people. Because of their contributions, we will be able to help a lot more than the Fiore family. In fact, I just spoke to Pastor Agnes a few minutes ago and we've decided to set up a foundation called THE THREE GIFTS OF CHRISTMAS FOUNDATION to help needy families every year.

"What about the message, Mrs. McGregor? Do you think it will change how people celebrate Christmas from now on?"

"I'm not sure," she said, "I hope so. We've become a nation of materialism where the meaning of Christmas is based on how many gifts we put under our trees. Look around you at the generosity and kindness you see here. This is what Christmas is really about. Buying only three gifts at Christmas time is a mere symbol. I'm sure there are really good reasons why some people want to buy more for their kids, but it's not really about that. It's about replacing self-indulgence with generosity. It's about replacing our narrow vision of our own personal celebration with a much broader example of Christian behavior.

It's like when we pray or light a candle or sing a hymn in church. It's an act of acknowledgment of Christ. Whether one person buys three gifts, or one gift or a dozen gifts for another, it's about remembering that the reason we celebrate at all is the birth of our Lord and Savior."

"Well said, Mrs. McGregor, this was a fantastic event. When will you let the family know how much you collected for them?"

"Oh, we did a lot more than collect money for them. You should join us next Saturday when we'll be sharing our surprises with them. We told them that we'd be presenting them with a check during a formal announcement at the town square tree lighting, but we'll also be giving them much more. You should be there. It'll be wonderful."

"I will. In fact, I go to the lighting every year with my family."

"One more thing. I almost forgot." Susan McGregor pulled back his microphone to her lips, "One of our donors has put up a nine thousand dollar reward for anyone who has information to lead us to those horrible people who did this to the Fiore family. I certainly don't understand why some people can be so evil. I guess some people really need God in their lives. I think they should bow their heads in shame for what they've done and I hope this reward will lead to their capture."

"Indeed," said Dan McKinley, "That's a pretty big reward. Whose behind it?"

"Well, I can't really say, but it's a member of our church. I contributed what I could myself," she lowered her head, "although it wasn't much at all, but I gave something because as much as it's about getting this family back on their feet, it's also about getting such evil people off the streets of our town."

"Mrs. McGregor, thank you. I have to give you credit for both your generosity and your courage," and he shook Susan's hand before saying good-night.

On that very night's late broadcast, McKinley aired Susan's comments which brought about hundreds of phone calls with more people wanting to donate and emails indicating support for catching the villains once and for all who had been terrorizing their community. Unfortunately, it was also seen by the culprits as well.
CHAPTER 6

James spotted Nelson across the quad where the crowds were gathering for the tree lighting. The boy was just close enough for James to get his attention, "Psst. Nelson."

At first, Nelson couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, but after several attempts, he recognized Slug who was standing next to James on the steps of the public library. His mom and Maggie were both on the platform where the ceremony would take place and so he decided they wouldn't miss him if he joined the boys.

"What's up?" Nelson asked.

Slug greeted him with a light slap on the back, "Hey, what are you doing with those Church people. I mean, I know they helped with your fundraiser, but do you always hang out with them?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hey, I like your sister and all," James said, "She's pretty cool, but I thought she was a cheerleader."

"She is. She is the captain of the cheerleading squad."

"Aren't those other people part of that church that's making all the noise about not giving presents at Christmas?" James asked.

Nelson was nervous, but he didn't want to offend his new, clearly powerful friend, "Yeah, we go to that church, but I'm not real happy about that part. My mom is cutting back on our gifts, too, this year."

Slug put his arm around Nelson's shoulder, "Bummer. Sorry, kid. It's got'a be tough."

Feeling a little torn, Nelson wasn't sure if he should defend his family or not, "I have to go to church, but it isn't all that bad sometimes. I wish my mom wasn't so active in the church, I guess, but she treats us good. We just have to go to church on Sundays and she talks about God a lot. Don't you go to church?"

His question gave James a bit of a jolt. He hadn't given it much thought, but he never heard a good word about church goers in his home, "Nah, are you kidding me?

Why would anyone want to sit and listen to all that crap about Jesus every week?" He pushed his fist into Slug's arm and laughed, "Talk about torture, I think you'd have to be crazy to put up with that."

A naïve Nelson simply asked, "Why?"

There was astonishment in Slug's eyes as he rolled them back and forth between James and Nelson as if he were awaiting some fierce reaction, but James stood silent for a minute, looking down at the innocent boy.

"You know, little wolf-slayer," a name James tagged to Nelson on the spot remembering the mystical powers he and Slug jokingly gave to the boy's charm, "I actually don't know."

A sigh of relief blew out of Slug's mouth and was followed by uncomfortable chuckles as James continued, "Maybe you can tell me about church sometime. I'll bet you have some hilarious stories to tell." And they all laughed out loud.

Slug elbowed James as he directed his attention to a figure across the quad. It was Slice. Nelson looked toward the person, but didn't understand what caused the boys to suddenly, and without a word, leave the stairs to walk in a fast pace in the opposite direction.

At his age, Nelson didn't give much thought to the real dangers of life. His fears stemmed from the monsters he saw on TV and from the bullies at school. After a moment of perplexity, he simply decided to rejoin the crowd that stood before the ceremonial platform. He noticed how the families who were gathered there all seemed to include dads. He wondered what it would be like to have a dad who liked to spend time with him. 'Man' he thought, it must be so cool to have a dad take you to hockey games or to ride around on dirt bikes and stuff.'

But that thought slipped away as unnoticeably as it had come because his dad was long gone and it was likely he'd never see him again. Without understanding why exactly, emptiness twinged in his belly. The school chorus was singing holiday songs while people snuggled together dressed in winter coats and scarves to keep them warm.

There were a few TV cameras and reporters at the tree lighting, as well as a few visitors from other communities. With a tap on the microphone by Coach Mills, she welcomed Pastor Agnes to open the event with a prayer.

Rick and his parents sat beside Susan among the organizational leaders. Of course, they were elated when it was announced that not only would Rick and his parents have a new place to live, but a scholarship had been set up so that Rick could attend college. Speeches were given about the compassion of the community as it was revealed that twenty-six more families would share in the relief through the massive donations. With a reiteration of the horrendous event that brought them all together in the first place, the mayor announced that a voluntary watch group would be fully active by the first of the year.

Finally, Coach Mills flicked the switch that turned on the tree lights followed by a burst of song that could be heard for several miles around. Yet, in a darkened corner just a hundred yards or so from the event stood the cunning character, watching like a wild cat stalking its prey in the night, but no one detected Slice's ominous presence.

Still breathless from the good news, Rick asked Maggie if she'd like to go with him to see their new home, "How in the world did you keep this a secret?" he asked.

With a sly smile, she replied, "You have NO IDEA."

With permission from her mom, Rick drove Maggie and his parents back to the renovated machine shop where they were met by another smaller group of friends who had worked on the new house. Rick's grandparents had been in on the surprise and so photos that had been saved from the old house hung about in appropriate places, but Sugar and her puppies were given a temporary gated room of their own where they could safely waddle around to play. One of the workers had taken Sugar's original crate and covered it with a thick red plaid blanket where she could comfortably nurse her babies.

"Oh my Lord," Maggie said as they went inside, "This is beautiful."

There were no dry eyes anywhere. Rick's parents were hugging their friends while they pointed out all the amenities. It turned out to be a large space with a big kitchen and a stone fireplace in the living room. It had three bedrooms which left one for guests once the puppies were grown. None of the décor was lavish, but rather it was unassuming in its well-planned organization.

Rick led Maggie to discover his own new room, "Wow, look at this," he said, "Pretty fancy." The walls were painted in a neutral tone and his bed was covered with new masculine linens.

"It's really nice," Maggie agreed, "Look, they gave you a computer!"

"Awesome." Rick went around and touched everything as though he had never seen such crisp newness.

They sat down on the edge of the bed and Rick pulled out the small poster that Maggie had given to him just days before, "This thing you gave to me. It kind of threw me for a loop, but it's pretty powerful. Maybe there's something to this God stuff. Look around; look how things have come together when I thought we had lost too much to ever recover."

"Do not look in fear to the changes in life... I love that message," Maggie said.

"I guess there might be something to this religious stuff. I don't know, but I think someone was sure looking after us. Aww, it's confusing," he said, "With all this, it's hard to think that there wasn't some kind of intervention, but yet. Uh, Maggie, I just don't know. I'm just not convinced that it's not just coincidence. A great coincidence, for sure, and I'm so grateful, but God, that's a big thing. I mean a really, really big thing. It's hard for me to imagine something that mighty and powerful."

"Wow," Maggie said more as a statement than a question, "You've been doing a lot of soul searching, haven't you."

Rick lowered his head, almost embarrassed to admit that he had been contemplating God's existence, "Yeah, I have. Since I read your little poem thing, I started reading the Bible a little. I was surprised at how profound it was."

"How far did you get?" she asked.

"I'm not sure why, but I skipped over the whole Old Testament and started with the New Testament. I'm only up to Mark. I guess I can relate more to things that happened after Christ than before. I'm not sure why."

Maggie smiled, "I did that, too. I get all confused with who begat who and all those generations of people. Mom says a lot of the Old Testament was written in a way to relate to a people who really weren't advanced enough to understand the stories if they weren't exaggerated a little."

"But I was amazed when I started reading how much I could relate to the things I was reading. I already kind of knew a lot of the story of when Jesus was born, but all the other stuff surrounding what happened when He was born was pretty much new to me. I found it really interesting.

"Let me ask you something, Rick. When you were reading it, did you believe that what you were reading was true?"

Ricked looked a little stupefied at Maggie, "Huh, well, yeah. I guess I did."

"Do you wonder why? I mean, with all that being written so many hundreds of years ago, do you wonder why you believe it?"

"Funny. That's a strange question, but I guess the answer is even stranger. It was like it just set right with me. It made sense. I mean, there wasn't anything said that seemed like a con or anything. It was like if we acted the way it tells us to act, the world would be a lot better place."

"Are you going to keep on reading the Bible?"

"I suppose. I can't say when I'll get to it, but if I'm going to be a lawyer, I think I should be well read, don't you?"

Maggie laughed, "Well, that's one way to look at it. Anyway, I think the more you read, that feeling you got that it seemed to set well with you will only grow. I believe that God sees every single thing we do. I believe He is right here in our today every minute. When we do something kind to another person, we are doing something kind to God and when someone does what those guys did to your house, they do that to God, too, and will have to answer for it someday."

"Whoa," Rick said, "That would be cool. I sure hope so."

Remember those men in the mine that collapsed last year and how everyone thought they'd never be rescued. They sent a mike down to them and prayed with them every day. They're all alive today. Every one of them. Do think when things like that happen, it's just luck?"

She went on, "I believe that just as there are consequences for our bad behavior, God blesses us when we do what is right. I mean, we're really lucky because he blesses us when we screw up, too. Good thing because I screw up a lot."

"Well, I'm still on the fence between coincidence and divine intervention, but you've really given me a lot to think about, Maggie, and I have to say, I admire you for being so open about what you believe. There are a lot of people out there who have no tolerance for your way of thinking and you have to be pretty sure of yourself to stand up for those beliefs."

"Oh, I'm far from perfect, Rick. I have big doubts all the time, but somehow there's a part of me that just can't accept anything less than God. Even when I have doubts or if other kids make fun of me for my so-called prudish values, I really believe that God is on my side and I have to live the way I think He wants me to be the best I can. I think if you keep reading the Bible, your doubts will at least shrink a little," she gently teased.

"Maybe. I'm not sure, but look, I'm not closed minded about it and I'm willing to think about it some more," he smiled hoping that Maggie wouldn't be turned off by his doubts.

"Well, I'll accept that," she smiled back bashfully.

"So, Maggie, I'd like to spend some more time with you. I mean, I'd like to maybe go to a movie or something sometime."

"Sure, if my faith doesn't make you too nervous," she teased.

Rick's demeanor became more confident, "Not at all. I like that you have, uh, spirituality. Seriously, I'm not a player, Maggie. I just like you and I'd like to get to know you better."

"Don't forget you said you'd take Nelson out sometime."

"Oh man, I'll bet he would have liked see the puppies. I forgot about that. I should have invited him to come over, too."

"Ah, yes, I forgot about that, too. He would have gone bananas to see them, but that's okay. Maybe he can come see them before Christmas?"

"Sure. They're still too young to be adopted out, but do you think your mom would let him have one?"

"Oh my gosh, He'd love that. Mom just might let him take one because she feels so badly that our dad isn't around. It's especially hard on him."

"Well, let's not say anything to him. We'll bring him over to see them and see which one he takes to, but you never know what might happen and so I think I'd better not promise one to him until we know, A nothing happens to the pup and B your mom approves, don't you think?"

"I agree," Maggie quivered with excitement, "I can't wait to see his face."

"So, he's not such a pain in the butt after all, huh?" Rick teased.

"Nah, he's okay. He's my little brother even if he does some loony things sometimes. I noticed him hanging out with the two boys who helped me at the fundraiser the other night. They look a little creepy, but they seemed to be okay kids. I hope so anyway"

"Do you know their names?"

"One is called James. The other is Ralph, but James calls him Slug."

"ewww, what a name. I wonder how he got that one." Rick winced.

Maggie laughed, "I don't know, but he does look a little weird."

Rick seemed to remember something, "Wait a minute. You said James and Slug. I think I know those two. Well, I don't know them, but I know of them. I think James is the kid brother of a really bad dude in town."

"Who the heck is Slice?"

"You really don't want to know. He's one depraved individual. I don't know if his kid brother is as bad as him, but I'm not sure your brother should be hanging out with him."

"But he seemed so nice. Sure, he was a little strange, but he was very helpful at the fundraiser and he took a liking to Nelson and, trust me, not a lot of kids do. He even came to Nelson's rescue when some kids were bullying him."

"Well, I'm just saying, if he's who I think he is, his brother is downright dangerous. Let me do a little research on him, okay? I know a teacher I can ask about him. Just try to keep Nelson away from him until I get back to you, okay?"

Maggie was a bit taken back by Rick's authoritative position, but something told her to trust him, "Okay, I'll try, but I can't promise. He doesn't really listen to me all that much."

There was a somber look on Rick's face, "Maggie, just give me a couple of days. I'll speak to the teacher on Monday and I'll get in touch with you after classes, no later, I promise. Can you trust me on this, please?"

"Oh, alright, I'll do what I can, but don't you forget to see me before I get on the bus on Monday, okay?"

"You got it. Now, I've got to get you back home before your mother calls the police on me for kidnapping you," Rick reached his hand out to Maggie as he guided her back out to his car.

Later that night Maggie and Nelson helped their mom set up their own Christmas tree in front of the bay window in their living room. Maggie had quietly asked her mom about allowing Nelson to have one of Rick's puppies, but they decided to keep it under wraps until they were sure everything would work out. It likely would have to be given as an IOU on Christmas, anyway, because the puppies were only a couple of weeks old.

In an effort to covertly determine what Nelson's reaction would be to such a surprise, they questioned him while they strung the lights on the tree.

"So, little brother, Rick said I could bring you over to his new house to see the puppies next weekend if you want,"

"Don't call me little brother, Maggie. You know I hate that."

Maggie gave a look to her mom that indicated a slight panic that he didn't respond to the mention of the puppies, "Okay, okay," she said, "but what do you think about going to see the puppies?"

"What's the use?" he said, "I'll never be able to have one so why should I want to see them?"

"Not necessarily," his mom said, "I mean, you can't have one right now, today, but maybe someday."

"Yeah, right. I'd go there and get all attached and then find out I have to wait forever before you think I'm ready to have a dog. I know how you grownups think."

Susan's eyes softened and she put her arm around her son's waist, "Hey, you're thirteen, now. You're a young man. I think you're about ready to have a dog. Maybe after Christmas we can take a ride over to the shelter and see what they've got."

Almost immediately, Nelson perked up, "Are you serious, Mom? Can I really have a dog?"

"I don't want a pit bull or one of those Rottweiler dogs. Nothing too big, either, but as long as you promise to be responsible for it. That means feed it, pick up after it, make sure it's trained to go outside and all, well, if you're sure you can handle it, I think it would be okay."

Relieved to observe Nelson's excitement, Maggie interjected, "See, life isn't all that terrible since you turned thirteen," but she couldn't resist, "even if the year happens to be 2013 and you were born on Halloween."

But even her teasing couldn't deter Nelson from his moment of triumph, "Aww, you had to bring that up," Nelson moaned, "You'll be sorry when I have my very own dog and I train him to bite your As..."

"Careful," Susan cut in, "don't give me a reason to change my mind."

"I promise, Mom. Just tell her, pleaassee, to keep out of my face," and then he added, "I swear, Mom, I'll be the best dog person ever."

Before he went to bed that night, Nelson wrote a list of names he would call his new companion. He tried to picture what kind of dog it would be; what size, what color, male or female, which made choosing an appropriate name rather grueling, but nonetheless, he was determined to cover all the possible bases with catchy labels. He'd practice calling each one out to see how it sounded until exhaustion from the eventful day forced him to close his eyes.
CHAPTER 7

There were no more practices until after the holidays, but Slug and James still hung out on the bleachers in back of the school. Slug had been waiting for the opportune time to tell his friend some news.

"Jimmy, I've got to tell you something." Slug was the only one who ever called James by Jimmy. It always sounded special to James; like it was a name that only a BFF would have the honor of speaking.

"What's that, Slug?"

"You're not going to like it."

James didn't take his friend too seriously sometimes and so his reaction was detached, "Yeah, what, are you going to quit school or something? Are you taking off across country to timbuk2 or someplace?"

Ralph lowered his head, "Exactly," he said.

Startled, James replied, "What? What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not going to timbuk2, but I am leaving Tremont and I am leaving for Texas. My dad got transferred. We're moving. I know. It sucks. I just found out and we're moving this coming weekend."

"You've got to be kidding."

"I wish I were. My folks didn't want to tell me because they knew I'd be upset and so they held off until now. I think they would have kept it from me right up until we had to pack if they hadn't finally decided to at least give me time to say good-bye to my friends."

"Whoa, bummer! You weren't kidding when you said I wouldn't like it. Hey, you might be a little crazy, but you're my best friend, Slug. Heck, you're my only friend!"

"Man, I hate it, too. Trust me; I'd stay if I could. But I don't have a choice. If I were eighteen, I'd stay, but I can't."

James sat staring out over the field considering the bleakness of his future, but he decided he wanted to support his loyal friend, "Hey, we'll still be friends. We can Skype every day. Heck, I'll still get to see your freaky face, that is if you don't make a bunch of new friends and forget about me."

"Oh, man, NEVER! If it weren't for you, I never would have made it in this school," and then he thought about the scheme Slice was planning, "What are you going to do about your brother?

I won't be here to help you."

"Don't worry about it, Bro. I'll take care of him. I still don't even know exactly what he's up to, but I know he's up to something. Him and my dad both."

"So much for Christmas this year," Slug reminded himself, "We usually hang out together. I'll have to spend the whole day hanging around home. It's only two weeks away. Why couldn't they have waited just two darn weeks?"

James shrugged with a cynical smirk, "Like Christmas means anything at our house anyway. If you didn't talk about what goes on at your house, I'd never even know what day it was. I think my mom might wish she could have some kind of Christmas, but my dad and my brother hate everything about it."

"How is your mom doing, anyway?"

"Aww, she's okay. She just takes it. I don't know how they ever got together in the first place. I don't know why she's never left him. At least she works. It might be just a cleaning lady, but she would never steal or do any of the stuff Slice and dad do and I've never gone without food or anything. I wish she'd just leave. If she left, I might leave, too, but she won't. I don't know why."

"Well, maybe whatever Slice is planning, he'll decide not to do it and at least you won't have to worry about that."

"Oh, you don't know him like I do. He hates Christians. He says they really rub him the wrong way with their holier-than-thou talk. I don't know what I believe anymore. Maggie seems really nice and she doesn't go around trying to save anyone's soul. So, she does some nice things to help people. So what?

I guess I even thought they were all a bunch of crazies until I met her and hung out at that fundraiser thing. Even the vampire slayer seems like an okay kid."

Slug chuckled, "Yeah, little did he know he'd have a new name the rest of his life."

"Aww, he's not so bad. So he thinks he can ward off evil spirits with that stupid silver bullet he wears. I say give the kid a break. He's been pushed around enough already."

Slug stood up and prepared to say good-bye to his friend, "Well, they're expecting me at home. I'd better take off. I have to help with the stupid packing. I probably won't get a chance to see you again before we leave. I'll miss you, man."

The two boys slapped each other's shoulders so as not to appear too sentimental in some sort of farewell embrace, but a true, tight embrace was in their hearts. In their adolescent way, they truly loved each other and saying good-bye was more painful than either of them would ever admit.

That night James felt more alone than he ever remembered. His only best friend would be gone forever and he saw no path to anything good in his future. Looking up from his bed into the darkness of his room, life seemed to be nothing short of futile.

At the sound of his brother's voice, James abruptly sat up to listen. His dad and brother had just come home from somewhere and they were talking their plans.

"They'll all be sitt'n around watching those stupid movies on TV, probably all sentimental and all, they won't know what hit em." He heard Slice say with a grotesque satisfaction in his voice.

His dad grumbled with approval, "Boy, when those petrol bottles fly through their window with that Christmas tree right there, that house will go up faster than a cheetah chasing a gazelle. They won't stand a chance."

So, that's what they were up to, James thought. He remained silent, sitting on his bed desperately hoping they'd go back out before realizing he was home. Then, he heard his dad say, "Come on boy, grab a few beers and we'll go down to the garage where I'll show you just how talented your dear old dad is."

James knew what that meant. They were going to the garage where his dad worked; a third rate place where only desperate customers brought their cars to be repaired and, when they did, they were often either ripped off with inflated prices or by cheap, used parts that were often defective. It must be there that his dad and Slice would prepare the materials to make the fire bombs. James had hoped that if he was able to learn more about the plan that he could go to the authorities, but the information he discovered was no more concrete than what he had learned before. He knew that going to the police would only make matters worse because no one would be arrested unless the crime had already been committed. He wasn't exactly on the cop's favorite citizen list and so they probably wouldn't believe him anyway.

With Slug moving away, he was on his own. He had to think of some way to stop them. He wondered if his mom knew anything about it. In a way, he hoped she didn't because she would have no problem going to the police and if she did, man, oh man, would she ever suffer the consequences.

So James decided not to mention it to her or to anyone else. He'd just have to stake out the McGregor house all day and night on Christmas Eve to somehow, someway try and stop his dad and Slice from carrying out their evil plan. Even with his tough guy appearance and demeanor, James never had gone so far as to seek out weapons. He carried a knife, but he knew that wasn't enough to stop the two men.

He determined that the only way to keep his dad and Slice from firebombing the McGregor house was with a gun. James had never fired a gun before, but how hard could it be?

He began thinking of who he could contact. It had to be someone who would not only get him a gun, but it had to be someone who knew enough about them to pick one that couldn't fail. It wasn't James' intention to kill his dad or his brother, but he needed to be able to carry enough power to scare them off.

It was a horrible idea, doomed to disaster, but James couldn't see that far. His only thought was to have supreme authority over them for the moment, without thinking of the potential consequences even if he was able to temporarily ward them off.

There was this guy James had heard of who didn't really care much who bought one of his guns as long as the cash was ready. It wasn't like James had a credit card or anything, but he did look quite a bit older than he was. He soared over most of his classmates and his troublesome home life had taken its toll on his features. It wouldn't be hard for him to pass for years older than he was.

So, he sneaked into his mother's drawer after school one day when she was still at work. He found the gold cross she had tucked among her delicate lingerie and he took it to the man with the guns.

"Will this work?" James asked the man behind the counter after he barely showed James how to aim it.

The clerk seemed to feel that James wasn't all that confident in his purchase and likely he didn't know much about guns, "It's all I got for that price. It's a fine Baretta U22. Take it or leave it."

Scratching his grungy unshaven face, the clerk seemed to recognize James, "Hey, aren't you the Varnas kid?"

"No! Uh, I don't live around here. I'm just passing through."

The man could see through the totally transparent reply, but he continued with the transaction undaunted by the lie, "Look kid, I know this ain't your cross, but I'm willing to take it. Bottom line, this is all you'll get for it, though. It's not a bad deal."

Oddly, there was a strange look in the clerk's eyes. By no means was there a halo hovering over his head, but something about him seemed almost benign. Clearly, the exchange was more than questionable, but somehow there was more to it.

"Kid, did someone do you wrong?"

"Absolutely not. I just want it for protection," James stumbled, "Uh, you know, just in case."

"Okay, man. Just asking. That's not a toy, you know. Remember one thing; if you're going to use it, don't leave um standing."

James was frustrated that he had no idea how to use a gun, but it was his only option and so he accepted the gun for his mother's fourteen karat gold cross and chain. He took the gun home and hid it in his room where he was sure no one would find it.

It was several days after that James's mother mentioned the cross out loud to herself in the kitchen while James was eating his soup, "I wonder where that cross went." She turned her eyes toward him without moving her face away from the stove, "It sure seems strange that it disappeared like that."

But James didn't flinch. He merely kissed his mom on the cheek before heading outside to wait for the school bus.
CHAPTER 8

It turned out that Susan, Maggie and Nelson all went over to the Fiore house to see the puppies that Saturday. Nelson had never seen puppies before that looked quite like the little russlepoodles. Most of them were monotone except for one that was brown all over his body except for a big spot on his butt that was a muddy white. Of course, that was the pup that grabbed Nelson's attention. The little guy licked him all over his face and then, with the deepest doggie affection, got so excited that his urine dripped on Nelson's pants before he could drop the pup back into the crate.

"Eww," Nelson laughed, "I think he likes me!"

Rick quickly pulled the soiled newspaper out of the crate and threw it away before replacing it with a clean edition, "Hey, Nelson. He doesn't do that for everyone," he chuckled, "You must be very special!"

Then, the three adults moved into the living room while Nelson remained behind to play with his new best friend. Maggie whispered to Rick, "At least he picked one that stands out from the others. You'll know which one to save for him." And Rick winked back at her just as his mom was coming in from the kitchen with a tray full of Christmas cookies.

"Would anyone like coffee?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," Susan replied.

"Yes, me too," both Rick and Maggie said, but Nelson was so preoccupied with the puppies in the other room that he didn't even hear the offer.

"I'm sorry my husband isn't here. We can't thank you enough for all you've done for us," Mrs. Fiore said to Susan.

"Dad's still at the pizza shop," Rick added, "He'll be there until after midnight, I'm sure, but I know he would have wanted to spend time with you. We're all so grateful to you."

"I have an idea," Susan said, "Why don't you all come over and spend Christmas Eve with us. It's just the three of us and it would be so much more like a holiday if you joined us."

"Well, I'll have to check with my husband to be sure, but I think it's a great idea. We would love that."

"It's settled then. You can plan on around six-thirty, but I'm pretty sure Rick and Maggie will see each other before then," Susan laughed.

Rick gently smiled at Maggie and motioned to her, "Come on, let's take a walk. The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day. Besides, I'm sure our moms would like to gossip about us in private."

"It might be sunny outside, Sir, but I happen to know it's pretty darn frigid out there," Maggie grinned, "It's a perfect day to prove that this girl can knock the wind out of you in a snowball fight!"

With that, the two teens grabbed their coats and went outside. They raced and ran, dancing in the snow like sprites in a magical winter wonderland until one snowball knocked Maggie to the ground and Rick held out his hand to rescue her.

"Sorry, are you okay?" he asked.

"Nothing hurt but my pride," she said, brushing the snow off her body as his grip lifted her back up into a standing position. There was a covered bus stop just down the street from Rick's new home and the two took shelter there to rest from the cold.

"So," he said, "Tell me more about your beliefs."

Testing him, she replied with a chuckle, "About my faith or my entire social, economic view of life."

"About your faith, Maggie," he said more seriously. "I want to understand how a person can look around at the gangs, with Mexican fighting the Italians and the Blacks fighting the Mexicans and still see hope. I mean, I don't get it. Sure, things worked out great for us, thanks to you and some really great people around here, but what about the rest of the world?

One of the reasons I want to become a lawyer is because I see so much injustice in the world. I see some really evil people getting away with murder while there are nice people like you who do okay, but not all of them are as lucky as you are. Heck, my cousin got herself pregnant and now she's on welfare because the baby's dad took off. I mean, we help her out some, but she lives in section eight housing and she hangs around with a bunch of other girls who just keep getting themselves knocked up with babies they can't afford and the cycle just goes on and on. What makes the difference between them and a decent girl like you?"

"Decent girls? Rick, those girls didn't get pregnant by themselves."

"Sorry, really, I didn't mean it that way. I get just as pissed off at the guys who make babies like it's no big deal just to get laid. But why don't the girls learn? Why do they keep sleeping with guys who just want one thing?"

"Hmm, sounds like you've given this a lot of thought. Well, for one thing, have you noticed what we're taught in school?"

"What, what are you talking about? I learn economics, history, advanced math, all that stuff. You know, reading, writing, arithmetic."

"But what about our sex ed? Are we ever taught to abstain from sex or are we just taught about what to do if we get pregnant?

They tell us we can get condoms in the nurses office without even telling our parents, but they don't teach us moral values. They don't teach us about the sanctity of a marriage between a man and a woman. They almost romanticize having kids out of wedlock."

"Hmm, I never noticed, but you're right. They never do talk about girls keeping their legs crossed and us guys keeping out pants zipped up," Rick tried to bring a little humor into the conversation.

"I'm serious, Rick. If it weren't for the teaching of the Bible, I might end up just like those girls. My dad left us, but my mom had all the 'talks' with us about waiting for love and marriage before taking the plunge into something that's way bigger than we could possibly understand at our age. I still can't understand all the consequences that she talks about, but I trust her and I trust Jesus and I know they both love me and want the best for me. Every day since I was old enough to read my mom and my church have guided me."

"Are you saying you're a ver...?"

Maggie interrupted, "Indeed, I am and, besides that, the Bible teaches us how to love and how not to judge other people. Sometimes our differences are so vast that it's hard not to make judgments about others. Not just in our social or political views, but in our customs and traditions. Sometimes, the things other cultures do are so strange to us that it would be easy to shun them, but we were taught to leave judgment up to God and let Him decide when we should stay away from this person or that."

"and how do you figure that out? Does God have an office or something so that you can say, 'Hey, I've got a problem. I know this guy who seems like a real jerk and I was wondering if you could let me know if he's worth my attention or not."

Maggie laughed, "Now, you might not be as far off as you think! He does have an office and we do talk to Him. It's called prayer. Okay, so it's not like He is just sitting there in some big chair and you're lying on a couch in his office, but He does listen to our concerns, each and every one of them; not matter how big or how small."

"and you get answers?"

"Not in the way you'd think, but the answers do eventually come. The thing is, we have to open our hearts to listen and, well, let me ask you this. Have you ever been asked to do something that just didn't set right with you or, maybe, you met someone who gave you a bad feeling in your gut. So, rather than jumping right into whatever it is, you give it some thought. You mull it over in your mind and, if you're really honest about listening to what your gut tells you, whatever you decide, you're probably doing the right thing."

"You mean my gut is where God lives?" Rick teased again.

Again, Maggie laughed, "Well, sort of. You see, even if you don't invoke God's name, He knows you're seeking help and he still listens and answers because each of us, whether we believe it or not, belongs to Him. He made us. He is our Father and he wants to help us to make better decisions and live a healthier, more fulfilling life. Granted, for a million reasons we create ourselves, we often don't listen to God, our gut, our instinct, and during those times, we usually face some unpleasant consequences sooner or later for that one action."

"Hey, kid, you make a little sense even to a knucklehead like me. I'm really glad I met you, Maggie. I think I might have a ways to go before I end up in church, but I'm open to it.....someday."

Maggie put her hand on his, "It's not always an easy path, Rick. Soul searching and facing one's own truth can be pretty darn difficult; I can speak from experience with my mom. She was so angry after my dad left that she scared me. She yelled at Nelson and me all the time and nothing we did was good enough. I thought we didn't just loose our dad, but we lost her, too. Oh, she had taught us basic Christian values since, like I said, we were old enough to read, but staying on course can be really tricky when something horrible happens in your life. It's real easy to say the heck with it and just let yourself go to whatever takes away the pain at the time.

But that only leads to more pain, not recovery. We used to go to a different church when my dad lived with us, but after he left, mom didn't want to be reminded of him and so she decided to find another church. That's when she met Pastor Agnes. They became good friends as well as pastor and parishioner and she was a big influence on Mom. We started going to her church when I was a little older, but I have to tell you, I felt the difference within a few weeks. One thing I learned is that not all churches are what we'd like to imagine they'd be. In some churches, it's all about politics and money. I didn't realize that there was a difference until we started going to this new church."

"That's got to be a ball buster. Here you're going to church to find all this good stuff you talk about only to discover that the evil lurks there, too."

"Yes, unfortunately, some churches have discovered the profit to be made and some of them have been very corrupted, but you know how I can tell when I'm being used or when someone or an organization or whatever you want to call it really cares?"

"Your gut," Rick guessed with the confidence of a student who just got an A on his exam.

"The same way when I was reading the Bible that I knew the Word was divine. It spoke the truth and it was good." Maggie smiled assuredly.

"Whew! This has been an intense conversation," Rick said as he stood up to walk back to the house with Maggie, "A lot to think about."

He put his arm around Maggie's shoulder, "You are a special lady, Miss Maggie. I hope you'll allow this humble servant to spend a lot more time with you," and he held up his hand in the position of giving an oath, "and I swear, I will NOT try to seduce you, trick you or lie to you. I will be your loyal friend, honest and true always, okay?"

With a big, blissful grin on her face, Maggie accepted, "And I will be your loyal friend, honest and true always."
CHAPTER 9

It was after nine when James got home from the arcade. Habit had brought him there, but it wasn't the same without Slug. He found himself questioning everything about his life, tormented by a feeling of complete isolation from the comforts of friendship. He played games as long as he could, but after the money he had taken from his mom's purse was gone, he merely hung out hoping that the noise from the arcade would deaden his anxiety. Finally, he built up enough courage to face the inevitability of his future and he decided to leave.

James hoped that his dad and his brother would be out for the night allowing at least some temporary relief from the tension that always saturated the atmosphere at home. Mrs. Varnas was waiting for him as soon as he opened the door.

"Do you have something you want to tell me, Son?" she asked.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I'll ask you again. Is there something you want to say?"

His mother was holding something behind her back. He never suspected what he was about to discover. Mrs. Varnas pulled her arm forward and showed her son the gun she had found in his room.

"I do your laundry every week, James. Did you think I wouldn't find this?"

A panicked James yelled, "Mom! Give it to me. Com'on, give it here!"

"No! I will NOT give it to you. Why do you put me through this?

I don't want to find you lying dead on the street and that's the only thing that will come of keeping this!"

"But Mom, I need it. I have to stop dad and Slice from something awful they're planning."

"Your dad! He would kill you himself if he knew you had this!"

James tried with all he had to keep calm and to explain to his mom that he had the gun for a good reason, "Mom, you don't understand. They're planning on doing something so horrible that I just can't let it happen. I have to stop them!"

Still keeping the gun tightly grasped in her hands, Mrs. Varnas sat down on the couch in the living room. She patted the seat beside her, "You sit down right now and you tell me what's going on."

When James didn't react, but stood from in front of her, she admonished him, "You SIT, James!" and she patted the seat again, "Now!"

Wishing his mom would have that same kind of fortitude when it came to his dad, he relinquished his power to her and he sat down. She faced him, but she tucked the gun behind her, "Now, you tell me what those two are planning."

Reluctantly, he told her the entire story from when he first heard them talking about Jesus freaks, to when he discovered the McGregor's address and the Christmas Eve date on the desk next to Slice's computer, to the conversation he overheard about the bottle bombs they would throw through the window near the Christmas tree in the McGregor home. Although his mom was stunned, there was also a look of acquiescence on her face, as if he expected nothing less from those two despairingly wicked people.

"Son, I know it's hard to believe, but when I met your father, he was so good to me. For months he treated me like a princess. He bought me things," she paused looking angry at herself, "I never asked where the money came from, but I knew we barely had enough to live on. Oh, he was so charming and he would always convince me that he was working on some business deal or another that was so close to being closed that I could count on being really rich someday. And I didn't question him. I trusted him and I loved him so much that I didn't dare risk losing him by not showing him that I had faith in him.

He never told me about his criminal past before I married him, but it wasn't long after I got pregnant with Phillip that I realized he was nothing more than a street punk. His bouts of anger became more and more frequent and when I had to take time with Phillip as a baby, your dad became more and more jealous of Phillip. As Phillip got older, I guess your father thought that if he turned Phillip into an image of himself, he'd take from me the boy I tried to raise as a good child. I wanted Phillip to grow to be a responsible man, but your dad took him under his wing and taught him how to cheat and steal. I lost them both."

His mom bent her head over with tears flowing down her cheeks, "I made so many mistakes, James, so many. But then you came along. You don't remember, but I used to take you to church when you were little."

James was flabbergasted, "You did?"

"Yes, son. I took you to Mass with me every Friday night while your dad and Phillip were out carousing. I even had you baptized, but I never told your father. I always got home before he did and he never knew."

"Mom, uh, oh, man oh man, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because your dad hated Christians. Church was his enemy. It told him that everything he was doing was wrong. The priest and all the members of the church were reminders of what he had become. He hated them more than anything and I was afraid if you knew, you'd slip someday and tell him. He would have thrown you out of the house and he probably would have beat you before he did it. He only kept me around to cook his meals and do his laundry and..."

"Don't say it, mom. The thought of him touching you like that. It makes me sick."

"Son, I can't let you throw your life away. There is still hope for you. I know it. Your teacher told me how you go back after class and finish the math equations on the chalk board. He said you are very smart and could go on to college if you wanted to."

"Aww, mom, you know that's not possible. How the heck could we ever afford college. That's never gunna happen and you know it, mom."

"That's not true, son. There are scholarships. There are ways boys like you can make it, but you can never give up trying. You have to believe, son. You have to study hard and concentrate on your education, not this foolishness about becoming some kind of super hero to stop this madness. I just won't have it, James. If you think there's a way you can stop them, you go to the police. You don't try to stop him yourself with a gun."

"Mom, you know I can't go to the police. I'd go there with what? A theory?

Besides the fact that I'm just a kid, as soon as they heard my last name, they'd either throw me out or throw me in jail. You know that, mom."

"We'll go together, son. I'll go with you. Father Joseph knows me. He'll vouch for us."

"Mom, even if they did believe us, they couldn't do anything without anything being done yet. It's not like they're going to stake out the place and wait for them. Cops don't do that, especially based on something that hasn't happened, yet."

Both of them sat there for a minute with a gut feeling of defeat. James tried one more time to get his mother to return the gun, "Mom, it's up to me. I have to do this."

"No you don't!" she insisted, "I'm keeping this gun and, trust me, where I hide it you won't find it. We'll think of something, son. We'll think of something. Now, go to your room and act normal. They won't be home for another couple of hours, but you know they'll be on something or another when they get here. Stay out of their way, James. Don't let them ever know what you discovered. You have to trust me, son. We won't let them hurt anybody."

With her next move, James was stunned more than he was with anything that had already happened during this unexpected encounter. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the gold cross.

"Mom! Uh, how did you..."

"Never mind, I know you used this to get the gun. I have resources you'll never know about, son. In spite of how it seems, James, I have people who care about me in this town, and they care about you, too. You are the reason I've stayed. You are everything to me. Next time you need to do something so drastic, you come to me, okay?"

"But, mom," James found himself admitting things he never wanted to face, "he hits you! The bastard hits you. Why do you let him?"

There was an anger inside his gut, but he felt shame, too, "And I never stopped him. I'm so sorry, Mom."

At this point, his mom stood up before him, "James, don't you ever try to stand up to your father. He is bigger and stronger than you are and it would do no good at all. I'm fine. I'm a strong woman. A few bruises won't stop me from looking after you. Besides, he doesn't hit me that often anymore and his slap isn't as powerful as he thinks it is. He barely bothers with me. I'm fine. I don't want you to have any kind of record for assault even if you think you're in the right. The best way you can help me, son, is to become the man I've dreamed you could be. Do you understand?"

Half-heartedly James conditionally conceded to his mother's command, "He just better not try to hurt you when I'm around anymore. I'm sick of that bastard."

"James, enough. Don't become like him. Be everything he isn't. Be a good citizen. Be who I know you can be, son. You promise?"

"I'll try, mom. I'll try. I love you, mom," and he embraced her tightly.

Mrs. Varnas had never before spoken to her son the way she did that night. It was probably the longest conversation they'd ever had, but it was also more significant than he could have ever imagined. Not only did he see an inner strength in his mom that threw him for a loop, but he never dreamed that she had taken him to church when he was young, never mind that she had him baptized. His mind wandered all through the night trying to sort out the confusion that bombarded him just hours before.
CHAPTER 10

"Hey, wolf slayer," Nelson heard a voice call out to him, "Where've you been?"

"I've been around," he said as he turned to see James standing next to his locker."

"So, what've you been up to? Have those scum bags been bothering you?"

"Sometimes, but not as much since you scared them away," Nelson smiled shyly.

"Yeah, they were chicken littles anyway. But if they ever mess with you again, you let me know, okay?"

Nelson looked around for Slug, "So, where's your friend?"

"Aww, he moved away. His dad got transferred or something in his job."

"Wow, that's a bummer. I'll bet you miss him, huh?"

James tried not to reveal his true emotions, "Nah, we weren't that close anyway," but he felt a heavy lump build up in his chest with his lie, "I thought you and me might hang out sometime," James couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth and he wasn't ready for Nelson's reply.

"Sure, I'd like that. I mean, if want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to?" James was digging himself deeper and deeper.

"Uh, I'm an under classman. Most guys your age don't hang out with kids like us."

"So, are you hanging out with someone else?" James asked realizing that he couldn't seem to stop himself. He looked around, "I don't see a lot of kids busting down doors to be your friend."

Instead of being offended, Nelson took James by surprise by agreeing with him, "I guess you're right. I'm not the most popular kid in town. To tell the truth, I don't have many friends."

"Looks to me like you don't have any, my boy."

Truth be told, James was carrying around such a heavy emptiness that he could barely stand it, but he was determined to conceal the pain in his heart, "So, I'll ask again. Do you want to hang out sometime?"

"Doing what?" Nelson asked, "when I saw you two at the fundraiser, you told me that you two hung out at the arcade. I'm not allowed to go there."

"So, what does a kid like you do for fun? You must occupy your time with something."

Nelson was happy that anyone at all would want to be his friend; especially someone like James, but he was bashful and wasn't accustomed to being very open with other kids. He didn't understand why this tall, rugged boy would have anything to do with him.

"Well," he said shyly, "I like to skate."

"Whoa, you're a hockey player! Fantastic!"

"Uh, not exactly. I'm a pretty good skater, but I like to do fancy things like spin around and stuff."

"You mean you're like one of those performing skaters you see on TV?"

"I wish, but when I go to the pond to practice, those boys usually bother me so much I just give up."

James eyes lit up, "Oh yeah, they do, do they. Well, let's just see what they do when you show up with me!"

Now, Nelson was beginning to show interest, "You'd go there with me?"

"Hey, wolf slayer, you just watch me. Those idiots won't be bothering you anymore."

"Wow, maybe we can go there tomorrow after school. I can't go today because I've got a big test tomorrow and I have to study."

"What's the test on?" James asked.

"Math. I hate math. I can study all night and I'll probably still flunk."

"Hey, I'm pretty good at math. Maybe I can help you."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Sure, will your mom mind if I come over to help you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah sure, kid. Ask her. If she says it's okay, I'm not doing anything else tonight."

"Awesome!" Nelson wrote down his telephone number, "Call me before you come, though. I'm gunna have to do some convincing with my mom because she doesn't know you and all."

"How bout I have my mom call your mom," an idea that just came to James realizing that his mother might not be home in which case his dad or brother might answer which could be disastrous, "I'm sure your mom will be okay with it after she talks to my mom,"

James continued, "Will your mom be home in about a half an hour? I can have my mom call her by four-thirty."

Susan was always home when the kids got off the bus and she Nelson was confident that she'd be available, "Yeah, she'll be there," but Nelson was intent on having his mom initiate the call, "Maybe she should call your mom?"

"No. It's better if my mom calls. She has some health problems," James insisted as he lied, "and sometimes she can't get to the phone when it rings right away. It's better that she calls when it's easy for her to get up and around."

"Okay, but have her call before six if you can. Sometimes, mom goes to visit Pastor Agnes after supper for a while."

"Hey, I remember her. She was at that fundraiser, too, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she and my mom are really close friends. They like to get together and talk about stupid stuff. Sometimes, they giggle for hours, it seems. It's ladies' stuff, I guess, but it's awful."

James smiled. He couldn't imagine his own mom having friends like that, but the idea was pleasing to him. Before his talk with her, he hadn't even realized that his mom had any friends, but he understood why she had to meet them in secret, away from his dad. He couldn't relate to Nelson's circumstances, but once again, he deceived his friend, "Oh, I know what you mean. Aren't mom's crazy when they get together with their girlfriends?"

Nelson chuckled and the two boys headed for their separate school buses which took them to their distinctly opposite worlds. One contained a family with rules, love and values. The other house was a mere wood structure where its inhabitants would hide from one another, always fearful, always so very lonely.
CHAPTER 11

"Hi Rick," Mrs. McGregor said, "Come on in. You can go on upstairs. Maggie has been doing much better since you started tutoring her in economics. You're a life saver," and as Rick headed up the stairs, she called out, "Remember, no closing the door."

Maggie was still skyping with Sam when Rick knocked on the outside of the open doorway, "Yeah, he's coming over to study with Nelson tonight. Oh, Rick's here, gotta go. Bye."

She turned to Rick, "I thought you were going to check James out?"

"I did. Mr. Lang said he's kind of the talk of the teacher's lounge."

"Oh, no. He's coming over to see Nelson in just a few minutes!"

"Take it easy. Mr. Lang said good things about him."

"He did?"

"Yeah, a lot of the teachers think he's really smart. He hasn't gotten into any trouble in school, Lang said. He's just a loner, I guess."

"Whew, I was so worried after you told me that you thought he came from a really bad family."

"Well, my suspicions were right on on that one. His dad has been in jail and his brother is a big time gang member."

"Oh my God! We can't let him come over here. Are you kidding?"

"Hey, hey, take it easy, Maggie. Mr. Lang said James is a really good kid. He said his mom is a very nice lady. He's met her a few times when she comes to open houses and stuff. I don't think, from what they say, he has much to do with his dad and his brother. Give the kid a break."

Maggie tried to soften her disposition, "Well, Nelson really seems to like him and God only knows that boy needs to make some friends, but I just don't want him to get mixed up with some hooligan or something."

Rick sat on the edge of the bed next to the computer desk, "I'm here, okay, and I'll keep my eyes open. I'll introduce myself to him when he gets here and I'll give him the evil eye, okay?"

An eased grin appeared on Maggie's face, "I guess if the two are going to hang out together, it's better that they do it here I suppose."

"Yeah, and once I meet him, I can give you my 'professional' opinion as to his character. Heck, you met him already, what was your impression?"

"He seemed like a nice kid. A little different, maybe, and he worked pretty hard at the fundraiser. I guess it should be alright," she said with a more settled tone.

"Right. Now, I think we have some studying to do."

Maggie rolled her eyes in reluctant acceptance, "Yes, I guess so."

It took the couple over an hour of concentrated dedication to their homework before they heard Nelson and James in Nelson's room. Rather than appear to be spying on the kids, Maggie decided to go to the kitchen and make a some hot dogs in crescent rolls to bring up to the boys to snack on.

"Hello!" she said softly at Nelson's door. "We thought you might like a little snack. Can we come in?"

Her brother and James were already involved in some mathematical equation and so he held up his hand in a stop position, "Just a sec," he answered and in a moment, he put down his pencil.

James recognized Rick, but he didn't know that Rick's family was the main recipient of the fundraiser. He figured if the guy was with Maggie, he couldn't be too bad, but truth be told, he was just a little jealous.

He hadn't eaten at home and there was a grumbling in his belly. Before Nelson could respond to his sister, James invited them in, "Hey, thanks. Sure, come on in."

Rick and Maggie looked at each other with a little surprise at the boy's outspokenness in someone else's home, but at the same time, it was reassuring to see James so comfortable with Nelson. So, Maggie and Rick set the tray of goodies down on the desk beside the two boys, and they took seats on Nelson's bed.

"Hey, haven't I seen you around Tremont?" Rick asked knowing full well he had.

"Yeah, I go there," James was stuffing one of the dogs he had dipped in mustard down his throat when he answered.

"You live around here?" the inquisition continued.

"Uh, I live over by the old body shop over on Shelton Road. You know where that is?"

Rick thought for a moment and then remembered the part of town James was talking about. It was a gang filled part of town; a place too dangerous for most to walk the streets at night. But he didn't want James to think he was judging him and so his reply was contained.

"Oh, sure. I've driven through there before."

"You have a car?" James asked.

"Yeah, well, it's a truck. I just got my license a few months ago and my dad got me an old F150. It's nothing fancy, but it runs pretty good."

Without arousing too much concern from James, Rick continued to ask some general questions in the hopes of getting a little more insight into his personality. He wanted to know about James' brother without really being obvious that he was trying to determine what kind of relationship they had.

"So, are you involved in any of the scout groups or sports teams?" Rick immediately thought his question was way off track and must have come across as pretty stupid.

"Uh, no, none of those," he said as he thought of Nelson's interest in skating, "but I play hockey." He knew the rules of the game, and he did know how to skate, but he had never played a game of hockey a day in his life. He was merely trying to impress Nelson after having offered to protect the boy from his tormentors at the pond.

"Hey, that's great. So do I. Sometimes I take my little brother skating with me."

"You have a brother?"

"Well, sort of. He's not my real brother. His name is Adam. I'm an only kid; myself, but I'm a Big Brother in the Big Brother program."

"What's that?"

"Hmm, it's kind of a mentoring thing. I take this kid to do things with me kind of like a dad would. He doesn't have a dad and older guys like me get matched up with kids, mostly from single mom households, and we do things together that a father and son, or a big brother and little brother might do together. We go to games and, like I said, I take him skating and stuff. Sometimes in the summer we go fishing."

All this was beyond anything James had ever dared to dream of in his own life. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have an older man actually sharing normal activities with him, giving him advice or teaching him how to play ball. Anything he learned, he learned on his own. Okay so sometimes, he'd break down and ask Mr. Lang a question about something related to school, but any sports or other stuff that a kid would learn from a dad, James developed by himself.

Knowing full well he was lying again, James said, "I don't have a brother, either," and Rick knew he was lying, too, but he didn't let on.

"Oh," Rick said, "That's too bad."

Maggie looked questioningly at Rick, now aware of James' not so upstanding brother, but Rick's eyes told her not to react. Instead, Rick said, "I know how it is, kid. Well, you guys get back to what you were doing. We've got more economics to go over ourselves. See ya later."

Later, Rick let Maggie know that when the time was right, he'd talk to James about his lies, but he didn't want to scare the kid away. Becoming Nelson's friend and hanging out with good people like the McGregors might be the best thing that ever happened to James and so Rick thought it best to ease into a relationship more slowly so that James might learn to trust him.

"Rick, do you really think it's safe for Nelson to hang around with James?"

"I think so. He just needs some guidance. Hey, they both like to skate. That's a good thing."

"Yeah, but Nelson likes performing. Hockey is a whole different thing."

"Hey, skating is skating. I think they could have some fun together. Maybe, we can drive them both to the pond during Christmas vacation."

"Speaking of Christmas, when you talk to James, Rick, see if you can find out what he thinks of Christmas. I mean, ask him if he's looking forward to it. Maybe he'll reveal something about his home life that way."

"That, Miss Maggie, is a great idea. I'll see if I can catch up with him after classes tomorrow. I've seen him hanging out on the bleachers with that friend of his before. Come to think of it, I haven't seen his friend lately, but anyway, maybe I'll see him after school."

So, the next day after his last class, Rick took a walk out by the bleachers to see if James might be there. Sure enough, James sat there alone watching some older boys toss a football.

"Hey, James. You like to watch them practice, too, huh? I wish I could play, but it's just not my thing." He did a little Michael Jackson slide on the step of the bleachers, "I'm better at the 'side slide' than the 'blind side', if you know what I mean."

Cautiously, James invited further conversation by answering Rick, "Yeah, I'm no good at it either, but I like to watch."

"Brrr, it's cold out here. Hey, where's your buddy? I haven't seen him in a while."

"He moved away. Did you know him?"

"Nah, I've seen you two together a few times when I was watching the practices, but I didn't know him."

James wasn't much for words, but at least he didn't leave and so Rick continued his efforts to warm up to the boy.

"Hey, James," Rick said after a lengthy and awkward silence, "Maggie and I like to skate, too. Maybe we could drive you and Nelson over to the pond sometime and we could all skate together. I've got a couple of sticks my parents gave to me when I was going through a hockey phase with some of my cousins a few years back," he chuckled, "I soon learned that I'd spend more time on my ass than on the skates, but it was fun."

James looked intently at Rick, wondering what to make of him, "I don't know," he said, maybe that would be okay."

Rick decided to be a little bolder, "Look, James, can I be honest with you?"

"Sure, why not," James thought to himself, 'here it comes.'

"I've got to tell you. When you made friends with Nelson, I was a little concerned."

"Why?" James asked not prepared for Rick's declaration.

"Well, James, I know you have a brother."

Embarrassed that he was caught in his lie, James became defensive, "Right. So what."

"James, I don't think you're like him. I know who he is. You're nothing like him. I know you've had some really bad breaks, but from what I know, you have never gotten into any kind of serious trouble."

Almost offended by Rick's use of the word serious, James abruptly defended himself, "Hey, I never caused no trouble to anyone."

"Except those kids who were bothering Nelson," Rick said with an understanding smile.

"I didn't hurt those guys. I just scared em. They were dirt bags anyway."

Rick did his best to be reassuring, "I hear you. They were scum."

James's eyes lit up just a little, "So, if you think that, what's your beef?"

"I have no beef with you, James. I just think it might be better if you were honest with Nelson and with Maggie. Mrs. McGregor opened her home to you. She didn't ask any questions. She didn't judge you. Don't you think that family deserves the truth from you?

If anyone thought you were like your brother, there's no way they would have invited you to study with Nelson. By the way, I've heard that you're pretty smart in school."

"What, you been talking to my teachers, too?"

"Mr. Lang is a friend. He got me to take Mr. Foster's economics class instead of taking political science. He's kind of been a mentor to me. My dad is great, but I want to go to college and Mr. Lang knows more about what I should do and he's been pushing for me. My dad would have loved to mentor me more, but he couldn't help me with math or economics and so I stayed after school a lot and got help from Mr. Lang. He told me how you sneak into his room after class and complete some of his equations."

The more Rick spoke, the more James lowered his level of mistrust. He put on a rather egotistical grin, "Yeah, I'm pretty good, aren't I."

"They say you border on genius, kid."

"No. Do they say that?"

"They'd tell you themselves if you lowered that big brick wall you've built around yourself. Half the teachers in school seem to know you and they think you're really, really smart."

"My mom told me that, too." He settled back with his arms folded.

"Do you get along with your mom?"

"Hell yeah, she's the best. She's always been there for me."

Rick could sense another lie, "Are you sure?"

"Okay, so she really has been there for me, but with my dad, well, she can't always show it so much, but she and I had a talk the other day and she told me she's been talking to my teachers, too. She said she wants me to go to college," He laughed sarcastically, "Huh, imagine that. Me going to college."

"So, why not?"

"Obviously, you don't know my brother as well as you think and my dad ain't no saint either."

"So, do they decide what you're going to do with your life?"

"What are you gunna do with your life, Mr. know-it-all?"

"Hey, I'm going to college and I plan on becoming a lawyer."

"Wow, big deal."

Rick was losing him, "It is a big deal. My folks make very little money and they just lost their whole house in a fire, but good people like the McGregors pulled through for us and, by golly, nothing will stop me from going to college. Even if I hadn't received the scholarship from the fundraiser, I'd still go. I'd find a way."

Totally shocked, James looked Rick straight in his eyes, "That was your house?"

"Yeah, it was. But even if we didn't get all the help we got, my parents would have done anything to make sure I got an education. Hell, I would have worked a dozen jobs to make it possible if I had to. It's that important. Anyway, I'm glad we did get the help, though, because that's how I met Maggie and that family is awesome. In fact, we're spending Christmas Eve with them."

James could still hear Rick; and his words were penetrating, but his mind was in chaos as he suddenly was reminded of what his brother was planning. Without thinking he blurted out, "Look man, I've got to tell you something."

A chaotic bewilderment clogged his brain as he desperately tried to sort out the web of information he had between what he absolutely knew and what he suspected. Saying too much or too little could mean the difference between life and death, James thought.

"Hey, my brother. You know Slice, uh, Phillip. He and my dad really hate Christians. I mean it's as though they blame them for everything wrong that ever happened in their lives. They don't just get annoyed when they show up somewhere and talk about God. They actually think it's some sort of conspiracy to turn the world against them. I mean, you've got to hear them when they're talking about it.

Once when my dad was watching a movie on TV and a reporter broke in to talk about how they caught the kids who painted graffiti on a Jewish church, he threw his bear bottle at the TV and broke it and then stomped out of the house to buy," James stuttered, "uh, uh or steal, a new one. He said if the kids had spay painted a house in our neighborhood, nothing would be done about it, but a church, oh boy, that's important enough to break into his movie. Man, was he ever furious."

"It's a synagogue," Rick said trying to remain calm.

"What?" James could barely hold still.

"It's not a Jewish church. It's a synagogue. They don't believe the same things Christians do," and without really understanding why, he went on to explain, "Christians and Jews both believe in God, but they don't think the messiah has come yet."

James couldn't grasp the idea that Rick was going on and on about religion when here he was trying to alert the guy to some real danger coming his way, "What the hell are you talking about? Who's the messiah? I don't know what that means. Are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, kid. Hey, I know your dad isn't the poster boy for religion, but so what?"

"Look, I'm gunna be straight with you. Now, pay attention. I wasn't sure back then, but I'm pretty sure now that my dad and my brother had something to do with what happened to your house. When Maggie and her mom joined up with that church to do that fundraiser thing for your family, they went off the deep end about how no one ever cares what happens in our neighborhood, but when the church gets involved, everybody listens."

Before James could continue, Rick interrupted, "Hey, kid. Your dad and your brother caused half the problems in your neighborhood. Slice hangs out with the Laisves. They call themselves killers for freedom and they're proud of it. And they expect everyone to shed tears when something bad happens in their neighborhood?"

James lowered his head, "Well, they don't see it that way. They think they're the protectors of the neighborhood and the outside world is only trying to take away things that belong to them. They say their way of life is at risk by Christians who want everything to be all nice. The girls on the street would have their income taken away if those church people took over."

"Oh, so that's it. Your brother wants to get it on with twelve year old girls and, man, it would be just terrible if someone with some values got in the way."

"Aww, come on, man. I know he's crazy, but you got to understand that's how he thinks. He doesn't care. Everything's twisted in his mind. Bad people are good and good people are bad. That's just the way he and my dad are. Ain't nothing you can do about it."

"Okay, you're right. He's a freak'n idiot. So, why are you telling me all this?"

"Because, man. I think Maggie's house is next."

"What!"

"He read in the paper about the fundraiser with the church and all and he got all freaked out."

Rick hesitated for a moment and then asked, "So, why did he burn our place anyway?"

"It wasn't about religion with you. I don't know. I think Slice followed your dad home one time after he tried to short change your dad. Your dad followed Slice outside and gave him his money back and took back the pizza because Slice wanted your dad to just give it to him even though he didn't pay more than a couple of dollars. After I heard about the story of your place catching fire, Slice was bragging about how he followed your dad home that night to see where he lived. I just put two and two together and, knowing my brother, well, it pretty much knew he did it. I could never prove it, but I knew."

"Wow," Rick said looking upward, "I could kill him myself."

"You might want to do that, and honestly, I might want to help you, man, but you can't go do something stupid when right now you need to figure out what do to about Maggie's house."

James finally managed to explain the horrible scheme his brother and dad were planning. He told Rick that he wouldn't be surprised if some of the Laisves were brought into play, but he had nothing to show for his suspicions other than a series of overheard conversations and his own experiences with his family.

At the end of the discussion, Rick told James, "Look, kid. We're not only going to stop him from doing this. We're going to put them away for a long, long time. I promise you. You stay clear of this, you got me? I know how to handle it, but you don't want to have any connection to them when this goes down, alright?"

"Hey, it's my family. I can't let you do it all yourself."

"James, listen to me. There was a cop who was involved in the investigation when our house got torched. He and I became pretty close because he's a Big Brother like I am. He'll listen to me. We can stop this, James, and we can take them off the streets for a long time, but you've got to promise me that you'll stay out of it. I don't want there to be any chance that you'll be tied in any way to their deeds. Please, trust me. You've got a shot, kid, of making something really good of yourself. The farther away from all this you stay, the better."

"I can't promise, Rick. I just can't. All my life I've had to put up with their crap. My mom has had nothing but pain in her life. I ain't gunna say that I'll go do something stupid, but I can't say that I won't try to stop them either."

Frustrated with James' determination, but understanding it at the same time, Rick surrendered just a little, "Ok fine, but if you do decide to pull off some super hero stuff, you come to me and let me in on it first, okay? Meanwhile, I'll keep you posted on what my cop friend says so you can be involved. Is it a deal?"

James shrugged his head, "Yeah, okay. As long as you don't forget about me and go solo. And I'll let you know if something comes up on my end."

"Promise? Especially if you hear anything from the Laisve."

James bumped fists with Rick, "Promise."
CHAPTER 12

Rick looked around at the chaos at the police station. He didn't see anyone he recognized, but there was a uniformed officer standing next to a desk topped with dozens of files and coffee maker brewing on the corner, "Excuse me, Can you tell me where I can find Detective Sanchez?"

The officer pointed to a glass enclosed office at the far end of the room where the detective seemed to be arguing with his commander. He had strong, dark features with his tightly curled hair trimmed around his ears. A shoulder holster was strapped to his body and his shirt sleeves were rolled up around his powerful arms.

Not quite sure if he should just wait outside or knock on the already opened door, Rick decided to take a chance by breaking in on their animated conversation.

"Uh, hum," he coughed while he tapped on the glass, "Hello."

The commander kept on lecturing Detective Sanchez about something, but after a moment, he stopped pointing his finger in the detective's face and acknowledged the boy abruptly, "What do you want?"

Before Rick could answer, Sanchez recognized him, "Hey, Rick, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, Do you have a minute?"

"Sure. Everything alright with your little brother?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, everything's fine with him."

Detective Sanchez excused himself from his commander's office and took Rick to the outer office and motioned him to sit in the chair beside his desk.

"You in trouble with your boss?" Rick asked.

"Aww, he's always got a stick up his ass. I don't let him bother me. So, what brings you here, Rick?"

Realizing when the narrative began that it would be a long one, Detective Sanchez got a cup of coffee for each of them while he listened intently to Rick. When the boy was done, the detective reached for a file from his desk drawer.

"See this? Pretty big, huh?

The whole file is on the Laisve gang, a small Lithuanian gang, but growing and they're known using arson to intimidate people. Varnas and his son are in here, too. I'm not surprised at what the kid told you. These gang members have been responsible for half the property damage on the churches around here for years. They seem to have a special loathing of anything has to do with religion. One of their leaders has ties to an anti-Christian group called Americans for Religious Justice. Sounds like a great group, right?

Well, they call churches hate groups and all Christians are racist, bigots. They think that 'their' rights are in jeopardy. It's all upside down with them. I don't think for a minute that they respect the Laisve. They just cuddle up to them so they'll do the dirty work for the organization. It gives the Laisve's a purpose in their sick minds"

"Man, I had no idea. I mean, I've heard of the gang, but I just didn't know that that's where their heads were at."

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Rick. Look here," The detective showed Rick a report with photos of members of the group throwing rocks. He pointed to a man lying on the ground, "You know what that is?

It's a pastor who had just come out of his church after doing a sermon about gang violence. There had been a number of gang rapes in that community for weeks and the pastor felt he had to talk about it from the pulpit. Look what it got him. One of the girls who had been raped was the pastor's daughter. It was their way of telling the pastor to back off. The guy was in the hospital for a month. He almost didn't make it."

"Did you catch the guys?"

"Finally, we did, but that was after two houses were burned to the ground in their efforts to intimidate the witnesses. Morality isn't on their check list, Rick. They don't have a conscience, some of them. There's no logic to their deeds. They just hate so darn much that they wouldn't know family values if it were branded to their foreheads. We've been able to reach a couple of the younger kids, but it hasn't been easy. You've got to get to them when they're still pretty young. That's what inspired me to join Big Brothers like you."

"Oh, man. So, what can you do to stop these guys?"

"Let me get together with a few of the guys and we'll come up with a plan. We can't arrest them just on that kid's word."

"By the way, he's nothing at all like them. James never joined any gang. He's just trying to survive. He was born into that family, but he's a good kid, really he is."

"That's good that you stick up for him. I've got to say, it can't have been easy for him to stay out of it. I'm sure it means a lot to him that he has a friend in you and maybe there's some hope for him if we can get those guys out of his life."

"So, if you can't arrest them, how will you stop them?"

"We can watch him. I know. I know. That seems like we're not doing anything at all. Trust me, we don't need an excuse to watch them. They're on our radar all the time, but with this, I think we can catch them when they least expect us to be there and I know guys who will work on their own time to do it if need be. They take racism to new levels. They hate a lot of the cops in our unit because they're Hispanic and I'm a black Hispanic. Whew, we get hit from all ends," He laughed, "They hate Hispanics cops because many of them are Catholic, and we know how they feel about that, but they hate those of us who are black Hispanics because, well, because we're black and, to boot, Christians. I happen to be a Baptist myself, but you know how it is. If you go to church, you're not on their top 100 favorite's list. It's a double whammy for me."

"Is it that bad?"

"Oh sure, but I do alright. Our unit has cleared a lot of the gangs off the streets," he sighed, "but those Laisves are a slippery bunch. This could just be a really good opportunity to finally get them, especially if Azuolas shows up. He's their leader. His name is Monty Azuolas, but they call him," the detective pointed to the word 'Pavojingy' on paper, "which means 'dangerous', but none of us can pronounce it and so he's known to us as Azuolas. He's really just a punk with no brain and an ego the size of Texas, but they fear him. If we put him away, it would be a lot easier to put a real cramp in the gang's style. There won't be a move they make that we don't see and, if they try something on Christmas Eve, we'll be there. You can count on it."

"Should I warn the family? My family will be spending Christmas Eve at their house."

"You know what. I think it might be better if we all talk together. I don't want cops to be spotted at their house because it might cause them to change their plans and we'd rather catch them in the act. Of course, before they can complete it. We have a much better chance of an arrest if there more facts versus circumstantial evidence. I'll get my partner to go over with me when we're in our civies and we'll talk to them tomorrow. We'll stop over at your house, too, and talk to your family. I think it'll be less worrisome for them if they know we're on top of it and if we're right there to answer any questions they might have. So don't say anything until then, okay?"

"Are you sure you'll be there by tomorrow? I don't want to risk their safety by them not knowing."

"I promise, Rick, we'll be there. Christmas Eve is in a week. We'll wind this up tight and get those jerks where they belong with bars on the doors instead of jingle bells, you know what I mean?

You can tell your parents I'll be over tomorrow night after I talk to the McGregors. Don't worry, Rick. You and your girlfriend," he smiled, "will have a nice, cozy Christmas Eve. We won't let those guys get too close. As soon as we see them with their paraphernalia even close to the house, we'll close in. We won't miss."

Rick shook the detective's hand, "Thanks Ron, uh, Detective. Thank you so much."

"It's Ron to you and you're welcome. Don't worry. We got this under control. You have my word."

Although Rick believed Detective Sanchez, he still wasn't looking forward to calling Maggie that evening without being open with her, but he knew that he couldn't offer the same kind of reassurances the police could offer during their face to face meeting and so he restrained his concerns inside.

"Hey, how ya doing?" he asked Maggie.

"Oh, I'm alright, but I could use your help studying for our final if you could come over after school tomorrow. I thought I was ready, but I'm not so sure after reading chapter nine."

"Yeah, that was a little tricky, but I can explain it. You'll do just fine."

"I tried to call you a little while ago, but your mom said you were out."

"Yeah, I had an errand to run. I stopped by to see Ron Sanchez, that detective who investigated our fire. Remember him?"

"Oh, yeah. Did he find out more information about who did it?"

"Actually, I went there to talk about Big Brothers. He's one, too, you know."

"Yes, I think you told me that. Are you two planning some grand adventure together with your little brothers?"

"Hmm, we might, but probably not until after Christmas."

"You're still coming over on Christmas Eve, right?"

"Absolutely. My folks are really looking forward to it, but I'll see you before that when I come over tomorrow."

"That means you're coming?"

"Of course," and Rick began to sing, "Just call out my name and you know wherever I am, I'll come run 'in."

"Hey," Maggie chuckled, "You're not on something are you?"

"No, my lady, I'm merely so charmed at the sound of your voice that I can't help but burst into song.

"You'd better quit while you're ahead, you knucklehead."

Rick realized that he was overcompensating for his nerves, but he maintained the illusion by continuing to sing, "Winter, spring, summer or fall, I'll be there whenever you call."

"Alright. Alright. Keep your day job," Maggie laughed out loud.

"Okay, Miss Maggie. I'm done. I'll see you around six tomorrow?"

"Six is good," she said, "and, Rick, thanks. You're awesome."

"I know." He teased, "nighty-night."

That night Rick tossed and turned, wondering what might be going on in the Varnas home. He liked James quite a bit and he worried for the boy. He agonized over the possibility that James wouldn't be able to restrain himself from taking matters into his own hands, but all he could do was hope that he got through to the boy.
CHAPTER 13

Lunch in the cafeteria was no longer just a break where the BFFs caught up on all the school gossip. Rick now shared the table with Maggie and Sam.

"Oh my gosh, like it's only three more days until Christmas. I'm so excited." Sam said as she cut through the lettuce in her salad.

Rick filled his mouth with a big bite he took from his double burger, "Yeah, and we don't have to come back until after New Year's. Is that all you're eat'in?"

"Like yeah, you don't think I'd fit into these jeans if I ate what you're eating, do you?"

Poking her hand at her friend's zipper, Maggie teased, "And maybe someday, you won't even need that pin to hold the zipper closed."

"Below the belt, girl," Sam replied then laughed at her own clever remark, "Oh, did I just say that?"

"So, is Santa going to be good to you this year, Sam?" Rick asked.

The girl twisted her long chestnut hair through her fingers, "Well, Santa, better known as Mom and Dad, just might bring me a new computer. My parents have made the same commitment Maggie's mom made at church, though, so I think if I get anything else at all, it'll be," and she chuckled again as revealed her best guess, "socks and underwear!"

"Hey, don't we all get them," he chuckled, "If I get anymore socks, I'll need more drawers in my dresser!"

"Rick's family is coming to our house on Christmas Eve," Maggie said looking to Rick for confirmation, "There will be strength in numbers."

The police had told the McGregors and the Fiores not to mention their strategy to anyone else and so Sam was in the dark about the anticipated trouble expected from James' dad and brother. Maggie found it difficult to comprehend how anyone could be so vile, but she wasn't unfamiliar with the prejudices toward people of faith and so she knew enough to take the possibilities of their actions seriously.

"Strength in numbers, uh, what's that about?" Sam asked.

"Uh, nothing," Rick answered, returning a smile to Maggie, "We're just excited about the big crowd we'll have to p.a.r.t.y."

"Well, it won't be like big bash or anything," Maggie corrected, "more like a gathering. We're having a really big turkey and a ton of other stuff and everyone will be sitting around yapping away like old people do. Let's see, it will be you, your mom and dad and your grandparents. Isn't your cousin coming, too?"

It was true that Rick's cousin Andre would be in attendance, but there would also be a cop posing as a relative who would keep an eye on things from the inside, "Indeed, he is," Rick exposed a proud smirk, "We have one large and wondrous family."

"Wondrous? I'm not so sure, but you should see his cousin, Sam." Maggie pointed out to her friend, "You'd like him. He's really cute."

"Andre cute? Come on. I wouldn't say he's cute. If you mean cute like a gorilla, maybe."

The sound of trays being dropped on the Formica table alerted the trio to James and Nelson appearance at the far end of the table, "What up dudes?" James asked.

"Hey James, I was beginning to wonder if you two would show up," Rick said.

James scooted his chair closer to Rick's and whispered, "Everything all set?"

Rolling his eyes toward Sam, Rick quietly tried to signal James not to mention anything in front of her, "It's fine, kid. Maggie knows. Both our families know. Maggie and I will talk to you after lunch."

Meanwhile, Nelson wasn't even aware of what was going on since he had been skating with James the evening the police came to talk to his mom and Maggie. He was busy eating his lunch and listening to his IPOD and didn't even notice the conversation between Rick and James.

So, after a few more minutes when it was time to start heading out to their next class, Maggie pretended to have forgotten something and she told Sam to go on without her, telling her that she and Rick would catch up in a minute. Nelson also took off, leaving James to drop off his food tray.

"So what's going on?" James asked.

"I talked to that cop friend I told you about," Rick said, "He's on top of it. A couple of them went over to talk to Maggie's mom and they came to my house after that. They have a plan. One of the cops will be inside with us because; remember I told you my family is spending Christmas Eve with her family? We're going to say that the cop is one of my other cousins."

"How can you still do that when you know what my brother is planning?"

"Don't worry. They'll be watching your brother; and any other member of the Laisves who might be involved."

"How'd you get them to do that? They never would have done that if it was me who went to the cops."

"Speaking of which," Maggie interrupted, "I talked to my mom and she'd like you and your mom to come over too."

Rick looked surprised, "Hey, that's perfect. You didn't tell me that."

"Sorry, I forgot, but I think they'd be better inside with us when whatever goes down goes down, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure," and Rick turned back to James, "Do you think your mom will come over with you?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Look, James, your brother won't be home, obviously, on Christmas Eve, so how will he and your dad even notice if she comes over? I'll pick you up myself."

"No!" the nervous teen replied, "If my dad ever thought my mom was coming over to your house, no offense Maggie, well, I don't know what he'd do. And if he ever saw YOU at our house, he'd kill you for sure."

"Will you at least ask your mom?" Maggie insisted, "You never know, maybe she'll come. I can have my mom call her to invite her personally."

"No way," James rebelled, "I'll talk to her, but nobody, but I mean nobody talks to her but me, got it?"

Rick conceded, "Okay. Okay, but you will ask her, right?

I'm telling you, kid, you'll both be okay with us. They'll be a whole unit around the house to protect us."

"Why is he doing this for you?" James asked.

"A. He's a good man," Rick opened his arms wide, "B. he's got a file on the Laisve gang this big and he's wanted to break them for years and, besides, Slice and your dad have pretty big files of their own."

"Are you sure they can pull this off, I mean, before the house burns down?"

"No more houses are going to burn, James," Rick spoke with confidence, "We've had just about enough of that in Tremont. It's about time these guys answered for the trouble they've been causing in this town for way too many years, don't you think?"

James clinched his teeth, but agreed to speak to his mom, making no promises, but still being apprehensive about James' independent ideas of heroism, Rick had the final word, "If she won't come, James, you try to come. Your mom should be safe at home. I understand how she might feel, but there's no reason you couldn't come over. I'd feel a lot better if you were within my eye's sight."

James gave it a lot of thought and by the time he got home at around seven-thirty, his mom was waiting for him in the kitchen, "You have dinner yet, James?" she asked while the aroma of warmed up stew came out of the microwave."

"Nah, Thanks. It smells awesome."

He sat silently blowing on the spoon until he finally spoke up about the whole plan with the police. He told her that he wanted her to go with him to the McGregors where he thought she'd be safe with so many cops around, but she started to ramble on about things as if her head was being filled with conflicting emotions.

"Your brother and your dad are over at the garage," she sighed, "Julio picked them up just over an hour ago and I don't expect they'll be back home until long after midnight." She lamented, "My, my, what did I do in life for God to punish me like this?"

A tear rolled down her cheek, "But I am blessed. You are such a good boy, James. God blessed me with you."

"I hate them!" James said, "and you should hate them, too."

"James honey, hate just breeds more hate. It never ends. Did I tell you that it was Father Joseph who got my necklace back? He went right over to that guy who sells the guns and, would you believe it, the man just gave it to him. He said he knew something was up when I showed up without it at Mass and I told him I thought you were in some kind of trouble. There's a whole network out there, son, of good people who watch out for us. When I found out where the cross had been, I knew what to look for in your room."

"Mom..."

"Son, I want you to go to your friend's house on Christmas Eve."

"With you, right?"

"It might be the only good Christmas we'll ever have, Son. I'll go with you."

"You will? You really will?"

"Yes, son," she said with the weight of her concerns becoming apparent, "I am too tired of this heartache to let it consume us anymore. I love Phillip and I love your father, even with everything they've done, I do love them; but it's time to end this. Better we be among good people when the police take them away. Maybe God will let us salvage just a bit of Christmas in spite of it all."

James wasn't very good at speaking from the heart, but it was obvious that his mom's ability to endure was weakening, "Mom, maybe God will give us our lives back. He's probably watching over you right now, thinking what a wonderful person you are," He wrapped his arms tightly around her, "I love you, Mom. I love you"

Not only did his mom's decision to spend Christmas with the McGregors take James by surprise, but he was also caught off guard by his own sudden desire to call Nelson with the good news. Excited about Christmas? It was nothing less than a miracle. He and Slug had been BFFs since he could remember and it had never occurred to James that Nelson would ever fill that lonely gap in his heart.

"Hey wolf-slayer, guess who's coming to your house on Christmas Eve."

"Uh, James, is that you?"

"Oh, yeah, it's me. Guess who's coming to your house on Christmas Eve," he repeated.

"I guess Rick and his family are coming. I don't know."

"No, kid." James said emphatically, "I'm coming. And guess what? My mom is coming, too."

It was as though Nelson was in a kind of daze, "Uh, you, James Varnas, the guy who hates Christmas is spending Christmas Eve with us?"

"Well, kind of, but maybe not. I mean, I might have changed my mind about Christmas being so crappy. I'm not sure. Anyway, aren't you glad I'm coming? We can hang out together."

Nelson began to perk up a little when he realized that this was no joke, "Hey, man, that's really cool. I was kind of dreading being surrounded by old people anyway. Hey, I've got a hockey game in the basement. I'm not real good at it because Maggie's the only one who ever plays with me and she hasn't played with me in ages. "

"They have one of those at the arcade. I can show you some cool plays I learned."

"Usually, we have to go to church at nine-thirty , but you'll probably have already gone home by then unless mom somehow convinced everyone to go. Gosh, I sure hope not," the thought of having to sit in church with a bunch of grown-ups made him cringe; but if James were to go, just maybe it wouldn't be so bad, "Do you think your mom would go to church with us later?"

"Church, huh. I'm not too sure about that, but let's not worry about that just now. Maybe you can get out of it. I'll think of something, kid. Don't worry about it."

"Hey, that's great. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, kid. One more day and we're done for a whole week."

Nelson was a little overwhelmed that James sounded so glad to spend a big holiday like Christmas Eve with him; never mind the fact that Mrs. Varnas was coming, too. He wasn't used to having friends over at all. It was amazing enough that James had befriended him and come over to help him with this school work. Heck, they even went skating together a couple of times; but being a real friend to someone as rough and rugged as James, well, it just didn't happen to kids like him. He wasn't insightful enough to understand James' true character and so he remained puzzled, but nonetheless he was ecstatic. He knocked on Maggie's door and asked if he could go in. She had been studying, but she put her books aside to hear her brother's concerns as he explained the call he received from James.

"He is?" a surprised Maggie said, "I was sure he'd find some excuse not to come. I'm amazed that his mom is coming too. That's super amazing."

"Do you think he really wants to spend time with me? I mean, I know he's been okay at school and he's talked to me a lot like he might actually like me , but this is Christmas. I mean, I'm shocked that he's coming over. He's hated Christmas. I guess what I'm trying to say is he's not exactly a laid back, traditional kind of guy. I don't think he ever wrote a letter to Santa or anything, you know what I mean?"

Maggie chuckled, "Brother Nelson, I'm a little surprised, too, but not because you're a dork or anything. Okay, so you're a little weird sometimes, but you're not a bad kid."

"I'm not?" Nelson looked around as if to check to see if he was still in the same universe as his sister.

"No, you're not." She continued, "Even though your math isn't great, you do really well in your other classes. You're smart and funny. I think if you gave them half a chance, a lot of kids would like to be your friend."

Maggie could barely believe her sudden sensitivity to her brother's feelings, but perhaps it was a sign that the recent revelations about Phillip Varnas and his dad; plus the whole big thing about the police coming on Christmas Eve, a fact still unknown to Nelson, forced Maggie to mature and to appreciate her brother's feelings more than before.

Of course, she always loved him, but the danger her family was facing brought out the protector in her and she had no desire to torment him with her usual teasing anymore. In fact, she became intensely aware of his better characteristics. She even noticed how handsome he really was with his strawberry blond hair and green eyes. Could it be that her brother, too, was finally shedding his youthful superstitions for this new friendship?

"...and besides that, Nelson, you are the absolute best skater I know your age. In fact, when mom went to watch you and James at the pond a few days ago, she mentioned getting you a real skating coach."

Nelson perked up, "Are you kidding me? No way."

"Yes, way," Maggie repeated, "She saw something about this guy on TV who works with families who can't really afford a professional coach, but he only takes on really, really talented kids. Mom thinks you are that talented and I think she called him."

"Why didn't she tell me about it?"

"Maybe she didn't want to get your hopes up and so don't tell her I told you. I mean it. You better not say a word."

"But Maggie..."

"Nelson, you'll screw everything up if you say anything. I think Mom wanted it to be a surprise. I shouldn't have told you. Really, Nelson, please don't say a single word about it. Swear?"

Her younger brother didn't answer right away. The tables were turned and now he suddenly had the power to put his sister on the defensive.

"Swear it, Nelson, right now." Maggie said again and Nelson gave a sigh, realizing that for once, his normally tormenting sister had come out on his side.

"Alright. Alright. I swear. So, when do you think she'll tell me about it?"

"I don't know. As soon as she hears back from him, I guess. It might not be until after Christmas because everyone's tied up with their families. I don't think he'll call her back until at least after New Year's."

"Oh, man, I have to wait that long."

"It won't be so bad. You'll be so busy with Christmas and you'll have that whole week off to do whatever you want. I'll be you forget all about it the minute you see all those gifts under the tree Christmas morning."

"What gifts? We're only getting three, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Oh well, it'll still be exciting. Remember, mom always makes those amazing sweet rolls. You can wake me up when you get up, even if it's really early. I promise not to get mad this year, okay?"

"Well, I suppose. You'd better not yell at me, though. Last year you got me in trouble with mom."

"I did not. I just asked her to tell you let me sleep, that's all."

"Yeah, but she wasn't real happy that we started Christmas morning with you screaming at me."

"Okay, so I'm sorry. It won't happen this year, I promise. You can wake me up as early as you want and I'll come down and have breakfast with you, okay?"

Nelson smiled a satisfactory smile and turned to leave his sister's room, but then looked back at Maggie, "Mom knows they're coming, right?"

"Don't worry. It was her idea. It'll be fine."

Maggie wasn't sure it was a good idea not to have told Nelson about the things that would surely go on outside their house on Christmas Eve. He'd figure it out eventually, of course; but if he knew about it ahead of time, instead of looking forward to Christmas, he'd be dreading it and that's not what Maggie or her mom wanted. So, they both did everything they could to keep Nelson's eye on the holiday.

Meanwhile, at that very moment over the garage where Herman Varnas worked, Monty Azuolas was meeting with his group to prepare for the assault on the McGregor home. Sitting in reverse on folding chairs, Monty, Slice, his dad and several others gathered around a desk in the cluttered office with a hand sketched diagram of the McGregor's house. Each of Monty's fingers was tattooed with a letter spelling out an obscenity which rhymed the word truck and tiny crisscrossed axes were tattooed on his thumb finger. He was unshaven and grungy, but he wore an expensive black leather motor cycle jacket with the same axes logo printed on the back with the name LAISVE underneath in gold letters.

Pointing to the area on the diagram where the back porch was, Monty directed himself to Slice, "This is where I want you. Now, that's their kitchen and so make sure the lights are on inside before you approach. They won't see outside in the dark if the lights are on inside."

"What if their porch light is on?" Slice asked.

A sinister grin took over Monty's face, "It won't be. I took it upon myself to go over there and break the connections on all their back lights while the kids were at school and their mom was at work. I don't think they'll take the time to fix it when they're so busy," his grin became even more menacing, "baking Christmas cookies and decorating their f'n tree"

With a sinister grin he continued, "David here," Monty patted the shoulder of a man whose bald head was tattooed with the gang's name, "has been watching the girl and her new boyfriend, the kid whose house we so conveniently made disappear," he snickered, "and I know both families will be inside that night."

The men looked at each other with contemptible delight, "Wow, guess that new house he got won't really matter when the bunch of them go up in flames, will it?" Slice said.

"One more thing, guys," Monty took a firm tone, "our 'benefactors' promised us a nice bonus once this thing hits the news, but we have to make absolutely sure that this never points back to us or to them and you guys know what could happen if it does. So, make it big. Burn that house. Burn them crosses and make sure our message gets out. We ain't putt'in up with no freaks telling us what to do or how to live anymore."

For several more hours, the men drank beer and chewed over their plan. Eventually Slice and his dad went home, but the remaining Laisves simply passed out for the night where they sat. Little did they know that just hours before, over at the Varnas house, a very different conversation was taking place. An angry James pushed his way into the house after a few members of one of the local Hispanic gangs had taunted the kids playing at the arcade until they were bullied into leaving.

"Damn those jerks! They're assholes!" James growled to himself as he slammed his school books on the kitchen table.

"Don't use that language, James," his mother said, "It offends God."

James opened the refrigerator door to pull out a container of orange juice, "What God?" he asked, "there ain't no God."

His mother became firm, "Sit down. I want to talk to you."

'Oh boy, he thought, 'here it comes.'

But his mother didn't become loud or angry. Rather she pulled up a chair next to him and clutched his hands in hers, "You listen to me, James. If ever anything I said meant anything at all, I want you to know that the words I speak are important and you must remember them always, do you understand me?"

A little concerned by his mother's urgency, James replied, "Sure, Mom. What is it?"

"James, there IS a God. He is right here in this room and He sees everything you do. He hears every word you speak and He even knows what's in your head. When you speak those bad words, why do you speak them?"

Before James could answer, she continued, "It's to offend the people you're angry with. It's to show how tough you are when you watch people cringe at your words. If that's what's in your heart when you use profanity, what do you think God feels when you speak that way?"

Again, she answered her own question, "He weeps! He feels pain because He knows what darkness lies in your heart."

"Aww, come on, Mom, Look how we live. Look what kind of life we have. How can you say there's a God?"

"Do you not go to school every day and learn?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Did you not meet that nice boy Nelson and his family?"

"So?"

"Weren't you made aware of your father and your brother's plans?"

"Uh, yeah, and I wish I could kill them both!"

"Stop! I am not talking about such things. They will be taken care of. You and I will go to the McGregors on Christmas Eve with all those good people and the police will take care of everything."

She was persistent, "You are missing the point, son. You are alive. You are healthy. You are smart. Do you know why all these things have happened?"

"No, mom, I'm lucky I guess." James said mockingly.

"All these good people you have met and the knowledge given to you happened because God has plans for you, son."

"Okay, Mom, now you're scaring me. Even if there is a God, I don't think He gives a crap about me."

"My boy, my boy, you have no idea," she said tightening her grip on his hands, "There is a much bigger picture going on. God wants you to live a good life, James. He is doing all this to create a path for you. A way out to better things."

James loosened her grip and rubbed his clenched fists on either side of his temples, "Mom, why are you telling me all this?"

He looked into her eyes, "I'm nobody. I'm nothing."

Kathy Varnas took control of his hands again, "You are more than you think, James. You are special in God's eyes. He has shown me that He really loves you and He wants wonderful things for you."

"Mom, I love you, but I got to tell you, I can't tell you that I have faith like you have. I've seen too much. God never talked to me. I ain't never even thought about Him until you talked about Him that night when you, well, you know."

"When I found the gun?"

"Well, yeah, that's the first time you ever told me that you had taken me to church when I was little."

"I'm talking to you about Him, now, James, and it's so important that you understand that He is with you. I won't always be here. Someday, you'll be on your own and you have to be strong. God will help you to be strong and to make something good of yourself."

"It sure doesn't feel like God is here. Sometimes it feels a lot more like hell."

"I know. I know. It's been a terrible life for you, James, and I'm so sorry."

James stiffened his body, "Mom, it ain't your fault!"

"Don't say 'ain't'," she lovingly snapped back, "They didn't teach you to talk like that in school. You know better."

A little twist curved the corners of James smile, "Yeah, I know. I guess I'm still in defensive mode," he said as he explained what happened at the arcade.

"Don't allow those boys to affect you, James," she spoke with understanding, "You are so much better than that. Walk away when they start. Just walk away. It's not worth it to become entangled with them."

"You're right, but they get me so mad. I wish we lived somewhere else where there were no gangs. I wish we lived in California," he teased, "and all we did all day was surf and swim."

His mother smiled, "Ah, that would be nice, wouldn't it, but I don't think that's all they do even there, son. Anyway, who knows, maybe someday when you have a good job, you can live there if you want," and she playfully added, "Not that I would want to live there. They say California will sink into the sea someday, you know."

"Mom, how come you never talked to me like this before?"

"I know. It's been too long. I almost forgot that I was a mother or a wife. It took me learning about the gun to shake me up, I guess. All these years with your father made me hard. And losing your brother to the streets didn't make it any easier. He's done such terrible things, but he's still my son. I think I felt ashamed that I wasn't able to stop how things turned out. I thought I didn't deserve a good boy like you."

"Don't say that, Mom. Don't ever say that."

"It was like God gave me a good kick in my backside and told me to stop feeling sorry for myself. I had to stop you from going down the same path as your brother. It broke my heart when I lost him to the ways of the gangs. I still weep for him every night.

But there is so much good in you, James, and I was doing nothing to encourage you to stand strong. I guess God had to take some drastic action to wake me up. That's how He works sometimes. He lets bad things happen for a greater purpose, but his protection is always there," she held out both of her arms toward James as though she was sizing up the gift God gave to her, "and look at you. You are such a handsome and smart young man. I'm so proud of you."

Then, they both relaxed and sat silent for what seemed like a very long time. Mrs. Varnas asked James if he'd like something to eat and prepared him a tuna club. Without speaking, she sat and watched him eat.

"Mom," James finally said, "I know you'll die someday, but you're not planning on leaving anytime soon, are you?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know. Just the way you said you won't always be around."

She laid her arm around her son's shoulder while he finished the sandwich, "I'll be here as long as you need me, James. Now, your father will be home late. Use this time to study and then get some rest. Think about the nice time we'll have with your friends and, don't worry, James, we'll be alright. I promise."
CHAPTER 14

Late afternoon when the Fiores arrived at the McGregors, Detective Sanchez was already sitting around the kitchen table with Captain Josh Burk and Officer Jack Wilson going over the details of their plan.

"Welcome!" Susan said to the group of six standing on the front porch, "Come in. Come in. I'm so glad you came."

Rick's grandparents held out several steaming lasagnas while his parents carried in several pies fresh from the oven. Maggie was standing just behind her mom at the crowded door when Rick reached around Susan to hand her the double sized red poinsettia plant he carried.

Maggie moved forward to accept Rick's arms surrounding her while her own hands supported the flowers. She peeked around his neck in the hopes of seeing James and his mom pulling up outside, but there was no sign of them yet. Mistakenly thinking Maggie was looking for the Laisves, Rick assured her, "No sign of them out there. I imagine they won't show up for a few hours," and in his effort to bring some levity, he added, "At least I think we can eat first."

Although there was a cloud of anxiety hanging over them, there was a deliberate effort to carry on like any normal Christmas holiday and to trust that the police would keep them safe. Still, there was a persistent gnawing in Rick's chest about the unknown. He found himself scanning through the windows as he walked through the house toward the kitchen with his family.

Detective Sanchez introduced everyone to his team before he instructed Josh to join him and his team outside leaving only Jack inside to blend in with the family. Eight more men and one woman were strategically placed around the property at a safe distance to avoid being discovered by the Laisves. It was the department's hope that they were prepared enough to avoid a serious calamity, but there were no guarantees. The idea that the Americans for Religious Justice were suspected of coordinating with the Laisves added an unwelcome dimension of unpredictability to their normally cohesive preparations.

In his own world watching TV in his room, Nelson avoided contact with the growing gathering downstairs in the living room. He was disappointed that James hadn't shown up, confident that his friend had backed out. He didn't blame James, really. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to sit around with a bunch of old people anyway, but after an hour or so of distant voices sharing stories about their own Christmases past coming from the lively chatter around the tree, Nelson jumped to his feet with his mother's call from the bottom of the stairs, "Nelson honey, James is here!"

James and his mom were still handing their coats to Maggie when Nelson flew down to the small vestibule at the front door, "You made it!" he shouted.

"Yes," Mrs. Varnas replied, "I'm so sorry we're late."

Truth be told, they had to wait for Mr. Varnas and Phillip to leave the house. And shortly after the two men left, Mrs. Varnas broke down weeping at the thought of something horrible happening to her eldest son. There was no doubt that Phillip had been ensnared by her husband into a life of lawlessness, but she remembered how innocent he was as a toddler. He consistently smiled and had displayed such curiosity about each of his toys. But her husband's resentment of Phillips affection toward her left no room for positive growth in her son. Mr. Varnas quickly took over as the unprincipled mentor who transformed her son's innocence into a corrupt immorality, possibly emerging as an even more degenerate personality than himself.

Her eyes were still a bit red from the breakdown, but she reached down deep in her gut to control the appearance of being shaken, "I'm afraid I spilled some tea all over my clothes and I had to find something else to wear and then I couldn't find my car keys. I'm so sorry. It was one of those times," she tried to be convincing, "you know, Murphy's Law. It comes at the worst times."

"Don't you worry about a thing," Susan reached over, greeting Mrs. Varnas with welcoming arms, "I'm just so glad you made it. It's great to finally meet you!"

James recoiled his body as Susan embraced him, too. The Fiores were also standing by to welcome them, but Nelson pushed his way ahead of them to get through to James, "Come on. Let's go play the hockey game. My mom made a ton of scrum-diddily-umptious cookies, too."

"Wait just a minute, you two," Susan reached her arm out to touch her son's shoulder, "You stay right here with all of us. You can go play after we eat, but for now, I'd like you to stay and visit with our guests. And I don't want to see you eating any of those cookies until after dinner."

The tall, gloriously decorated and brilliantly lit tree caught James off-guard, "Whoa, will you look at that."

Of course, James had seen Christmas trees dozens of times before at malls and even at school, but to see one right there in a house with pine garland draped across the fireplace and above the archway to the living room took his breath away. He didn't remember seeing anything like that at his house even when he was a little kid. With every passing year, his dad had become more and more anti-Christian and he forbade any mention of Christmas never mind allowing even a single decoration to adorn their dwelling. No wreath on the door. No tree. Not even Christmas cookies. His mom would wink at James when she handed out the baked treats made in non-traditional shapes as if to tell him 'they may not look like Christmas cookies, but you and I know that they really are' and James suddenly recalled a time when he was maybe only seven or eight years old that she left his cookies with a glass of milk on a table near their fireplace when she told him it was time to go to bed. That was the last time he remembered any recognition of Christmas in their home.

Oh, his dad and Phillip wouldn't deprive themselves of their own type of celebration. While other families went to church or stayed home with a gathering of relatives to join in the festivities and share in a big meal, those two would sit in front of the TV watching some horror flick they rented, drinking beer and stuffing their faces, sometimes eating all the cookies before he had a chance to taste a single one.

Meanwhile, Captain Burk sat in his unmarked car outside the house observing the general area when he noticed a van approaching the VFW hall across the street. The van appeared to be driven by a clean shaven young man who was accompanied by a man in a Santa suit. The sides of the van were marked Salvation Army.

Burk radioed Detective Sanchez who was in another unmarked vehicle parked in the driveway of a nearby gas station, "Hey Sanchez, we expecting an event at the VFW today?"

"Uh, I don't know. I haven't heard of anything. Could be a Christmas party for the kids of that Helsing House, you know, the home for troubled kids. Maybe, they're having a party for them."

"You think they'd have a party on Christmas Eve?"

"Why not? A lot of folks volunteer on Christmas Eve. I know there's a supper going on over at St. Francis's. But you know what, go check it out just to be sure. Report back when you get over there."

"Roger. If you don't hear back in five minutes, come looking."

Burk and his partner followed the two men on foot as they carried wrapped packages toward the VFW. They noticed the wreath attached to the front bumper of the van which certainly indicated that there was some sort of holiday event being planned inside the hall. Since the officers were in plain clothes, they approached the man in the Santa suit without fear of being identified as policemen, "Hey Santa," Burk called out, "Looks like you've got a lot of gifts to carry inside. Need some help?"

The man replied, "Oh, no. We're fine. We just a have a couple more. Gotta take care of the kids, you know. They'll be here any minute." The other man quickly grabbed the remaining boxes as both men sped up their pace checking behind them to make sure the two unidentified officers hadn't come closer, "Sorry, we've got to hurry. The kids just think they're having a party and they don't know I, uh, Santa will be visiting them tonight. It's a surprise."

The officer with Burk had discretely radioed the station to verify that there was going to be a party at the VFW and, although it was confirmed, something didn't set right with him. Still, he unwisely pushed aside any notion that the two men were anything other than volunteers doing something good for the kids on Christmas Eve.

"Checks out," he said to Captain Burk, "Party starts in two hours."

Little did they know that the Helsing House event was for staff members and no party was planned for the kids. The wrapped boxes were filled with the makings of fire bombs. Inside, Pavojiney Azuolas stripped off the Santa suit and began to assemble the glass bottles. Soon they were joined by Herman Varnas and Slice as well as several other Laisve members, all who wore clean, pressed clothing with groomed hair and shaven faces. It was their intention to be long gone from the VFW by the time the staffers from Helsing House arrived, leaving behind the torn boxes as the only evidence that the hall had been invaded.

Back at the house, the aroma of roast turkey and sweet yams and Italian food floated through James' nostrils. He was so moved by the sweetness of the experience that he fought the swelling of his eyes from the tears that ached to flow. He watched and listened as the laughter in the room danced in his heart. No one but his mother could imagine the gratification of the scents and sounds that filled his essence. So this was Christmas, he thought. He smiled and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if to gather the feelings inside for safe keeping.

Susan, astutely recognizing that the boys were likely dying to eat something, offered a token to satisfy their restless urges, "Would anyone like some hot cocoa or some hot gluhwein, for the adults only of course?"

"What's gluhwein?" Rick's mother asked.

"Oh, it's German," Susan replied, "It's spiced, heated wine. It's quite delicious, but I also have un-spiked eggnog if you'd rather not have alcohol. I rarely drink myself, maybe twice a year, but I do enjoy this drink. It was handed down to me by my great grandmother who they say borrowed it from a nobleman when she served as a kitchen maid."

"Umm, sounds really interesting," Rick's grandfather said, "I'll have some. Of the wine, I mean. I'm lactose intolerant and can't have eggnog," he teased, although he really had no allergy and just wanted something with a little more kick to it.

"Oh, you are not lactose intolerant," Rick's grandmother interrupted," He just likes the idea of feeling a little ubriaco."

"Ubriaco?" Susan asked.

"Tipsy," Rick replied and everyone laughed.

"Well, then," Susan said with a grin, "I think I'll get us a pitcher of each and you can help yourselves."

Rick's mom stood up to help Susan in the kitchen. The officer hadn't wanted to interrupt the gathering and so he had been sitting at the kitchen table, "Oh, please officer Wilson, join us in the living room. You don't have to sit in here all by yourself."

"That's okay, ma'am. I'm fine."

"I insist," She said, "There's plenty of room in the living room and it's Christmas Eve, for goodness sake. I won't have you off to yourself in here."

"Well, thank you, ma'am and, uh, it's Jack."

"Okay, Jack. You can help us carry these trays in."

A light snow had fallen just hours before leaving a carpet of sparkling white like diamonds under the street lights as the sun began to set. Soft Christmas music played in the background and a natural comradery quickly developed among those who had not so long ago been strangers. The idea that there was danger lurking outside slipped their minds and they eventually sat down to dinner without a mention of anything to do with the Laisve.

On the street, Detective Sanchez received an unanticipated call from the station, "Hey Ron, just got word that somebody threw fire bombs at the WXIX building. Only a few people were inside and they got out okay. Dan McKinley was doing a report right when it happened. They were able to put some of the fire out with their own extinguishers, but the fire department got there in time to save the building."

The news confirmed to Sanchez that their stakeout wasn't in vein, "Thanks for the heads up. I think I'd better go over and check on the McGregors," he said when the man at the station continued, "Ron, that's not all. There was a foiled attempt at the Colonial Baptist Church, too. They were having a service there when some of the folks who were standing outside spotted a couple of guys just about to light a fire to a bunch of brush pushed up against the front stairs. It was lucky they happened to be outside. I guess they were planning on handing out some kind of Christmas decoration to the people as they left the service when they saw the guys. The men ran away, but at least they didn't get to do any damage."

A stunned Sanchez got out of his car and ran toward the McGregors', his partner and men from another car following directly behind. As he was running, Sanchez called to Officer Wilson inside the house.

"Heads up, Wilson. Check outside!"

Inside, Wilson stepped over to the window to scan the perimeter outside. Suddenly the gathering became tense, "What's going on?" Nelson asked.

Officer Wilson replied to the voice on the other end of the radio, disregarding Nelson's panic, "I think they're out there."

He took out his radio and called to Detective Sanchez, "I don't see anything," but his instincts told him that someone was out there.

Nelson started to panic, "You guys better tell me what's going on."

But all his mother could do was to try and calm him, "It's going to be alright, dear. Just stay close."

Meanwhile, the Laisve plan had been designed not by them, but by the atheist group that enlisted them. In the past, they had worn their colors and it was always pretty clear when they were up to something, but not this time. Before their arrival, they had stolen a Salvation Army truck and they wore jackets with the Salvation Army emblem. Their beards had been shaven to make them nearly unrecognizable with the exception of one member of the gang who wore a Santa suit.

The officers had been deceived. The Salvation Army often held events during the season to supply low income families with necessities to help reduce the stress of their holidays. It never occurred to them that; even with the organizations notoriety for good will, holding an event right on Christmas Eve for children was that unusual.

So, the Laisve had slipped by the steak-out with little effort. It wasn't until an officer who was positioned across the street realized what was going on and he radioed Detective Sanchez who was near the neighbor's house in the back, "My God! It's them!"

"They're at the house!" Sanchez radioed to the officers who were sitting down the road in an unmarked car, "Move! And call in the CSI and get them down here now!"

Sanchez spotted Azuolas who was in the process of pulling off his Santa suit behind a large shrub. He called out the familiar word, "Freeze!" but Azuolas ran toward the house carrying a firebomb in his hand. Slice and his dad were also in the back tossing bottles on to the porch and through the window. At first they thought Sanchez was the only cop around, but when they realized that it was a set up, they tried to run. Chaos broke out everywhere as the families and officers scattered about slamming the small fires with wet cloths and foam. A shot was fired toward Azuolas that missed, but nonetheless, he dropped to the ground in surrender.

"It's those guys from that gang, isn't it." Nelson persisted in his terrified confusion.

James tried to calm Nelson by putting his strong arm around him, "It's gunna be okay, kid. The police are handling it, "but it only caused Nelson squirm out of his grip.

"You know what's going on? How come I'm the only one who doesn't know what's going on! I'm not going to let them burn our house like they did Rick's!"

A loud crashing sounding like broken glass caused Officer Wilson to open the front door with his radio locked to his ear. His communications indicated that the others were aware of the commotion in the yard, but he still didn't see anyone. In his bewilderment, Nelson ran outside.

"Oh, my God!" Susan yelled, but Rick's grandfather held her back from following her son, "You can't go out there!" he said as he darted outside himself after Nelson.

Another sound of broken glass came from the kitchen. A fire bottle had been thrown through the back door with another one lighting up the back porch with a small section of flames.

Mr. Fiore threw his jacket over the flames in the kitchen, putting out the fire before it could spread and Rick grabbed the table cloth from the kitchen table and began to slap the fire outside until that, too, was put out. He could hear profanities being screamed out by the intruders while the police identified themselves ordering the men to halt.

Rick's grandfather called out to Nelson, "Come back inside, boy."

Another shot was fired and a mesmerized Mrs. Varnas couldn't handle it anymore. She broke past Rick at the back door, "Stop it, Phillip!" she shrieked, "Stop it right now."

Stunned, Tony and Maria Fiore froze at the door. There was nothing they could do.

Kathy Varnas stood in the snow with her arms waving in the air. She saw Nelson to her right and she saw her husband to her left. One of the officers was behind her husband, but Varnas looked past his wife to Nelson. He aimed the gun straight toward the boy, not realizing or caring that it was a child.

Just as Varnas fired toward Nelson, the officer shot him causing him to crash to the ground, but it was still too late. Mrs. Varnas had reached for Nelson trying to shield him, but her husband's bullet lunged into her head, causing gushes of blood to explode from her brain.

Nelson laid in shock beneath her body while James and the others came running out of the house. It happened so fast, but the gang members were apprehended and all the fires put out, What took mere seconds, was a picture of horror that moved in slow-motion within a gruesome frame.

Young Nelson rolled out from under Mrs. Varnas' limp body, his mother grabbing him tightly in her arms to guide him away. With a cry that could be heard by the angels, James knelt down next to his mother, "Mamma, Mamma" He wailed. He lifted her torso and cradled her in his arms, gasping for breath through the tears that poured from his eyes, "Mamma, Mamma, don't be dead," wheezing, he moaned, "Mamma, don't go. I love you. I need you, Mamma". He clung to her while he rocked her body back and forth.

Charlie Fiore gently pulled James away as Detective Sanchez stood over the body. Officer Wilson lifted the wounded Varnas to his feet. Varnas stood there whining about the pain from the place where Officer Wilson had shot him, his jaw still wide from the shock of seeing his wife drop to the ground. A fury ignited in James as he glared at his dad looking for remorse, but all he could see was darkness where a soul should have dwelled.

Standing by his family, Rick watched as the men were escorted toward a van that would take them away. He could feel in his own gut the agonizing sorrow from James' tears. Unable to control his rage, he suddenly rushed to where Varnas was being handcuffed and threw a powerful punch to the man's jaw creating a split lip, "May you rot in hell," he cried, "I hope you never see the light of day ever again!"

"Stop, Rick," his mother called out to him, "Let it go." And the young man turned back to his family.

While the police gathered the forensics outside, Detective Sanchez guided the families back into the house. They tried to find some explanation; some reason for the tragedy that had just unfolded. After the arrests were made and the wrongdoers driven away, the detective expressed his regret about not recognizing how the gang had used tactics they'd never used before, completely changing their appearance and using the Salvation Army truck to slip past their view. He apologized over and over for the tragic result.

"We've tracked these guys for years we just never expected anything like this. Oh, they've been slippery. They've been unpredictable before when it came to what the heck sets them off, but they weren't acting on their own this time," he said, "They're simply not smart enough to have thought this out themselves." Nothing he could say would ease his guilt, but it would have made matters worse if he showed weakness, "but we'll get the truth out of them, I swear."

He laid his strong hand on James' shoulder, "Son, I am so sorry about your mother and I'm so sorry it had to be your dad at the other end. I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry. I'd give anything if it didn't happen this way," but the policeman in him caused him to blurt out, "I'll call social services. We'll need to find a place for you, son."

There was rage in James' moisture glazed eyes, "No way! I'm not going anywhere. Leave me alone!"

Both Susan and Liz broke in at the same time, "Let him stay with us."

"It's Christmas," Liz said, "Let him stay with us."

Defiantly, Susan added, "He could stay here, too. He needs to be with friends, for gosh sakes. No way are you taking him tonight."

His own heart aching for the young man, he conceded, "Let me make a few calls and see what we can do. It is Christmas Eve, I suppose. I'll hold off calling, but," and he gave a firm nod to James, "you have to stay with these folks for sure. No sneaking off to anywhere, son. You got me?"

Exhausted and unable to speak, James nodded in affirmation. He collapsed into one of the living-room chairs and laid his head in his hands still weeping. Then he clutched his arms around his belly, curling his body into a ball and moaned like the lost child he was. Torn between the inevitable questions about his future while facing the devastation that just befell him, the whole world darkened around him, he was too afraid to die and he didn't care about living. Utter bleakness reeked from his every pore.

His coldblooded dad and his brother were finally out of his life forever; but in the process, they took his mother only days after she had broken free of their emotional oppression, expressing her love for him like she had never done before. If ever he felt alone; if ever he felt afraid; if there ever was a time when he felt so lost that he might never find his way into the sunlight again, this was a time when his tired spirit was strangled in despair.

Shortly after one in the morning James gave in to sleep. No one wanted to wake him and so the Fiore's decided to leave him at the McGregors for the remaining holiday. Susan pulled a quilt from the linen closet to cover him, then, she sent Maggie and Nelson to bed. She added a log to the fireplace as its soft glow reflected the remaining tears still gathered under the boy's thick lower lashes.

Susan wondered what would become of him. She tried to imagine how he felt, but even with her husband having left her own family, she couldn't relate to the kind of emptiness that must be flooding James' heart. His loss was so much more profound than hers. In fact, James' mother had saved her own son's life. Susan didn't think James would be prepared to hear that just yet. His sorrow was too great. Losing his mother in such a despicable manner was all consuming to James, understandably so. She prayed for God's grace to show her how to help him and, then, she too fell asleep.
CHAPTER 15

Awakening from a deep sleep, the nightmare that was Christmas Eve was dulled until Maggie and Nelson fumbled their way down the stairs to see James still curled up in the big chair in the living room. They tried to tip toe around him to the kitchen where their mom was brewing coffee and heating up sweet rolls for breakfast, but between their shuffles and the aromas, a startled James jumped to his feet, surprised at his surroundings before he remembered the horrific events of the night before.

"It's okay," Susan said, "You're at our house. You'll be staying with us at least for the next few days, James, until we can figure something out. Are you alright?"

Groggy eyed, James simply nodded. He cast his eyes around the room as visions of chaos reappeared in his mind. A piercing struck at his heart and he buckled back into the chair, rubbing his eyes to hold back the resurfacing tears.

"Here," Susan said as she laid a comforting arm around his shoulder, "These were my husbands, but I think you're tall enough where they'll fit you. Why don't you go up to Nelson's room where you can change into them?

She added, "I think you'll feel better and if you want to take a shower, you can. Nelson, go show him where everything is."

James followed Nelson to the shower where he stood dazed; attempting to scrub the sorrow from his body before he changed into the clothes Mrs. McGregor had given to him. When he was done, he asked Nelson to leave him alone for a few minutes so he could gather his thoughts. He sat for a long time on the edge of Nelson's bed, his head buried in his hands, searching for answers and wishing he could go back in time to stop his mother from making the fatal decision to go after Slice. There was nothing she could have done to stop him. He had been lost years before to the illogical influences of hate.

Through a myriad of alternative scenarios, James couldn't resolve the 'what ifs' that tormented him and so he finally gave in to the realization of his circumstances. He buttoned the last buttons on his shirt and went back downstairs.

"They fit you really good." Maggie observed, "The shirt's a little big and a little old fashioned, but you look really nice, James."

Feeling numb, James tried to acknowledge her. He couldn't have cared less about the clothes, but he said, "Thanks. I kind of like the shirt."

"Come. Sit," Susan said as she pulled out a chair for him to set at the kitchen table, "I've made coffee, but I think you'd probably like milk," but as she set the milk on the table, James made his choice to have coffee instead.

"Okay, sure." She said; not sure if the caffeine might aggravate his nerves, she was relieved when he asked her to put lots of milk in it.

"Would you like some sweet rolls or maybe some cereal?" she added.

"I have eggs or toast, too," she persisted.

But Maggie thought her mom might be pushing it a little too hard, "Mom," she gently suggested, "just put it out there and let him pick what he wants."

"You're right. I've made some scrambled eggs right there in the pan. Here's a little plate and a bowl. We have Raisin Bran...oh, you probably wouldn't like that...but we have Cheerio's. You take whatever you want. I can make you some toast if you don't want sweet rolls, okay James?"

"Mom," Maggie said again.

"Oh, dear," Susan sat down at the table, "James, I just want you to know that we're going to push for letting you stay here as long as you like. Everything's going to work out. I promise."

Nelson sat down next to James. He thought about James' mom getting in between him and the bullet that killed James' mom, but he was too afraid to speak it out loud. Rather he clumsily ignored his urge to recognize Kathy Varnas' sacrifice, "You'll get used to mom. She nags a lot, but she isn't too bad. Anyhow, she does laundry and she's a really good cook. You'll like it here."

Finally, James face showed the slightest bit of strength returning, "You've got it made, huh."

"Well, it's good most of the time, but she can be pretty strict sometimes, too."

"Did they take my mom away?" James blurted out, taking the wind out of Susan.

"Yes, dear. They took her. We'll take care of everything, James. We'll make all the arrangements, okay?"

"You mean for burying her?"

Susan forced herself to answer without revealing the agonizing sorrow she felt for James, "Yes, we'll make sure she's given a proper farewell and, if you want, you'll be able to see her again."

"You mean, like in a casket and all?"

"It'll be up to you, James, but don't think about it now. We won't keep anything from you. I promise. Let's just take this a step at a time. You need to absorb all this, honey, and we can't do anything today anyway. I think your mom would want you to have Christmas with us. I think that would mean a lot to her, James. I think it was what she wanted when she came here with you."

Then, Maggie remembered what day it was, "Hey, That's right. It's Christmas. James, I'm so sorry. We don't have a gift for you, but you can have whatever you want of mine, okay?"

"What would he want with any of your stuff?" Nelson started up, but his mom's reaction was prompt.

"We normally open our gifts after breakfast, James," Susan said, "But we'll..."

James spoke out before she could complete her thought. He understood that they were just trying to help and he knew it had to be uncomfortable for them to try and act normal. But he was hurting so badly that his response was unintentionally callous, "Hey, you guys do what you do. I can leave, alright?."

"Oh James," Susan said, "Don't say that. We want you here. We really do. I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable by us opening our gifts in front of you."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," James felt badly for his abrupt response, "You go ahead and open your gifts. I can watch and, besides, I really don't care about presents and stuff," and he made an effort to smile, "I can eat more sweet rolls while you're doing your thing."

"Okay," Susan smiled back, "You just relax, dear. My gosh, we haven't even finished breakfast yet, anyway," she looked around at the three children sitting there with her, "We're going to have a very nice day today. The Fiore's said they'd come back for Christmas dinner and they're bringing lots of food with them. I know you boys will like that."

"Mrs. McGregor," James asked, "Am I going to have to go in some foster home or something?"

"I don't know," she replied, "I certainly hope not, James. If I have my way, you can stay right here with us all the time, but we'll have to wait and see what happens. I don't know if they'll let me take you in. Just don't give up hope, though. No matter what, you'll always have us as family, okay James?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said struggling to hide his emotions. He wasn't really a kid anymore. He was nearly sixteen, but he felt like a helpless child. In his own way of thinking, it was critical that no one see just how broken he really was.

So James sat through the ceremony of gift opening with the McGregors. Since Maggie and Nelson each received only three gifts, thankfully, it didn't last too long and afterwards, Nelson suggested that he and James go outside for a while and maybe take a look down at the pond to see if there were any skaters.

"That's fine," Susan agreed, "but be back no later than two because I want us all to be together when the Fiore's come back," then she put her arm around James, "We can take a trip over to your house this evening and pick up whatever you need to get by for now. You can bring back your skates so that you and Nelson can go skating if you want tomorrow."

The two boys gathered up snow for snowballs along the way, targeting trees and trash cans until the noise from hitting the metal of the cans brought out a few neighbors to complain. No one was at the pond and so they skipped some stones across the ice to pass the time.

"I'm really sorry about your Mom," Nelson said, "I can't imagine what I'd do if something happened to my mom."

"I'll get by," James replied still fighting his emptiness, "Always have. Always will."

Awkwardly, Nelson faced James, "You will always have me. I'll always be your friend."

The look that appeared in James' eyes was one of both surprise and confusion. He reflected on the violence that had become the norm in his life and there was a tone of hollow demise in his voice, "You've got to be kidding. I'm nobody. There are a lot better people to hang out with than someone like me. Hell, I come from a family of murderers."

He didn't understand where it came from, but Nelson rebelled against the futility in James' words, "You didn't kill anybody and you're not like your brother. You're much better. I think you're kind of a cool guy."

"Cool, huh," James smirked, "If cool is a kind of poison maybe."

"No way. You're not bad like those guys at all. You stood up for me and I know you're smart because you've been helping me with my math. Besides, your mom is..., uh, was awesome. Maybe you take after her. Did you ever think of that?"

Through squinted eyes, James stared out over the rays of sun causing everything around the pond to sparkle. He hadn't thought of being like his mom before. It was as though a spasm of promise had shocked something deep inside him, "Yeah, maybe so." And he smiled at Nelson before the rage over her death was revived, "but my dad killed her. My own f'n dad killed her."

Yet Nelson wouldn't give up, "James, you're not like your brother and you're not like your dad. I know that for sure. Heck, I look up to you. Everybody else makes fun of me, but you didn't."

Unable to graciously accept Nelson's approval, James simply laid his arm around Nelson's shoulder, "Hey, don't you think it's time we head back to your mom's?" and once again the boys threw snowballs at various objects on their way home.

Already the aroma of baked ziti filled the McGregor's kitchen when the boys arrived back at the house. Rick and his dad were sitting in the living room while his mom was helping Susan peel potatoes and an eighteen pound turkey was roasting in the Nesco roaster Liz brought with her. Referring to Rick's grandparents, James asked, "Hey, where's Tony and Maria?"

"They'll be here shortly," Liz replied, "Grandpa's probably still wrapping presents. He's always doing things last minute," she smiled, "Don't forget we don't live in the same place anymore and so they'll be coming from their house."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot." James answered thinking to himself with frustration 'oh, no. More presents. I won't feel too friggin left out,' but Susan saw James' look of disappointment and tried to catch Liz's eye, "I think they did their gift exchange already this morning. Maybe they just got a later start."

"Right." Liz said catching on, "We already opened our gifts and, uh, I'm sure they did too. I remember when I was a kid; he always found something to wrap long after all the fuss was over in the morning. Typical man. Always doing things at the last minute. Anyway, I'm sure they'll be here in time to eat. They're never late for good ziti."

Nelson snuck a piece of celery from the vegetable tray his mom had made to serve the guests. Just as he was about to set it on the coffee table in the living room, the doorbell rang to announce Tony and Maria's arrival.

"Merry Christmas!" Maria sang out, "We come bearing gifts!"

Tony's arms were filled with packages and Maria carried a box of pastries she had made the entire week before, "I made these for the shop, but heck, I made a ton of them so they won't these few."

"Oh, gracious me," Susan said as she welcomed them into her home, "Set those down and go sit in the living room. Every body's here. We've got plenty of time before dinner."

"Not too long, I hope" Tony chuckled, "I'm already starving."

"Tony," Maria gently punched her husband's arm and laughed, "You just had breakfast a couple of hours ago. You men could eat twenty-four hours a day."

"No Andre?" Rick asked about his cousin.

Tony did a little twisting dance that reflected his age, "He's got plans with a lady."

No one had forgotten the horror of the night before, but with every good instinct they could muster, each tried to maintain a light hearted sense of normalcy for James' sake. Of course, James saw threw it, but he was grateful for the façade which allowed him supremacy over the eruption fighting to be released.

"Figures," Rick replied, "I knew it. He's been talking Anita, Anita, Anita for weeks now."

Tony gave Rick an awkward fist bump, "Ah yes, she's a hot one."

"Pops!" Rick shrugged with a laugh, "You're a dirty old man."

"Not that he could do anything about it," Maria teased as she followed Susan back into the kitchen, "Sweetheart, can I help with anything?"

"Not a thing," Susan answered, "Liz and I have everything under control. Why don't you just have a seat and keep us company?"

"I can surely do that. I'm good at that," and then she whispered to Susan, "How's the boy doing? Is he alright?"

"He's fine. He stayed in a chair in the living room all night. It broke my heart to watch him. The poor boy. No child should go through this. Detective Sanchez called to check on him this morning while he and Nelson took a walk after breakfast. He got a call from Herman Varnas' sister. I don't know how they found out so quickly, but they know Herman's in jail. Detective Sanchez said that she's as wild as her brother and she wants James to come live with her. I haven't said anything to him, yet. I don't want to make today any worse than it already is for him. It's just awful. I don't know what to do. He can't go live with someone like that. I think he barely knows her anyway. They live quite a ways away."

"Oh my Lord," Maria said, "How in the world did they find out so fast. It just happened yesterday."

"I guess the word got out through the gang and someone must have called her last night."

"That's just terrible. We can't let that boy go live with some other gang member even if is his dad's sister. What can we do?"

"I'm not sure. Detective Sanchez is working on something. He said he'd do everything he could to hold her off, but it won't be easy if they petition the court. It could take a long time.

"Why he can come stay with us."

Liz chimed in, "I think he should stay with us. We have that extra room and I'd feel a lot better if he had Rick close by to keep an eye on him at school and everything."

"We'd love to have him here," Susan continued, "But I'm pretty sure the sister must have been told where we live. I'm not sure what she might do with her being anything like her brother. Detective Sanchez is calling me back tonight after he talks to a few people. I think he might let James stay with you, Liz, but we have to let everybody think he's gone to a foster home. I'm not even sure he can go back to Tremont until this is settled."

"Well, he can't stop going to school," Maria said, "he'll get so far behind if they keep him out of school for gosh sakes."

"Detective Sanchez talked about a school," Susan remembered, "uh, oh my; I'm trying to think of the name. Oh, it's Billings Academy. Some of the kids who go there end up working at one of those Mathnasium franchises. You know, the ones that help kids learn math. Really smart kids go there. Those math places are cropping up all over the country. James would be great as a teacher at one of those. Of course, he's got a few more years before he'll graduate. Billings would give him a great head start and keep him out of Tremont where there might be too many memories.

Anyway, Billings would be great for tapping into his talent. He's just never had a chance to grow in that environment he's been living in. Anyway, it's not too far away and there's a private bus that picks the kids up. They even have security on the grounds and on the buses, he said. James could stay with you," she said looking at Liz, "if it all works out. I think Detective Sanchez got the idea from Rick telling him about how well James does in school. He seems to like Rick a lot anyway."

"Would he qualify for a place like that?" Maria asked.

"I don't know for sure, but I think so and I guess the detective thinks so or he wouldn't have mentioned it. James would have to be tested and, of course, we'd have to find a way to keep him from being taken by Herman's sister because if he's not with you, I doubt very much if she'd allow it. There's just so much that has to be done in such a short time, I just don't know if it'll all work out."

"God will help us," Maria said, "We have to pray for Him to get James through this."

"Oh, I've been talking to Him a lot," Susan replied, "When things get this bad, He's the only one who can make the impossible happen."

"Well, let's not put this poor boy through anything else today," Liz said, "Let's just carry on and wait for the detective's call. You will let us know what happens, won't you?"

Susan remembered another thing the detective had told her, "He told me something else about her, Herman's sister I mean, that really frightened me. Her husband is in an offspring branch of the same gang and both of them are suspected of being connected to some similar acts of violence, but the cops haven't been able to prove anything. I guess it all depends on what a judge says in the end."

Liz put her hand over Susan's, "Now, don't you worry, Susan. I think Detective Sanchez wants a safe place for James as much as we do and I know he'll do everything possible to make things right for that boy. We've got to give this to God and let Him handle this."

"You're right. Let's go sit in the living room. We don't want them to start thinking we're up to something in here." And each woman put on a cheery face as they rejoined Maggie, Nelson and their Christmas guests.

"Well," Susan said, "Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half. Help your selves to the vegetable tray. So, how was everyone's Christmas morning?"

Tony picked up one of the boxes he had set down next to him on the floor and handed it to Susan, "We thought you could use this with all the company you've been having," and he chuckled as he scanned his own family in the room, "It's new, but it's not."

"What Tony means," Maria continued, "is that it's one of those re-gifting things. We got it a few years back from a customer and, quite honestly, we never used it but it's real pretty and it's big enough to hold a good sized roast," and she explained the obvious, "Of course, we couldn't go shopping or anything on such short notice."

"Oh my," Susan said as she gently tore away at the paper and held up a large Christmas platter, "How beautiful. It's real china. Oh, thank you so much, but you really didn't have to."

"Aww, it's not much, but like I said, it's pretty and kind of festive don't you think?"

"I'll use it today. I think it's plenty large enough. Thank you again so much."

Then Tony handed a box each to Maggie, Nelson and James. It was awkward for James because he certainly hadn't expected anything to be for him. Nelson opened his box first, expressing his confusion at what he found inside, "What's this?" he asked.

"Well, when your mom was at the new house, she told us that after Christmas she'd be looking at getting you a dog."

Knowing what was coming, Susan's smile grew as she watched her son's face.

"And Rick decided he'd let you pick out one of Sugar's puppies. As soon as we heard about it, we decided with all your family has done for ours, we'd get you some supplies for it. I know you already picked out one, didn't you?"

Nelson jaw dropped, "Yes, sir. The one with the white rear end."

With that, everyone laughed.

"I think this collar will fit just fine on him," Tony added, "but you're still going to have to wait just another couple of weeks before you can bring him home. He's not quite ready yet, but we got you some other things, too, that we left at home until you pick him up."

"Wow, Thank you, Sir."

Then, Maggie opened the tiny box that had been handed to her. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the gold cross adorned with blue topaz from tip to tip, "Amazing." She said, "It's awesome."

"Again," Maria said, "We didn't go out and buy it. I've collected crosses over the years and now I have so many. I thought this one would be perfect for you. If I remember correctly, I got this one in Italy when Tony and I visited Milan in 1999."

"Oh, I remember that," Liz added, "Charlie and I had planned to go with you when I came down with that horrible case of pneumonia. I ended up in the hospital," she sighed, "I sure missed going on that trip."

Now James could not imagine what the elderly couple could possibly have in their home that they'd think suitable for him. He couldn't control his shaking hands to tackle the wrapping paper.

"Are you going to open yours?" Charlie asked the boy

Barely able to move with the weight of his sorrow tugging at his chest, James ran from the room. Susan took off after him as she heard Maria say, "It was just too much for him. We shouldn't have tried to cheer him up. He needs to mourn."

Uncertain as to where he could find solace in this strange house, he found himself sitting on the floor in Nelson's closet. Susan knelt down before the open door, "Oh James, I'm so sorry. We just wanted you to have Christmas. It was too soon, I know. Not even Christmas can heal your broken heart. I'm so sorry. We can be really stupid sometimes."

"Why did she have to die?" James broke down and cried, "She was the only one who ever loved me."

Tears began to roll down her cheeks, "I don't know, James. Terrible things happen and I just don't know why sometimes, but I do know this. Your mother sacrificed her own life in saving my son. I know that doesn't make it any easier on you, but you have to know that part of it. She saved Nelson. You're hurting too deeply to understand how sometimes God's plan sends one life to save another, but someday you'll understand. Just know that I love you, James."

"How can you love me. You barely know me? Besides, I don't need love anyway."

"James, everybody needs love. Every last one of us does, no matter how strong we are. Maybe I did just meet you a couple of weeks ago, but I've watched you with Nelson and I've seen you in our home. You're a wonderful boy, James, and I really do love you."

James leaned over to Susan and curled up the comfort of her fragile arms as she tenderly rocked his much bigger frightened body. He could barely hear her words while he fought to stop the pain, "It'll be alright," she said, "God will wrap His arms around you and make you safe."

The two sat for a long time just rocking and crying together. No one called up to them when Maggie and Liz took over preparing dinner, but the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen finally brought them back to the day. Susan cradled James' face in her hands, "I think we should get something to eat, don't you?"

It wasn't as lively at the table as most McGregor Christmases were, replaced by tempered conversation and soothing gestures. After a quiet consultation with Susan, Rick opened up the conversation about bringing James home to his house that evening, "So, James, if it's okay with you, since we have the extra room and all, we'd love it if you'd stay with us tonight. Nelson can spend the night, too, if you guys want. We have the puppies you can play with"

The day was too much for James. He was exhausted and really wanted to be alone, "Yeah, sure," he said almost completely drained of emotion, "but I think I'd like to be by myself," he said looking for Nelson's approval.

Nelson was smarter than sometimes people thought, "Hey, sure. Maybe we can do something later in the week."

Then, Susan added, "I'll take you to your house later and I'll drive you over. James, I meant what I said upstairs. I will always be here for you. If Detective Sanchez is able to work things out, you'll either be staying here with us or with the Fiore's. Either way, you will have all of us looking out for you and supporting you as long as it takes."

The boy was unable to respond. Rather, he finished eating, asked to be excused and sat in the living room staring at the fire. Susan could barely hold back her tears, but she thought it best to let James feel what he needed to feel. There would be time enough to heal in the long days ahead. Everything in her being hoped that Herman's sister would decide to leave things well enough alone and let James start a new life where stability and love ruled.
CHAPTER 16

Herman's sister Carla was sitting on her front stairs smoking a cigarette when the phone rang inside, "Hey Fred, can you get that?" She called to her husband.

Seconds later, Fred appeared beside her, "It was that detective guy. He wants you to sign some papers for James. He wants you to come to the station this afternoon."

"If he thinks I'm giving up that kid, he's got another thing coming."

"You sure it's worth it," Fred asked, "I mean we don't even know the kid. He could be nothing but trouble for all we know."

"He's extra money, you idiot. We get more aid if we take him in."

Fred appeared to ponder for a moment, "How much?"

Easily annoyed, Carla answered, "Hell, I don't know, but it's more than we got now."

But Fred was unaffected by her flip tone since his own attitude wasn't much better. He turned to retreat to a sit-com on TV, "Well, he'd better earn his keep if he comes. Ain't no free ride around here."

"What time we going?" Carla called to him before he closed the door.

"Show's almost over. We can go in a few minutes. You ready?"

"Yeah, I guess."

At the police station, Kendra Smith met with Detective Sanchez before Mr. and Mrs. Waters arrived. He expressed his concerns especially about Fred Waters because; although his record wasn't nearly as extensive as his brother-in-law's, he hadn't exactly been a poster child for citizenship. He had several DUI's under his belt and he never held a steady job although he did work more often than not. His wife, Herman's sister Carla, worked pretty regularly as a caretaker for the elderly. However, there had been unsubstantiated complaints that she had stolen jewelry from a couple of her clients.

"Well," Kendra said, "It's certainly not automatic that a relative would get guardianship, but I'm sure the court will hear her out. It depends on a lot of things. It depends on how well she can con the judge into thinking she's an upstanding citizen and how convincing her husband is when explaining his frequent job changes."

"Look Ms. Smith,"

"It's Kendra, please."

"Okay, thanks. Kendra, this boy has been to hell and back in a very short time frame. He just recently became friends with the McGregor boy when his best friend moved away. The McGregors are a good family. They're Christians and they have a stable home life."

"Ah, but the father isn't around. That could go against her."

Detective Sanchez became frustrated, "That women has more good values than most, Kendra. Her kids do well in school and they've never gotten into any trouble. The girl volunteers a lot and is captain of her cheer leading squad. Except for not having their dad around, they're the epitome of the perfect American family."

"That may be so, but without a dad..."

"Then take a look at the Fiore family. They want to take James, too. Now they're a rock solid family. James already looks up to Rick, their son. He's eighteen and he's a Big Brother for gosh sakes. Both parents are there and they've been married forever. The grandparents are in the picture and Charlie Fiore has held the same job for over twenty-five years."

"At a pizza parlor."

"Come on, Kendra. There's nothing wrong with managing a pizza parlor."

"Does he manage it?"

"Yes, he and his dad manage it and they don't own it, but the guy who does has been a family friend his whole life and the guy trusts him completely. Heck, the owner is out of town more than not, traveling around the world. Charlie might as well own it for all he does around there and, Kendra, he has never missed a single day being sick. I've been getting pizza from that place myself for years. You couldn't ask for a nicer guy and they have an extra room they can put James in so he'll have his own room right away."

"How do you know so much about them?"

"It's a long story, but we pretty much know that creep Herman Varnas was responsible for burning the Fiore's house down a few weeks ago and I got to know the family pretty well when I covered it. Charlie took me aside after the incident at the McGregor's and told me he'd like to take the boy in. I briefed you on all that. I thought James might like the McGregor's because of his friendship with Nelson, but when I think about it, I guess the Fiore's might actually be a better place for him. Anything but getting stuck living with the Waters. That would crush all hope for a better life for that boy."

"We'll see. Anyway, it's not up to me. It'll be up to the court. I can only offer my recommendation."

"Well start recommending, Karla, please. This kid needs all the help and hope we can give him."

They cut their conversation short when they noticed the Waters waiting outside Detective Sanchez's office. They offered a look to each other that seemed to suggest they'd at least try to maintain an unbiased tone during the interview.

"Thanks for coming in," Detective Sanchez said as he offered his hand to Fred Waters, "Come in and sit. We want to talk to you about James Varnas."

"Yeah, he's my brother's kid. We'd like him to come live with us until his dad is able to take care of him again."

"Uh, Mrs. Waters, I don't actually think your brother will ever be able to take care of James. I'm assuming he'll still be in prison long after James is grown."

"Right, well, we want him to live with us. When can that be arranged?"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Kendra said to Carla, "You have to petition the court and there's a lot to consider before the judge can make that determination."

"He's my brother. We're the only family the boy's got. Why shouldn't we get him?"

Detective Sanchez could barely contain his apprehension, "Mrs. Waters, the judge has to make sure you have the best environment for the boy. He has to determine if you have enough room for him, if you have a good job record and so on and, frankly, the boy will have a say as well."

"I've worked the same job for years. So what's the problem?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Waters," Kendra insisted, "The judge might decide you'd make just fine guardians for James, but it still has to go through the process. You have no children of your own and you both are working. You're used to having your independence and your time for yourselves. Are you sure you want to take a teen boy into your home?"

"Of course we're sure." Carla was becoming irritated, "He's our blood. Fred here has always wanted a son to go hunting with, right honey?" she asked her husband with a phony sincerity.

"Uh, yeah, that's right. I love hunting and I've always dreamed of taking a son up into the mountains to hunt all those wild things."

Nausea was about to overwhelm Detective Sanchez, "You hunt caribou, Mr. Waters, do you?"

"Oh sure. Last year up in Gloucester County I shot me one."

"That's odd," Detective Sanchez continued, "I thought Gloucester was too far south for caribou."

"Oh right. That must have been when we were in Canada a few years ago. Sorry, I got mixed up."

Sanchez thought to himself that Fred knew no more about hunting than he had a chance in hell of being a good father, "I'm sure. Easy to do when you take so many hunting trips, I suppose."

"Well, when do we get to see a judge?" Carla asked.

By this time, Kendra was in the same mind set as Detective Sanchez, "It takes time, Mrs. Waters, but you should get started on the paperwork right away. Why don't you meet me at my office first thing in the morning and we can begin the process."

"If we're his only family, why is there any question?"

"Mrs. Waters," Kendra continued, "there might be another family that could take James if they check out. You have to be prepared in case the judge gives guardianship to them."

"What? Who is that?"

"It's the Fiore family. James has spent some time with their son before his mother was killed. They've become pretty close and the family decided they would like to take James in, too. I'm afraid, like I said, the courts will have to decide."

"We're his family," Carla insisted, "Ain't no strangers taking in our nephew. We'll see about that."

Kendra and Detective Sanchez guided the Waters to the door, "I'll see you tomorrow morning," Kendra said.

"You bet you will," and the insulted couple left the building.

"Oh my Lord," Kendra said to Detective Sanchez, "I had no idea. I just hope the judge sees through them."

"Are you kidding?" Sanchez replied, "The judge would have to be blind and deaf not to see what kind of people they are."

"Ah, but the laws are actually partly in their favor. I hope they show their colors as openly in court as they did here today."

Sanchez and Kendra Smith said their good-byes after which the detective called Susan McGregor to check on James. With the help of the department's psychiatrist, he had convinced Kendra to give James until the middle of the week with Susan before having to put him in the temporary custody of foster parents. The good news was that there was already a qualified couple in Susan's church who happened to be without a foster child at the time. The couple lived just a few houses down from Susan making it easier for James to spend time at her house if he wanted to spend time with Nelson after school.

"Ms. McGregor," Detective Sanchez said to Susan on the phone, "I got you a couple more days, but James will have to go to a foster family after that. I understand the Richmond's are members of your church. I don't think there will be a problem assigning James to them. I'd like to come over to talk to you and James and I'd like if the Fiores could be there as well. Do you think I could come over this evening?"

"Of course. Let's see, it's four now and I think I can feed the kids by five. After six thirty would be fine. I'll call the Fiore's and see if Mr. Fiore can get someone to cover for him at the restaurant."

"That's great. Kendra Smith will be James' case worker, but I won't be bringing her tonight. I want to get together with all of you to see if we set up a game plan to get James into the Fiore home. I know it's what they want, but with the Waters determined to get James, we'll have to be ready for just about anything. It might seem like it would be easy to dismiss the Waters, but you just never know and I want us to be fully prepared."

"I understand. I look forward to seeing you."

"How is the boy anyway?"

"He had a pretty rough day of it on Christmas and he's been pretty quiet, but he seems to be doing okay considering. It breaks my heart to see him go through this. I sure hope he can handle what's to come."

"It won't be easy, Ms. McGregor...I mean, Susan," the detective remembered her insistence that he call her by her first name, "but I think he's a strong kid. If for no other reason, his desire not to show weakness might just be the rock he needs to hold him up."

"Oh, he isn't all that strong, Ron. If you could have seen him, but you're right. I've learned that much about him. He's a fighter. And he'll have a lot of support with us and the Fiore's. We'll all be right here for him every minute."

"That's good, Susan. Let him know that no matter what, you won't go away. He needs that security."

"That won't be difficult at all. I'll see you when you get here, Ron."

At dinner, Susan explained what was going on to Maggie and Nelson and asked them to be present when the Fiore's brought James over to speak with Detective Sanchez. She reminded her children that no one could know what might be racing through James' mind, but it was certain that he had to be full of questions and doubts. She described how traumatic it will be for James to be confronted with such unfamiliar things by people he didn't know all that well; things which would have a profound effect on his very future. She told them that it wouldn't be easy for James, but she trusted that their presence would provide some sense of comfort to the heartbroken boy.

The doorbell interrupted Susan's homily. While Maggie and Nelson found a place to sit in the living room, she opened the door to the Fiore's and James. Detective Sanchez's arrival followed almost immediately as Susan brought fresh brewed coffee into the living room while the group gathered around the fireplace.

Much to their surprise, it was James who spoke first, "So, I'm going to a foster home?"

"Temporarily, James," the detective said, but we're doing everything possible to push things along so that we can settle the situation quickly."

"Settle what?" James asked.

"Well, that's why we came over," Ron Sanchez continued, "We want to know what you think about some ideas we have."

Still numb, James barely responded, "What kind of ideas?"

"First, I want to know what you'd think of living with Mr. Fiore here. I mean long term."

Charlie broke in, "Yes, James, our family was so glad having you with us last night and we want you to stay with us on a permanent basis."

"I can't stay with Mrs. McGregor?" James asked. He had been too worn out to appreciate his surroundings at the Fiores. His only thought was of Nelson and how he had bonded with the boy.

"It would be better if you stayed with the Fiore's." the detective said, "I know you like it here, but you wouldn't have to share a room like you would here and, quite frankly, it's important that if possible you have both parents living at home. It might not seem like a big deal, but if we're going to convince the courts to give them guardianship, having two parents is important."

"Hey," Rick quickly interrupted, "I'd love having you around and Nelson can come over any time. Heck, there's lots we can do together. I'll drive Nelson myself any time he wants to visit or I'll take you to see him if you want. I'll even help you fix up your room any way you like."

In truth, James needed someone like Rick in his life. He was very fond of Nelson, but at least for the time being, he wasn't up to relying on someone so young to lean on. Not that he needed to lean on anyone, he thought, but it might be cool to have a big brother just in case. In the fog of his memory, he was reminded how Rick stayed in his room for a long time the night before, just hanging out and talking before the weight of his eyelids forced them to close.

"I'm afraid I have to tell you something else, James," the detective went on, "Do you know the Waters?"

James coughed with a gruff sound, "Barely. That's my aunt and uncle. I saw them maybe twice since I can remember. They're real jerks. Why? What about them?"

Detective Sanchez leaned over close to James and faced him directly, "They're petitioning the court for guardianship, James. Now before you get upset, we're going to fight them."

"No way!" James stood up and backed away, "I'm not living with them. No way."

The detective continued, "Calm down, son. I've met them. I doubt very much if the courts will approve them, James, but we still have to go through the process. That's why it's so important if you want to live with the Fiore's that you show the court a confident stand on it."

James struggled to maintain his composure, "I won't live with them. I'd rather die. I'll run away. You tell me what I have to do keep me away from them and whatever it is, I'll do it."

"James," Liz Fiore said, "We don't want you to live with us just to keep you from living with them. We really do care about you and we want you to be part of our family just like we've kind of adopted the McGregors as part of our family. We all care very much about each other and we want you to be a part of it. We love you, James."

There was confusion in James' heart. He couldn't understand this love thing that they were talking about. He wondered how all these people could say that they love him when they only met him a few weeks ago. What did they have inside of them that gave them such abilities?

"Also, James," Detective Sanchez continued, "You're going to have to go back to your regular school next week, but there's a possible opportunity that I want to tell you about. Please, sit down."

Reluctantly, James settled back down into the same chair where he had fallen asleep the night his mother was killed. His fists remained tensed as he clutched the chair's arms.

"I have a friend with connections to a school called Billings Academy. It's a school where kids like you with exceptional math skills and," he interjected, "it also includes kids with other gifts like the sciences, where you'd be given the opportunity to grow and excel in those categories. You'd have regular classes, but also a lot of one on one attention. They have best tools of any school around and there's a good chance you might qualify. If you do, you won't have to worry about tuition or anything. It's not like you'd be sent away or anything. They have buses that pick kids up right in their own communities, just like regular school. They have a fantastic athletic department, too, so you could participate in just about any sport you'd like, including fencing or skating. I know you like hockey and you'd be able to join their team if you qualified."

It was overwhelming for James to hear about this entirely new path for his life, but on the other hand, he didn't really have time to absorb enough to panic. "So I won't be going to Tremont anymore?"

"Yes, you will have to continue to go there for now. We have to work out guardianship, first, and that could take as long as a couple of months or as little as a couple of weeks. I won't have the court date until after New Year's, but I should be able to get it right after that. I'm going to use every influence I can muster to get it done as quickly as possible so you'll at least know where you can rest your head at night. So, what do you think?"

"So, I can stay at Rick's until the court date?"

"I'm afraid not," Sanchez said, "You'll have to go with your case worker to a temporary foster home."

Now the panic began to creep inside, "When?"

Susan laid her hand on his, "The day after tomorrow, James, but the Richmonds live just down the street and they go to our church. They're a wonderful couple and you can spend as much time here visiting Nelson as you want. They're good friends of mine and I know you'll like them. Mr. Richmond is a big fan of hockey and so he might even take you to a couple of the games."

"How long will I be there?"

Charles said, "Just until we can clear things with the court for you to come live with us. Just hang in there, son. I know things will work out and I think you'll get along just fine with the Richmonds in the meantime. Your mom tells us they have a cat named dog," he laughed, "Can you imagine? When they first brought the kitten home, their neighbor's two year old met the thing and he called it dog. Thought it was so funny that they kept the name."

James just sat there exhausted from all the information that had been crammed into his head. Some of it didn't seem so bad, but he found it difficult to process even positive news in his state of total fatigue.

"Well," Susan concluded as she kept her hand over the boy's, "I guess that's it, James. I know this is an awful lot for you to handle right now, but we didn't think you'd want us to patronize you by not making clear the steps we have to take."

The tired boy lifted his head, "Thanks, Mrs. McGregor. I'm glad you've been straight with me."

"So, do you think you can handle going back to Tremont for now and staying with the Richmonds for a while?" Detective Sanchez asked James, "You'll stay with the Fiore's tonight and the case worker will pick you up there the day after tomorrow."

Sanchez knew he had pushed the envelope with Social Services to even allow James to stay with the Fiore's the extra nights. He hoped that James would get a good feel for their home and look forward to ultimate conclusion he was determined to accomplish where the Fiore's would become James' guardians.

"Yes sir." He said a little reluctantly, "I guess I don't have any choice."

"The thing is, James," Sanchez continued, "We're doing everything we can so that choice will be something you can enjoy for the rest of your life once we get through this initial maze of legal mumbo jumbo. Just hang in there, son. I know you can do it and it'll be worth it for you in the end."

Susan thanked everyone for coming and reminded Detective Sanchez to call her the minute he heard anything. Maggie and Nelson both hugged James as he stood with his arms to his side unresponsive, but strangely loving the tenderness they brought. Then, Susan wrapped her arms around him as well, "You won't be getting rid of us, James. You'll be spending a lot of time with us."

As soon as the door closed, Mrs. McGregor and her children clutched each other as tears overtook their stronghold. It had been the most difficult conversation they could ever remember; even worse than when Susan had to confront Maggie and Nelson to tell them that their dad wouldn't be coming back.

"Do you really think everything will work out, mom?" Maggie asked.

"God willing," Susan said, "God willing"

Nelson wasn't so sure, "I think it stinks that James has to live with the Fiore's. He's the only kid who never, ever teased me and he stood up for me when those knuckleheads gave me a hard time."

Regaining her composure, Susan reminded her son, "He is a good and loyal friend, Dear. I don't think he'll turn his back on you just because he's living in a different house. You need to have a little more faith, Sweetheart."

"Can he come to church with us next Sunday?"

"Well now, that's a nice idea, Nelson. I imagine he'll be in church anyway since he'll be with the Richmonds by then. They won't leave him at home by himself, but I think they wouldn't mind if he rode over with us and you two could sit together."

"Maybe I can get Rick to come, too," Maggie added, "He said he'd like to try it sometime."

Susan smiled with a look of pride in her children, "I guess if there's a place where love abounds; church would be it."
CHAPTER 17

There was a biting chill in the air the morning of Kathy Varnas' funeral. Sprinkles of dirt topped the piles of white along the sides of the streets where the plows had come through from the snow fall the night before. Because of their close relationship, Father Joseph arranged Kathy's wake at the Catholic funeral home, but most of the attendees were from Colonial Baptist, including Pastor Agnes who presided over the service alongside the priest.. Detective Sanchez, Officer Williams and Captain Burk remained in the background allowing the people who had become James' new family to fill the seats around the casket. Some of Kathy's friends from the hospital also stopped by; although James didn't know them, and Coach Mills was there with entire cheerleading squad filling the funeral home to capacity.

Directly in front of where his mother lay beneath the soft ray of clouded light filtering through a large stained glass window, James' foster family sat to his left while the McGregors and the Fiore's sat to his right. He was surrounded with people who had come to love him. Nonetheless; while he appreciated their comfort, they couldn't fill the hollowness left chilling his heart where his mother's smile used to be.

James' aunt Carla and his uncle Fred were nowhere to be found. Dressed in jeans and a black sports jacket which had been loaned to James by Pastor Joseph, the young man fiddled with the gold cross around his neck that he had thankfully retrieved from his mother's jewelry box when he was taken to his house to retrieve his belongings.

Never having experienced a funeral before, James had no idea what he might be expected to do, but it had all been taken care of and he wasn't asked to speak. With the weight of the world to carry and after all the words spoken by Pastor Agnes and Father Joseph, James was the last to kneel down before the casket to say good-bye to his mother. Being so broken, it was all he could do to breathe as tears rolled down his cheeks. He wondered why all the people who attended the service talked so much about God and how that faceless, imageless being could bring joy to his mother's soul, but he said nothing.

James had never learned about God other than through reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in school and hearing the very few words his mother had spoken in recent weeks. He certainly had no memories of the times his mother revealed in conversations of late where she had taken him to church as a young child. Now, here he was having already been passed among three strange families who, as kind as they had been, were not his own and he still feared the possibility of ending up with his Aunt Carla about whom he felt nothing but repugnance.

A gentle touch from Detective Sanchez awakened him from his desolate trance, "I'm so sorry, James. If you ever need anything, anything at all, day or night, you call me." And he handed James his card, "and by the way, the hearing will be next week and I think it's looking pretty good for you to stay with the Fiore's. No guarantees, but it's looking really good."

James didn't really want to hear it although it was good news. He could barely handle the experience he was living at the moment without having to look ahead to tomorrow, "Thanks." Was his only word. Following the wake, there was no procession to the cemetery; rather the body was quietly taken to a small plot behind St. Mary's; reserved as a place where favored souls could rest.

It had been decided that watching his mother be lowered into the ground might be too much reality for James to handle. He was already so fragile and the sight of her being covered over with earth could so easily break down his defenses and so he wasn't shown that part of the ceremony. He never even thought about what happened to her body. Of course, he knew that she'd be put into the ground, but it was only something he pictured like something on TV; like a story that was only theater, never imagining that he'd have to face that hard reality first hand. Instead, Mr. and Mrs. Richmond drove him to the Fiore's where people were gathered to eat donated food and talk about the wretched events that steered him to this day.

By evening, James was back home in the room the Richmond's had provided for him. He lay down just to rest for a while, but the warmth of the comforter Mrs. Richmond had placed over him felt like his mother's arms surrounding him with her tenderness allowing him to drift into a deep sleep.

In just two days, James would have to go back to school, something he almost looked forward to in the hopes of rekindling a sense of normalcy in his routine. But before that, he and Nelson spent time together just hanging out and doing a little skating at the pond. Their bond was growing tighter through their necessarily rapid emotional growth. Nelson hadn't even mentioned his cursed birth for days and, for the first time since he could remember, he didn't dread facing the usually bullies at school.

Julie Richmond drove James one last time to his house where they found a notice from the mortgage company on the door requesting that someone from the family come into their office to discuss the status of the now abandoned home. Yellow police tape remained across the front door after a search warrant had allowed the police to collect evidence in their case against Herman and Phillip Varnas, but once inside, it was clear that someone; most likely his Aunt Carla, had emptied the home of all its furniture as well. Only James knew of the existence a loose floor board in the laundry room where his mother had hidden a box. He respected his mom enough not to have ever investigated it, but he was sure something very important was contained within. With Julie's help, he lifted the board and pulled out box from the space beneath the floor.

"I don't want to open it here," James said, "I want to wait until we get back home, okay?"

"Of course," Julie responded, "I don't even have to be in the room when you open it. It's for you to decide what to do."

"Thanks Julie,"

And she drove him back to her home where he was destined to live at least until the court date the following week. That night after supper, James went to the privacy of his room to open the box he had found. Inside was a small notebook, a bible and just over six thousand dollars in fifty dollar bills. Astounded by his discovery, James slipped the bills into a zippered pocket of his school backpack and he never mentioned a word about it. He sat on his bed reading the notebook that contained fragments of his mother's thoughts about her failed relationship with her eldest son and her husband. There was mention of times Herman Varnas had beat her, but how she had to remain strong for James, noting that he showed signs of great intelligence. Her last words in the notebook were, "I am determined to give James' a better life. When the time is right, I will tell him how Father Joseph has helped me to keep my strength and always believe that God's love will conquer the evil things that have waged war on our lives. "

A desperate ache filled James' belly with longing to know what more his mom would have revealed had she lived. He wept, curled up in a ball on his bed as his tears soaked his pillow. Not even the thousands of dollars found in the box could bring his mother back. He missed her so much. He thought she might have been saving the money for a time when she could escape his dad's endless cruelty and he punished himself as his own interpretation of her words caused him to believe that she would have taken advantage of the opportunity to leave had it not been for her steadfast devotion to him.

Later that evening, Julie called James from the hallway outside his bedroom door asking him if he'd like to come down and watch TV and have some popcorn, but the boy answered that he was reading and that he was getting tired, anyway, and preferred to remain in his room.

He liked Julie and Tom very much, but he missed living with the Fiore's. In spite of it being only a brief time he spent there, James had already decided that living with Rick and his parents was where he felt most comfortable. Having Rick as a quasi-big brother allowed him to pretend that it was Rick, not Phillip, who was his real family. Mostly though, James just wanted to have a place to call home where he would no longer have to worry about what he might find when he walked through the door after school.

On New Year's Eve, the three families got together at the Colonial Baptist Church where a pot luck supper had become a traditional substitute for the typical celebrations that most people imagined. Although James had always remained hidden away in his room on most New Year's Eve nights to avoid the drunken house party that often turned violent by its end; and he had no idea what normal might be on this occasion, he found the somewhat tame gathering to be both refreshing in its calm and he found the menu being served a delight to his most discriminating teen pallet. Of course, the songs they sang were likely from centuries ago, he imagined, but at least everyone appeared to be joyously happy in their animated choruses.

Although Rick and his parents weren't regular church attendees, either, he was happy to be with Maggie and he was quite impressed with the comradery among the parishioners. Besides, he and Maggie had planned to leave early to go back to her house to watch Time Square on TV and have their own quiet gala while Susan and Nelson McGregor, as well as his family, remained at the church until after midnight.

James didn't know what to expect when the morning arrived when he'd have to go back to school. He hadn't recovered from losing his entire family, but he understood that if he allowed himself to find solace in mourning, he might lose his way back to anything that might resemble normalcy. He forced himself to get up immediately upon hearing Julie knock at his door saying, "Rise and shine, James. Time to get ready for school."

He found eggs, bacon and chocolate milk awaiting him at the kitchen table. A paper bag sat next to his plate and was already filled with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple and a chocolate chip Special-K bar for him to take for lunch. As was normal, none of the other students spoke to him along the bus's route until it stopped in front of the McGregor's house to pick up Nelson and Maggie. Nelson broke the ice by greeting him with a fist punch as he sat beside him, "Hey man, vacation's over, huh?"

Noting the relationship between Nelson and James, the other kids on the bus who might have been tempted to taunt Nelson, reconsidered. Rather, some of the same boys who had bullied Nelson in the past seemed to have found a new respect for him as he sat with the one they had previously feared. One of them even gave up his seat opposite the two boys so that Maggie could sit closer to her brother. James merely smiled, proud at the realization that his intimidating facade hadn't been lost.

Before the day was done, James determined that he was quite satisfied with his place at Tremont High School. His losses caused little effect on his enthusiastic learning. In fact, one might say that his losses pushed him further into the escape his education offered. It was a lot easier to concentrate on math than to ponder his emotional injuries.

Mr. Lang asked James to hold back before leaving his math class, "James, I have a test I'd like you to take one day after school. It's for Billings, but there's no rush. You can take it whenever you'd like."

Dumbfounded that everyone in town seemed to know more about his life than he knew himself, James asked if he could take the test after he went to court later in the week.

"I understand," Mr. Lang said, "and I'm so sorry about your mother. You take whatever time you need. Just give me a heads up any morning when you arrive at school and I'll have the test ready for you that same day."

Then the teacher opened the door of the closet in the classroom and handed James a computer, "Detective Sanchez said that this was your brothers. He took it during the search of your house and he said they got everything from it that they needed and he told me to give it to you."

"Wow. Thanks Mr. Lang, I could really use this."

"I think they erased some of the things on it that they didn't think you should see, but they kept all the main things on it that you might find handy to use."

"Awesome. Thank you, Sir."

"And James," the teacher added, "If you ever need to talk or if you need anything at all, you come to me, alright?"

James wasn't surprised at Mr. Lang's kindness. He had always treated James as a valued student, with respect and dignity. It wasn't like they were best buddies or anything, but he never made James feel like he wasn't worthy. In fact almost all of his teachers seemed to like him well enough. They just paid a lot more attention to the elite students from proper families.

At any rate, James felt quite content at school. It had always been a place where he enjoyed the experience of mental growth which gave him a sense of power and hope that someday he might be set free from the custodial prison of his dad and brother. But that wasn't his worry anymore. They were gone from his life and although he'd never be warmed by his mother's smile again, he kept her sweetness close to his heart to help him be strong.

When the court date finally arrived, there were representatives from all of the families who had supported him during the past weeks there to observe and to root for him. Liz and Charlie Fiore were there, of course, as the family who wanted guardianship of James. Charlie's mother was also there as well Susan McGregor and Detective Sanchez. It was a school day and so Nelson, Rick and Maggie were unable to make it, but all three had signed a letter of support which was handed to him as he sat quietly behind his potential guardians.

To Kendra Smith's surprise, Carla and Fred Waters showed up dressed in attire so completely contrary to their normal style that it gave them some concern. Carla wore a simple black dress with a short tailored blue plaid jacket and black pumps. Her husband was dressed in a dark brown suit with a pastel green shirt and a tan tie; not particularly contemporary, but clean and tidy nonetheless. It was obvious to both Kendra and Detective Sanchez that the couple's intent was to deceive the judge into thinking that they were nothing less than model citizens who had the best interest of the boy at heart.

Questions were asked to the Waters about their jobs, the type of environment they could offer and about the history of their relationship with James. If noses could really grow with lies, theirs would have been well protruding from their faces. Then, the questioned turned to the Fiore's. The judge was aware of how they came to know James and how it was the destruction of their own home weeks before that brought all the people on their side of the court together.

After more than an hour of back and forth discussion and several short speeches by members of each family, the judge "While I appreciate the powerful efforts the Fiore's have made to encourage and to support James Varnas, I also see that Mr. and Mrs. Waters have shown a genuine desire to give their nephew a quality, stable environment. Weighing the extended family against good folks who only recently got to know the boy, I find it extremely difficult to make this decision because it is very clear that both families have only the best intentions in giving James a good home,"

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. The Fiore's feared that Carla and Fred Waters had successfully deceived the judge into thinking they actually cared about James and weren't merely interested tax breaks associated with an additional dependent.

The judge was just about to give his verdict when the clerk stepped up to the bench. A police officer had entered the court and approached the place where Carla and Fred Waters were sitting, "It seems," the judge said, "That my decision has just been simplified. Mrs. Waters, it appears that there was enough evidence found on a security camera in the home of Stacey Angelica Mendez, the elderly woman who was your elder care client, to allow for an arrest in a case that relates to some stolen valuables from her home. Mrs. Waters, you are under arrest," and as the officer handcuffed Carla, he read her rights to her. Fred didn't even go after her as she called out to him to call a lawyer before being taken away.

A roar of cheers and applause filled the courtroom after the judge declared the Fiores guardians to James. Like children, they jumped up and down, hugging each other while happy tears flowed down their cheeks. James was shaken, but this time, it wasn't from fear, but rather from the relief he felt all the way down to the tips of his toes.

"Can I go home with you guys?" he asked of Charlie.

"You bet." He said as he clutched the hands of Julie and Tom Richmond. In the short time James was with Julie and Tom, they had already become fond of the boy, but they understood that this was what the boy wanted and so they gave up their rights with joyful acceptance.

Charlie called Rick before he left school and asked him to bring Maggie and Nelson with him, advising him that Susan and his grandparents would already be there. When James got out of the car, he heard Rick's horn beeping half way down the block before it, too, pulled into the driveway.

As tall as James was, Rick was as tall and a bit stronger. He lifted the boy up with a bear hug then dropped him to his feet saying, "Welcome home, little brother!"

It was so much more than a hug to James. Rick's words felt warm and safe like the solidarity of family; something he had never known before. The boy was barely released from Rick's grip when Maggie and Nelson nearly smothered him with affection.

"Aww, now you're gunna have to get lectures from mom, just like I do," Rick continued, "She'll be on your case if you play your music too loud or if you're on the phone too long with Nelson."

James gave Rick a more serious look as though he suddenly felt a bit intimidated.

"Come on, kid, I'm just playing with you," Rick laughed, "Mom's a piece of cake. The only thing you'll need to worry about is if you forget her birthday or Mother's Day. Moms are really picky about stuff like that."

"Like bringing her a rose on Valentine's Day?" James asked remembering his mom.

"Yeah, like that." Rick said not understanding the true meaning behind James' words.

So, everyone got out of the cold and went inside to share a hot meal and stories of the day before Susan and he kids went home. Rick called out to Maggie before the car pulled out, "I'll see you on Saturday, Maggie. Don't forget."

As soon as the McGregor's got inside their house, Nelson called James, "Hey, Can we go skating on Saturday?"

With all James had gone through, the boy could have easily brushed off his young friend's request, but instead, he welcomed the idea and let Nelson know that he looked forward to it. He knew that Nelson had come a long way from being the browbeaten kid he once was. As he looked up to Rick, he understood that Nelson looked up to him; a responsibility James embraced with the full realization that he'd have to work hard to earn that admiration.
CHAPTER 18

Late in the afternoon, Liz Fiore was rolling out the dough for chocolate chip cookies when she heard the puppies yapping. They had been given a new space in what eventually would become a TV room after they were adopted out. Sugar was done weaning the puppies and was scheduled to be spayed within the month. Nelson got his pick, naming his selection Wolf-hunter after the name James had given to him, but which he outgrew in recent weeks, and the remaining pups would be gone by the weekend.

Liz realized that the ringing of the phone was causing the alert pups to react so she picked it up in their space instead of the kitchen so that she could calm them down in the process. Quickly, the energized pups turned their attention to the treat filled ball Liz through in their direction.

"Mrs. Fiore?" the voice asked, "This is Jud Brightbart from over at the Tremont Savings and Loan."

"Yes, this is she. How can I help you?"

"Mrs. Fiore, do you have a boy named James Varnas living with you?"

"Yes, we are his guardians."

"Did you know he was coming down here to open a savings account?"

"No, I know he had a few dollars, but I didn't know he planned to open an account with it."

"Ma'am, it's a lot more than a few dollars."

"I'm sorry. What do you mean?"

"I mean it's over six thousand dollars. Normally, we don't question folks who come in to open an account, but he's just a kid and there was no adult with him. He said he's almost fifteen, but he had no ID on him. We're holding him here..."

Before he could finish, Liz interjected, "What do you mean, you're 'holding' him?"

"Oh, no ma'am, I don't mean like in handcuffs or anything. We just asked him to wait here until we contacted you; just to be sure it was okay. He didn't seem to mind. He's waiting in my office right now."

"I'll be right there. Tell him I'm on my way and, Mr. Brightbart, please tell him that everything's fine. I don't want him to worry."

"Okay, Mrs. Fiore. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Liz couldn't imagine where James would get that kind of money. All sorts of dubious thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my God, she thought, I hope he didn't steal it. Of course he didn't, she argued with herself. But how else could he come to have such a lot of money. We certainly didn't give it to him and he never mentioned anything to us. Her stomach was in knots by the time she went inside the bank.

James stood up when Liz entered the office, "It's my money," he said, "I got it from my mother."

Mrs. Fiore took him aside, just a few feet away from where Mr. Brightbart was sitting in the large office, "But sweetheart, you never mentioned any money and the estate is still in probate."

James didn't understand anything about the estate. His only vision of an estate was a mansion on a hill in some wealthy community. He had no idea what the word meant to him.

"It was my mothers. She left a box in the house and I found it when I went over there with Mrs. Richmond. I swear, it's my money. She would have wanted me to have it,"

Liz tried to be understanding, "I'm sure it is your money, James sweetheart, but I just don't understand why you never told us about it. It doesn't make sense."

"You don't believe me!" James said defiantly, "You think I stole it or something!"

Making every effort to remain unruffled, Liz continued, "I do believe you, James, but let's just take this money home for now until we can determine a little more information about it, okay?"

The boy reluctantly agreed, but he felt profoundly betrayed. He didn't think that she really believed him and he was sure this would be the beginning of the end of his new life in a normal family. Liz thanked the banker for calling her and she drove James home where Rick had just gotten back from studying with Maggie at her house.

"Hey, little brother," he greeted James, "I heard you aced the exam today. Congratulations!"

But James' only response was to go to his room and shut the door.

"What's up with him?" he asked his mother.

"Long story," she said without expanding as she followed James and knocked on his door, "James, please, I want to talk to you. I believe you, James. I just want to talk to you about it."

Grudgingly, James opened the door and immediately retreated to his bed. Sitting against the head board, he lowered his head in pouting silence.

Liz sat on the corner of the bed and reached her hand out to rest on the boy's tightly folded arms, "Tell me about the box," she said, "Was there anything else inside?"

"A bible and a note pad," he scowled.

"Can I see the notepad?" she asked

"Mom wrote things down in it," he said, "Private things."

"Like a diary?"

"I don't know. Just things she was feeling."

"Please, James, I just want to help. Do you trust me?"

It took James what seemed like forever to answer, but he finally looked her straight in her eyes with a stoic stare, remembering how she described her pain, "Yes, ma'am, but her words are private."

"Alright, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to hold on to the money for you, James. I want to talk to Mr. Fiore and ask him what he thinks we should do. It's a lot of money, sweetheart, and I just want to be sure. Everything in my heart tells me that this money must belong to you. I don't think for a minute that you would steal anything, but you have to understand, James, that money like this doesn't just appear. It just doesn't make sense, sweetheart."

Although it might have helped James to show the notebook to Liz, he felt it might be disloyal to his mom to reveal her most personal anguish. Besides, after reading how she was beaten, the Fiore's might blame him for not standing up for his mom more. They might hate him and think him to be a coward. So after Liz left his room, he tucked the notebook under his mattress for safety.

Liz made a call to Julie Richmond after she left James to his own despair in his room. There were remnants of tears moistening her eyes because she wanted more than to give James the comfort and safety he so deserved, but six thousand dollars was too much money to have gone undeclared, she thought, before now. Why would he not have shouted it from the rooftops if he found such a stash at his mom's house?

Think of all the things he could have purchased with it if he wanted to. Anyone would be ecstatic if they suddenly came upon thousands of dollars that they could claim for their own. It was James' silence that allowed suspicion to creep into her mind and she felt horribly guilty for letting them surface.

"Hey Julie," Liz said, "How are you doing?"

"Just find girlfriend and you?"

"Well, I want to ask you something about James."

"Sure. What is it?"

"When you took him to pick up things from his mom's house, did he find a box under a floor board there?"

"It was the darndest thing, Liz. He went right to the laundry room and told me he had seen his mom put something underneath the floorboard several times, but he said he never checked it out for fear that his mother would get angry with him if he got caught. I think she was the only support he had and he didn't want to damage her trust. That kid loved her so darn much, Liz. It's a tragedy what that boy's been through."

"What was in the box?"

"Well, I don't know exactly. He said he wanted to wait until he got home to open it. I assume it might have been some papers or maybe some family jewelry or something that she didn't want her husband to sell. I never asked him. To tell the truth, until you just called me, I forgot all about it."

"Thanks, Julie. I guess I'll just wait and see what Charlie says when he gets home."

"What happened, Liz? Were there drugs in there or something?"

"No, thank God, but I'm not sure if it might not cause the same amount of trouble. I mean, if what he says is true, everything should be alright, but I'm just not sure he's telling the truth."

"What did he say?"

"I'd rather not say, Julie. I think it would be wrong of me to talk about it, especially not knowing all the facts. I think I'll look into it further before I jump to conclusions. Sorry."

"Hey, I understand. You're right to keep it between you and James until you know more, but I'll tell you one thing. I don't think that boy ever once lied to us, not about anything. He seems like a really sweet boy, Liz. His mother must have been something else for him to turn out so different from his dad and his brother."

"That's true. He really is a good boy. Thanks for the information, Julie. I've got to go, but I'll talk to you later."

"Sure. You take care now."

Nothing more was said to James that night and Charlie came home exhausted from a Murphy's Law type of day and so Liz decided to wait before speaking to him until the next day. In the morning, although Liz fixed her usual breakfast for James and she hugged him before he boarded the bus for school; few words were spoken between them. Rick knew enough to stay out of it until his mother gave a signal that she wouldn't become irritated if he brought it up and so he just fist bumped James and asked him if he'd like to ride to school with him.

"No thanks," James replied, "Nelson might have a fit if I don't show up on the bus."

"Okay then," Rick said accepting the excuse, but he reminded James, "Any time you want to hitch a ride with me, just say the word."

Meanwhile, Mr. Lang asked James to stop by his classroom if he had time before he got on the bus, "Is everything okay, son?" Mr. Lang asked, "You were really quiet in class today."

"Yes sir. I'm fine."

"Take a seat. I want to show you something."

James assumed he was in trouble. Maybe Mrs. Fiore had called Mr. Lang and told him the he was a thief. It ran through his mind that everyone would always consider his brother and dad when they looked at him and never see him for his true self. Of course, Mr. Lang had never done that before, but maybe everything was going to change now that he was in trouble with his new guardians or so he thought.

Mr. Lang laid a paper down on the desk where James was seated, "Look, you did pretty well on that test you took for Billings. In fact, it was the highest score in the entire tested group of one hundred and twenty-two kids. That's a guarantee that you'll be accepted."

Astonished that he scored so high and astounded that Mr. Lang didn't say anything about the money, James was nearly at a loss for words. He picked up the test and studied it as though he was looking for a mistake.

"It's for real, James," Mr. Lang said, "Doors could be opened for you that you never dreamed of."

But James had only visions of despair traveling hopelessly through his mind. Surely Mr. Fiore will want him to leave their house after Mrs. Fiore tells him what happened.

"So," Mr. Lang asked," What do you think?"

It took a minute for James to respond, but he finally said, "I don't know, Sir. I think I have to think about it?"

"Think about what?" his teacher was a bit dumbfounded.

"Uh, I don't know, Mr. Lang. I just have to think about things," and James stood up, leaving the test where it had been laid, "I got to go. Thanks." And James left the room.

He was about to get on the bus when he thought about it and decided to head for the arcade instead. He didn't call Mrs. Fiore to tell her he'd be late and since Rick had driven to school, he didn't know that James never boarded the bus.

At first, Liz was so busy preparing dinner for her family that she didn't even notice that James wasn't already home when Rick arrived, but Rick noticed that James wasn't there, "Hey, where's my little brother?"

"Oh, my gosh," she said, "He's not here. He never came home from school."

Rick wasn't sure how his mom would take his intrusion, but he couldn't resist asking, "So, what happened between you two yesterday?"

"It was nothing." She lied as Charlie came through the door, "I have to talk to your father."

Reluctantly, Rick went to his room to leave his mom and dad the privacy it had been made clear they needed, "Okay, but I'm part of this family, too, ya know."

"What's the matter," Charlie asked his wife while she lead him into the room they had given to James and coaxed him to sit down on James' bed.

"I got a call yesterday from Jud Brightbart over at the savings and loan. James was trying to set up a savings account for himself for over six thousand dollars."

"My Lord," He said, "Where in the world did he ever get that kind of money?"

"That's the point. I don't know. He said it was in a box he and Julie found underneath a floor board in James' house, but it just seemed so crazy to me. Why wouldn't he have told us about it?"

"Why didn't you tell me about this last night is what I want to know."

Liz shook her head in dismay, "Oh, you seemed so stressed after work yesterday that I thought I'd let it go until today. I thought maybe, well, maybe something would happen to straighten this whole thing out and I wouldn't even have to tell you."

"So, where is he?"

Her head hung low, "That's it. He never came home from school today."

"What?" her husband's alarm caused his voice to raise, "Have you called the police?"

"Of course not," she said, "He probably just, well, I don't know, Anyway, it's only been a couple of hours and we don't know if he ran away or anything. He probably just went somewhere to think."

"Well, I'm going out to look for him. What did you do with the money?"

"I put it in our safe. I thought we might be able to convince him to tell us what really happened if we just give him a chance."

Just then, Rick came out of his room and heard his dad saying that he was going to look for James, "Hey, I'm coming too."

"Meanwhile, look through the room and see if you can find anything," Charlie said to his wife.

"I asked him if I could read the notebook he also found in the box, but he said no," She looked around the room, "and I don't know where he put it."

"Well, just look anyway," Charlie said, "Tear the room apart if you have to. There has to be something in here to give us a hint of what might have happened."

So, Rick and his dad drove back to the school to see if anyone was still there who might have seen James. The school was still open with a number of faculty still preparing lessons in their classrooms.

"Mr. Lang," Rick asked, "Have you seen James?"

"Why yes. He stopped by before leaving for the bus. I was going to call you," and Mr. Land handed the test to Charlie, "He scored the highest of all the applicants. He did fantastic."

"Super," Rick said, "did you see him get on the bus?"

"No. I stayed here. I've been in the class ever since school let out."

Charlie asked, "Did he give you any indication that he might go somewhere else other than home?"

"Well, he didn't seem like himself. When I told him that he could probably write his own ticked to Billings, he barely reacted. He said he'd have to think about it. Is everything alright?"

"We don't know. He might have run away." Charlie said.

"Or he might have just gone somewhere to think." Rick countered his dad.

"Well, let's get back out there," Charlie said, "Let's find that boy"

"Try the arcade," Rick suggested, "He used to hang out there with his friend a lot before he moved away."

So they stopped and talked to the owner of the arcade who had seen James, but said he had left quite some time before. The owner hadn't noticed anything odd or strange about the boy except that he wasn't his normally talkative self.

Mr. Fiore and his son drove up and down the streets of Tremont, imagining that he couldn't be too far away from the school unless he hitched a ride, which they trusted he was too smart to do. They stopped a few times to get out and search the alley ways between some of the stores, but no sign of James.

Back at home, Mrs. Fiore was convinced that finding the notebook was the key to both understanding what might be going on in James' head and, hopefully, it might give a clue as to where James got the money. She began to go through the drawers in his dresser, but found nothing. She saw the bible he mentioned on top of his bookshelf, but for the moment, she disregarded it and continued to search his closet, under his bed and the small storage bench under the window where he often sat to read.

Frustrated at the illusiveness of the notebook, Liz stood by the bed ready to collapse face down on it when something scratched her knee. She saw the tiny corner of something that appeared to be some sort of book. She lifted the mattress to see the thin notebook barely tucked under it. For a moment, guilt kept her from looking inside, but then she justified her intrusion with the urgency of the situation. Tears filled her eyes as she read about James' mother's beatings. It was clear that she loved James so deeply that she sacrificed her own safety to stay in the home where she could keep an eye on her son. She wrote about the dreams she had for James and she stressed how important Father Joseph was in giving her the strength to go on.

Liz took the cell phone from her pocket and called her husband, "Any sign of him, yet?"

"No, Dear. We've looked everywhere. We talked to one of his teachers and we went to the arcade and talked to the owner there. Both had seen him at one time or another, but they both said he left with no indication as to where he was going."

"Did you try his house," she asked.

Charles looked at Rick in the passenger seat, "His house. We never looked at his house."

"Honey," Charles said to his wife, "We're headed there now."

"Make sure you look inside." She added.

"Isn't it locked?" Charles asked.

"James must have a key. If he went inside, I'm sure he didn't lock the door behind him. Remember, he often went to the arcade after school and walked home. I don't know why we didn't think of that before." And it suddenly occurred to Liz, although she didn't say anything about it, that James walked to the bank that day because it was close to school and to his house, but he must not have thought about it being too far for him to walk back to the Fiore house after his business was done. If Mr. Brightbart hadn't called, James would have had a very long walk home.

Mr. Fiore and Rick tested the door at James' house. Pieces of the yellow tape still draped the rails of the entrance steps. With a gentle push, the door opened and the two walked through the rooms quietly calling James' name without a response. They entered one bedroom after another until they saw a figure sitting on the floor against the wall of the third room, his knees drawn close to his torso with his head buried in his arms that were folded around them.

Charles sat down next to James and rested his arm around the boy, "James, you had us so worried. Why did you come here?" but no answer

Rick sat down on the other side of James, "Hey, I guess we'll just sit here with you for a while. So, this was your room, huh?"

He tried to make a joke of it, "Not much furniture around here. Talk about living lean."

James raised his head, revealing the tears that filled his face, "My aunt took it all."

"So, did you think you were going to move back in?" Charles asked with a gentle smile, "Start all over, buy new furniture."

"You guys won't want me anymore. Mrs. Fiore thinks I'm a thief anyway."

This was the first Rick had heard any evidence of what might have started this whole thing, but he determined it wouldn't be the best time to express his surprise. He allowed his dad to continue the exchange rather than risk blurting out something that might aggravate it.

"No one thinks you're a thief, James. We just wondered why you never told us about the money and, I admit, we found it a little strange that you'd suddenly come up with so much of it."

"I found it in the box my mom put underneath the floor. I kept the money in my backpack for weeks, but I got to thinking that I'd like to save it in a bank so I might go to college someday. Guess I blew it, huh?"

Still confused about why James' mother would leave such a big bundle of cash in a box beneath her floor board, Charles decided to let it go for now and just get the boy back home, "Come on, James. Let's go home. You are part of our family, now, and I've got to tell you, we don't give up on family very easily. You are important to us. And, yes, we love you. So, let's go home and get some dinner. Liz probably has it all warmed up so we can sit down and have a nice family meal."

Rick added, "Yeah, I'm starving. I've gotten used to having my kid brother sitting across from me now and you don't want to mess up my karma now would you?"

"You still want me to live in your house?" James asked through his tears.

"Absolutely." Charles said and he lifted the boy up, keeping his arm tightly around the boy as the three walked back outside to dive home.

On the way, Rick called his mom and told her to expect them. Her relief could be heard loudly through the phone. She was at the front door to greet them when they arrived, "Come here." She said, and she guided them into James' bedroom. She sat on the bed with the notebook in hand.

"I'm so sorry, James, but I was so worried that I had to read it. I hope with everything I am that you'll forgive me."

But James wept more profusely than before, "I didn't stand up for her. I let her down." He cried.

Liz wrapped her arms around him, "Oh, my God, no, James. You were what kept her strong. You were everything to her. She loved you so much and, look, look what I found in the Bible. It was your Bible, James. She got it when you were baptized and she left a note in it. Look. It explains about the money."

James' eyes were too red and swollen to see the wording and so Liz took it upon herself through her own tears to read the letter from Kathy.

MY DEAREST JAMES, it read, YOU ARE MY LIFE AND ALL THE BREATH THAT'S IN ME. YOU ARE MY HOPE AND MY BIGGEST JOY. I PUT ASIDE SOME MONEY FOR YOU, SON, BIT BY BIT, FROM EACH PAYCHECK SO THAT YOU CAN GO TO COLLEGE. THIS IS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION DAY AND I WANT TO LET YOU KNOW HOW PROUD I AM OF YOU. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE, DEAR JAMES, AND I KNOW THAT GOD WILL PUT A PATH BEFORE YOU AND HE WILL GUIDE YOU TO A SUCCESSFUL LIFE FAR FROM THE SORROW YOU HAVE KNOWN ALL THESE YEARS. WITH MY DEEPEST EVERLASTING LOVE, MOM.

"She planned to give it to you when you graduated from Tremont, James," Liz wept, "I'm so sorry I ever doubted you. I am the one who need your forgiveness, James. Can you ever forgive me?"

No one except his mother had ever apologized to James for anything. He was overcome with this strange role reversal, never imagining that anyone would look to him for forgiveness. He hugged Liz back and then Charles and Rick joined in, all four of them wiping away their tears.

Now Rick understood what the whole issue had been about and when he saw James' courage through it all, he admired the boy more than ever, "Hey, James," he said, "Maybe you could clue me in to on next adventure before taking off, okay? I don't like showing my sensitive side so much, you know." Bringing a smile to the boy who merely said, "Hey, I'm hungry."
CHAPTER 19

It was the day before the kids got out of school for Easter vacation. Maggie sat with Rick eating their cafeteria meal when she brought up the Good Friday service at church, "So, will you come with me to church tomorrow night?"

"Whoa," Rick replied, "Church, huh, how come it's on Friday?"

"It's Good Friday, silly," she said, "Like it's the day Jesus was killed on the cross."

"Heavy. Aww, I don't know. I'm not sure I wanna hear about all that."

"Come on. You've been promising me you'd give it a try forever and I can't think of a better service to introduce you to my church."

"Hey, we went there on New Year's Eve, remember?"

Maggie laughed, "That was a party, not a real service."

"There was too a service," Rick insisted.

"Barely," Maggie teased, "it was over in twenty minutes and then we all went down and stuffed our faces."

She was about to give up when Rick finally said, "Well, I really do want to learn more about all this God stuff. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll be..."he raised the palms of his hands in the air, "enlightened."

"Awesome," Maggie said, "Hey, Nelson is coming. Do you think he can talk James into coming, too?"

"Now that's asking a lot. You think I know very little about the Bible. I think James might actually be afraid of it. He's barely touched the Bible his mom left him, at least I think. I've never seen him read it."

"Have you read any of it?" Maggie asked.

"I skimmed through some of it. I learned a little about Moses and I read some of the Psalms, but not much more than that."

"You never read any of the New Testament?"

"Not yet," he smiled as though he just got caught not doing his homework, "but I planned to."

"You're making fun of me," she said.

"Aww, no, sweet Maggie, I'd never do that," he said more seriously, "I'm really interested. Heck, knowing you and how you are, all that Bible stuff sure made you something really special."

"I think this service will inspire you to read more," Maggie coaxed.

"I'm sure you're right," he said, "and I'll mention to James that you and I are going and if Nelson doesn't want to drive in with his mom, he and James can come with us."

Maggie's eyes lit up, "You mean it? That would be awesome. Nelson always feels like such a mama's boy when he has to go with her and if James came, Nelson would be really psyched."

"Okay then. I guess I'll talk to James tonight. I don't think my dad will go, but my mom might want to go with your mom."

Squeezing Rick's hand across the table, Maggie nearly sang the word 'awesome' again before they finished their lunch and returned to classes. That night Rick convinced James that going to church would offer much needed encouragement to Nelson who hated it more each year that he had to tag along with his mother. James couldn't relate too well to a mandate of attending church, but he liked the idea of being moral support to his friend.

As the service began, with the chapel dimmed, showing the twelve disciples represented by twelve candles with a large candle in the middle expressive of the light of Christ, James listened carefully to the story of our Savior's crucifixion. He became emotional as the story explained how Christ had been betrayed and how Jesus gave his life so that others could live, especially when the center candle was extinguished leaving total darkness in the chapel until someone turned on the lights at the end of the service.

Although the concept wasn't clear to him, the fact that Pastor Agnes spoke about how Jesus' death would allow other's to live gave him reason enough to envision the terrible cross where Christ suffered and died. In his mind, for whatever reason, the man Jesus was gone, but he supposed that somehow the memory of Christ's profound sacrifice is what allowed the story itself to survive so long. It reminded him of his mother and how she had been betrayed and how she gave her life trying to save her son even as he denied every value she held dear. Pastor Agnes spoke of what was to come, but it was more than James could grasp. This 'grace' stuff, he thought, was something else. Pretty darn powerful. For the first time, James began to recognize his mother's relationship with God. She learned from Him, he pondered, and although Father Joseph was an important part of her life, it was the power of God which gave her the real strength. He imagined that Father Joseph had been a place of comfort where she could discuss her pain and receive his support.

When the service was over, James asked Maggie "Is that all there is? He dies?"

She replied, "Oh no, James, the next chapter is way better. Do you want to come again to service on Easter Sunday.

He thought for a moment, "Yeah, I do. Is it okay?"

Maggie looked over at Rick, "You, too?"

He nodded and Maggie smiled at Rick and at Nelson in the back seat, "Looks like it'll be the four of us again for Easter. I'll bet mom has already invited your mom and dad to dinner, Rick."

Rick spent Saturday with his Little Brother from the Big Brother Big Sister program. Since Maggie had come into his life, her name came up in his thoughts just about every minute, but his commitment to the program was steadfast. On occasion, Adam's mom would take him to visit her parents in Oregon, but other than that, Rick saw the boy at least once a week.

Nelson was on the phone with James a good part of the day, making jokes about the Easter Bunny and planning their escape immediately after dinner while Maggie helped her mom put together Easter Baskets which would be handed out to everyone on Easter Sunday. It was, after all, the first time both families would attend Easter service together and then share the holiday meal. Once in a while Liz had gone to church with Maggie and the kids since they had met in December, but attending the Good Friday service was the first time Rick and James went to church since the New Year's party. Maggie was particularly delighted that they showed a genuine interest in learning more about what really happened two thousand years ago that was powerful enough to continue the story for all these centuries.

So, Maggie and Susan filled the baskets with decorated hard boiled eggs and chocolate bunnies. Figuring that Charles and Tony would choose to give the eggs to the kids, but keep their chocolate, they added a few chocolate cordials to the adult male baskets while adding extra Hershey eggs to the rest. When they were done, they ran the vacuum and made sure the house was in tip top shape for their guests. Proud of their efforts, at day's end, Susan and her two children watched The Greatest Story Ever Told for the umpteenth time before retiring to their separate rooms to sleep.

Easter morning arrived with sunny, blue skies. It was late April and the faint scent of cherry blossoms penetrated the breeze. The Fiore's and James arrived early, only a short time before it was time to head out to the church.

How amazingly handsome, Susan thought as she observed the sweet vision of James in a robin's egg blue suite and crisp white shirt. She was sure it was the first time James had ever worn a suit and, by golly, he looked as proud as a rooster in a hen house, carrying himself with such a mature posture as he opened Rick's car door for Maggie and Nelson. Susan joined the Fiore's in their car as they shared stories of past Easter's along the way.

People were still filing into the church when they arrived. James' jaw dropped at the sight of a saturation of white Lilies that decorated the sanctuary. Although for most services about two thirds of the pews were filled, on this day folding chairs were set up in the back of the chapel to accommodate the overflow. Rick expected the big crowd, but it was so new to James that he found the array of color both in people's attire and in the church utterly wonderful. He was a bit startled when, even before the service officially began, the entire congregation burst out in traditional harmony with 'Christ the Lord is Risen Today...Hallelujah.'

He listened carefully to the story as Pastor James revealed it. How could a man actually come back to life, he wondered. It wasn't like ghost or anything, but he actually walked the earth and the disciples touched his skin. While he understood the words, he still couldn't comprehend the notion that there could be real life after death. He wondered if his mother was up there in heaven with God. If that were the case, she might be okay after all. According to what was said, she'd be safe up there and no one could ever hurt her again. A little smile appeared on James' face, almost as a sign of relief. He found himself wanting to know more about Jesus. He wanted to know how it all started and what led up to his crucifixion, not just from what he learned about His last few days, but about His whole life.

When the service was over, James was noticeably more high-spirited, "So how come they don't teach about Jesus in school?" he asked Maggie who sat in the front seat next to Rick.

Maggie thought for a moment, "Good question. They teach about Julius Caesar and Socrates, both from the same time period, but not about Jesus who had far more historical impact than either one of the others. I suspect it might be because a lot of people are afraid of the challenges that come hand in hand with accepting His life."

"Yeah, enter my brother and my dad."

"Well," Maggie said, "It's a shame that the opportunity to learn about Jesus was kept from you, but you've done a great job in following a lot of the principles of the Bible anyway. You're a good kid, James."

"Maybe, but if it weren't for my mom, I could have ended up just like them."

Maggie turned to the back seat to look directly into James' eyes, "I don't think so, James. Your mom was a great woman who loved you so much, but one of the reasons I think she did love you so much is that she saw the good in you. It was already there and she did everything she could possibly do to encourage it and to keep you safe in that really difficult environment so that you could fulfill your dreams someday."

"Speaking of which," Rick added, "Mom said that before we go back home this afternoon, we can stop by your mom's grave for a bit. Pastor Agnes gave her one of the big plants from church so you can remember her by putting it on her grave."

"Cool." James replied, "Mom would like that. I wish I had a red rose to give her. I always got her a red rose on Valentine's Day."

"I tell you what," Rick said, "I'm taking my Little Brother Adam to a practice little league game the Saturday after we go back to school. You and Nelson can come with us. You'll like him. He's the cutest little guy you ever saw and he'd like meeting you, I think. After the game we can stop by your mother's grave with a rose and then go out to eat somewhere."

"Fantastic!" Nelson blurted, "Where we go' in to eat?"

Then, the two boys in the back seat grinned at each other, emphatically stating in unison, "Pizza!"

Getting back to the subject of Jesus, James asked, "So, can Rick and I come to church again with you guys?"

This time, Rick was the one who was taken by surprise, "Wow, gosh, who knew that you would have liked church so much."

"Well, I think Jesus is pretty interesting. I'd like to know more about him."

Maggie looked back at James again, "You," then, she turned to Rick, emphasizing the conjunction, "and Rick are welcomed to come with us to church anytime at all, but don't you have a Bible, James?"

Remembering the box he found beneath the floorboards in his home, "Oh yeah, I've got the one my mom left me. It's kind of hard to read, though. It's got all fancy words in it."

"I think I can find a Bible at home I can give you that might be a bit easier to read if you want and I think I even have a dictionary of Biblical terms and words that I can loan you to help you understand some of the more confusing parts."

"I'd like that," James said confidently, "Thanks, Maggie."

"Oh brother," Nelson chimed in, "I hope you don't turn into my mom."

"What's wrong with your mom," James teased his friend.

"She always reminds us that we shouldn't say this or we shouldn't do that. She can't seem to stop lecturing us about what Jesus would do."

"Oh well. Wolf-Slayer, I guess you'll just have to read the Bible, too, so you can keep up with me."

Nelson slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, "I should never have let you meet my mom. I've created a monster." But James knew that Nelson loved his mom more than anything and that even with his constant complaining about her nagging, she raised a boy who reflected all the positive things James had come to know in her.

Then, to rub it in even more, James teased Nelson, "Who knows, maybe I'll become a minister like Pastor Agnes someday."

The two vehicles pulled into the McGregor's about the same time. Maggie quickly disappeared into her bedroom to search for her youth Bible she planned to give to James, then, returned to the living room where the two families had gathered, "Here." She said to James, "Consider it an early birthday present."

"Hey, how did you know?"

"A little birdie told me," Maggie said, "named Liz who happens to have a copy of your birth certificate. You're a Taurus. Patient, strong and smart."

"Yeah right." James laughed, "Like I'm patient."

Amused, Rick added, "I notice you only disagreed with the word 'patient'. So I guess you think you're pretty strong and smart."

Nelson couldn't disagree, "Duh, like he's the strongest kid I know. Except for you, of course, and if he can teach math to me, he's got to be pretty darn smart."

"Speaking of being smart in math," Susan interrupted, "James, have you given any thought to going to Billings?"

"Uh, yeah, I have, Mrs. McGregor."

She affectionately interrupted before he could answer, "When are you ever going to get used to calling me Liz?"

"Right. It's just that, well, it's hard to call an adult by their first name."

With that, all the adults chuckled and Liz remarked, "No one can tell me that Kathy Varnas didn't bring up a well-mannered son."

"My gosh," grandpa Tony chortled, "I think we've got ourselves a politician here."

"No way," James responded, "All those guys do is lie to get elected and then they bribe people to do what they want."

"Whoa," Charles said, "I knew you were smart, but who knew you were that smart." And everyone laughed again.

"What do you want to do?" Susan asked almost forgetting her original question.

"Hmm," James answered, "Well, I know you guys, especially Detective Sanchez, did a lot to get me into Billings and I really, really appreciate all that, but if it's okay with everyone, I'd really like to stay at Tremont until I graduate," Then, he turned to his friend Nelson, "I think Wolf-Slayer here might be lost without me if I went away to school. Besides, I've actually made some new friends there and I'd miss them if I didn't see them every day."

"It must be a girl." Grandpa Tony said, "James must have a girl friend."

"Nah, there's no girlfriend, Sir. I've got some girl friends," he tried desperately to make clear, "I mean, they're friends of mine, but no one like a," and he put up his hands to form quotes, "girlfriend."

"So, do you have any idea what you'll do after you graduate, James?" a persistent Grandpa Tony asked.

James turned his eyes to Rick, "Well, I thought about becoming a lawyer like Rick, but I think I'd really like starting up one of those Mathnasium places for the kids in my old neighborhood. Maybe I can give them a chance to find an alternative to all the gangs there."

"Isn't Billings a good start for something like that?" Liz asked.

"Yes, but my math teacher said that even if I don't go to Billings, my scores were high enough to get me accepted to a lot of good colleges after I graduate. He said that I could use the scores from Billings to help me get into a school like Texas A&M maybe."

"Whoa." Rick exclaimed, "That's a great school, but it's pretty darn far away. How in the world did you hear about that place?"

"Mr. Lang. He went there. He thinks my idea of starting a Mathnasium is a great idea."

"Well," Susan added, "You wouldn't make a lot of money doing that, but it sure would be an honorable thing to do. It shows you really care about the kids who don't normally have a decent chance in life."

James hesitated in his shyness, "It's just something I'm thinking about really. I still have a couple of years to go before I even graduate. I mean, I hope to go to college and all and I got the idea of starting a Mathnasium from Detective Sanchez. Sounded like something I could do for some of the kids in the neighborhood. A lot of them don't stand much of a chance at getting out if they don't get some help, you know?"

Liz replied, "My Lord, we've been interrogating this poor boy. I hope you know, James, it's just that we are so darn proud of you."

"Thank you, Ma'am,"

"Susan, how in the world do we get James to call us by our first names? My gosh, he's been living with us for months now and he still calls me ma'am" she jokingly asked her friend.

Susan sighed, "Oh, I don't know, but I think dinner is probably ready anyway. Let's all sit down at the table."

So, the two families enjoyed laughter and conversation for several house on that joyful Easter Sunday. After their meal and a long walk in the blossom filled neighborhood, the Fiore's took James to lay flowers on his mother's grave. He hadn't thought about going there since she died. For the months in between, he had been adjusting to his new life and studying hard to take his mind off his loss.

Life and death bombarding James caused him to mature much faster than if he hadn't known such a profound mixture of shattered hopes being replaced with opening doors in mere weeks. In December, he had the tall, strong body of someone considerably older, but his wounded heart was that of a young boy in despair. Along the arduous path he walked; however, James became a man whose character had developed in wisdom and courage, far beyond his years.
CHAPTER 20

With the onset of spring, Susan McGregor was busy planting pink miniature hollyhocks along with red and apricot princess roses in her back yard. Wolf was frolicking around the recently fenced in yard as Nelson and James were tossing a Frisbee when suddenly the dog began to pant and whimper. Enthusiastically, he scratched the ground around one of the plants. It turned out that a tiny field mouse was attempting to dig a hole near the roots of the plant, but with the ferociousness of his namesake, Wolf growled, scuffing his feet until the creature ran sped out of sight.

"Good boy!" Nelson said as he ruffled the dog's fir around his face, "Mom, you need to put something on these plants so the critters don't eat them."

"You're right. I some Critter Ridder in the garage that I'll spread around after I'm done."

Continuing to pet the dog, Nelson fiddled with the silver bullet he had taken from his necklace weeks before and placed on Wolf's collar, "It never worked for me. I guess it was meant for you, boy."

"James," Kneeling by the plant, Susan summoned her son's friend, "Look. This will be a red rose bush. I planted it here because this is where..."

But James finished her sentence, "It's the spot where mom fell when she was shot."

Susan touched her hand on James shoulder as he joined her on the ground, "I thought it would be nice to remember her this way. You said you always gave her a red rose on Valentine's Day." Then, she brought out an engraved stepping stone from her garden cart and showed it to James.

SHE IS NOT HERE. SHE IS WITH GOD. BUT HER LOVING MEMORY REMAINS IN EVERY FLOWER THAT BLOOMS.

James reached his arms around Susan, "Thank you, Ma'am. This means a lot to me."

The boys continued to scramble around the lawn, playfully chasing Wolf who would occasionally catch the Frisbee and run with it until one of them would fall flat on his face. Wolf would return, dropping the toy by the fallen body, licking the boy's face all over bringing about a cringe as the slime dripped from the dog's kisses.

Later, Susan made lunch for the boys. James sat down in the kitchen while Nelson was delayed in the bathroom washing his hands and combing the grass from his hair. After placing a plate of grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches in the center of the table, Susan sat down across from James, "You know, I ran into Father Joseph at the supermarket the other day. He asked about you."

"Really? I've been thinking about him, too. I've been wanting to go see him and talk to him about my mom."

"I think he'd come to see you if you wanted. You wouldn't have to go there."

"Yeah, but I'd like to visit mom's grave when I go there, you know?"

"Of course," Susan said, "That would make sense. When the flowers come up, you can pick some to bring to her anytime you want."

"Thanks Mrs. G." the boy said, "You're awesome."

So, Nelson finally finished his primping in the hopes that in some small way at least, he'd resemble the cool and hip James, and after eating lunch the two boys took off to a nearby park to shoot some hoops.

It was about a week later when James asked permission to stop at St. Mary's to see Father Joseph after school. "Sure, call me by five if he can't drive you home and I'll come pick you up. That's only a little over an hour you'll have with him. Is that enough or would you rather I drive you over there at night sometime and you can spend more time?"

"Maybe sometime, but if it's okay, I'd like to see him today anyway."

Sympathetic to the ton of questions James' might have, Liz had no problem allowing James his request. She gave him a hug and reached up to kiss his forehead as she handed him the brown bag lunch to take on the school bus, "Have fun today, dear. Don't forget to call me if Father Joseph can't drive you home."

St. Mary's was nothing like the simple structure of Colonial Baptist. It was considerably larger with multiple towers and far more ornate windows than the church he had been regularly attending. Although he had visited his mother's grave on the grounds, he had never been inside before and it seemed a bit intimidating with the creaking of the large door as he pulled it open. Along the sides of the interior were statues of various saints and near the altar to one side was a figure of the Virgin Mary. James didn't know what he was supposed to do with all of what he perceived to be pomp and circumstance around him and so he found a place to sit among the pews and waited for Father Joseph to appear.

"Ah, James, it's so good to see you," he heard a voice say behind him, "Come, join me in my office. I'm so glad you called me."

Exploring the volumes of books on the shelves around the priest's desk, James remarked, "Man, you don't ever need to go to the library, do you?"

Father Joseph smiled, "These are mostly reference books. Some of them are over a hundred years old, but like you, if I want to read contemporary novels, I still have to go to the library to get them."

"So, what do I call you? I mean, how does that work?"

"Your mom called me Father Joseph or simply Father."

"I'm not real comfortable with that, Sir," the boy brazenly said, but with good intentions.

"Why not?"

"Well, I've been studying the Bible that Maggie McGregor gave me and Jesus said that there is only one Father and He's in heaven. It kind of confuses me cause a lot of kids call their dads father."

Father Joseph was an extraordinarily kind man and he understood how a person outside his faith could take issue with his title and so he put the boy's comfort before decorum, "My family still calls me Joseph and so I guess Joseph would be fine,"

"Okay, sir, uh, I mean, Joseph. Thanks."

The priest invited James to sit in one of the two leather chairs that were placed on either side of a brick enclosed fireplace, "So, how can I help you James?"

The boy rustled around in his seat, "I'd like to know about my mom. She said in a notebook she left me that you helped her somehow."

"Well," Father Joseph replied, "I was here for her when she needed comfort."

"Did she go to church here?"

"When you were very young, yes she did; but once your dad became involved with the Laisves, she was too afraid to attend Mass. Instead, she would come to visit during the day when your dad was working at the shop and you were at school and we would talk. She had great faith, your mother. She was afraid to stop by, but it was her belief in God that drove her to come in spite of it."

"So, does that make me a Catholic?"

Father Joseph smiled, "You were baptized as a Catholic, James, and we thought of you as a member of our church."

"But what if I like the church I'm going to now?"

"James, I am so happy that you are going to church. It wasn't something I predicted for you with the terrible influences within your home, but if you have found comfort in the church you are attending, I think God is pleased with you."

James clarified his relationship with the Baptist Church, "Actually, I kind of look at it as school, you know? It's kind of like going to a history class. I've been reading the bible to learn about what happened back then. I believe my mom is in heaven, I think, but I'm still not sure about a lot of the other stuff."

"What excited you about the church, James?"

"I wouldn't say I was excited, but I was really curious after going to church with Nelson McGregor on Easter. We went to church on Friday and on Sunday. I always knew about God and all, but I only knew what people told me and you can imagine how little I learned at home."

"Oh, your reintroduction to church was on the most holy of days. It must have been so inspiring to hear about how Christ died for our sins and then rose again three days later. How did it make you feel when you heard the story?"

"Whoa, it blew my mind. When this guy allowed himself to be nailed to a cross, man, I thought he was crazy, but after hearing about what happened especially when he came back, I wanted to know more about him."

"Easter was your mother's favorite holiday, even more than Christmas. It was the resurrection that gave her hope."

"We never celebrated any of the holidays at our house."

"Didn't your mother always give you bread and grape juice for dinner on what you now know was the day of Christ's crucifixion?"

"How'd you know that? She always brought home a big loaf of Italian bread and she gave me grape juice and she'd put wine on the table instead of a beer for my dad and my brother."

"She was celebrating the last supper with you, James. She knew that your dad and your brother wouldn't recognize it, but she wanted you to share it with her. The bread symbolized the body of Christ and the grape juice was His blood, just like happened in the Last Supper."

"Man, I never knew why she did that. I always thought she just got tired of the same old food and I never made the connection. Come to think of it, she only did it one day a year. She used to tell dad that she needed the antioxidants in the wine and I always wondered why she didn't always need it. She never drank anything except on that day.

And she always whispered to herself when she gave a piece of bread to me. Seemed to me, she was just trying to make dad think she was so nuts that he'd leave her alone."

A big grin appeared on Father Joseph's face, "Ah, your mother. She was a clever woman. I believe she was whispering the words we say when we give communion 'the body of Christ given for you' the blood of Christ shed for you.'

"What else can you tell me about mom?"

"She loved you more than life, James. She worked long, hard hours to save money for you to go to college. She had so much faith in you."

"How in the world did she end up with dad?"

"When she married him, right here in this church, he was a different man. He showed nothing but admiration for her. He was as smitten as a school boy in those early days, but then he got mixed up with some bad people. He took part in some of their not so legitimate dealings and, as time went on, those people devoured any part of him that was decent. Oh, it was such a shame. Your mother tried to show him how he was slipping away into something evil, but they were putting money in his pocket and he couldn't say no. He took out his own guilt, I think, on her until excuses eventually hardened him so much that there was no room for guilt inside him. It had been replaced with a darkness only found in an empty soul, but somewhere down deep, the power of Christ still worked within him to fight off the devil's control."

"I hate him." James barked, "I hate him so much."

The priest reached out to take James's hands into his own, "Hate is the devil's work, James. Given the opportunity, it will eat you alive."

"I don't care," the boy cried out.

"I have to tell you something, James. I've been thinking about telling you for a while, but I wasn't sure if you'd be ready to hear it. I think now is the time."

There were tears welling up in James' eyes. He had been taken to an emotional place he wanted to forget, but there had been questions that needed to be answered and so he braced himself for whatever the priest had to say.

"I've been visiting your dad, James."

"What!" James stood up in shock.

"Please. Please sit back down, James. What I have to tell you is important."

Reluctantly, James sat back down. He folded his arms around his belly to hold inside the tension that was ready to explode.

"He called me, Son. He asked me to visit him a few weeks ago. It took him a long time to realize what he had done to your mom, but when it finally sunk in, he realized that he had killed the one person in life that he truly loved."

"Loved!" James roared, "He has no idea what love is. He's a monster."

"For a while, you are right. For those years where the devil had won him over, there was nothing inside of him. He was void of anything except hate. Somewhere inside of him, even when he was so brutal to your mom, he still loved her. After he shot her, all those memories of when things were still good came back to him. He remembered how he was struck by her compassion and kindness. The devil blinded him to those memories for such a long time."

Father Joseph continued quickly before James could cut him off, "For weeks, your dad hated himself so much that he tried to commit suicide several times and was put in isolation for long periods. I don't know what happened, but when I went to see him, I could see the difference in his eyes."

"Why are you telling me all this?" an angered James asked, "I don't care if he suddenly found religion. He should rot in hell."

"James. You don't have to like him and you don't have to have any relationship with him at all, but he wants to see you. He wants to talk to you and, I believe, he wants to ask for your forgiveness."

"You've got to be kidding," James stood up again and almost walked out, but the priest gently took his arm and led him back to the chair.

"Let me tell you something about forgiveness, James. Please, sit for just another minute. Just hear me out."

His sight blurred in his moisture filled eyes, but James gave the priest another chance to make his point.

"James, no one asks that you do anything more than hear him out this one time. Forgiveness isn't just something that lightens the load of its recipient. In fact, the lack of it can have an even more profound effect on the person who needs to forgive. It's like huge iron chain that weighs us down so much that eventually it can crush the love inside us, not just for the person in need of forgiving, but for those who we really do love around us. By forgiving others, James, we free our love and make it available to give to those we care about."

This was a concept James' hadn't considered and the thought of reaching down into that part of himself to face his dad was almost unbearable, but he said, "I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask, Son. If you decide it's something you're willing to do, call me and I'll take you there myself and stay with you when you talk to him."

As James stoop back up one last time, he thanked the priest for his time saying, "I'll think about it, Father, uh, Joseph, but don't hold your breath too long, okay?"

Prayer hadn't been a part of James recent introduction to Christ. As he told the priest, he thought of reading the bible and going to church more like an education than a thing of faith. He was analytically intrigued with the power of Christ's experiences and of His words. James remembered reading something about forgiveness as he read through the various books of the New Testament, but he had skimmed over it not thinking it was all that important to him.

He remembered that he was supposed to ask Father Joseph to drive him home, but he forgot and so he called Liz as he sat on the steps outside the church. When she arrived, he greeted her with a kiss on her cheek before he buckled himself into his seatbelt.

"So, was it a good talk with Father Joseph? You look a little pale."

"I'm okay," James lied, "It was kind of intense talking about my mom and all."

Liz brushed off the look of fatigue and chalked it up to a long day at school followed by an emotional reminder of his loss, "Well," she said, "I'm sure it was good to hear nice things about your mom. Were you able to see her grave?"

"Oh, yeah," James said, "I stopped by before I went inside," then, he confessed, " I picked a couple of flowers from the school yard and put them on her grave."

Mrs. Fiore squinted, but continued to look forward, "Hmm, not sure that was a great idea, but considering that they were for your mom, I think the Lord will forgive you." She smiled.

James didn't talk about his visit with Father Joseph during supper and Liz was intuitive enough not to ask, but when Rick and Charles brought it up, James quickly redirected the conversation to the Introduction to Economics class where he aced his first test that afternoon.

"Way to go!" Rick said, "I guess my tutoring did some good, huh!

"You barely helped me," James teasingly retorted hoping to lighten his mood, "You helped me that one time, but I did most of it myself."

"Yes, but that one time was the miracle that enlightened you to the answers that can only be found in my more experienced mind"

"Give it up bro," James said, "You can't stand that a kid two years younger than you did just as well as you did when you took it."

"Alas, it was my mere presence in your life that gave you the confidence to test the left side of your brain."

"Oh, brother," James snickered, "give me a break."

But he was grateful for cheerful bantering that broke him away from the burden Father Joseph had asked him to consider.

CHAPTER 21

The weeks after December passed with the blink of an eye until the hot days of summer drove most of the neighborhood teens to the Tremont public pool. It was a new experience for James. In years past, occasionally he and Slug would make their own stick polls to take fishing down at the pond, but most of the time they just hung out at the arcade. With the help of the seasonal counselors who shared the responsibilities of being both life guards and instructors, James finally learned how to swim and he was able to enjoy frequent games of Marco Polo with Nelson and some other friends. For the time being, James left behind him any demands placed on him by school or individuals. It was his time to embrace the carefree life of summer vacation; something he had never really had the opportunity to do before while he was under the jurisdiction of his dysfunctional home.

A new face emerged at the pool; someone who moved into the neighborhood only recently. She was tall and lean with tanned skin and dark, slanted eyes; something that couldn't go unnoticed by Rick. Her silky, dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail and although she radiated with glamorous perfection, she was refined and modest in her attire. A long flowered skirt covered the bottom half of her one piece bathing suit as she passed Rick and Maggie wearing reading glasses and holding an open book. Her lack of attention to her direction caused her to stumble over the edge of Rick's lounge chair.

"Oh, excuse me," she said returning Rick's smile, "I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Must be a good book." Rick teased.

"It is," she said, "Ann Coulter. She's a bit over the top at times, but I admire her convictions."

Rick held out his hand to the beautiful stranger, "Hi. I'm Rick Fiore," and noting that Rick had completely dismissed her, Maggie also held out her hand, "and I'm Maggie McGregor. I haven't seen you around before."

"Yes. We just moved here two weeks ago." She returned the hand shake, "Hi, I'm Amanda Chang. We live just a few houses over from here in that brick house. You can see it right over there behind that last canopy."

"Wow," Rick continued, "That house is more like a mansion. We always wondered who lived there."

"We were lucky to find it. My dad had been looking for a place near the court house and this was the closest one that he liked. We were lucky that it just came up for sale. The man who lived there died and his wife decided the house was too big for her to live there alone."

"You're dad a lawyer?" Rick asked.

"Well, he's a judge. He used to be a defense attorney, but now he's a judge in the District Court. This neighborhood is a little congested for us, but since the house has a lot of property and it has that big stone wall around it, he thought it would be fine."

Immediately, Maggie thought 'my God, what a snob,' but it was clear that Rick didn't see it that way, "It'll be a lot of house for your mom to keep up," Maggie noted.

"Yes, it is, but we have a lady who comes in once a week and that really helps."

Of course Maggie wondered why the girl didn't include herself in helping her mom tend to the household obligations, "That must be nice." She said more sarcastically than her upbringing would normally permit.

"It is," Amanda continued, "but I wish I could help more, too. Mom makes me study day in and day out. I don't have much time for much else."

"Even in the summer?" Rick asked, not noticing the green streak coming through Maggie's tone.

"Oh, yes. I still study every day in the summer."

"But you're out here now," Maggie interjected.

The girl sighed sincerely, "She thinks it's healthy for me to practice swimming for a couple of hours during the week, usually on Wednesdays and Fridays. She wants to make sure I'm fit enough to take on the rigors of college in the Fall."

"I'll be going to Huntington U in Indiana this fall." Rick responded.

"Oh my gosh," Amanda said with genuine surprise, "Me too. That's where I'm going. They have a great pre-law program."

By now Rick was sitting up straight on his chaise lounge, "You're kidding. That's why I'm going there! I wish it was Harvard or Yale; but hey, we take what we can get. I was accepted at SUNY, too, but my mom is afraid I'd be corrupted if I went to a school here in the North East. We took a weekend trip there just a couple of weeks ago and I really liked the campus."

"You want to be a lawyer?" Amanda asked, smiling at Rick's added comments.

"You bet. It's been a dream as far back as I can remember."

"It's been my father's dream for me and I suppose I really want it too," Amanda confessed, "I think that's why my parents wanted me to pick Huntington, too. They didn't really care about it being a Christian school except for the fact they thought they wouldn't allow wild parties or anything on campus."

"You don't sound all that enthusiastic," Maggie commented.

"Actually, I've been torn between becoming an attorney and a police officer, but my parents are pretty much against me going to the police academy. They worry too much, you know?"

"So don't they let you do what you really want to do?" Maggie persisted.

"Oh, sure. They do, but I want them to be proud of me and since both professions interest me, I decided to go for what makes them happy."

Maggie didn't really believe the girl, but she didn't push it any further. She wasn't at all thrilled with the way Rick gloated over her, but rather than appear jealous, she at least tried to stand on higher ground while still hinting that the conversation should come to an end, "Well, Amanda, it was so nice meeting you. We don't want to keep you from your exercises. Maybe we'll see you again sometime."

The girl looked at the watch on her hand, "Oh my, I guess my mom will be wondering where I am. I'd better get going. It was really nice meeting you both." And as she walked away, Rick's eyes followed her until she was out of sight.

There was no concealing Maggie's wariness when she commented to Rick, "My gosh, the drool is still dripping down your face."

"Take it easy, Maggie. I just found it amazing that we're both going to Huntington. You've got to admit, it's a pretty big coincidence."

"And I suppose the fact that she's totally hot had nothing to do with it."

"Hmm," Rick teased, "Sounds like there's a bit of green running through your veins, huh?"

"No way. I simply found her to be a bit arrogant with all that talk about having a maid and all."

"Big difference between having a lady come in once a week to help with the housecleaning and having a maid."

But Maggie was unyielding, "And I suppose the fact that her daddy is a rich judge didn't influence your slobbering all over her either."

Rick's tone became scolding, "Hey, Maggie, I'm surprised at you. You're normally so sweet, but this side of you isn't very flattering at all." Then he laid back and closed his eyes to allow the sun to blanket his face in its warmth.

Astonished at Rick's criticism; Maggie also lay back in her chair, closing her eyes in a huff. They both remained silent until the announcement came that the pool was closing. They were awakened from their daydreams when James and Nelson stood over them shaking the water from their soaked bodies.

"Hey you two," Nelson said, "They're closing. Let's go."

Clearly displaying annoyance as her exasperated attitude continued, Maggie grabbed her towel and, without a word, stomped to Rick's car ahead of the boys.

"What's up with her?" Nelson asked Rick.

"The green eyed monster," Rick only half smiled.

Not understanding what that meant, Nelson and James slipped into the back seat of the truck constantly chattering about the fun they had all day at the pool.

The realization that Rick would be going far away to school sunk in later when Maggie was in her room perusing the pamphlet she got from the college she would be attending in the fall. John Brown University in Arkansas had an excellent journalism program according to Coach Mills who recommended the school during conversations with Maggie a couple of months before graduation. Maggie applied so late that she feared she might not be accepted, but a letter from her coach weighed in her favor. Jean Mills assured Maggie that she would be visiting her family often. Her dad was a professor and her older brother still coached at the university. Any time Maggie couldn't make it home for a holiday due to the expense of travel, the Mills family would welcome her into their home. That comfort, along with a multitude of enticing opportunities at the school, clinched Maggie's decision to take the plunge at a university so far away from Tremont.

At any rate, Maggie had to face the fact that she and Rick would be starting separate journeys in distant states and the space between them would likely diminish their close relationship. Although they had never been intimate with one another, at least not beyond a hug and a kiss, Maggie had always assumed that they were a couple, but it was time to grow up. It was very possible that after college, neither of them would even end up living in Tremont once they established their careers. A feeling of melancholy replaced the blithe that was her mood before Amanda showed up at the pool.

A perceptive Rick must have thought about Maggie as well because just as she was about to Skype him, her phone rang.

"Hey kiddo," he said softly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said not yet willing to relinquish her wounded frame of mind.

"You know you're my best friend ever."

The candor of his words stung, but something inside her had to allow the air to be cleared.

"Who knows," Rick continued, "Maybe after we're all settled in where ever life takes us, we'll realize that we can't live without each other."

"Get real," Maggie said, "It just never hit me before that we're going in entirely different directions."

"Look," Rick tried to be consoling, "I admit Amanda is very attractive, but I just met her, Maggie. I have no idea what kind of person she is and maybe we'll become friends at school and maybe not. We'll probably run into each other and have some sort of casual relationship, but you need to know two things. One, you really are the best person I know. I hope you will allow me to spend every minute I can with you until we go away to school. I hold you very dear in my heart. And secondly, don't count me out just yet. I still have to grow, Maggie, and I need to find out where I belong, but I intend to Skype you as often as I possibly can when I go away. I'll always need to know you're there and to see that beautiful face of yours."

It was just enough comfort to Maggie to drop her guard a little, "Oh, I know you're right. I guess I just didn't think it would be so hard. I can't imagine going to football games or to the movies with anyone else."

"Before I came along, you did everything with Sam. Remember how left out she felt when you and I started to hang out so much?"

"True, but she met Chuck not too long after that and suddenly I wasn't so important anymore, either." Maggie recalled.

"That's my point, Maggie. Life changes. We're still so young and there's so much ahead of us to discover. That's not to say that it's written in stone that we'll never ultimately end up together, but we both need to see what's out there before we write that story, don't you think?"

"I suppose you're right. I'm not so sure I like this growing up stuff right now, though."

"Come on, Maggie. Let's take a drive down to the ocean tomorrow. I'll buy you lunch at the Lobster Shack and then we can walk along the boardwalk all day," Rick made an effort to bring levity to the conversation, "You can collect little sea shells and bury me in the sand if you want."

"You know that you're totally weird, right?"

"Ah, but weird is good. So, you'll come?"

"Yes," Maggie forced from her lips, "I'll go. As long as you're buying, I've been dying for fried clams all summer."

"Okay Babe. I'll pick you up early, around eight, okay?"

"No boys. Just us." She insisted.

"No boys. Just you and me, strolling along the beach being lazy all day."

Meanwhile, James sat against the headboard on the bed in his room watching a cop show on TV. He had been oblivious to anything serious for days on end with most of his time being spent at the pool or shooting hoops at the park with Nelson. Suddenly a scene on the show he was watching reminded him of the day his mom was killed. It didn't hit him at first, but as the show evolved; he became more and more tense. After a man in the show was seen weeping over the body of his wife, James shut the TV off and allowed the memories of his dad and his brother to invade his thoughts for a long time.

At dinner, James didn't speak much, but as often occurred; he managed to conceal the trouble in his mind from his new family. As usual, Charles was at the pizzeria so it was just Rick and Liz with him at the table. He thought about Father Joseph's urging him to see his dad and he wondered if Slice shared his dad's regrets. They were in different prisons; his dad with life and his brother for ten to twenty years. It had never occurred to James before that it was possible his brother could possibly be released while he was still a young man if he was able to make parole. Even if he served the max, he'd still be in his forties. The thought sent a shiver down James' spine.

"I think I'll call Father Joseph," James said to Liz.

"Is everything okay?" his guardian asked.

James made an attempt to appear casual, "Yeah, it's fine. I just want to talk to him"

Sensitive to the boy's history, Liz supported him, "Sure, I'll drive you over to see him if you want.

"I'm going to call him and I'll let you know, is that alright?"

"Absolutely. Be sure to let me know when you want to see him if you do, though, so I'll be here. Rick's going to the shore tomorrow with Maggie and so he won't be around."

"Yeah," Rick said with a guilty grin, "I've got some schmoozing to do after today at the pool."

"So what was her problem," James asked.

"Her name was Amanda."

"Who's Amanda?" both James and Liz asked at the same time.

"A new girl. Her dad's a judge and they moved to that big brick house near the pool grounds."

"That estate with the big wall around it?" Liz asked with abundant curiosity.

"Yep. I guess they're pretty well off. I talked to her at the pool today and I guess Maggie got a little jealous."

"Oh my," Liz replied, "Well, did you flirt with the girl?"

"No way. I just talked to her. She was walking buy reading some book and she almost tripped over my chair and so we started to talk. Maggie was right there. She just introduced herself and we talked a little. That's all."

"You talking about that Asian lady?" James asked, "She was hot."

Failing to convince anyone, Rick insisted, "I didn't notice."

"Oh, man, you lie!" James teased.

"Was she your age?" Liz continued to inquire.

"She'll be going to Huntington in the fall."

"Really. What a coincidence. Well, I guess that might cause Maggie to get a little jealous. Did you work things out with her?"

"Of course. She knows how special she is to me, but she knows we're going away to separate schools. That's a fact. Our lives are going to change after that, but I'm not going to throw her away like some old shoes. I just thought it would be nice if we could have a special day to ourselves and talk about things."

"Now you be careful with that girl, Rick. I know she has you on a pedestal and she's too sweet for you to do anything that might hurt her."

"Mom, don't worry. Maggie and I will be friends forever. She's very important to me, but our lives are going to be different. We have to face that. I think tomorrow I can reassure her that our friendship is rock solid, you know."

"Well, okay, but you be gentle with her young man."

"Yeah, Yeah. I will."

"So," James interjected, "you like this Amanda person?"

"I have no idea. She seemed nice, but we only talked a couple of minutes."

"Uh oh, I see it coming." James badgered, "Love is in the air. Wait until you see her at college when Maggie is a million miles away."

Rick reached over to James who was sitting at the end of the table next to him and playfully wrapped his hands around the boy's neck, "Don't start trouble, you little..."

James raised both hands in surrender, "I give. I give." And then he mockingly said with a big grin to Liz, "but I think we might have to set an extra place when Rick comes home for Christmas."

For a few moments at least, the controversy in his mind subsided while he enjoyed his meal with whom he felt most comforted. After dinner, he went outside to the gazebo Charles had built earlier in the summer. Without much explanation as to why, he called Father Joseph and asked when would be a good time for him to visit.

"Would you like me to come there or do you want to come here?" the priest asked James.

"I'd like to come there if you have time tomorrow."

"I do. How bout I pack a lunch James, and we take a walk to that small park in back of the court house. There's rarely anyone around and it might be better than the stuffiness of my office. Is that okay with you?"

"Hold on. Liz has to drive me and so let me check to see if that time is good for her. Can you hold on a couple of minutes? I'm outside and I have to run in and ask her."

"No need. I'll pick you up and bring you home. I'm sure she'll call me if the time isn't good for some reason."

"I already told her I wanted to talk to you and so I don't think it'll be a problem. Thanks for picking me up. I'll be ready when you get here. You can just honk a couple of times and I'll come out."

"Oh, I come knock on the door, James. Honking outdoors is what some teens do, but I don't think it would be too proper for a priest to do that," he chuckled, "I'll see you around eleven-thirty."

James was still uncomfortable addressing the priest either by Father or by his first name and so he simply replied, "Thanks. I'll be ready whenever you get here. Bye."

In order to keep from thinking about his dad, for the rest of the evening, James joined Liz and Rick in front of the TV until after midnight when Charles finally came home from the pizzeria to discover all three sound asleep in front of Jay Leno's Tonight Show. A sudden change in channel to an old western with guns blaring awakened the trio who greeted Charles before groggily making their way to bed.

The next morning James called Nelson to tell him that he wouldn't be going to the pool that day because he was visiting with Father Joseph. His friend was a little worried to hear about the episode James watched that revived the wounds of his mother's death, "So, why are you going to see Father Joseph?" Nelson asked.

"I never told you before, but when I talked to him before summer break, he mentioned my dad. He wants me to go see him at the prison."

"Whoa, why would you want to do that? Are you kidding me?"

"I know, but he said that my dad has changed and that he's really sorry for what he did."

"So what!" Nelson became irritated, "So you should go give him a big pat on the back because he feels bad?"

"He said my dad really loved my mom and he was sorry for what he did."

"Yeah right. Sorry enough to shoot her dead. Come on, Bro. Why should you give him the time of day?"

"It's hard to explain, Nelson. I just have to get some things clear in my head. He said that I would feel better inside if I forgave my dad."

"While you're at it, why don't you just forgive the whole stupid Laisve gang and that idiot atheist group that helped them. Get real. You think you should act all nice and cozy with those guys? Man, they're all a bunch of scumbags."

Subconsciously, James was aware that Nelson was picking up a lot of the lingo he used. He probably shouldn't have been pleased; he thought, but it he felt a twinge of pride in Nelson's tougher stance, "Look, I know it's hard to understand, but I think I've got to face my dad sooner or later. I can't stand feeling so messed up inside all the time when I think about him and Slice."

"You're not going to see Slice, too, are you?"

"No way. He didn't say anything about Slice feeling bad about what he did. I hope he rots in jail forever. I hope my dad does, too, but I just need to see his face. If I see his face, I'll know, you know?"

"Man, I don't get it at all, but I know you. Once you've made up your mind, there's no stopping you. When you come back home all torn up inside, I'll be here for you."

"You know, wolfy, you've come a long way, kid."

"What. What do you mean?"

James smiled to himself, "Never mind. You're okay, kid. I'm glad you're my friend. I'll see you tomorrow at the pool. I promise."

"If Maggie's made up with Rick and they pick me up. Otherwise, I'll have no way to get there."

"They'll be fine. I heard Rick talking about it and after he takes her on that little trip to the beach, she'll be back to her old self. Don't worry."

"If you say so, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

It wasn't long before Father Joseph showed up at the Fiore home. He and Liz talked quietly for a few minutes to one side before calling James out of his room to go for lunch with the priest.

"So, Joe." James began, "Have you heard anything about my brother?"

"I don't go to see him. Just your dad, but he's written letters to your dad. I don't think Phillip has changed much. He's as cold as he's ever been. He stopped writing to your dad when your dad wrote back telling him that the way they were living all those years was wrong. Your dad got one more letter from him telling your dad he was a coward for betraying the Laisves."

"I hope I never see him again after he gets out. I wish he got life like dad did."

"By the time he gets out, James, you'll have a life of your own. Who knows, you might be living somewhere far away and unless you want him to, I doubt if he'll search for you or even want to find you."

"What if he blames me somehow for putting him in jail."

The priest sat down at one of the picnic tables in the park by the fountain, "James, as warped as his mind is, I don't think that even Phillip would blame you for anything. You had nothing to do with his going to jail. If anyone did, it was your dad and the Laisves, not to mention the atheist group that helped them with their plan. No, I believe that the first people Phillip will contact when he gets out will be someone who thinks like him. Evil doers find comfort and security among like-minded beings."

"Well, I wish he wouldn't do that either, but I know I don't want to see him."

"Do you want to see your dad, James?" the priest eased the question in before James had time to put up a barrier to the distressing reason for the visit. Although he knew he had to face it, he tried as long as he could to avoid the bottom line.

"I think I do. Does he still feel the way you said he did?"

"Yes, he does. Each time I go there to see him, I believe him more. He's not the man you knew as your father."

"I guess I do want to see him. I need to see his face and look into his eyes, you know?"

"Indeed. You will see what God wants you to see, son, the truth."

"Okay then. I have to tell Liz and Charles. I'm not sure how they'll feel about it, but they've been really good. I think they'll be okay with it, especially if I'm going there with you."

"You could bring them, too, if you want."

"No way. I don't want them there. This is between my dad and me."

"Well, I have time to drive you there next week if that's what you really want. You start school the week after that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm actually looking forward to it. I've had a lot of fun this summer, but as nuts as it sounds, I like school."

"You're like a sponge, I hear. Liz has told me that you're way ahead of your class in math and she told me that you're going to take another test from Billings when you go back."

"Yeah, supposedly, it's not for their school, but it's some kind of intelligence test to see if I'm a genius or something," James chuckled.

"Excellent. I think a lot of doors will be open to you, James, when you're ready to go to college."

"I hope so. I like the challenges. It's like it kind of fills me up. I can't explain it, but it does."

"You're a gifted young man, James. Always listen to your heart. It seems to be doing right by you."

Father Joseph tossed the sandwich wrappings into the trash can and the two fed crumbs to the ducks before leaving for the Fiore house. There was a lot for James to think about, but he believed it was time for him to face his demons.

CHAPTER 22

After traveling down a long driveway through a cluster of trees, the stone building revealed itself to James and Father Joseph. Barbed wire fences surrounded the structure leaving sections of pavement and some grassy areas in between. A short tunnel marked the entrance where they stopped at a guard house to register.

There was a gnawing in James' gut that wouldn't quit as they passed through the dimly lit corridors toward a series of windowless rooms where lawyers or spiritual counselors could meet with the incarcerated in private. A guard led them to one such room where they were asked to sit a table which was the lone piece of furniture in the room apart from the four chairs that surrounded it.

It seemed like forever before they heard the light clanging of the chains that restricted James' dad from excessive movement in either his arms or his legs. Although he fought the urge to reveal his astonishment at the sight of his dad, James jaw dropped when the white haired man stood before him. Where there was once a powerful being; whose tough exterior resembled a still youthful warrior, now stood an aged and pitiful creature.

Herman sat down opposite Father Joseph, never lifting his eyes to see his son who was sitting next to the priest. Dumbstruck, words were stuck in James' throat unable to move through to his lips. It was Father Joseph who finally broke the silence, "How are you doing, Herman?"

But the pathetic man could only weep. It seemed to go on forever with a moan that exhausted the breath out of him before he could at last compose himself to speak, "I'm so sorry, son. I'm so, so sorry."

The nerve of this man to even be alive, never mind show sorrow for his despicable deed jolted James back from the anxiety that had immobilized him. He stood up and pounded the table, "Why, dad. Why did you do it?"

Father Joseph reached out an arm to ease James back into the chair, "Herman, tell James the things you've told me. That's what you wanted. It wasn't easy for James to come here."

The wretched man's bloodshot eyes, glistening with wetness, lifted to face James, "Son, I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I loved her so much. I never meant to hurt her."

It was all James could do to restrain himself from reaching in fury across the table, "You beat her! You treated her like dirt! I hate you. You're nothing but a monster!"

Yet Herman slouched over in agreement with his son, tears flowing down his cheeks, "You're right. I did all those things. I am so sorry. But I always loved her, son. After I, uh, after I,..."

"Shot her dead, you animal."

"It made me realize that I killed the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me, son. I don't know how I lost sight of it. At first it was the money. I guess I always was angry, too. I made so many mistakes. I had to blame someone. Being a part of the Laisves, I felt like I was somebody. It made me feel strong and powerful, but your mom was always telling me that I was going down the wrong path, but I didn't want to let it go. The more money I got and respect I got in the neighborhood, the more I talked myself into thinking that I believed like they did. I resented her for her lectures even though I loved her."

For the time being, Father Joseph remained quiet as the boy and his dad struggled through their interaction, ready to mediate if needed. He thought it best to allow James to release his anger as long as the boy maintained his control.

"What, now you've found God?" the boy rebuked his dad, "Now that you've taken from me the only person who ever cared about me my whole life?"

"Not at first," Herman whimpered, "It hit me like a ton of bricks when I shot her. I didn't expect her to be there. I didn't expect 'you' to be there. But when I saw her fall to the ground, I about died myself. It was like an explosion blew up inside me. Nothing else mattered, not the Christians, not the Laisve, not the atheists, nothing. I just knew I felt so terrible, I just can't explain it, son."

"So after all that time beating up on mom, burning down houses and living like the scum you are, suddenly some bolt comes out of the sky and transforms you into a human. I don't think so!"

"Son, look at me. I have no reason to change. No amount of transformation or regret is getting me out of here. I'm here to stay, boy. But I did change. With Father Joseph's help, I learned that even a horrendous sinner like me can be saved. He started reading the bible to me. I had never read it before. I just saw all those Christians going around acting like they were better than me. I became so angry and I wanted to get rid of them anyway I could. I didn't want them in our town at all. Then, I started going to those meetings with the Americans for Religious Justice and I became brainwashed with their thinking. I was convinced that I had the right to do anything I wanted, no matter how it affected the community, and that those Christians were the only thing standing in the way of me and the power I wanted."

Herman realized that he wasn't making a lot of progress with his son, but he continued, "James, I don't expect you to ever think of me any better than you do right now. I deserve your hatred. I mean it. I don't even expect you to believe me when I tell you how sorry I am, but I really am so sorry. Hate me if you will. Never see me again if that's what you want, but all I'm asking you to do is to consider forgiving me. Ask Father Joseph here. He'll tell you how precious forgiveness is. It can eat you alive when you don't forgive."

"You're not worried about my lack of forgiveness eating me a live, you creep. You're only worried about carrying around the weight of what you did and you somehow think that getting me to forgive you will make it all okay for you."

"You're wrong son. I will never be at peace; not as long as I live. I have to live with that guilt inside me for the rest of my days. It's not for me that I want you to forgive me, it's for you, son."

Elbows on the table, James laid his forehead in the fists of his hands. Every bone in his body was electrified with anger; yet, his dad's words reached a place deep inside him where a battle was being fought between the teachings of Christ and his tortured desire for revenge. Rather than respond to his dad's plea, he redirected his questioning to the subject of Slice.

"So, you've heard from Slice."

"He wrote quite a few letters to me in the beginning. At first, the guards held on to them and so it wasn't until pretty recent that they let me read them. Aww, son, they were filled with so much venom," Herman's chained hands shook as he reached toward James laying them palms down on the table, "You've got to forget about him, James. It's my fault, I know, but he is lost. I wrote back a couple of times, but when I told him how I felt about the wrong I done, he felt betrayed and I understand that. As bad as he is, son, I made him that way. I raised him from the time he was a young boy to hate. He doesn't know any different. But don't waste your time on him, son. He ain't change'n. I taught him to think of your mom not like a mom, but like a slave to me who was only there to shut up and serve me. To tell the truth, because I never let him know her the way I did when we were young, if he had shot her instead of me, I don't think it would have mattered to him."

A fire boiled up in James' eyes, "You are evil, Dad. You've destroyed everything good that ever came in contact with you. How can you expect me to believe anything you say?

You're the worst kind of garbage and you should crumble and die in here, dad. You ask me to forgive you, but you represent the devil himself. Me forgive you! You actually expect that?"

Herman bowed his head and wept, "I can't son. Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to come. You're right. The things I've done are beyond forgiveness. Go and be done with me. I do love you, son, and I loved your mom. Honestly, I don't expect you to believe me, but the truth is, I am so sorry."

He stood up and called out to the guard, but Father Joseph took hold of his arm and held him back, "I'll talk to him," the priest whispered before the guard who had been standing by the opened door guided Herman back to his cell.

On the drive home, Father Joseph said to James, "So also my heavenly Father will deal with every one of you if you do not freely forgive your brother from your heart his offenses, Matthew 18:35."

But James was still in a state of fury and he did not respond.

And Father Joseph said again, "And whenever you stand praying, if you have anything against anyone, forgive him and let it drop in order that your Father Who is in heaven may also forgive you failings and shortcomings and let them drop. Mark 11:25"

"What makes you think I pray?" James finally muttered.

"You don't pray? I thought you've told me that you've been reading the bible and going to church?"

"I do, but I haven't actually prayed except for the ones they say in church. I can't imagine just sitting there and talking to space like I'm crazy."

"But doesn't Christ ask us to pray?"

"Well, I think about things a lot and I guess I kind of talk to God in my thoughts, but I don't like talk to Him like out loud or anything."

"If you're thinking a conversation with God, you are praying, son."

"Well, then I guess I pray, but it's not like I think about heavy stuff. Mostly, I ask a lot of questions in my head like why a monster like my dad could be allowed to live when a good person like my mom had to die."

"Ah, some of the mysteries we all wonder about," the priest said not having a plausible answer to James' query, "I suppose it might not be until we face our Lord that we find some of the answers that taunt us throughout our lives, but nonetheless it's up to us to find a way to come to terms with the way things are. Some things we can change. Some things we can't change, but in all things we must try our utmost to be obedient to God's will and it is His will that we love one another and forgive each other for even the worst of our sins. In that way, God will forgive us for our own sins."

"I never came close to doing anything like what he did. He spent his life as a con and now he's even a murderer. He killed his own wife, my mom! Why should I forgive him?"

"Do you remember reading about Moses?"

"Yeah, so?"

"He was far from clean in his life. He killed people, too; yet, God forgave him."

"But this is my dad. My own dad who killed mom. I just don't get it."

"That's just my point, James. If God can forgive the most horrendous of our sins, what great love He has! It's called grace, son. God isn't saying that we earned his forgiveness or even that we deserve it, but He gives it to us anyway because His love is that great, that amazing."

James couldn't find words to elucidate what was in his heart, but he did listen and try to soak in the notion that the priest was describing. Father Joseph added, "He's not asking you to forget what your dad did. You should never forget that. It drives the goodness in you to become the opposite of what your dad became. He's not even asking you to like your dad, but hate and bitterness weigh us down like giant rocks that sink us into darkness. Your dad was right when he said that it wasn't for him that he wanted you to forgive him. It was for you and, honestly, James, I don't think he could say that if there wasn't love driving those words."

For the first time in his life, James was actually considering prayer. He could feel himself being drawn into it like a craving which was welling up inside him with an intensity he could barely manage.

As though the priest read his mind, Father Joseph said, "Talk to God, son. Be honest with Him and tell Him exactly how you're feeling. I know it's hard to imagine, but trust me, if you ask Him to help you from way down in your heart, He will hear you and before you know it, you'll know what to do."

That evening when Charles arrived home from the pizzeria, James asked him if he could talk with him. He had come to trust his surrogate dad and counted on his wisdom. At a time when Rick was out with Maggie and Liz was in the kitchen ironing, the young man sat with Charles outside on the patio. With September just a week away, reflections from the sun created shadows that danced across the surrounding lawn from the breeze.

James re-counted his visit to the prison with Father Joseph in great detail from the grimness of the setting itself to his dad's white hair and the chains that restricted his movement. He had rarely exposed the particulars of his anxieties so openly before to anyone, but he could only take so much of the overwhelming sensations that had overtaken him.

"So, I just can't deal with all this right now," James told Charles, "We have to go back to school in a week. I just want to forget about all this and concentrate on my classes, you know?"

Charles listened intently, taking in every word and emotion the boy expressed, "Maybe for now you should just put it behind you. You've got that test to take and with all your classes and getting back into the groove of things at school, you might want to just put all this on the back burner until you're more sure about your goals. You'll start applying to colleges this year and when you're a junior, the pressures start mounting up in a lot of ways. You've got to concentrate on what's best for your own future, first, son, before you start reliving that difficult time of your life."

"I know, but I can't help but wonder if I'll do better in school if I just get this out of the way. It's always on my mind, I can't help it. What if this gnawing doesn't go away and I keep thinking about God and stuff."

"I'm no expert on religion, James, you know that. I spend most of my time at the pizzeria and only go to church a couple of times a year. Your mother, uh, I mean Liz, might be someone who could better advise you on that."

It didn't go unnoticed that Charles referred to Liz as his mother before correcting himself. It meant to James that, at least on the surface, Charles and Liz did think of themselves as his parents and that was reassuring, "Uh, that's ok, sir. I really just wanted to talk to you. You've, uh, well, you've been there for me and I respect you.

The boy's words left Charles somewhat choked up with just a tad of moisture welling up in his eyes, but he didn't let on, "Well, I think you have pretty good judgment, James, and whatever you decide to do, it'll be the right thing. Do you remember last Christmas when I gave something to you?"

"No. I don't remember that."

"Well, it's no wonder. It turned out to be a devastating time for you. You left it right there where it was, but I picked it up and brought it back home. I still have it all wrapped up just like it was that day."

"What was it?"

"It's a book. It wasn't new. It was something I bought years ago at a time in my life when I was looking for heroes. I thought it might be something you could use. After what happened, I don't think it would have made any difference to you, but now, after you've done so well in school and have come such a long way, I think you might find some good examples in it. I think it's on the shelf in my closet. I'll look for it. It's the right time for you to have it."

"What kind of book is it?"

"It's a book about men in history who faced some powerful obstacles; yet, who accomplished great things. Men like Abe Lincoln, Ronald Reagan, Thomas Jefferson, Martin Luther King, Jr. and even Jesus. You'd be surprised at some of the things they had to face. In fact, I have another book on Lincoln that was written just a couple of years ago that was a huge hit I think you'd like."

"I've read a lot," James said, "Mostly fiction. I haven't read much about history except in the bible."

"Well, this book makes it feel like fiction because it tells about some amazing adventures. It's not like the history books you get in school where they're just full of facts and dates. There's much more about the humanity of their lives; especially the one I had forgotten about that I'll give to you about Lincoln. It's like reading a thriller."

"Thanks, Sir. I think I'll like reading them."

"More than that, James, I think you'll see that some of the trials you've faced are not as uncommon as you might think. Men throughout history have faced threats to their lives for what they believed. You know what happened to Jesus and some of his followers were also killed just for believing in him."

"Yeah, probably by people who thought like my dad did and that stupid Americans for Religious Justice group that the Laisves ended up getting involved with. Why do some people hate Christians so much?"

"I don't know, James," Charles despondently replied, "You'd think that with all the good Christians do, they'd be appreciated, not hated; but I guess the way the world is leaning these days to a non-sectarian society pretty soon even churches will become the subject of controversy. To tell the truth, even though I don't go to church much myself, I still pray every day," and he smiled, "Just in case God isn't too pleased with me missing services while I work at the pizzeria."

James grinned, "I don't think you have to worry much, sir. With all the help you've given to me, that's got to count for something."

Charles used one arm to hug James, forgetting for a moment what spawned bringing James into his household, "You're family, James. Anything I do for you is just what family does for one another."

"Not all families." James reminded Charles, "But then I'm not sure you could call where I came from a family at all."

"Your mother was your family, son, and speaking of which, what do you say we go down and put some flowers on her grave tomorrow and then go fishing. I think Rick will be taking out Adam tomorrow to say good-bye before he goes off to school and to introduce him to his new Big Brother, but I think he's not picking him up until after supper. They're going to a Red's game and I think he'd like to come with us too. I haven't spent a lot of time with him, either, with all the work I've been doing," Charles chuckled like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "I conned my boss into covering for me. I told him I had a case of workaroo-stayhome-itis and if he didn't give me some time off, it could get a lot more serious."

"Aww, I know you love that place. If anything, you'd go nuts if you had to stay home!"

"You're right, but don't tell him that, okay?"

First thing the next morning, Charles searched for the package that had been stored in his closet since last Christmas and gave it to James. He asked James if he wanted to invite Nelson to go along on their fishing trip which, of course, he did which caused Nelson to jump up and down while holding the phone to his ear, "Awesome. I can't wait!"

It was very exciting for Nelson to be included in this man-trip, especially since he had no opportunity to share such things with his own missing-in-action dad. After stopping by Kathy Varnas' grave with a flower bouquet picked from the Fiore's backyard garden, they found Nelson waiting outside his house with fishing pole in hand. In all their masculine glory, they headed for the rock seawall of the coastal beach. It couldn't have been a more perfect day, leaving behind the heat and humidity of town for the fresh breezes drifting in from the sea.

They made their way to the very end of the rocks that formed a pier to the ocean, making themselves comfortable on folding lawn chairs with their buckets of bate by their sides. Not much was said during their hours of fishing except an occasional word of euphoria when one of them wrestled with the weight on the end of their line. With both James and Nelson never having shared the significant experiences of spending time with role model dads, to them this was a momentous day. Even joining Rick and Adam at a couple of baseball games couldn't compare to the delight of a man and the three boys who meant the most to him partaking in this uncomplicated life experience.

By the end of the afternoon, they caught themselves several striped bass and a couple of bluefish which Liz insisted that they clean themselves before she would cook the fish for their supper. Nelson remained with the family until late in the evening long after Rick had gone to take Adam to the game.

"Why don't you stay overnight?" Liz said, considering the hour and observing how much fun the boys were having playing video games in James' room. There was no doubt that Nelson had no desire to go home and so with a quick call to Susan, it was established that a sleep over was in order. Of course, one does not call it a sleep over when it's two boys who are well into their teens and so she simply said to Susan on the phone, "Great. It would be a shame to put an end to the day when they're having so much fun. I think they both need this time."

Feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, James allowed himself to confide in his friend about the visit with his dad. The pressure had been temporarily lifted and the two boys spent the night sharing stories of what they had missed growing up. Although Nelson's upbringing had been far more stable than James', James realized that Nelson, too, had been deprived of a father/son bond, but both boys were ever so grateful for the comradery they found in each other and with their two families. Their conversation drifted toward the new school year and what it might bring and then with Nelson on the air mattress on the floor and James in his bed, the boys fell asleep.
CHAPTER 23

Rick followed Mrs. McGregor to the airport with Nelson. They had to be there at least an hour before take-off and so he knew he'd have a little time to talk alone with Maggie before she boarded, but he thought she and her mom would want to spend the half hour or so driving to the airport clearing out all the usual questions about what Maggie might have packed or not packed and did her mom remember to bring her tickets. As it turned out, they arrived with plenty of time to spare and so Rick took Maggie to the coffee shop in the hopes of re-assuring her that their relationship was still strong.

"Look Maggie," he said, "I just want you to know that I'm really going to miss you a lot."

"Yeah, sure," she answered without looking up.

"I mean it, Maggie. Hey, I don't know where we'll end up. I just don't want you to go away thinking that all the time we've spent together wasn't really important to me. You are the best friend I've ever had."

It wasn't easy for Maggie whose heart had been lost to him from the first day their eyes met, but she tried to display a mature attitude. She smiled a weak smile, "I know. I know. Right now our priority has to be our education. Who knows what we'll discover while we're in school?"

"Right. I mean, we'll both be really busy and have a lot on our minds, but that doesn't mean we can't talk to each other every day if we want to."

Maggie gave a skeptical look, "Well, I'm not so sure we'll have that much time, but we can try to skype as much as possible."

"Hey girl, we should try to make it every day if we can. I don't want to lose you, Maggie."

She gradually transformed into a more accepting tone, "You're right. We'll try, but I don't want you to give up any plans or anything just to get back to the dorm. If something comes up, I'll understand. I'm sure a lot will come up at my end, too."

"Okay, I guess that's fair. We really don't know what to expect. Heck, we might have so much studying to do that neither of us has time for any social activities; but bottom line Maggie, I care about you and I will really miss you girl."

"Me too," she said when she heard the 'now boarding' announcement for her flight, "That's me. We've got to go."

As they stood up, Rick took Maggie's face in his hands and kissed her lips. Her eyes widened in amazement, but she didn't say a word. They walked hand in hand to the boarding area where she released his hand to hug her brother and mom good-bye. Mrs. McGregor's eyes were filled with tears, but Maggie was so excited that all she could do was wave, "Bye Mom, Bye baby brother," she paused and blew a kiss to Rick before entering the plane.

A week later Rick said his own good-byes while Liz tearfully snuggled her head in her husband's arms and James stood at the window crisscrossing his arms in the air waving as the plane took off. It was an oddly uncomfortable feeling that James had never experienced before. Never had he watched someone he loved go away without something terrible happening. He had to remind himself that this time it was for a good reason and that; this time, the person would come back.

During the first assembly after the new school year began, it was announced that a memorial was being planned next to where the tree lighting took place for the fallen soldiers of the town. Interested students were asked to contact their home room teachers if they wanted to participate in the program. The proposed design was displayed on the big screen in the auditorium depicting a twenty foot cross which would overlook a six by six by foot wall, ten inches deep, with the names the fallen engraved below a prayer and with two benches on either side where folks could rest when they visited.

It had been decided that the school band would play at the unveiling and speeches would be made from the platform that stood on the opposite side of the tree. A contest would determine which student would write the best paper on what it means to honor the men and women who serve our country and that student would be the individual who would lift the cloak from the wall at the event after reading his or her essay. Further, there would be a two thousand dollar scholarship for the winning student.

James encouraged Nelson to enter the contest and he promised to help him in the research, but Nelson thought James could do a better job. Nonetheless, James insisted that his friend be the one to write the essay because, in truth, James wanted Nelson to receive any glory that might come along with winning the contest. After years of being bullied at school, James thought it was about time Nelson's accomplishments were recognized.

"No way," James said, "You've had to fight off the bad guys more than I have. You know a lot about fighting for what you believe in. Look how you stood up to those guys on the day I met you."

"Yeah, but they would have crushed my face if you hadn't come along."

"Nah, you had it going on. It's just because I looked more like a tough guy that they chickened out. I told you. Image is everything," James teased, "Come on. I liked you from day one, but you did kind of look like a dork with a silver bullet around your neck."

Having greatly improved his appearance, wearing jeans and a denim jacket over a tan shirt, Nelson conceded, "Yeah, I guess it was good idea to give Wolf the bullet to wear on his collar."

"So let's do this. I'll meet you at the library and we can look up some books on the military. Heck, we can look up some of the names of the guys who died in the newspaper records and maybe talk to some of the families and get their perspective. I'll bet no one else does that. It would clinch it for you, I think."

Nelson's eyes lit up, "Great idea. Thanks. Are you sure you don't want to write an essay, too?"

"Nah, I'll be happy to see the spotlight on you. It's about time the kids in school started to really respect you. You'll make me proud, Bro!"

Later, in Mr. Lang's class, as so often happened, Mr. Lang asked James to stay behind as he made arrangements with him to take the intelligence exam that had been presented to him by Billings Academy. The academy resisted James' decision to remain at Tremont for his junior and senior year, but they asked if he would at least allow them to continue testing him since they suspected that he would score extraordinarily high after the initial results from testing last year. James agreed, merely because he curious himself as to his potential. He and Mr. Lang often talked about the many possibilities he'd have in science or engineering and they discussed the range of universities that would welcome his talent.

During their conversation, James mentioned to Mr. Lang his intent to help Nelson enter the memorial essay contest.

"Why aren't you entering?" he asked his student.

"Aww, I think the kid could use a boost. He's a really smart kid and after going through all that stuff last year, I just think it would be good for him to get out there in front of everybody and show them what he's really got go'in on."

"You are something else, James. Couldn't you use that scholarship money yourself?"

"Nah, I'll do okay. My mom left me that money and I plan on getting a job next summer," then, he teased his teacher, "Besides, you said I'm so smart maybe they'll pay me to go to college."

"You aren't so far off, James. I have a good feeling about you. Your grades last year were higher than any previous student and you barely had to try. I'm very interested in seeing how well you do with physics this year."

"Don't worry, I'll zip right through it, Mr. Lang." he ribbed his teacher, "you'll have me teaching the class while you're off in the teacher's lounge drinking coffee."

"Maybe so, but tell me, what's your idea for this essay thing?"

"Well, I thought we might look up exactly who in our town has died in action and maybe talk to some of the families and get their perspective on what being in the military means to them. Of course, we're going write about how they've fought to protect us not only from our enemies, but how much they've helped people in other countries."

"Come to think of it, James, I know two families quite well who would be worth taking time to talk to. One is Herb and Martha Reagan. They had two sons serving, Tim and Herbie, Jr., but I think it's best if you hear their story yourself. Then, there's John and Carol Wolkowsky and their son Ryan. I served with John's dad in Viet Nam. A great couple and they lost Ryan in Iraq."

"I didn't know you were in the military, Mr. Lang."

"Ah, it wasn't a good time. I saw things I wouldn't wish on anyone, but that was then and this is now. It's not something I like talking about much. Maybe someday."

"So, do you think I, uh, Nelson and I should talk to these people?"

"Definitely. I'll write down their telephone numbers for you and you can give them a call. They are very enthusiastic about the memorial and I'm sure they'll be glad to talk to you."

"Thanks, Mr. Lang. It means a lot to us that you're helping us."

"Well, I don't think you should say that I'm helping you. I'm just giving you a couple of names after you mentioned that you wanted to talk to the families. You don't want anyone to think you got some kind of advantage. If someone else sought my advice, I'd give them advice, but you kids have to do all the work and research yourselves. You could have found those names yourselves anyway since you said you're going through all the records. I wonder if any other kids will take the initiative to ask about the families."

James smiled, "I kind of hope not. I heard some of them talking already and all I heard them saying was that they're planning on writing about the history of the military and stuff in a more general way. I think our idea makes it more personal, don't you think?"

"Indeed. Good luck, James. See, I told you that you have a great mind. And to give the credit to your friend, well, that is more than impressive."

Nelson ultimately made the calls to the leads Mr. Lang had given to James. James wanted to insure that although he was sharing his ideas with Nelson, that it would be Nelson who did all the legwork. First on the list was Mr. Lang's friends John and Carol Wolkowsky. Later that evening, James shared their plans with Liz and Charles at the dinner table. It was one of those rare evenings when Charles didn't have to work the late day shift at the shop.

"I'm so proud of you," Liz said to James, "What a good friend you are."

Humbly, James declared, "He's a good friend to me. He deserves it. Besides, he's doing all the work. I'm just kind of a sounding board for him to bounce ideas off anyway."

"You know you could win this yourself if you entered," Liz insisted.

"Aww, I don't know. Maybe, but I have a lot of other things I'm busy with. Don't forget, Mr. Lang will be testing me again," he grumbled to hide his interest in discovering his own potential, "Sometimes I feel like a pin cushion with all the probing they do in my mind."

But Charles saw through him, "Come on, You love it and well you should. You'll do great things, James."

"If I'm so wonderful," James reached down to pet Sugar as he affectionately rubbed the dog's ears, "then, it shouldn't be any trouble for one of you to drive us to the Wolkowsky's house for our interview."

"I'm afraid we don't have time," Charles said looking a little shifty , "As a matter of fact; I'm not so sure we will be driving you anywhere anymore."

Surprised, James complained, "Why? "What did I do?"

"Charles," Liz scolded, "Stop it now. Tell him."

Ignoring his wife, Charles continued, "Are you done eating that cake?"

But James loved cheesecake and refused to put it aside. He scooped another piece into his mouth and with his mouth full he asked, "Am I in some kind of trouble again?"

Liz pushed the plate to one side, "Come on outside, James, Charles has something to show you."

Nervously, James pushed himself away from the table and followed Liz, Charles and Sugar out to where the long driveway curled around the back of the house near the garden. Even the dog seemed to be excited about the surprise that awaited them.

There in front of him was a shiny red Honda Civic. Needless to say, James jaw dropped, "Whoa! Where'd that come from?"

With an ear to ear grin Charles answered, "Well, we thought with Rick away at college, you don't have a regular chauffer anymore. You did pass your driver's test, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah, but I never thought... I mean, I thought you might let me drive your car once in a while, I mean, I wasn't sure you'd even let me do that. I mean, Oh heck, I don't know what I thought, but I didn't think this, that's for sure!"

"Do you like the color?" Liz asked.

"Are you kidding me?"

"You don't think it's too bright?"

James did a little dance where he stood and then put his arms around the vehicle in a hug, "It's perfect! I love it," then he gently pushed Sugar when her paws reached up to the side of the car, "Don't you dare scratch this car, girl," He pet the dog, "I'll take you in it, but you can't jump on it, is that clear?"

Charles couldn't help but boast, "I got a fantastic deal on it," as he brushed his hand along the side, "I talked him down a couple of thousand bucks."

"Awesome," James roared and then he snatched Liz and Charles up in a group hug, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

"I think he likes it," Liz proudly bragged to Charles, "We did good."

"Now, no tail gating. No speeding. No cigarettes in the car." Charles demanded, "I know you don't smoke, but don't let anyone else smoke in the car and you always tell us where you're going and when you're coming back, okay?"

"Anything you say," James eagerly agreed, "and I promise to always tell you where I'm going before I go anywhere."

"And I don't want to hear that you allowed piles of kids in the car." Charles continued, "A car is a weapon and you need to treat it with respect. Once you show us that you can be fully responsible with it, we might loosen the ropes a little, but for now, you need to follow the rules, okay?"

"You got it, sir. I'll treat her with kid gloves. I promise."

"Well, let's go for a spin, then!"

"Right now?"

"Sure. Liz and I want to see how you handle her."

So, with a number of reminders such as, "easy on the brakes" or "back off a little, son," they took a ride to the McGregor's so that James could show off his gem to his friend. Needless to say, Nelson was thrilled knowing that he and his buddy would no longer have to experience the embarrassment of being chaperoned wherever they went. Life was good.

That Friday after school Nelson and James stopped by to interview the Wolkowsky's after which they would visit the Reagans to hear their story. While the boys anticipated emotional narratives, they couldn't have planned for the impact their accounts would have.
CHAPTER 24

James pulled up outside the home of John and Carol Wolkowsky. The boys were excited about performing their very first ever interview, but at the same time, they were apprehensive about hearing their tragic story. They were a little taken back when their knocking aroused the deep growling of a dog behind the door, but when John opened it with Carol, in between them was big ball of black fur whose rear-end wiggled back and forth with the wagging of his tail.

"What is that?" Nelson asked before thinking.

With a chuckle that anticipated their surprise, Carol said as she gripped the dog's collar, "Oh, that's our little Splash. He's a Newfoundland. You should see him when he drinks his water. You have to keep a towel handy if you're nearby when he drinks. He won't hurt you. He loves people."

"Come in. Come in," John said stretching out his arm to welcome them inside.

The couple shushed the dog's barking. He immediately obeyed and went to lie down close to John's chair in the living room. Carol motioned the boys to sit across from them on the couch.

John opened the conversation, "We understand that you want to know about Ryan. You're doing an essay for the memorial ceremony?"

James elbowed Nelson to speak, "Uh, yes sir. We, uh, I was hoping you could tell us what happened."

Another elbow gently pushed into Nelson's ribs, "...and, uh, oh, we're so sorry about your loss."

Noting that Nelson was being urged to be the spokesman, John asked, "Are you both writing this essay thing?"

James chimed in, "I'm just here for moral support. Nelson here is writing the essay."

John suspected that James had a bigger part than supporting his friend, but he didn't say anything about it, "Well, it was a while ago."

"Three years," Carol said, "and it might as well have been yesterday. We still miss him so much. He was our only child, you know."

"But we're real proud of him," John added, "After 911, all he could talk about was joining the military. He ended up in the infantry, though, and that was about the most dangerous job there was. He had been in college, but he left his junior year to join. We tried to talk him out of it, but he made us realize that his calling was much bigger than us. We had to let him go."

Nelson hesitated, but the question had to be asked, "So, how'd he die, sir?"

Mrs. Wolkowsky broke right in, "Oh, you call us John and Carol. It's Nelson, isn't it?

We're very informal around here," she added as she held her arm out toward Splash, "with a big fluff of a dog like that around we can barely keep up on housecleaning never mind putting on airs about being fancy people or anything."

"Thank you, ma'am, uh, I mean Carol. Can you tell us where he served?"

"Oh, he was in Iraq," John said, "He was driving supplies back and forth between a couple of schools the troops were building for the Iraqi kids and a repair shop they set up for the army vehicles. He served three tours and he just kept on wanting to go back."

"So, what happened?" Nelson asked again.

"Well, son, there were all sorts of dangers along his route. There were roadside bombs, mines planted everywhere and those bastards even wired up some little kids to blow themselves up. It was hell, pure hell in some parts. Oh, they secured certain places like where they were building a couple of schools, but it was the roads they had to travel in between. Even with all the check points, there was always a big danger."

Carol broke in, "My gosh, so many of our boys came home with lost limbs. What a shame."

"Anyway," John went on, "One day when he was delivering, can you believe it, student books and soccer balls for the kids to play with, when, even after going through a check point, a little girl approached the truck and before they knew it, bam! It was all over. It took out the driver's door our son with it."

Both boys sat listening with their jaws dropped, "Oh, man," James said, "that's awful."

"Why do you think we went there to Iraq?" Nelson surprised his friend by asking.

"There's a lot of controversy over that, son," John said, "but I do know this. Some of the people there were being tortured and killed by Saddam Hussein and his two ruthless sons just for things like not making a goal at a soccer game or for being the husband of a woman who one of those demons wanted for his own. Thousands of them were killed for not going along with what that dictator wanted. They couldn't have opinions of their own and they weren't allowed to have guns and so most of them didn't know how to use them and even if they wanted to overthrow this man, they had no way of doing it by themselves. Saddam gassed thousands of his own people. He was one of the most ruthless men in history. He tried make Iraq a safe haven for terrorists, but even the terrorist preferred other places and so, although Saddam had a few training camps for terrorists, and he had all kinds of horrible weapons, there's a lot of question about whether he was enough of a danger to the rest of the world for us to take over."

"Do you think we shouldn't have gone there?" Nelson continued his questioning.

"I thought of it kind of like World War II, son. I'm not 100% sure the reasons we went there would completely satisfy those folks who like to live in their own world and turn a blind eye to places like that, thinking that it's just none of our business, but even if we went there just to free those people from the terror they lived every single day of their lives, well, I think that's what we're supposed to do. Just like when we went to rescue the people in the Nazi concentration camps. When we're made aware of such horrific things, if we can do something about it, we should. Now, I'm not saying that we did everything right, but I do think we had a moral obligation as the most powerful nation in the world, to do something to help. Our son believed that, too. He wrote us letters about how happy the children were when they came. A lot of people would try to say that the Iraqis didn't want us there either, but that's not true. Oh, there were some who wanted us to go home, but there were thousands who not only appreciated our help, but who risked their own lives to help us to help them."

"Would you boys like some cookies?" Carol asked.

"Oh, no ma'am, uh, Carol," James replied, "I think we're all set now."

"Thank you, John," Nelson said as he stood up and shook John's hand, "We've learned a lot here today."

Before the boys could leave, Carol stood up and took a photo down from the fireplace, "This is him," she said, "and these boys were his friends who served with him." She took down a second photo depicting Ryan with an Iraqi family, "and this couple were teachers at one of the schools Ryan helped to build. We still hear from them. They put up a little plaque on the wall of the classroom to remind the children of the sacrifices made for them. What a nice family."

"Thanks Mrs. Wolkowsky," James said and Nelson repeated.

"Thank you, John," Nelson added, "I'm really sorry about your son. We appreciate your time."

When the boys got into the car, James turned to Nelson, "Good job, kid." And as he started the car, he added, "Man, that blew my mind. Those guys go through a lot. And how bout that dog! Did you ever see anything like that?"

"No way." Nelson laughed out loud, "At first I thought it was a bear!"

"Anyway," James continued, "I knew it wasn't any picnic to be in a war, but man, it kind of brings it home when you actually see the family of a guy who died. At least those guys died for a good reason; though, not like my mom. You know, I think we take a lot for granted."

"Yeah, imagine they risk their lives just going to school with all those stupid mines everywhere."

Then, James reminded his friend, "To think; now we have to go and face that other family. I wonder if it could be any worse."

Soon the boys pulled up in front of the Reagan house. Nelson had called ahead on his cell phone to alert the family to their arrival and so the couple and one of their sons were waiting outside of their large Tudor style house. Mr. Reagan opened Nelson's door while James got out of the driver's seat with his hand already extended to greet Herb and his wife. Their son Tim had already turned back as if to guide everyone back into the house and so the boys hadn't even seen Tim's face. James noticed his limp and how he grasped the rail on the steps to the porch to boost himself up the stairs, leaving James to wonder what might have happened to him. It never occurred to James that it was anything but perhaps a recent accident or something.

Inside the house James and Nelson displayed their awe at the formality of the home's décor. Dark wood panels surrounded all the windows and entry ways to each room. They were directed to room that was slightly more casual than the living room they had passed. Red floral curtains covered the floor to ceiling windows and more neutral light colored carpets with red floral borders were purposefully placed around the room to designate several sitting areas where tan, aqua and red pillows accented the seating with color. Considering the dark floors and paneling, the room still felt bright and cheery with the light beaming through the windows.

Nelson whispered to James, "Whew, they must have a lots of..." as he rubbed his thumb against his fingers, but James eyes signaled his friend to avoid making his amazement too obvious.

When everyone was seated, the first thing Nelson and James noticed was Tim's face. His one sided disfigurement, although fairly severe, didn't distract from his welcoming smile or the handsome face that remained on the opposite side. By then, the boys also realized that one of Tim's legs was a prosthetic. Both turned their attention to Tim's parents to avoid staring.

"Thanks for allow us to interview you," Nelson began, "I'm sure it's not easy talking about your loss."

"We're really sorry," James added, "We just came from the Wolkwosky family and their story was pretty tough."

"Oh, I know them," Martha Reagan said, "We met them at the town meeting when they were voting on the memorial. I understand you boys are writing an essay for a contest the school is having. A very nice couple."

"Nelson here is entering," James said, "I'm just here for moral support."

Nelson felt more comfortable directing his questions to Herb and he was relieved when Mrs. Reagan excused herself to get a pot of coffee from the kitchen, "Can you tell us how your son died, Mr. Reagan?"

Herb settled back in the chunky chair, "Well, he served in Irag, first, and then served a couple of tours in Afghanistan. He got shot twice. Both times he came home, but he couldn't leave his buddies over there and so nothing we could say would prevent him from going back once he healed."

"Was it land mines, sir?" Nelson asked.

"Nope." Was the only word Mr. Reagan could speak without moisture filling up his eyes.

Then, Tim spoke up so that his dad could recover from the emotion that clearly still pulled at his heart, "My brother didn't die in Iraq or Afghanistan."

Nelson was confused, "Uh, he didn't? Uh, I mean, I'm..."

Equally thrown off guard, James broke in, directing his question to Mr. Reagan as he wiped his tears "Sir, he didn't die while serving in the military?"

Once again, Tim was the one who responded, "After being shot at; and possibly being responsible for saving his whole unit by dodging bullets to warn them of an oncoming raid, my brother made it home in one piece."

"But, he's dea..." Nelson barely blurted out.

Mrs. Reagan re-entered the room with a tray of biscuits and coffee, "Yes," she said stoically, "Our son died three years ago. He was hit by a drunk driver."

Tim added, "He went through hell over there, but he made it home. As fate would have it..."

And Mrs. Reagan interrupted, "God must have needed our son and so He took him."

"Oh, man, that's terrible." Clearly shaken, Nelson couldn't find suitable words.

But James took charge, "Is the guy in jail?"

"As a matter of fact," Martha Reagan said, "His license was suspended for a year and he got ninety days, but he's now working with us in our church program that goes to schools to talk about the dangers of drunk driving."

Nelson about fell off his chair, "No way. You mean he's working with you guys?"

Equally shocked, if not more so, James couldn't help but ask, "How can you stand to be around that guy after what he did to your son?"

By then, Herb had regained control. He often cried when his son's name came up, but after the first few tears, he'd somehow come back with a strength that was founded in their faith.

"We decided to go see him while he was still in jail. We weren't sure what to expect, but he was very remorseful. He begged for our forgiveness and told us he'd do anything to make up for what he had done. He said he didn't think he could live with himself and he promised to get treatment and never drink again."

"And you believed him?" James asked.

"Not at first," Herb continued, "We just walked away, but we checked up on him and found out that he had gone to treatment after he got out and six months later we saw an article in the paper that he was speaking at different functions about what he did and how he hoped his story would convince other adults not to go out to bars and then get in a car to drive."

"So," Mrs. Reagan added, "We contacted him and, after praying over it for a long time, we decided to ask him to join the program at our church. We go to schools all over the state and talk to the kids about drinking and driving. Seeing both him and the parents of the son he killed together had a more powerful impact on the children than either one of us speaking on our own."

She continued, "On the day we forgave him, we nearly flooded the place with all our tears, but it was worth it. A heavy burden was lifted not just from him, but from us. Oh, it would have been easy to hate him and to carry the weight of our anger around with us forever, but what good would that do?"

Mr. Reagan interjected, "It was easier for mama, but I came around pretty quick after that. We believe that none of our lives are without sin and sometimes we just don't even comprehend how many mistakes we might have made over the years. Sometimes we hurt people we don't even know about or we might make a mistake that negatively affects someone's life and not even realize it. So, it's important to forgive other people's mistakes, as bad as sometimes they can be, so that we can receive God's Grace ourselves."

Nelson built up the courage to ask Tim, "Is that what happened to you? A drunk driver?"

A slight smile appeared on Tim's twisted face, "No. This happened to me in Afghanistan. Mom didn't want me to join the military. She thought one son was enough risking his life, but after Herbie Junior came home safely and we knew he would spend the rest of his tour in the states, I joined up. They sent me directly to Afghanistan."

"..And he wasn't even in the more dangerous areas," Herb senior said, "He was training the Afghans to defend themselves when a Taliban person who had infiltrated the Afghan military tossed a grenade into their dining hall. Killed three regular army Afghans, two of ours and wounded about ten others."

"Does it hurt?" Nelson cautiously asked pointing to the side of his own face.

"Nah, not any more. I've had a few surgeries and next month I go for another one. They say they can make me look almost normal by the time they're done."

Nelson pointed to his own leg, "And the leg, does that hurt?"

"Aww, I'm used to it. In fact, I'll be riding in the bike race next month to raise money for wounded warriors."

"You're awesome people," James said, "You really are. I don't think I've ever met a more brave family. Thanks for letting us talk to you."

"Oh, you're welcome, James," Mrs. Reagan said as she refreshed her husband's coffee, "Would you like some more?"

"Hey," Tim said, "Maybe you two would like to join us in the ride next month."

"What a great idea," Mrs. Reagan added, "You'd meet some amazing boys and it's not just the wounded soldiers riding. It's anyone who wants to come."

James and Nelson checked for approval in each other's eyes, "I don't know," James said, "I think we'd like to for sure, but we have to check with our folks."

"Well, we're just so pleased that you came by, boys," Martha Reagan said, "We appreciate that you took the time and interest in learning about our service men. They don't get the recognition they deserve most times. It's refreshing that you two showed such an interest."

"Looks like the whole families don't get enough recognition, ma'am," Nelson said, "I can't imagine going through all the stuff you've gone through. I'll be sure to mention that in my essay."

"Why, thank you, Nelson," she replied, "That's really special. I hope you win that contest."

Nelson and James stood up to shake the hands of their hosts, "I'm feeling pretty good about that right now," Nelson said, "I don't think the other kids stand a chance with all the information you've given to us."

On the way home to Nelson's house, James congratulated his friend, "Nelson, my brother, I'm really proud of you. You did a great job in there. I don't think I realized just how smart you really are until today."

"What, you thought I was a dork brain?"

James laughed out loud, "No. Not a dork brain you knucklehead, but you can't deny that you're not the most outgoing kid on the block. You really showed your serious side. I mean, you related to them and your questions were great."

Nelson leaned back in the passenger seat, "Maybe I should be a reporter. I'd make a better one than Maggie will."

Putting aside his crush on Nelson's sister, James agreed, "Bro, I think you just might be the next Chris Wallace."

"Who's Chris Wallace?" a baffled Nelson asked causing James to laugh even louder.

"Don't you ever watch the news, kid?"

But there was no need for Nelson to answer. The two made jokes and talked about happy things the rest of the way to soften the profound impact of the conversation they had left behind. After dropping off Nelson, James returned home to his room and placed a call to Father Joseph.

"Hey, It's me James. I think I want to go see my dad. Can I do that?"
CHAPTER 25

It was early Saturday morning. Still groggy from sleep, James laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling thinking about the day ahead. He knew he was changing. It had been subtle, but he was seeing the world in a new way. Perhaps there was something to this forgiveness stuff, but he remained unsure. For the first time in his life, he found himself talking to God.

"Hey, God. It's me James. Oh, but you probably already know that. Anyway, I know I'm not too good at this religious stuff. I mean, I've really liked learning about you from the Bible and all, and I kind of like going to church, but I guess I never thought talking to you could really accomplish anything, you know?

So anyway, I'm going to see my dad today. Joseph, sorry God, I know we're supposed to call him Father Joseph, but I kind of thought from reading your book that you said you were the only Father and so I don't mean any disrespect to Joseph. I just can't call him Father. Maybe it's stupid for me to think that way and if it is, if you could find a way to let me know, I'll do whatever you think is right.

So God, I'm hoping you can contact me somehow. I'm really nervous about seeing my dad and I know I'm supposed to forgive him for what he did to mom, but I'm having a real hard time about that. I guess this is a little too big for me to handle alone and so I thought you might somehow help me to get through this. After I saw how the Reagans handled the guy who ran over their son. I mean, they forgave him after the guy got drunk and killed their son. The guy made it through all sorts of horrible stuff in the war, but he made it home okay and then that jerk of a, oh, sorry, I mean that guy killed him. No one made him drink. It was his fault that Herbie Junior got killed. How do you forgive the unforgiveable?

Anyway, here I am God, hoping that somehow someway you hear me and you can help me to forgive my dad. Now, Joseph says that dad is truly sorry and that he believes in you, now, after all those years of hating you. How can that happen, God?

But if it's true, everyone says that we have to forgive any person who asks for forgiveness. I can't do that on my own, God, and so I really need your help. I don't think if I just say it and don't mean it, it will be, you know, valid. So I need your help making me feel it inside. If you could do that for me, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks, God.

Oh, and I'm supposed to go through Jesus to talk to you and so consider this conversation in his name, okay? Uh, amen and thanks again."

James stayed still another few minutes and then gradually got up and dressed. He kissed Liz on her cheek after breakfast and then waited outside for Father Joseph. Every scenario he could imagine raced through his mind while he stood there, causing James to work himself up into an uncomfortable frenzy. Although relieved when Father Joseph pulled up, he was visibly shaken.

"You okay, son?" the priest asked.

"Yeah, I've just had a lot on my mind. Have you seen him lately?"

"Yes, I saw him last week."

"He's still, uh, you know, sorry for what he did?"

"Oh yes, he reads the Bible to his group every day and he talks to them about facing their demons and confessing their sins. He tells them that even if their apologies aren't accepted, it's important for them to do whatever their circumstances will allow to let the people they've harmed know how truly sorry they are."

"How do they do that being in jail and all?"

"Some of them talk to members of the clergy like me and ask them to pass along what they say. Some of them who have visitors tell them to pass it along and some of them just write it down on a piece of paper and keep it as part of their belongings and hold on to it in case they either get out or die. Most of them are in for a long time and so it's not easy for them to reach the outside, but they do what they can to kind of make their apology official. Truth be told, most of their victims will never know how they feel, and probably most of them don't care; but the fact that they go through the process helps them to find peace with God."

"But you still think it's important for me to forgive my dad?"

"Yes, I do. Your dad has already found his peace with God. Oh, he still feels the pain and sorrow over his deeds, but he can't change what he's done. Those feelings of torment will live inside him until God frees him, but he believes that when he dies, God will do just that. His concern is for you, James. He wants you to be released from the weight of hatred and revenge."

"I prayed today."

"You did? How did it feel?"

"I'm not sure. I guess it kind of felt good to get it all out there."

Father Joseph smiled, "Ah, yes, one of the great rewards of prayer. It's like lifting a heavy weight off your back, but that's just the beginning. Just wait until you see what happens when you keep praying."

"What, suddenly all the bad stuff will go away?"

"No. James. God doesn't work that way, but He hears your prayers and he answers them. Sometimes, you'll find that there is no doubt that whatever good thing happened came directly from God. Other times, well, it's more subtle. It might just be a change in menu so to speak. Something you might not even notice until a long time after, but He always listens and He always answers and whatever He does, it will be because He loves you so profoundly that only your best interest moves him. You know what? I think it would be a good idea for you to start a journal. Have you ever written in a journal, James?"

"No, sir."

"Well, there's a lot inside of you that needs to be addressed. Maybe putting it down on paper might give you some kind of release. Not only that, when you look back on it, it might give you a better insight into yourself. Your mom did that and it helped her get through some very difficult times."

James remembered when he first read the journal he found under the floor boards at his home. It brought back a vision of her when she talked to him about God and life.

Father Joseph added, "I keep a few journals for parishioners in the trunk of my car just for times like this. I have to say, I've recommended journals to a lot of my parishioners. I believe it can really help people get through situations in their lives that trouble them."

"Maybe. I guess it won't hurt to take one if you don't mind."

"You can talk to God in the journal, too, James. Remember, He does listen. Whether you write it down, think it or say it aloud, He hears you."

"Well, I sure hope He's moved on this one. I'm just not so sure how I can see dad's face without wanting to crush it."

"Let's take it one step at a time, James. We're here." Father Joseph said as he pulled into the parking lot. The two got out and as they made their way to the same room where they had met with James' dad before, the priest put his hand on James' back, "Now take a deep breath. God is right here with you and He won't let you down."

The door opened to James' dad already sitting there, chained as before, looking pitifully at his son, "Son, it's so good to see you."

Father Joseph hadn't told James' dad the reason for their visit. Like before, he left James and his dad on their own while he sat at the far end of the table ready to intervene only if necessary.

It still floored James to see his dad so aged, but this time he also saw gentleness in his dad's eyes that he hadn't remembered from their last encounter, "You feeling okay, dad?"

His dad smiled, revealing his rotting teeth, "Oh yes, son, I'm doing well. When I heard you were coming I was so happy."

"So I hear you're meeting with your group every day."

"Ah, yes, it keeps us busy and it keeps us on track, you know."

"So, do you have church in here?"

"Yes, son, we do. Not like the churches out there, but we meet with clergy every week, sometimes more often. Sometimes, it's Father Joseph here and sometimes it's a minister or a rabbi, but whoever it is, we learn about God and that's what's important."

James squirmed in his chair, "I find it hard to believe that you really believe in God."

"I know. I don't blame you. Lord knows, I didn't raise you to believe in God and I did everything I could to keep God out of our home, but I'm different now."

"Are you really or is this just a ploy to earn rewards like cigarettes or candy or something?"

"I guess it's true that I get more privileges because I've changed, but that's not why I did it. I'm telling you, when I saw what I had done to your mom, I had no choice anymore. Oh, at first, I didn't understand at all what I was feeling. I tried to kill myself here in prison one time, but after being in solitary for I don't know how long, and after Father Joseph came to see me, I knew that I had to face up to who I had been all my life and Father Joseph helped me to realize that what I was feeling was regret. When did you ever know me to feel regret for anything except for getting caught doing something bad? I never felt real sorrow inside before. He showed me that I still have a soul. Man, that was big, you know?"

"So how did you start actually believing in God?"

"Well, Father Joseph brought me a Bible. It was a Bible especially for teenagers. It made things easier to read and understand. I had nothing better to do and so I started reading it. Before you know it, after reading it and after a few more visits with Father Joseph, I realized that I was changing inside. I mean, really changing. I started to cry a lot. I guess the more I read and learned from Father Joseph, the more I felt badly about myself, but the good news was, Father Joseph helped me to realize that God forgives even idiot criminals like me. With all the regrets I had that weighed me down like a ton of bricks, there was hope. I learned that even in the darkest places where we take ourselves, there is light and we can reach it just like everybody else if we just follow the rules that God teaches us."

"So I guess I believe you. I'm still so darn angry at you and I still find it hard to even look at you, but I believe that somewhere inside that decrepit body of yours lies a soul, like you said. You need to know that although I do forgive you, I never will be back. I don't want to see you anymore. All I can see when I look at you is the man who killed my mom, but I don't know why. I can't explain it, but I believe you really do regret what you did. I pity you and I guess I do hope that God shows some kind of mercy on you. I hope you keep on do' in what you're do' in like go' in to church and all, and I hope you really do make peace with God. It's the only way I know how to forgive you, dad, by letting it go and then never seeing you again."

Tears flowed from Herman Varnas' eyes, "Oh, thank you, son. That means more to me than I can say. Thank you, son, thank you,"

The withered man reached out his chained arms and although James whole body tightened up, he stood up and moved toward his dad where he bent down to allow his dad to hold him, bringing tears to his own eyes as well. Without another word, James and Father Joseph left the room and walked back to the car. The silence continued all the way home until James got out of the car then walked over to the open window where the priest sat, "You were right. Thank you," was all James said and then he went inside where Liz was waiting at the kitchen table with a fresh pot of coffee.

"So, how was it?" she asked.

"You know, It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Do you feel any better?"

"I'm not sure. I don't have that knot in my stomach, but I guess I kind of feel blank right now, like nothing's inside."

"Mrs. McGregor would say that you've made room for better things to come inside your heart."

James put on a half-smile, "Liz, you're always so positive about everything."

"It's true. She would say that God emptied out the bad that was eating away at you so that He can fill it up with whatever He has planned for you."

"And what do you think that is?"

"Well, I don't know. He doesn't exactly communicate His next move to me," Liz teased, "But whatever it is, I'm sure it's something very good. By the way, did you and Nelson finish your essays for the contest?"

"You mean, did Nelson finish his essay. We were a team with me being his 'silent' partner."

"I'm still not sure I understand that, but I'm really proud of you for supporting Nelson. I still think you could have done a great job if you wrote one yourself."

"Maybe. I don't know. I'm not into writing anyway. I'd rather do experiments and stuff."

"That reminds me. Mr. Lang called. He said he has the results of your intelligence test. He asked that you stop in his class on Monday so he can go over it with you."

James didn't appear all that enthusiastic; although she was sure he was very curious about the results, "Sure. I'll make time. The winner of the contest should be posted by next Wednesday. I sure hope Nelson wins. That would be awesome."

"Look at you. Here you are about to learn whether or not you qualify as a genius and all you can think about is your friend. I don't know if you realize what a great young man you are."

"Not me." James grinned, "I'm just a kid from the hood who happens to be pretty good at a few nerdy things. I'm nothing special."

"Oh, my dear sweet boy. You have shown more character than most boys I've seen who have lived much more normal lives than you. You ought to be so proud of yourself."

It was a little more praise than James could handle and so he kissed Liz on her cheek and went to his room to study.
CHAPTER 26

"It's official, James. Not only are you a genius, but you are beyond a genius. You could easily simply quit High School right now and go straight to MIT."

"What's MIT?" James asked Mr. Lang.

"Only the best science and technology school in the country, my boy."

"But I don't want to quite High School. I want to graduate here with Nelson."

"For the life of me, I don't understand that, James. He'd still be your friend. You'll end up going to college anyway and most likely to different schools."

"Yeah, I know. It's more than that, I guess. I can't explain it. I just don't want to go away from the people who've helped me so much. It hasn't even been a year; yet, and I kind of depend on them. I like living with normal families and doing normal things with them, you know?"

Mr. Lang hated the fact that James was holding back, but he understood what the boy might be feeling, "Well, I guess there will always be time to fulfill your destiny after you graduate, but if you ever change your mind, I'll be the first one pushing you out the door," Mr. Lang paused for a minute, " I do have something I'd like to ask. Since you're going to be with us for the time being, I know some seniors who could use some help with their math classes. Would you be interested in tutoring them? I think some of their parents might even pay you if you went to their homes?"

It didn't take James long to think it over. He loved math and he didn't think Liz would mind if the parents of whoever he tutored would drive him home, "Hey that might be fun. Besides, maybe I won't have such a bad reputation once some of the older guys get to know me better."

"James, I don't think you have as bad a reputation as you think. Sure, you used to dress a little trough, but you've toned down quite a bit and word spreads when there's a kid in class who knows all the answers. If anything, a few of them might even be a little intimidated, not by your appearance, but by your smarts!" Mr. Lang chuckled, "I don't think I'll ever understand why you're choosing to stay at Tremont over advancement, but at least you'll be doing some real good while you're here."

"Thanks Mr. Lang. I know you want what's best for me. I really appreciate it. Oh, and by the way, I'll tell Liz and Charles about the test, but please don't let them know just how smart I am," he teased.

His teacher sighed, "Whatever you say, son. You really are something very special, you know, but okay, I promise not to over-do when I speak to your parents, uh, I mean to Chuck and Liz. I'd like to meet with you again in a month or so to go over your plans for when you do graduate, James. I want you to give some serious thought to that even though you still have another year after this. A lot can happen in a short time and just maybe, if you promise to really think about it, you might come up with a goal and I think, whatever it might end up being, I can help you move toward it."

Before James left the room, he looked back at Mr. Lang, "You know, Mr. Lang. They really are like my parents. I don't call them that out of respect for my mom, but living with them has made me feel more like I'm part of a normal family than I can ever remember. They mean a lot to me."

"I know. I know, son. I suppose you might do better if you spend more time living at home with them. You need to take the time to experience that kind of life, I guess. There's a part of me that wants to snap you up by your boot straps, but I really do understand."

James thanked him again and left for his next class. Later in the day he ran into Nelson in the hallway, "Hey kid, you finish your essay?"

"Yep. And if I do say so myself, I think it's a winner."

"Great, I can't wait to read it."

"I read Sally Menendez'. She's been showing it to everybody. She's sure she'll win, but I think mine is better."

"I can't believe she's letting everybody read hers. They don't have to be in until Wednesday morning. What if somebody takes her ideas?"

"It doesn't matter. I know I creamed her. I'll let you read it, but no one else. Hers is more like a takeoff on Lee Greenwood's song. You know, a patriotic song and all. It's all about..." Nelson mocked his competitor, "Let's remember those who died with great American pride. Let's keep the memory of men who died so we'd be free."

"Corny." James simply said, "Did she interview anyone?"

"I don't think so. At least if she did, there wasn't any mention of it in her paper."

"Great. Well, I'll see you later. I can't come over after school because Liz wants me to help her move some furniture around. She wants to re-arrange the living room." James chuckled.

"Women are like that. Mom does that about every six months."

"You okay with your algebra?"

"I'm good. I'll see you at assembly on Wednesday when," Nelson emphatically added with a bulging chest, "the win'na shall be announced!"

The two bumped fists and went their separate ways. James noticed a sense of satisfaction filling him up as he watched his friend strut down the hallway. He thought to himself 'you go kid' and he went about his day.

Somehow James felt almost giddy as though a weight had been lifted from him. Later that night, he realized how much he missed Rick. Knowing he wouldn't see him until he came home for Christmas, James wandered into Rick's room to seek the scents that reminded him of Rick's presence. He sat on the bed and gazed around the room until he noticed the copy Rick had made of the quote he kept in his wallet. James went closer to read the words 'Do not look forward in fear to the changes in life...'

James re-read the entire quote which reminded him of how profoundly the words affected Rick. Eventually, between Maggie's gift to him and her gentle manner of expressing her Christianity, Rick had opened himself up to Christ's teachings. Without realizing it, James found himself bowing his head and saying just three words 'Thank you, God.'

At the dinner table that night, James said to Liz, "I think I'd like to join the church."

She was taken off guard and asked, "What?"

"I think I'd like to join the church."

"You mean like with the formal ceremony and all?"

"Yes, I want it to be official. Can I do it next Sunday?"

Liz grinned, "Well, I'm not sure if they can just do it whenever, James. I think they wait until a few people want to join and then they set up a date to do it, but I'll ask Susan. She's been going to church a lot longer than I have and she might know best."

"Will you join with me?"

"Why yes, I think that would be wonderful. We'll do it together."

"Awesome."

"James, can I ask you what helped you to make this decision? Was it seeing your dad?"

He paused trying to find words that would best serve to describe the myriad of senses that brought him to this point, "I suppose that's part of it, but I think I've been coming to this place for a while. You know, I've been reading the Bible a lot, thinking I was reading it like it was a history book or something. But lately I realized that I've been trying to live my life according to what Jesus taught. I wasn't even really aware of it, but I've found myself checking myself when I was about to get angry or say or do something that didn't fit with what He said."

James chucked as he remembered his first conversation with Father Joseph, "Heck, I couldn't even bring myself to call Joe Father Joseph. Jesus said that we have only one father in heaven and so I told him that I'd have to call him something else. He seemed to understand, though, and told me his mother calls him just Joseph and so most of the time, I call him that, but plain Joe slips out pretty often."

"I've noticed that there's been a calm about you that wasn't there for a long time."

"After Nelson and I talked with those two military families, well, that kind of gave me the push I needed to face my dad again. Funny thing, at first, I mean when I first left the prison with Joe, I didn't feel much of anything, but on the way home all this stuff started going through my head and I actually felt relief. I didn't hate him anymore. Oh, I still hate what he did so much that I can't tell you, but I don't hate my dad anymore. He has to live the rest of his life for what he did and I just kind of pity him and I guess I'm even glad that he believes in God now. I guess that word forgiveness has a lot more meaning to me now. It's one heck of a powerful word."

"Indeed it is, James. I'm so very proud of you. You know, you inspire me. With all you've been through, you've turned out to be a young man of such integrity and courage. Of course, you've had to grow up way faster than you should have, but I'm just so proud of who you've become. I think it was in there all the time, but with all that hate and hurt inside, it just couldn't show through at first. I give a lot of credit to your mom. She had to be an amazing woman."

"Was I a pain when I first came to live with you?"

"Oh my gosh, no, James. You were hurting so badly. My Lord, you kept so much inside. It wasn't that you were bad, not ever. We just couldn't see who was inside because he was all locked up and afraid to come out."

"Yeah, I kind of keep things inside a lot. That's just the way I am I guess. You guys have been awesome, though, putting up with me and all."

Liz put her arms around the boy's waste, "James, you have no idea. We fell in love with you from day one. There was always something about you that drew us to you and Charles and I love you just as much as if you came from my own belly. Do you understand that? We love you so much."

Becoming a little fidgety with all the love talk, James kissed the top of her head and gently pushed her away, "I've got to study for an exam tomorrow." Then he spent the rest of the evening in his room, coming out only briefly to greet Charles when he came home from work.

At the assembly on Wednesday, Sally Menendez stepped over Nelson to get to her place a few seats down. She was overheard telling one of her friends that "it's a shoe in," which awakened a twitch in Nelson's gut where his confidence had been. He began to doubt the excellence of his essay and he worried that he might not have written a paper as perfectly as he originally thought.

James was in another part of the room sitting with his class, but he could see Nelson and waved to get his attention before he sat down. With the hope of encouraging his friend, James held his hand high with a thumbs-up. He realized that he hadn't had time to read Nelson's essay before the announcement, but after their discussions about the military families they interviewed, he was confident that Nelson's material far surpassed that of any of the other contenders.

With bated breath, the silent room burst into applause when Sally Menendez' name was announced, but the thump that slammed into Nelson's chest was quickly relieved when the Principal continued to say, "...Menendez is our first runner up and the winner is..." he paused, "Nelson McGregor. Congratulations Nelson. Please come forward to receive your certificate for the scholarship."

To his surprise, he saw that even the boys who had bullied him the year before stood up to clap and yell out "you go Nelson!" A loud whistle came from the part of the auditorium where James had been sitting and Nelson could see him as his friend stood up to face him with both clenched fists in the air.

The principal asked Nelson to read his essay after which cheers erupted in every corner of the room from both teachers and students. It was the first time that Nelson was made aware of how the other students seemed to respect him. When the assembly was over and the students were filing out of the auditorium, he heard things like "So glad Sally Superior didn't win!" and "awesome essay, Nelson" as they passed by him to shake his hand. James was one of the last to reach him and he lifted Nelson up in the air with a bear hug, "I knew you'd win, Bro, I just knew it."

Equally as excited, Nelson wiggled his way out of James' grip, "Hey, take it easy, man. Don't break the merchandise," and he grinned, " I did alright, huh?"

"You did amazing, and to think, in a week you'll be standing up in front of half the town reading that paper."

A sudden rush came over Nelson, "Oh my gosh, I forgot. I'm nervous already!"

"Hey kid, you the man. You can't let a few thousand people make you nervous."

"Maybe it'll rain and everybody'll stay home."

"Aww, come on. You'll be great. You'll have all the old ladies wiping their tears away after listening to you. Did you see your old buddies cheering you on? Wasn't that great?"

"Yeah, who'd of thought. They actually gave me a high five when they walked by."

"Cuz you the man, Bro, you the man."

After school Susan drove Nelson to the Fiore's so that the four of them could go get pizza and break the good news to Charles. Susan left her car at the house to let James drive because, now that he had his own car, it just wouldn't have been proper to be toted around by some old woman. James beeped the horn when he pulled into the parking lot causing Charles to peek out the window of the shop to see who was causing the commotion.

"Hey, stop with the horn," He said, "What's up?"

"Nelson won the contest," James replied, "He'll be reading his essay in front of the whole town next Saturday."

"Don't remind me," the boy said, "I'm a wreck already."

"Well, congratulations, Nelson. Come on in. We've been slow today and we have the place all to ourselves. Let's celebrate!"

"He won a two thousand dollar scholarship, too." Susan added, "Isn't he amazing?"

"Well, that's great. I think that deserves two extra-large pepperonis at the very least, don't you?"

"Honey," Liz asked, "Can you get the day off on Saturday?"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss Nelson's essay for anything. I've already arranged for cover and I will be there."

In spite of feeling stuffed to the brim after eating the pizzas, the meal was topped off with soft ice cream cones for everyone before James drove the ladies and Nelson back to his house for a quick cup of coffee. It was a late night for a school night, but Nelson slept like a baby dreaming of the large crowd he'd face on Saturday. All the praise he received pushed aside his apprehension and gave him more certainty that the event would be more than just a prideful ceremony, but it would mark another stake in his road to self-confidence.
CHAPTER 27

There was a much larger crowd at the memorial ceremony than there was at last year's Christmas Tree Lighting ceremony. Perhaps it was the gorgeous color emanating from the mid-October turning of the leaves that caused a number of tourists to stop by to take pictures of the tall polished cross reflecting the afternoon sun. From blocks away, the cross could be seen radiating through the vibrant trees.

James' focus was on his friend who was fidgeting with his paper as he scanned the mass looking for his mother. When he spotted her, Nelson's face softened with relief. He located James just a few feet away next to Liz and Charles and he smiled as James raised his hand in the air with a thumbs-up.

The elderly town treasurer opened the ceremony, "Uh hum," she tapped the microphone to make sure it was turned on, "Testing, one, two three." Once she was comfortable with the sound system, Mrs. Gilford adjusted her tweed jacket and began to speak more loudly than required for the large speakers on either side of the platform, "Welcome everyone! Thank you for coming here today and sharing this memorial ceremony with us to honor those who paid the ultimate sacrifice for our country."

She continued, "To my right you'll see our speakers. To my immediate right is Father Joseph who a lot of you know from Saint Mary's. He'll start us off with a prayer and next to him is Captain Josh Burk from the Tremont Police Department. A lot of you know he served himself in the Gulf War. Beside him over there is the winner of our essay contest, Nelson McGregor. He'll be reading his essay in a few minutes. And over there at the end is our fine Mayor Thompson. Now, sitting in the three rows to my left are family members of some of our lost soldiers."

Before Mrs. Gilford could go on, a ringing applause broke out from the audience in recognition of the service members' families. Once the clapping stopped, she asked Father Joseph to lead in prayer. Captain Burk spoke and then it was Nelson's turn. There had been a restriction in the length of the essays to five hundred words, but after reading it over and over in front of his mother, she assured him that he had captured the heart of the ceremony in his message. James smiled to himself as he noticed a bit of shaking in Nelson's legs when he approached the podium; however after mere seconds, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Imagine yourself driving along a quiet road on the way home from a trip to the Home Depot. It's a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly. You're carrying a load of wood in the bed of your truck and you're looking forward to working with your teen son to build a playhouse for your little girl.

Now, imagine that when you are just yards from your house, an explosion knocks the passenger door off your truck and blows the leg off your son. That's what routinely happens to the soldiers we've sent to Iraq and Afghanistan. No attacker to face. No warning. In one second a land mine changes your world.

And what had the soldiers done to deserve this?

They built a school or a hospital or a bridge for the people whose lives they freed from tyranny. They've taught men how to protect their families against those who would oppress them. And those who wish to control them are the same people whose very existence is based on a desire to wipe the United States of America and the entire free world off the face of the earth.

Now imagine yourselves living without your mom or your dad, your brother or your sister while those family members risk their lives in a foreign place so that you can be protected at home. Imagine being afraid to watch the news or panicking whenever an unexpected ring of your doorbell interrupts your suppertime. Imagine the struggles you might have raising your family for long periods of time without your partner. And now, imagine the sunken feeling of loss when you learn that your husband, mother, son or daughter will never come home again.

These men and women who serve our nation never complain. Rather they stand proud, full of honor and commitment while they serve in places none of us would dare to travel leaving those who remain at home gladly bearing the struggles of maintaining their homes here in the US.

This is why we memorialize those honorable men and women who have paid the ultimate price for us; for you and for me. Where they have gone, freedom of speech or expression was often nonexistent. Neither has the right to vote or to bear arms been permitted. Think of the things we take for granted, including the simple idea of getting an education or getting proper medical care when needed.

May we never take for granted these men and women who have given life and limb so that we who live in this great nation might continue to live as our forefathers intended as a free people. I am proud to be a part of honoring them here today."

Nelson received a standing ovation both from the audience and from the people on the platform. He crossed paths with Mayor Thompson as he returned to his seat, "Hey wait!" the mayor said, "you forgot your prize," he chucked as he motioned Nelson to return to the podium, "Great job, Nelson. You were able to sum it up really well in your essay and I'm proud to be able to hand you this certificate for a two thousand dollar scholarship to the school of your choice. You earned it, son."

As Nelson thanked the mayor, James noticed that Nelson was looking out beyond the chairs to the other side of the street with a surprised look on his face. James turned around to see what his friend had observed and he saw about eight or nine men and women standing in front of the library with picket signs. If the people on the stage had noticed, they didn't react, but the picketers were far enough away from the platform where their signs might have been difficult to read. He was sure they hadn't been there before the ceremony began, but as he watched the small group, several more people came from side streets and joined the demonstration. They began to shout, "Take down that cross. Take down that cross."

Immediately, Captain Burk got on his radio to the station. Ignoring the protestors, Mayor Thompson began his speech. With no further disruption other than the calls from the protestors, the ceremony continued with more speeches and a four gun salute at the end. After the ceremony, Mayor Thompson encouraged his neighbors to enjoy the improvements made to the park along with the construction of the memorial, "Friends, yes even you," He directed his words across the street, "whose right to your protest has been preserved by the very lives we honor here, might enjoy visiting these grounds and taking advantage of our fine gardens and walking paths. I ask that your respect our right to memorialize our lost soldiers just as we respect your right to demonstrate."

But the intruders never stopped there shouting. By the time the memorial service was over, there were more than twenty demonstrators pacing back and forth in front of the library. They never left the sidewalk, but three police cars parked across the street from them as a deterrent to further action. James saw Captain Burk walk over to speak with one of the men and as the crowd began to disperse. When the captain returned to the site of the cross, James stopped him to ask, "Are they the same people who my dad knew?"

"They're from the same organization. Don't know if they're the same people from last year. I've assigned a car to the park for the next week or so to keep an eye on things."

"They're crazy, Captain Burk, but they're smart. They won't do anything when they know you're watching. I don't trust them."

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do right now. They have a legal right to protest. As long as they don't cross the line, we'll have to put up with them for now."

James accepted Captain Burk's assessment, but he was nonetheless concerned. He found Nelson just as he was about to leave with his mom, "Hey, kid, that was a fantastic essay. You did good."

But Nelson was as skeptical as James and he had already put the excitement of winning the scholarship aside, "Those were the same dudes who tried to set our house on fire aren't they."

"No. The Laisve were the culprits who did the dirty work. These guys are part of the group who gave them the idea, though. My dad was tight with them. Look, Captain Burk said he'd have a car keep an eye on the park, but he can only do that for so long. I never thought of it before, but this would be a great place to take Sugar and Wolf for walks. We should start bringing them here and we can keep an eye out for anything suspicious. That way, they'll just think we're ordinary people walking our dogs and they won't think anything of it.

"You sure you want to mess with that?"

"Yeah, I don't trust those guys as far as I can throw them. They'll be back. Maybe not while there's a car patrolling, but I know them. They'll be back."

"So, you wanna come here after church on Sunday."

"Damn! I forgot. I'm joining the church on Sunday. So's mom."

"You didn't tell me that? When did you decide to do that?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while. I don't know. I just thought it was time. I've learned a lot about it over these past months and I think after we talked to those families for your essay, it just hit me that I wanted to be a part of the church."

"Whew, now there's a shocker. I knew you were interested in learning about all the history and stuff, but I never thought you'd actually want to join."

"So, you think I'm stupid for doing it?"

"Heck no. I think it's great. A lot of the kids at school think I'm too nice, you know?"

"You, too nice?" James laughed.

"Yeah, they know I'm a Christian and they think all of us are all sticky sweet and boring, but if you join, they'll have more respect. They'll see that if someone like you is open as a Christian, maybe it's not just for geeks."

"I guess no one would expect that of me, huh?" James chuckled, "Heck, I guess they look at it like it's almost as tough to come out as a Christian as it is to come out as gay. Maybe even worse. At least they accept gays."

"Well, I'm just say'n. You ain't your average church goer!" Nelson teased.

"Maybe, but who said you have to be all clean cut and stuff to be a Christian anyway?"

"Hey, you won't get any argument from me."

"So, after church, I'll pick you up and we can bring the dogs here. Maybe we can talk Liz and your mom into letting us go get pizza instead of eating at home. I wanna start bringing our dogs here from now on. Maybe by the time it's too dark to come after school, we won't see them around anymore anyway."

"Fine by me."

"Hey, your birthday is in a couple of weeks. Let's plan something for then."

"Like what? We can't go trick or treating at our age."

"No, but I've earned a few bucks by doing yard work around town. You should have seen old lady Beck. She wanted me to rake her leaves, but I did a few more things like sweeping her porch and trimming some shrubs and she went nuts afterwards. She was so happy she hugged me and insisted I take home a piece of her almond cake. Don't forget, I made a few bucks tutoring, too. I did pretty well and I can take us to the movies or something and maybe even out to eat to someplace different than pizza."

"You didn't charge half the kids you tutored. More than half. You told me you only charged those three rich kids who live over by where the pool is."

"Yeah, but I made enough and I did pretty well with the yard work. Don't worry, kid. I'm rich. I have plenty of moolah."

For once, a dark cloud didn't hang over Nelson's birthday. There were no more fears about curses or being teased by bullies in the hallways. About the smartest kid in school was his best friend and tutor; and with his winning essay, he had gained the respect of both teachers and students. At last he looked forward to his special day, but first things first. Sunday would be James' special day as he became a formal member of the Colonial Baptist Church.

"Charles," Liz declared, "You're tie's on crooked." And she loosened the tie to re-assemble it around Charles' neck.

"Come on," he rushed his wife, "James picked up Nelson twenty minutes ago. They're probably waiting for us at the church."

"Aren't you so proud of him?" Liz asked while brushing the lint from her husband's shoulders.

"And you, too! It's a big day for both of you."

"Yes, I'm glad we're joining the church. It kind of seals our relationship, don't you think?"

"Honey, your relationship is already sealed. He's as much our son as if you gave birth to him. I can't imagine life without him."

"I know. And he's come such a long, long way. You know, I never thought about having a second child until he came into our family. God has truly blessed us, Charles. He's got such a good heart. Who would have thought coming from that family he could have turned out so well."

"It's like he was destined to be with us."

"Yes, I think God planned it this way. He gave James such a good mother to give him just enough of what he needed to get through those horrible days God knew he'd face. I'm not sure why God chose us to care for him, but I'm so glad He did."

"Hey, we've got to get going."

But before they exited the house, Liz turned to ask him one more time, "Charles, are you sure you don't want to stand with us?"

"Not this time, Honey, but I'm so proud of you two. Maybe down the road. I'm just not ready to take that step yet, but I promise; I'll give it some more thought. Now, come on. We've got to go."

James and Nelson were standing on the church steps with Susan when Charles and Liz arrived. Liz choked up as James' tall figure stood so handsomely in his dark suit and tie, "Will you look at him?" she said while opening the car door, "Oh my Lord," she wiped her eyes, "I don't want my mascara to run all over the place."

Together the two families walked into the sanctuary and took their seats close to the front. James listened intently as Pastor Agnes spoke. He hung on to every word of her sermon titled 'Being Reborn into Faith' and he smiled as he heard Liz singing 'Just a Closer Walk with Thee' totally off key during the second hymn. He glanced up and down the pew at the people who had become his family; overwhelmed, but still melancholy with the absence of Maggie and Rick.

Then, he and Liz stood before the pastor and recited their words of commitment to the church. When they had finished, the congregation stood up with applause and sang the closing hymn 'Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee, God of Glory, Lord of Love...'

After the service, the two families shared a meal at the McGregor's. With the last bite of blueberry pie; James and Nelson excused themselves to take Wolf and Sugar to the park. In the back of his mind, James pictured the faces of the atheists who had disrupted the memorial ceremony. He didn't really expect to see any of them there, but he did notice a familiar face standing across the street when he stopped back at his home to pick up Sugar. He tried to connect the face to the people who protested at the park, but he ended up ignoring the warning inside him as he pushed the image aside, choosing instead to enjoy the afternoon with his friend.

"So, do you feel any different?" Nelson asked when they got back in the car.

"Nah, not really. I think I felt different when I went through that stuff with my dad and when we did those interviews, but now I'm just..." and he thought, "I mean, I guess I'm a little different, but it kind of just happened. No big bang or anything."

"Do you feel funny about talking about God?"

"I did before. I mean, like when I lived with my dad and brother. Heck, I wouldn't have dared to talk about God back then, but I don't know. I guess when my mom first started explaining things to me, I thought about God more. I think when I started going to church with you guys and reading the bible, I kind of thought about talking about Jesus and God like they were just a regular part of history like Lincoln or Kennedy. I understand more, now, that Christ is much more than that."

"Yeah, but we still get funny looks from people when they hear us mention God."

"I know, but I don't care. Do you?"

"Sometimes, it bothers me. They make me feel like I'm crazy or something just because I believe in God."

At that time, James pulled into a parking space next to the park and stopped the car, "Look, you shouldn't care what other people think. I mean, if you think anything, you should feel sorry for them. I learned that Jesus is love and no matter what stupid things we've done in our lives, He still loves us and that's pretty darn incredible. Knowing that there's a being that wants the very best for us all the time no matter what, I mean, who can beat that?"

"Yeah, it's like those guys aren't happy unless there's some kind of misery around. If they can't make fun of us or bully us, they ain't got noth'in."

James put his hand on Nelson's shoulder as the two young men loosened the leashes to allow the dogs to wander and sniff in their own world ahead of them, "Kid, I know what it's like to have nothing. It ain't pretty. I know what it's like to be empty inside and to feel so darn hopeless that I wanted to die. Never give those guys that kind of power over you. You are the one with dreams. You are the one with something to believe in. What they got is zero. Like you said, they ain't got noth'in. They can only make you feel bad if you let them and I, for one, ain't gunna let'm."

The boys brought the dogs to a fenced in area where they sat on a bench while the dogs ran loose, "Did you see that guy outside my house?" James asked.

"Nah, I didn't notice anyone."

"He was standing by the mail box across the street."

"He was probably dropping off some mail."

"I don't think so. It was just the way he stood there. It would've taken him two seconds to drop off a letter, but he was standing there like he was waiting for something."

"I didn't see anybody. He probably walked away and you just didn't see that because we drove off."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm probably making something from nothing. Hey, look at those dogs! We should walk them together more often. Look how they're playing. Hey, Wolfy misses Sugar. He misses his mamma. Look at them." James reached in his pocket and tossed an old baseball out into the grass, "They're like two best friends, racing around all over the place."

They sat there for another hour or so and then James drove Nelson and Wolf back home. When James pulled up in front of the McGregor house, Nelson said to his friend, "This was nice, you know? I liked just hanging out with the dogs."

"And you ain't so bad either, kid," James teased, "Don't forget, I'm taking you to the movies for your birthday. That sci-fi thing, what is it? The one where those tall skinny humanoids come down and land in the Gulf of Mexico..."

"You mean 'The Peacemakers' movie?"

"Yeah, that's it. The one where everybody thinks they're good guys, but they're really just the advanced team for some really evil bad dudes. We can go see that. I'm pretty sure it'll still be playing on your birthday."

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks for today. I had fun."

"See ya, Bro."

James noticed that the same person he'd seen earlier was further down the street walking in the opposite direction from his house. Liz and Charles were home by then and were raking leaves outside. After parking his car, he tied Sugar to a run he had set up between two large trees in the back yard and he took the remaining two hours of daylight to help them with their yard work.

That night, rather than dwell upon the stranger he had seen earlier, James leaned himself up against the headboard on his bed and began to read 'The Idiot's Guide to Prayer'; a very helpful tool Father Joseph had given to him shortly after his last visit with his dad.

James read for about an hour; then, he turned on his computer to send an email to Rick. He told Rick about joining the church and about the nice walk he'd taken with Nelson and the dogs. It had been awesome to watch the dogs' reunion and he told Rick about their plans to continue bringing them to the park to play.

He missed being able to chill out with Rick in his room after supper. Often, they'd play video games, but what meant the most to James were the talks they had. Rick couldn't really relate to the dark place James knew when he lived with his dad and Slice, but he seemed to have a way about him that made James feel secure.

No. Secure wasn't even the right word. It was more a feeling of contentment. It was more like he was grateful to know that people like Rick existed who were bright and level headed combined with having compassion and kindness. These were characteristics of strength rather than weakness. James marveled at Rick's confidence in who he was. Sure, he had questions sometimes, especially when it related to faith, but Rick never shunned the ideas that Maggie introduced him to and he wasn't so bloated that he would dismiss her beliefs. Rather, he was very willing to study them in earnest. In fact, his own faith matured through his relationship with her.

Rick's example had given James the courage to examine his own life's values and to seek knowledge where he had never dared to explore just months before they met. James asked Rick in his email if he knew, yet, when he'd be home. Although it was two months away, James would often visualize Rick's homecoming. He marked each day on his calendar with the countdown. Each time they corresponded, he pressed Rick for the specific date of his flight home. He never knew when Rick would respond to his emails, but more often than not; it was within a day or two at the most.

For the next few days after school, James would tie Sugar up on her run and he rake more leaves so that Liz and Charles wouldn't have to take up their limited time together with yard work. He'd race back and forth along the length of the run, teasing the dog by coaxing her to come into his arms while he stood just beyond the reach of her leash, but then he'd fall to the ground and smother the dog with brushing hands while he rubbed Sugar's ears and kissed her nose.

James followed the same routine every afternoon after school until the Friday of Halloween. Tremont had let out at noon for a teacher's meeting, leaving the afternoon free for the boys to celebrate. Nelson was waiting outside on the school steps when James slid down the rail beside him, "Hot Diggity! Let's get on out'a here. The Peacemakers doesn't start until two fifteen so we'll eat first."

"Where we go'n?" Nelson called out while chasing James to his car.

"You'll find out when we get there," James went around his car and opened the passenger door, "Hop in, Bro."

Nelson looked around to make sure no one saw James open the door for him and then got in, "Man, don't go opening doors for me, okay?"

James laughed teasingly, "Ah, but you're my date today."

"Hey, stop it! People will think, uh, you know. Just cut it out, okay?"

Still grinning, James ignored Nelson's discomfort, "What's your favorite food?"

"Uh, a burger I guess."

"No, much bigger than that. What do you like that your mom almost never cooks?"

"You mean thick juicy steaks with mashed potatoes?"

James glanced at his friend with wide excited eyes, "Ah Ha! That's it! And where do people go when they want the best steak in town?"

"The Sizzler?"

"Heck no. Better than that. Think. It's only a couple of buildings down from the movies."

"We're going to Texas Charley's?"

"That's the place, my friend!"

"Whoa, my mouth is watering already."

They sang 'Save a Horse; Ride a Cowboy' along the way until James pulled up in front of the large steakhouse with giant steer statues on either side of the walkway. Cattle cries blared through the speakers above the bull horns over the entrance door. The boys noticed the stools shaped like saddles surrounding the dimply lit, oval bar to their left, but they turned to their right where a man wearing a ten gallon hat and full cowboy attire waited to seat them.

Totally impressed with the ranch style surroundings, Nelson never closed is wide open jaw while the host lead them to one of the high back booths, "My God, this is awesome!" he said.

"Can you smell that? It's like they're grilling right here in this room."

"They practically are," Nelson pointed out the huge glass enclosed area in the center of the room where chefs were flipping steaks on a grill, "How can you afford a place like this?"

"To tell the truth, it's not all that expensive. It's a tourist place. Haven't you ever eaten here before?"

"No way. Mom only takes us to 'family' restaurants like Friendly's or the diner near the church."

"Well, this is your day, kid. Pick out anything you want, but keep room for ice cream. You should see the sundaes they make here."

"How'd you know that? Have you eaten here before?"

"No," James teased, "I saw a picture of it on the window outside where we came in. It looked awesome."

A cowgirl waitress took their orders and, guessing that Nelson was too young, she asked James if he wanted something from the bar, but James replied with a sly smile, "Hey, you wanna go to jail, pretty lady? You never checked my ID."

"So, Honey" she asked with a slight attitude, "Are you old enough?"

Enjoying the game, James continued, "Woman, I'm a man of God. I don't drink, smoke or use drugs. I like to keep my mind and body free from the poisons of life."

"Oh, brother," Nelson said sinking his face into his open palms.

Not sure how to take James, the waitress continued with their order changing her wording from offerings from the bar to suggestions of a variety of teas, coffee or soda pop, "Our specialty is the best root beer ever; if you're interested." She made gestures with her hands, "It comes in a huge mug and it's got foam on top. Its homemade right here and it's the perfect refreshment to go with our steaks."

"That'll do it, they both said at once."

The boys each ordered big steaks. James ordered French fries, but Nelson insisted upon a large pile of garlic mashed potatoes smothered in mushroom gravy. After devouring the steaks, the boys finished off their meal with double chocolate sundaes drenched in peanut butter sauce and hot fudge; which notably hit them like a ton of bricks when they got up to leave.

"Oh, man, I can barely move." Nelson said, "Thanks for lunch. It didn't kill me, but it might before the day's out."

James also moaned about his overeating, "Yeah, but if we have to go, it was worth it. I never tasted anything that good. We can crash in the theater."

"Hey," Nelson blurted out, "You know, there's something I've wanted to say to you for a long time."

"What's that?"

"I don't want to put a damper on this great time or anything."

"What Nelson?"

"Well, I just want to tell you that I know your mom saved my life. I mean, if she hadn't come out there, well, you know. I just wanted to say I'm really grateful and, if you don't mind, I'd like to go with you next time you go visit her grave. I know I've been there with you before, but I never like said it out loud or anything and I want to, you know, tell her that I know."

"Whoa, man, I didn't expect that," James took a sip from his water glass, "Uh,..." He stared straight into Nelson's eyes, "Sure, we can go there on the way home. I'd like to see her, too. You're alright, kid."

Then James changed direction as abruptly as Nelson had thrown him off course, "So, do you think we can manage to move these bodies out to the car?"

"I don't know about you," Nelson laughed, "But I don't think I'll eat for a week!"

They mockingly held their bellies and pretended to vomit on the way to the car and then James drove the short distance to the parking lot at the Twin Cinema complex. The theater wasn't too crowded since it was still late afternoon, but it was clear by the yelping and hollering that the other movie goers were also teens. By the time the boys headed out, they were both pretty well exhausted with no regrets about spending their Halloween night in the arms of their favorite chairs at home.

Later, after dropping off Nelson, James greeted Liz with a kiss on her cheek in the kitchen as she stirred a pot of meatballs, "Hey, James, how was the movie?"

"Not bad. I think you'd like it. It didn't just have monster stuff in it, but it had a lot of suspense too, but don't go during the day time. I could hardly hear with the kids making so much noise."

Liz grinned, "...and I suppose you two sat there nice and quiet," She continued, "Maybe I can get Susan to go with me sometime. We'll see. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Do you have any homework?"

James nearly tossed his cookies, "Liz, I don't think I can eat anything tonight. We kind of overdid it at the restaurant."

"I thought you looked a little wheezy," she smiled, "Did you go to Texas Charley's like I told you?"

"Sure did. I think it was the ice cream that got to us." He groaned.

"A bit too much, huh. Why don't you go lie down for a while? You can do your homework later. I nearly forgot. Can you bring Sugar inside? I left her on the run while I was hanging some towels on the line about a half hour ago. I came inside to get more pins when the doorbell rang. Would you believe it? I forgot her! You should have seen how cute the kids looked. One was dressed like Raggedy Ann with her red cheeks and little red nose. She was so darling! Good thing it was warm enough for the kids not to have to wear heavy coats. My, my, they were so cute," she continued, "Oh, and I heard from one of the ladies from church that you raked her whole lawn and didn't charge her."

"Miss Alavarez?. That lady barely gets by. Look at her house. I couldn't charge her."

"You're a very sweet boy, James. That was so nice of you."

James headed for the back door, "Sorry I missed the kids. I'll stay up in case more come."

He retrieved Sugar and settled down in the living room with the dog curled up next to him and he watched TV until the next group of costumed children came to the door.

Meanwhile, in another world at Chandler South Penitentiary where his brother was serving his time, a guard was found chatting with Slice through the bars of his cell.

"So, you think you can get me one of those new fancy phones and I won't even have to pay for service?"

"I can get you a lot more than that if I had access to the outside," Phillip answered with sly arrogance, "I can get you a dozen of them and the state will pay for every single one. You can supply all your friends and your whole family, but I can't do it if I can't contact my friends, ya know. I can get you enough where you can even sell them and you can make a bundle."

"If you had access to a computer, would that help?"

"Sure. Either that or a cell with texting on it."

"I don't have that, but I think I might be able to get you a computer. Can you contact your friends through it?"

"Absolutely, but I have conditions. You'll need to give me access every day and the computer will need a video cam. I'll want some better grub for dinner, too, and I need some weed."

"Whoa, I could get in a hell of a lot of trouble for this. The computer is one thing, and I think I can arrange for some better food, but no drugs, not even weed."

"Okay. I guess that'll do, but after you see what I can do for you, the stakes will be higher and I might need to renegotiate."

So, it began. Slice was all too aware how greed could tarnish even the most noble intentions and prison guards were no exception. He had no doubt that through his connections; he could persuade one of his old friends to help him satisfy his thirst for revenge.
CHAPTER 28

After his last class, James stopped by Mr. Lang's classroom to see if he was still there. It was after Thanksgiving break and James had taken his teacher's advice to give a great deal of thought to his future.

"Hey James. What's up?"

"Remember you asked me to think about what I want to be?"

"Yes, have you decided on something?"

"Yeah, I think I have, but you can't tell anyone, alright?"

Mr. Lang's curiosity was aroused, "Why, I thought you wanted to teach? Have you changed your mind?"

"I think so, but I want to hear what you think about it."

For over an hour James poured out his ideas and dreams to his mentor who listened intensely. James watched his teacher get up from his chair to pace with his hands held behind his back as he tried to absorb every word.

"So what do you think?" James asked.

"My, my. It's certainly not what I expected."

"You think it's a bad idea?"

"No, no. It's a great idea. It's just that I never would have imagined you going into that profession."

"Yeah, me neither, but I promise, I really have thought about it a whole lot; even before you told me to. I think it's been in the back of my mind even before we came back to school this year. Maybe way in the back, but there's been something gnawing at me a long time. I just didn't realize what it was until after you told me to start taking it more seriously."

"Are you absolutely sure that's what you want to do."

"I have no doubt, Mr. Lang."

"Well then, I think I can help you. There are some tests you can take to show that you already have enough knowledge to get into college now, skipping the rest of high school."

James interrupted, "I don't want to go now, Mr. Lang. I want to finish my junior year. I need time to get everybody used to the idea, you know?"

"Well, okay. I still think we can do this. I suppose by the time we get all the testing done and get through the paperwork, it'll be nearly year's end anyway. Have you told Liz and Charles?"

"No, I haven't told anyone. I probably should tell Nelson, first. I think he'll be fine once he settles into the idea. He's made a lot of new friends since he won that contest, but I still don't want him to hear about it from anyone but me."

"You don't think you should tell Liz and Charles first?"

"I'll tell them soon, but I know Nelson will keep it a secret and it might take me a bit before I find the right time to tell everyone else. He won't say anything, I'm sure."

"If you say so. I have to say, James, you are one incredible person. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mr. Lang. Maybe I'll wait and tell the whole family when Rick gets home. I'd like to tell them all together; maybe over supper on the day Rick gets home from college."

"When is he coming home?"

"I think it'll be the Thursday before the tree lighting ceremony. I think Maggie will be home a few days earlier, but I'll let Rick tell her. At least, if they still like each other so much when they both come home."

"From what you told me, they were very close, weren't they?"

"Yeah, but I think they ended up more friends than anything."

"Well, if it was a good friendship, it will endure. I'm sure they'll be calling each other up the minute they get back in town."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I hope so. I really miss them both and I can hardly wait to see them."

"Have you kept in touch with them?"

"Almost every day. Mostly with Rick. He and I email each other all the time. I don't have Skype on my computer, but when I'm over Nelson's, I've talked to both Maggie and Rick live sometimes. It's really cool."

"If it weren't for you students, I wouldn't even know what Skype is, bit I agree, it's fascinating."

"Well, I have to go now, but I'll call you when I get the file for you to take the tests." And before James left the room, Mr. Lang called to him, "James, I really do think it's a good decision. I can't think of a person I know who would do better at that than you."

"Thanks, Mr. Lang. Thanks for everything."

With that, James picked up Nelson from junior basketball practice and shared his news on the way home. At first, Nelson was totally bummed, but after James encouraged Nelson and reminded him about all the new friends he had made, James' younger friend's concerns were eased. Calling out to Nelson as he was about to open the front door of his house, James said, "Hey, Bro. I just realized something."

"What's that? You changed your mind and you can't leave your best friend behind and you've decided to stay at Tremont?"

"No. I've realized that Wolfman has grown. You shot up before I knew it and now look at you, you're a regular lean, mean basketball machine."

Nelson tilted his head to the side waving two thumbs up to his friend, "That I am, man, and I'll be taller than you by next week!"

The first heavy snowfall arrived several days later. James walked around to neighbors he knew weren't really well off, shoveling their walkways a few driveways. With it still being November, the weather cleared out almost as quickly as it had arrived, but it remained cold enough to freeze the pond. Nearly every weekend after a few chores, James would pick his friend to go skating. Sometimes they brought Sugar and Wolf, but more often, realizing that the chill could affect the small dogs, they were left behind

Folks in town had begun to put out their nativities, some with Santa and reindeer sharing the front lawns with lighted crosses. It wasn't unusual to see statutes of the Virgin Mary set tall in dormant gardens with some sort of lighted decoration surrounding her for the holiday season.

James would often sit by the window in his room while writing in his journal looking down the road at the ornate street lights that were covered with weather proof garland and bells hanging from the lanterns. Although it was a cheerful season, a melancholy James often drifted into memories of the devastating moments that still taunted him.

Outwardly, James was as hyper as the next guy when it came to Christmas, but although he found gratitude for the path on which God had taken him, his heart couldn't shake the overwhelming loss that still pinched each time he heard the Christmas music Liz played on her radio in the kitchen.

During one of those times when James was engrossed with his journal, he heard his computer sound the alert to an incoming email. Since he was sure it had to be Rick, he dropped what he was doing to view the communication, but it wasn't from Rick.

"Remember me?" it read.

He thought perhaps it was Maggie surprising him with notice that she'd be coming home early, but when it was followed by, "I remember you," James became suspicious.

James typed back to the address that was only identified with the name Bucky, "Who are you and what do you want?"

But the person didn't explain. Instead the messenger asked, "Are dogs really man's best friend?"

Another response came through, "Have you checked your dog lately?"

Frantically leaving the computer as it was, James ran throughout the house calling to his dog, "Sugar! Come here Sugar?"

But he couldn't find her. Listening to Christmas music on the radio,Liz was washing dishes in the kitchen and James went to her asking, "Have you seen Sugar?"

"Of course, dear. I walked her this morning. She's fine. I guess maybe it's about time to take her for a walk again."

"Where is she?"

"The last I saw her, she was lying down in her bed in the den. She went right to it the instant we got home. She must be tired today. Why? What's wrong?"

James didn't answer. Instead, he returned to the den calling his dog's name. He finally spotted Sugar stretched straight out in a corner by the fireplace, partially hidden behind the log rack. He tried to wake her, but she didn't move.

"Liz, come here!" he shouted and Liz came running.

"She's not moving!" he said, "I can't wake her up!"

Sugar's mouth and throat were covered with a mucus-like substance, "My God, she looks awful!"

James scanned the area around Sugar. He smelled her droppings and he saw vomit spread all around. Around her body, her bed was red with her blood. Her nose, dripping with mucus touched her bed as though she had struggled to reach a place of comfort before she took her last breath.

Panicked, Liz knelt down by the dog, "What's a matter, Sugar? Come on. Wake up, girl. Oh, look at this mess! My God, what could have happened to her?"

But the dog lay still. Not knowing what else to do, instinct drew Liz back to the kitchen where she grabbed some paper towels to pick up the foul excretions.

James took the spray bottle from her hand and, with his other hand, he took hers into his, "Liz, stop. She's gone, Liz! I'll clean it up."

"That can't be!" Liz cried, "He was fine! Gosh, I had that stupid radio on so darn loud. He could have been in such pain. How could I miss all this?"

"It's alright, Liz." He gently moved her back.

James gathered the small dog up in his arms and laid him in his bed, "Leave her for now. I'll finish this," and then he asked her, "Did anything out of the ordinary happen when you were walking him?"

"Well, no. I don't think so. Somebody threw some food out of a car that passed us and Sugar ate it before I could stop her, but I don't know what it was. She was fine and she just kept walking. When we got home, she went right to her room and...," again Liz cried out, "She probably was crying and suffering so much and stupid me didn't hear her."

"Please, Liz. It's not your fault." He pulled her close to him and comforted her in his arms, "I'm taking her to the vet," James said, "I want to know what she ate," He left the rest of the cleaning for later and then wrapped Sugar's dog blanket around her before he carried her outside.

"Oh Lord," Liz whimpered behind him, "She couldn't have died from what she ate, could she?"

Liz followed behind James as he carried Sugar to the car. They drove her to the animal clinic where they were told she'd have to stay overnight for testing. The vet promised to call with the outcome as soon as possible, but James made sure before he left that Sugar's body was to be saved so that she could be buried at home.

Upon arrival back at the house, yet another message awaited.

"God is great. God is good. Bye, Bye Doggie," but then it disappeared along with any trace of its sender.

Suspecting that whoever it was, had something to do with the stranger he had seen around his house weeks before, James called Detective Sanchez. He wasn't completely surprised to learn that the detective had already been made aware of some other local incidents, "I've received a number of calls. Folks in your neighborhood say that some of their outdoor religious symbols have been vandalized with black spray paint."

James set down the phone without explanation and ran outside. He checked the nativity in front of their house which was off to the side. Sure enough, their nativity was ruined. Detective Sanchez was still there when James got back to the phone, "It was them. It was those ignorant bastards," he said to Sanchez.

"They got to your house, too?"

"Yeah, they sprayed black paint all over our yard."

"Well, I have an idea of who might be involved."

"Who?"

"I don't want to say just yet. We need more to go on."

"I knew it. Nelson and I kept seeing this strange guy hanging around. I knew I should have said something back then. We noticed this guy just showing up at the oddest places. He was at the park weeks back when we were walking the dog. I got this stupid message on my computer, too. How could they get into my computer?"

"You mean you got a message about the dog?"

"Yeah, it said something like' bye bye doggie,' but then it just disappeared. I freaked out."

"Remember you have your brother's computer, James. We cleaned a lot of the information he had off the computer before we gave it back to you, but there might be something on it that he knows about."

"But he's in jail? How could he get to my computer?"

"I don't know, son, but that sure makes me wonder what's going on at that prison. You said you saw some stranger around town. Do you think you could come down to the station and help our sketch artist with it?"

"Sure. No problem. I'll come by tomorrow."

Suddenly a frightening thought came to James, "Hey, I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow." And he hung up the phone only to pick it up again to dial his friend.

Susan answered, "Hello."

"Mrs. McGregor, is Nelson around?"

Confused by his question, she replied, "Yes, Nelson just took the dog outside."

"Please, go get him. It's urgent."

"Why, what's wrong?" apprehension grew in her voice.

"Please, Mrs. McGregor. Please just please go get him right now."

She laid the phone on the table and called to Nelson to bring him inside.

"What's up, Bro?" Nelson asked.

"Is Wolf okay?"

"Yeah, he's just outside the door. What's so urgent?"

"Go get him NOW!"

Nelson questioned him again, "Why, he won't go anywhere. He stays by the house."

"NELSON, GO GET HIM NOW!"

Meanwhile, Susan McGregor overheard the shouting and went outside to bring Wolf back into the house.

"He's here," Nelson said, "Now, tell me what's going on."

"Is he alright?" James asked.

"He's fine, why?"

"Did he eat anything outside?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nelson, did he eat anything while you were out there?"

"No, and I'm not going to answer another question until you tell me what's going on?"

"That guy we've been seeing around? I think he's part of that atheist group who bothered us at the memorial ceremony. Did Wolf eat anything outside that you know of today at all?"

"No. What did the guy do?"

"Sugar is dead."

Shocked, Nelson cried out, "Shit, man, what happened?" It wasn't normal for Nelson to swear, but he was completely blown away.

"I'm not sure. Someone threw something out of a car toward him when Liz was walking him and whatever it was; Sugar ate it before she could stop him. Whatever it was, it killed him."

"What was it?" Nelson asked too upset to realize that James just indicated that he didn't know.

But James didn't notice, "I don't know. The vet is doing an autopsy and he'll call us as soon as he knows."

"Did you call the police?"

"Yeah, I talked to Detective Sanchez. He said a lot of people's yard decorations have been spray painted with black paint. Go outside and check yours."

Nelson did and then came back to James, "Everything looks good."

"Well, they probably just didn't get to your street yet, but maybe you should mussel the dog when you take him out until they find this guy. Don't let him eat anything."

"Do the police have any idea who it is?"

"I'm going to the station tomorrow to help them make up a sketch. Do you want to come with me? You saw him, too, one time. Maybe between the two of us we can give them something to work with."

"Yeah, but do you think he did all that by himself?"

James paused, "Probably not, but he's the only one I remember seeing around. Maybe he was just staking out the territory so that his friends would know where their targets would be."

"Hey, man," Nelson said, "I'm really sorry about Sugar. How you doing?"

"I haven't had time to let it sink in. I'm so worked up that I just can't think."

"I can't believe we're going through this stuff again. Now, we have to be afraid around our own house again?"

"I know, but I know Detective Sanchez. Watch outside your window for a while and I'll bet anything you'll see cop cars going by. I'll bet he's got them out all over the neighborhood already. Just keep an eye out. I know he'll catch these guys, but so far, there isn't much to go on. With it getting dark so early, they probably sneaked in and just did their thing while everyone was inside having dinner or something."

"Oh, man, I hate this. What do they want with us anyway?"

"Man, I don't know. They hate everything about us. Maybe they don't even need a reason. They're just so full of hate that they don't even need an excuse. I think I'll call that guy from the newspaper tomorrow and tell him what they did. Once he prints a story about it, at least everyone will be on the alert and maybe those bastards will have less of a chance of getting away with anything else. Man, I still can't believe it. This is gunna kill Rick."

"Oh man, Isn't Rick coming home soon?"

"He's due home in a couple of days."

"Do you think you should wait to tell him when he comes home?"

"Why?"

"Well, if it were me, I'd leave school right away. I wouldn't wait."

"Hmm, maybe you're right. He's probably got exams and it might screw things up if he knows."

James' eyes began to swell as he faced the unavoidable sorrow awaiting Rick. He recognized the familiar pounding in his heart and he wondered how much more God wanted him and the people he loved to endure.

"Crap, I'd hate to be the person to tell him." Nelson said.

"Yeah, I know. I've got to go, man. I have to see how Liz is doing. It hit her pretty hard. I think I should be with her."

"Sure. You go, man. I'll tell mom all the stuff you told me and I'll watch Wolf like a hawk. Take it easy and, sorry, man. It stinks what happened."

James hung up the phone and went to comfort Liz who was sitting on the edge of her bed with her head buried in the palms of her hands. She looked up at James, "I called Charles. He's coming home. He's going to call Rick and tell him."

"Nelson said if still has finals or anything, maybe you should wait until he comes home?"

"No. I know he'll be upset, but he'd be really angry with us if he knew about it and didn't tell him right away."

"I guess you're right," James said. He knew Rick would be heartbroken at the news, but he'd want to know. Maybe by the time he got home, enough time would pass for him to get used to the idea. But James didn't feel too confident about that. At night, Sugar would sleep under the covers curled up next to him. She'd follow him around the house within inches of his long legs. No, there was no chance Rick would get used to her being gone by the time he got home. Not that quickly. Not anytime soon.

"I just can't believe this happened," Liz said wiping the tears from her eyes, "I loved that dog so much."

James leaned forward putting his hand over his stomach, trying desperately to conceal his weakness. Liz didn't notice as she reached for more tissues. He was ready to vomit, but he fought for control to be strong for Liz. He sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her, "I know. She was the best dog ever. I loved her so much, too."

"What did Detective Sanchez say?"

"He said it's probably those same guys that were at the memorial ceremony. Those atheist people. They spray painted our nativity outside. They did it to most families on our block he said, but he'll take care of it, Liz. I know he will. In fact, Nelson and I are going to the station tomorrow to help them make up a sketch."

"You know the guy?"

"No. I just know there was a strange guy around the area lately. Nelson saw him, too. He just didn't fit and he had a look about him. I think he might have been staking out the houses he wanted to target."

"Do you think maybe it was just some kid from another neighborhood?"

"Maybe, but I got a message on my computer that makes me think something else."

James told Liz about the messages that came through in his email.

"My Lord, James. Who would do a thing like that?"

"It was my brother's computer. I don't know. If anyone would know how to get to it, he would."

"But he's in prison, James. How could he even know where you live?"

"I'm sure he has ways. I don't know who might be visiting him at prison from the old gang. I don't know. But I don't know anyone else who would have access to it."

"You have to tell Detective Sanchez."

"I did. He knows, but he couldn't tell me how it could be done, either, but he'll find out. I could tell in his voice when I told him that something clicked, but that's when I hung up to call Nelson."

"You told him about Sugar?"

"Yeah, and I wanted to make sure Wolf was okay."

Liz's eyes widened, "Oh my God, is Wolf okay?"

James patted her shoulder, "Yeah, he's fine. It seems like our block is the only one that was hit, but he's keeping an eye out and he'll make sure Wolf doesn't eat anything from the street."

"Oh James, what if that's what killed Sugar. What if it was my fault?"

He looked Liz straight in her eyes, "Look. Even if whatever he ate is what killed her, there's no way you could have known. Dogs eat everything they see. It probably was something else anyway. Maybe she was sick all along and she just didn't show it. It might be just a freak coincidence that it happened the same time the vandals came. Let's wait and see what the vet says."

"But why Sugar? Why would they kill Sugar?"

"Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was just kids. They throw stuff out of their cars all the time."

"But the message on your computer, James. I don't think it was an accident."

James had to admit, "Me either, but we don't have much to go on yet. Maybe after Nelson and I help out with the sketch, they'll be able to find the guy we saw around town. I don't know. It might have a connection to those people at the ceremony, but somehow I think my brother was involved, too."

Unable to bear the thought that his family would somehow forever be in their lives, attempting to destroy anything good connected to him, James began to blame himself, "Liz, if my brother was somehow part of this...," James' tapped his temples with his fists, "I'm the problem. To get to me, they'll destroy anyone around me."

"Don't you think like that, James. Not ever. You are a blessing to this family and don't you ever forget it," Now it was Liz who was comforting James, "I'm sure Detective Sanchez will figure this out, but don't you ever think for one minute that any of this is your fault. I just won't have it."

Liz leaned over and rested her head on James' shoulder, "I'm tired, James. I'm so tired. I just want them to go away whoever it is."

"I'm going to call my dad. Maybe he might know something. Maybe if I describe the man I saw..."

"You'd call your dad?" Liz couldn't imagine that James would go so far as to call his dad, even under the circumstances.

"Yes. I vowed I was done with him, but if he knows anything, I believe he'll help us. I'll do whatever it takes to catch whoever killed Sugar. And I'm going to call that man Dan McKinley at the paper and ask him to run a story about it, too. At least folks in town will be on the alert."

"James, with all you've been through, you're still such a strong and wise boy. I'm so glad you're here with us." And then she whispered with exhaustion in her voice, "United we stand."

After a few minutes, Liz got up and went back into the kitchen leaving James behind in Rick's room. He noticed the photo taped to the side of shelf where Rick's printer used to be before it took it off to college. It was a photo Charles had taken with the three of them and Sugar when they had gone fishing on the banks of the pond. He and Rick sat hanging their feet over the bank with fishing polls in hand laughing hysterically while Sugar stood wagging her tail in the middle as she proudly displayed her fish trophy between her teeth which she had just snatched from the open cooler.

The memory behind the photo brought a smile to James' face. He recalled how the Fiore's welcomed him into their home with barely any transition from stranger to family. James buried his head in the palms of his hands and wept, "God, I know you've helped me out a lot. I know you and I have made kind of an agreement together and I'm trying my darndest to keep my part of the bargain. You've showered me with blessings and I'm so grateful. You made me see what I needed to do so that I can move forward in service. I really do want to give back. I want to be on your team from now on. I really do.

But if this is another one of your tests, I just don't understand. I forgave my dad. I let go of the anger. I've tried so hard; yet, just when I think things are moving along in the right direction, this has to happen. Why? Why do you test me and those I love so much?"

James thought about how Rick would take the news of Sugar's death, "God, this family has been through enough. I know. I know. You turned things around for them in a big way, but does that mean for every time things look up for us...well, I guess I'm wondering if you think we don't appreciate all you've done for us.

I mean, do you think I'm taking you for granted or something? I don't think I've done that. Have I?"

James found himself in a full-fledged argument with God, "Come on now. I think I've done a pretty good job of living the way You told me to. I mean, besides the stuff with dad, I've been helping my neighbors, doing as much good as I can. I've tried not to be all puffed up like You said. I haven't boasted or even told anyone, sometimes not even Nelson, when I helped out some people. I can't help it if some of those people told Liz that I shoveled their driveway or something for free. I'm sorry. I didn't want anyone to know.

What the heck am I doing wrong? What more do you want me to do? I've even laid my future out in your hands and now I'm wondering if You really want me to do what I told You I'd do. You've got to tell me, God, if Your plans have changed. I mean it. I'm really going to try to keep the promise I made, but if I read You wrong, you got to tell me. You got to help this family, God. They didn't deserve this and I worry that it might be my fault somehow. Just being alive; it seems good people around me get hurt. If You don't want me to take up the cross, God, You got to be clear and tell me. Maybe I read your plan for me wrong. I don't know. I'm pretty dense, God. You got to really make things clear to me, ya know?"

Considering that the answers weren't coming, at least at that given moment, James closed his prayer, "Anyway, I do love You. I know Your way of thinking is too big for my small brain to grasp so I'm gunna try to keep going the way I said I would. I'll wait to hear from You if it's not what You want, okay? Don't forget. Sometimes you got to really pound it in, God, to get through to me. I guess that's all. In Jesus' name, Amen."

Then, exhausted, James lay down on Rick's bed and closed his eyes. Hours later he groggily wandered back into his own room to his own bed. He heard more weeping coming from the living room after Charles came home and called his son. James hugged his pillow, staring up at the ceiling as the darkness took control and allowed him to sleep.

James and Nelson didn't stay after school the next day like they usually did for one reason or another. James did tell Mr. Lang what happened, though, and the teacher took the information to the principal who made an announcement to the student body asking them to remain vigilant and to guard their homes and call the police if they saw anything out of place in their neighborhoods.

After James made a call to the newspaper and went to see Detective Sanchez, James was about to email Rick to see how he was doing after learning about Sugar when the phone rang before he could dial out. It was the vet.

"James, I found out what killed your dog. I tell you what," he said, "this was no accident. Whoever fed this to your dog intended to kill him as quickly as possible. He had quite a cocktail inside."

"What the heck was it, doc?"

"Someone gave your dog a toxic treat made up of chocolate, marijuana and ethylene glycol. The chocolate alone wouldn't have killed him as long as he got to us in time. Even the marijuana would have slowed down the hyper effects of the chocolate."

"So what's that last thing you said?"

"Ethylene glycol, James. It's antifreeze. It has a sweet taste that dogs would like. It was the most deadly ingredient. Whoever did this, knew exactly what he was doing. I don't think I could have saved him even if you brought him in right away. There was just too much in him for such a small dog. The chocolate covered it up so the average person wouldn't think too much of it unless they knew the effects chocolate has on a dog. A lot of people don't know that."

"Man, Liz didn't know what he ate, but even if she had, I'm not sure she would have known how dangerous it was. Dogs eat everything. Everybody feeds their dogs all kinds of stuff."

"Well, a lot of people think that way. They think everything they can eat, their dogs can also eat, but that's not the case. There are lots of things humans eat that are lethal to dogs. That's why I recommend to people not to feed their dogs from the table. Just give them designated dog food or treats. I'm afraid your dog didn't have a very pleasant ending. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, Doc. Thanks for everything."

Thinking to himself that none of his friends would ever suspect how deadly something as seemingly innocent as chocolate could be, especially when used as a lure for far more lethal results, James said good-bye to the vet, "Thanks Doc. I'll look up online all the stuff that hurts dogs and pass it along to everyone I know who has a dog."

"Sorry, son." The vet said, "I wish I could it didn't turn out this way."

James couldn't shake the idea that Sugar must have suffered terribly. His anger grew inside as, once again, he blamed himself for exposing his friends to the likes of such evil. It didn't matter that the group who was behind the protests and law suits had a much more broad vision to disrupt religious expression within the whole town. He knew there was more to it than that. He was certain that there was a sinister core that had to somehow lead back to his own family.
CHAPTER 29

It couldn't have been more thrilling to James to welcome Rick back home. Sure, Rick's parents were happy to see him, but James was blissfully elated to have the first person who ever embraced him as a brother back in his life. After all, his real brother never once acknowledged him as family. Rather Slice ignored James, speaking to him only to demand things when their mom wasn't available to serve him. Even James' dad acknowledged him to the extent that, on rare occasions when he almost forgot that James was his alienated son whom he barely tolerated, Herman Varnas would offer James positive commentary on a movie or a meal that his mom had prepared.

Immediately noticing that an inch or two had been added to James' height, Rick realized that his young friend had finally outgrown him when he barely succeeded to lift him off the ground in a manly bear hug. "My God, boy, you've not only grown taller, but take a look at that hard body! It's only been a few months. What, do you work out every day?"

James laughed, "More like shoveling snow and yard work, man. I don't have time for any of that macho stuff."

"Hey, I hear you've been quite the nice guy in town. You're helping old ladies and tutoring the seniors!"

James shyly lowered his head, "I haven't done much. I Just gave a hand here and there."

"Oh, you're too humble my boy. I hear rumors that you might actually be up for sainthood over at Saint Mary's"

James elbowed his friend, "You haven't been doing so bad yourself, I hear. What about getting a 4.0 average and being the chairman of the Young Attorneys Club," He pounded his chest, "Big man on campus!"

"Yeah, I didn't know just how much I'd like law, but I've got to tell you, not only do I love it, but there's a lot of moolah in it, too. A few big time attorneys came to talk to us on campus and, man; it sounds like an awesome career."

"And of course, you'll have no problem getting into a big firm."

Rick chortled, "Of course! I have no doubt. Would you believe I already met a guy from Cromwell and Jacobs? It's just the biggest firm in the state?"

As mild as it was for a winter day, James shivered while he and Charles carried Rick's bags inside as Liz wrapped her arm around her son's waste walking him inside. They took off their coats and put the luggage in Rick's room and then they sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating Christmas cookies.

Liz tapped the back of Rick's hand, "Hey, no more cookies. Dinner will be ready soon. Oh my, I'm so glad you're home. I've missed you so much."

"Me too, mom, I've missed you too, Do we know any more about the guy who killed Sugar?"

James answered, "Well, I talked to my dad and he gave some names to Sanchez. He knew some of them. My dad thinks Slice might be involved, too. My dad said those atheist guys owed him a favor. He told me, way back when, that Slice had it in for me. Sanchez is checking at the prison to see if he can figure out how Slice could contact the outside, though. Ron thinks he'd have to have had some kind of help. He's got extra cops patrolling our neighborhood and the park, too. He's more worried about the tree lighting ceremony than about more vandalism before that."

"Speaking of your dad; how'd that go? I heard you had quite a time with it."

"Yeah, it was hard, but it's fine now. I don't go see him or anything, but I was pretty sure he'd have some info about the atheist group and I felt I had to use any means I could to help catch those creeps."

"Well, I don't think I could stand to deal with him, but I understand why you did it. You've got a lot of gumption."

"I just did what I had to do. No biggy."

Charles lay his hand on top of Rick's, "Son, we buried Sugar out by the rose bush. James said she belonged next to the bush we planted in memory of his mom. He said it's because that's where love is."

Rick smiled at James, "Thanks Bro."

"Maybe you can come with me later when I go to see mom's grave at the church. I have a plant. One of those poinsettias. A big red one to put on her grave."

"Sure. I'd like that."

"James is doing amazing in school," Liz said, "He's been tutoring the older kids and he barely needs to attend classes himself, he's so smart. He's been working a lot with Mr. Lang. Mr. Lang has been so great to him. He's been like a mentor, encouraging him to take all those tests and contacting all sorts of people. He wanted James to go to college right away, but James insisted on staying at Tremont until he graduates."

"Well, not exactly," James chimed in, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"Oh?" Charles said, "You don't want to stay at Tremont?"

"Kind of. I mean, I want to stay to the end of this year, but I've been talking to Mr. Lang about some things."

Charles stiffened and looked across the table to Liz, "He talks to Mr. Lang? Not to us?"

Liz's awareness of how her husband wanted so desperately to be the one James' looked up to caused her to caution her husband, "Give him a chance, dear. There are some things Mr. Lang knows more about than we do. Let him finish."

"So what have you and Mr. Lang been discussing?" Charles asked with a hurt expression.

"Yeah, what's going on, Bro." Rick questioned.

"Well, you all know that I did really well on those tests he had me take."

"You did amazing," Liz said.

"Thanks. And you know how I joined the church and all, right?"

"Yes, and we're so proud of you, dear," Liz continued staring intensely at James to catch every word.

"Uh, it's more than that. I've been reading a lot about the things in the Bible. I mean, I've really researched all the stuff it teaches us and I read a ton of books Father Joseph gave to me and, well, I've kind of changed how I feel about God."

Liz suddenly appeared apprehensive, "You mean, you don't believe in God anymore?"

"Oh, no," James tried to clarify, "I've learned things and studied things about Christ that have actually made me feel really close to Him. I mean, I can't get enough of learning about Him and, well, with everything that's happened and with Him really putting things right with me...Oh man, this is so...,"James found it hard to say what was in his heart.

"Spit it out, James," Rick teased, somehow anticipating what his brother in spirit was about to say "You can do it."

"Okay. Okay." James spilled out the words at lightning speed, " I've decided to go to Baptist Bible College in Clarks Summit, Pa. I can get my BA there and then go straight to Seminary."

"Seminary!" a shocked Charles proclaimed, "You want to be a minister?"

"Yes, Sir, I do. Mr. Lang has arranged for me to take the tests I need to take to skip my last year at Tremont. I can take classes on line so it'll be cheaper, but Mr. Lang thinks I can get a grant to pay for at least most everything anyway."

Liz was torn between amazement and relief when James declared that he'd be staying home, but she didn't want to appear selfish, "Why James, I think that's wonderful, but with the grant, don't you think you'd like to have the experience of being on campus?"

Rick interrupted, "Way to go, James. I had a feeling from the tone of some of your emails that you were thinking along these lines, but I'll be honest, I just couldn't be sure because it was so far out from your original plans. What made you decide?"

"Funny, but Joseph really helped a lot. He talked me through a lot of the things that were eating away at me about my family. He gave me books to read and he talked to me about forgiveness. That had a really big effect on me; learning about forgiveness; and after I went to see my dad and I forgave him, well, I guess that was the beginning of my journey."

Then, James focused on Liz, "I'd like to stay here at least during my first year or two, if that's okay."

"My Lord, James," she said, "Of course, it's more than alright." She got up from her chair and stood behind James, hugging him tightly, "I'm so glad you want to stay here. I don't know what I'll do when you ever leave."

James continued, "Mr. Lang can come over to explain how it'll all work if you want. He's been great. He's got all these big connections with people and he's worked out just about everything. I made him promise not to say anything until I was absolutely sure it was what I wanted and I told him I wanted to tell you all together with Rick home."

Rick bumped fists with James across the table, "You're alright, kid. I guess I'll have to be on my best behavior from now on," He teased.

"Get out 'a here, you bonehead," James responded with equal bantering, "I'm still a tough guy," he laughed, "I'll be the first pastor wearing a motorcycle jacket instead of a robe at the pulpit."

Liz reached for the pot to pour fresh coffee in their cups, "Well, I'm so proud of you James. It's certainly not the direction I expected. I was so sure you wanted to teach math in one of those Mathnasium places and have your own franchise. Now look at you, we're going to have a minister in the family," Then she turned to Charles to playfully chastise him, "Now there's no getting out of it. You'll have to join the church now."

James asked Rick, "Does Maggie know you're back?"

"She does. I called her before I left and we're seeing each other tomorrow night. She said I'll be surprised when I see her. Don't know what she meant by that, but we'll see. Maybe she got engaged or something."

James wouldn't let up with his joshing, "If she did, it's your fault. You didn't know a good thing when you had it."

More seriously, Rick confessed, "I missed her a lot. I didn't think I'd miss her that much, but I did."

"Aww, don't worry Bro," James added, "Nelson would have told me if she had a boyfriend. He didn't say anything about that."

"I don't think Maggie would have told Nelson something like that. There are just some things a girl doesn't tell her kid brother."

But James continued to support his dear friend, "She's emailed me, too, and I'd be able to tell if something were up. She told me about all the clubs she belongs to and her classes and stuff. She never even hinted that she had a boyfriend."

Rick tried to appear as though it didn't matter, "Well, I guess I'll know tomorrow. Anyway, whatever she does, I'll just be happy for her. She's a good kid."

But Liz knew her son and he had all the signs of a forlorn heart, "Well, Susan and I spend a lot of time together, and Susan never said a word about Maggie having a boyfriend, but I might know what she's talking about."

"What?" Rick probed.

"I'm not going to say, but it's nothing big. Just something I think you'll see when you pick her up."

"Aww, come on. You're not going to tell me?"

"Uh, uh," she nodded, "You'll see. I'm not going to spoil it for her."

Rick got up from the table and kissed his mom on her forehead, "I love you mom. I'm going to take a shower. I feel like a scumbag. Do I have time before dinner?"

"Sure, sweetheart, I'll call upstairs when dinner is ready," Liz said as she blew him a kiss.

Later, while Rick was unpacking in his room, James stopped by, "So, what do you think?"

"About you becoming a minister?"

"Yeah, of course, what do you think?"

"I think it's awesome. With your brains and your disposition, you'll be able to relate to people really well. You have a gift for seeing inside of people," Rick hesitated, "although you don't like people seeing inside of you too much."

James couldn't deny Rick's observation, "Yeah, I know, but I'm doing better."

"Not that I blame you coming from the family you came from. It must have been something else to face your dad."

"Yeah, it was hard, but you know; I felt better after I left him. Sanchez said that some of the names he gave helped him to figure out who was involved in the vandalism and, uh, who might have given that chocolate to Sugar."

"Yeah, you said that. And was it part of the same group who hit us last Christmas?"

"Afraid so. They have connections to the atheist group my dad knew, but they can't prove that it was them who did it."

"Well, if I see any of them, I'll kill them myself."

"Don't say that Rick. I felt that way half my life. Revenge only makes everything worse. It's not worth it. It just eats you up inside."

"Maybe, but if I see anyone that I know is part of that group, they'll regret the day they came into this town."

"There's been stories about them in the papers, thanks to Dan McKinley, and now everyone in town knows about them and everyone is watching out for them. It'll be a lot harder for them to do their dirty work with a whole town on guard."

"Have you seen any of them since?"

"No. I haven't seen the one guy, but after Nelson and I gave a description to the cops, they came up with a name they think it is. He's not high up in the ranks. He's more of an advance guy who comes in to see what kind of place it is and all so that he can go back and alert them to what they think they can get away with. I guess since most of the Laisve are locked up, we all became kind of passive around here. I wonder who they got to do their dirty work this time."

"If they were here once, they'll be back. I can't think of anyone else who would do that kind of vandalism. Anyway, they were probably the ones responsible for Sugar."

"Could be. Not sure, but I'm pretty sure somehow, some way, Slice was involved."

James relayed the story about the messages he found on his computer to Rick.

"Whoa, that's creepy. How could he get to you from jail?"

"I don't know, but it is his old computer. Sanchez said he was going to the prison to talk to him."

"Man, that's crazy. What... do they give access to computers to convicts these days?"

"Not normally, but I know Slice. If ever someone could figure out a way to get what he wants, it's him."

"Man, if he was behind it, he won't be safe behind some stupid prison walls. I'll find some way to make sure he's not one of those guys who thinks prison is some cozy place where they can't be touched. There's got to be a way he gets punished, even if he is already inside."

"I'm so sorry, Rick. My family keeps on attacking yours. I don't know how you don't hate me sometimes."

"Hey, Bro. I don't think of you as even part of that family, except for your mom of course. You were never anything like them. You just got stuck in a crappy situation. We can't choose our relatives. You just happened to get the bottom of the barrel in your dad and brother. Don't sweat it. You're my brother, Bro."

James lowered his head, "Thanks Rick. I mean it. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"Aww," he said in his best gangster tone, "forgedda bout it," and he fist bumped his younger friend.

"So, I'm pretty sure those guys will show up at the tree lighting." James continued, "Sanchez said he'd have a lot of cops around, even some undercover."

"Do you think there'll be trouble?"

"Don't know, but I wouldn't put it past them after the noise they made at the memorial ceremony."

"I heard about that, but it didn't get out of hand did it?"

"Close, but no. They said they'd be back, though. They kept chanting something like 'down with the cross. I don't remember exactly, but they were creeps."

"You sure have a different attitude. If this happened months ago, you'd be out there ready to rumble."

"I know and I still feel that way, but I've learned a lot and I guess the things I learned made sense to me. Feeling all that rage, at least allowing it to fire me up so much, only makes things worse. It doesn't accomplish much of anything except to bring out the beast in me," James thought for a moment, "You know what I mean? It's like I become like them and that's the last thing I want. Besides, they're not beyond the reach of the law. The best way to handle them is through the courts. Beating them up only puts us in jail right next to them. That'd make them real happy."

"Man, you're like a whole different person!"

"So, do you I'm a wimp?"

Rick put his arm around his friend's shoulder and squeezed, "You, a wimp? Never. I guess you've grown up. As a future ultra-famous attorney, I hereby observe that you're more level headed now and, honestly, it takes a strong guy to put reason ahead of revenge. That's a good thing," Rick teased his friend, "I kind of liked the tough kid I first met. There was a real honesty about you, even if you were like a stick of dynamite ready to explode, but this guy is a whole lot smarter. I might just have to come to YOU for confession," Rick laughed.

"Hey, I'm not going to be a priest," James returned the laugh, "Just because I learned a lot from a priest doesn't mean I want to be one. Besides, I like girls too much! So, where you taking Maggie tomorrow?"

"I thought we'd go out to dinner somewhere quiet where we can talk."

"Hey, I took Nelson out to dinner for his birthday."

"I heard. Ain't no way I'm taking Maggie there. Are you kidding me? I said somewhere quiet."

It was good to have Rick home again, James thought. He had wished Rick was there when he was struggling with the idea of going to seminary. There was a trust between them; and James understood that no matter how off the wall his decision, Rick would have given him all the encouragement he needed and then-some. But it didn't matter. The decision was made and Rick didn't let him down. It was clear that whatever James decided to do with his life, his comrade in brotherhood would always support him.

Part of James wished he could go along with Rick and Maggie on their date. The four of them, Nelson included, used to do so many things together just months before school started, but times had changed. He was different and so was Rick. In a relatively short period, they both had evolved along that great highway to maturity. Although Rick wouldn't admit it out right, James knew Rick had strong feelings for Maggie. At least, he had some regrets about categorizing their relationship in such a platonic way just before he left for college. Apparently, he thought about Maggie a lot more than he planned while he was away and he hoped to bring some clarity to his emotions through their reunion.

James had other things on his mind anyhow. He was relieved that Rick took the loss of Sugar as well as he did. Maybe his being on campus when he got the news, accepting the separation from Sugar for the months before, gave him just enough time for her death to have less of an impact. Still, James thought it a little strange that Rick didn't seem angrier about it.

Rick hadn't been there when Sugar lay motionless after ingesting the food that was poison to her small frame. After all, he just got home. Maybe it would sink in after a few days without his playful companion snuggling up to him in bed, but James hoped not. It wouldn't do any good to allow anger to control him. It wouldn't bring Sugar back. Perhaps, James thought, once Rick saw Maggie's face again; a fire of a different sort would keep him focused on better things.

By the next night, Rick's heart was pounding when he knocked on Maggie's door. He took several steps back when she opened it and he saw her new look. With barely a glance, he noticed Wolf in the background, but he was so overwhelmed with Maggie's new appearance, it left no room for any other distraction. Her long hair had been cut, leaving tight curls to surround her face, making her already beautiful eyes seem larger than ever.

"Wow! You, uh, You look great!"

"Really? Do you like it?"

"Is this the big surprise?"

"Yes," she said shyly, "I wasn't sure you'd like it. Do you really like it?"

Well, Rick was so relieved that her surprise wasn't an engagement ring from some other guy, he could barely speak, "Uh, Maggie. I mean, wow, you look like an angel. You're beautiful!"

"Oh, I'm so glad you like it. I can't wait to hear all about school."

"Me too. We didn't Skype as much as I thought we would. I'd try to get in touch with you, but you were never around."

"I know," Maggie slipped into the passenger seat while Rick held the door, "I got so darn busy. It seemed every day someone else was inviting me to join one club or another. Before I knew it, I barely had any time at all between classes and the groups I joined."

"It's a different world out there, isn't it?"

"Yes, I knew it would be different than high school, but I had no idea my life would change so much."

"Seems like 'change' is the word of the day. Boy, James has certainly changed. Did you hear what he wants to do with his life?"

"He wants to teach math, doesn't he?"

"Not anymore. He wants to be a preacher."

"No way!"

"Yep, he's found Jesus and he wants to move right into college, skipping his senior year at Tremont. You must have had something to do with that," Rick teased, "You gave him his first Bible and got him to go to church."

Maggie's lips formed a proud smile, "Well now, I guess being a Christian isn't such a bad thing after all, but it wasn't me who did anything. It was the message. I guess when he read God's word, James got it. Not everybody does. That's where the miracle is."

"Hey, you got me to go to church, too, remember?"

"Yes, but were you convinced to follow the Word like James was, that's the question."

Rick smiled, "No. I certainly don't want to be a preacher, but you..." He reached across to the passenger seat to touch Maggie's shoulder, "you definitely influenced me in accepting Christianity as something not to shrink away from. I always believed, but you showed me how important it is. You showed me how it's not something just for Sundays. You know, people are never supposed to talk about religion or politics," Rick wiggled his hands over the steering wheel, "It's taboo, but you taught me that religion is too important not to discuss openly and freely. To tell the truth, that part of you is what I've found the most attractive."

"I never could understand why kids at school would try to change the subject; or even just walk away, when the subject of Jesus came up. I was lucky that our cheerleading group was different. We were all Christians and we talked about faith all the time."

Rick glanced over at Maggie before turning his eyes back to the road, "I have to be honest. At first, I was a little taken back myself, but then I realized that talking about God was as much a part of you as breathing and I found you to be fascinating."

"Fascinating? That sounds like you thought I was some kind of science project," Maggie affectionately mocked.

"I mean fascinating in an enticing and wonderful way. I found you to be both beautiful and very smart."

Maggie bowed her head in embarrassing acceptance, "Well, that's good. So, James still has another year to go. He might change his mind. I mean, that's a big step, don't you think?"

"Well, Mr. Lang's given him a lot of tests that I guess show he's so smart he can skip his senior year. Imagine that."

"That's awesome. I thought he changed even before we went away to school. It was like he was always in deep thought. Like he was always studying everything around him. My gosh, he read just about every book Father Joseph gave to him and he already was quoting scripture from the Bible I gave to him. Who would have guessed, though?"

"I know. Anyhow, he still might change his mind. He might be ultra smart, but he's still a kid. I'm not sure he could understand what it means to go into something like that at his age."

"Well, even if he changes his mind, he'll grow a lot more at college and being in those surroundings he might see a lot of other opportunities that he doesn't even know exist today."

Rick appeared to be drifting away in thought which reminded Maggie of what happened to Sugar, "Oh my gosh, Rick, I almost forgot. I'm so, so sorry about what happened to Sugar. It must be horrible for you."

For a moment, Rick saw Wolf standing behind Maggie as she answered the door, "It didn't really hit me until I saw Wolf when I picked you up. At first I went ballistic, but I figured I didn't want to face mom and dad while I was all worked up in frenzy when I got home so I dealt with it and then just put it behind me. Seeing Wolf, though, I really miss her. I can't believe it happened. I'm going to go see Ron Sanchez tomorrow and see what he's learned. James said they haven't been able to arrest anyone because they can't prove who was involved."

"Nelson said that James actually called his dad to see if he might know something. That really shocked me. I didn't think James would ever contact him again."

"I know. He's changed so much. I mean, I still see that kind of fire in him, like real anger; but man, he's really different."

"Yeah, I heard that, too and that kind of worries me. I know he's found God and all, but it's such a drastic change."

Rick paused as though he was trying to analyze the change in James, " I'm not sure how normal it is for him to be so calm after all that's gone on. If any of that anger is buried underneath all the love and peace he's found, it could explode at any time if something happens, you know?"

"Do you think he's just talking about becoming a minister because it's the only way he thinks he can control himself? I mean his anger and all?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't talked to him enough, yet, to see. He seems sincere. Heck, he seems as determined as he ever was, but only this time, he's determined in about the opposite direction as he was before. I just don't know."

"Nelson said he's even seen James change. Heck, Nelson's changed, too. Of course, he doesn't want to be a minister or anything," Maggie paused, "Thank God. I can't even picture that, but you should see how confident he's become. He's much stronger than he was before. He used to be so worried all the time that people were out to get him. I think being around James has a lot to do with it. James has been a great influence on him. He helped Nelson win that contest at the beginning of the school year. Nelson won a two thousand dollar scholarship."

"I heard. Does Nelson think James is strange or anything?"

"No. He worships James. I mean, he doesn't really worship him, but he looks up to him so much. I think maybe he took to him so hard because he's the best male figure Nelson's had since our dad left. He said the change he's seen has been kind of gradual, but he doesn't see it as being weak or anything. He talks about how strong, I mean, emotionally strong James is. It takes real courage for James to face life the way he has and I guess his belief in God has given him the strength to look at all those terrible things in a more, I mean, like they were lessons he had to learn. Like a right to passage or something."

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, I still want to talk to Ron Sanchez and find out what he knows. If it was those same guys, man, I don't think James will just sit back and take it no matter how much he's found Jesus. Ah, we're here. I hope you like it."

"Wow, I've always wanted to come here. I know I'll love it"

Once Rick and Maggie sat down at the restaurant with the dim lighting and romantic music playing softly in the background, Rick concentrated on the girl who sat before him, "So, tell me about all the friends you made at college. No special male friends?"

"Special?" Maggie smiled, "Do you mean did I go out on any dates?"

"Come on, Yeah, you know what I mean. Did anybody come on to you? I'll bet you were one of the most popular ladies on campus."

"Most of us were so busy getting used to all the classes and stuff, and being away from home, that I don't even have any friends who dated. We all hung out together at the Snack Shack sometimes, but that's about it."

"The Snack Shack?" Rick smirked, "You've got to be kidding."

"Yes, it's a cool place where the kids hang out. They serve hamburgers, fries and ice cream. You know what I mean. Just a hangout place we'd go to sometimes after classes or when we'd have a long break in between."

"So, no one made any passes at you? I mean look at you, you're beautiful."

Maggie teased, "And no girl threw herself at you? Like Amanda from the pool, for instance."

"Nah, I barely talked to anybody. Amanda found her own friends. In fact, she's got her own boyfriend now. We had lunch a few times at first, but that's it. I found that I was quite the loner. I'm not sure why, but other than the Young Lawyers of the Future Club I joined, I almost never hung out with anyone."

"You're too studious. You want to become an attorney so badly that you don't even make time for anyone else. You'll regret that someday."

"I didn't find college as easy as I thought it would be. I had to study hard. Some of it came easy, but when it came to some of the contracts and stuff. Man, that can get complicated."

"Have you decided what kind of lawyer you want to be?"

"No, I'm still not sure. The greedy side of me wants to be a corporate attorney, but then I think of the crime in some of our neighborhoods, I'd like to work for a DA's office someday, I think."

"Awesome. You'd be great at that. You're both tough and you're a fair minded man."

"Huh, you think I'm all that? I'm a pile of mush. I probably would find excuses for every criminal out there. Oh, they had such terrible parents or they were poor or...."

"Stop. You aren't a person to make excuses for anybody. You're too smart for that. Look at James and the home he came from. We make our own choices. Maybe there isn't enough help for some communities out there and we do need to step up and provide more opportunities for our youth, but there's always a personal choice, Rick. Everybody who has a computer, watches TV or reads a book knows what is right and what is wrong. They know they have choices. It's one thing to provide more education and awareness out there for kids in tough situations, but it's another thing to excuse every stupid crime because of social inequality."

"Wow! Way to go, girl. See, this is why you're so special. No pulling punches with you. And of course, you're right. I suppose I can do both. I can become a prosecutor and a mentor at the same time. It'll be up to me to make sure I contribute to the community I serve."

Maggie softened her tone, "Well, whatever the case, when you go back to school you'll make a lot more friends and you'll start socializing more."

"Maybe, but now that I've seen you again," Rick reached out across the table to Maggie, "I can't imagine..."

"Oh, you're silly," Maggie said, "I know you. You might be all about studying for now, but you're too out-going to stay out of the social circles. You'll probably have a girlfriend before you come back home in the spring."

Rick withdrew his hands with a tender smile, "Maybe, but I doubt it. I hope we find more time to keep in touch with each other, Maggie. I mean it. I really missed you."

"I missed you a lot, too," she confessed "but we still have a long way to go. We just started and we don't know what lies ahead for either of us."

"Would it be alright if I flew out to your campus some weekend when we go back?"

"I'd love that," Maggie said, "but I don't think you will. You'll get back and get all engrossed in your studies again and forget all about me."

"No way. I didn't forget about you this time and I won't when I go back. Seriously, Maggie, I do want to come see you. I don't want to take what we have for granted. It's something special and I don't want it to fade. I want it to grow."

Maggie looked at Rick with renewed intensity, "You mean you don't view us as a platonic relationship anymore?"

"I think of us as something much more than friends. I was stupid to tell you that back then. If we are meant to grow into something really special, we can't allow the distance between us to get in the way. I want us to give it a try. To make the time to keep in touch more and to see each other whenever we can."

Rick was comforted by Maggie's reply, "Me too. I want us to try and see each other if we can and I promise to make more time for Skype. It will be good for us to see each other's faces."

"I'm so glad you feel that way, too, Maggie. I don't know what I would have done if you had shut me out."

For a while, Rick forgot about the loss of Sugar. All he could do was relish the sweet scent of Maggie's hair and the sparkle in her eyes. It wasn't until after he had dropped off Maggie and he turned the knob of the door to his house that Rick realized there was no Sugar to greet him on the other side with her tail wagging to the point of making her whole body waddle in elated fashion. The house was quiet save his dad who was sitting watching TV in the living room.

"They talked about those guys." Charles said to his son.

"What did they say?"

"Only that it happened and that they had some leads. They mentioned Sugar. She was the only pet they got. Not that it's any consolation, but at least no one else had to go through what we went through."

"Why us? Why do they keep attacking us?"

"Well, it wasn't that gang. Most of them are in jail now. I'm not sure. It seems to be a whole different group."

"It's not a different group, dad. These guys were just in the background when Varnas hit our old house. They didn't go to jail because the cops couldn't prove the connection. The Laisves just did all the dirty work."

"They said that Atheist group filed a law suit against the town demanding that the cross be taken down."

"You're kidding!"

"No, and they're not the only ones in the lawsuit. Some group called the Eastern Socialist Labor Party or something filed a suit, too."

"Does James know?"

"No. I just saw it on the news before you came in. He'll find out soon enough. He keeps up on everything with those guys. He might have changed in a lot of ways. He's grown up a lot and he normally isn't nearly as withdrawn or angry as he used to be, but he's still right on top of those guys activities. He's got eyes like a hawk and he knows if anyone is out of place around here."

"When is the tree lighting?"

"It's in two days. The kids are out of school and I sure hope that no one runs into one of those guys."

"Have you seen them?"

"No, but James has. I mean, he's seen a few people around that don't seem right. He used to take Sugar and Wolf to the park with Nelson all the time, but now that its winter, they haven't gone there much so I don't know if he's seen any more strangers around there."

"I see you got him a car."

"Well, I thought he needed something to get around in. He's been through so much I didn't think he needed having one of us drive him around all the time. He's a man now. Anyway, he's proven himself to us. We couldn't ask for a better kid. He helps around the house. He's done lots of chores for the neighbors, sometimes for free. He's been involved in helping students at school. He's like a regular hero to a lot of people. Especially Nelson. Nelson worships the guy. Wait til you see him. He not only shot up almost overnight, but he's grown up a lot, too. He's not nearly as weird as he used to be."

Rick smiled, "Aww, he's always been a good kid. Maggie was saying the same thing. She said he's become a young man. He just got picked on a lot."

"Oh, by the way; I almost forgot. There's a letter for you from that kid Adam. He stopped by one day with his new Big Brother and asked us to give it to you when you got home." Charles retrieved the letter from his desk and handed it to Rick who opened it immediately."

"It's a thank you letter. He said he's proud of me for going to college and he loves his new Big Brother."

"That's nice. You did a good job with him. You should be very proud."

"I'm proud of him. I just hung out with him and kind of set an example for him a little."

"You set a very good example, son. Your mom and I think you've done real well. Before you know it, you'll be a rich lawyer in New York City."

"Never. I'll practice here before I'd practice in the city."

"So what's wrong with practicing here?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I love it here. I'm not sure there would be much opportunity here, but if I can, I'll stay as close to Tremont as I can."

"Well, you've got a few years before you have to decide."

"Quite a few. I've got a lot of college to get through first. I'm tired, Dad. I think I'll go to bed."

"Good-night, son. I'm glad you're home. I guess Mrs. Fiore will be missing me soon, too, so I'll be right behind you. Love you, son."

"Love you, too, dad."

It wasn't easy for Rick to fall asleep. He was all wound up inside at the thought of what happened to Sugar. He tried to imagine what might happen when he found himself face to face with the people who brought so much pain to their community, but the torch in his belly was soothed by the visual of Maggie's amazing smile. Whatever the vacation would bring, Rick knew that his two week break from school would be far from the average homecoming.
CHAPTER 30

It was the day before the Christmas tree lighting ceremony. James had just come from breaking his vow to never see his dad again by, instead, joining Father Joseph for one of his regular trips to bring his dad a gift wrapped box full of uplifting books about faith and family.

The unanticipated visit was overwhelming to James' dad. He wept and clutched his son's hands while chains constrained his wrists, "My God," he said, "If ever I doubted, I don't anymore. He brought you to me," and Herman lifted his eyes to the ceiling, "Thank you!"

The encounter didn't last too long, but its effects were profound. Not only did it offer a deep assurance to James' dad that God's Grace is boundless, it awakened a confidence in James that he had made the choice about his future.

There was little conversation between Father Joseph and James on the way home. James sat quietly with a contented smile while Father Joseph hummed lively Christmas Carols, tapping the steering wheel satisfied that his work was done. As he dropped James off, Father Joseph called to him before he opened the door, "God works in wondrous ways, my boy. I'll see you at the tree lighting."

Once inside, James hugged Liz while she dropped sugar cookie dough on to trays before he headed to his room to freshen up before supper, "I've got to go out right after dinner," he said to her, "I promised old man Jordan that I'd shovel a path for him to get to his bird feeders out the back door."

"That poor man," Liz said, "He can barely walk, but he refuses to give up that house and move to assisted living. My gosh, the assisted living place is only a few blocks from where he lives. It's not like he'd have to leave the neighborhood or anything."

"I know. I know, but he does okay. Meals on Wheels comes by and his daughter visits him every week. He wears one of those alert things, too, and so I guess he'll be okay. He needs those familiar surroundings, I guess. I can understand that."

"James, you have such a good heart," Liz said putting the palms of her hands on his cheeks, "Now go clean up. Tell Rick dinner will be ready by five-thirty," she returned to her cookies, "I guess Charles will be working late again, but at least he'll have the day off tomorrow for the tree lighting. The McGregor's are coming with us. Won't that be nice?"

Listening to Liz on the way to his room, James called back to her, "I know Rick will be happy for sure."

After James passed by Rick's room to deliver Liz's message, James sat on the edge of his bed and lowered his head in prayer. He asked God to bless his dad and to forgive him for his sins. He remembered the elation in his dad's eyes when he walked into the visitor's room with Father Joseph. No one could buy feelings like that. It was more than relief or satisfaction. It was something more profound; like a swelling of light in his soul. He thanked God, who he always called Father, for giving him the feelings he had no words to describe as tears trickled down his cheeks.

"James, telephone," Rick shouted out from the phone in the living room where he had gone to watch the news before dinner, "its Ron Sanchez. He wants to talk to you."

"I'll get it here," James called back as he said, "Amen," before picking up the extension in his room.

"James," the detective said, "It's about your brother."

"Slice?" immediately, James tensed up.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. We confirmed that it was him who sent you that message. We arrested a guard at the prison whose been helping him. I don't know what Phillip offered, but he used his outside connections to bribe the guard to get him use of the computer at the guard station. The guard confessed after he was caught right in front of the warden, who happens to be a friend of mine, slipping the computer into Phillip's cell. The thing is, we're not sure if Phillip had another contact outside the guard station; like someone from the office or something, but we think the guard was the only one.

Phillip is in isolation, now, and I doubt very much if you'll be hearing from him again. We suspect that he contacted one of the guys from the Americans for Religious Justice who owed him a favor and it was that guy who probably hired some local kids to stake out your house to see what your habits were. Once he knew that your dog was walked around the same time every day, he got the kids to drive by and toss out the candy. I don't think whoever actually did it even knew what they were doing. They simply got some kids to target your house and told them if they messed up the religious symbols in town, they'd get a bonus. We got the kids, but they weren't part of the atheist group. They were just some thugs who agreed to cooperate with your brother for a few bucks."

"So, you can't arrest anyone from the atheist group?"

"Yeah, we did get the one guy, but we couldn't arrest anyone else. The group probably was glad we arrested this guy because he stepped out of line with their plans. They can't function if they get caught in a bunch of illegal activities. That's why they try to enlist gangs, or just stupid kids in this case, to pull off anything that might get a lot of news coverage, except that we now have two incidents with connections to them and so their power might be dwindling once this arrest gets some media attention."

"I've got to tell you, detective, I don't have much faith that they'll stop causing trouble."

"Well, they have filed those law suits and even with this one guy we caught, he's denying that he was a member of their group. We're sure he was, but we can't prove it at this point. He just says he knew some of them, but that he wasn't a member and, of course, the head honcho over there swears the guy we arrested is just an acquaintance."

"So what's the plan?"

"James, we'll be out there in full force tomorrow for the tree lighting. It's my opinion that they'll be there marching and spewing out garbage from their mouths, but nothing more. You shouldn't hear from Phillip anymore. He'll be in isolation a long time and after the shake down we did at the prison, I don't think there will be another guard who's that stupid to help him. I just wanted to give you some closure on what happened to your dog. I'm sorry it had to be what it was, but better to know, right?"

"Yeah right, thanks Detective." but James wasn't feeling closure. He was feeling that everything bad that happened in his town was his fault. He wondered if he could look into the faces of his new family and be able to tell them that it was his brother who was responsible for killing their dog. He wondered if the bad blood in his veins made him unworthy of the path his heart longed to take. Once the media got a hold of the story, everyone in town would know that it was his family who brought the insecurity that the residents of Tremont were forced to endure. James imagined that he would be shunned and possibly even be asked to move somewhere else. Perhaps Mr. Lang could get him through the testing that would allow him take his classes on campus versus at home because James didn't could no longer recognize his own value. He felt hopeless and ashamed of his connection to such evil people.

James was mostly silent through dinner except to say , 'It's all my fault. If I hadn't come here, none of this would have happened."

All the elation from this visit with his dad was replaced with a sunken hope, once again bringing doubts to his choices. He wondered if there would ever be a time when good wouldn't be crushed by bad. He poked at his food and then claimed to feel a little nauseous. It was too hard to look at them knowing that all the horrible things that happened in their lives started with his family. He excused himself, telling his family that he needed to lie down for a while.

"I'm so sorry," Liz said having no idea what was really bothering James, "I hope you feel better, dear. Go lie down and I'll bring you some chicken soup later if you're up to it."

But Rick sensed that it wasn't James' belly that was upset, but rather James' spirit. After dinner, he went to see James in his room.

"Hey bro. What's up? You were fine a while ago."

"I'll be fine. I'm just feeling a little sick."

"What did Ron say?"

James sat up in his bed and reluctantly confessed, "It was Phillip. The dog, the vandalism; all of it."

"How could he do that?"

"They arrested a guard who was helping him use a computer. He contacted someone on the outside and he did it as pay back because he blames me for putting him in jail."

Rick was angry. He hated Slice and his dad for the years of abuse James had to endure. He could see that James was taking on a load he didn't deserve, "We should be surprised? Hey, kid, it doesn't surprise me at all that he was somehow involved. The guy's a screwed up scumbag. We all thought he had something to do with it, but it wasn't you. We accept that, but he's locked away and can't hurt anyone anymore. Not again. So why are you so upset?"

James looked Rick in his eyes, "Because it's my family. Everything that's happened to hurt you and your family is because of my family."

Rick sat down next to James, "Look. If you're going to be a preacher, my friend, you've got to stop blaming yourself for things you had no control over. Sharing their blood does not a family make. You've got to stop connecting their behavior to who you are, James. I don't blame you. My parents don't blame you and I don't think anyone in this town would ever blame you. You've just got to stop putting a load on yourself that you shouldn't have to carry. How can you help others if you are too beaten down to believe in yourself?"

"...but."

"No buts. You are an amazing person, James. Look how much good you've done for this town. Not only have you brought people together during some really crappy situations, but you've probably made more positive impact on people than just about any other kid in town. Who else would go around mowing lawns and shoveling driveways, half the time for no pay. Who else would take the time to do all the tutoring you've done, again, half the time for nothing? Just in the changes we've seen in you, you've inspired us in ways you can't imagine."

James humbly lifted his eyes to his friend, "Thanks Rick."

"... and furthermore, old buddy, I need you in my life and so do my parents. You are part of this family now and, quite frankly..." Rick confessed, "...we love you. Now, don't go getting all mushy on me, but I have to tell you, I can't imagine not having my new kid brother around so you'd better snap out of it and just accept that you are an amazing and good person. There are a lot of future church members who need you, too, got it?"

Finally a smile began to form on James' face, "Got it. You're pretty dog, too, Bro."

"Yeah right. So let's think about tomorrow. Maybe you can lead us in prayer or something."

James laughed and they talked for hours about Rick's college and James dreams for his future.
CHAPTER 31

Liz called out to the boys from the front door, "Rick, James, time to leave! The McGregors are here. Come on. We don't want to be late."

The small convoy; with James and Nelson in his car, Rick and Maggie in his truck and Susan McGregor, Liz and Charles Fiore leading the way as they pulled into the already filled parking lot just a block away from the park. Unfortunately, it wasn't just the towns' folk who came to observe the tree lighting. Along the sidewalks that surrounded the oval shaped park from across the street were tightly packed groups representing both the socialist and the atheist groups. It seemed like there were hundreds of black jackets with silver intertwining circles glimmering on their backs. Some of the others wore mustard colored jackets with a red symbol of clenched fists, the symbol of the socialist party.

A chilling winter breeze kept their chanting 'take down that cross' at a distance. Most of the ceremony attendees walked past the intruders facing straight ahead in a deliberate effort to ignore their presence. James overheard one young child say to her mother, "Mommy, they don't look too nice. I'm not sure they'll have a good time, but maybe when we start singing, they'll be happy."

James felt his chest tightening, but he fought the desire to get up in their faces and tell them to get lost.

"Keep calm everyone," James heard Charles say as he looked around at his family and friends, "They're not going to do anything. Just pretend they're not there."

A boy Nelson recognized from school shouted out to the protestors, "Shut the hell up," but his dad quickly silenced him and coaxed him toward the platform. Once the area filled up with the citizens of Tremont, they became more relaxed. The school band members took their places and a small children's choir sat in folding chairs in front of the crowd awaiting their turn to sing.

The Mayor Thompson was the first to speak. "Welcome everyone to the nineteenth annual tree lighting ceremony. Every year we've come together to celebrate the coming of the Christ Child and to open the door to the Christmas season. I'm proud to come here each year and to be a part of a town where traditional values still take precedence over what seems to be a world that wants to wipe away those values and to replace them with a secular society. This year, we're going to do things just a little differently. Before we begin, I'd like Pastor Agnes to lead us in prayer, after which she has a surprise announcement."

After they held each other's hands during the prayer, Pastor Agnes turned to a table behind her and picked up an envelope, "Brothers and Sisters," she said, "We're starting something new this year. It's so important that we remain a town that cares. That gives a helping hand to our neighbors and reaches out to those in need. We've come to know some astounding citizens over the years who have exemplified the very example Christ set for us. From now on, each year we will award one of our citizens an award.

We are of different faiths, but we are one family and so we're calling the award The Value Award because we are a community that values citizens who serve in our town without seeking any sort of recognition for his or her deeds; just because they are who they are. In the future, we will be giving this award to one of our citizens, but this year, we thought we'd start it out by recognizing two individuals. First, Miss Dorothy Tangelo, would you please come up to the podium?"

The old woman was totally surprised. She stood up from the folding chair next to the children and used her cane to assist her in getting up the stairs. Wide eyed and amazed, she approached Pastor Agnes with a wide grin, "Why, what on earth have I done to deserve such a thing?"

"Miss Dorothy, we honor you for your tireless service to this community. Why I can't remember a bake sale that you didn't bake for. It never mattered if it was our church, the girl scouts or the rotary club, whatever the cause, you were there. You've been the children's choir director as long as I've known you," Pastor Agnes paused with a smile, "and I don't think I should say just how long that's been; and although it's not easy for you to get around, instead of seeking assistance for yourself, you've been a regular at the nursing home taking time to read to the seniors every week. We'd like to present this gift certificate to you for a night out on the town which includes Tommy Shank; who has volunteered to be your all day chauffeur, a day at the spa followed by dinner at the Rock Hill Seafood House," she paused again, "because we know how much you love lobster!"

The continuous chanting in the distance was completely drowned out by the applause as Pastor Agnes continued, "and now for our second recipient. James Varnas, please come forward."

Well, James thought he heard it wrong. It couldn't be him. He didn't want to move because he was sure there had to be some mistake, but Nelson, Rick and Maggie took his arms and pulled him toward the platform, "Get up there, silly," Maggie said, "Go on. Everyone's waiting."

Pastor Agnes took both of James hands in hers. She glanced back over the audience, "Full disclosure," she said, "I have a special place in my heart for this young man." Then, she drew her eyes to James', "James, I can't think of a person who has experienced more pain and instead of using that pain as an excuse to avoid involvement with the people around you, something many of us in the same circumstances would do, you not only dove in face first into helping your community in so many ways, you overcame so many obstacles and rather than be filled with hate or revenge, you turned yourself around and took the Lord into your heart," she looked back at the audience, "Do you know this young man wants to give his life to God? He wants to become a minister of the word," bringing a cheerful roar to the audience.

Looking back at James, she continued, "Now, I know you tried to keep your good deeds quiet, but you've got to know that everybody knows everything around here. You can't hide your service from us," she laughed, "Why I've heard from so many folks around town how you've helped them, including Mr. Jacobs over there in the back. Hey, Mr. Jacobs, thanks for sharing with us."

Several more people spoke out from the crowd, "He mowed my lawn when I was laid up and refused to let me pay him" and "He carried my groceries all the way home one day" and a young boy spoke up and said, "He drove me home when my bike broke down. He even put my bike in his trunk and then fixed it when we got home and he didn't even charge my mom."

Dan McKinley told his photographer, "Get that picture of James and don't forget those people over there who are making all the comments in the audience. Make sure you get the protestors, too."

Another voice shouted out, "I hired him to tutor my son for an hour and he stayed much longer and came back when my son needed more help and he didn't charge us overtime."

Of course, James did get paid for many of the tasks he performed, but he never even kept track of the many times where he would take no pay at all. It never occurred to him that people would take notice, never mind remember and reward him.

"So, James," Pastor Agnes went on, "Although we're sad that you plan on skipping your last year at Tremont," she chuckled again, "cause you're so darn smart, we want you to know that we are so proud of you and we appreciate how much you've contributed to our community. We'll miss you when you go away to college, but the world needs you and we can't be selfish. To show our appreciation, James, we decided we'd give you a head start on your ministry." She handed James a big box, "Go ahead, open it,"

He hesitated, but he finally untied the bow and lifted the cover. He grinned from ear to ear as he held up a deep blue clergy stole with a golden cross embroidered on either end, "I'm not sure how this will look over my black leather jacket, but I love it, thank you" he laughed as he also pulled out from the box a white clergy collar, "I guess this could be worn under my jacket, too," and finally, beneath the apparel was an envelope. He opened it and Pastor Agnes said, "That'll just cover your books and some odds and ends. It's not much, but it should help."

James looked out over the audience at his friends, "I suppose you guys had something to do with this, huh?"

"We love you, James," a proud Charles shouted back and the applause grew.

In the distance, Detective Sanchez and his unit stood between the event and the protestors waving their hands in the air and whistling for James. James took his box down to where his family stood, shaking Father Joseph's hand along the way, and Mayor Thompson went to the podium to start the regular program, "It's time to sing some Christmas Carols. Let's get this band going. Come on up, kids" he said pointing to the children's choir."

For nearly another hour the crowd sang. The cross glistened with the reflection of colors from the holiday lights and when they finally lit the Christmas tree, all hands were raised with lighted candles as they sang Oh Come All Ye Faithful with bells ringing from the nearby church.

The towns' people filed peacefully out of the park, but the protestors and the police remained behind along with Dan McKinley and his crew, "Let's go talk to the protestors," Dan said and he approached one of the men who held a sign with a drawing of a cross with an X through it.

"What have you got against the cross? You don't even live around here. Why does it bother you?"

With a rehearsed tone, the man said, "It's the law. You can't have a cross on a public place. You'll have to take it down sooner or later."

"But why do you care? It doesn't affect you."

But again, the man simply stated, "You'll have to take it down sooner or later."

On the way back walking to the car, Maggie told Rick and Liz about another event planned for the next afternoon, "It's called Las Posadas," she said, "It means The Inn and it's the Hispanic celebration of the pilgrimage that Mary and Joseph lived while searching for lodging. Isn't it wonderful? Do you think we could come to see it tomorrow after church? I think it starts at two."

"I didn't know about that," Liz answered, "Sounds nice." And she told Charles.

But James and Nelson, who trailed behind the group, kept turning around to see if the protestors were leaving, "Look at them," James said to his friend, "They're still there. I wonder if we should stay and make sure they don't do anything to the cross."

"Nah, they won't," Nelson insisted, "The cops are there. They'll make sure no one messes with the cross."

Then, Maggie turned around to face the boys, "Hey Nelson, we've decided to come back tomorrow after church to watch the Hispanic celebration. They say it's really nice and you'll love the music. I think Father Joseph will be there, James. Rick will give you all the info later when he gets home."

"Sounds like a plan," James called ahead to her, but more concerned with what they left behind, he turned to see if the protestors had gone from the park. A few remained, but James could see that the police cars were leaving and so he assumed the protest was breaking up.

Later, when Rick got home, James learned that Las Posadas involved a procession from the Catholic Church to the park where the people would follow Mary and Joseph on a donkey through the street as they sang Spanish Carols and threw confetti on the couple. Dressed as shepherds, four men would also carry a manger set on a polled platform where it would ultimately be lowered to a place in front of the giant cross. Rick didn't know too much more about it because in years past the procession went from the church to the back part of their parking lot, but he had been told that with the creation of the memorial, the parish wanted to take advantage of the beautiful surroundings at the park. He was told it would be an awesome ceremony. Besides, Rick thought it might be a good idea if he and James were there to watch out for any left over protestors.

Still overcome with the honor of his unexpected gifts, James thought more about being humbled than about the festivities after services on Sunday, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the uneasiness of unpredictable events poured salt on the sweetness of his reward.
CHAPTER 32

While the adults met at the diner for lunch after church, James drove Maggie, Rick and Nelson back to the park for Las Posadas. There had been a wet snow the night before, but the sun was out and the streets had already been plowed in anticipation of the Hispanic celebration. At that point, there were no signs of the protestors leaving them with a feeling of relief. They waited on the sidewalk just yards from the steps of the church.

"Looks like there won't be any problems today," Rick said to his friends.

"I sure hope not," Nelson replied.

Maggie looked up and down the street, "I wonder if they even knew about this."

But James was more suspicious, "Those guys find out about everything. I don't trust them."

Maggie answered, "Let's just enjoy this. I don't see any of them anywhere and, look, there's a cop car. It'll probably follow along with the procession."

Gradually, the holiday music from the church grew louder as the doors opened and the procession started down the steps. The first to emerge was a group of young children dressed with angel wings strapped over their heavy coats followed by older children blowing on their trumpets. Behind them, Hallelujah, Hallelujah was loudly sung by parishioners who were each adorned with colorful garland around their necks. As the pageant took a motionless position on the street, from behind the church a woman draped in blue and white appeared riding a donkey that was led by a man wearing shades of brown and tan. They took their place at the rear of the march and were followed by more angels playing Maracas and Samba Drums. Several children walked behind with harnessed sheep and goats. Throughout the music, one could hear mellow yelps of hip, hip and aye, aye and sounds that could only be described as joyful. Once the processionals continued, they swayed and danced along the route.

Walking alongside the parade, Maggie found her emotions swelling up, "My Lord," she said, "This is so beautiful,"

"Man, this is really cool," Nelson added.

It was impossible for the four friends to follow ceremonial spectacle without their own bodies reacting to the rhythm. Of course, their moves were more along the lines of something more familiar to a high school dance, but just the same, they became fully enthralled with the festive spirit.

As cold as it was, it seemed no one really noticed. The afternoon sun brought a glare spewing out from the cross that almost made it appear to be on fire as they laid down the manger in front of it. The unused platform off to the side had been covered in a white tarp so that it wouldn't be noticed against the snow while large red and white poinsettias had been placed on the benches on either side of the crèche.

Once everyone was in place around the nativity, Father Joseph spoke a prayer in Spanish, followed by a ceremonial dance around it with the children holding sparklers high in the air. It was all so captivating that no one noticed the people gathering on the sidewalks surrounding the park. One patrol car remained in watch, but since the ominous group held no signs nor did they shout chants, the ceremonies continued without interruption.

Suddenly, at the end of the celebration, a flash of snowballs crashed into the crowd. Thinking it was a game, some of the older children began to throw them back toward the strangers wearing the black and mustard colored jackets. Soon snowballs were flying everywhere. The adults tried to get their children to stop, but as long as the white balls kept coming from the other side of the street, the teens relentlessly retaliated.

The officer got out of the patrol car and shouted at the strangers to stop, but any efforts to slow down the play seemed to only intensify their actions. Rick picked up one of the snow balls and noticed that it wasn't just made of wet snow. It had a big rock inside. He picked up another and it had a piece of thick icicle within its innocent wrap. He shouted out, "Hey, don't fight back. These aren't snowballs. They're weapons. Let's get out of here." But it was too late. Waves of white rockets crisscrossed through the air aimed at the cross smashing some of the plants on either side. When it was clear that the rock and ice filled snowballs had little effect on the structure, their efforts only intensified.

James had seen the patrolman make a call and he could hear sirens getting closer. Finally understanding that these were not playful diversions, the locals began to run back to the church while James and his friends stayed behind to stand up to the agitators.

James saw an old woman, seemingly clueless to the commotion; wander in front of the cross. He stepped in front her facing the white missiles while he protected the woman with his body. An oversized white projectile hit him directly between his eyes and he fell to the ground.

The screaming crowd hustled back and forth trying to avoid being struck. The old woman's family came running to her rescue and pulled her away from the persistent attack. Maggie was the first to identify James' body lying face up on the ground; his head touching the foot of the cross with sprays of crimson flowing around his eyes.

"Somebody help!" Maggie shouted as Father Joseph and the remaining church members gathered around. Rick and Nelson knelt down beside their friend, "He's still breathing," Rick said as he put his face close to James' nose and felt his chest."

"I called an ambulance," a breathless officer said as other policemen chased after the violators, "We thought those guys left town."

The officer took off his coat and laid it carefully under Rick's head, "Don't move him. He might have a concussion."

"Oh my God," Maggie cried out, "I can't believe it." She started to chase after them herself, but Rick held her back.

Nelson dropped down next to his friend, tears flowing down his cheeks as he clutched James' hand, "You're gunna be okay, Bro. You're the best friend I ever had. You've got to be okay!" but the patrolman gently pushed him away, "Stay back from him, son, given him some room. We'll take care of him. He'll be alright."

James was driven to the hospital where Maggie called her mom asking her to contact the Fiore's. There was nothing else they could do but wait. It seemed like forever before Father Joseph greeted them at the emergency room entrance along with the adult son of the old woman who James had protected, "The kids are in the waiting room upstairs. He's unconscious. Come with me. This is Mr. Gonzales. His mother came close to being hit as well. She's an old woman who can't hear very well and she isn't all that alert sometimes. She got in the way and I don't think she would have been able to withstand the rapid fire of those projectiles if James hadn't placed himself in between. He might have saved her life."

Before they reached the room, a doctor stopped them in the hallway, "Are you the boy's parents?"

"We're his guardians," Charles breathlessly replied, "Is he alright?"

The doctor put his hand on Charles' shoulder, "I think we should sit down before you go in the room." He guided them into the area where Maggie, Nelson and Rick were already waiting steps away from the nurses' station.

"We think the boy might have something going on between the optic track and the brain. I'm afraid even if he recovers, he could be blind in one or both eyes."

"What do you mean, 'if' he recovers?" Liz muttered, barely able to speak.

A gentle, but serious tone was infused in the doctor's words, "He might wake up for a few minutes, a week or not at all. We just don't know. We do know he's likely got a serious concussion and so he has to rest before we can even do more tests on him. He needs to be perfectly stable at least overnight."

"You can make him better, right?" Maggie insisted, ignoring the doctor's counsel, "I mean, you can operate on him and fix it, right?"

"Not necessarily," he said matter- of- factly, "We have to give him some time before we can run more tests to get a better idea of what's going on inside. He really can't be moved just yet. We'll have a better idea in the morning. What appears outwardly might be considerably different than what's going on inside. Sometimes people walk away from things like this just fine. Sometimes, they go on for days or weeks without a problem and some people never have any symptoms again, but they're always a risk that, well, we just can't guaranty that he'll be okay. I wish I could. I'm sorry. By tomorrow, we should have more information."

"Can we go in to see him?" Nelson asked.

"Sure, but he probably won't wake up." He was about to change his mind, but instead he confirmed, " Sure, you can go sit with him if you like, but please, try and see him just three or four at a time."

There was an air of festivity in the hospital with Christmas carols being piped through the corridors. Every now and then, someone would come to visit a family member or friend in one of the rooms carrying poinsettias or gifts for the patient.

It was nearly midnight when Maggie bowed her head in prayer next to James' bed while Rick and Nelson dozed off in their chairs close to the window. Liz, Susan and Charles stepped out for a bite to eat at the all night donut shop and Father Joseph eventually took Mr. Gonzalez home. Confused with the occasional commotion around the nurses' station, Maggie barely noticed the ruffling sound of movement coming from James' arm until she looked down and saw his hand touch hers.

She whispered, "Oh, my God!"

Slowly, the fingers intertwined with hers and his heavy lids pushed their way open, "Hey, girl." He lightly spoke, "You know I've always had a crush on you. You kind messed up my chances of dating any girls since I had such high expectations after knowing you."

With tears rushing down her face, Maggie smiled, "Here you are in a hospital bed, barely alive, and that's what you have to say?"

The motion awakened Rick and Nelson, "Hey, Nelson, he's awake!" Rick said more loudly than he intended.

"Shhh," Maggie said smiling through her tears, "People are sleeping."

The two boys joined Maggie on James' bed. His eyes were barely open, but there was an unexplainable brightness to them. Concerned that they'd overwhelm him, Rick asked James, "Is it okay that we're sitting here?"

James smiled, "You bet," and then he began to say things no one wanted to hear, "You guys, I'm not going to be here long."

"Stop!" Nelson said, "Don't say that."

But James continued, "It's okay, bro. Don't worry. It's all good."

"What do you mean, you won't be with us much longer, James?" Maggie asked thinking his words might be a result of his concussion, "Maybe you should be quiet and rest. Just lay you head back and go to sleep, James. You got hit pretty hard. You need to be still."

"Hey," he said directly to Maggie, "You're gunna be a great journalist. I know it. You're going to be famous for your writing. I want you to write about me, Maggie. Let people know that God is there for us even when we think it's all hopeless. You know what I mean? He has a plan for each of us. He even had a plan for me. Will you do that, Maggie? Will you write about me?"

"You're crazy," she said half smiling while she tried to control the flood of her tears, "I'll call for a nurse. Clearly, we should let you rest."

"I mean it, Maggie. Please. Promise me."

"Okay. Okay. I'll write about you, but you have to be around to tell me what to write."

"You'll know." James turned his weakened smile to Rick, "You're my brother, man. You stood by me. You made me feel for the first time like I had a real family. Tell your mom and dad that I love them so much." Then he reached for Nelson's hand, "Kid, you kept a fire going in me. I saw myself in you, you old wolf slayer. You've been such a loyal friend."

Maggie's weeping nearly took her breath away. She laid her head down on James' chest, refusing to accept the inevitable, "Stop talking like this. We should go and let you rest."

But James grinned back at her; a tear drop trickling down his cheek, "No, I have to say this. You guys have taught me so much. You brought Christ into my life. No one could ever give a better gift to someone than that. You taught me about faith, Maggie. Your family took me in, even with all the baggage I carried."

For a moment James appeared to be slipping away, but he forced his lids to lift another time. He made a fist with one hand as he weakly set it on Rick's knee, "Rick, do me a favor, man. Tell Joe to tell my dad it's okay. Tell him I know now. I know how God's forgiveness works."

James wheezed and struggled to hold on, but then he gave in. He exhaled as though he was suddenly freed from all the worldly weight that consumed him. With his last breath, James looked up to the ceiling to a face only he could see and he whispered, "I'll be right there," and he closed his eyes for the last time.

The three friends lay huddled over James' bed moaning in sorrow, unable to accept his passing until a passing doctor entered the room and took his vitals. "I'm sorry," he said, "he's gone." He draped the sheet over James' face and the friends left the room as they clung to each other, seeking out their parents to break the sobering news.

Days later, the funeral was held at the Colonial Baptist Church. Having met its capacity, the service overflowed into the vestibule into some of the Sunday school classrooms. People of many faiths came from surrounding towns to honor James, including Dan McKinley and some reporters from as far away as New York. One after another, friends and neighbors stood up with words of remembrance of how James touched their lives. No one could believe that after all James had endured, his life would be taken just when he was about to embark on such a significant journey.

Maggie was the last to speak. As she made her way to her place, she held on to the rails to steady her wobbling legs as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. With Rick's helping hand, she stood in front of the casket facing the pews. Her tears choked her words, but she took a deep breath and read from a sheet she held in front of her.

"I have only known James for less than a year. We didn't know who he was when he came to us last year and offered his help at the fundraiser for the very family his own father and brother tried to destroy, but he had a sense about him. Looking back, I remember the confidence and strength I saw in his eyes when he defended my brother against the harassing antics of a bunch of school bullies. Those same bullies, by the way, turned out to respect James just like the rest of us once they got to know him. He was unselfish and kind. He had an uncanny knack for reading people and knowing when they needed help or when they were up to no good.

I don't think I've ever known a brighter, more responsible boy his age before," Maggie smiled through her tears, "and I have to tell you, if it weren't for him, a lot of kids I know might have flunked in their math classes this year. James didn't want people to know how much he helped out people, but we sure learned a lot more about his good deeds when he won that well deserved Value Award. What an awesome guy.

On that final day, James asked me to write about him. I didn't understand why he asked me that, but I've given it a lot of thought and I think I understand now. He wanted people to understand that there aren't any obstacles that can stop God from fulfilling His plan. He wanted us to know that when God wants you to overcome," Maggie's words became more emphatic, "You will overcome. Although one thing after another kept pounding him down, James always got back up to become a better person than he was before.

So, I will write his story one day. I will be honored to share the things I learned both about him and from him so that the whole world will see what faith can do."

Her sobbing could no longer be contained, "I thought God had such big plans for you, James, but we are mere humans and we are not wise enough to understand the wonders of His works. Maybe it was His plan all along to take you so that we would share the tale of your amazing life. I'm pretty sure there must be angles up there in heaven with their wings spread wide ready to welcome you with their song. All I know is that I am a better person because of you and I miss you so very much.

Good-bye, dear friend. Your mom is waiting. I love you so much."

The organ played a solemn melody while a parade of weeping mourners filed out of the church to await the men who would carry James to his final resting place. Outside, cameras and reporters were waiting to document the somber procession to the Catholic Church where James would lie next to his mother.

As they lowered the casket into the ground, bells rang and heaven opened to shower his bed with a fresh falling snow. Red roses were tossed over him boldly contrasting against the white crystals where pedals blew in the wind to cover the ground.

Early the following week, just days before Christmas Eve, Dan McKinley wrote an editorial in the Record both to honor James and to offer a warning to the community against passive acceptance of the demands made by those responsible for the devastating turmoil that invaded Tremont. The commentary was picked up both by local TV and major broadcasting raising discussion among the pundits.

It read:

'Neighbors and friends, this incident in Tremont is a warning to all people of faith. Atheists have been chipping away at religious freedom by one law suit after another in the hopes of overwhelming the courts into submission. One of their most clever tactics is to attack our military where they have already succeeded in forcing the Air Force into removing God from their logo. They have filed cases against any government property where a cross stands; including Camp Pendleton in California and Arlington Cemetery. Now, now they have attacked our own memorial.

Last year they complained about the nativities on the lawns of private citizens. They claimed that it was offensive to drive through town and see all those vignettes displaying the Christ Child being forced upon them as they drove through our streets and their protests have often brought violence to our communities.

Like in Iran or Egypt, if we're not careful and we don't stand up for our faith, our churches will be driven underground. This anti-Christian sentiment has already brought dangerous hostility to our town more than once. We can no longer afford to brush it off as just a few extremists who occasionally become aggressive. In a culture where immorality is promoted by Hollywood and accepted by a celebrity struck society, we are left with a vulnerability to just this kind of dangerous thinking where rights are determined by whichever group becomes the most powerful through whatever means they see fit.

We have lost too many from incidents stemming from these atheist and socialist groups. James Varnas lost his mother just one year ago and now he has also been taken from us. With all the pain James Varnas experienced; with all the struggles he faced, it was faith that raised him up from the darkness as he turned to Christ.

James Varnas was a prime example of what a Christian should be. Time and time again, he put others before himself and in his final act; he gave his life for one of our own. How sad that our cross, a symbol of faith and love, could become the center of such hateful controversy.

An anonymous donor has left us with more than nine hundred reflective crosses at our newspaper. Each cross is four feet tall with a steak to ground it. When properly placed near the road, the headlights from passing traffic will illuminate the crosses. For those of you who have the capability, we'd also recommend spotlights. I ask that those of you who can, come to our offices and pick up one of the crosses to place in your front yard.

Let's remember James with a stream of crosses to light the way on Christmas Eve for all who pass through our town. Let's send a message to our representatives telling them that we will not stand for these oppressive acts that attempt to wipe clean from our country her religious freedom. Let's use luminaries to line our sidewalks and our driveways on Christmas Eve to show the world that the light of Christ cannot be extinguished and to remind us all that the heart of James will not be forgotten.'

And so it was that James was not forgotten. On that clear Christmas Eve, the symbol of Christian faith was placed in nearly every yard in Tremont. Those who didn't take advantage of the Record's offer purchased their own crosses to place in front of their homes. With colored lights, luminaries, reindeer and nativities, from the WXIX TV chopper, the town sparkled like a reflection of heaven itself.

The Americans for Religious Justice continued with their lawsuits and they were joined by the Eastern Socialist Labor Party who still protested at the park whenever an event brought the press, but for the time being, their efforts to have the memorial cross removed failed. It's doubtful that they ever knew what happened on that day in December when their mean-spirited torments took an innocent life. They assumed they were just demonstrating and making a point. The police weren't able to catch anyone as they scattered from the scene disappearing into traffic. Unrelenting and counting on a culture of indifference to morality, the continuous goal of the faithless was to wear down society into accepting a world where self-gratification and power ruled over the commandments of our faith.

Yet, there was still promise if narratives of optimism continued to be chronicled; if schools and churches kept on teaching the values and principles on which America was built. Interestingly, it was in the prison where James' dad would spend the rest of his years that a man who had spent the first half of his life enveloped in hate, Herman Varnas studied endlessly to become the minister that his son had hoped to be. His sermons were filled with the regrets of his life as he spread the accounts of the sinful actions that took the lives of his family; but in recounting the gift of God's Grace, he was also able to bring hope where there had been none before.

Then, there was Maggie McGregor. After graduating from John Brown U, she landed a job at WXIX as a headline social commentator who dedicated her program to re-establishing a moral foundation in a society where it was losing its way. She often gave speeches at high schools and colleges, giving counsel to students who wanted to start their own values based programs.

Maggie spent several months interviewing the towns' folk in Tremont, gathering information from her old friends and neighbors for a documentary she would call The Rewards to be found when following a Christian Path. During that time, she recalled the year when so many people were encouragingly touched by James as she remembered her promise to him. At the end of her last show before she would take a week off for Christmas, Maggie announced her first novel. Her husband stood proudly at the door of the studio with their baby boy in his arms. Maggie waved to Rick and said on air, "That's my honey over there. You probably know him as one of our legal contributors. Camera one, can you get a shot of him? That's our son he's holding. We named him after the amazing person who was the subject of my book."

Maggie held up her book to show the cover to the camera which depicted a young man wearing a black leather jacket and a minister's stole wrapped around his shoulders. She described its premise to be how one person overcame unspeakable adversities with the promise of God's Love; how God's plan might take turns we could never anticipate. But always in the end, The Story of James revealed that; although the outcome may not be what we imagined, it always serves the betterment of mankind.

THE END

INDEX

