When I got the three season DVD set of Beauty and the Beast I remembered how much I loved the series when it was new in the 1980’s. Sadly, I also remembered how much I disliked the way it ended. It felt unfinished to me. Surely after all that Catherine and Vincent had gone through, they deserved to end up together. I firmly believe that any story that begins with “Once upon a time…” deserves to end with “… ever after.”  Since I renewed my acquaintance with the show in 2013, this alternate resolution to the story has been bouncing around in my head. I wonder if Ron Koslow has been haunted over the years by his “unfinished symphony? If so, I would remind him that “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens, which was a centerpiece of the series, actually had two endings. The original ending was unsatisfactory to his friends and so he made it better. So I have taken it upon myself to make it right. This is my feeble effort, such as it is….

**Many thanks to Judith Nolan and Angie Burns for their kind encouragement and editorial expertise.

-Barbara Handshy Anderson

Beauty and the Beast:

Unbreakable

Listen as you read; 03 Laura's Theme - Beauty and the Beast - Of Love and Hope http://youtu.be/EpsAUOx-lns

“…That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the first link on one memorable day.” [1]

Two years …

… two years since Vincent had brought his tiny, miraculous son home with him to the tunnels. He couldn’t look at the face of his little boy without seeing the face of the woman he had lost or without marveling at the miracle little Jacob was to him. He shuddered to think what Catherine’s death would have done to him if she had not left this precious, priceless gift to fill the gaping hole in his heart. Sometimes he almost thought he could feel her presence as he read to the boy or played with him in his chamber. As Vincent watched his sleeping son, he drifted off to sleep wishing that Catherine could have seen the beautiful masterpiece their love had made.

In his dreams Vincent found himself standing at her graveside. It was a dream he had from time to time. She would come there and comfort him with a poem he had heard somewhere before…

Stop for a moment and listen:  Libera - Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep      http://youtu.be/Ag_vltbWHz8

Catherine’s Journal

January 24, 1992

Two years. It’s hard to believe that two years have passed since the last time I laid eyes on you, Vincent, and our beautiful son. It feels like a lifetime. There are no words to tell you how much I miss you. I sometimes find myself wandering the tunnels in my dreams. I sometimes find myself in your chamber watching you rock our son or read to him the way you used to read to me. In my dreams, it seems so real that I can almost touch you. And then I wake up and remember that it can never be. I find comfort knowing that you have each other. Do you ever dream of me Vincent? If you do, I hope it doesn’t cause you pain. I hope there is sweetness in the memory.

Do Not Stand By My Grave And Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.                                                                                                     I am the soft stars that shine at night.                                                                                        Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die. [2]

It is true that I did not die, Vincent. But you can never know.

Feb 7, 1992

Dear Vincent,

I am not sure how to explain to you the choices I have made or even where to begin. I don’t know why it even matters, because you will never read this. If I had tried to explain it to you in person, Vincent, I know you never would have let me go. I know you would have sacrificed everything for me. You’ve proven that over and over again. Now it’s my turn to sacrifice for you, for our child and for everyone in the tunnels who have given me so much. If I had stayed, if I had taken refuge there, I would have endangered not only you and our son, but the very existence of the world Father has created. I hope that by putting it down on paper I will somehow find peace in the life I now find myself. I hope you know how truly, how deeply I loved you, still love you…will always love you.  I don’t regret a moment of what we had together or the choices I have made. I only regret that I have caused you so much pain.  I regret that I have never touched our son, or held him in my arms or sung to him the way my own mother sang to me. I have no doubt that he will grow up surrounded by love. You and Father will make sure of that. Knowing that you are both alive and safe and that you have each other gives me the strength to stay away.

Feb 8, 1992

Where can I begin? I suppose I should begin in the cave where you came a breath away from dying in my arms. You knew that the connection we had with each other was broken that terrible night when you nearly lost your life. You assumed afterward that something must be broken in you. Not for one moment did you suspect any other possibility. I was waiting for you to regain your strength before explaining it to you. I thought there would be time for that. I was wrong. You see … the connection was broken by me…

I have never been as frightened as I was that night. You died in my arms, Vincent[3] , and I couldn’t face a life without you in it, my world without you in it. (It sounds foolish now because by the choices I’ve made I find myself facing my life without you in it after all. But you are alive, Vincent, and that has to be enough) By some miracle you began to breathe again and as I held you for what seemed like an eternity, all I could do was pray … and think.

In those hours as I watched your every breath, I began to ask myself what part I had played in bringing you to that point. I began asking myself difficult questions that I had been too selfish, too foolish, or too afraid to ask before. Questions like; What had it done to you each time you came to rescue me from my own recklessness? Had you ever killed anyone before the first time you saved me? And if not, what had that done to you? How it must have wounded your gentle spirit. How could I have been so blind to your pain, to the torment that loving me had caused you? I was so ashamed by what the answers said about me and the incredible selfishness of my love. I nearly destroyed you with my love, Vincent, and you willingly let me do it. In those dark hours in that cave I made a bargain, a solemn promise with God, with the universe and with myself, that if by some miracle you lived through that awful night, I would do everything in my power to make sure you would never again feel my fear or be tortured by my emotions. I knew that if you were going to live, our connection had to be broken. I knew I could do it. I HAD TO DO IT! I had done it once before, when Paracelsus had taken me.[4] I just didn’t know how hard it would be. And I had no idea at the time how soon my commitment to that promise with God would be tested.

Feb 10, 1992

I don’t know how much you know about why or how I disappeared.

I was investigating a case which led me to knowledge of things that put me, as well as others, in danger. I was betrayed and kidnapped by someone I trusted. In that awful moment I wanted so desperately to reach out to you, to call out to you. But the memory of that promise and my fear of destroying you were greater than my fear of being kidnapped.

I was drugged repeatedly. They wanted information that I couldn’t give them. I worried that the drugs could harm our baby, our child that was growing inside of me. In my drugged desperation I called out to you on the pipes[5] , and you found me. You came so close, Vincent. Afterward I was so angry with myself for my weakness. I was worried that by reaching out to you that night, by making you kill for me again, you would relapse into that dark place. I was so ashamed and angry at myself for putting you yet again in danger.

The man who kept me I eventually knew as Gabriel. He was fascinated, by me… He became obsessed with you… After keeping me for months I realized that he wanted our child. … He wanted you too.

Over those months I didn’t know what to do. He never spoke to me, but I could feel him watching me. If I let you feel my emotions, I knew you would come to me. I knew you would kill for me. I knew you would rescue me or die trying. But if I called to you, if I allowed you to feel my fear, then you might sink back into that awful place that God had brought you back from, or worse. If I didn’t call out to you, I could lose our child.

I have never felt as helpless as I did in those terrible lonely days.

Feb 15, 1992

When our son was born, I finally saw the man, Gabriel, face to face for the first time. I never knew before that moment that evil had a face. And the doctor gave our child to him! He placed our precious, beautiful, miraculous son into the arms of evil. I begged and he let me look at him for a few seconds. I was so filled with love for him in that moment, and then he was gone. The doctor injected me with something. It wasn’t until then that I fully realized I was going to die. He said I wouldn’t suffer.

As I felt myself slipping away, I heard the helicopter, and I thought I felt you. Somehow I got to the roof…and you were there, Vincent. I’m still not sure how you found me. But in that instant I felt such comfort that you were there, such sorrow, that in death I would again cause you pain, and relief because I knew that you would find a way to save our precious son.

As I slipped into darkness, I felt so overwhelmed by the sweetness of you. You held me in your arms so gently and whispered my name. You smelled so wonderful. I could feel your warm tears on my face. It was as if I had been in the desert, dying of thirst, and your tears were the sweetest water I had ever tasted. I felt so safe in your embrace. I was finally home, in your arms. I could feel you carrying me. I was comforted by the thought that you were taking me home to the tunnels with you. I thought that even though I couldn’t live in your world in life, at least I could be there with you in death. I was finally going home to stay.

What a beautiful word that is… HOME.

After my father died, you became my only home, Vincent. Some people dream of a home as a beautiful house filled with beautiful things. But Vincent, there was never a home more beautiful to me than the home you made for me in your arms. It was a wonderful place to die…if one must die… But then … I didn’t die, did I?

After a while I became confused. When it happened before…you remember the time[6] …I saw a beautiful light. I saw my parents reaching for me. I heard my mother calling my name. I was filled with happiness and enveloped in the warmth of their love.

This was different. It was just very dark. I could feel you. I could feel you breathing, and softly crying. I could hear the sounds of the night. I was aware of everything, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak.

I could feel you carrying me … but you didn’t take me to the tunnels. You didn’t take me home with you. When I realized we were in my apartment I was even more confused. But you stayed there with me. You held my hand. You quietly wept. I began to think that I might not die after all. Maybe you knew I was only sleeping. I began to think that you were just waiting for me to wake up. But I wasn’t sleeping, I was awake. I was aware of every breath, every tear. And then you kissed me and said “goodbye”. Your words are forever etched into my heart and mind. You softly whispered “While I live, you live, with me, in me … Always.” I tried then to call out to you. In my head I begged you not to leave me. I knew I wasn’t safe. I was so afraid. In that moment I didn’t care about the promise I had made. I just wanted you to come back and take me with you. But you couldn’t hear me. You couldn’t feel me…

…And then I was alone.

March 15, 1992

I haven’t written for a while. It’s difficult feeling the emotions that come with the memories. But I feel compelled to write it down. I hope it will help me move passed it. I have to move passed this. I have to be in control of my emotions, or I am afraid that you will know and you will find me. You can never find me, Vincent.

… I’m not sure how long I laid there alone in my apartment. I was afraid to be there alone. I tried to call out to you.[7]

The next thing I remember is voices…confusion…people. I don’t know who. Looking back, I’m sure it was the police. My apartment was a crime scene. They thought I was dead too. I heard someone say, “Bag her hands, I don’t want to lose anything on the way in”. As they put me in the body bag I was screaming in my head, I’M NOT DEAD!!!! But they couldn’t hear me. No one could hear me.

I must have lost consciousness then, because I don’t remember anything until I woke up.

I was in a small room. Everything was white. The walls were white. The bedding was white. My clothes were white. The door was white. Even the door knob was white. I wasn’t sure if I was dead or in a hospital. I felt like I was in a dream or a fog. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make anything work. There was a television high on the wall and two cameras mounted in the corners near the ceiling. When I looked for the window to see if it was daytime or night, I realized there were no windows. I thought maybe I was in a mental hospital. I couldn’t pull my thoughts together. Was I dead after all?

And then they walked in…

March 22, 1992

I dreamed I was on my old balcony last night. But it was different. Looking through the window, I could see that someone else was living there. There were no traces of my life left. No sign that I had ever been there. I could see the lights of the city as clearly as I ever did. But it was cold and you weren’t there. Sometimes I wonder if there is any trace of me left anywhere. Being dead … and yet not being dead is … Sometimes I feel so lost.

****

… When they walked into the room … My heart sank as I realized it was the doctor and the nurse that had cared for me all those months that I was pregnant, before I died. When I saw their faces, I was stunned and confused. Were you just a dream? Or did I really die in your arms? I tried to speak. I wanted to ask them where my baby was. Was he all right? When could I see him? But they didn’t speak to me. They just checked my vital signs … and then they…

…I can’t even bring myself to write it … my hand shakes very time I try … .but I was sure then that I was alive. I had no idea how long it had been since … since anything.

There was no way to track time. I had no idea where I was or when it was. I stayed awake until I got tired and then I slept. Sometimes when I woke up there was food in my room. Sometimes when I woke up it was gone. Sometimes it seemed like the lights were not turned off for days. Other times it felt like I spent days in the dark. I spoke to no one and no one spoke to me. Sometimes I could hear a baby crying. I don’t know if that was real or if I imagined it. I began to think I must be insane or I really was dead. Or was someone trying to drive me insane? It felt like I was buried alive.

One day he came there, to my room. That’s when he told me his name was Gabriel.  I have never felt such evil in the presence of anyone. Was he even human?

He said, “You intrigue me, Miss Chandler.” And then he said, “Your strength is a rare thing. Where does it come from? Does it come from him? Who is he? What is he? Does he have a name? Tell me, Miss Chandler, where does he live? He must live somewhere. ”

When I didn’t speak he continued.

“You do know you’re dead, don’t you?” He laughed softly then… “At least to everyone who ever cared about you. They’ve all stopped looking for you, Catherine. The investigation is closed. It’s as if you never even existed.”

He reminded me of a snake when he spoke.

He said, “You had a lovely funeral, by the way. People cried. They threw dirt and flowers into your grave. And then they all went on with their lives … But HE didn’t come. I wonder why?”

He was quiet for a while as he just stood there watching me. I guess he was looking for some sort of reaction … I knew that I couldn’t give him that satisfaction. I couldn’t let myself feel anything. I met his gaze. I didn’t want him to see any weakness in me.

He kept asking me questions like; “He’s magnificent. Who is he? I want to meet him. Will you tell me where he lives? I admire his strength, his power. Don’t you want him to meet his child?”

I felt such cold when he was there. When I didn’t speak, he became impatient. His voice became even more frightening.

“No one is unbreakable Miss Chandler. I’ve broken many strong men and I can break you.” He hissed at me and it sent chills through me.

I suppose I had gotten used to being silent, because I felt no desire to speak or respond to him in anyway. I just met his stare and tried to show no emotion.

Then he yelled, “I   own    you!    I   own   your   child!   And   I   will    own    him!”

He left me then. Alone and shaking in my silent tomb.

April 12, 1992

Will this day ever pass without the memory of the wonder and love you brought into my life? The night you found me, Vincent, and everything changed. The sadness is overwhelming sometimes, but I wouldn’t exchange what we had together for anything. I suppose the pain is the price… the price for the amazing gift that you were to me. The memory of your love still gives me strength.

There is a passage in Great Expectations where Pip says, “…That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the first link on one memorable day.” [8]

There is such truth in those words, Vincent. I can still hear your voice when I read them. I would not exchange that memorable day for anything.

June 15, 1992

I suppose I should finish telling you how I managed to get where I am today. Not that I believe you will ever read this, Vincent, but because I need to explain it to make sense of it to myself.

After my first encounter with Gabriel I saw very little of him. I have no idea how long I was there … in that room … in that tomb, or why he was even keeping me alive. I believe he just found some sick pleasure in trying to make me suffer. Maybe if I had given him the satisfaction of seeing my pain, he would have put me out of my misery, but I refused to show him my pain.

Sometimes I could hear our son crying in my dreams. And in my dreams I discovered that I could walk through the walls that held me prisoner during my waking hours and I would follow the sound of his cries until I found his crib. Even in my dreams he was amazing and beautiful. I dreamed that he had your eyes. I would sing to him, the lullaby that my mother used to sing to me, and he would always stop crying. But whenever I reached out to touch him, the dream would end. My dreams actually became more real to me than the reality of my prison. Sometimes they still are. Maybe I am crazy…

Once in a while I would even find myself wandering the tunnels in my dreams. I think I was looking for you. I found you once, in that dark cave where you almost died. I called out to you to remind you to come and save our child.[9] But when you looked up, the dream ended and I was back in my private tomb.

I was a little afraid that by calling out to you in my dreams that you would hear me. I can control my thoughts and my emotions while I am awake, Vincent. But sooner or later everyone has to sleep.

June 25, 1992

He, Gabriel, came to my cell not long before the end. He said, “I’m sorry to inform you Miss Chandler, that Elliot Burch and Vincent …. are … dead. My deepest condolences.”

He had a disgusting smirk on his face as he said, “They died bravely, if that helps. But they were weak fools ...in the end, just like everyone else. Their love for you was their downfall if that makes it better?[10] Nevertheless, Miss Chandler, dead is still … dead.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like the walls were closing in on me. But I couldn’t let myself believe him. I couldn’t accept that I could be the reason, the cause of your destruction. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for the path of destruction I have left behind me. If Elliot had never met me, he would probably still be alive. How many other people would still be alive if they had never known me? How many lives were ruined because of me?

I needed to believe that you were still alive, Vincent. You were my only hope for our son. I’m not sure how I managed to live through those days. I suppose it was the love I had for our son and the hope that when I slept, I might be able to watch over him in my dreams.

July 1, 1992

One day when I woke up the television monitor was on in my room. I could see you. You were in a cage, chained to a wall[11] . It was the first time I had seen you with my waking eyes, since that night … the night I died. Seeing you there, and knowing you were alive and so close stirred so many emotions in me. I was so relieved to see that you were alive. I was so frightened for you, for all of us, when I realized that now he had us all. He was playing with us, like a psychopath that tortures small animals before he tires of them and kills them. I could feel the shreds of my hope slipping away. I wanted so badly to reach out to you, Vincent, but I was so afraid that revealing myself would only make everything worse. I was trying so hard to keep myself from feeling anything.

I watched when you met our child for the first time,[12] held your son for the first time. What does it feel like Vincent, to hold our miracle in your hands? I ache when I think that I have never touched him, never smelled his sweetness, never kissed his little cheeks. I cherish the memory of the amazement and wonder on both of your faces as you looked at each other for the first time. I could see and feel the overwhelming love you had for him. It gave me, still gives me, such strength. I think somehow the two of you saved each other that day.

I saw everything else Gabriel did to you too.[13] How he tortured you…. Can you ever forgive me, Vincent?

Gabriel said, “No one is unbreakable.” He was right. I felt something shatter inside of me that day to see you suffer so. There are no words to tell you how sorry I am for what you went through because of me.

I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for what you have suffered because you chose to love me, Vincent. I vowed then that if by some miracle we lived through it all, that I would go as far away from you as I possibly could to protect you from me.

Knowing that I only have the power to cause you pain, Vincent, breaks my heart. Please believe that all I ever wanted to do was love you. I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….

July 21, 1992

The last day. The day it all ended. I believe he was going to kill us all. I could feel something terrible bearing down on me. It all happened so fast. I saw on my television as Gabriel killed the doctor when you refused. How he taunted you.

The nurse that had been my captor, my minder for so long, came into my room. She had a syringe. I was sure she was going to kill me. But having you so near gave me strength and I was determined to resist her to my last breath. She looked at me so strangely. With fear? I’m not sure. She didn’t speak, and then she turned and left without closing the door. I don’t know if she meant to do that or if she just made a mistake. I didn’t have the courage to walk through the open door for quite some time. At some point I heard a terrible roaring. I knew that it must be you. I saw on the monitor how you tore apart your cage to save our son. You must have been near because I could smell the scent of your burned flesh in the air. I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of dread. As I left my prison I was disoriented. I felt such urgency in that moment but I had no idea where I was or where to go. I was in a basement. It was large. There were barrels and boxes everywhere. Then I heard something from the far end of the room so I hid. I saw a woman I had never seen before come out of a hole in the wall. She had a gun. She heard you too. I heard her whisper your name. She passed by me quickly. I was frozen with fear. I was shaking from head to toe. I was so afraid that I would be caught. I could hear your rage. And then it was quiet. I thought I heard a gunshot from somewhere.

And then you were there. I could see that you had our son in your arms. You passed by so close to me that I could have touched you. I almost reached out to you. I tried to whisper your name. But it had been so long since I had spoken to anyone that I couldn’t. Then I remembered my vow. I knew that as long as I was in your life, you would always be in danger. You would always be tormented by me. I know now that I only have the power to destroy you, and our son. I watched as you climbed into that hole in the wall and escaped from that nightmare.

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, and then I followed you into the hole. I followed as quietly as I could. I didn’t want you or anyone else to hear me. When I came out into the larger tunnels, I was eventually able to find my way up into the street. I must have looked so strange, dressed in white and covered with dirt. I hid in an alley for a long time. I’m not sure how long. Some of it is kind of a blur. I desperately needed help, but I didn’t know who to trust.

Somehow I found my way to Peter Alcott. He was so shocked when he saw me standing there at his door. He looked like he was seeing a ghost. Huh…I guess he was. I collapsed in his arms. He caught me and brought me inside. He was going to contact Father and tell him that I was alive when I finally found my voice. I screamed “NO!” I desperately begged him not to contact anyone. He agreed for the time being. And then he put me to bed in a spare room. It was the first time I had felt safe in such a long time.

August 30, 1992

When I came to myself again I was surprised to find that several days had past. Peter said I had been ill with a fever for days. He insisted that I stay there with him until he was satisfied that I was well. I reluctantly agreed. After all, where did I have to go anyway? I was dead and I didn’t know who I could trust. If my boss was corrupt, I didn’t know who else might be.

Over the course of the following days, I tried to explain to Peter everything that had happened and why I needed to get as far away from New York as possible. He was reluctant, but he finally agreed to help me. He was able to help me to establish a new identity, Cici Chamberlain: a birth certificate, a driver’s license, a new passport, even a social security number. I’m not sure how he did it, but he even figured out a way for me to access to my finances. Peter has solemnly sworn to keep my secret until the end of his days. I believe he will.

So there it is Vincent, in all its ugliness. A small part of me still dreams that one day I will be able to come back and explain it all to you in person, and you will understand. But I can’t really see how that can ever be.

For the better part of the past two years I have just been wandering the world alone. There are so many beautiful places in the world, Vincent. But I can’t find joy in any of them. Wherever I go, I can only wish that I could share them all with you. Sometimes I think I feel you there and I think that if I just look quickly enough that I will see you there beside me. As I travel, I am surrounded by people. But I rarely speak to anyone. I hardly ever touch anyone. I feel so disconnected from life. It’s like I really am a ghost, cursed to wander the earth.

Lately I find myself searching for a way to make my life, such as it is, mean something, Vincent. I can’t just keep wandering. Why did I survive? What is the point of living through what I lived through if it doesn’t mean something?

I find comfort in the last words we spoke to each other … “Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.” “While I live, you live, with me, in me … Always.” Those words are burned into my heart.

Maybe now that I have written it down I will be able to make peace with it.

I wish you peace as well Vincent. Please love our son for the both of us. I ache every hour of every day for you both.

Forever, Catherine

Stop and listen; Surprised by Joy https://youtu.be/kNvK6NSOCrw

… Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind –

But how could I forget thee? - Through what power,

Even for the least division of an hour,

Have I been so beguiled as to be blind

To my most grievous loss? – That thought's return

Was the worse pang that sorrow ever bore,

Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,

Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;

That neither present time nor years unborn

Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.[14]

A Life With Meaning

“Cici Chamberlain” had traveled the world in a fog of pain and loss for almost two years after she left New York. She was trying to heal and to make sense of everything that had happened to her. She was trying to find a reason to go on.

One evening while walking down a busy street in Bangkok, Thailand, something caught her attention. Two small children, a little boy, possibly 7 years old and a little girl of about 4, both almost naked and very dirty, were foraging in the garbage in an alley. They were celebrating their good fortune at finding a discarded, half eaten mango. Having just begun to enjoy their happy little feast, a shop owner came out of her place of business and shooed them away as if they were stray dogs. The urchins quickly scurried away and huddled together in a nearby bus shelter. The boy lovingly put his arms around the little girl to comfort her and encouraged her to finish her food.

Something about these children tugged at Cici’s heart. It was a shock for her. She had spent most of the last two years trying not to feel anything. She had gone out of her way not to participate in any significant way in the humanity that swirled around her. But something about these forlorn and pitiful little children was pulling her to them. She made her way to a nearby noodle cart and bought a little bag of sticky rice and chicken satay, and a little bag of juice. She slowly approached the bus shelter so as not to frighten the children. They cowered close together as she approached, so Cici gently lay the food down on the bus bench near them and slowly walked away.

As she walked back to her hotel that night Cici felt very different than she had felt when she had left that morning. She felt the sensation that she was breathing deeply after being deprived of oxygen for a long time. Everything around her seemed like it was in sharper focus.  She could feel her heart beating. She was very aware of everything around her. She felt as if a heavy, oppressing fog was beginning to lift. She couldn’t stop thinking about those two pitiful little children.

Over the next several days Cici kept a distant eye on these two children. She was trying to determine if they had anyone taking care of them. As far as she could see they only had each other. Cici wondered how this could be. How could such small children be alone in the world and invisible to everyone around them? And yet Cici had been invisible for the better part of two years. Somehow these little children had found a way to survive, much like the stray dogs that were a normal part of everyday life in this city.

Something needed to be done. Cici couldn’t stand to see these children living in such conditions. She began to search the city for an orphanage or a children’s home that could help. She finally found a Thai worker at a nearby children’s home that was able to approach the children. Over a period of time the story they told her broke Cici’s heart. Which was surprising to her, because Cici didn’t think there was enough left of her heart to break.

When Thanit was about 5 years old and his little sister Noi was 2 years old, their parents had been killed in a tragic accident. They lived in a small village up country. Because of common cultural superstitions their relatives were sure that these children must somehow be responsible for this tragedy and they were afraid to take the children in. So they pooled their money and bought bus tickets for them. On the day they were placed on the bus, Thanit’s uncle told him, “This bus is taking you to Bangkok. If you ever come back here, we will kill you.” When the bus stopped in Bangkok, the bus driver put them off of the bus at this bus shelter. It had been their home ever since.

Today was the last day that Thanit and Noi lived in the bus shelter.

Cici cried herself to sleep that night. How could two little children be so lost and rejected by the world? By the very people who should have loved them and protected them? She didn’t know how long it had been since she had cried. It was both frightening to her and oddly cleansing.

As she drifted off to sleep she found herself wandering the tunnels and watching another small boy playing happily in an old familiar chamber…

****

Somewhere in a tunnel deep beneath the streets of New York, Vincent had an overwhelming feeling like a damn inside of him had burst. He had to stop what he was doing and try to catch his breath. And then as quickly as this feeling had come, it washed over him and passed. He was confused by it. It felt something like his old connection with Catherine. He felt a need to go back to his chamber and check on little Jacob. As Vincent picked up his little boy and held him tight, he thought he could hear the echo of something Catherine had said to him once in this very room….. “There are so many gifts waiting for you Vincent! All you have to do is open your arms…”[15] He hadn’t fully understood what she was saying to him that day, but now as he held his son in his arms he was keenly aware of what a gift little Jacob was. He thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye. As he turned to look, whoever or whatever it was, was gone.

That night as Vincent slept he found himself lost in the dark and then he saw it for the first time, the flame of a single candle flickering in the wind.

****

The orphanage in Bangkok was too full for Thanit and Noi to stay. A place was finally found for them in a children’s home in the country. Cici agreed to accompany them there. She wanted to be sure they ended up in a good place. When Cici arrived at the orphanage with Thanit and Noi, she could see that the orphanage was in desperate need of any help they could get. She decided to stay on for a little while as a volunteer and teach English, and to keep an eye on the children she had saved. The orphanage staff were grateful for ay help they could get. During the days and weeks that followed Cici began to find new purpose and direction to her life that would guide and sustain her for many years to come. As it turned out, three orphans found a new home that day.

Looking back years later Cici wondered if she had really saved those two little children, or if they had saved her.

Stop and listen:  Go Light Your World http://youtu.be/TUTWR4vVIjU

Among the Ruins

April 12, 1993   3 am

Vincent found himself wandering in his dreams in a strange and magical place. The sky was clear and blue. He was surrounded by ancient ruins of … Was it a palace? He wasn’t sure. Everywhere he looked there were ruined towers that still bore witness to their former grandeur. Here and there he could see saffron draped statues of Buddha. Most of the statues were broken. Then from behind one of the statues appeared … Catherine? She looked sad as she walked among the ruins. Vincent tried to catch up to her, to speak to her. She seemed oblivious to anyone around her. He followed her, intrigued. She walked around a large tree and stopped. She turned to Vincent and motioned for him to come closer. She pointed at the tree trunk and then he saw it. Over the centuries this tree had grown up through and around a part of the ruins and enveloped a beautiful head of one of the broken statues. It was breathtaking how nature had embraced the ruins and made something that was broken into something beautiful. And then he heard her speak.

Smiling, Catherine turned to Vincent and said, “Vincent, what a surprising reminder that there can still be beauty among the ruins.”

Vincent smiled back as he reached for her hand and she disappeared.

Vincent woke up. It seemed as if her voice echoed in his chamber, “… there can still be beauty among the ruins.”

He looked at his sleeping son and agreed that there was indeed still beauty among the ruins. Vincent lay awake for a while pondering the dream as he realized what day it was.

****

Catherine’s Journal

April 12, 1994

On this day I always find myself missing the people that I love. I spent the day wandering around an immense ancient ruined kingdom. But even in its ruined state it was still stunning and beautiful. A little bit like my love for you, Vincent.

****

December 12, 1994

Jake was 5 years old. Vincent could hardly believe that 5 years had passed since his son was born. It was also the anniversary of Catherine’s death, which made the day bittersweet. But even in her death, Catherine had given Vincent the most amazing gift, beyond anything he could ever have imagined, a son. Despite the remembrance of Catherine’s loss, Vincent could not help but feel that his life was incredibly blessed. How he wished they could have shared it together.

****

Catherine’s Journal

December 12, 1994

His birthday is today, Vincent. Our son is 5 years old. I try not to think too much about the two of you, but there are days like today when I can’t help it. I ache to know that I am missing the joy of watching him grow and discover the magic and wonder in his world. I have to be satisfied with seeing you both in my dreams. Even though I know that they aren’t real, I still cherish them. They are all that I have left.

Music for Angels

June 15, 1995

Vincent and Jacob were the best of friends. … The New York Philharmonic was playing Schubert in a concert in Central Park. Vincent thought it was somehow appropriate that Jacob’s first concert would be Schubert.[16] He remembered another concert in the park with Catherine in what seemed like another life.

Jacob was so excited to be going on an adventure with his Dad. He was going to be allowed to stay up past his bedtime. What could be more exciting than that? Jacob was a typical 5 year old boy. He was so full of energy and curiosity and mischief. Just watching him in action was enough to make one tired. Jacob and Vincent had planned carefully for this night. A picnic dinner made up of their favorite foods, including a little chocolate cake.

As they settled in for the concert, Vincent couldn’t help but smile. Ghosts of memories swirled around this spot. Sweet memories of what he had shared here with Catherine intermingled with Jacob’s incessant, excited chatter. Vincent still looked at Jacob from time to time with amazement and wonder at the miracle that was his son.

Jacob was playing with a favorite carved wooden toy. He had a little bit of chocolate icing on his face that bore witness to how much he had enjoyed his picnic dinner. As Jacob looked up he could see a strange expression on his father’s face. For a moment he forgot his toy and came close to Vincent’s face. With their noses almost touching he took his father’s face in his little hands and asked, “Are you okay, Daddy?”

Coming to himself, Vincent gave his son a big hug and replied, “I’m fine, Jacob. Why did you ask that?”

Cocking his head to one side and scrunching up his mouth Jacob said, “You had a funny look on your face, Daddy.”

“You mean like this?” Vincent asked pulling a silly face.

At that, Jacob began to giggle and said, “No, Daddy, not like that!”

“You mean like this?” Vincent tried another one. As he began to tickle Jacob, they both were reduced to a fit of giggles.

To Vincent, Jacob’s laughter was as sweet as any music he had ever heard.

Presently they could hear the sounds of the instruments. The concert was about to begin. Quickly they put everything back into the picnic basket and settled down for the concert.

Jacob was enthralled by the music. He could feel the magic and reverence of this place, but he was too little to fully understand its significance. He desperately fought off fatigue as the music went on. He snuggled into his father’s big arms, and despite his best efforts to stay awake his little head began to droop on Vincent’s chest. Just as he started to fall asleep, there was a huge clap of thunder and Jacob was jolted wide awake.

Jacob instinctively threw his arms around his father’s neck and asked, “DADDY? What was that?”

“I think it was thunder, Jacob,” Vincent answered as he hugged his boy tighter.

Just then the rain began to pour through the grate directly above their heads. Jacob jumped to his feet and began to laugh and twirl and dance in the rain.

Vincent was caught up in the moment of pure joy and they laughed together. And then they heard it…. the sound of a woman’s laughter. Vincent recognized it instantly and it pierced him to the heart. They both froze and looked toward it. And there, standing not far from them in the tunnel was … Catherine? …smiling at them … and in that instant she was gone.

They both stood there in stunned silence, in the rain and looked at the spot where she had just stood.

Jacob was the first to speak. “She came, Daddy! She came! It’s been so long since she came. Did you see her, Daddy? Did you see?”

Roused from his shocked silence, Vincent got down on his knees so he could look at Jacob face to face and asked, “Do you know her, Jacob?”

“She’s my angel, Daddy,” Jacob answered with a little smile.

“Your … angel?” Vincent asked in a confused tone. He felt his head spinning a little.

Jacob just nodded and said, “Uh-huh. She’s my angel, Daddy. She comes sometimes, you know, when I have bad dreams, when the bad man comes and when I’m afraid of the dark.”

“How long has she been coming to you, Jacob?” Vincent asked.

“I don’t know, Daddy. Forever … I think. Is that okay?” Jacob was a little concerned.

Vincent picked Jacob up and hugged him. “Yes, Jacob, that’s okay.” Vincent’s heart was overflowing in that moment. “That is very okay, Jacob,” he said as he held his son a little tighter.

Changing the subject Vincent said, “Now, little man, we’d better get home and put on some dry clothes before we catch cold.”

They walked home while Vincent carried a very soggy and sleepy little boy in his arms. As Jacob rested his head on his father’s big shoulders, he told his Dad all about his angel. Drifting off to sleep Jacob sang strains of a lullaby that Vincent thought he had heard somewhere before…Sleep my little one. Rest now my little one. Close your eyes. The day is nearly done. Rest your head. Tomorrow will surely come…[17]

Vincent was amazed and awed by what had happened. Over the past 5 years there had been many times when he thought he had felt her presence or had seen her from the corner of his eye. But whenever he turned to look, she was gone. He had convinced himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Just shadows of memories that lingered in his heart and in the places they had shared. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When Vincent spoke to Father about the amazing experience, Father expressed his concern.

“Are you saying … that you believe Catherine is haunting the tunnels?” he asked, squinting in unbelief.

“No, Father, not haunting, just … watching over us. I don’t know how. I only know what I saw,” Vincent observed.

Father spoke slowly in unbelief, “The connection … between the two of you,             Vincent … was so strong, from the very beginning. But this? Even in death? After all this time it seems as if it’s ...”

Vincent finished the thought, “… unbreakable?”

They sat together in silence for a long while.

When Vincent fell asleep that night he dreamed of another time, and another concert in the park, and his dream was a dream of unexpected joy.[18]

Stop and listen; Longing https://youtu.be/u6MOxukMdJ4

****

Catherine’s Journal

June 16, 1995

In my dreams last night I found myself in the tunnel underneath the stage in Central Park. I could see you there with our son. In my dream they were playing Schubert and it started to rain. He began to laugh and dance in the rain and it made me smile as I remembered what we had shared there. Sometimes I remember such moments of joy that we shared, Vincent, and I feel so blessed. As I watched you both, I began to laugh and suddenly you both stopped and looked at me. And then I woke up.

…how I wish I could have stayed a while.

If I Had But Two Little Wings

If I had but two little wings

And were a little feathery bird,

To you I’d fly, my dear!

But thoughts like these are idle things

And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:

I’m always with you in my sleep!

The world is all one’s own.

And then one wakes, and where am I?

All, all alone.

SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE

Choice

Catherine’s Journal

April 12, 1997

10 years, Vincent, since the first time you saved me. How I wish I was spending this day with you and our son. Sometimes it feels like a million years since you were in my life. Sometimes I wonder if it ever really happened at all or if it was all a wonderful and terrible dream. And sometimes I can feel you so close that it seems as if we have never been apart. Be well, Vincent. Be safe, Vincent. Love our son for me, Vincent.

****

April 12, 1997   2 am

Vincent was always more quiet and subdued around this time every year. As the day approached she would be more on his mind than usual. He wondered if this day would ever lose its meaning and significance for him. Or would his heart always be drawn back to the memory and the lost dream of her love? The feelings were bittersweet, but somehow he treasured them.

He walked alone through the tunnels until late into the night. When he finally went to sleep he almost immediately found himself transported to a faraway place. Looking around he thought he was standing on the Great Wall of China. Ever since childhood Vincent had dreamed of someday walking on the Great Wall of China. He had learned early in life that despite his waking limitations, his dreams could take him anywhere. But this dream tonight was beyond anything he had ever dreamed before. He could feel the stones beneath his feet and the warmth of the sun on his face in the afternoon breeze. This was more real than his regular dreams. As he began to walk he thought he could see Catherine a little ahead of him. She stopped and turned.

As he came close, she smiled and said, “Come walk with me in my dreams, Vincent.”

At first he reached for her hand, but she carefully avoided his touch, so he was content to just walk by her side. It seemed to him that they walked for miles in silence side by side. Finally she turned toward him. He could feel the warmth of her love as she said, “If all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream … then I choose to dream of you.”

When he woke up in his chamber he realized he had been walking with Catherine in his dreams for hours.

****

Catherine’s Journal

April 12, 1998

Sometimes when I am low, I think that I am the only one who has suffered a broken heart and the death of my dreams. Then I find a poem like this one that speaks to the ache of living a life without the one I love and I realize that I am not unique and I am not alone.

Choice

by Angela Morgan

I'd rather have the thought of you

To hold against my heart,

My spirit to be taught of you

With west winds blowing,

Than all the warm caresses

Of another love's bestowing,

Or all the glories of the world

In which you had no part.

I'd rather have the theme of you

To thread my nights and days,

I'd rather have the dream of you

With faint stars glowing,

I'd rather have the want of you,

The rich, elusive taunt of you

Forever and forever and forever unconfessed

Than claim the alien comfort

Of any other's breast.

O lover! O my lover,

That this should come to me!

I'd rather have the hope of you,

Ah, Love, I'd rather grope for you

Within the great abyss

Than claim another's kiss-

Alone I'd rather go my way

Throughout eternity.

A Dream Within A Dream

December 2000

It was almost time for Winter Fest. For the people who lived in the tunnels it was one of the most joyful times of the year. As Vincent, Pascal, Mouse and young Jacob went down to the Great Hall to see what preparations would be necessary they were unprepared for what they were about to see. As they approached the door at the top of the stairs Vincent thought he could see a dim light coming from under the door.

“That’s strange, there shouldn’t be anyone down here,” he said.

He opened the door as quietly as he could so as not to frighten whoever it might be. As he entered the door he could see a single candle flickering on one of the tables. There was a shadow on the wall that looked like a woman dancing. And then he saw her. Dancing around the center of the room was a woman in a beautiful long white gown.

Could it be … Catherine? he thought to himself. Vincent descended the stairs slowly and silently, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. As she danced he could see that her eyes were closed and she had a look of serene happiness on her face. As he came near her in the center of the room she opened her eyes and stopped suddenly. Her look of happiness changed instantly to a look of surprise and fear. As Vincent reached out to touch her … she disappeared.

He looked to the top of the stairs and saw Pascal and Mouse and Jacob looking on in bewildered silence.

After a few moments Pascal said, clapping his hands together, “Okaaay … so what should we do first? These tables aren’t going to repair themselves. Come on Mouse.”

To which Mouse replied, “Okay GOOD! Okay FINE!”

And they all went to work without speaking of the incident.

****

Catherine’s Journal

December 18, 2000

It’s almost time for Winterfest, Vincent. I found my way to the Great Hall last night in my dreams. I loved that room. I stood there in the middle of the room and listened for the music in the wind. There was a single candle lighting the room. I closed my eyes and began to dance there in the dim light and think of you. Sometimes I become too lost in my dreams. But it brings me such comfort when I find myself there. Even if it isn’t real, somehow it seems real to me.

I have learned that even in my dreams I need to stay hidden in the shadows. If anyone sees me, I wake up and it’s over. If I stay in the shadows and no one sees me I can stay longer. Sometimes I wish I could just stay asleep and wander the tunnels forever. Just knowing the two of you are there, nearby, is like a little bit of heaven to me.

Not that I am always sad when I’m awake. I have a good life here. It’s hard work. It keeps me busy and I have found a way to make my life mean something. It fills some of the emptiness in me.

I don’t know how long I was dancing there in the candlelight. But I heard a noise and when I opened my eyes, I saw you standing right in front of me. You were looking right at me, piercing me with your eyes. How long were you standing there, Vincent?  You reached out and touched me. And then I woke up and my heart was racing. I was so frightened. I can still feel the touch of your hand on my face. It felt like you had really found me…. You can never find me Vincent!

I haven’t been able to shake the feeling all day that somehow I have revealed myself to you. You can never find me, Vincent. You can never find me. When I am awake I can control my emotions, keep my mind off of you. But I have little control over what happens in my dreams. I hope that is all that they are, just dreams.

You once told me that one day I would live another life, and dream another dream …. You were only half right, Vincent. I am living another life. But there will never be another dream. My only dream is of the life I should have had with you.

A Dream Within A Dream

Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow-

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand-

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep- while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

April 12, 2001

On this day of all days Vincent, how I ache to be near you. I think the sweetness and the sadness of your memory will always be entwined around my broken heart. Sometimes I think it might be the only thing that is holding it together.

I Am Not Yours

by Sara Teasdale

I am not yours, not lost in you,

Not lost, although I long to be

Lost as a candle lit at noon,

Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still

A spirit beautiful and bright,

Yet I am I, who long to be

Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out

My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

Swept by the tempest of your love,

A taper in a rushing wind.

****

April 12, 2002, 1 am

Vincent couldn’t help it.  No matter how many years had passed, he still hoped that at least on this day, if none other, he might dream of her. That if they couldn’t be together in life that at least from time to time they could walk together for a little while in his dreams. Sometimes his wish didn’t come true. But this year as he slept his wish led him to her side. He found himself in the dark, walking toward the flame of a single candle. As he came close the candle diminished as the sun became brighter and brighter. He could hear the rushing of water. Looking around he discovered that he was in a forest of lush green trees. And there walking by his side, was Catherine. She seemed oblivious to his presence, but he didn’t care. He was thankful just to be there beside her. They came out into the bright sunshine and a breathtaking sight, unbelievably beautiful waterfalls. They walked along the edge of a cliff to get a better look. Finally she stopped to sit on some rocks. He watched her there. She seemed to be drinking in the serenity of the falls.

She closed her eyes and said, “Vincent, if I close my eyes I can almost imagine another waterfall in another world, in another life.” He could see her breathe deeply. And then smiling she said, “I go there sometimes in my dreams.”

He couldn’t help himself. Even though he knew it was only a dream, his heart swelled with love for her and he reached to touch her cheek. As he did so she disappeared and he woke up, alone in his chamber.

****

Every year Catherine looked forward to and dreaded the day at the same time. She never wanted to forget the night that brought Vincent into her life. But it was hard to remember, knowing that he would never be in her life again. She would often find a way to spend the day far away from anyone in her everyday life so that no one would see her as she mourned the death of her dreams.

This year she found herself hiking up to the Shifen Waterfalls in Taiwan. As she came up to the waterfalls, the sight took her breath away. She always found the sound of rushing water soothing. She found a peaceful place to sit. Closing her eyes she drank in the tranquility that surrounded her. As she sat there she began to imagine another waterfall, in another world, in another lifetime. In the hush she thought she could hear him whisper her name. She could almost feel his hand softly touching her cheek. She lifted her hand to touch his when she opened her eyes and realized there was no one there….

The Little Heart Stealer

February 5, 2009

After Cici had finished her teaching for the day, she headed over to the nursery. The orphanage had about 20 infants under the age of 6 months in the nursery these days and only 5 people working over there. Cici had developed a routine of spending a few hours each day there to help them out. She knew that babies needed to be held in order to thrive. And the truth was that there was something therapeutic in caring for tiny humans.

She went into the storage room to get a stack of clean diapers. As she was reaching for them, she thought she heard a faint sound. When she turned to see what it was, she spotted a bassinet in the back of the closet. The sound was coming from there. She slowly and cautiously went toward it. She didn’t want to be caught off guard by a mouse or a rat. But as she came closer she recognized that the sound was coming from a baby. As she lifted the blanket her heart broke for this helpless little person. It was a tiny little girl, not more than 6 pounds. She was no more than 3 days old. Her little face was deformed by a severe cleft lip. Her cries were barely audible, just a little whimper really, as if she had resigned herself to her fate and was trying to be as little trouble as possible.

Cici rushed out to find the nurse in charge of the nursery. When she found her, it was clear that Cici was very upset.

Cici asked, “Su, ทำไมจึงมีลูกน้อยที่ซ่อนตัวอยู่ในตู้เสื้อผ้าที่” “Su, why is there a baby hidden in the back of the store room?”

Su looked very worried and said, “คุณนายครับเข้าพักอยู่ห่างจากลูกน้อยที่ เป็นกำลังจะตายในไม่ช้านี้แล้ว” “Oh Madam, stay away from that baby. It’s going to die soon.”

Cici didn’t understand. “อะไรคือความผิดพลาดกับมัน” “What is wrong with it?”

Su answered, “คุณเห็นใบหน้าของลูกน้อย เธอเป็นเหมือนดั่งสัตว์ร้ายที่ เธอไม่สามารถกินได้ เธอจะตายในไม่ช้านี้แล้ว” “You can see her face, Madam. She like a baby monster. She cannot eat. She die very soon.”

Cici was becoming upset by the whole exchange. She said, “ฉันต้องการลองให้นมเธอ” “I want to try to feed her.”

Su was now becoming agitated, “คุณไม่สามารถป้อนนมลูกน้อยได้ ลูกน้อยที่เป็นความโชคร้ายเป็นอย่างมาก ไม่แตะหรือคุณจะมีโชคไม่ดี” “No. You cannot feed the baby. That baby is very bad luck! Don't touch it, or you will have bad luck!”

Cici would not back down. “Su ฉันจะไปลองใช้เพื่อป้อนนมให้ลูกน้อยที่ หากเธอกำลังจะตายก็ไม่ควรจะอยู่ในตู้เสื้อผ้า เธอควรจะจัดขึ้น เธอควรจะรัก” “Su, I am going to try to feed that baby! If she is going to die, she shouldn’t be in the closet. She should be held. She should be loved.”

Su could see that this stupid American woman was not going to listen to her. Cici would see. That baby will bring her bad luck. So Su told her, “คุณนายกรุ๊ปหากคุณต้องการให้นมเธอคุณสามารถป้อนนมของเธอ. คุณจะเห็นเธอโชคร้ายเป็นอย่างมาก ในตอนนี้คุณจะมีโชคไม่ดีเป็นอย่างมาก ”  “Madam Cici, If you want to feed her, you can feed her. You will see, she is very bad luck. Now you will have very bad luck”

With that Su washed her hands of the whole situation. She did not want Cici’s pending bad luck to come anywhere near her or the other babies in the nursery.

Cici laughed within herself and thought, Su, you would probably be shocked at how much “bad luck” I have already had.

Cici went back to the closet and picked up the tiny baby. She could see that her diaper was very soiled. Apparently all of the ladies in the nursery were too afraid of this unfortunate little girl to even care for her most basic needs. Cici would have cried if she wasn’t so angry. Over the years she had come to understand many of the superstitions of the Thai people. But she just couldn’t understand how anyone could allow a precious innocent little child like this to just die alone in the back of a closet. She picked up this tiny bundle of humanity and started by giving her a bath and putting her in fresh clothes. As she tried to feed her she could see that it would be a challenge. Cici could see that there was some deformity inside of her mouth as well. This made it very difficult for her to get the suction she needed to get the bottle to work. Finally Cici found that if she made the hole in the bottle larger and squirted a little bit of milk in the baby’s mouth then she could swallow it. She spent several hours cuddling and feeding the baby. Finally she pulled the bassinet out of the storage closet and put the baby to bed. She went to bed that night wondering what would become of this “unlucky” little orphan.

The next morning before she went to work, Cici stopped by the nursery to check on her new little charge. At first she couldn’t find the bassinet. The nurses in the nursery were avoiding her. Then she thought to check in the storage closet. Sure enough, there was the little bassinet in the same spot where she had found it the day before. When she picked the baby up, it was clear that no one had attended to her needs throughout the night. Cici was frustrated and angry, but she had come to understand that superstitions could have a strong hold over people. It was a part of this society, part of humanity. What they would think if they knew about the beautiful, amazing man that I love more than my own life? she wondered. If Vincent had been born here, would there have been anyone like Father to love him and keep him alive? She could see that if this baby was going to survive here, she would have to be the one to keep her alive. She again took the bassinet out of the closet and bathed and fed the tiny, helpless child.

****

Catherine’s Journal

February 6, 2009

This week I have been reminded of how cruel otherwise kind and gentle people can be when they are influenced by fear and superstition. I discovered a newborn baby hidden in the supply closet of the nursery. She is a sweet, quiet little thing. Her face is badly disfigured by a birth defect. No one wants to touch her for fear her bad fortune will be visited upon them. They would rather leave her to die alone in the supply closet, than to offer any love to a tiny helpless child.

I usually try to keep a certain distance from everyone. I try to keep myself from feeling too much. But my heart is drawn to this poor helpless child. I find myself feeling angry at a world that would turn its back on innocent children.

I find myself wondering what would have happened to you, Vincent, if someone had not reached out to save you? How many children are forgotten and abandoned in this world with no one to take pity on them? I suppose no one person can save them all. But I will do what I can for this one.

****

Cici repeated this routine every day, carefully caring for, feeding and cuddling the baby whenever she had a spare moment. Every morning she would again find the child and her bassinet stashed in the closet. She considered moving the baby into her own room, but she realized that this child had to learn to live with the rejection that would follow her throughout her life. Protecting her from it now could be harmful to her in the long run.

After about a month Cici decided to give the child a name in hopes that the other orphanage workers would stop calling her names like “Monster”, “Ugly”, and “Bad luck”. After considering for several days she began calling her “Candy”. When the other workers heard her referring to the child with this name, they asked her why she had given her such a name. Cici explained that it was because the child had such a sweet disposition. They showed respect for Cici by referring to the baby as Candy when she was present, but when Cici wasn’t there, they continued to treat the child badly and called her the names they had chosen for her.

As Candy grew she became accustomed to the way she was treated. Even the other orphans knew that Candy was worse off than them and they either excluded her from their play or were merciless in making fun of her deformity. Candy learned quickly how unkind the world could be. She also knew where she could go for love and comfort. Cici was her constant refuge in the storm that was her life.

When Cici had come to work at the orphanage she was careful to keep a physical and emotional distance from the children and the people there. But Cici was one of those people whose hearts are made to give love and even in its broken and shattered state, she found that she couldn’t stop her heart from coming to love them all to a certain degree.

But Candy was different. She had such a gentle, quiet spirit that seemed to accept the fate that life had given her. After caring for and protecting Candy for a few years, one day Cici realized that this little girl had gathered up the broken pieces of her shattered heart and had stolen them for herself.

Sacred Secrets

2012

Jake had been drawn to Becka during his junior year in college. They had met working as volunteers in a shelter for homeless youth. They had become part of the same loosely organized circle of friends. Slowly as those friends had gone their separate ways, Jake and Becka had not. They made each other laugh. They liked the same art and the same poetry and the same music. If Becka ever asked Jake a question about his childhood or his family or his life that he wasn’t willing to answer, she never pushed. Jake had discovered that eventually his secrets pushed most people away. He had come to expect and accept that as part of the “deal” of who he was. But Becka was different. His secrets didn’t seem to bother her. She never left.

One quiet afternoon, after they had known each other for about three years, Jake and Becka were kicking back enjoying a lazy day when Jake asked, “Hey, Becks?”

Absorbed in the book she was reading Becka barely replied, “Hmmm?”

“Why don’t you leave?” he asked.

Becka was surprised and looked a little hurt as she answered, “You want me to leave? Why?”

Jake jumped up and said, “NO! No, I don’t want you to leave. I was just wondering why you don’t, when everyone else does. Everyone else always wants me to share my “innermost self”. They don’t like that I have secrets. But you don’t seem to care. Why?”

Becka stared at him for a minute and then said, “Your secrets are yours, Jake. I seem like I don’t care because I don’t care.” Thinking she had adequately answered his question, she went back to her book.

Jake wanted her to clarify, so he asked, “Do you mean you don’t care that I have secrets? Or do you mean you don’t care enough about me to care if I have secrets?”

Becka looked up from her book with her eyes, but she didn’t move her head, she asked, “Are you PMS-ing a little today, Jake? Because you’re talking like a girl.”

Suddenly her eyes got really big. She sat up straight and asked, “That’s not your secret is it? Tell me you aren’t really a girl!”

Jake laughed, “No, Becks, that is definitely not my secret.”

Becka put her hand on her chest dramatically and let out a huge sigh of relief. “Whew, that’s good. No offense, Jake, but you would not make a very attractive girl.”

Jake feigned extreme offense.

Becka continued, “Don’t get me wrong. Those muscles, those hairy legs and those gorgeous eyes, (She used a sweeping motion with her hands to indicate his overall look), over all … you are kind of hot.” Then she smiled mischievously and said, “But that is not such a good look on a girl.”

“Then you prefer me as a man?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrows.

Becka laughed again. She leaned over and kissed Jake on the cheek and whispered, “Yes, Jake, I definitely prefer you as a man. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Jake stopped smiling and said in a serious tone, “I want to share my secrets with you, Becka. I’ve never wanted to do that before. But I’m … scared … I’m … actually … terrified.”

Becka could hear in his voice how serious he was. She asked, “Because you think I’ll run away screaming like my hair is on fire?”

Jake looked at her steadily and said, “Something like that … Ask me something, Becka … anything … I promise I’ll answer.”

Becka said, “No.”

Jake persisted, “Come on, Becks. Ask me something.

Becka was getting a little impatient. “Jake, I meant what I said before. Your secrets are yours. I care about you enough to respect your secrets. If you want to share them with me, that’s fine. But I won’t demand them from you.”

Jake understood and then said, “I appreciate that, Becka. I really do. But I don’t know where to start. I need you to ask me something, anything.”

Becka raised her eyebrows and finally acquiesced and said, “FINE … vanilla or chocolate?”

Jake answered smiling, “Vanilla”

Becka asked, “Blonde or Brunette?”

Jake looked admiringly at Becka’s wavy brown hair and said, “Brunette”

Becka laughed a little and said, “Good answer!”

Becka continued her interrogation, “Boxers or briefs?

Jake was scandalized!

Becka said, “Hey, you said ‘anything’. ”

Jake nodded and said, “Fair enough. I did say that. Okay … boxers.”

Becka made a hilarious face indicating that she was impressed that he had actually answered.

Then Becka decided to get more serious. “Are you an international super spy?

Jake shook his head, “No”

Becka persisted, “Are you a fugitive being hunted by Interpol?”

Jake played along. “No”

Becka continued to guess. “Are you an ax murderer?”

Jake began laughing. “No”

Becka thought for a moment. “Are you a vampire?”

Jake laughed harder. “No, I am definitely not a vampire.”

Becka was running out of ideas. She asked, “Are you a werewolf?”

Jake hesitated for a moment and then said haltingly, “No.”

Becka sat up straight and stared at him and said, “You hesitated. Are you sure you aren’t a werewolf?”

Jake responded with a smile, “No, I am not a werewolf.” Then his smile faded and he asked, “But if I were, Becka… would that be too big? … of a secret? … for you?”

Becka could tell he was serious. She weighed her words carefully. “Jacob Chandler Vincent, you are the kindest, sweetest guy I have ever known. Sometimes it’s like you didn’t even grow up in the same world that I did. You are the very best friend I have ever had. I can’t imagine, in this moment, that you could possibly have a secret big enough for me to throw all that away.”

Jake seemed to change the subject. “I want to take you somewhere, Becks, to show you a place that’s very important to me. Do you have any plans next Saturday?”

Becka said, “No, I don’t have plans. Where are we going?”

Jake shook his head and said, “I can’t tell you. I have to show you. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep. I’m going pick you up at your apartment at 4 am, okay? And wear comfortable shoes. We will be doing a lot of walking.”

Becka was so off balance from the whole conversation that she could only answer, “Okay Jake, I’ll be ready.”

Moment of Truth

The next day Jake went to see his father. Vincent was a little surprised to see him. Jake usually came on the weekends.

“Is something wrong, Jacob?” Vincent asked.

Jake replied, “No, Dad. Nothing’s wrong, but I want to talk to you about my friend Becka.”

Vincent nodded.

Jake continued, “I want to bring her to the tunnels. I want to introduce her to you.”

Vincent was a little worried about the prospect, but he wasn’t surprised. He had observed Jacob over the last few years as his friendship with Rebecka had grown into something more.

Vincent was supportive. “How do you want to do it, Jacob? You can’t just spring me on her.”

Jake nodded and said, “I know. I was thinking I would show her some of my favorite places. Then I would show her our chamber and the painting of you and my mother. If she isn’t too overwhelmed at that point, then I would want her to meet you and some of the others. Would this Saturday be all right?”

Vincent nodded in agreement and said, “That would be fine, Jacob.”

They talked for a while longer and as Jake rose to leave, Vincent said, “I’m glad you’ve found someone … someone special. I’ll let the others know that you will be bringing a guest when you come.”

By Friday Jake was a nervous wreck. Luckily medical school took up so much of his time. Otherwise he might have thought about it too much and chickened out.

When Jake arrived at Becka’s apartment at 4 am on Saturday morning, Becka was ready to go. Jake took her to the Central Park tunnel entrance. The park was eerily quiet at that time in the morning.

Becka remarked in a hushed voice, “I’ve never been to the park at this time of the day before. It’s kind of spooky.”

Jake smiled and nodded. He squeezed her hand and said, “You’ll be fine, Becks. You’re with me.”

As he led her to the tunnel entrance she became nervous. “Jake, what’s going on? Where are we going?” She was not eager to enter.

Jake turned to her and asked, “Do you trust me, Becka?”

“Of course I do,” Becka answered. “But just too clarify … are you sure you’re not a werewolf or an ax murderer?”

Jake smiled and said, “One hundred percent sure. But, Becks, if you want to go back right now, I’ll take you.”

Becka shook her head and said, “No, I don’t want to go back. I trust you, Jake.”

Jake took her into the entrance. He looked around to make sure they were alone. When he was satisfied that they were, he handed her a flashlight, opened the secret door and they stepped through the gate. He turned and closed the sliding door. He turned to Becka and asked, “Still okay?”

Becka nodded.

Closing the door behind him, Jake said, “Before we go any farther, I need to talk to you.”

Becka nodded again.

Jake began, “Becka, where I am taking you today is a secret place. It isn’t just my secret. It’s critically important that it be kept a secret from everyone you know, even your parents. People’s lives depend on it. Do you understand what I mean, Becka?”

Becka began to nod and then she shook her head. “Not really, Jake. I’m not sure what’s happening.”

Jake reached for her hand and they began to walk.

Jake said, “This is where I grew up, Becka. Where I’m taking you today is the community where I spent my entire childhood.”

Becka was quiet. She was still a little nervous, but she trusted Jake. As they went deeper into the tunnels she became more and more amazed by what she was seeing. Jake took her to the mirror pool, and to the places where he and his childhood friends had played hide and seek and the games of his childhood. From time to time Becka could hear the sound of children laughing or music coming from a distant tunnel. She was fascinated by the Chamber of Whispering Winds.

Late in the morning they arrived at the Chamber of the Falls. Vincent had arranged for a basket of food to be left there for them. When Jake saw it there with a note from his father, he laughed.

Up until that moment Becka had been so astounded by what she had seen that she had been very quiet. Jake’s laughter had somehow broken the spell.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

Jake just smiled as he looked at the note and said, “It’s from my dad. He says he hopes we are having a nice day.”

Becka looked at Jake a little askance and asked, “You have a father?”

Jake answered simply, “Yes, I do. Doesn’t everyone?”

Becka said, “But, Jake, you’ve never spoken about him … or any of this … I could never have imagined anything … any place like this … even existed. When you said you wanted to tell me your secrets, I never dreamed …”

Jake was intrigued and asked, “What did you imagine? What did you think the secret was?”

Becka was a little embarrassed to say, but she answered, “I thought you were going to tell me that you were gay.” She smiled sheepishly.

Jake was taken aback and then he laughed out loud and shook his head. “No,” he said, “that is not my secret. I’m definitely not gay.” He chuckled again.

She looked around and shook her head and asked, “Jake, this is all so amazing. Why don’t people know about this place?”

Jake gently took hold of her arm and said, “Becka, you can never tell anyone about this place. People’s lives depend on this place being a secret. Do you understand? I’m not only trusting you with my secrets today, I’m trusting you with the lives of all those who live here, people that I love. The other day you said that sometimes it seems like I didn’t grow up in the same world that you did. You’re right, I didn’t. I grew up here. In this world people treat each other with love and gentle kindness. They accept each other. It’s not like up there. There is no place for hatred or violence here. Many of the people who live here have spirits that are too gentle, too fragile to survive in that world above. If the world up there knew about this one, they would exploit it and destroy it. Then where would these people go? They would be destroyed too. Do you understand what I’m saying, Becka?”

Becka was moved by the passion in Jake’s voice and the amazing beauty she was seeing around her. She looked into Jake’s eyes and said, “I think I understand. Jake, I promise you, I won’t betray your trust. I promise.”

Jake was silent. Becka came closer and slipped her arms around Jake’s waist. With their faces almost nose to nose, she looked into his eyes again and whispered, “I PROMISE, Jake.”

They stood in a close embrace for a moment before they sat and enjoyed their picnic lunch. They sat there for hours while Jake patiently answered all of Becka’s questions and told her about his life in the tunnels and the people who lived there.

When Becka finally stopped asking questions, Jake asked, “Are you ready to see more?”

As they packed up the basket, Becka asked, “How much more is there?”

Jake was thoughtful and said, “I actually don’t know. I’m not sure anyone knows. My father probably knows more about the tunnels than anyone. He and I used to have great adventures when I was a kid. Deep in the tunnels there is a crystal cavern[19] that would take your breath away. It’s too far for us to go there today though.”

As they talked and walked, Jake steered them toward the main living areas of the tunnels. When they crossed paths with any of the people who lived there Jake would introduce Becka to them. A few of the children were excited to see Jake. Finally they arrived at Vincent’s personal chamber.

“This is the chamber that I grew up in. My dad and I shared it. Now he’s got it all to himself again,” Jake said.

“What about your mother?” Where is she?”  Becka asked.

Jake answered, “She’s dead.”

“Oh, Jake! I’m so sorry! I’m such and idiot!” was Becka’s immediate response.

Jake reached out to her and said, “Hey, Becks, it’s okay. You couldn’t have known that. Anyway, she died when I was born. I don’t have any memory of her … really.”

“What do you mean, ‘really’?” Becka asked.

Jake thought for a moment about how to explain it. “When I was little and I would have bad dreams, she would come and sing to me.”

Becka wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. She asked, “Do you mean you dreamed about her singing to you? Or do you mean her … ghost would come and sing to you?”

He nodded, “Her ghost … her spirit … I used to call her ‘my angel’. I’m not the only one who has seen her though. Once in a while other people have caught a glimpse of her here in the tunnels.”

Becka was quiet.

Are you okay, Becka?” Jake asked.

Becka responded slowly, “I think so. I’m just processing it. Is that one of your secrets?”

Jake said, “Actually no, not really a secret. I just don’t talk about it because it’s kind of personal.”

Becka began looking around the room at the eclectic collection of books and things that had accumulated over Vincent’s lifetime. She smiled and looked up at Jake. “It’s kind of like a museum in here. I love it. It must have been a wonderful place for a child to grow up. Did your father read all of these books to you?”

Jake nodded and smiled as he recalled his childhood. “Yes, I can still hear his voice when I read these stories. He made them all come to life for me. The way he reads … it’s like …magic.”

As Becka made her way around the room, she came to a large object that looked like a canvas. It was covered by a large cloth. Becka’s curiosity got the better of her. As she reached to pull the cloth away she hesitated to see if Jake would stop her. He didn’t. As she pulled away the cover, what she saw took her breath away. It was a portrait of Vincent and Catherine, painted a lifetime ago.[20]

Becka exclaimed, “Oh, Jake! This is magnificent! Why is it covered up? It should be hanging in a gallery somewhere, so people can enjoy it!”

Jake was a little nervous to continue. Here it was, the moment of truth. He took a deep breath and tried to speak with a steady voice. “It belongs to my father. It’s very personal to him. It’s the only picture he has of my mother and him together.”

Becka was so enchanted by the painting that she was only half listening to Jake. She replied in a reverent tone. “This is your mother? Oh, Jake, she was beautiful. I think you look a little bit like her.” Then pointing to Vincent she asked, “But who is this supposed to be?”

Jake came close to her and spoke softly as he said, “This is my father, Becka.”

Becka turned to face him and asked, “You mean it’s a conceptualized, fantasy version of your father?”

Jake met her eyes and shook his head. “No, Becka this is my father. This is what he looks like. He’s older now of course, but this is him.”

Becka squinted in disbelief and backed away from Jake a little. “Jake … are you kidding? Is this a joke?”

Jake could feel his stomach doing flips. He shook his head again. “No … it’s not a joke, Becka. I’m totally serious.” He turned toward the entrance of the chamber and said, “It’s okay, Dad. You can come in.”

A reply came from a hooded figure in the doorway. “Are you sure, Jake? I don’t want to frighten her.”

Jake turned to Becka. He could see that her eyes were very wide and she looked quite pale. He asked, “Becka, it’s up to you. Would you like to meet my father? We can leave right now if you want to. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Becka stared at Jake. Then she looked over to Vincent. She could see him beginning to retreat from the chamber entrance. Then she summoned her courage and turning to Jake said, “He can come in, Jake. I do want to meet him.”

Jake then turned to his father and said, “It’s all right, Dad. You can come in.”

Vincent walked in and slowly removed his cloak. He stood across the room from Jake and Becka. He was sure that he was as nervous as Jake was about the encounter. He looked as frightened as Becka did.

Vincent was like any parent. He wanted his son to have a full and happy life. Vincent had always feared that by having him for a father, that it might prevent Jake from fulfilling that wish. So here they were, at a critical moment in all of their lives, standing across from each other. The air felt charged. The room was completely silent. It felt as if the direction of all of their lives hinged on what happened in these next few moments.

Finally Becka slowly approached Vincent. When she reached the other side of the chamber, she looked into Vincent’s eyes. Her eyes filled with tears. Other than that her expression was hard to read. She thrust out her right hand and said, “I’m Rebecka Maxwell. People call me Becka or Becks. It’s nice to meet you, Sir.”

It took a few seconds for Vincent to respond. As they clasped hands it felt like everyone exhaled at the same time. Vincent said, “It’s nice to meet you too, Rebecka. Jake has told me a lot about you.”

Becka just smiled and looked at Jake. Jake took that as a signal and he came to Becka’s side and asked, “Are you okay, Becks?”

Becka was honest as she answered, “I’m not really sure yet. When you said you wanted to share your secrets, Jake … I never imagined …” Turning to Vincent she asked, “Mr. Vincent, can I ask you something?”

Vincent nodded, “You can ask me anything, Rebecka.”

A mischievous look crossed her face almost imperceptibly. “Anything?”  she asked.

He nodded again.

Her look then became very serious and she asked, “Vanilla or chocolate?”[21]

That was definitely not the question Vincent was expecting. At first he didn’t know how to respond and then he began to laugh and said, “Vanilla”.

Becka laughed too. She nodded and said, “Like father, like son. Jake said the same thing. He has your eyes, Mr. Vincent.”

Vincent answered, “You can call me Vincent. No one calls me ‘Mr’.”

“What’s your first name?” Becka asked.

Feeling much more at ease, Vincent said, “That is my first name. I was abandoned as a baby. Someone found me and brought me here. I’ve never really had a need for a last name.”

Becka nodded in understanding.

Then Vincent asked, “This is all probably a little overwhelming. Do you have any more questions?” I’ll answer them if I can. ”

Becka said, “Overwhelming is a good way to describe this whole day.” She suddenly felt very tired.

Jake then asked, “Do you want me to take you home, Becka? It’s getting kind of late anyway.”

Becka nodded. “I am pretty tired. That’s probably a good idea.” Then turning to Vincent she asked, “Vincent, is it all right if I come back another time and ask those questions?”

Vincent said, “You’re welcome to come back here any time, Rebecka.”

She held out her hand again and said, “It was wonderful meeting you, Sir.”

Vincent smiled a little and took her hand and said, “It was wonderful meeting you too.”

As Jake and Becka made their way back to the world above, they were both very quiet. As they came close to the Central Park exit, Jake stopped. He turned to Becka as if he were going to say something and then he hesitated. He wanted to ask her, but he was afraid to.

Becka gave him a quizzical look and finally said, “What?”

At length Jake asked, “Was that … too big? … of a secret? … for you?”

Becka was quiet. She didn’t want to hurt him, so she spoke carefully. “I’m not sure, Jake. It might take me a little while to process all of it.”

Jake nodded. He looked so vulnerable. Just looking at him was breaking her heart. She reached for his hand and quietly asked, “Hey, is my hair on fire?”

Jake smiled a little and said, “No.”

She quietly said, “Well, I guess that’s a good sign anyway.”

She squeezed his hand, came a little closer and said, “Thank you, Jake.”

Jake asked, “What for?”

“For trusting me with … all of that,” she said. “I won’t betray your trust, Jake. I promise.”

They went the rest of the way to Becka’s apartment in silence.

The Dark Before the Dawn

Jake decided it would be best to give Becka some space. He told himself that he didn’t want to pressure her in any way. The truth was that he was afraid he had lost her. As long as she didn’t specifically say that for sure, he was able to hold out a spark of hope. But by the end of two weeks, his hope was wearing thin. Over that time he had had time to think about his relationship with her. He had finally admitted to himself that Becka was more than just a friend. He loved her. Each day that she didn’t call or come to his apartment his heart broke a little more. When the ache became too much for him, Jake headed for the place where he knew he could find solace. He went home to the tunnels.

Vincent discovered Jake sitting in his favorite corner of their chamber curled up with one of their old books.

“Jacob?’ Vincent asked. “I didn’t realize you were here. Do you want to be left alone?”

“No, Dad. Come on in,” Jake answered.

“What are you reading?” Vincent asked.

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” Jake replied.

Vincent nodded knowingly and said, “Oh, I see.”

Jake asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Vincent explained, “When you were a little boy I could always tell the size of your problem by the size of the book you retreated into. That’s a pretty big book you’ve got there. Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake held the book in front of him as if it had betrayed him somehow. “Huh … Dad, you have got to be the smartest person I have ever known. I never even knew that I did that.”

Vincent sat there quietly, patiently waiting.

Jake collapsed back into his chair. His expression was one of discouragement. “I’m in love with her, Dad.”

Vincent nodded and asked, “Rebecka? Is that the problem? You have loved her for a long time. It was never a problem before.”

Jake looked at his father with shock and surprise. “How did you know that? I just figured it out myself!”

Vincent laughed. “You just said I was the smartest person you’ve ever known. I’m still not clear about what the problem is.”

Jake put his head in his hands and said, “I think I’ve lost her, Dad. She hasn’t called or come over for two weeks. Not since the day I brought her here.”

“Did she tell you it’s over? What did she say?” Vincent asked.

Jake said, “I asked her if my secrets were too big for her. She said she wasn’t sure. That she wanted some time to think about it. I haven’t heard from her since.”

Vincent then asked, “Have you tried to speak with her? Did she refuse to see you?”

Jake shook his head, “No and no. I don’t want to put any pressure on her. I don’t want to push.” Jake sighed. “The truth is, that as long as I haven’t heard her actually say it’s over, I can still hold out a little hope…. But I’m starting to lose hope. I feel like I’m dying, Dad. It hurts so much I can’t breathe.”

Vincent sighed heavily and said, “I am familiar with those feelings. I thought Rebecka handled it very well. She might surprise you. If it is over, Jacob, I’m sorry.”

Jake asked, “What are you sorry for? It isn’t your fault.”

Vincent explained, “I have always worried that by having me for your father, it might hold you back from having the happiness, the love that you deserve.”

Jake shook his head, “That isn’t true, Dad. All you have ever done is love me. You have given me so much more than anyone I know. My life has been amazing, because I have you for my father. If she can’t handle it, then I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Vincent nodded, “That is probably true. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less, does it?”

Jake laughed a little, “No, it doesn’t.”

Vincent walked him back to the tunnel entrance. They parted with an embrace and

Vincent said, “Don’t give up on Rebecka just yet, Jacob. I had a good feeling about her.”

“Thanks, Dad for listening … and for everything. I love you,” Jake said.

“I love you too, Jacob,” Vincent replied.

As he watched his son go, he said a silent prayer. He could feel old echoes of the pain of losing a love.

As he returned below he recalled a long ago conversation he had with Father ….

“If only there was some way in which I could keep both of you safe, to shield you both from harm, from pain,” Father had said.

“From life?” Vincent responded.

Father said, “Because I love you, Vincent. I love both of you.”

Vincent had learned a hard lesson. “Even love can wound, Father. The grave is a fine, safe place. But if we live, we bleed,” was his reply.[22]

During the night Vincent woke up, and in the dim light of his room he thought he could see Catherine sitting in the chair across from his bed. He shook his head and blinked his eyes. When he looked again, she was gone.

Sunshine

Jake had found comfort in the tunnels. He appreciated the relationship he had with his father. His father always managed to help him to put things into perspective when life in the world above became too much for him. Whenever he heard his friends complaining about their parent’s failings, Jake was so grateful that God, or fate, or whatever it was, had given such a father as Vincent to him. As far as Jake was concerned, there never was a luckier boy than he had been.

Jake returned to his apartment feeling that whatever happened with Becka, that he would have the strength to face it. His heart was still heavy, but he recognized that it was out of his control.

He fell into a restless sleep. In his dreams, his greatest fears came to the surface. He dreamed that his secrets had been revealed to the world and that he and his father were caught and caged as freaks. Mocked and ridiculed by those he had once thought to be his friends. As he looked around at all of the faces of his tormenters he recognized the face of someone that had haunted his childhood dreams. As a child he had only referred to him as “the bad man”. He didn’t know who it was, but as a child he had been terrified in his dreams by the evil face of this man. And without fail, whenever he had that dream, she had always come … tonight was no different.

Jake cried out. He woke up in a cold sweat. There she was, standing in the corner of his moonlit room; his “angel”. He hadn’t seen her for years. He was mesmerized as he listened to her sing the old familiar lullaby … Sleep, my little one. Rest now, my little one. Close your eyes, the day is nearly done. Rest your head, tomorrow will surely come.

It had been so long since Jake had seen his angel that he had begun to think that she had just been a figment of his childhood imagination. A manifestation of a child’s wish to have a mother. As he watched her standing there he whispered, “Mother?”

At that moment he thought he heard someone pounding on his apartment door. He looked at his clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. When he looked back to his angel, she was gone.

****

Cici woke in the morning with a mild headache. But there were children to teach and things that needed to be done, so she attempted to ignore it. But as the day wore on the ache in her head got steadily worse, until noon when the pain became so intense she was forced to retire to her bed. As the pain medicine began to work, Cici finally found relief when she fell asleep. As Cici slept she found herself standing somewhere the tunnels. Everything was dark but looking around she realized she was in Vincent’s chamber. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw that he was there, sleeping in his bed. She sat in the chair near his bed and just watched him softly breathing. Usually if she saw him in her dreams he was awake and as soon as he discovered her the dream would end. But with Vincent peacefully sleeping, she could come closer. He looked older, but his face was as gentle as it ever had been. Will I ever stop loving him? she wondered.

As she sat there she heard a baby crying. It sounded like her baby she had heard years ago in her dreams. She hadn’t heard her own baby crying in her dreams for several years. As she looked over to Vincent, she saw he was staring at her. Immediately she found herself standing in an unfamiliar room. There in a room, lit only by the moon she saw her child on the bed crying out. Before her eyes the infant changed into a grown man. He sounded as if his heart was breaking. Then he cried out in fear, and she began to sing the old lullaby that she had sung to him in her dreams many times before. She stood there watching him after she stopped singing and he whispered, “Mother?”

Suddenly someone began pounding on a door and Cici woke up.

****

Jake stumbled from his bedroom. As he approached the door he mumbled, “This better be good. Do you have any idea what time it is?” When he looked through the peephole and saw who it was, he opened the door as fast as he could.

They stood there just staring at each other. Finally Becka said, “Dude, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning. Are you just going to let me stand out here in the hall, or are you going to invite me in?”

Jake immediately opened the door wider and let her in. They still stood in awkward silence until Becka said, “I see you were telling me the truth.”

Jake was unclear about what she meant. He squinted his eyes and shook his head.

Becka nodded and pointed at him and said, “Nice boxers…”

Suddenly Jake realized he was standing there in his underwear and he jerked frantically and covered his front with his hands before running out of the room. Then he ran back and yelled, “DON’T …. GO ANYWHERE!!”

He searched around until he found his pants and came back a little out of breath.

He was not sure how to stand without looking incredibly uncomfortable. His heart was beating out of his chest. He was wondering to himself how he was supposed to stand when the woman he loves was about to tell him she never wants to see him again. How could he brace himself when he was about to have his heart broken?

Becka finally spoke. “No,” was all she said.

Jake nodded. He looked a little crestfallen and then he looked a little confused. He asked, “Wait … No? ... I’m not sure … ‘No’ what?”

Becka said, “It’s the answer … to your question.”

Jake was still confused. He repeated, “… to my question?”

Becka looked a little impatient. “No offense, Jake, but you’re kind of stupid first thing in the morning.”

Jake observed sarcastically, “Uuhm … may I point out that it is not ‘morning’, Becka. It’s the middle of the night. Morning is generally accompanied by little rays of sunlight.”

A little exasperated, Becka said, “It’s the answer to your question, Jake. You asked me if your secrets were too big for me. The answer is No.”

Jake nodded again. “Oh …. It’s No?” He was still trying to understand what she was saying.

Becka then blurted out, “I’m in love with you, Jake Vincent. Is that going to be a problem?”

As Becka’s words began to sink in, Jake could see that Becka looked as terrible as he felt. As he looked even closer he could see that she had tears in her eyes. Jake began to shake his head. He stepped closer to her and wiped away one of her tears with his thumb and whispered, “No, Becka, that won’t be a problem at all.” He leaned forward so that his forehead was pressed against hers. His eyes were closed, but tears were rolling down his cheeks.

Becka was not sure what to do. She put her hands on his waist. “Jake? What’s wrong?”

Jake answered, “I thought I’d lost you, Becka. I love you too.” He pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and held her like he was afraid to let her go. Then he said, “Tell me you are not a dream. I will be so upset if this is just a dream.”

“Why would you think I was a dream?” Becka asked.

Jake replied, “I was having this terrible dream. I must have cried out in my sleep. When I woke up she was standing there. I haven’t seen her in years. And then you were knocking on the door. I wasn’t really clear on just when the dream ended and when I woke up.”

Becka asked, “You’re babbling a little, Jake. Who was standing there?”

Jake said, “My angel, my mother. And then you were here. Just tell me this is real.”

Becka smiled, “I promise. I am real. It’s not a dream, Jake.” She ran her hand through his hair and laughed softly. She kissed him and asked, “Does that seem real?”

Jake shook his head and said mischievously, “I don’t know, maybe we should do that again, just to be sure,” as he kissed her back.

Becka laughed again and said, “You are adorable with bed head by the way.”

Jake looked at her, smiling enigmatically.

“What?” Becka asked.

“I guess you were right. It is morning after all,” Jake said.

Becka wasn’t sure what he meant. She looked out the window and said, “But it’s still dark, Jake.”

Still looking at her, Jake said, “You brought it with you, Becka. You’re the ray of sunlight.”

Becka chuckled and began singing softly, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray…”

Jake laughed and sang along, “You’ll never know dear how much I love you…”

And together they finished, “Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

A Chance Meeting?

April 10, 2014

Cici was shocked to see so many people in the waiting room. She hated crowds, and this one really worried her. Operation Smile only came to Chiang Mai, Thailand once a year. She was amazed at how many people, how many children were desperately hoping for the surgery that would change their lives. Plastic surgery for cleft lip and cleft palate might not be considered “lifesaving” surgery for many. But in this culture a deformity like a cleft palate or a cleft lip ensures a bleak and hopeless future for those afflicted with it.

Cici had come with Candy from the orphanage, in hopes that her English skills and possibly just by being an American she could help Candy get the surgery she so desperately needed. They had come to Chiang Mai the night before. There were more people than Candy had ever seen before. For Candy it was the adventure of a lifetime and incredibly frightening at the same time.

Candy had no memory of anything but the orphanage. She was abandoned there by her young mother shortly after her birth. She was terrified of strangers. The few encounters she had had with strangers in her short 5 years had taught her to fear them. She knew she was different. She was shunned and sometimes tormented even by the other children in the orphanage.  Most of the adults at the orphanage shunned her as well. Cici was different though. Cici always treated Candy with gentle kindness. She spoke to Candy softly as she would wipe away her tears and tell her that she was beautiful. Cici was a safe shelter for Candy in the storm of her young life. She couldn’t have loved a mother any more that she loved Cici.

A wave of fear enveloped them both as they entered the hospital waiting area. Cici reassuringly squeezed Candy’s hand and kissed her cheek as she said a silent prayer, just in case someone in the universe was listening.

It wasn’t long before she spotted him. A young fresh faced American doctor making his way toward them. He was tall, with broad shoulders and unkept dark blonde hair. He was methodically and carefully examining each child. A stern efficient nurse was translating and taking notes by his side. When he reached them, Cici could see that he had clear, piercing blue eyes. Eyes that looked oddly familiar.

He looked puzzled as he offered his hand and introduced himself, “I’m Doc Jake. Are you American? Do you speak English?”

She took his hand and replied, “Yes, I am American. I’m Cici.”

As they shook hands a shock ran through them both. They squinted at each other and simultaneously asked, “Do I know you?”

They both laughed for a moment and agreed that they couldn’t possibly know each other.

“Are you sure you’re a doctor?” Cici asked. “You don’t look old enough to be a doctor.” She was clearly skeptical.

Doc Jake smiled warmly. “You’re right. Actually I am a 4th year med student, but don’t worry, I won’t be doing the surgery. They call me Doc Jake here. You can just call me Jake”

As he spoke Cici spotted a crystal hanging by a chain around his neck and a long buried memory unexpectedly washed over her[23] . She shook her head to banish the thoughts rushing forward. Stay in the present, Cici, she thought to herself, You need to make sure Candy gets the surgery she needs.

Jake was asking her questions.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question?” Cici asked

“What’s your relationship to this child?  Are her parents with you?” Jake asked.

Cici readily answered, “This is Candy. She doesn’t have parents. She’s an orphan. I’m her guardian. She lives at the orphanage where I work. Does it matter? Can she still have the surgery?”

“Don’t worry Cici. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” Jake wasn’t actually sure.

“Why are you the one who came with her? Don’t take this wrong, but you kind of stand out in the crowd,” he continued.

“Candy is very attached to me. She wouldn’t be comfortable traveling away from the orphanage with anyone else.”

Jake then turned his attention to Candy. He spoke gently to her, but she was obviously terrified as he tried to remove the scarf covering her face to have a look. Candy shrank back from him and began to cry. She was clinging so tightly to Cici’s neck that Cici could barely breathe. Cici softly whispered something in Candy’s ear that Jake couldn’t understand. Candy immediately relaxed and the examination continued.

“What did you say to her to calm her down?” Jake asked.

Cici said, “I just told her that you are our friend and that you’re going to fix her face.”

“You shouldn’t have told her that. We don’t take everyone. What if we have to turn her away?” Jake was obviously concerned.

“I don’t believe you will,” Cici stubbornly replied. “But if you do, I hope you are willing to tell her yourself. Candy has been rejected by pretty much everyone, except for me, since the day she was born. She’s a tough little kid, but I don’t want to be the one to tell her if she can’t have this surgery.” Then Cici smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Doc Jake, I have a good feeling about it. Candy won’t be turned away.”

Cici was right, they were not turned away. Something about Candy (as well as Cici) tugged at Jake’s heart. Doc Jake couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the woman from somewhere….

Angels After Midnight

April 12, 2014   1:00 am

Candy’s surgery went well. But she was small and the hospital was a frightening place for a 5 year old girl, especially at night in the dark. As her pain meds began to wear off, she woke up frightened and disoriented. When she cried out, Cici was close at hand. Crying in Cici’s arms, Candy found comfort from Cici’s soft reassuring whispers. Softly Cici began to sing to her … Sleep my pretty one. Rest now my pretty one. Close your eyes the day is nearly done. Rest your head, tomorrow will surely come …[24]

****

The graveyard shift was quiet. It was a perfect opportunity for Doc Jake to take the time to wrap up some unfinished paper work. From somewhere in the ward he thought he heard the strains of a half forgotten lullaby. He went to investigate. He was sure he had only ever heard that tune in his childhood dreams. Following the strains of music, he discovered Cici at Candy’s bedside softly singing and stroking the little girl’s hair. Doc Jake froze in his tracks. In the subdued light of the darkened room He was almost convinced that he was looking at ……… his angel? The angel that had watched over him since his earliest memories … He shook his head vigorously…that was impossible!

As Cici looked up she saw Doc Jake watching them. “I’m sorry, Dr., did my singing disturb you?” Then noting the strange look on his face she asked, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Is my singing that bad?”

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” Jake said, shaking his head and coming back to himself. “Is she having trouble sleeping?” he asked.

“I think her pain medication has worn off. She’s frightened in a strange place,” Cici replied.

Looking at Candy’s chart he said, “I think we can take care of that.” Doc Jake went and found a nurse and soon Candy was resting comfortably.

Cici found a couch outside of Candy’s room. She wanted to stay close in case her little charge needed her.

As Doc Jake finished his paperwork, he came down the hall toward Cici. He was intrigued by her. Not in a romantic way of course. After all she was probably old enough to be his mother. But he was curious and he felt oddly drawn to her.

“Do you mind if I keep you company?” he asked her.

“I don’t want to keep you from your work or anything,” Cici said.

“Oh …uh … no. I’m finished with my paperwork and my shift doesn’t end until 5 am,” Jake answered.

She motioned for him to sit down.

“So tell me, Cici, how long have you worked at the orphanage?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know - twenty, twenty five years. I’ve kind of lost track.” Cici didn’t really like talking about herself.

“What made you choose this as your life’s work?” Doc Jake asked.

When he saw a shadow cross Cici’s face he immediately apologized. “Hey, I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m a little too nosy.”

“No. No. It’s fine. It’s just that I’m not really used to talking about myself,” she replied.

She continued, “When I was younger, I found myself aimlessly wandering the world. I guess I was searching for something.” Cici was vague about her history. She didn’t want to come any closer to the truth than that for several reasons. But as she spoke, she told Doc Jake about how she had discovered Thanit and Noi at the bus shelter all those years ago and how it had given her aimless life a purpose.

“How can people be that cruel, to just abandon their own family like that? Who could just throw away helpless children?” He just couldn’t understand.

Cici tried to explain. “The Thai people are very kind and gentle hearted people.”

“How can you say that, after what you just told me?” Doc Jake interrupted.

“They are complicated, Jake, just like everyone else in the world. As I was saying… The Thai people are very kind, gentle hearted people. But they are also very superstitious. Many Thai people believe that if a child is orphaned, like the children who live at our home, it must be because in a past life they did something terribly wrong. As a result of that “wrong” they are being punished in this life. If a Thai person were to interfere with that punishment, by giving these children a home, then they might bring that very punishment, that bad luck, upon themselves and their own family. It’s a risk that most Thai people will never take. As a result most of the children who come to our home never find a family. A few lucky ones are adopted by foreigners. But for children like Candy, it’s not likely that she will ever be adopted. Many grow up and become prostitutes or beggars and then their children end up in a home like ours, or worse. We try to educate them enough to find jobs as housekeepers or nannies, taxi drivers, sewing ladies… anything that might help them stop the cycle.”

Jake asked, “How can you stand it? To see such suffering and hopelessness every day?”

Cici patiently replied, “You see suffering, Jake. These children have never known anything different. Even in their poverty, they manage to find a reason to smile, to laugh. And they have such beautiful smiles. I see the joy they find in the simplest things. Things most of us take for granted. I sometimes wonder if there isn’t some priceless treasure to be found even in suffering?”

“Oh man. That sounds like something my father would say,” Jake said.

Cici smiled and laughed softly. “He sounds like a wise man.”

Jake laughed a little too. Raising his eyebrows a little he wryly said, “The older I get the smarter my father becomes, to borrow from Twain.”

Cici continued, “Jake? Do you think you can ever really know how blessed you are if you have never suffered? How many of us never truly value the ‘treasures’ in our own lives before we’ve lost them forever?” She had a wistful, faraway look in her eyes. “I’ve learned the hard way, Jake, to cherish the moments and the gifts I am given, however small. You never know when they will all be gone. And when they are gone, all you can do is treasure the bitter sweetness of the memories and keep reminding yourself that even the darkest nights eventually end. Sooner or later the sun will rise again. I still believe that.”

Jake could see tears glistening in her eyes as she spoke. But she didn’t let them fall. He could sense that this woman must have experienced her own “dark night” He asked, “What do you do until then, Cici? What do you do until the darkness ends?”

Smiling softly Catherine answered almost in a whisper, “You light a candle, Jake. You light a candle, and hold on tight to the shattered pieces your dreams.”

Jake then quoted, “In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife![25] ”

Clearly impressed Cici responded, “Hmmmmm, LONGFELLOW. I am impressed. They teach that in medical school these days?”

Jake laughed and shook his head. “No, that’s my father’s influence. He’s always loved to read poetry to me. I guess I loved it too.”

Catherine became quiet then, lost in a swirl of old emotions and distant memories. She took a deep breath as a long forgotten memory flashed in her mind. She could see Vincent’s face as he said, “You are remarkable[26] .”

….Jake was quiet for a moment too and then he said, “What you do … you are remarkable.”

At that, Cici shook her head and came to herself again. She thought for a second that she was looking at Vincent, and the Jake’s face came into focus.

“Are you okay, Cici?” Jake asked.

She smiled and said, “I guess I’m more tired than I thought. Just then, you reminded me of someone I used to know a very long time ago. Your eyes are very like his. He had a big heart like yours too.”

Jake blushed a little. “That’s funny, a little while ago you reminded me of someone too.”

“Really? Who?” Cici asked.

Jake was reluctant to answer. “Uh… if I tell you, you’ll laugh.”

“Cross my heart, Jake. I won’t laugh,” she promised.

Then Jake confided, “When I was a little boy, I had an angel. She would come to me when I had bad dreams and she would sing to me.”

“Why would I laugh at that? It’s very sweet.” She winked and smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s angel before.”

Jake shook his head and said, “Oh, I think there is a little girl in the next room that would disagree with you.”

Cici was embarrassed and felt herself blushing.

“Hey, Cici, I know this is a weird thing to ask, but would you mind if I gave you something?” Jake asked.

Cici was a little surprised, “What?”

Jake removed a chain that was around his neck. Hanging from it was a beautiful, clear crystal. He held it out to her.

Cici was speechless. Then she said, “Oh …hey … Jake, that looks like a keepsake. I don’t think…” She shook her head and pushed back a memory of another crystal that was a gift long ago.

Jake interrupted her, “It is.” He nodded. “It belonged to my mother. When my Dad gave it to me, he said that someday I would meet someone that reminded me of her, and that when I did, I should give it to her.”

Cici was a little taken aback. She didn’t want to hurt him, so she tried to explain gently. “Listen … Doc Jake … I think your Father probably meant someone more …. Uh … your age … I’m old … and you don’t even know me. That is something that should probably stay in your family.”

“I know that,” Jake agreed, nodding. “But I think if my Father met you, he would agree with me. I really feel like I need to give it to you.”

Cici could see that Jake was not going to change his mind so she thought of a compromise. She pulled a chain from around her neck with a carved mother of pearl rose hanging from it and held it out to him. “How about a trade?”

Jake was reluctant. “Hey, that looks like a keepsake too.”

Cici shook her head. “No, not really. I found it in a little shop several years ago. At the time it reminded me of … people that have blessed my life that are gone now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Cici nodded, “Positive.” And then they sealed the deal.

“Thank you, Jake. I’ll treasure it.” She was sure he had no idea how much she would treasure it. It looked exactly like the crystal Vincent had given her all those years ago. She had lost it. As she put it on she felt a spark of something deep inside. Something she had thought was gone forever… almost unconsciously she grasped the crystal in her hand. She could hear the echo of Vincent’s voice saying, “It reminds me of a piece of eternity[27] .”

Just then a nurse came toward them from down the hall. “Excuse me, Doctor Vincent? I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need your signature on this paperwork before your shift ends.”

Jake was surprised as he looked at his watch. “Oh my gosh! Look how long we’ve been talking.” Turning to Cici, he said, “You better try to get a little sleep before Candy wakes up.”

Cici felt a shock run through her. The name “Vincent” had caught her attention. As the nurse walked away she asked, “I’m confused. That nurse called you Doctor Vincent. I thought you were Doctor Jake?”

“Oh… yeah….Sorry for the confusion. Let me formally introduce myself.” Jake straightened up, extended his right hand and said, “Jacob Chandler Vincent at your service.” At this he made a mock flourish with his hand and bowed slightly. “They just call me Doc Jake. I guess it’s kind of stuck.”

The blood had drained from Cici’s face. She drew in her breath and thought, it couldn’t possibly be…. It has to be a fluke… What are the chances that someone could be named …?

“Are you okay, Cici?” Jake asked.

Trying to regain her composure she managed a shaky smile and said, “That sounds like an auspicious name. Does it have any special significance?”

“Yes, I suppose it does.” Jake continued, “I’m named Jacob for my grandfather, Chandler for my mother and Vincent for my father.”

Cici tried hard to maintain her composure, but her heart felt like it was pounding out of her chest. Still thinking it must be a coincidence she remarked as casually as she could manage, “Chandler, for your mother? That doesn’t really sound much like a woman’s name?”

Jake laughed. “You are very astute. My father didn’t think that Catherine would suit me very well, so he used my mother’s maiden name.”

His mother’s name was Catherine Chandler!?!? Cici started to sway a little. Jake reached out and stabilized her. He said, “Hey, Cici, I think you really need to get some rest. Candy is going to need you to have your strength to take her home today. You seem a little wobbly.”

Cici managed a weak smile and put her hand to her head. “I guess I am more tired than I thought. You have a point there.”

Jake guided her over to the couch and said, “I think I will try to get some sleep too. I have another shift in four hours. I’ll try to get back here to check on Candy when I get back, okay?”

Cici nodded in a haze. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was spinning in every direction. As Jake walked away Cici lay there staring at the ceiling in disbelief. She held both hands tightly to her head as if to control the thoughts and emotions that were colliding within. This can’t be happening, she thought. Could it really be him? What are the chances, in a world of 7 billion people that my son would be here? It can’t possibly be him. What about the crystal? It looks just like the one I lost, the one Vincent gave to me. And he has Vincent’s eyes. Does he realize? I don’t think so. What would he do if he knew who I really am? He couldn’t possibly understand. He can’t find out. It would cause him so much pain  ...

Despite her agitation Cici was so exhausted that she fell into a fitful sleep. It was anything but restful. Soon she found herself in the tunnels in Vincent’s old chamber. She was pacing back and forth. This was the first time in 25 years that Cici did NOT want her dreams to bring her here. She tried to wake up, but she couldn’t. She moved to leave Vincent’s room, but as she was nearing the entry way…..

****

Vincent was having trouble occupying his mind. He was always restless when Jacob was on one of his medical trips. He didn’t like being so far apart from the people he loved, especially his son. Jacob would be home in a few days and Vincent could hardly wait. He knew he should let Jacob have the space he needed to make his way in the world. But he liked to be near enough to help if he should need him. For some reason this trip was harder than normal. For the last couple of days Vincent had been having feelings he didn’t understand. Odd moments when it felt as if an electric shock was running through him, and then it would pass.

Tonight as he walked alone through the tunnels he suddenly felt it even stronger. His head began to spin and he had to reach out for the tunnel wall to get his balance. He felt panic and fear and intense pain in his head all at the same time. He made his way back to his chamber so he could lie down and as he entered the room, to his shock, he came face to face with …. CATHERINE … or rather… Catherine’s ghost….

In the past Vincent had only seen her for brief moments before she would disappear. This time was different. They both froze as they stared at each other. She put her hands to her head as if she was in pain and slowly shook her head as she slowly backed away. She was saying something but he couldn’t hear her. It looked like she was saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….” Over and over. She finally backed up enough that she just disappeared into the chamber wall.

Vincent stood there frozen for several seconds. He felt very tired and managed to sit down. What had he just seen? What did it mean? Why was Catherine sorry? Was something wrong with Jacob? When Vincent had regained his composure he sought out Father. He needed to talk to him to bring his emotions under control.

****

…. Cici woke up with a shocking start as if she was coming up out of the water gasping for breath. Her heart was racing and her head was pounding. She was still holding her head and trying to control the pain of a splitting headache and the feeling of panic that had overcome her. She was used to having a tight hold on her emotions. This feeling of losing control was frightening to her. She grabbed her backpack and went to take a shower.

Cici stood in the shower for a long time. The cool water was refreshing and helped her calm down. She decided that she needed to get away from the hospital as soon as she could. She had to put distance between herself and Jake. And she needed to do it before she did or said something that would betray her secret.

It was still early in the morning and the hospital was quiet. While Candy slept, Cici tried to sort out her thoughts by writing in the journal she always carried with her.

April 12, 2014

Dearest Vincent,

27 years ago today. Twenty seven years since you came into my life and changed me forever. How oddly appropriate that on this day, of all days, I would meet our son, Jacob Chandler Vincent. He is more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. What a wonderful job you have done, Vincent, in raising him. He has your amazing, gentle eyes and he has your heart. He is a good man, so much like you.

I was shaken and afraid when I realized just who he was. How I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him how much I love him, have always loved him, and how proud I am of the man he has become. But as always, I know that he can never, never know who I am. I can’t imagine the pain it would cause him to know that I deserted him. Could he ever understand? Could he ever forgive?

After this morning the danger will pass and we will both go back to our separate “worlds”. But I will be forever grateful for the gift I have been given today. I never imagined that in a world of 7 billion people that I would meet our son by chance in this far flung corner of the world. Albert Schweitzer once said that “Coincidence is the pseudonym dear God chooses when he wants to remain incognito.” If that is true, then I have God to thank for giving me such a wonderful, if bittersweet, gift today. I feel like my heart is full and breaking at the same time.

To both of you all a can say is… I love you, I love you, I love you and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Forever and Always, Catherine

Bittersweet Parting

Cici laid down the book as she turned her attention to Candy who had awakened and needed her attention. Candy was due to be released from the hospital as soon as she was cleared by the surgeon. Cici was busy getting Candy ready so they could exit the hospital as quickly as possible. She gave Candy a quick sponge bath and carefully brushed and braided the little girl’s hair. She was hoping to get away before she had another encounter with Doc Jake. In her haste she failed to notice that her journal had slipped beneath the folds in the bedding.

As Cici helped Candy dress they chatted sweetly with each other in Thai.

“เรากำลังจะกลับบ้านตอนนี้กรุ๊ป. Are we going home now, Cici?” Candy asked.

“ใช่ลูกอมเรามีกำลังจะกลับบ้าน. Yes, Candy, we are going home,” Cici answered.

“บนรถไฟได้หรือไม่? On the train?” asked her little charge.

“ใช่บนรถไฟที่ลูกอม. Yes, on the train, Candy,” said Cici

Looking around her, Candy asked, “สถานที่ซึ่งครอบคลุมที่ใบหน้าของฉัน ผมไม่เห็นว่ามัน. Where is the covering for my face? I don’t see it.”

Cici could hear the fear rising in Candy’s voice. “คุณไม่จำเป็นต้องครอบคลุมในวันนี้ คุณจะไม่จำเป็นต้องเป็นอีกต่อไป You don’t need the covering today. You won’t need it anymore.” Cici tried to reassure her.

As Candy began to cry, Cici took the little girls face in her hands and said, “คุณมีลูกอมที่สวยงาม. คุณไม่จำเป็นต้องใช้ในการซ่อนใบหน้าของคุณอีกต่อไป Candy, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. You never need to hide your face ever again.”

Cici had always told Candy she was beautiful. But even at her tender age, Candy knew that the rest of the world didn’t see the “beauty” that Cici saw. Then she said as if her heart would break, “คุณมักจะบอกว่าลูกอมที่สวยงาม แต่ลูกอมมีความสวยงามไม่ได้ ลูกอมขี้เหร่ You always say Candy is beautiful. But Candy is not beautiful! Candy is ugly!”

Candy tried to stop crying, but the tears kept silently rolling down her tiny face while her little chin quivered.

“การเข้าพักที่นี่ ผมจะได้กลับไป Stay right here. I will be right back,” Cici said as she ran from the room.

In a moment Cici returned with a hand mirror and handed it to Candy. Candy didn’t want to look. She knew all too well what she looked like. She hated looking at herself in the mirror.

As the surgeon and Doc Jake entered the room they heard Cici coaxing Candy to look in the mirror. Candy’s eyes got very big as she looked at her new smile for the first time. The little girl was speechless.

After a long silence Candy finally spoke in a disbelieving tone, “เป็นเรื่องจริง ลูกอมของที่สวยงาม   It’s true? Candy is beautiful?”

She dropped the mirror and threw herself into Cici’s arms, squeezing her tightly. What a sight they made, the two of them laughing and hugging.

Cici froze when she saw the two doctors. She had no choice now but to try and maintain her composure until they could leave the hospital.

The surgeon seemed pleased with the results of the surgery. He gave Cici specific post op instructions and explained that Candy would need additional surgery in the coming years. Cici agreed to bring her back in the following year when Operation Smile returned. The doctor signed the release papers and they were free to go. Doc Jake stayed behind to talk to Candy. Candy was very shy and still clung to Cici.

Cici whispered into Candy’s ear, “คุณสามารถบอกว่าขอขอบคุณที่คุณให้หมอปิติสำหรับยิ้มใหม่ของคุณ” “Can you say Thank you to Doc Jake for your new smile?”

Candy respectfully turned to Doc Jake and waid (pronounced-wide) very low as she spoke softly in Thai, “ขอขอบคุณที่คุณเป็นอย่างมากสำหรับยิ้มใหม่ของฉัน” “Thank you very much for my new smile”

Doctor Jake went down to her at eye level and said, “You are very welcome, Candy.”

Looking toward Cici he asked, “Do you think she would let me give her a hug?”

Cici came down to their level too and asked Candy, “คุณสามารถช่วยให้ doc ปิติกอดและจูบ Can you give Doctor Jake a hug and a kiss?”

At this Candy hid her face in Cici’s neck.

Jake laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of butterscotch candy. “I have a sweet for a very sweet little girl.” He held it out to Candy. Candy put it in her mouth and smiled. She then reached up and put her little arms around Jake’s neck and kissed him sweetly on the cheek and whispered in his ear in her best English, “Sank you bery much, Khun Doc Jake, for you to be my friend.”

Cici was having a little trouble holding back her tears at this point. She had experienced wide range of emotions in the last several hours. She held out her slightly shaking hand to Doc Jake and said, “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for her.”

Doc Jake said, “I really didn’t do that much.”

“Yes you did,” Cici insisted.“You were kind to a frightened little girl. She hasn’t seen very much of that in her short life. She was doomed to a life in the dark, Jake. You, all of you here, have lit a candle for her.”

Jake just blushed a little and tried his best to wai to Cici.

“Well, I guess this is it. It’s been wonderful meeting you, Doctor Jake. Have a safe trip home.” She held her hand out to him. She wanted so badly to pull him into her arms and embrace her son for the first time in his life (for the first time in her life), but she knew that couldn’t happen. As they shook hands stiffly she felt a surge of emotion well up within her. Cici knew she needed to get away quickly before she lost complete control.

Dream Train

As the Tuk Tuk[28] pulled away from the hospital Cici breathed a sigh of relief. It was all she could do to maintain her composure during their last encounter. As the train pulled out of the station Candy fell asleep on Cici’s lap. Cici watched the countryside slip passed, putting distance between her and her son. She let the tears quietly flow down her cheeks as she absent mindedly held the crystal that hung around her neck.

She sat there like that for quite some time and then she thought she heard an old familiar voice clearly say “Catherine? She inhaled deeply as she turned to see who was there, but she was still alone. She must have imagined it, but it brought her enough to herself to realize that it wasn’t a good idea for her to give in to her emotions like that. Wiping her tears she scolded herself, “Get a grip Catherine.” And after several deep breaths she was able to get it under control. She was looking forward to getting back to the orphanage and taking a long nap.

An hour later, as the train neared the station, Cici woke from a light sleep. Candy was quietly drawing a picture on some paper that she had fished out of Cici’s backpack. Looking closely Cici could see that it was a picture of Candy holding hands with Doc Jake and Cici. They were surrounded by hearts and sunshine and flowers. Cici smiled and then she realized the rest of the contents of her backpack had been strewn on and under the seat. Cici quickly gathered everything up and put it back in the bag as the train pulled into the station. It would be good for Cici to get back to her regular routine. She needed to keep busy so she could forget.

It wasn’t until hours later when she had unpacked and had a quiet moment that she decided to write a little in her journal and she realized she hadn’t seen it when she unpacked. She went to the backpack to see if she had left it there.

Where is it? she wondered. Reflecting on the day, she realized she must have left it on the train when she packed things up in a hurry. She sunk down on the edge of the bed when she realized that it was lost forever. She had carried that journal with her everywhere she had gone for the last 25 years. She didn’t write in it often, but it contained all her deepest thoughts, her dreams and her sorrows. She felt as if she had lost a most cherished and treasured friend. It was the last link she had to her past and who she really was…

****

After the shocking encounter with Catherine in his chamber, Vincent, spent several hours worrying about what it all meant. He finally fell into an uneasy sleep. It wasn’t long before he began to dream that he was looking out of a window with the view outside quickly passing by. As he looked away from the window he saw a woman across from him, looking out the same window, without really seeing. Tears were streaming silently down her face. She looked as if her heart was breaking. She had one hand resting softly on the head of a small sleeping child and one hand holding a pendant that hung around her neck. She reached up to wipe her tears and momentarily let go of the necklace. It was long enough for Vincent to see that the pendant was a crystal. It sparkled in the sunlight. He could see that it was the crystal that he had given to Catherine so many years ago. He looked more closely at the woman’s face and was shocked to see that it was Catherine, but she was much older than the Catherine he remembered. Looking even closer he could see a distinct scar near her left ear[29] . In disbelief he said her name, “Catherine?” He saw her turn her head quickly toward him, as if she had actually heard him call her name, but he could tell that she couldn’t see him. As he watched, she wiped her tears and took several deep breaths. And then he woke up in his chamber.

An Honest Mistake

As the nurse was gathering up the sheets from the beds of discharged patients, she found Cici’s forgotten journal. An old leather bound book that had slipped beneath the covers of one of the beds. She opened it to look for some identification. Written on the inside cover was the name “Vincent”. The nurse assumed that it must belong to Dr. Vincent, so she took it to the nurse’s station.

Later as the doctors and volunteers from Operation Smile were gathering at the front of the hospital with their luggage, the nurse remembered her find. She ran back to the nurse’s station and retrieved the book. As Jake was getting into the songtau[30] the nurse called out his name. “Doctor Vincent, you forgot your book.”

Jake was preoccupied and said, “Oh thank you! Can you put it in my back pack over there? It’s the red one with green bandana tied to it.”

She quickly found the backpack and stuffed it inside just as the taxi driver was loading the luggage into the truck.

Jake had been on several of these Operation Smile trips before. But there was something different about this one. As they headed for the airport Jake couldn’t get the image of Cici and Candy out of his mind. He felt that even though this trip had been no different than many others, somehow Cici and Candy had stolen a little piece of his heart.

Words of a Broken Heart

April 13, 2014

As the plane was coming into JFK International Airport Jake couldn’t stop looking out the window. As if he could spot that one person he knew was waiting for him on the ground if he just looked close enough. Or that perhaps by looking steadfastly at the ground he could somehow make the plane land sooner. By the time he retrieved his luggage and made his way through passport control and customs he was on pins and needles.

As he came out into the meeting area of the airport, he heard Becka calling his name before he spotted her. Before he knew it, she was in his arms. They both laughed and he took a deep breath and drank in her sweetness. Jake had grown up hearing about the great love story of his parents. But Jake had never imagined he could ever love someone the way he loved Becka. The wedding was in two weeks and for both of them it wasn’t soon enough. Becka couldn’t stop talking as they drove to Jake’s apartment. It might irritate some people, especially right after a 22 hour plane trip. But to Jake it was the sweetest of music.

As he listened to Becka, he recalled Cici’s words, “How many of us never truly value the ‘treasures’ in our own lives before we’ve lost them forever? …I’ve learned to cherish the moments and the gifts I am given.”

“Hey, Jake ... Where are you?” asked Becka. “You have the cutest look on your face.”

Jake laughed softly. “I was just enjoying the sound of your voice and trying to cherish this moment. Do you know how much I love you, Becks?”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I love you too, Jake.”

When Jake didn’t reply she glanced over and could see that he was asleep. She smiled. He always came back from these trips completely exhausted. He seemed a little bit different this time. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Becka helped Jake get his things up to his apartment and then left him to sleep. She wanted so badly to spend time with him, but she could see how tired he was.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, ‘kay? Now get some sleep. You look like a zombie.” She gave him a quick hug and a kiss and left him sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jake didn’t want to let her go, but he knew she was right. He could barely stand on his feet. He sat on his bed and didn’t even get both shoes off before he was unconscious.

Becka made him a sandwich and left it wrapped in the fridge and then decided to unpack his luggage while he slept. She knew he would sleep for hours, but she wanted to be near him for a little while. As she unpacked his backpack she found Cici’s journal and assumed it was one of Jake’s old books. She put it on his book shelf with all of his other old books. She went into the bedroom to look at him one more time, kissed him on the forehead and then quietly slipped out of Jake’s apartment.

Jake was so tired that he slept a dreamless sleep for several hours. Then just before he woke up he thought he felt two little arms hug him tightly around the neck as he heard a sweet little voice say, “Sank you bery much, Khun Doc Jake, for you to be my friend.” And then he thought he heard Cici saying, “You light a candle, Jake. You light a candle.”

Jake woke with a start and realized he had been sleeping for a long time. Reaching for his cell phone he saw that it was just past midnight. Knowing that with jet lag he was probably finished sleeping for the night, he decided to go see his dad.

Jake wasn’t surprised to see his father approaching as he neared the living areas in the tunnels. After all these years he knew his father often had a sense when he was near. For the longest time he thought everyone had that kind of connection with their parents. As he grew he realized that his relationship with his father was unique in many ways. They greeted each other with a big bear hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Jacob! I missed you,” Vincent said.

“You always say that, Dad,” Jake laughed.

Vincent considered Jacob’s reply and said, “I guess you’re right. But for some reason, I really missed you this time. Did everything go well?”

“Sure, Dad, everything went fine. Why do you ask?” Jake countered.

“I don’t know. I’ve been restless the last few days and I had some very strange dreams. I was worried,” Vincent confided.

As they settled down for a visit in Vincent’s chamber, Jake felt the comfort of his old home.

“So tell me about Thailand?” Vincent asked.

“Well, the little I saw was beautiful. I spent most of my time at the hospital. There wasn’t really much time for sightseeing.” Jake laughed a little. “I wanted to get back as soon as possible so I could help Becka with the wedding. The truth is I will probably just get in her way.”

“I’m so glad that you’ve found someone special, Jacob. I used to worry that having me for your father would hold you back,” Vincent said.

Jake understood. He and Becka had known each other a long time before he had trusted her with the truth about his life and lineage and before he brought her to the tunnels to introduce her to his father.

Jake said, “I’m not ashamed of who we are, Dad. You know that don’t you? I just want to keep you safe.”

Vincent replied, “Yes, I know that.”

As he looked at Jacob he realized he was wearing a rose pendant where his mother’s crystal used to be.

He asked, “Where did you get that rose? Did you finally give your crystal to Rebecka?”

Jake reached up for the rose that Cici had given him and replied, “Uh … actually I gave it to someone else.” He bit his lip and thought about what had prompted him to give away his mother’s crystal.

Vincent was a little surprised. He thought that Jacob would treasure it more than that.

Jake could see that his father was a little confused and bothered by what he had done. He tried to quickly explain, “It was the strangest thing, Dad. There was this woman in Thailand that came to the hospital with a little Thai girl. She was American … If you met her Dad ... she was amazing. She has dedicated her life to working in this orphanage. As soon as I met her I felt like I knew her from somewhere … there was some kind of connection. And the little girl that she brought to have her cleft lip and cleft palate repaired, she was the sweetest little thing. I can’t get them out of my head. I think she stole a little piece of my heart.”

Vincent was confused. “This woman? But I thought you and Becka…”

Jake interrupted, “No, Dad, the little girl. But I talked with this woman for hours and the more we talked, the more I thought how she was so much like what I had always imagined my own mother would be like. She even sang the same lullaby to that little girl that my angel used to sing to me when I was little. When you gave me the crystal, Dad, you said that one day I would meet a woman that reminded me of my mother and that when I did I should give the crystal to her.”

Vincent was even more confused and asked, “Do you love this woman? I thought that you would give it to Becka ….”

Jake interrupted again, a little frustrated, “No, Dad, I don’t love her. She’s old.” As he said this he rolled his eyes. “She’s probably old enough to be my mother.”

Vincent said, “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

Jake continued, “If you met this woman, Dad, I’m sure you would understand. I’m sure you would like her. She is so much like you. Anyway, I told her I wanted to give her the crystal, but she wouldn’t take it. She said it looked like an heirloom. When I insisted, she agreed to take it only if she could give me this. She said it reminded her of someone she had known a long time ago. So I agreed”

At this he handed the rose to his Father. Vincent was intrigued by it. He had a flash of the memory of the night Catherine had given him a special rose[31] . As he turned it over in his hand, he saw something drawn on the back. It looked like tiny words were written in a spiral design, but the only word he could read was “…Always…”, because the other words were too small. He handed it back to Jake and asked “What does it say? I can’t make it out.”

Jake took it and said, “I don’t know. I didn’t notice that there was anything on the back.” As he looked at it he couldn’t make it out either. “Do you have a magnifying glass around here?”

Vincent searched for a few minutes before he found it. He handed it to Jacob and Jacob went over to the lamp. Squinting and turning it around in his hand he slowly read….

“Though … lovers … be … lost … love … shall … not … and … death … shall … have … no … dominion ... While … I … live … you … live … with … me … in … me ... Always …”

As Jake read those words Vincent was taken back … back the worst night of his life[32] . Jake disappeared and Vincent was back on that roof holding Catherine in his arms. The pain of that moment was as fresh as it was the day it happened. It was such a shock to Vincent to hear those words, those excruciatingly painful words. He repeated slowly the last words he had spoken to Catherine, words he had never repeated to anyone… “While I live, you live, with me, in me … Always”.

Jake was a little frightened by the look on his father’s face. He could see that the words he had read had taken him far from this chamber. He could see the pain in his father’s eyes. He was quiet for a moment and then he reached out and gently placed his hand on Vincent’s shoulder and asked, “Dad?”

Vincent looked at Jacob as if he had just woken up and was a little confused.

Jake asked again, “Dad? What are those words? Is it a poem?”

Vincent replied slowly, “Those words …. No one could possibly know those … words.” And then he shook his head. “No, it’s not possible.” He began to pace slowly, deep in thought.

Jake was concerned and interrupted Vincent’s thoughts. “Dad? What? What is it?”

Vincent looked intently at Jacob and asked, “This woman? What did she look like?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. She was just a regular lady. Uhmm… she was maybe this tall. She had long hair. Uh … greenish eyes. She was old … ish. You know … like you Dad. Maybe a little bit younger. I don’t know.”

Vincent pressed him more, “Did she have any … scars?”

Jake thought for a minute. “She had something, I think…” He touched the left side of his face, near his ear and then said, “No … I’m not really sure. Why?”

Vincent was deep in thought. “It can’t be.” He thought out loud. And then, “No, it’s impossible. I was there when she … I stayed with her. We’ve seen her … spirit here in the tunnels.”

Vincent didn’t realize he was thinking out loud as he continued to pace. He had been softly speaking his thoughts, forgetting that Jake was even there.

Jake interrupted his musings, “Dad, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Vincent answered, “Those words … Those are the words. Words I’ve never told anyone. They were too painful to speak. The last words your mother and I spoke to each other. And then when she … died, I stayed with her for hours, until the dawn … and then...”

It was clear how much pain just speaking about it was causing him. But Jake wanted to know. So he asked, “and then what?”

Vincent continued, “… and then I kissed her and said, ‘While I live, you live, with me, in me … Always[33] .’ I was the only one there, besides Catherine, and she was…” He couldn’t say the word, “… already … gone.”

Jake looked back to the writing on the rose and asked, “What do you think it means?”

Vincent was becoming more practical now as he concluded, “I guess it means nothing. It must just be a strange coincidence. I suppose those words are words anyone might say when they’ve lost someone the way I lost her. They’re the words of a broken heart.”

“You are probably right. She told me that I should cherish the gifts and the moments I’m given, because I never know when it will all be gone. She sounded like someone who knows … loss.”

Vincent was quiet for a moment and then remarked nodding, “That even sounds like something Catherine might have said. I think I understand why you wanted to give the crystal to her. I would have liked to meet her. She sounds exceptional.”

Jake agreed. “She is, Dad. I can’t get them out of my head. You should have seen this little girl. She has suffered so much. And her future is probably pretty hopeless too. But you should see how she smiles. She just lights up a room, and she has the sweetest little laugh. I think she stole a little piece of my heart. Isn’t that strange?”

Vincent answered, “Why would that be strange?”

Jake quickly replied, “Of all of the children we see and help in a year? Why would this one stand out? It doesn’t make sense.”

Jake and Vincent continued to talk for some time. After a while Jake rose to leave. “I better get back, Dad. I have to go back to work tomorrow and I’m sure Becka has a list of things we need to do for the wedding.”

They walked together to the Central Park exit of the tunnels. And in the dim morning light Jake left a lonely trail of footprints in the moist morning grass as he headed back to his apartment building.

To Have And To Hold…

April 26, 2014

Jake was very nervous. In less than 24 hours he would be a married man. It was a huge step in any life, but for Jake it brought with it extra challenges. By going to medical school, he had chosen to make his life in the world above, outside of the tunnels. But strictly by virtue of who he was, his connection with the tunnels would never be severed. Not that he even wanted to sever those ties. Jake loved the tunnels. He loved the life he had lived there. He cherished every memory of his childhood there. He especially cherished his relationship with his father. Sometimes he wondered if any child was ever more loved by a father than he had been. But a part of him had always felt the pull of the world above. He had worked hard to get into medical school. He had earned scholarships that had paid for most of it.

Falling in love with Becka had not actually been part of his plan. He had been aware of the challenges that he might encounter if he ever fell in love, especially if he fell in love with a “top-sider”. How would he ever explain who he was? How could he introduce a girl to his father? Not that he was ashamed of any of it, but the tunnels and Vincent must be carefully protected. He had often wondered if he could he ever trust anyone enough to share his deepest most sacred secrets?

Somehow Becka had managed to conquer all of Jake’s defenses. At first they had just been good friends. Slowly over the last few years they had grown to love each other almost without knowing it was happening.

Becka knew that Jake had secrets and she didn’t care. He was so comfortable to be with. They talked easily. They laughed even easier. She could be herself with him, whatever that even meant. Jake had always accepted her just as she was and he never demanded anything in return. She had never known anyone like Jacob Chandler Vincent.

After Jake had shared his deepest secrets with her, Becka had been thrown for a loop. Seeing the tunnels for the first time and meeting Jake’s father had been so overwhelming that she wasn’t sure how to move forward. She wasn’t sure if she could live with keeping such a secret from her parents and others in her life. But her love for Jake had been stronger than any of her misgivings and so their relationship had only become stronger.

In less than 24 hours she would be Mrs. Jacob Chandler Vincent.

…From This Day Forward

April 27, 2014

Less than an hour to go before the wedding Jake had a quiet moment as he waited in the Groom’s dressing room at the church. His groomsmen were already in the chapel. He could see through the window that guests were beginning to arrive. Looking in the mirror at his tuxedo clad self he took a deep breath to calm himself.

He heard a voice from near the door. “Cold feet, Jake?”

Turning toward the voice he saw Becka’s father approaching. “No Sir. I’m just saying a silent prayer that she doesn’t come to her senses in the next 45 minutes and change her mind.”

Mr. Maxwell laughed. “From the look of her the last time I saw her, I don’t think there is much chance of that, my man.”

Jake took another deep breath. “I love your daughter, Mr. Maxwell, more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. I feel like the luckiest man on earth. I hope I can make her happy.”

Mr. Maxwell put his hands on Jake’s shoulders and said, “You have already done that, Jake. And if you always treat her like you feel like the luckiest man on earth, you won’t go wrong. But you are going to have to stop calling me Mr. Maxwell. You can call me Joe, or you can call me Dad. You choose.”

Jake nodded his head and said, “Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir…. Uuhh… Joe, Sir.”

Joe tried to suppress a laugh. “Are you sure you’re from New York, Jake? Your parents did a wonderful job teaching you manners. I’m sorry they aren’t here to celebrate this day with you.”

Jake looked down slightly and said, “Thank you, S… Joe. I appreciate that. I can feel them here in spirit.”

Jake hated to tell Becka’s parents half truths about who he was and who his parents were. But he couldn’t risk betraying his secrets and where he came from. Jake and Becka had decided to tell her parents that his parents were dead. It was easier that way.

Joe slapped Jake on the back and asked, “Ok, are you ready to get this show on the road?”

Jake nodded his head as they headed for the door and said, “Yes Sir … Sorry, uh, Joe.”

Joe just laughed. It put Jake at ease and Jake laughed too.

****

In the bride’s dressing room Becka took one last look in the mirror. Her mother straightened her veil even though it was already straight. She was trying to keep busy so she wouldn’t cry. She looked at her baby girl in the mirror and couldn’t believe the years had flown by so fast.

Kissing Becka on the cheek she said, “I can hardly believe you are old enough for this. You look so beautiful, Honey.”

Becka hugged her mother back. “Am I really doing this, Mom?”

Jen Maxwell nodded and said, “Only if you want to, Honey. Are you having any second thoughts?”

Becka shook her head and smiled with tears in her eyes. “I love him so much, Mom. I can’t even imagine my life without him in it. Was it like that for you and Dad?” she asked.

Jen nodded her head and smiled. “Yes. We became so much a part of each other’s lives that we realized we belonged together.”

Becka asked, “But, Mom, how can you know that it will last, that it’s the real thing?”

Jen thought for a moment and said, “I guess you know it’s the real thing when the only time you feel like you are really home is when you’re together.”

Becka nodded and smiled. She hugged her mother tightly and said, “Thanks, Mom, I love you.”

Jen laughed and said through tears, “Stop it now, you are going to make me ruin my make up.”

They both laughed and turned toward the door. As they reached the bottom of the stairs she took her father’s arm. The usher escorted her mother to her seat and the wedding march began.

****

The wedding was beautiful, followed by a celebration fit for a princess. The pride and love that Joe and Jen Maxwell had for their daughter was evident to everyone who saw them.

After a lovely dinner, the obligatory toasts and the cutting of the cake, the dancing was about to begin when Jake and Becka took center stage with a guitar in hand. Becka leaned against a stool as Jake addressed the guests.

He said, “We’d like to thank all of you for being here and sharing this day with us. And we would also like to thank those who couldn’t be here today, but are here in spirit. This is our song, but we would like to dedicate it to each of you tonight because each of you in your own unique way have shined your light into our lives and made this day possible.”

Becka approached the microphone and addressed the guests. “This is for all of you.” Then turning to Jake, she said, “But mostly it’s for you, Jake, my husband, my best friend, my heart.”

Jen Maxwell’s eyes were glistening. Her heart was overflowing for her daughter. She had never seen Becka so happy.

As the audience became quiet Becka began to strum the guitar as she sang their song; Jake joined in about halfway through and then they sang it a second time with everyone in the room joining in.

stop and listen; You Are My Sunshine http://youtu.be/K480BTMTpvo

Finally after a day filled with joy and laughter, the festivities of the day began to wind down and Jake and Becka were given a sendoff to their honeymoon.

Joe and Jen Maxwell were the only ones left on the dance floor as the hotel staff began to clean up. They leaned close together as they danced.

“Wow,” Joe said. “Did this really just happen? Did our baby girl just get married?”

Jen smiled. “Yes, yes she did. Wasn’t she beautiful?”

Joe looked lovingly at his bride and said, “Of course she was. She’s her mother’s daughter. You looked beautiful too, Honey.”

Jen laughed and said, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

… and they danced as if the night would never end….

Spinning Out of Control

July 2014

Cici began to realize something was wrong shortly after Candy’s surgery. She was experiencing severe migraines. Sometimes she would spend days sick in bed because of them. At first it was easy to ignore. As it persisted she knew she should get it checked out. Cici had a deep distrust of doctors. Not surprising considering some of her life experiences. But she was slowly becoming frightened by her painful symptoms. The local doctor had suggested she go see a specialist in Bangkok. That meant taking an overnight train. Staying in a hotel and being away from the children she loved. The staff at the orphanage made her go. They were worried about her and they knew she wouldn’t go unless they insisted. Noi would go with her as a companion in case she needed anything.

After days of tests, the news was stunning. The doctor said, “Madam Cici, I am sorry to tell you that you have an aneurysm in your brain.”

Shaking her head a little, she asked, “What does that mean? Do I need surgery?”

“No, Madam, it’s inoperable, and probably fatal. I’m sorry, Madam,” the doctor answered.

There are times in life when the foundation of your world gives way under your feet and everything goes spinning out of control. Cici knew this feeling. It had happened before. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t prepared for it.

The doctor said a lot of other things, but Cici felt like she was listening to him talk underwater.

“It’s probably something you were born with …You should put your affairs in order, Madam… There are some medications… Unable to tell how much time … If it ruptures it will probably be fatal … perhaps there were other treatment options in the United States…”

Cici was very quiet on the train trip back up country. She was contemplating what her next steps should be. I can’t let the children know I’m ill, she thought. But I can’t stay at the orphanage either. I can’t risk the children seeing me die. What would that do to them? She wondered.

Cici kept thinking about her parents. She hadn’t thought about them much for a long time. Now she couldn’t help but think how comforting it would be to have her father’s big arms around her. She continued asking herself searching questions. Should I stay here and die? What does that really mean? Haven’t I been dead for the last 25 years anyway? How different could it be? Who would they bury? And where? They cremate people here. When I am burned to ashes, it will be as if I never even existed. I’ve been a ghost all of these years. Have I ever really existed at all? Her thoughts made her head ache. She could feel the panic rising. Deep breaths, Catherine. Deep breaths. She leaned her head against the cool glass of the train window and closed her eyes. In the center of her inner darkness she could see a small flame flickering in the wind. Although her face showed little expression, if anyone had been paying attention they would have seen an occasional tear escape the corner of her eye and slowly roll down her cheek.

Saying Goodbye

Noi could remember when she was a small child and Cici had brought her and her brother to the orphanage. Cici was different from the other American volunteers that had come and gone over the years. Cici had come and never left. She had been the closest thing to a mother Noi and many other children had ever known. Cici had always been quiet. She never spoke about her life before and she never showed much affection or emotion. When she was with the children though she had always been gentle and kind. The children loved her beyond measure and she always had time for them.

Cici taught them to speak English. She also taught them to read and write in English. Before Cici had come there, the orphans had little in life to look forward to. When they reached adulthood they would be turned out into the streets. Most of the girls as well as some of the boys would become prostitutes or factory slaves, barely ever making enough money to live. They were caught in a terrible cycle of poverty and hardship. Cici had changed things. She made sure they were prepared for good jobs as housemaids or sewing ladies or taxi drivers. She made sure they could make their way in the world. Cici cared more than anyone else ever had.

It was all over now. It was finally time for Cici to go home. Cici was vague about why she was leaving, but Noi knew it had something to do with their recent trip to the big hospital in Bangkok. Cici had been more quiet lately than usual. Noi tried not to cry as she helped Cici prepare to leave. Cici was turning over all of her responsibilities to her. Noi could not stop the fear that was rising within her.

“Noi, I want you to promise me that you will take special care of Candy,” Cici instructed. “She has to have someone who will love for her no matter what. She still needs more surgeries. You will have to take her to Chiang Mai next year when Operation Smile comes back. Can you do that for me?” Cici pressed Noi on this point. She was worried about Candy’s welfare.

“Yes, Khun Cici, I can do that. You will be gone a long time, Madam? When will you come back?” Noi was confused and worried.

Cici didn’t want to say the words out loud. And she didn’t want people get emotional. She was afraid of losing control of herself. So she didn’t tell the whole truth.

Noi, I’m sick. I have to go to a doctor in the United States. I don’t know how long I will be gone. I know you can do this. You have been here as long as I have. You can make better lives for all of these children. Okay?”

Noi was fighting back tears. She had a feeling that Cici wasn’t being completely honest. “You are going to die, Khun Cici?” she asked.

Cici looked away and started putting things in her dufflebag. She finally answered, “Everybody is going to die sometime, Noi.” Then she put her hands on Noi’s shoulders and said, “You can’t tell ANYONE. Do you understand? I don’t want them to know. At least not for a while. Okay?”

Noi nodded in silence. Then she quietly asked, “Are you afraid, Madam?”

Cici continued packing, fighting to hold back the tears she finally answered, “Fear is a useless emotion, Noi. I don’t have the time or the strength to waste being afraid. I have too many things left to do.”

Those last few days Cici was especially attentive to the children. She read them the stories that they loved. She watched them playing in the yard. Everything seemed in sharp focus as she tried to memorize each of their smiles and the sound of their laughter. This orphanage had been her only home, her only family for almost half of her life. She had tried not to feel anything at first. Then she had tried not to love them too much. But that was not the way Cici’s heart was made. Slowly she had begun to love them as much as her broken heart was able to love. And then when Candy had come, the little girl had conquered the rest of Cici’s broken heart. Now Cici was paying the price that she had paid before. Her heart was breaking at the thought of saying goodbye. The children had no idea that Cici was leaving for good. Noi was to go on as before. The children would think that Cici had gone on a vacation the way she did from time to time. After a while they would forget her and their lives would go on without her. Only Noi knew the truth, Cici was not coming back.

Cici combed and braided Candy’s hair with special care that morning. Despite Cici’s efforts, Candy sensed something was wrong. She climbed into Cici’s arms and asked, “เป็นกรุ๊ปเศร้า” “Is Cici sad?”

Cici smiled and answered, “ลูกอมไม่มีผมเป็นอย่างดี. มจะคิดถึงคุณในขณะที่ผมไปแล้ว” “No Candy, I’m fine. I will miss you while I’m gone,” she said as she hugged her a little tighter than usual.

Candy hugged her back and kissed her on the cheek, “ผมจะคิดถึงคุณเพื่อคุณนายกรุ๊ป ต้องรีบกลับมา” “I will miss you too, Madam Cici. Hurry back.” And then she whispered a secret in Cici’s ear. “ฉันรักคุณ” “I love you.”

“ฉันรักคุณมากจนเกินไป มีผู้หญิงที่ดีในขณะที่ผมไปแล้ว I love you too. Be a good girl while I'm gone,” Cici whispered. As Cici hugged Candy one last time, she said a little prayer for the child. She was worried about what would happen to her.

As the tuk tuk pulled away from the orphanage Noi and Candy stood hand in hand waving to Cici until she was completely out of sight. Cici was taking the overnight train to Bangkok and then she would go straight to the airport. As the train pulled away from the station Cici began to relax and realized how exhausted she was. She hadn’t realized how much energy it had taken to control her emotions for the last two weeks. She curled up into the train seat and leaned against the window. The cool glass soothed the ache in her head as she fell into a dreamless sleep. All she could see was the light of a small flame flickering in the wind and she thought she heard the distant sound of Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony.

****

Vincent had not slept well through the night. Shortly before morning he began to dream that he was sitting alone in the dark. He saw a small flame bravely flickering against the wind. He could feel the vibrating movement beneath him as if he was riding in a train. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, he could see the figure of a pale, slight woman curled up asleep with her head leaning against a glass window. Hanging around her neck, he could see the crystal. It was the same woman he had seen in another dream months before, only she was alone and she looked very fragile and tired. Was it Catherine? He thought he could hear the distant strains of Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony. …  As the symphony played he found himself standing on the train tracks. He could see the dim lights of the train slowly coming toward him. As the lights came closer and closer he tried to move off the tracks, but his feet were stuck fast. And then just as the train was bearing down on him he woke up.

… I Did Not Die

Saturday, July 19, 2014 Day 1;

New York City! Cici breathed it in as deeply as she could. There was something about just being back in New York City that filled an emptiness in her. Perhaps it was because so many of her precious memories were interwoven through these streets, the parks and the lights of the city. She savored the smell of the hot dog vendor’s cart on the street corner. The sounds of the city, the car horns and busy people hailing taxi’s sounded like a long forgotten tune. The New York City skyline on a clear night had always looked as if the stars had been specially lit just to make it even more beautiful. It was hard to tell where the city lights ended and the stars began.

Something was different though. This time Cici was coming home for good. She had come back to reclaim the last thing of value she had in the world. She had come back to reclaim her identity. For 25 years she had lived without it. Giving it up had been the only way she believed she could protect the people she loved. But she had recently come to realize that even though she was willing and able to live without her name, she couldn’t bring herself to die without it. She needed to know that she had left at least one thing behind in the world that would bear witness that she had lived, even if it was only a headstone. She found it comforting somehow to think of being laid to rest next to the two people who had brought her into the world, who had ever loved her without reservation to their very last breath.  Over the years she had slowly accepted the death of all her dreams. She just had this last one left, to be buried next to her parents under a stone that bore her true name; Catherine Chandler.

After settling herself in a cheap hotel and taking a much needed shower, Catherine found herself walking the streets of Manhattan even though the hour was very late. Taking in all the sounds and the smells and the lights of the city, it seemed the same in some ways. And in some ways it was very different. Eventually she found herself standing at the graveside of her parents. Even though she knew that they were gone, a blanket of peace settled over her as she stood there before their graves. For so long she had been a ghost in a world where no one knew who she really was. It was a little ironic that it was in a cemetery that she began to reclaim her old life.

“Hi Mom. Hi Dad,” she said as she kissed her hand and reached out and stroked the headstones. “I know that you know who I am.”

As she turned to the headstone that bore the name of Catherine Chandler she shuddered a little. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m Catherine Chandler. I am Catherine Chandler. I am Catherine Chandler.” She repeated it over and over.

Maybe if I say it enough times I will start feeling like it’s true, she thought. She came close to the stone and pulled out a permanent parker and wrote something under the inscription. Then pulling a small birthday candle out of her pocket, she lit it and stood it in a little puddle of wax on the top of the headstone. She watched it for a moment and then she walked away.

As Catherine walked away, a cloaked shadowy figure appeared from behind a nearby tree.

Vincent had felt drawn to Catherine’s grave that night. He seldom went there anymore. He couldn’t feel her presence there. But as he approached her grave, he saw that someone, a woman, was already there. It surprised him to see anyone there at such an early morning hour. He usually had the city pretty much to himself in the darkest hours of the night.

Hiding in the shadows, he was close enough to hear her speaking to the headstones. He drew in his breath sharply as he heard her say, “I don’t know who you are, but I’m Catherine Chandler. I am Catherine Chandler. I am Catherine Chandler.” He recalled his recent dreams and tried to get a better look at this woman. Could it be the woman from his dreams?

It isn’t possible, he thought. I was with her. I held her. I stayed with her. She was … gone., he thought.

He couldn’t see her clearly enough to see her face. As she walked away, Vincent drew closer to the grave of the only woman he had ever loved and saw a tiny candle perched on top of the stone.

He recalled something Catherine had said to him once, “Remember how I told you when I was little I was afraid of the dark? Well my mother gave me a candle to light at my bedside before I went to sleep. It was just a tiny little thing, a birthday candle. Somehow it made it all right. I’ve loved candles ever since.”[34]

Vincent watched the tiny flame until it went out. Then in the dim light of the cemetery he could barely make out something written on the stone that he had never seen there before. Written in marker were the words: Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not here; I did not die.

He recalled the poem that these lines had come from …

…but he was unable to accept the possibility of what the words really meant because Vincent knew that it wasn’t possible! But regardless of what he knew, it weighed on his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He could feel the shadow of something looming, but he wasn’t sure what it was or how to feel about it.

The Way Begins

Sunday July 20, 2014 Day 2;

The next morning Catherine called Peter. Although she had exchanged letters with him over the years, she hadn’t actually spoken to him since she left the United States in 1990. She had made it clear to him that she didn’t want to know anything about Vincent or their son unless it was vitally important. She felt it would be too dangerous for them and too difficult for her to stay away if she knew about their lives. Peter had to be around 90 years old by now. She had written him as soon as she had decided to come back to New York and explained to him what her diagnosis was. She wasn’t sure if he had even received the letter. The mail from Thailand wasn’t always reliable.

The phone rang a couple of times. It was finally answered by a woman on the other end, “Hello?”

Catherine asked, “May I speak to Peter Alcott please?”

“Whom may I say is calling?” asked the voice on the other side.

“It’s Catherine. I wrote him that I would be coming. I hope he is expecting me.” Catherine explained.

“One moment please,” said the voice.

“Hello? Cathy?” said Peter.

Making a valiant effort to control her emotions, Catherine answered, “Yes, Peter, it’s me.”

“Cathy, I only got your letter two days ago. When are you coming over here?” Peter’s concern was evident in his voice.

“I can come right away, if that’s all right with you?” she replied.

Within the hour Catherine was standing in Peter’s apartment being embraced by the only person on earth that knew she was even alive. She rarely let anyone get close enough to embrace her. She was surprised by her inability to control her emotions. She hated the feeling. It was like being plunged into ice water. Despite the warmth of the July day, Peter could feel her stiffen and then begin shaking from head to toe as he hugged her.

Peter guided her into his study and said, “Sit down Cathy. You look exhausted.”

Catherine sat down obediently and found herself sitting in the farthest corner of a large overstuffed couch. She was overwhelmed by a wave of feelings and memories that were rushing over her. She pulled a large pillow from the couch and held it like it was a life preserver as she covered her face with her hands. She sat silently like that for several minutes taking deep cleansing breaths in an effort to regain her composure.

As Peter sat across the room and patiently waited for Catherine to pull herself together, he was able to make some observations. She naturally looked older than the last time he had seen her. In spite of that, she was clearly still Catherine. She had a classic beauty that had not faded. She looked very pale and thin and tired, and her hands looked like the hands of someone who had known a life of hard work. Her clothes looked like they had seen better days. Peter had a thousand questions, but he could see that Cathy needed space and patience. He noticed that from time to time she nervously rubbed her right wrist on which she wore a wide leather wrist band.

After several minutes Catherine broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Peter.” She took another deep breath. “I don’t mean to waste your time, but I …”

“It’s fine, Cathy,” Peter interrupted. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

Not expecting that question, she had to think for a minute. “Uhm … yesterday, I guess. I had something on the plane.” Every word came with great effort.

Peter left the room for a moment and spoke to someone. When he returned he asked, “Do you think you can eat something?”

Catherine nodded and said, “I can try.”

“Did you bring your medical records with you?” Peter asked gently.

Without speaking Catherine reached into her backpack and pulled out a large rumpled envelope and handed it to Peter.

Peter reached for the packet and said, “I’ll just take a look at these. That will give you a little while to try and relax. Okay Cathy?”

Catherine nodded almost imperceptibly and then reclined on the couch and closed her eyes. She continued to breathe deeply in an attempt to overcome the feeling of intense panic that was enveloping her. After a few minutes her breathing became more even and Peter realized she had fallen asleep. He also noted that as she lay there sleeping an occasional tear would squeeze through her closed eyelids and roll down her cheeks.

****

Vincent had not slept well until just before dawn. When he did wake up late in the morning he still couldn’t make sense of his thoughts. He had barely begun his day when an overwhelming feeling of panic overcame him. He began to shake and his head began to throb. Father witnessed this episode as Vincent was unable to hide it. He sat in Father’s chamber trying to calm himself. Father was very concerned by these symptoms. They were reminiscent of a terrible time in Vincent’s life many years ago. Father sat silently with Vincent until the episode passed.

Vincent finally spoke, “I know what you’re thinking, Father. I can see the fear in your eyes.”

Father then asked the question that had been hanging in the air, “It’s been years since I saw you do that, Vincent. Are you all right? Do you think it’s happening again?”

Vincent knew the answer. “No.” He shook his head and continued, “It isn’t anything like that. I’m not sure what it is, Father. But I know it’s not that. I am in control … of myself.”

Father seemed relieved, but he was still worried. “Then what?”

Vincent tried to explain, “I don’t’ know. I’m trying to understand. Sometimes … lately … I can’t focus. I’ve been dreaming of … of Catherine. Last night I went to her grave. I felt drawn to it. There was someone there, a woman … standing at her graveside.”

Father was trying to understand. He asked, “Good Heavens, Vincent. Did she see you? Could you see who it was? Why would anyone be there? … in the middle of the night …?”

Vincent shook his head. “She didn’t see me, Father. I was in the shadows. But I heard her say, ‘I don’t know who you are, but I am Catherine Chandler’. At first I thought she was talking to me and then I realized that she was speaking to the headstone.” He thought for a moment and added, “When she left, I went closer to the grave. She had left a small candle burning on top of the headstone and she had written something under the inscription.” He became thoughtful as he recalled the words.

Father prompted him by asking, “What did it say?”

Vincent answered slowly. “It said, ‘Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not here. I did not die.’”

Father was astounded. “But that isn’t possible. You were with her. There was a funeral. Could it be possible, Vincent?”

Vincent stood and began to pace. “It is NOT POSSIBLE, Father! How I wish it was … possible! If she was alive, she would have been here, with us all this time. NO, IT IS NOT POSSIBLE!” Vincent said forcefully. Then in a more somber tone he spoke as he remembered those excruciatingly painful moments. “She died in my arms, Father. I carried her home. I stayed with her for hours.[35] She was … gone … She was … dead.”

And then he added, “Her spirit has walked these tunnels. I have seen her myself. I don’t know who this woman is. But it is not Catherine.”

****

While Catherine slept, Peter called an old friend at the Neurological Institute. “Hello Mack. This is Peter Alcott….”

Hours later Catherine could feel two little arms wrap around her neck and a soft little kiss on her cheek. Then she heard a little girl’s voice whisper, “ฉันรักคุณ Cici” “I love you Cici,”

Catherine woke up confused and disoriented. It was late in the afternoon. It took a moment for her to remember where she was.

Momentarily Peter walked into the room. “Ah, Cathy, how are you feeling?”

Catherine was embarrassed. “I am so sorry Peter. I didn’t mean to …”

Peter cut her off, “Don’t apologize, Cathy. You needed to rest. Right now being well rested is the best thing for you. Dinner is almost ready. You have got to eat something.”

They talked as they headed for the dining room. Catherine wasn’t very hungry, but Peter insisted that she eat.

Catherine didn’t argue. She wasn’t sure where to start. “Peter, did you look at my medical records?”

Peter answered, “I did.”

“And?” Catherine’s question hung in the air.

Peter was honest. “Cathy, I haven’t practiced medicine for a long time. You need to see a neurologist. The sooner the better.”

Cathy put her hand to her forehead. “I need to get my identity back first. I can’t … die, Peter, not until …. not until I’m not dead anymore.”

Peter was frustrated at what he was hearing. “Cathy, you cannot put this off. There could be a surgery or a treatment…”

“And what name should I put on the paperwork?” she asked. “My fake identity? I can’t do that. What if there is a surgery and I die during the operation? What would it say on my headstone? Here lies nobody? I’ve been a nameless ghost for 25 years Peter. I need my name if I’m going to die.”

“Then what can I do, Cathy?” Peter asked.

Cathy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I need a lawyer, if I have any chance of straightening this out before I ...  There is only one person that I trust. I hope I can trust. I need your help to contact him. Do you remember Joe Maxwell?”

Peter agreed to contact him for her. Then he approached the subject he had been afraid to bring up. He finally asked, “What about Vincent? And …”

Catherine finished it for him. “… and Jacob Chandler Vincent?”

Peter was shocked. He had no way of knowing that Catherine knew anything about her son. The expression on his face said it all.

Catherine answered his unspoken question. “He was one of the doctors with Operation Smile in Thailand back in April. I was there with a little girl from the orphanage. I think we both felt a connection. After talking for quite some time, I realized who he was. It was quite a shock.”

Peter finally able to speak asked, “Did he know who you were?”

“NO,” she answered emphatically. And then more softly, “No…. At least I don’t think so…. I hope not.” Oh how she hoped not.

“Are you going to contact them? Are you going to let them know …?” Peter asked.

“Let them know what?” Catherine was becoming agitated. “That I was just pretending to be dead for the last 25 years? But now I really am dying? Haven’t they suffered enough pain because of me?” She became more subdued and said, shaking her head, “No, Peter, It’s better for them to just keep thinking that I am dead. It’ll be true soon enough anyway.”

There was an awkward silence and then Peter asked, “How do you think you can keep it quiet? Your death was in all the papers.”

Catherine closed her eyes and breathed deeply before she answered, “I don’t know. I’m hoping Joe can help me.”

Then realizing the time, she rose and said, “I need to go. I’m sorry I took up so much of your time. Thank you, Peter, for everything.”

Peter seemed surprised. “You aren’t staying here? Cathy, you really should stay here. There is plenty of room.”

Catherine protested, “No, Peter. I really don’t want anyone to know where I am staying. I don’t want to put you in any danger … if there is still any danger.”

Peter still insisted, “If there is any danger, Cathy, and I’m not sure there is after all this time, what’s the worst that could happen? Someone might kill me? Look at me, Cathy. I’m going to die soon one way or the other. You need a safe place. This is a safe place. And you need someone to make sure you eat and get the rest you need. I may not be much use as a doctor anymore, but I can manage that.”

Catherine was hesitant. Then Peter added, “Come on, Cathy, let this old man do one useful thing before I die.”

“No one, absolutely NO ONE, can know I’m here. Okay?” Cathy gave in reluctantly.

Peter agreed immediately and asked, “Do you need to go back to your hotel and get your things?”

Catherine took a taxi to her hotel. It took her less than 10 minutes to gather her meager belongings and get back into the waiting taxi. Within the hour she was back at Peter’s home.

As she came in with a duffle bag, Peter looked confused. “That’s it? Where’s the rest?” He asked.

Catherine responded, “This is it, Peter.”

“WHAT?” Peter was astounded.

Catherine gave him a wry smile and answered flippantly, “I’m a ghost Peter. I travel light.”

As he closed the door he said under his breath, “No kidding.”

Becoming Catherine

Monday July 21, 2014 Day 3;

Catherine slept until late the next morning. She had not realized how tired she really was. After a good night’s sleep Catherine felt much better. It was the first day in a long time that she had woken up without a headache. But she felt like the slightest thing could shatter her into a million pieces. She realized that there were few safe places for her in the world. Peter had made her feel safe here. She took a long hot shower and made her way to the kitchen in search of food.

Peter had left a note for her on the kitchen table, “Lunch on the roof.”

Peter greeted her as soon as she came through the roof door. “Good morning, Cathy! Or should I say good afternoon?”

Catherine looked a little shocked when she heard her name. She replied, “Good morning, Peter.” She smiled at him and then said, “I’m not used to hearing my name. It jars me a little.”

She looked around the roof. Peter had turned it into a beautiful rooftop garden. She closed her eyes and drank in the scent of honeysuckle that pervaded the roof.  “OH, Peter, this is wonderful.”

Peter smiled, “It’s my own private oasis. It gives an old man a reason to climb those stairs.”

Peter was clearly impressed with the change he saw in Catherine. “You look much better this morning. How are you feeling?”

Cathy smiled a little and then replied softly, “Peter, can you ask me something else? I don’t want to talk about how I feel, but I don’t want to lie to you either. I’m sorry.”

Peter understood so he asked something else. “All right then, how did you sleep?”

Cathy laughed a little and answered, “I slept well, Peter. Thank you.”

“Do you feel up to going to see Joe Maxwell this afternoon?” Peter asked.

“You’ve already got an appointment?” Catherine was impressed, and surprisingly a little apprehensive, that he had managed to get an appointment so soon. She had to take a couple of deep breaths to keep her heart from racing. Then nodding she said, more to herself than to Peter, “Yes, yes … I can do this.”

“What did you tell him?” she asked.

“I just told him I needed to see him and it was extremely urgent and confidential. He was very accommodating. We are his last appointment today,” Peter answered. Then he added, “That gives us a few hours to talk, Cathy. Do you feel like filling me in on what you have been doing for the last 25 years?”

Catherine quietly nodded, “I can do that. I guess I owe you that much.”

Peter quickly replied, “You don’t owe me anything, Cathy… if you’re not up to it …”

Catherine interrupted, “Yes Peter, I do … owe you … more than I can ever repay.” Catherine spent the afternoon filling Peter in on the major details of the life she had led. She carefully avoided anything that would provoke her emotions. Over the years she had become good at that. She felt that she, as well as everyone she cared about, was safer if she felt as little emotion as possible. It was like walking a tight rope all of the time trying to find the balance that would still allow her to function in her life. What was disturbing to her was that it was getting harder and harder for her to maintain that balance. Catherine wasn’t sure how much longer she could do it.

Peter eventually steered the conversation around to topics he knew were sensitive. “Cathy, we need to discuss your estate and your foundation.”

Catherine’s expression immediately changed. She looked sideways at Peter, but remained silent.

Peter continued, “Your father made some very good investments before he died. You’re a very wealthy woman, Cathy.”

Catherine finally responded, shaking her head. “I left that all to you when I died Peter. I don’t have anything.”

“But you aren’t really dead, Cathy. It still belongs to you. Even this apartment belongs to your estate,” Peter replied.

Catherine smiled softly and quietly said, “I won’t have any use for it where I’m going.”

“The Catherine Chandler Foundation has helped a lot of people over the years. You have helped a lot of people. Jacob and the other children in the tunnels could never have …”

Catherine stopped him, holding up her hand she said, “Peter, I don’t want to know details. It’s too hard. If it’s helped, that’s all I need to know.”

Peter tried to continue without agitating her. “Sooner or later you need to hear it Cathy. I am old. I’m not going to live much longer. Someone will have to take over.”

Catherine thought for a moment and said, “You should leave it to Jake. It will be rightfully his. He’s a good man. He has a good heart. I trust him to use it wisely.”

Peter tried to reply but Catherine interjected, “Peter, can we … please … stop now?”

Peter relented and he left Catherine sitting alone in the healing fragrance of the garden.

I Have To Trust Someone

Joe’s office was pretty impressive. He had made quite a successful career for himself over the years. He had a law firm in Midtown Manhattan. Catherine hardly noticed the décor. She was incredibly nervous. Peter could see how pale she was. Her hands were shaking a little. Catherine was becoming painfully aware of how out of place she looked. Her clothes were all wrong and too worn for this part of town. She looked down at her hands and was suddenly embarrassed at how rough they looked. Her mind began to spin with questions like; What if I can’t get my name back? What if no one believes me? What if I can’t trust Joe?

“Calm down Cathy. You have to trust someone,” she whispered to herself as she could feel her heart beating in her throat. “You have to do this. It’s going to be all right,” she continued to encourage herself as she took deep breaths. Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths, she kept repeating in her head.

Luckily they didn’t have to wait long. The phone rang and they could hear the receptionist say, “Yes, Mr. Maxwell, Dr. Alcott is here. Yes, Mr. Maxwell. Thank you. Yes Sir.”

Then she turned to Peter and Catherine and said, “Mr. Maxwell is on his way up. If you would follow me please?”

She showed them into a large office and said, “Mr. Maxwell will be right with you.”

“Thank you,” Peter replied. Catherine was too busy trying to control her emotions to hear the exchange. She went to the window to try and distract herself.

It was only a few minutes before Joe entered the office. He greeted Peter warmly, “Hello, Peter! How are you?”

Peter responded, eager to get past the small talk. “I’m fine, Mr. Maxwell. At least as fine as someone my age can be.”

“Please, call me Joe, Peter. We’ve known each other too long for formalities.” Then looking curiously to the woman standing at the window, he asked, “What can I do for you today, Peter?”

Peter walked over to Catherine and quietly asked, “Are you all right?”

She nodded and said, “I’m okay, Peter.”

They then turned to Joe and Peter said, “Joe, do you remember Cathy?”

Joe reached out to shake her hand. Then squinting, Joe looked at Catherine and cocked his head a little to the side. Then he said, “No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”

Catherine finally spoke, “It’s me, Joe, Catherine Chandler.”

Joe pulled his hand back as if it was burned. He backed up a little and looked angrily at Peter. “Cathy Chandler has been dead for years. What kind of a sick joke is this?”

Catherine answered, “It really is me, Joe. I am Cathy Chandler…” Then she recalled what he used to call her, “… Radcliffe?”

Joe backed up a little and laughed skeptically. “That IS NOT possible. Cathy Chandler is DEAD! I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but I saw her body myself. I WATCHED THEM CARRY HER OUT IN A BODY BAG!” Nevertheless, he was looking at her closely and had to admit that he was beginning to see that there was a resemblance.

“I know that, Joe.” Then she had a spark of memory and said softly, almost to herself, “Someone said ‘… bag her hands, I don’t want to lose anything on the way in’.[36] ”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Joe was visibly agitated. He remembered that morning like it was yesterday and those words were engraved in his memory.

Catherine’s voice remained soft. “That’s the last thing I … remember hearing before I … before I … woke up.”

“Before you woke up?” Joe shook his head, trying to understand what she was saying. “Before you woke up where?”

She spoke haltingly, “I … I don’t know where… a house … a white room …” She was trying now to remember things she had tried hard to forget. “A white room with no windows…”

She began to rub her temples to ease the pressure in her head.

Joe was silent. The memories were painful for him as well. He was having great difficulty believing what was happening, even though the more he looked at Catherine and watched her mannerisms, the more confused he was about the “truth”.

Joe wanted to end this awkward and disturbing conversation as soon as possible. “Let’s say I were to believe you. Which, by the way, I am not saying that I do, what do you want from me?”

Catherine was trying to suppress her rising desperation. “Joe, I haven’t trusted anyone from my past, except for Peter, for the last 25 years. I’m not even sure if I can trust you. But if I am going to get my identity back …. I have to trust someone.”

Joe was a little taken aback by this strategy. “What does that mean? You don’t know if you can trust me?”

“Joe …!” She was trying to organize her thoughts, when so many memories were rushing to the surface. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …” She paused for several seconds and then in desperation she continued, “It was John Moreno that betrayed me … turned me over … to them … to … him … Gabriel. Did you know that?” A couple of tears escaped her eyes despite her best efforts.

“Up until that moment I trusted him completely. I thought I knew the difference between the ‘good guys’ and the ‘bad guys’.”

By this point Catherine was shaking visibly, she began rubbing her wrist as if it was causing her pain and the tears were shimmering in her eyes. She took several deep breaths and continued speaking as if she was living the memories in real time. “I remember what you looked like Joe, lying in that hospital bed. You were so … broken … and burned.” She wiped her cheeks, and took another deep breath. “… and Elliot Burch? … He’s only dead because he knew me … because he was stupid enough to love me. How many people died because of me, Joe? Because of that investigation? And that stupid book?” A tear rolled down her cheek in the thick silence of the room.

Then she spoke calmly almost without any emotion, “I knew, when by some miracle I lived through it and found my way out, that to protect anyone who ever cared about me, I needed to stay dead.” She stood to leave. She felt very tired. The resignation in her voice was clear as she said, “Maybe that’s what I should just do now. It will be true soon enough anyway. I’m sorry I bothered you, Joe.” Then turning to Peter she said, “I’m ready to go now, Peter.” And with that she quietly walked out the door.

Peter silently followed her to the elevator. They were silent all the way back to his place. Peter was very worried about her, but he was afraid to break the silence. She looked so fragile. When they finally got to his apartment he asked, “Do you need anything, Cathy?”

She shook her head and said, “Good night Peter, and thank you ...” She kissed his cheek and added, “… for everything.” She was too tired to fight the waves of sadness that were washing over her. She barely got her shoes off before she lay down on her bed and fell asleep. She didn’t want to think any more today. She just wanted sleep. As she closed her eyes, Catherine watched the tiny flickering flame in the darkness in her head until she drifted away.

****

In the early evening Vincent was enjoying a visit from Jacob and Rebecka. Their visits were always so welcome and full of joy. Parents love to see that their children are happy. Vincent was no different. Seeing his son so in love was like balm to his heart. He was beginning to see so many of his own unfulfilled dreams coming true in Jacob’s life.

As they laughed and poured over wedding pictures and honeymoon pictures they told Vincent about everything they had seen. As he was drinking it all in he began to feel a vague feeling of dread rising in him and he noticed his hands were shaking. Just as it seemed to reach a climax, it stopped and he was overcome by a wave of extreme sadness and fatigue.

“Dad? Are you all right?” Jake was clearly worried.

Vincent leaned back in his chair and rested his head in his hands. “I was … frightened … only for a few moments … and now I just feel incredibly … sad,” he said in a confused tone.

Jake was confused too. “Dad? What are you talking about?”

Vincent was talking mostly to himself when he answered, “I don’t know. I just felt this wave of intense emotion.”

“What are you talking about, Dad?” Jake was clearly concerned

“I don’t really know myself, Jacob,” Vincent said. “I have been having some strange feelings lately. I’m trying to make sense of it all.”

“Well, when you do, could you let me in on it? Maybe you should lie down for a little while, Dad.” Jake helped him over to his bed. “I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t worried about you.”

“I appreciate your concern, Jacob. I just don’t know what good it does for you to worry,” Vincent replied.

“I love you, Dad. What kind of a son would I be if I didn’t worry about my aged father? I want you to rest now, so maybe I can feel better. How’s that?” Jake said, only half joking, to try and lighten the mood.

Vincent smiled a little and said, “Fine, I guess I can do that. I’ll take a nap. I hope it makes you feel better, Jake.”

With that they hugged and Vincent lay down, rolled over and went to sleep watching a tiny, flame bravely flickering in the wind.

After a while he found himself dreaming of the waterfalls listening to the soothing sounds of the rushing water. His dreams took him back to a time when Catherine was there with him.

When he woke up the next morning he felt like a piece of himself that had been long lost was somehow restored.

****

Catherine found herself wandering deep into the tunnels that night in her dreams. She sat quietly listening to the rushing waters of the underground waterfall. She remembered sitting there years ago with Vincent and listening to him read. It felt like she sat there for hours in solitude as the sound of the water soothed and refreshed her aching spirit. She could hear Vincent as they shared treasured childhood memories and future hopes and dreams. His voice was soft and reassuring, encouraging her;

“Catherine …every moment that we share is a triumph and a gift. And every one of those moments is a lifetime, complete. There is no failure. It doesn’t mean our dream can never be. It just means that now is not the right time. You came here to heal, but now your destiny is to be in both worlds. You are a woman of both worlds. That is who you are.”

Catherine asked, “Do you think that someday … will we ever be together? Truly together?”

Vincent answered her gently, “Only if and when we understand how great the sacrifice and how large the fears and are able to move through them…. Catherine we are something that has never been, and our journey is one that none have ever taken….We must go with courage, and we must go with care….”[37]

Such dreams always brought her comfort and renewed her strength.

Premonition

After Peter and Catherine had left Joe’s office, Joe felt like he had been struck by lightning. He sat silently at his desk for quite some time replaying the encounter over and over in his head. He was sure that Catherine Chandler was dead. He had seen her himself. He had watched them carry her out of her apartment in a body bag. He had been at the medical examiner’s office on the day of her autopsy. He had planned her funeral with Jenny Aronson. He had watched as her casket was lowered into the grave. The memories were extremely painful. And yet …

… as he recalled this woman, he couldn’t deny the incredible resemblance. And some of the things she said could only have been known by Catherine. She even had a scar that resembled the scar that Catherine had after she was attacked.

Joe’s mind was still reeling when he walked into his apartment. Jen could tell something was wrong, but she knew not to ask him about his work. So she just hugged him and asked, “Hi, Honey, would you like some dinner? You look like you had a hard day.”

Joe returned her hug and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Honey that would be great,” he replied.

As they ate dinner together it was very quiet. Joe was still going over the encounter with “Catherine” in his mind. He was wondering if he should share it with Jen. After all she had been Cathy’s best friend. In a way this concerned her as well. But he also knew that as this woman was seeking his professional help, that he should keep it confidential.

Several hours later he was awakened out of a deep sleep by Jen’s screams.

“Jen, Jen! Are you all right?” Joe was trying to shake her awake.

Jen looked at him at first with terror in her eyes and then with confusion. He tried speaking to her again, “Are you all right? Jeez, you just about gave me a heart attack.”

Jen put her hand over her chest and took a few deep breaths as she tried to explain. “We were walking in a cemetery, Joe. We were walking and then we were standing at a grave. When I looked at the headstone I saw that it was Cathy’s grave.”

Joe interrupted, “Cathy?”

Jen took another deep breath. “Cathy Chandler”

Joe was jarred by her answer. “What happened?”

Jen continued, “We were standing there and suddenly it just opened up and we looked in and …”

“… and what?” Joe was getting agitated

“It was empty, Joe,” Jen said. “And then a hand touched my shoulder. When I turned to look she was standing there smiling, just the way she used to. And she said, ‘Jen, I am not here, I did not die.’”

Jen’s heart was beginning to slow down to normal again. “Joe, it’s been years since I dreamed about her. What do you think it means?”

Joe just put his arms around her. His mind was racing, but he didn’t know what to say. Anything he could say right now would only upset her more. “I don’t know, Jen. Maybe you ate a bad canolli or something. Do you think you can go back to sleep? Or could you go for some hot cocoa?”

“Hot cocoa sounds pretty good.” She answered smiling a little. “I’m sorry I scared you, Joe.” She got out of bed and reached for her bathrobe.

Joe laughed a little and said, “That’s okay, Honey. You sure got my heart racing. Come to think of it, I could use a little more excitement.” He playfully swatted her on the bottom as they headed for the kitchen.

They both laughed at this and Jen said, “Simmer down, Tiger.”

A Grave Situation

Tuesday July 22, 2014 Day 4:

When Catherine woke up the next morning, she felt ready to face whatever the day had in store for her. She was always amazed at the strength she was still able to find in her memories and dreams of Vincent.

When she appeared in the dining room, Peter was surprised at what he saw. The change in her was amazing.

Catherine noted the surprise on his face. “Are you all right, Peter? You look surprised to see me.”

Peter finally replied, “You look wonderful, Cathy! I must say, I was very worried about you last night when you went to bed.”

Catherine nodded. “Well, I think I have wallowed long enough, don’t you? It isn’t very productive anyway. So, it looks like I may not be able to get my identity back. I guess my next move is to take your advice and go see a doctor to see if this thing in my head is really going to kill me. After that maybe I can make a plan. And maybe you can have your privacy back.”

Peter was encouraged by Catherine’s change in attitude. “Privacy is over rated Cathy. The silence around here can be deafening sometimes. You are welcome to stay here as long as you want. I have already spoken to a colleague of mine, a neurologist, at Columbia about your condition. He is anxious to see you. Can I call him and see when he can fit you in?”

Catherine took a deep breath and said, “Yes, Peter, that would be great. Thank you.” Then changing the subject abruptly she said, “I need something to do Peter. I’m used to being busy. Do you have any suggestions?”

Peter was surprised again. “Cathy? Are you sure you are up to it? You should probably rest.”

Showing a little impatience Catherine replied, “I’m not going to work construction, Peter. I just need to keep busy. It helps me to …” She was going to say “control my emotions” but she didn’t want to talk about that, so instead she said, “… keep my mind occupied. I can’t just sit around and think about dying.”

Peter said, “The Catherine Chandler Foundation supports a women’s shelter and also a shelter for homeless youth. I think both of them are always in need of help in their kitchens. I could give one of them a call and tell them you are coming. Who should I say wants to work there?”

Catherine hesitated for a moment and reluctantly said, “I guess for now I will have to stay Cici Chamberlain.” Seeing the worried look on his face, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to compromise. “How about this, Peter, I will only spend a couple of hours there until I prove to you that I am able to do it, okay?”

Peter was willing to accept this compromise and he went to make a few phone calls.

A couple of hours later Cici/Catherine was standing at the entrance of the homeless shelter. She was surprised that she was a little nervous. But that was short lived as a friendly young woman greeted her.

“Hi, I’m Becka, can I help you?” She held out her hand to Cici/Catherine.

Cici/Catherine was instantly at ease. “Yes, I’m Cici. I believe my friend Peter Alcott called you?”

“Yes, yes he did. Come into the office so we can chat for a few minutes,” Becka said.

As the office door closed the shelter’s custodian approached the office door. He had a curious look on his face. He had seen the strange woman enter the shelter. He had witnessed the exchange between the two women. Being the custodian made him virtually invisible. He was a part of the building much like the furniture. People rarely even noticed he was there even when he was clearly visible. But he saw and heard almost everything. The expression on his face was one of confusion and disbelief. As he went on with his work he was clearly pondering what he had just seen.

As they sat down Becka got right down to business. “Peter didn’t give me a lot of information. So Cici, can you tell me what brings you to us?”

Cici/Catherine was as open as she felt she could be. “I’m here in New York visiting Peter. He is a dear old friend. I am having some medical issues and Peter just wants me to rest. I can’t do that. I have time on my hands and I want to keep busy. Peter suggested that you might need some extra hands in the kitchen for a couple hours a day. So here I am.”

Becka was thrilled to get any help, but she didn’t want to appear too desperate. “Can you cook?”

Cici/Catherine laughed, “Well, I can chop vegetables. I can wash dishes. I can cook on a very basic level. I can sweep and take out garbage. But if you want an actual cook … you might be disappointed.”

Becka was smiling. “Hey, whatever you can offer, we’ll take it. I didn’t want to seem too desperate. But let’s face it…beggars can’t be choosers.”

Cici/Catherine decided to be a little more forthcoming. “I need to let you know right up front that I might not be very predictable with my availability. Is it all right if I just come here whenever I’m available? Peter is strictly forbidding me from working more than 2 hours a day.”

Becka was very accommodating. “Whatever you can offer is great Cici. We appreciate your help. Why don’t I just give you a tour today and introduce you to a couple of people. Next time you come back you can just get right into the thick of it.”

By the end of the tour Cici/Catherine and Becka were talking like they had been friends for years. Catherine was glad she had come. It was nice to have a break from everything that was happening in her life. She was grateful for the respite. Neither of them had any idea that their worlds would soon collide in a way they could never imagine.

As Catherine left the shelter no one noticed the custodian keenly watching her as she made her way down the street. Catherine stopped by a flower shop and bought two bouquets.  She had one stop to make before she headed back to Peter’s place.

****

That morning as they said good bye Joe asked, “What are your plans today?”

Jen answered, “I can’t get that crazy dream out of my head, Joe. I think I am going to go over to the cemetery on my lunch hour. Other than that, just a regular day.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Joe asked.

Jen answered, “No, that’s okay.” Then she smiled a little and said, “But if a grave opens up in front of me, I will definitely be giving you a call!”

“Okay, you gotta deal,” said Joe laughing as they gave each other a kiss and each went their own way for the day.

Early in the afternoon Jen stopped at a flower shop near her office as she headed for the cemetery. It had been many years since she had been to Cathy’s grave. She was pretty sure she could still find it. It’s hard to forget the death of your best friend. Jen had always felt like Catherine was more like a sister than a friend. She and Joe had even named their daughter after her. Rebecka Catherine Maxwell.

She found the grave easily. As she bent down to place the flowers in front of the headstone she was annoyed that someone had left graffiti on it. When she looked closer she saw the words. “Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not here. I did not die.” She stood up as if she had been given an electric shock. She could hear Cathy’s voice as she had said in her dream, “Jen, I am not here, I did not die.”

She stood there overcome for a few moments. She felt a little faint so she went to sit on a bench that was nearby and then she called Joe.

Joe answered with a good natured tone, “Hi, Jen, don’t tell me. The grave opened up?”

“No, Joe.” She sounded so serious that Joe immediately changed his tone.

“What is it, Jen?” he asked.

“There is something written on her headstone, Joe. Someone has written, “Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not here, I did not die. Joe, that’s what she said in my dream.” Jen was clearly shaken.

As she sat there talking to Joe, she observed from a distance a woman approaching the area of the cemetery where she had just been. She was carrying two bouquets. She stopped at the graves just next to Cathy’s.

“Hey, Joe, can I call you back in a minute?” She didn’t wait for his reply, she just hung up. Jen had risen from the bench and was slowly walking toward the woman. She saw the woman place the bouquets and when she was about 10 feet away she heard the woman say, “Hi Mom. Hi Dad.” as she kissed her fingers and then touched the headstones. Jen was frozen to the spot on the grass. She watched the woman stand there for a few minutes and then as the woman turned to leave, she froze when she saw Jen standing there staring at her.

They stood there frozen in their tracks staring at each other for a moment before Catherine finally spoke, “Jenny? Is that you?”

Jen tried to speak, but no sound came out. Her phone started to ring. She slowly answered it and Joe immediately said, “Jen, are you there? Is everything okay?”

Jen answered, “Uhm … Joe … I think … I think I’m looking at her.”

Joe asked, becoming agitated, “Looking at who? … Jen … looking at who?”

Catherine realized that Jenny was telling someone about her and she sprang into action. She ran up to Jen and grabbed her phone and ended the call. And said, “JEN! No one can know I’m here!” She put her hands on top of her head, clearly panicked. She was trying to figure out what to do. She asked, “Jen, who was that? Who were you talking to?”

Jen finally spoke, “Joe”

“Joe? Joe who?” Catherine asked.

“Joe. You know … JOE? Joe Maxwell … my husband,” Jen said, “Cathy? Oh my GOSH! Is that really you? I can’t believe this is happening. You’re DEAD! What is happening?”

Jenny’s phone began to ring again. When Jen answered Joe was yelling, “DON’T HANG UP THE PHONE, JEN! What is going on?”

Jen spoke very calmly, “Joe, I am standing here at the cemetery and I am looking right at Cathy Chandler. She looks pretty good for someone who has been dead for 25 years.”

Joe was very upset by this point. “Stay right there, Jen, I am coming down there right now! Don’t go ANYWHERE!” At this he hung up and raced out of the office.

Jen looked over at Cathy to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “Is that really you, Cathy? Joe is on his way over here. Can you wait here with me?”

Catherine nodded and she linked her arm with Jen’s and they walked over to the bench and sat down. They were both so shell shocked by the experience that they just sat there in silence for most of the time they waited for Joe.

Just before Joe arrived Catherine asked, “Wait … did you say Joe Maxwell is your husband?”

Jenny nodded and said, “mmm hmmm … we’ve been married for 24 years.”

Presently a taxi came into the cemetery and Joe jumped out and then he turned back to the taxi driver and said, “Wait right here, I will be right back.” He then came running over to where they were sitting. He could see that they were both just sitting there in silence. He leaned over to Jen and asked, “Are you okay, Jen?”

Catherine got up to leave. She said, “I’m really sorry, Jenny, I didn’t think anyone would be here. I didn’t mean to … I’m sorry, Joe. I won’t bother you again.” She began to walk away.

Jen called after her, “Cathy! Wait!”

Catherine stopped and turned back as Jenny ran up to her and threw her arms around her. Catherine wasn’t used to being touched let alone being hugged. She was a little overwhelmed by it for a second and then she put her arms around Jenny and hugged her like her life depended on it. As she pulled away she kissed Jenny on the cheek and turned without a word.

Joe called after her, “Hey, wait!”

Catherine heard him but she just walked faster. She needed to get away from there as fast as she could. As she walked away she exclaimed under her breath, “CRAP!” As she made her way back to Peter’s house she kept muttering to herself, “Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! CRAP!!”

When Catherine entered Peter’s apartment, he was waiting at the door.

“Cathy, I’m so glad you’re back. Dr. Michaels said he can see you at 4 o’clock. If we go right now we can make it.

Catherine tried to put him off. “Peter, I’m really tired. Can it wait?”

Peter was adamant. “Cathy, this can’t wait one more minute. I’m sorry, but I must insist.” He took her by the elbow and guided her right back out the door.

Catherine was too tired to argue. As the car pulled out of the parking garage, she just leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. She was lightly dozing when they finally arrived at the Neurological Institute of New York. As they approached the elevators Catherine took a deep breath.

Thinking out loud she said, “Okay Catherine, you can do this.” She nodded and said it again, “You can do this.” Then she shook herself all over as if to shake off all of her fears, much like a swimmer or a runner does just before a race. She took another deep breath and then marched herself through the elevator doors.

Peter quietly observed her doing this. He had marveled over the last few days at her ability to cope with the stresses of this whole situation. At times she appeared to be at a breaking point, and then she would gain strength from somewhere deep inside and seem fine. He wondered to himself how long she would be able to keep doing it.

Catherine opted to have Peter accompany her into the office. She needed him for moral support. As the entered the doctor’s office Dr. Michaels came forward to shake Peter’s hand.

“It’s good to see you, Mack,” Peter said. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice. This is Cici Chamberlain.” He said turning to Cici/Catherine.

Once the formalities were over Dr. Michaels looked quietly at the medical records Cici/Catherine had brought with her from Thailand. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“Before I tell you what I see here, Cici, I have a couple of questions for you,” he said.

Cici/Catherine nodded so he continued, “First, how are you feeling today? How are you doing emotionally?”

Cici/Catherine smiled a little and then shrugged, “I have a constant headache. But it isn’t too bad today. And considering my situation, I suppose I’m all right. Facing death has never really been on my list of favorite things to do, Dr. Michaels But you know what they say … ‘Life calls the tune, we dance.’ So I guess I’m here to ‘dance’.” She sounded calm but her right leg was constantly pumping up and down.

Then Dr. Michaels asked, “Can you tell me what the neurologist in Bangkok told you? How much of it did you understand?”

“To tell you the truth,” Cici/Catherine replied, “it was all such a shock … I remember words like; aneurysm, inoperable, fatal and get your affairs in order. It’s kind of a blur. All I really understood was that it was really bad.”

Dr. Michaels observed her tone as well as her body language and nodded thoughtfully and said, “Ok then. Let’s get down to business.” He paused for a moment and then said, “I don’t know exactly what the doctor in Thailand explained to you, so let’s start with what I am looking at here. What I see at first glance is what is called a saccular cerebral aneurysm. It’s also called a berry aneurysm.  Basically because of its shape and the narrow neck right here at the base where it is attached to the vein. I am also seeing a shadow that could be a second aneurysm on the CT scan. But I want to do an MRA, a Magnetic Resonance Angiogram to go along with this CT scan so I can get a better idea of what we are dealing with. If I can get you in tomorrow would that be all right?”

Cici/Catherine nodded. She was trying her best to stay focused. When the doctor in Thailand initially gave her the news she was unable to make sense of a lot of what he had said. It had taken her a few days to fully absorb the gravity of the situation and begin to make plans.

She responded to Dr. Michaels. “Yes, I’ll do whatever you think needs to be done. Can you tell me what your initial thoughts are on what you see? Is it inoperable?”

He was clearly weighing his words and taking his time to answer. Finally he said, “What I am looking at is definitely serious. The one that is clearly visible here is large and deep. In the past they were considered inoperable. We have some treatment options now that are showing a lot of promise. I know you must be frightened, but this doesn’t have to be a death sentence, Cici. I really don’t want to talk about it in depth before we get a better picture of the situation. The MRA will give us a lot more information. Let me find out if we can get you in tomorrow and then we can move forward from there.” He then left the office for a few minutes and came back with an appointment card. “Okay, we are all set up. Can you be here at 7:30 tomorrow morning? Why don’t you just meet me here at my office and we can go down there together. That will give us some time to talk. Okay?”

Cici/Catherine nodded again. Despite her efforts she was barely in control of her emotions. At times like this she found it best to speak as little as possible. She and Peter returned in silence to his house.

As they entered the house Peter said, “How about if we order Chinese?”

“I’m not really very hungry, Peter. It’s been a long day. I’m really tired,” she replied.

Peter wouldn’t let her off that easy. “You have to eat, Cathy. I have one job right now and that is to make sure you are fed and rested. Now don’t make me get ugly about this.”

Cathy smiled, “Okay, Peter, you win. Go ahead and order.”

Within an hour they were enjoying a wide variety of Chinese specialties. Catherine was laughing as she looked around. “Peter, I can’t believe you ordered this much food. It’s going to take us days to finish this.”

Peter laughed too. “It’s good to hear you laugh, Cathy. Can you blame me for worrying about you? I guess I just I want to make sure you keep up your strength. Anyway I didn’t know what you liked.”

Catherine smiled and said, “I don’t know what I would ever do without you, Peter.”

As they were speaking the doorbell rang. Catherine stiffened immediately. “Are you expecting someone?”

Looking at the clock Peter could see it was almost 8 o’clock. He got up to answer the door. “Certainly not at this hour.”

Catherine could hear a muted conversation. She thought she heard someone say her name. She was immediately nervous. For a moment she thought about making an exit to the roof, but then she was worried that she would leave Peter alone to face whoever it was. So she stood up, and went to see who it was. As she entered the living room she came face to face with Joe and Jenny Maxwell.

Peter had been trying to tell them he didn’t know where Catherine was when she walked in. She said, “It’s okay Peter. You don’t need to lie for me.”

Then turning to Joe and Jenny she said, “You found me. What can I do for you, Joe?”

Joe took a step forward and said, “Uh … Hey …Cathy…”

Jenny nudged him from behind and said, “Just say it, Joe.”

Joe tried again, “Cathy … I’m really sorry … you know … for the way I reacted to you the other day … at my office.”

Catherine didn’t know what to say. She leaned up against the door jam for support and finally said, “I’m sorry too, Joe. It must have been quite a shock. I just didn’t know who else to go to for help.”

Joe moved toward her as he began to talk, but he could see Catherine backing away so he went back to where he was standing before. There was an awkward silence.

Finally Catherine asked, “Why don’t you sit down?”

As they sat down Catherine found a seat as far away from everyone as she could and still be in the same room. It was evident to everyone how uncomfortable she was. Joe noted that she was rubbing her wrist with her thumb as if hurt.

After an awkward silence Catherine finally spoke. “I need to get my identity back, Joe. Is there any way I can do that?”

Joe thought before he replied, “People are going to have a lot of questions, Cathy. There might be a lot of publicity. Your murder was in all the papers. Is that going to be a problem?”

Catherine closed her eyes and said, “I was hoping it could be kept quiet. I want as few people to know about me as possible.” Seeing that Jenny caught her meaning she said, “Jenny, I’m sorry, but it isn’t safe for you to know me. If I had known that you and Joe were married I might not have gone to him. It’s just that I needed a lawyer and Joe was the only one I thought I could trust.”

To this Joe said, “I wish you could have trusted me 25 years ago.”

Catherine winced at this. “Joe, … It wasn’t about trust back then. People were dead because they cared about me, because they knew me. I didn’t want anyone else to die if I could help it.”

Joe said, “But, Cathy, Gabriel was dead. The danger was past.”

Catherine breathed in sharply when she heart that name. “Joe, he wasn’t the only one involved in all that. You must know that? He had people in the police department in the DA’s office and who knows where else. John Moreno was the one who betrayed me. And how did they get my body out of the Medical Examiner’s Office? Who did they do an autopsy on? Who is buried in my grave? I had no idea back then. I still have no idea how many people were a part of it. As far as I know there are still people who want me dead.”

Joe was a little agitated when he said, “Then why are you back here now if you still think there is danger?”

Catherine, closed her eyes and spoke softly, “I want to be buried next to my parents, Joe. With a headstone that has my name on it. You might have noticed that my grave appears to be occupied at the moment.”

Joe and Jenny both looked at her in surprise.

Catherine clarified, “I might be needing it soon ... and if I am going to die … I want to die with my own name. Is that asking too much?”

Jenny finally spoke, “Cathy? Are you saying …? What’s wrong?”

“An aneurysm … in my brain. I’m having some more tests tomorrow. I’ll know more after that,” Cathy replied.

Jenny moved closer to Catherine. “Oh Cathy! I’ll go with you.”

Shaking her head, Catherine was quick to reply, “Jenny, NO. I have to do this by myself. I have to face this alone. Anyway, if there is still any danger… I can’t be responsible for anyone else, Jenny. I know you love me, but you have to stay away from me.”

After a few moments of silence Catherine continued, “I know my death must have been very painful for you, for both of you. I wanted to keep this all quiet because I didn’t want the people I love to have to go through it all again. I’ve caused enough pain already. I’m sorry, Jenny. I’m sorry, Joe. You should both just go home and forget you ever saw me.”

“We can’t do that. What will you do, Cathy? How will you get your identity back?” Joe asked.

Catherine answered, “I should never have asked, Joe. It doesn’t really matter anyway. I was stupid to think that it could happen. I don’t want you to risk … Forget I ever asked.

Jenny protested, “Cathy, we can’t just go home and pretend that you’re still dead. And there is no reason why you should do this alone.”

“I can’t be responsible for any more deaths, Jen. If I’m still in danger, I have to stand alone,” Catherine insisted.

At this Joe said, “We are going to help you, Cathy. You don’t have a choice. So you might as well stop arguing. Anyway, I’m the reason you got tangled up in this mess in the first place. I am going to have to ask you a lot of questions. You may have to come down to the District Attorney’s Office for a deposition.”

At this Catherine balked. “NO, JOE! I am not going anywhere near the DA’s office or the Police Department. I don’t trust anyone but you.”

“Are you sure you can trust me?” Joe asked, remembering what she had said the night before in his office.

Catherine was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry I said that, Joe. You were always a good friend. I have to trust someone. I choose to trust you.” The fear in her eyes as she said this betrayed how difficult it was for her to let anyone into her isolated world. Even if it was someone she considered a friend. She had remained in a defensive posture in her chair throughout the entire conversation. She put her head down into her hands in resignation.

Jenny took this opportunity to storm Catherine’s defenses. She rushed forward and put her arms around her long lost friend. “I won’t let you do this alone, Cathy.”

Catherine recoiled at Jenny’s touch at first, almost as if it caused her pain, and then she reached up and returned her friends hug.

Peter finally entered the conversation, “I hate to break up this party, but Catherine has got to get some rest. She has a big day tomorrow and it’s going to start early.”

Looking at the clock they were all shocked at how late it was. As Catherine said goodnight to them at the door, Joe asked, “What if I come by here tomorrow night? You can answer some initial questions here, where you’re comfortable, and we can figure out where we will go from there.”

Catherine nodded. She was too tired to do anything else.

I Can See You In My Dreams

Later as she drifted off to sleep she could hear the opening movement of Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony. She found herself walking slowly through the tunnels. After some time she found her way to the waterfall. There was something healing in the sound of the rushing water. In her dream she closed her eyes and listened as the music and the water carried her away. It was the language of her soul. Everything she was unable to adequately put into words, the pain, the longing, the deep aching, the fear, even the joy and the love, was all so accurately expressed by each note, each movement of the music. As she listened she felt as if she was able to breathe. She felt free.

****

Vincent was restless. He couldn’t sleep. The walls of his chamber felt like they were closing in on him. When he was like this he would wander the tunnels alone. As he wandered the tunnels tonight he found himself nearing the waterfalls he had loved all of his life. He found the water soothing, especially when his mind was troubled. He could hear the distant strains of music coming from somewhere in the tunnels. As he came out of the tunnel that led to the falls he thought he could see someone sitting in his usual spot. When he looked closely he realized it was Catherine. (The Catherine he had been seeing lately in his dreams.) Over the years he had become accustomed to seeing her ghost from time to time. It was always a bit of a shock, but he welcomed it as well. He had learned that if he approached her carefully and silently he might be able to get more than just a glimpse of her. He could see that she had her eyes closed as she too listened to the music. He was close enough to touch her as he stood there mesmerized by her presence. As the last strains of music died away, he could see she had a serene smile on her face and a look of peace. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She froze as Vincent reached out his hand and touched her face. As his hand made contact with her she instantly disappeared and he was standing alone in the dark watching a small flame flickering in the wind. When he woke up in his chamber he realized he had been asleep the whole time … and yet … it had seemed so real that he could still feel the touch of her skin on his hand where he had touched her…

****

Wednesday July 23, 2014 Day 5

Catherine woke with a start. Her dream had ended suddenly when Vincent found her and reached for her. She put her hand to her cheek where Vincent had touched her. She could still feel his hand on her face. She was wide awake and could see that it was time to get up anyway.

Before stepping into the shower she removed the leather bracelet that she always wore on her wrist, revealing a faded scar on the inside of her wrist. A scar that she never spoke of and never allowed anyone to see. She rubbed it softly as if it still caused her pain.

When she came into the living room, Jenny was sitting there waiting for her. Catherine cocked her head a little and said, “Tell me you didn’t sit there all night, Jen?”

Jen laughed, “No, I didn’t sit here all night. But I was tempted to. I was afraid that if I left that you wouldn’t be here when I came back this morning. I was afraid that you were just another one of my dreams. If this is a dream Cathy, I am going to be really upset!”

Catherine smiled a little and said, “It’s not a dream, Jen. But sometimes it does feel like a nightmare.” She laughed a little and added, “If this is one of your dreams … then your dreams really suck …”

Jen laughed and said, “Hey, no they don’t! My best friend has been dead for 25 years and now she’s alive again. That’s sounds pretty good to me.”

Catherine countered with, “Not if I die again at the end.”

Jen scrunched up her face at that and said, “Oh … yeah … you’ve got a point there, Cathy. We need to work on the ending.”

Catherine nodded in agreement as they exited the apartment.

As they entered the medical building Catherine was overcome again by the panic that had hit her the day before. She stood in the foyer with her eyes closed and taking deep breaths. Again she repeated the words, “You can do this. You can do this.” When she opened her eyes she saw the look of concern on Jen’s face.

Jen asked, “Are you okay, Cath?”

Catherine nodded, “What choice do I have, Jen? I’m as okay as I am going to get. Let’s go,” she said as they headed for the elevators. On the way up to Dr. Michael’s office she whispered to Jen, “By the way, you can’t call me Cathy. I’m going by another name until I can get my identity back. So, Hi, I’m Cici Chamberlain.”

Jen smiled and held out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Jen. Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks, Jen.” Cici/Catherine said.

Jen looked confused and asked, “You’re welcome. … for what?”

Cici/Catherine said, “For being here for me. You always did know how to make me feel better.”

Dr. Michaels was waiting for them when they arrived. As they all walked to Radiology he described some of what they were going to do. He was surprised at how calm and resilient Cici seemed. He had no idea how much practice Cici/Catherine had had controlling her emotions over the years. He offered to give her a sedative to help her relax during the procedure. But Catherine hated the idea of the vulnerability of being sedated, so she refused.

A couple of hours later Cici/Catherine and Jen were on their way out of the Medical Center.

Point of No Return

Joe and Jen were back at Peter’s home that evening. Catherine was not eager to talk about what had happened to her. She had spent 25 years trying to forget it. But she was eager to finish what she had begun. She was having moments of doubt, but she recognized that turning back now was no longer a possibility.

Joe knew Catherine was reluctant to go to law enforcement, so he had come with a camera.

“Cathy, do you mind if we record this interview? We may need it later. This way you might have to talk about it less,” Joe asked.

Catherine agreed

As Joe started to record he stated, “Just for clarification this is not an official deposition. There is no court reporter present. This video will be for the use of me, Joe Maxwell, your lawyer and my office. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, just let me know and we can take a break. Okay?

Catherine nodded and said, “Yes.”

Joe: For the record would you please state your name?

Catherine: My name Catherine Chandler

Joe: Do you have any other names by which you are known? If so would you please state those names?

Catherine: Yes. I am also known as Cici Chamberlain.

Joe: Why are you here today?

Catherine: For the last 25 years I have been hiding and living under an assumed name. I am here to reclaim my identity.

Joe: Are you aware, Miss Chandler, that it has been assumed for the last 25 years that

Catherine Chandler is dead?

Catherine: Yes.

Joe: Are you aware, Miss Chandler, that a body that was positively identified as Catherine

Chandler was found in Catherine Chandler’s apartment on December 13th 1989.

Catherine: Yes I am aware of that.

Joe: If that body was not the body of Catherine Chandler, do you know who it was?

Catherine: It was Catherine Chandler. It was me.

Joe: Are you saying that the deceased body of Catherine Chandler that was found in her apartment was actually you?

Catherine: Yes.

Joe: Are you saying that the body of Catherine Chandler that was found in her apartment was you and that you were not actually dead?

Catherine: That’s correct.

Joe: Can you explain that and tell us how you came to be there?

Catherine: I was being kept somewhere else… I don’t know where for sure. It was somewhere in the city. It was a high rise with a helipad on the top. I was given and injection. I don’t know what it was. The doctor said I wouldn’t suffer. I thought I was going to die, but then I didn’t. Everything just went dark. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I felt someone carrying me in their arms. Whoever it was brought me to where I was found in my apartment. I was conscious and aware of the police and people around me talking. I remember someone said something like… “Bag her hands. We don’t want to lose anything.” And then I was lifted into a body bag. I tried to cry out, to tell them that I wasn’t dead. But I couldn’t. I can still hear the sound of the zipper…

Catherine closed her eyes at this point and shuddered.

Joe: Are you all right? Do you want to stop?

Catherine: No, Joe. I don’t want to stop.

Joe: Do you know the name of person or people who kidnapped you and held you captive?

Catherine: I don’t know the names of the men who kidnapped me except for one, John Moreno. He was the District Attorney. He was also my boss. But the name of the man who kept me prisoner and ordered my death was a man named Gabriel.

Joe: Did Gabriel have a last name?

Catherine: All I know is Gabriel.

Joe: Can you describe him?

Catherine: (shudders visibly) He was thin. I don’t know, maybe in his 40’s. He had brown hair, a thin face, hollow cheeks, dead eyes…. (her voice trailed off at the terror the memory invoked.)

Joe: Do you know why you were kidnapped?

Catherine: Gabriel thought I had information about a case I was working on. He wanted to know what I knew.

Joe: Do you remember which case it was?

Catherine: It was the Patrick Hanlan murder. I had a piece of evidence that I was researching. I guess I must have stumbled onto something. I’m not sure what.

Joe: Do you know what happened to that piece of evidence?

Catherine: (Silence)

Joe: Miss Chandler? Do you know what happened to that piece of evidence?

Catherine: I haven’t seen it, since I was abducted.

Joe: What did they do to you, Miss Chandler, after you were kidnapped?

Catherine: I was drugged repeatedly. I guess I didn’t tell them what they wanted to know.

Joe: Why did they keep you after they found out what you knew?

Catherine: (silence)

Joe: Are you aware that the autopsy report stated that you gave birth to a child shortly before your death?

Catherine: The autopsy report also said that I was dead, Joe.

Joe: Miss Chandler, did you give birth to a child while you were being held captive by the man you knew as Gabriel?

Catherine: (clearly becoming agitated) Yes.

Joe: Do you know what happened to the baby?

Catherine: He took him. Gabriel … took him. (She had tears in her eyes) As he left the room with my baby he said, “Finish it.” I heard a helicopter on the roof. Then the doctor gave me an injection and said, “You won’t suffer.”

Joe: What did you think the doctor meant?

Catherine: (She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she answered.) That I was going to die.

Joe: How did you get out of the morgue?

Catherine: I don’t know. I’m actually not sure I was ever in the morgue.

Joe: What is the next thing you remember?

Catherine: I woke up in a room … somewhere. I don’t know where.

Joe: Was it the same place you had been before?

Catherine: No. It didn’t seem the same. It felt like I was underground. It was quiet. I couldn’t hear the city sounds like before.

Joe: Can you describe it?

Catherine: It was a room. It was white. It had no windows. It had one door that was always locked. Cameras in the corners of the ceiling and a television monitor. A bed. A toilet and a sink.

Joe: Miss Chandler, if Catherine Chandler wasn’t murdered, who was? Do you have any idea who is buried in Catherine Chandler’s grave?

Catherine: (Shaking her head) I don’t know. I have no idea who is buried there.

Joe: Did you see or speak to anyone during your captivity after you were murdered?

Catherine: I saw the doctor and the nurse. They never spoke to me and I never spoke to them. Two or three times Gabriel came there. He spoke to me, taunted me. I never spoke to him.

Joe: What did Gabriel say to you? How did he taunt you?

Catherine: He told me about my funeral. He wanted to make sure I knew that I was dead, that the investigation was closed. He told me when he killed Elliot Burch. That Elliot was dead because he loved me, because he was weak. He said he could break me. I …. (she paused to regain her composure)

Joe: Are you all right? Do you want to stop for a moment?

Catherine: (shaking her head) No, Joe, I don’t want to stop.

Joe: Were you mistreated in any way during your captivity?

Catherine: (Looking at Joe in unbelief and answering sarcastically) I don’t know. Let’s see … I was violently kidnapped, drugged repeatedly, held in isolation for months, my baby was stolen from me as soon as I gave birth and then I was murdered, brought back to life and held captive again. I don’t know, some people might consider that “mistreatment”. What do you think?

Joe: (Clearing his throat and continuing) Cathy, can you tell me how you managed to escape?

Catherine: One day the nurse left the door to my room slightly open. I walked out and I was in a large basement. I saw a woman come out of a hole in the wall. I hid until she passed by me. I could see that she had a gun. I climbed into the hole in the wall and followed the pipe until I came out into some larger tunnels. Eventually I made my way up to the street.

Joe: Can you describe this woman?

Catherine: Long red hair. It was pulled back into a pony tail I think. She was wearing a trench coat.

Joe: Did you recognize this woman?

Catherine: (shaking her head) No.

Joe: Miss Chandler can you tell me what happened to your baby?

Catherine: (after a long silence) … No.

Joe: Miss Chandler did Gabriel kill your child?

Catherine: Joe … I don’t want to talk about this.

Joe: I know this is hard, but I need to know what happened to the child.

Catherine: He’s safe.

Joe: Did you escape with your child?

Catherine: (Clearly agitated) We escaped and he is safe.

Joe: Did you raise your child in hiding?

Catherine: My son was raised by his father. As far as I know they both believe that I am dead and they are safe.

Joe: When you say he was raised by his father, do you mean Vincent?

At this last question Catherine felt a jolt as if she was struck by lightning. She froze momentarily and stared at Joe in disbelief. After what seemed like a long pause she said, “Please turn it off, Joe. I’m finished answering questions.”

Joe: Cathy, I only have a couple more questions and then we can stop. Okay?

Catherine: (nods reluctantly)

Joe: How have you been able to hide all of these years?

Catherine: No one was looking for a dead woman. I left the country. I assumed another identity.

Joe: Miss Chandler, why did you continue to hide when the man who kidnapped you was already dead?

Catherine: What happened to me … was much bigger than one man, Joe. I know that the District Attorney was corrupt. I didn’t know who else was involved. Somehow my body was removed from the Medical Examiner’s office and replaced with someone else. It was much bigger than one man. I had no reason to believe that I was safe after Gabriel was killed. I felt that if I sought help from my friends they would also be in danger. I decided that anyone I cared about would only be safe if I was dead. So I stayed dead.

Joe: Miss Chandler, why are you back now? Why did you choose to reclaim your identity now?

Catherine: Because I am not getting any younger. Someday I will die, and when I do I would like to die with my own name. Whoever is buried in my grave deserves to have their identity back too. If there is still any danger … I suppose that is just a risk I have to take.

When Catherine thought that Joe had turned off the recorder she slumped into her seat and covered her face with her hands. She took several deep breaths but remained silent.

The room was uncomfortably silent. Finally Catherine spoke as if she was thinking out loud. “What am I doing? I’ve spent the last 25 years trying to protect the people I love and now I am putting them all in danger. I don’t think I can do this. They don’t deserve this.”

Turning to Joe she said, “Joe, I’m not sure I want to move forward with this.”

Joe came close and sat facing her. He spoke softly, “Hey, Cathy, I know this is hard, but what the people you love deserve is to have you back. They deserve to know the truth. You deserve to have your identity back. You deserve to have your life back. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. There is no reason to believe there is still any danger.”

Catherine shook her head. Raking her hands through her hair she looked toward the window and asked, “How can they ever want me back, Joe? How can they ever forgive? It’s going to cause so much pain.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “All I wanted to do was to die with my own name. I didn’t want to cause any more pain. There has already been too much pain." She appeared to be talking more to herself than to anyone in the room.

Joe came close to her and said, “Cathy, I promise you, I will try to keep this quiet. But if I can’t, I still believe this is the best thing to do. The truth should come out. It’s time for this all to end.

Catherine was quiet for a few minutes and then she reluctantly nodded and said, “Okay, Joe … Okay.”

Catherine stood up and Jen came forward to give her a reassuring hug. She embraced Jen tightly for a moment and went up to Peter’s roof top garden. When she left the room Joe quietly turned off the recorder.

Catherine loved this little oasis of green in the middle of the city. She felt like she could breathe up here. After showing Joe and Jen to the door, Peter came up to sit with her. She turned to Peter. His concern was evident on his face.

“Say it, Peter. I can see you want to,” she said.

Peter began, “I am really worried about you, Catherine. I’m afraid all of this is too much for you.”

Catherine nodded and smiled, “I know you are. But I think we have passed the point of no return. At this point I guess it is what it is. I’m sorry, Peter, for asking you to carry this all of these years. I can’t possibly ever repay you for your loyalty and friendship. Do you think I am doing the right thing?”

Peter was forthright when he said, “I think Joe is right, it’s time for all of this to end. You deserve to have your life back.”

Catherine smiled softly and said, “Hm … Whatever that means.”

As Joe and Jen got into the taxi to head home, Joe got on his phone.

Jen could only hear one side of the conversation.

Joe said, “Come on, Greg, answer the phone. … Hey, Greg, this is Joe Maxwell. … Yes, I am aware of what time it is. … I’m sorry, Greg, but this is important. … Can you meet me at my house in twenty minutes? ... I can’t explain it over the phone, Greg, but I promise you, this is something that can’t wait until tomorrow…..

Everything Hit’s the Fan

Thursday, July 24, 2014 Day 6

Catherine was restless from the time she woke up. She had tossed and turned most of the night. Waiting for the results of her MRA, waiting to find out if Joe could help her, worrying about the people she cared about were all taking their toll on her. She felt like she was in a whirlpool and she was having trouble keeping her head above water. She had learned from years of experience that the best way to overcome such feelings was to stay busy.

She took a refreshing cool shower and headed for the shelter. She was quiet in the kitchen as she chopped, and sliced and diced. She liked listening to the banter of the young people who lived there. They were older than most the children she had worked with in the orphanage but she noted how similar they were. When they were in a place where they felt comfortable and safe they let their guard down. Despite whatever struggles they had in their lives, they would laugh in unguarded moments. It gave Catherine strength to hear them laughing and joking with one another.

There were times when she fought the desire to feel sorry for herself, to mourn her unfulfilled dreams. But spending time here at the shelter helped her put things in perspective. She could see these young people defying the odds and overcoming their own personal tragedies and it humbled her. It made her reflect on the incredible blessings she had been given instead of dwelling on the sorrows.

As the lunch rush came to an end and Catherine prepared to leave she noticed someone watching her from the corner of her eye. As she faced the direction of the person who was watching her, she smiled when she realized it was just the custodian. He cocked his head and smiled back as if he was smiling at an old friend. It took Catherine off guard. Something about him seemed familiar.

She poked her head into Becka’s office. “Hey, Becka, is there anything you need before I take off?”

Becka looked up from her desk and smiled. “Thanks, Cici. How long have you been here?”

“A little over three hours,” she replied.

Becka smiled and said, “Then I guess you’re done for the day. Dr.’s orders.”

As her taxi pulled away she didn’t see Jake walking up to the shelter.

The taxi turned into the cemetery and Catherine could see vehicles everywhere: a back hoe, a coroner’s van, and a couple of local news vans with camera men and reporters. Several onlookers were looking curiously over the scene. Frightened by the crowd, she had the taxi driver take her back to Peter’s apartment.

When she entered Peter’s apartment Joe was standing there with Peter. They didn’t have to say anything. She knew. She sat down in the nearest chair as if all of the wind had just been knocked out of her and said, “I guess it’s all hit the fan.”

Joe looked terrible and said, “I am really sorry, Cathy. I tried, but it just took on a life of its own. I couldn’t control it.”

With her head resting in her hands Catherine said, “I believe you, Joe. Thank you for trying.”

“What are you going to do?” Joe asked.

It was clear how upset she was even though she was making an effort to remain calm. Catherine thought for a minute and said, “It’s only a matter of time before a reporter tracks Peter down here. I can’t be here when that happens. I need to get out of here. I need to think.”

She stood up and walked out the door without saying another word.

Back From the Grave

Late in the afternoon Jake was just signing in to his email account when a thumbnail picture and headline on the internet caught his eye. He thought he recognized the woman in the picture. He clicked on it to make the photo larger when he realized that he was looking at a photograph of his mother. The headline took his breath away.

Grave of Murdered Socialite Exhumed!

25 years after the disappearance and suspicious death of New York socialite and Assistant District Attorney, Catherine Chandler, her grave has been exhumed. Sources at the NYPD as well as the New York District Attorney’s Office report that there is a question as to the true identity of the woman buried at the St. Cleo’s Cemetery and formerly identified as Catherine Chandler.

Sources report that a woman has come forward claiming that she is actually the former socialite in question and that she has been in hiding for the last 25 years. She reportedly claims that she does not know who was buried in her place.

The casket of the woman in question has been delivered to the NYC Office of Chief Medical Examiner.

Miss Chandler was the only child of the prominent New York corporate attorney, Charles Chandler who died early in 1989. She was the sole heir of a sizable fortune which she left to Dr. Peter Alcott upon her death. Dr. Alcott has managed the Chandler estate and used the money to create the Catherine Chandler Charitable Foundation. The foundation in her name has funded a battered women’s shelter and a shelter for homeless youth in this city for many years. It has also reportedly funded an orphanage overseas. The foundation also regularly gives academic scholarships to deserving underprivileged youth.

Dr. Alcott has thus far been unavailable to comment on the matter.

Jake was completely flabbergasted. He felt as if the floor was giving way beneath him. How could this be possible? If his mother was alive all of these years, where has she been? Everything he knew about his mother told him that she never would have turned her back on his father or her own child. He quickly printed the article and headed for the tunnels. He needed to talk to his father before the news reached him some other way. As he rushed to meet with his father his mind was swirling with questions.

Vincent was well on his way to the Central Park entrance when he met up with Jake. He could sense something was wrong well before they crossed paths. When he saw the look on Jake’s face, his concerns only increased.

“What is it, Jacob? What’s happened? Is Rebecka all right?” Vincent peppered him with questions.

Jake was so distraught that he was unsure how to begin. He was pacing back and forth and trying to catch his breath.

Vincent put his hand on Jake’s shoulder and said, “Jacob? Take a deep breath.”

Jake took a deep breath and leaned up against the tunnel wall. Finally he just held out the article he had printed off to Vincent.

Vincent slowly reached out for it. He drew in his breath sharply when he saw Catherine’s photograph. As he read the article he became very still.

Jake finally spoke, “What does it mean, Dad? I can’t believe it.”

Vincent remained silent as he stared at the picture.

“Dad?” Jake asked again.

Vincent began to slowly walk back toward his chambers, holding the article in his hands. When they arrived at his chamber he sat down in his favorite old chair. He just sat there staring at Catherine’s picture.

“Dad, are you all right?” Jake was getting worried.

Vincent finally spoke, “Sometimes I … forget … how truly beautiful she was. I try not to think about that night. It’s too painful.”

Jake then asked, “So do you think this … this woman … could really be her?”

Vincent answered, “I just don’t see how it could be, Jacob. I was with her. I stayed with her until ... and yet …”

“And yet what, Dad?” Jake pressed him.

Vincent then spoke, “Lately…  I’ve had dreams … impressions … old feelings. Several days ago I saw a woman in the cemetery at Catherine’s grave.”

“What are you saying, Dad?” Jake was clearly agitated.

“I’m saying I don’t know what to think, Jacob.” Vincent was very troubled.

Jake suddenly had a thought, “Dad, that article says that she left her fortune to Peter Alcott. He’s a helper. Do you think he knows anything about this woman who is claiming to be her?”

Vincent thought for a moment and said, “It would probably be a good idea to find out. I can go to him and ask him if he knows anything about this woman.”

Vincent was concerned about Jake. He asked, “Jacob, are you all right? What are you thinking?”

Jake answered, “I honestly don’t know. I never knew her, Dad. You did. I remember an angel singing to me in my dreams. Fleeting glimpses of a ghost that I assumed was her. Was she the kind of person that would have just turned her back on you, on us? Would she have abandoned her own child?”

Vincent shook his head, “No, Jacob. Catherine was the most giving, loving person I have ever known. She would never have left us. The last thing she did before she died was tell me how beautiful you were. The love in her voice …” Vincent closed his eyes and could see her face. He could almost feel the touch of her hand on his cheek. “… it broke my heart.”

The memory of that moment was so real, so painful that Vincent felt physical pain.

Jake could see what the conversation was doing to his father. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t want to cause you pain. But I didn’t want you to hear about this from someone else.”

Vincent said, “This isn’t your fault. I don’t understand what is happening, but whatever it is, we need to find it out. I’ll go tonight and speak with Peter.”

Peter wasn’t surprised when he found Vincent standing on his balcony.  Peter invited him in. They stood at opposite sides of the room looking at each other.

Even though Peter was pretty sure he knew why Vincent was there he asked, “Vincent, what can I do for you?”

Vincent placed the article that Jake had brought to him on the table. Peter looked at it and nodded. “It didn’t take long for you to get this news.”

Vincent said, “Jacob brought it to me as soon as he saw it. He didn’t want me to hear it from someone else. Do you know anything about this, Peter? Who is this woman that’s claiming to be Catherine?”

Peter was wondering how much he could tell Vincent without breaking his promise to Catherine. Finally he decided that he would answer whatever questions Vincent had.

“It is Catherine, Vincent,” he said.

Vincent was shocked into silence for a moment and then began to shake his head. “That is not possible, Peter. I was with her when she died. What makes you believe that this woman is her?”

Peter quietly said, “Because I’ve been helping her hide for the last 25 years. There is no doubt that it is her.”

Vincent just looked at Peter in disbelief. He felt like the room was beginning to spin. Slowly he said, “No … it is not possible, Peter. I was there when she died. How can this be?”

Peter tried to explain. “I’m not really sure, Vincent. I don’t think Cathy even knows for sure. All I know is that around the same time you brought Jacob home to the tunnels … there she was … one night … standing there at my door… in the middle of the night. She collapsed in my arms. You should have seen her, Vincent. She was wearing a filthy white hospital gown and slippers. She was just a shadow of herself. She couldn’t have weighed more than 95 pounds. She could barely speak. When I told her that I was going to contact Father, she became hysterical. She insisted that I couldn’t tell anyone. That if anyone knew she was alive, you would all be in danger. She was very ill. She was incoherent and barely conscious for several days. I wasn’t sure if she was even going to live. When she came to herself again she was resolved to get as far away from New York as she possibly could. She said it was the only way to protect you and your baby.”

Vincent’s head was swimming with questions. He began by asking Peter, “Where had she been for all of that time?”

Peter answered, “Gabriel had her. I don’t know a lot of the details.”

Vincent continued, “How did she get away from him?”

Peter looked at Vincent as if he was surprised and said, “She told me that you showed her the way out.”

Vincent looked very confused so Peter continued, “She said that she saw you disappear into a pipe in the basement with the baby in your arms. She followed you into the pipe and found her way out through the tunnels. Somehow she found her way to me. I don’t know what would have happened to her if she hadn’t come to me.”

Vincent was silent for a long time. He was struggling to make sense of it all. “Why is she here now? How long has she been back? Where is she?”

Peter put his hands up, “Whoa, slow down, I can only answer one question at a time. She’s been back in New York for about a week. She’s staying here, with me.”

Vincent stood up straight and leaned toward Peter and asked, “She’s here? Peter, I must speak with her.”

Peter shook his head. “She was very upset when she realized this was all going public. She left here several hours ago. I’ve been waiting up hoping she would come back. I’m very worried. Vincent, she isn’t the Catherine you remember.”

“What do you mean?” Vincent asked.

Peter was careful with his answer. “Sometimes she seems so … fragile, like she could shatter at any moment. And then she reaches somewhere deep inside of herself and she seems … like steel, like she could withstand anything that comes her way. It’s astounding to see. I don’t know how she’s doing it, Vincent. I don’t know how long she can keep doing it. I’m very worried about her.”

“Is that all? Vincent pushed.

“She’s very quiet. She rarely speaks unless she’s spoken to and there are things she refuses to talk about. And she doesn’t like to be touched. I’ve noticed that even when she seems … fine … she goes out of her way to avoid being touched by anyone. It’s as if touching another person causes her physical pain,” Peter explained.

Vincent continued asking questions. “Has she asked about me or Jacob?”

Peter was hesitant to answer. “She hasn’t asked anything about anyone … ever. She didn’t even know Jacob’s name until very recently. She thought it would be harder to stay away if she knew anything about you. She didn’t want you to know she was here, because she felt it would only cause you more pain.”

Vincent was more confused by the answers than he was before he asked the questions. “I need to see her, Peter, to believe it’s true. I don’t understand how it’s even possible. She died in my arms. Are you sure? … Are you sure it’s really her? The Catherine I knew … she … would never have left her own child behind.”

Peter wasn’t sure what to say, “I have no doubt that it is her, Vincent. She was adamant that you would both be better off, safer, without her. I tried to reason with her, but whatever happened to her, it convinced her that you would always be in danger if she were here. She blames herself for everything, Vincent … everything that happened.”

“Then why is she back now?” Vincent asked.

Peter felt that he had said enough so he said, “That is something that you will have to ask her yourself. You used to have a connection with her. Don’t you have any sense of her at all?”

Vincent thought for a moment. “I have had some feelings lately that reminded me of her. They were fleeting. I’ve had some dreams about her too. I couldn’t make sense of them. I might have an idea where she might be. Thank you, Peter.”

As Vincent left Peter’s house he felt more confused than he had before he had arrived. He tried to calm his mind and heart as he headed for the last place he thought he had seen her. He was sure now that the woman he had seen at the cemetery several days before must have been her.

As he approached Catherine’s grave he could see that the open pit was surrounded by yellow tape. She was there with her back to him, sitting at the edge of the hole in the ground. He watched her for several minutes without knowing what to say.

Dark Reunion

Catherine had wandered the streets of the city for several hours. Her heart was troubled. Her mind was in turmoil. Vincent was sure to know soon, if he didn’t already know. How much pain would this cause him? She had only wanted to die quietly without causing more pain. Now she wasn’t sure why she had ever thought that it would be possible. Eventually she found herself at the cemetery. She found some comfort being near her parents.

As she sat there at the edge of her own open grave wondering how soon she would be its occupant. She was unaware of someone coming up behind her. She jumped a little when she heard a familiar voice begin to softly recite a poem she was familiar with….

As Vincent spoke he could feel an overwhelming sadness coming from her and washing over him.

“Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry ….”

His voice stopped at the last line so Catherine finished with, “I am not here; I did not die.”

Vincent spoke first. “But you did die. I was there. I held you in my arms. I remember every excruciating moment. Your spirit has wandered our tunnels for years. I don’t understand how this … how this can be … possible.”

Catherine was reluctant to breathe. She didn’t want to turn around and look at Vincent. What if she was only dreaming and if she turned around he was gone? What if it wasn’t a dream? Would she see the years of pain in his face that she had caused? She didn’t know how to explain to him why she had done all that she had done or the choices she had made.

Standing this close to her, Vincent could now feel her inner turmoil. There was no denying that it was Catherine. He had never had a connection like that with anyone else. Even so, he didn’t know what to say. And yet, he had so many questions.

Vincent finally broke the silence. “Are you planning to move in there anytime soon?”

Catherine jumped a little at this question. What did he know? she asked herself. She finally replied, “What makes you ask that?”

Vincent replied, “I can see from here that you already have one foot in the grave.”

Catherine looked down and realized that she did indeed have one leg dangling into the edge of the open grave. She smiled wryly and flippantly said, “hmm … I suppose I do. I have been looking for new ‘digs’. There appears to be a vacancy.”

“Why are you here?” Vincent asked.

Then she answered more seriously, “I was just trying to imagine … what it will be like … when …”

“I meant here in New York. Why now? After all this time?” Vincent interrupted to clarify.

Catherine tried to explain. “I’ve been a ghost for a long time. I was able to live without my identity, without my name. But I recently realized that I can’t bring myself to die without it. I want to be buried here, next to my parents. They know who I am and they loved me to their very last breath. I want there to be something left behind that proves that I … existed … that I did live … even if it is only a headstone.”

Vincent then asked, “Is something wrong with you, Catherine?”

Catherine closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drinking in the sound of his voice as he spoke her name. There was no more reason to hide the truth, any of the truth. “I have … an aneurysm in my brain. It’s a ticking time bomb. I just don’t know what time it’s set to.”

“So you didn’t come back for … me? For us?” Vincent asked, trying to hide his pain.

At the question Catherine felt a wave of sadness wash over her. He felt it too. She answered almost in a whisper, “No, Vincent, I didn’t come back for you or for Jake. I think it’s too late for that. Don’t you?” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to steady herself and then she continued. “I was hoping to die quietly without causing you any more pain. I guess I was foolish to think that was even possible.”

Vincent had come around to the front of her because he wanted to see her face. He wanted to see if she was the woman he had seen in his recent dreams. He could see that she was. He could see that she was wearing the crystal he had given her so long ago.

“I can feel your sadness, Catherine, but I don’t feel any fear in you. Aren’t you afraid?” Vincent asked.

“Afraid? … Of what?” Catherine asked, finally looking up at him.

“Death?” Vincent said

Catherine was very still. Her face showed little emotion. She said, “Fear is a useless emotion, Vincent. It has never served me well. Anyway … I … am … acquainted with death. I’ve been dead for a very long time.”

“More than once fear saved your life,” Vincent countered.

“At what cost, Vincent? At what cost? It may have saved me, but I nearly destroyed you…. I have no use for it.”

Not fully understanding what she meant he asked, “Then you never feel fear at all?”

Catherine closed her eyes and shook her head, “Most of the time I try not to let myself feel anything,” she admitted.

“Catherine, I know you…. I … knew you. That isn’t how your heart was made. How can you do that?” Vincent asked.

Catherine’s laugh was tinged with a little bitterness as she answered, “Lately not very well. I can’t seem to keep a handle on it these days.” As she spoke she rubbed her forehead in an effort to push her feelings back. “I’m sorry … about that.”

She stood up and changing the subject she said, “Vincent, you shouldn’t be here. You should stay far away from me. It isn’t safe. I’m not safe. It’s you that should be afraid. It’s better if you just go home and tell yourself that I’m still dead.”

At this Vincent reached out to her and said, “Catherine … How can I …?”

Catherine instantly pulled away and said with panic in her voice, “Don’t … touch me!”

Seeing the surprise and pain in his face she quickly explained, “If you touch me, Vincent … I’ll wake up … and you’ll be gone.”

Vincent was very confused. “Catherine? … Do you think I’m a …that this is a … dream?”

Catherine looked intently at him and slowly shaking her head said, “I’m not really sure.” She looked at him for a few moments. She smiled slightly, her eyes filling with tears and then said, “If you are a dream … you’re a beautiful dream.” She closed her eyes and with her voice trailing off said, “After all … ‘All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream’ …”

As she spoke those last words Vincent could see tears begin to escape through her closed eyes. She quickly wiped them away. She looked at him with the pain clearly visible on her face. She knew she was losing control and she knew that her pain caused him pain. She put both hands to her head and said, “You have to stay away from me. I’m sorry, Vincent, I’m sorry.” He had seen her do this before, when he saw her spirit in his chamber. She started to walk away backwards, as if she didn’t want to take her eyes off of him. Then she turned around abruptly and walked quickly away.

As he sat there Vincent could feel her pain washing over him. There was now no doubt in his mind that this woman was definitely Catherine. Their encounter had opened the floodgates and she had lost control of her emotions. Now the flood was washing over them both.

After several minutes Vincent could feel it subsiding and soon he couldn’t feel any trace of her at all. He marveled at the strength it must be taking for her to control her emotions like that.

****

Returning to the tunnels Vincent pondered all of the words he and Catherine had exchanged. Her words and the sound of her voice continued to echo in his mind “… an aneurysm in my brain … It’s you that should be afraid … I nearly destroyed you … I try not to feel anything … If you are a dream …you’re a beautiful dream … All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream … You have to stay away from me.”

As he entered his chamber he could see Jacob sitting there waiting for him. He jumped up when he saw his father.

“Were you able to speak with Peter? What did he say? Who is this woman?” He bombarded his father with questions.

Vincent held up his hand as if to stop the onslaught. Jake stopped and waited for his father to speak.

At length Vincent nodded his head and said, “It is Catherine. It’s true. She is alive.”

Jake was taken aback. He couldn’t believe it. “How can you know that, Dad? What makes you so sure? Only a few hours ago you were sure that it couldn’t be her.”

Vincent looked directly at Jake as he answered. “I’ve seen her. I’ve spoken with her. There is no doubt that it is her.”

Jake was silent. There were so many thoughts and emotions swirling in his head that he didn’t know what to do with them. He began pacing. The look on his face concerned Vincent. Every emotion he was feeling was clearly discernable, confusion, disbelief, betrayal, anger, pain.

Finally he stopped pacing and turned to his father and asked, “So everything? … everything I have ever known or believed about my mother was a lie?”

Vincent replied, “No, Jacob.” Vincent stopped. He didn’t know how to reply. “I don’t understand. I don’t know how it’s even possible….” His voice trailed off.

Jake interjected, “What did she say? Where has she been? How could she do that? She just turned her back on you? … on us? What kind of a person does that?”

Vincent was quiet. He just shook his head and said, “I don’t know, Jacob. I could see that she is in a lot of pain. She’s ill. She said I should stay away. That I should be afraid of her.”

Jake asked, “Did she even ask about me? Did she even care what has happened to the child she just walked away from?”

Vincent was silent so Jake continued, “So, why is she back now? Is she back here for us? Does she want to be back in our lives?”

Vincent shook his head and said, “No. She said that I should come back here and pretend she was still dead. She said she didn’t want cause me any more pain.”

Jake sat down. He suddenly felt very tired. After a time he said, “I’ve spent my whole life loving the ghost of my mother and it was all a lie? All a figment of my imagination? Just a child’s fairy tale. You’ve spent the last 25 years loving a memory of someone that didn’t even exist? Who was that ghost, Dad? Who have we seen wandering these tunnels?”

Vincent answered, “I don’t know, Jacob. I still believe it was her. But nothing makes sense to me right now. None of the pieces fit.”

Jake said, “So what now? What does it all mean to us?”

Vincent shook his head again and answered, “She asked me to stay away, but I don’t think I can. Not until I understand. She was in such pain. I could feel it washing over her like a flood.”

Jake was surprised. “How can you say that? How can you still be concerned about her? She turned her back on us and never looked back. And now you’re worried about her?”

Vincent said, “We don’t know that Jacob. There has to be a reason. The Catherine I know … the Catherine I knew … would never have just walked away. We went through too much. We endured too much for her to just throw it away. There has to be an explanation.”

Jake was too upset to listen to any more. He rose to leave. “You do what you want to, Dad. I can’t deal with this. I’m so angry right now to even think straight.” He put his arm on his father’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Vincent nodded and said, “I love you Jacob.”

“I love you too, Dad.” Jake said as he left.

No Rest

After leaving Vincent, Catherine had found a quiet place to catch her breath. The wave of emotions that was washing over her was difficult to get back under control. She wasn’t used to feeling anything as intensely as she had just experienced. Once she felt more in control of herself, she found her way back to Peter’s house.

Luckily Peter had fallen asleep in his chair while waiting up for her. At least she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone else tonight. She found a blanket to cover him up, turned out the lights and went to her room. She just wanted to sleep, to leave all of her cares behind…

…but that was not to be. All of her cares followed her into her dreams.

Catherine found herself standing alone in the dark. She could see a small light in the distance like a flame flickering in the wind. As she approached it she saw the face of evil from years ago saying, “You do know you’re dead don’t you?” Then he laughed and said, “At least to anyone who ever cared.” “You do know you’re dead ….?” Then she could see the doctor in Thailand as he said, “It’s inoperable, probably fatal” she could hear a child crying. As she approached the sound of the child she could see Candy as she cried out, “Cici อยู่ที่ไหน Cici ของฉัน” “Cici, Where is my Cici?” in the midst of children taunting her. She could see Jake. On his face was an expression of confusion, anger and pain. She heard the pain in Vincent’s voice as he asked, “So you didn’t come back for … me? for us?” Then she heard his voice again as he said, “… but you did die, you did die, you did die…”

A Ray of Hope

Friday, July 25, 2014 Day 7

Catherine woke up before the dawn. She had found no rest, no refuge and no strength in her dreams. Sitting on the roof she watched the day break through heavy grey clouds. The air in the garden was heavy with the scent of honeysuckle, wet earth and rain. Catherine found it soothing as she drank it in. She wasn’t sure how long she had been up there when Peter joined her.

Peter was shocked by Catherine’s appearance. She looked like she was at her breaking point. His concern was evident on his face. They sat in silence for some time as Catherine stared out at the city skyline.

Finally Peter broke the silence. “Vincent was here last night.”

Catherine continued to stare straight ahead as she nodded in response.

“Did he find you?” Peter asked.

She nodded again. It was taking every ounce of energy that she had to keep the storm within her under control.

“Do you want to talk about it, Cathy?” he asked tentatively.

She still didn’t speak. She just continued to stare straight ahead as she shook her head.

“We need to leave for your appointment with Dr. Michaels in an hour,” he said.

Catherine nodded again and left the roof without speaking.

While Catherine showered, Peter called Jen Maxwell. “Jenny, I need your help. Cathy isn’t doing very well. I’m really worried. She looks exhausted. She hasn’t said a word since yesterday afternoon. She has a doctor appointment this morning but there are reporters waiting out on the street.”

“What can I do, Peter?” Jenny sounded worried.

Peter had a plan. “Can you come over here, Jenny, and try to get her to eat something before her appointment? I can try to distract the reporters out front while you two leave by the back entrance.”

Jenny responded, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

By the time Catherine came into the living room Jen was sitting there. Catherine smiled a little. “Peter called you?” she asked.

Jenny nodded and said, “He’s going to run interference for us with the reporters out front so I can get you to your appointment.”

Catherine nodded, “Is that all?” she asked suspiciously.

Jenny smiled and said, “No. He’s worried about you. So am I, Cathy. Do you think you can eat something?”

Catherine nodded in resignation and said, “If it makes you feel better, I can try.”

They both went into the kitchen. Jen chatted cheerily as Catherine picked at a piece of toast and some peppermint tea. Halfway through her toast she looked at her watch and said, “We’d better get going.”

In the taxi they were both silent. Catherine found solace in the pouring rain. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sound of the rain and the rhythm of the windshield wipers and the honking horns of the other cars. There was a certain music to it that had a calming effect on Catherine.

Jen was reluctant to break the silence between them so she reached out to hold Catherine’s hand. Catherine was surprised by the touch and quickly pulled her hand away as if it had been slapped. It drew her out of her private reverie and she opened her eyes and looked at Jen as if she just realized she was there. Jen looked hurt and worried about her friend.

“I’m sorry, Jen,” she said.

“I don’t know what to do, Cath. What can I do?” Jen asked almost in tears.

Catherine was quick to answer. “You’re here, Jen. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Jen was near tears as she spoke. “What happened to you, Cathy? You hardly speak. You don’t like to be touched. When I reach out to you it’s as if I’m hurting you.”

Catherine tried to explain, “Jen, you are the closest thing I have ever had to a sister. I love you. I have missed you so much over the years. It’s just that I’m not used to letting people close enough to touch me. I've kept my distance from almost everyone for 25 years.”

It was quiet for a minute and Catherine reached for Jen’s hand. As she squeezed Jen’s hand she said, “I am so grateful you’re here, Jen.”

They went the rest of the way in silence.

Standing at the elevator, Catherine gave herself the same pep talk that she had at her other appointments. As the elevator doors began to close someone stuck their arm in the door. The doors reopened and two men in business suits got on. Catherine could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She suddenly had a flashback to the day she was kidnapped.[38] She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She stuck her arm in the elevator doors just before they closed and jumped out, dragging Jenny with her.

She leaned up against the wall for support. She was holding her chest trying to catch her breath.

Jen was alarmed as she tried to approach Catherine. She put her hand on Catherine’s shoulder and said, “Cathy?”

Catherine jerked quickly away from her and dashed out the door into the fresh air.

Not knowing what else to do, Jen stayed with her until her breathing became steady. When Catherine finally looked up she could see how afraid Jen was. She took a deep breath and said, “I’m really sorry, Jen.”

“Oh, Cathy.” Jen shook her head, “I’m so sorry… I don’t know how to help you.”

Catherine approached Jen and hugged her friend. “You are helping me, Jen, more than you’ll ever know…. I think I’m ready to try again. How about you?”

They both laughed a little and headed for the elevators.

****

Deep in the tunnels Vincent was describing to Father his encounter with Catherine in the cemetery when he was so overpowered by Catherine’s panic attack that he was momentarily paralyzed. He grabbed his chest and couldn’t breathe. By the time he got a hold of himself he was going to run to save her when he felt her fear subsiding until he couldn’t feel her at all.

Father was clearly frightened by what he had witnessed. “What is happening, Vincent? Do you know? Can you tell me?”

Vincent tried to explain as much as he knew. “I’m not sure how she is doing it, but somehow she is controlling her emotions. She told me she tries not to feel anything at all. But sometimes she can’t do it. It’s getting harder for her. I’m not sure what happened just now. The fear … I’ve never felt anything like that from her before. It was so intense … and now I don’t feel anything at all.”

“Is she in danger?” Father asked.

Vincent shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t tell. I don’t have any sense of her now or even where she is.”

Father couldn’t hide his concern as he asked, “Are you going to see her again?”

Vincent responded, “She asked me to stay away. She said I should be afraid. I don’t think I can … stay away. At least not until I understand.”

Father pleaded with him, “But Vincent, if she told you to stay away … perhaps she is trying to protect you.”

Vincent was quick to answer. “She’s ill, Father. She may be dying. How can I leave her alone with that? If it were Margaret[39] could you?”

Father had no reply.

****

Joe arrived at the NYC Office of Chief Medical Examiner at 8 am sharp. He insisted that he be in attendance when the seal was broken on the exhumed casket from Catherine Chandler’s grave.

As he opened the door and let a woman pass through.

“Thank you,” she said.

Her voice sounded vaguely familiar. Looking more closely, he realized it was an old colleague. “Diana Bennett? Is that really you?”

Turning back at the sound of her name, she answered, “Joe? Joe Maxwell? It’s been a long time, Joe,” she said smiling and extending her hand to him.

“I thought you retired, Diana. What brings you here?” he asked.

“You’re right, I retired a few years back. I’m still a consultant for the NYPD from time to time. Greg Hughs called me in to consult on an old case of mine that’s been reopened.” She cocked her head a little as if she had just realized something. Continuing, she said, “Actually, it’s the Catherine Chandler case. Is that what brings you in here too?”

Joe nodded, “Yes. I guess we better get up there then. It’s really good to see you, Diana.”

They turned together and headed for the elevator.

Dr. Becker, the Medical Examiner, came down the hall right on time. He looked around and asked, “Is everyone here?”

Joe looked around. The Chief of Police, check. The District Attorney, check. Police Department videographer, check. Court Recorder, check. Just as he was about to reply the Police Chief said, “All present and accounted for. Now let’s get started.”

They followed Dr. Becker and his assistant into the examination room. The air was charged with anticipation.

Dr. Becker handed everyone a surgical mask and said, “If any of you are squeamish you may want to put some of this under your noses. This will not smell like a bouquet of roses.” As he held out a jar of Vicks VapoRub.

Joe was quick to accept the offer. He could feel his heart rate increasing and his blood pressure rising. He thought he had put one of the worst experiences of his life behind him a long time ago. But memories of Catherine’s disappearance and death were as fresh to him now as if it had happened yesterday. Even though he knew that Catherine Chandler wasn’t in the casket, he couldn’t get the memory of her death and funeral and all the pain associated with it out of his head.

Everyone moved closer as the casket lid was lifted. The expression on every face as they realized what they were looking at was one of disbelief.

****

When Dr. Michaels took Catherine and Jen into his office he expressed his surprise that Peter was not present for the meeting.

“I thought Peter would be here with you today, Miss Chamberlain,” he said.

Cici/Catherine replied vaguely, “He is going to join us as soon as he can.”

Dr. Michael’s nodded, “All right then. Should we get started?”

Cici/Catherine said, “I’m as ready as I’m going to get.”

Just then Peter arrived a little out of breath.

Cici/Catherine tried her best to concentrate on everything the doctor said.

He dove right into it. “Cici, I’m going to give you the worst news first and then I will give you the good news. Okay?”

Cici/Catherine nodded and asked, “So there is good news?”

Dr. Michaels smiled and said, “There is definitely good news. I need you to hold onto that while we go over this MRA. Okay? Because this can be a little frightening.”

As he continued he noticed that Jen and Cici/Catherine were holding hands. “Do you have a good support system of family and friends, Cici?”

“She has good friends, Dr. Michaels,” Jen interjected.

“Good, because she is going to need them in the coming weeks and months,” he replied.

“Ok then,” he said. He then went on to describe the test results. “What I see on this MRA is that you do have three distinct and separate saccular berry aneurysms. Two of them are medium sized. They are here and here. This one here is about 6 centimeters. And this one is borderline, 15 centimeters. If it was just a little larger it would be a considered large. Now this large one is the one that is causing the most concern. This is probably the one that is causing your headaches. This one is 18 centimeters and it’s in a tricky spot. You have probably had these for many years and they have slowly gotten bigger.”

Jen was getting impatient. “Is the good news coming soon?”

Dr. Michaels was patient. He was used to working with people who were scared. He nodded, “The good news is that I believe they are treatable. There is a good chance that we can get to these before they rupture.”

Cici/Catherine finally spoke. “What are my options? What are my chances?”

Dr. Michaels explained, “You have two options for treatment. The first is called coiling. We would insert a catheter into a major blood vessel in your hip. We would thread a catheter through your blood vessels up to your brain. We would then thread platinum coils up to the aneurysm and coil the wire into the aneurysm until it’s full. The blood in the sac or “berry” will then form a clot and effectively remove the danger of a rupture. This method is very effective with most aneurysms. But the larger the aneurysm is, the less successful this method is.”

Cici/Catherine was trying to understand everything he was saying. She nodded and asked, “What is my second option?”

He continued, “The next option is called clipping. We would perform a craniotomy. It would involve removing a piece of your skull and very carefully going into your brain to insert a clip at the neck of the aneurysms and basically cut off the blood supply. The aneurysm will just shrivel up. The risk with this procedure is there could be some brain injury during the surgery and the recovery time is longer. The up side is that for the large aneurysm here it has the best possibility of success.”

Dr. Michaels was silent for a few minutes to give Cici/Catherine a chance to absorb all of the information. Then he asked, “Do you have any questions, Cici?”

“What are my chances of surviving the surgery and the prognosis down the line?” Cici/Catherine asked. Her voice was subdued, almost a whisper. The doctor was offering her a lifeline, but she was afraid to reach for it. She was afraid to hope.

Dr. Michaels measured his words carefully. “If you receive treatment before there is a rupture your chances are very good with coiling for the two smaller ones. However with this large aneurysm the long term outcome with coiling is not as good. There is a good chance you will still have a bleed in the future. If you don’t take care of this big one your long term chances for survival are … poor.”

He paused for a moment to let the words settle in the room and then he continued, “You need to know that if a bleed occurs before you have surgery, your prognosis would be very grave. The degree of brain injury will be significantly worse. If this big one ruptures, your chances of survival will be drastically reduced. In all honesty, you probably wouldn’t even make it to surgery.”

“How would I know, if I had a rupture? Catherine asked.

His answer was serious, “If a bleed occurs, you would probably have what we commonly call ‘a thunderclap headache’. It is a sudden severe headache, pain beyond anything you have ever felt in your life.” Turning to Jen, he said, “If this happens, she needs to get to the hospital as fast as possible. The more time that passes, the more brain damage will occur.”

Jen nodded as she squeezed Catherine’s hand.

“What is your recommendation?” Cici/Catherine asked.

Dr. Michaels was glad to give her his opinion. “I personally think that you should have surgery as soon as possible. I also think that for your particular situation, clipping is your best option.”

Cici/Catherine turned to Peter and asked, “Peter, I value your opinion. What do you think?”

Peter was careful with his answer, “I trust Dr. Michael’s opinion and I trust his skill. If you have any chance of surviving this, Cathy, I think it’s with Mack.”

Cici/Catherine nodded and looked straight ahead without really seeing anything as she thought. She was nodding periodically as she weighed her options. Finally she nodded emphatically and said, “Okay then, let’s do this.”

An hour later all the papers were signed and the arrangements were made. As Jen and Catherine stepped out of the building the heavy clouds that had been hanging over the city all morning began to break and a sunbeam broke through the clouds.

Jen exclaimed, “Cathy, look! It’s a sign. You’re going to be okay, Cathy.”

Catherine took a deep breath, looked toward Jen and nodded with a half-smile.

“Are you coming back with me, Catherine?” Peter asked

“No Peter, I think I want to avoid the reporters as long as I can. If that’s all right with you?” she replied.

Peter agreed and even though he knew she wouldn’t like it, he hugged her and whispered in her ear, “It’s all going to be all right, Cathy. You need to believe that.”

She smiled weakly and returned his hug. “Thank you, Peter, for being here for me … for always being here.”

The Eye of the Storm

Climbing into the taxi Jen tried to cheer Catherine up. She asked, “So what are our plans for the rest of the day, Cathy? What should we do next?”

Cathy smiled, “I don’t need a babysitter, Jen. I’m fine.”

Jen looked doubtful. Her cell phone started to ring. Answering it she said, “Hi, Honey. Yes … yeah, she’s still with me. Sure. Hold on.” She handed the phone to Catherine and said, “It’s for you.”

Catherine took the phone. “Joe?”

“Cathy, can you come down to my office? I’m still at the Medical Examiner’s office but I’ll be leaving soon.”

Cathy was immediately concerned. “What is it, Joe? Who was it? Who was buried in my grave?”

Joe just said, “Cathy, I want to talk to you face to face. Can you just meet me at my office?”

“We just got in a taxi, we’ll come straight there,” she replied and handed the phone back to Jen.

Twenty minutes later Catherine and Jen were sitting in Joe’s office. Looking around she could hardly believe it had only been a few days since the last time she was here. It felt more like a month, so much had happened since that night. She was suddenly very tired. She leaned her head back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes.

“Are you all right, Cathy?” Jen asked.

Without opening her eyes Catherine answered, “Do you remember that summer we went to the Florida Keys and we ended up in the middle of a hurricane?”

Jen laughed, “Oh my gosh, Cathy! I haven’t thought about that in years. You were so scared.”

Catherine smiled and said, “You never let go of me. You just kept cracking jokes the whole time to make me laugh.” Then her smile faded, “Here we are again … in the middle of a hurricane. … It’s so quiet in here. It feels like we’re sitting in the eye of the storm.”

Jen reached out to squeeze her hand and said, “Maybe the worst is over, Cath.”

Catherine didn’t pull it away this time. She just squeezed Jen’s hand. They sat there like that for several minutes. Then Catherine asked, “Have you been happy, Jen?”

Jen was a little surprised by the question. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“You and Joe, have you been happy?” she asked again

Jen smiled to herself. “Yes, Cathy, we have.”

“Do you have any children?” she asked.

Jen smiling again said, “We have a daughter. We named her after you.”

Catherine opened her eyes and looked at Jen. “You did what?”

Jen said, “We named her Rebecka Catherine. You should meet her, Cathy. Sometimes she reminds me so much of you. She’s going to save the world. She just got married in April. Do you want to see a picture?”

Catherine smiled and nodded. As Jen pulled out her phone Joe entered the office.

When Joe walked into the room the feeling in the air changed. It was clear that Joe was upset. Catherine could feel the panic rising even though she was doing her best to keep it under control. He threw his jacket over his chair. He walked over to the window. He couldn’t look Catherine in the eye, but it was clear that he was upset.

After a few uncomfortable minutes she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Joe, tell me. Who was it? Who was buried in my grave?”

He turned and looked straight at her and said, “It was you, Cathy.”

Catherine couldn’t believe what he was saying. She shook her head. “No, NO, Joe … It’s not true! I’m …”

Joe interrupted her. “Cathy, what did he do to you? What did Gabriel do to you?”

Catherine was confused. She tried to answer, “Joe, I already told you. I already answered your questions.”

Joe was clearly agitated. “You answered my questions Cathy, but that isn’t everything … is it? I need you to tell me WHAT … HE … DID … TO … YOU!”

In her head she was wondering frantically what he knew. She met Joe’s eyes, but she didn’t respond to his question.

Joe’s voice became softer. “Cathy, I need you to take off that bracelet and show me your wrist?”

Catherine’s eyes got big, she shrank back in her seat and said, “No” Then shaking her head she emphatically said, “No Joe!”

Frustrated, Joe pulled a chair up close to Catherine. He sat facing her and spoke softly. “Listen Cathy, what happened to you … it happened because I gave you that book. I feel responsible. I feel like I ruined your life.”

Catherine started shaking her head and said, “You couldn’t possibly have known what would happen, Joe. It’s not your fault.”

Joe continued, “The other day you said you were choosing to trust me. I need you to choose to trust me now, Cathy. I need you to show me your wrist.”

Catherine took a deep breath and let go of Jen’s hand. She nodded slightly and began to undo the snaps on the wide leather bracelet that she never took off. She slowly held out her hand to Joe. He took it gently in his hand and slowly turned it over to reveal a burn scar in the shape of a circle with a “G” in the middle.

When he saw it, he felt sick to his stomach. He groaned, “Oh, Cathy. Oh, Cathy.”

Catherine sat expressionless like a stone, but tears were running down her face. She slowly pulled back her hand and put the bracelet back on and wiped her tears. She then calmly asked, “What was in the casket, Joe? How did you know about that?”

Joe answered, “Cathy, I need you to come with me to the Medical Examiner’s office to answer some questions on the record and to see for yourself.”

She was candid when she said, “Joe, I don’t think I can. I don’t know if I can walk in there. I don’t feel safe.”

Still sitting close, Joe still spoke softly. “Listen, Cathy, Gabriel didn’t kill you, but he did take your life.” He paused for a moment and then continued, “He stole your life, Cathy.” Then holding his thumb and index finger close together he said, “You are this close to taking it back. I promise you … I swear on my father’s grave, Cathy … I will not let anything happen to you. Jen and I will be there with you every second.”

Catherine buried her face in her hands as she thought about what she would do.

“What do you say, Radcliffe?” Joe asked. “Are you ready to go take back your life?”

Still expressionless she looked Joe into the eyes and nodded “Okay.” she said with a shaky voice, as she nodded she reached for Jen’s hand.

Beyond Imagining

In the interview room Catherine sat between Joe and Jen. She was amazed at how calm she felt in the moment. But she had learned that these moments of calm could pass quickly. So she tried, in the few minutes she had, to find strength in the calm.

She looked around the room at the faces of everyone there. Joe and Jen were the only ones she knew. Except for a redheaded woman in the far corner who looked vaguely familiar. But she couldn’t place her. She leaned over to ask Joe who she was just as the police chief entered the room, Catherine was shocked to see a familiar face. She stood up and asked in disbelief, “Greg? Greg Hughs? Is that really you?”

He smiled and stuck out his hand and greeted her. “Hey, Cathy. I thought it would be more comfortable for you to see a familiar face.”

Catherine smiled and asked with a little bit of cynicism, “Did you want to make me comfortable, Greg? Or did you want to see if this person claiming to be Catherine Chandler was really me?”

Greg smiled. “Maybe a little of both. But seriously, Cathy, it is so good to see you. Now should we get to it?”

Catherine nodded as Greg introduced her to everyone in the room. She saw his lips moving but couldn’t concentrate enough to really hear and register any of the names. All she could think about was trying to get through the next thirty minutes and hope that it would all be over soon.

Greg sat down and told the videographer to begin.

Greg: Miss Chandler, are you aware that the grave of Catherine Chandler was exhumed yesterday?

Catherine: Yes

Greg: Miss Chandler, If Catherine Chandler is not the occupant of that grave, do you have any idea who is?

Catherine: No. I only know that it isn’t Catherine Chandler. It isn’t me.

Greg: I know that it’s been a long time, but can you recall what you were wearing on the day that you were abducted?

Catherine (taken off guard by the question she answered slowly with her eyes closed as if she was playing the day in her head.): Uhm … I was wearing a white chiffon blouse that tied at the neck …. a grey skirt … and a grey paisley vest with matching grey pumps.

Greg: Can you tell me if during your captivity you were harmed in any way that would leave a scar?”

Catherine: (taking a deep breath) Yes. Yes I have a scar.

Greg: Would you be willing to show me that scar?

Catherine slowly pulled her hands from under the table and removed the bracelet again. She reached across the table towards Greg and showed him her wrist.

Greg motioned for the videographer to come and get a close up of the scar.

Greg: Cathy, would you like to see what is in the casket that was exhumed from your grave at St. Cleo’s cemetery?

Catherine: No. Not really, but I suppose … if it’s necessary….

The videographer followed the group into the examining room. Everyone stood back to let Catherine approach the casket.

As she approached she was shocked by what she saw inside. It wasn’t a person at all. Inside she saw sandbags. Her clothes were carefully laid out over the sand bags. On the pillow where a person’s head would lay was a photograph of her face. To one side of the sandbags lay her purse. Catherine wondered what was inside. To the other side was … a branding iron. Other photographs and newspaper clippings about her disappearance were scattered in the lower part of the coffin including a photograph of her wrist with a fresh brand on it.

Greg: What are your thoughts, Cathy?

Catherine: I’m glad that there isn’t anyone in it. I’m relieved that no one else died in my place.

Greg: There was one more thing in there, Cathy.

Catherine (looking his way): What?

Greg: There was a video tape.

Catherine’s heart skipped a beat. She tried to control her fear as she wondered what was on it.

Greg: We have digitized it. We would like you to watch it?

Catherine stood stock still. She looked to Jen and Joe.

Joe asked, “Do you think you can do that, Cathy?”

“Have you seen it, Joe?” she asked.

Joe said, “Yes, Cathy, I have seen it.”

“I’ve spent 25 years trying to forget all of that, Joe,” she said.

Joe approached her and reminded her, “You chose to trust me, Cathy. This is the last thing. Okay? And then Jen will take you home.”

Catherine remembered the situation at Peter’s apartment. “Joe, I don’t think I can go back to Peter’s. There were reporters all over the place this morning.”

Joe reassured her. “It’s okay, Cathy. As soon as you are ready to leave here we are going to call a press conference. That should draw the reporters here. That way you can get into the house without being noticed.”

Cathy nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to watch it.” But she wasn’t. Nothing could have prepared her.

As they went back to where the meeting had begun, the lights were turned down. A large screen showed the room where Catherine had been kept during her pregnancy on a black and white video feed. It showed her standing at the window. Then it showed her in labor.

Catherine closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She put her hands to her ears as she heard her own screams as she gave birth to her son. She opened her eyes as the screaming was replaced by the cries of her newborn son. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of him on the video while desperately hoping that there was no video of Vincent. The picture changed to the room that she once thought of as her tomb. Catherine saw herself strapped to a bed in a small sparsely furnished room. The nurse and the doctor came in with some instruments. She could see her struggle to free herself. She stiffened as they branded her wrist. It was obvious that she was in incredible pain, but she barely made a sound. The doctor commented, “Her tolerance for pain is incredible.” The nurse never spoke or showed any emotion of any kind.

Catherine closed her eyes again. She grabbed her wrist, she could feel again the pain and smell her burning flesh. Gabriel’s voice was clear on the video, “You are dead Miss Chandler, at least to everyone who knew you. I own you now. Whenever you look at that you will remember that I OWN YOU. I own you. I own your child. And I will own him. No one is unbreakable. I’ve broken many men and I WILL BREAK YOU.” The Catherine in the video stared straight ahead, expressionless.

Those in the room who looked at Catherine in that moment could see that she was also staring straight ahead, expressionless. No one could know the terror the sound of that voice struck in the deepest parts of her. She was reliving those unspeakable moments with all of her senses. At the same time she was using all of her energy to not lose control, not to feel too deeply.

As the video continued Catherine could be seen standing in the dim light staring straight into the camera. Her face showed no expression. The sound of a baby crying could be heard alternating with the sound of Vincent’s roars.

The cries of a baby faded and were replaced by the sound of Gabriel laughing.  Catherine continued to stare, stoic and expressionless into the camera. Then Gabriel appeared with a vicious smirk on his face saying, “I own you, Miss Chandler. I own your son. And I will own him.” Then the video went dark.

The lights came on and Greg said, “Cathy, considering all of this evidence, I don’t think you will have a problem getting your identity back. Would you be willing to give us your fingerprints to compare to those that may be on the purse? If you give us a DNA sample we might be able to match it to any we may find on the branding iron.”

When Catherine didn’t answer everyone looked her way. She was sitting very still. Her eyes were closed and she was visibly shaken. She was taking deep cleansing breaths. Jen reached for her hand. At Jen’s touch Catherine jumped up and moved away from the table. She dashed out the door and ran to the ladies room. When Jen caught up with her she could hear her vomiting in the bathroom stall.

When she came out, Catherine washed her hands, rinsed her mouth and then splashed her face with cold water. She was shaking and her face was pale. Jen was nearby, shaking and weeping. Catherine wanted to comfort her, but she knew that if she spoke or touched anyone that she might lose control. It was taking every ounce of energy that she had to hold back the flood that was threatening to destroy her.

She gave Greg her fingerprints and her DNA in complete silence. Hardly anyone spoke. They were all watching Catherine with concern and awe at her strength. Joe and Jen, who were aware of her medical condition were deeply concerned about her.

As Joe saw Jen and Catherine safely into a taxi. He also saw the first of the news vans pulling into the parking lot.

Catherine leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She stayed that way most of the way to Peter’s house. She only flinched a little bit when Jen took hold of her hand. She gave Jen’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you, Jen,” she said.

Jen asked, “What for, Cath?”

But that was all Catherine had the strength to say. With her eyes still closed she managed a weak smile and squeezed Jen’s hand again.

They were able to slip into the apartment building unnoticed. It felt like days since they had walked out the door that morning. Catherine went to her room and without even undressing she stepped into the shower. She sat on the floor of the shower and let the hot water wash away the trauma of the day. Every muscle in her body ached.  As she sat there listening to the water run she closed her eyes and in her mind she went to the waterfalls that always gave her strength. Even though it was early in the evening, she dressed for bed.

Stepping into the living room she found Peter and Jen quietly talking. Instead of taking her usual defensive seat at the furthest end of the room she quietly walked over to Peter and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Peter, for always being here for me. I couldn’t love you more if you were my own father.”

Peter blushed and replied, “Thank you, Cathy. I’ve always thought of you as one of my own children.”

She then sat next to Jen and hugged her. She looked at Jen and said, “You are the most wonderful friend. I don’t know if I could have gotten through this day without you and Joe.”

Jen was surprised to hear how steady and clear her voice sounded. She marveled as she looked at Catherine.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Jen?” Catherine asked.

Jen answered with awe in her voice, “You are so amazing, Cathy. You have got to be the strongest person I have ever known.”

Catherine replied with a wry smile, “I don’t know about that. Right now I’m just tired to my bones.”

Peter interjected, “Have you eaten anything all day, Cathy?”

Catherine shook her head and said, “I’m not really hungry, Peter.”

“You never are, Cathy. Nevertheless, you need to eat something. Jen made you some chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese. Can you at least try to eat that?” he asked.

Cathy smiled at them both. “You two aren’t going to leave me alone until I do, are you?”

They both laughed and shook their heads.

Catherine obediently ate the food even though she couldn’t taste it. She felt like she was walking in a fog.

Joe called and told Jen to turn on the news. The news conference was about to start.

Catherine rose from her seat. “Jen, Peter I hope you don’t mind, but I just don’t have the energy to deal with any more of this tonight. I just need to sleep for a while. If they say anything you think I should know, you can tell me tomorrow.” She hugged them both again and said goodnight. Catherine was asleep almost before she hit the pillow. For a few hours she slept a dreamless sleep.

****

Jake and Becka were together at home when the news conference came on.

“Hey, Jake. My dad is on the news,” Becka exclaimed as she turned up the sound.

Jake came closer to see as the police chief who introduced himself as Greg Hughs, came to the podium. His father–in-law, Joe Maxwell, was standing behind him.

The Police Chief began to read a prepared statement.

“Yesterday the grave of Catherine Chandler, a former assistant district attorney for the city of New York was exhumed. Miss Chandler disappeared in 1989. Several months later her body was found deceased, under extremely suspicious circumstances, in her Manhattan apartment. Recently a woman came forward claiming to be Catherine Chandler. This woman presented compelling evidence that prompted us to exhume Catherine Chandler’s grave. This morning the seal on the coffin was broken at the NYC office of Chief Medical Examiner. In attendance were Dr. Becker, the NYC Chief Medical Examiner, The Chief of Police Greg Hughs, Joe Maxwell, the attorney representing the claimant, The District Attorney, The Police Department videographer, Consulting Detective Diana Bennett and a court Recorder.

Upon opening the casket the following items were found inside; approximately 100 lbs. of sand in sand bags, the clothing that Catherine Chandler was wearing on the day of her abduction, Miss Chandler’s purse containing identifying documents, photographs of Miss Chandler and sundry items related to the case.

Fingerprints and DNA samples have been taken from the woman claiming to be Miss Chandler to compare to any evidence that may be present in the coffin. However there is little doubt that the claimant is indeed Catherine Chandler. People who were close to Catherine Chandler prior to her disappearance have positively identified the claimant as said Catherine Chandler.

Miss Chandler is unavailable for questions at this time. She has asked that the press respect her privacy.

A photograph of Catherine Chandler from the late 1980’s came up on the screen. Jake grabbed the remote and turned off the television.

Becka turned to see that Jake’s face was pale. He was clenching his jaw. “Jake? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His voice was quiet, but filled with pain. “That’s my mother, Becka. Catherine Chandler is my mother.”

“Your mother was murdered?” Becka asked.

The anger was evident in Jake’s voice as he answered, “No, Becka, apparently my mother was not murdered. She has been alive all this time. She just pretended she was murdered.”

Becka slipped her arms around Jake’s waist. She didn’t know what to say. Jake found some comfort in her arms. Then he said, “I need to get some air. I need to clear my head.”

“I’ll come with you,” Becka said.

Jake replied quickly, “No. I need to be alone.” He grabbed a sweatshirt and quickly went out the door.

****

Jen waited for Joe to get home from the press conference. When he walked through the door she ran into his arms. They embraced each other. Jen couldn’t stop crying. Joe was very emotional as well.

After a while they just sat embracing each other in silence. Joe kissed Jen on the top of her head and stroked her shoulder. Jen finally spoke. “Joe, do you remember when Cathy died?”

“Mmmm Hmmm,” Joe nodded.

“I asked you if she had suffered,[40] ” she continued.

Joe shook his head. “There is no way that we could ever have imagined … anything like that.”

Jen wiped away some tears.

Joe asked, “How was she when you took her home?”

Jenny answered, “She was exhausted. Peter and I got her to eat a little before she went to bed…. How did she do it, Joe? How did she survive that?”

“I don’t know, Honey,” Joe answered. “There are some rare people in this world who have the strength to endure horrible things. They refuse to be broken. Cathy has that kind of strength.”

Unexpected Visitor

Vincent was just on his way topside, when a messenger brought him word that someone named Diana Bennett was near the Central Park tunnel entrance asking for him. He instantly recognized the name and immediately went to meet her.

As he headed to meet her he couldn’t help but remember all that she had done for him and for Jake. He also recalled how their friendship had ended almost twenty years ago.

Diana had confronted him for what would turn out to be the last time…

“Where are we going with this relationship, Vincent?” she had demanded.

She was standing uncomfortably close to him as she spoke.

Vincent backed away from her. He hated it when she brought up this subject. In frustration he spoke with a raised voice. “Diana, we have spoken of this before. I have tried to make it clear to you that I can never offer you more than my friendship.”

“But, Vincent … you know how I feel about you. You’ve known for a long time. How can you choose her over me when I am standing right here? SHE”S DEAD, VINCENT! You are in love with a ghost. How can you choose her when you have someone real right in front of you?”

“She isn’t dead, Diana!” Vincent had insisted.

“What do you mean? Of course she is,” Diana had replied.

Vincent’s voice had changed then. He spoke in a hushed and reverent tone. “Catherine is alive. She lives, Diana. She lives here,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “She lives in my dreams, She lives in my son … Sometimes I even see her spirit wandering these tunnels. She watches over us. How could I possibly love anyone else, when she is still here with me?”

“You know how I feel about you. Why can’t you see me?” she pleaded. “I’m the one who has been here for you for all these years. I’ve been like a mother to Jacob …”

Vincent interrupted her then, “NO. No, Diana. You have been a wonderful and treasured friend. But you aren’t his mother. Jacob has a mother.”

He had regretted those words immediately. He could see the words hurt her deeply. She looked as if he had struck her. “Diana, I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you do, Vincent. Every time I come here. I can feel that she is always here, between us,” she said.

“Diana,” Vincent said, “I have tried. I have tried very hard … to be careful … to never say or do anything to make you hope for anything more than the friendship I have offered. If it causes you so much pain, why do you keep coming back?”

She nodded. “Maybe that’s the key. Maybe I should stop coming back.”

“I think that might be for the best,” Vincent replied as gently as he could. …

… Vincent’s thoughts returned to the present as he neared the last tunnel.

Diana was pacing back and forth as he approached. Her heart began pounding when she saw him come around the corner. They looked at each other for a few uncomfortable moments.

Vincent said, “Diana, it’s been a very long time. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” was her short reply.

She didn’t seem eager to speak, so Vincent said, “I received word that you wished to speak with me. Is everything all right?”

“I got a call from the Chief of Police yesterday. I’ve been asked to consult on one of my old cases.” She paused to see if he reacted. When he didn’t, she continued, “It’s the Catherine Chandler case.” When he still didn’t seem to react she said, “There’s a woman. She’s claiming to be Catherine Chandler. They have exhumed her grave.”

Vincent nodded.

Diana continued, “She came to the precinct this afternoon and gave a formal statement. Those who knew her back then seem convinced that it’s really her. Have you seen her? Do you believe it’s her?” she asked.

“Yes. I have seen her. And yes, it is her. It is Catherine,” Vincent replied. He was cautious with his answers.

Diana was confused by his reaction. “How long have you known that she was still alive?”

“Since yesterday evening,” he said softly. It wasn’t something he wished to speak about with Diana. His love for Catherine had become a wedge that had eventually ended their friendship. He had conflicting feelings where Diana was concerned. He felt guilty for having caused her pain. And yet if he was able to go back in time, he didn’t know what else he could have done to avoid what had happened between them.

“Did she tell you why she’s come back? After all this time? She didn’t look well. Is there something wrong with her?” Diana asked.

Vincent wasn’t comfortable lying, but he didn’t want to discuss Catherine with Diana, so he said, “I have more questions than answers myself, Diana. She has asked me to stay away from her. She wants me to pretend that she’s still dead.”

Diana accepted his answer. “I’m sorry, Vincent. This must be very painful for you and for Jacob,” she said.

Vincent only nodded. They were both very uncomfortable. At length Vincent said, “I’m sorry, Diana. I don’t know what else to say.”

“I understand,” she said, nodding. “If I learn anything else, would you like me to let you know?” she asked.

Vincent thought for a moment and said, “Catherine believes that there could still be someone out there who might want to harm her. That she might still be in danger. I don’t know if that’s true, but if you hear anything … I would appreciate it.”

Diana nodded. As she turned to leave Vincent said, “Diana?” When she turned to look at him, he said, “I’m sorry, Diana. I’m sorry that you have been drawn into this again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a wry smile. And then she walked out into the night.

Vincent waited until he was sure Diana had gone and then he walked out into the park as well. The earlier rain of the day had washed the world clean. Vincent loved the smell of the park after a summer rain.

After the Storm

Catherine slept soundly for a few hours before she began to hear the cries of her baby mingled with the sound of Vincent’s roars and Gabriel’s sinister laughter. In her dreams she was running in the dark. She could hear a voice saying, “You’re dead. You’re dead.” And another voice saying, “But you did die. You did die.” She could see in the distance the flickering of a small flame as she ran towards it she could hear the cries of a little girl.  “Cici ที่เป็น Cici ของฉัน” or “Cici, where is my Cici?” She desperately began looking for Candy in the dark. She woke up disoriented in the darkness of her room. Then she ran to the bathroom and threw up.

After brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face she made her way to Peter’s rooftop garden. After the storms of the previous day everything smelled fresh and the stars were brilliant. She sat down on the wicker couch, clasped her hands behind her head and gazed up at the sky. She took several deep breaths, drinking in the healing fragrances of the garden and the beauty of the stars.

“At moments like this it’s easy to believe that ‘God is in His heaven and all’s right with the world,’” Catherine said to the night.

Then speaking softly she asked, “What part of ‘You need to stay away’ wasn’t clear? It isn’t safe for you to be here.”

“How can I stay away, Catherine?” Vincent asked from the shadows. “I’m trying to understand, to fit the pieces together.”

“Don’t waste your time, Vincent,” she answered. “The pieces will never fit back together.” Her voice was flat, without emotion.

Changing the subject Vincent said, “Early this morning I … I felt your fear … it was more than fear, Catherine. It was sheer terror. And then it passed. I’ve never felt anything like that from you before.”

Catherine nodded. She knew exactly when that moment had occurred. “I was on my way to the doctor’s office. I thought some men were following me and I remembered the day…” She momentarily closed her eyes and breathed deeply to banish the memory. “I had a panic attack. I’m sorry. I lost control of … myself.”

“What did the doctor say?” Vincent asked.

Catherine answered, “He thinks he can treat the aneurysms if he can get to them before they rupture. I am going to have surgery a week from today.”

Vincent stepped out of the shadows. Slowly approaching Catherine, he observed, “You don’t sound hopeful.”

Catherine looked at Vincent. What a beautiful sight he was to her. Despite efforts to keep her emotions in check, her face felt warm and she could feel her heart beating faster. After all these years, she still felt drawn to him. It took all of her strength not to run into his arms the way she used to in another life, a thousand years ago. Vincent could feel it too. He was sure she still loved him.

She pulled her gaze away from him and stared out into the night. “No, Vincent, I’m not … hopeful.” Catherine said trying to keep her voice from betraying her feelings for him.

“Why not, Catherine? That sounds like good news?” he asked.

Turning to him, she answered, “Hope only leads to disappointment, Vincent. Life has taught me … that if I have no hopes, no expectations, then everything I receive, every moment, no matter how small, is a gift.”

She turned her attention back to the brilliant night sky. “You shouldn’t be here. It isn’t safe. You will find nothing here but pain. But if you insist on ignoring my warnings, then by all means, come sit down,” she said without looking at him.

Vincent sat down in a chair near the couch and watched her in the silence.

After a few minutes Catherine asked, “How can you even look at me? After what I’ve done?”

“What have you done, Catherine?” he asked.

She turned to face him. “I let you believe that I was dead all these years. I deserted you and our son. I left you to raise him alone. Why aren’t you angry?

Vincent shook his head. “Because I know that you loved me, Catherine. Because I know that you loved him. Because I know that something terrible happened to you… to all of us.”

She continued to be silent. She was too tired to talk about it anymore.

“Do you want to know about him … our son?” he asked.

She looked back to the New York City skyline. “I have no right to ask. I have no right to know.” She paused and then said, “I know his name is Jacob Chandler Vincent and he’s beautiful. He has your eyes and he has your heart. He’s a doctor and he’s kind to old women and frightened little children.”

At first he was surprised by what she knew. Then nodding, he said, “Yes, that’s right. You met him in Thailand,” he recalled.

Catherine looked at him in surprise. “How did you …?” She was caught off guard that he knew that.

Vincent explained, “When Jacob came home from Thailand he told me he had given his crystal to a remarkable woman that reminded him of his mother. He said he felt compelled to give it to her. He felt that you should have it.”

She breathed in sharply and looked away. “He probably doesn’t think that now. Does he realize that it was me?”

Vincent shook his head and answered, “He’s angry and hurt and confused. But I don’t think he has made the connection yet.”

“How did you know?” she asked.

“You were wearing it last night at the cemetery. I knew then that it was you he had described to me,” he said.

Remembering the sweetness of that encounter Catherine said, “Sometimes, out of the blue, life hands you this wonderful unexpected gift. Meeting him was one of those times.”

“Do you want to see him, Catherine?” Vincent asked.

“NO … I mean, yes I do. You have no idea … but, No. He can’t be in my life. Either can you, Vincent. It isn’t safe. I’m not safe. And you’re not safe if you’re near me,” she pleaded. “Please, Vincent, I’m asking you to please stay away from me.”

“If you’re in danger, Catherine, I can protect you,” Vincent declared.

“NO!” Catherine said in a flash of anger. She stood up and moved behind the couch, “No, you can’t protect me Vincent. I won’t let you … do that … ever again.”

“If someone means to harm you, Catherine … I want to protect you,” Vincent insisted.

“I know you do. But I can’t let you. I won’t let you. That can’t be part of … who we are … ever again,” Catherine tried to explain.

Vincent stood and stepped toward her, “But Catherine … if something should happen to you. Why won’t you let me help you?” Vincent didn’t understand why she wouldn’t accept his help.

Then her voice became strangely quiet as she asked, “Vincent … if I asked you something … would you tell me the truth? … No matter what?”

Vincent was taken aback by the question and the seeming turn in the conversation. “Yes … Catherine … of course I would,” he answered.

Catherine turned away for a moment. She was asking herself if she really wanted to know the answers he might give. Finally she turned back to him, looked into his eyes, and asked, “Before you ever knew me … before the night you found me in the park … had you ever killed anyone … before?”

Vincent stepped back, almost as if she had slapped him. How could he answer such a question? What would his answer mean to them? … to their future? But he had already promised to tell her the truth. He had no choice. At length he quietly said, “No.”

Her eyes were locked with his. She nodded almost imperceptibly as she absorbed the answer. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if she were about to plunge into a pool of icy water and asked, “… And since the day you took our child home? … since the day you took Jake home to the tunnels with you? … Have you killed anyone? … since that day?”

Vincent breathed in sharply. “Catherine,” he whispered roughly. The questions were obviously painful to him. In that moment he wanted to turn away … to run away … but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. Finally he whispered, “No.”

She nodded and whispered, “Thank you, Vincent … for telling me the truth.” She sighed as she internalized the answers. “I will try to keep you from feeling my fear,” she said. “But if you do … promise me, Vincent, that you won’t come to me. You can’t come to me. I need you to promise.”

Catherine was asking the impossible. Shaking his head, Vincent held up his hands and said, “I can’t… I can’t do that, Catherine.”

Catherine’s voice became very soft as she replied, “Then my only option is to leave, to go as far away as I possibly can and never see you again.”

Vincent reached for her and she backed away. “Catherine, don’t ask this.”

Catherine was resolved. She was using the couch to put a barrier between them and said, “I almost destroyed you once, Vincent. I won’t … do it … again.”

Vincent was desperate as he said, “I don’t know what you mean. But Catherine, if you were to … die …”

She interrupted his thought, “I am going to die, Vincent!” Her voice was raised in an effort to make him understand. “Everybody dies! Sooner or later everyone … everyone we love is gone … and we are … left … standing naked and alone in the dark.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I’m not afraid to do that. I’ve been doing that for a long time. Death doesn’t frighten me, Vincent. What frightens me is harming the people that I love … destroying the people that I love. No one else can be hurt or die because of me. Especially you and Jake. I would rather die, if it means the people that I love are safe.”

Vincent could clearly see that she was shaken. At the same time even though he was standing in front of her he could now feel no sense of her. Vincent stared at her for a few moments and then, very quietly, asked, “Is that what Gabriel did to you? Did he make you stand naked and alone in the dark?”

She was standing very still meeting his gaze and shaking from head to toe. It was taking all of her strength to keep her emotions in check. She didn’t want Vincent to feel the pain she was in, but she couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down her face.

Vincent moved to comfort her, but she backed away and held up her hands as she shook her head. Vincent pleaded, “Catherine, I can see that you are in great pain, but I can’t feel it. How are you doing that? What can I do to help you?”

She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she gained control of herself she began to speak softly. “I’m sorry you saw that. I don’t want you to worry. I … I can’t explain it, what he did to me. I tried to make sense of it once. I wrote some of it in a journal. But I lost it. I don’t have the strength to explain it all again. It’s too difficult to even think about it. And I certainly don’t want to talk about it.”

Vincent asked, “Why won’t you let me near you? Why won’t you be touched?”

Catherine thought for a moment and said, “It’s easier … not to feel anything … if no one touches me. If you touch me, Vincent … I’ll start to dream … to hope. … It’s too late for me … to have hopes and dreams. … They hurt too much.”

“I’m standing right here, Catherine. Why can’t I feel you? … Why can’t I feel your pain?” Vincent asked.

Catherine answered, “Don’t you think I’ve caused you enough pain? It wouldn’t be fair to inflict this on you. I’m having trouble controlling it lately. I know you have felt it. I’m sorry about that.”

Vincent replied, “Catherine, don’t be sorry. I love you. I want to help you carry this. It hurts me to see you bearing it alone.”

Catherine tried to explain, “It’s all right, Vincent. I’ve gotten used to being alone. I’ve been controlling my emotions for such a long time. If I stop now … I’m afraid they might crush us both.”

Vincent could see her hands shaking as she spoke. She continued, “It would have been so much better if I could have died before you knew I was still alive. Now you have to go through it all again.” She began to rub her forehead to relieve the pressure.

Vincent was not ready to give up. “Don’t say that, Catherine. It wouldn’t have been better. The surgery might be successful. You might not die.”

Catherine shook her head. “How many times have I cheated death, Vincent? I’m pretty sure I have run out of my fair share of chances. Not even you or your love can save me from this.”

Vincent was thoughtful for a few moments and then he said, “Catherine, you said you have learned to accept each moment you are given, no matter how small, as a gift.  We have been given this moment. If you are going to die, then why are we wasting time arguing? It’s seven days[41] until your surgery. If all we have is seven days, then let’s accept that gift. It’s more than I ever dreamed there would be. Let me share this with you, Catherine … for seven days. No hopes, no expectations, just this moment and whatever moments there may be after that.” He held out his hand to her.

Catherine was thoughtful. She felt the resolve within her soften, perhaps because she was so exhausted. She slowly came around the couch and cautiously approached, Vincent.

“Sit down,” she said softly, “but don’t touch me.”

Vincent obeyed silently. Her approach was encouraging, but he was afraid that she would retreat any second if he even breathed.

She sat down on the couch facing him. Their eyes were locked on each other. After a few minutes she slowly and carefully reached for his hand and turned it palm side up. She silently examined and traced the burn scars on his palm.

He began to say, “Those are from …”

She stopped him abruptly. “I KNOW …” then she looked into his eyes and tenderly said, “I know what they’re from, Vincent. If we only have seven days, I don’t want to waste one second of it thinking or talking about that.”

Vincent silently nodded. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. He still could not feel their old connection. She still had a tight reign on her emotions. But he was willing to take whatever she had to offer. He was willing to give her whatever she needed him to give. He held his breath as she lifted his hand and gently kissed the scars. She turned his hand back over and entwined her fingers through his. She wrapped her other hand around their entwined hands and then lay her head gently on his shoulder. They sat in silence for a while watching the city lights and the stars. Slowly he could feel her relax as her breathing became more even. Slowly he began to breathe too.

At length Catherine said, “I’m so tired, Vincent, but I don’t want to sleep. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone and I will realize this was just a dream.”

Vincent kissed her softly on the top of her head and said, “Sleep, Catherine. I will stay as long as I can and watch over you. And I’ll come back tomorrow, if you will allow me.”

Catherine lay her head down on his lap and curled up her legs on the couch beside him. As he looked down on her and watched her sleep he noticed that from time to time a single tear would escape and slip slowly down her face. He ached to think that even in her sleep she suffered. He sat like that for hours, gently stroking her hair. From time to time a tear would fall from his face and mingle with hers. As he watched her sleep he recalled a beloved sonnet …

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

(Shakespeare Sonnet 116)

… As dawn approached, Vincent carefully stood up, trying not to waken her. He knelt beside her and kissed her softly on the cheek.

In her sleep she whispered, “I love you, Vincent.”

“Yes, Catherine,” he sighed. “I already knew that.”

Before leaving the garden, Vincent plucked some honeysuckle[42] and left it next to her so that when she woke up she would know that he had not been a dream.

The End of Angels and Fairy Tales

Jake had walked for hours trying to calm down, trying to comprehend what was happening, trying to get control of himself so that Becka wouldn’t see him in such a state. When he returned to the apartment Becka was asleep on the couch. Jake began cleaning the cupboards to expend some of the energy his anger had created. When he finished the cupboards he dove into the closets and finally found himself rearranging the bookshelves. As he worked his way through the books, he realized he had several books that belonged to his father. He thought for a moment and decided he needed to see his father and tell him what was happening. He found a box and began filling it. Jake didn’t notice that among the books was the journal that had mistakenly found its way into his backpack when he was in Thailand. Its binding looked very much like all of the others.

Not long after Vincent returned to his chamber, Jake entered carrying the box. They were both surprised to see each other up so early.

Vincent spoke first. “Are you all right, Jacob? You look terrible.”

Jake knew what he looked like. “I couldn’t sleep. I was trying to clear my head. I spent all night cleaning my closets and reorganizing my bookshelves. These are yours. I borrowed them ages ago. I’m sorry it took me so long to bring them back.”

Vincent knew that Jacob wasn’t there because of books. He said, “Jacob, I don’t care if you have my books. You can keep them as long as you like. What can I do for you? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There was a news conference on television last night,” Jake said.

Vincent nodded.

Jake continued, “They opened her casket yesterday. Catherine Chandler’s.”

“Who was in it?” Vincent asked

Jake shook his head and said, “No one. There wasn’t anyone inside. There were sand bags, her clothes, her purse and ‘other items related to the case’. Whatever that means.” Looking at his father, he asked, “Do you think she was part of it, Dad? Do you think she was part of the hoax?”

Vincent was surprised by the question. He quickly answered, “No, Jacob! It wasn’t a hoax.” Almost whispering, he said, “It was a nightmare. She was a victim, Jacob. We were all victims. She was abducted. She was not part of it.”

Jake didn’t understand, “Then why didn’t she come home, Dad? Why did she walk away and leave us behind? Have you seen her? Have you asked her?”

Vincent nodded, “I have seen her, but she won’t talk about it. It’s too difficult for her to speak of.” He paused and then said, “There is something you need to know, Jacob.”

“What?” Jake asked.

“The woman you met in Thailand. The one you gave the crystal too. That was Catherine. She was your mother,” Vincent said.

Jake was confused. “How do you know that?” he demanded.

Vincent’s reply was, “She has the crystal you gave her. She said you’re beautiful and you have a good heart. She considers meeting you there a gift.”

Jake began pacing. He recalled her reaction when he told her his name. His mind was reeling. “Is that why she’s back? She accidently met me after all these years and suddenly wants to be back in our lives?”

Vincent shook his head. “No, Jacob, she’s ill. She may be dying. She said she was hoping to come back and die before we knew she was still alive. She didn’t want to cause us any more pain.”

Jake laughed bitterly. “Wow, Dad. That sounds like a load. Did she ask for your forgiveness?”

Vincent shook his head. “No. She didn’t ask for anything, except for me to stay away.”

“Are you? … going to stay away?” Jake asked.

Shaking his head again Vincent said, “No, Jacob. I still love her. I can’t let her go through this alone.”

Jake was getting angrier. “Are you kidding Dad? You believe that load of crap? She deserted us! You don’t owe her anything!”

Vincent was getting agitated too. “JACOB! I do ‘owe’ her! In the worst, most terrifying moments of my life, she stood by me. She saved my life, Jacob. She gave me a son. She gave me you. You have been the most amazing, precious gift in my entire life. I ‘owe’ her everything. If she is going to die, I am going to do what I can for her until that happens.”

Jake couldn’t see past his own anger and pain. “Dad … you’re blind. I can’t just let it go. Not without some kind of reasonable explanation. Normal people don’t just desert their children. Normal people don’t turn their backs on the people they are supposed to love. What kind of a person does that? ‘It’s too difficult to talk about,’ doesn’t cut it, Dad!”

Vincent spoke softly, “Jacob, there was nothing normal about what happened to us. What happened to us was … beyond imagining. Whatever her reasons were Jacob, I know that she loved me and I know that she loved you … of that I have no doubt … and I know that she needs me now.”

Jake realized that they were not going to see eye to eye on the subject. His pain was too raw to listen to and truly hear his father. He turned to Vincent and said, “What I know, Dad, is that all my life I have loved a lie. I have believed in angels and fairy tales. And now … I have no idea what I’m supposed to believe.” He turned and headed for home.

Setting Affairs In Order

Saturday, July 26, 2014 Day 8

As the sun rose over New York City, the first thing Catherine was aware of was the sweet, fragrance of Honeysuckle. As she opened her eyes and began to focus she saw the flowers that Vincent had left for her. Scooping them up in her hands she drank them in.

Everything looked so fresh and crisp in the first morning light. The sky was a beautiful brilliant blue and dotted with fluffy white clouds. As she came out of the fog of a long needed rest she began to recall the events of the night and her last memory of falling to sleep in the safety of Vincent’s arms. She couldn’t help but worry that it had been a mistake to let him stay, to let him come so close. At the same time she felt as if a great weight had been lifted.

She could still hear his voice as he pleaded … “Catherine … We have been given this moment.  …  If all we have is seven days, then let’s accept that gift. It’s more than I ever dreamed there would be. Let me share this with you … for seven days. No hopes, no expectations, just this moment and whatever moments there may be after that.”

As she looked out over the city she nodded and said, “No hopes, no expectations … accept the moment. Accept the gift.” She nodded again and repeated, “Accept the gift.”

“What gift?” Peter asked from the door of the rooftop stairs.

Surprised by his appearance, Catherine spun around, “Peter.” Smiling she said, “Good morning, Peter. Isn’t it beautiful this morning? It’s like a wonderful gift”

Peter was astounded at the change in Catherine from the night before. She looked as if she was just fine.

He said, “Cathy, you look wonderful! I was so worried about you yesterday. But you look so well this morning.” Looking around he asked, “Did you sleep up here last night? Is that such a good idea, Cathy? After all …”

Catherine smiled and answered, “I guess I did. I had a nightmare and I came up here for some air. I must have fallen asleep. It’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks, Peter. I feel more at peace than I have for a long time.”

“Do you think you could eat something?” Peter asked.

Catherine laughed and nodded, “I actually am a little hungry, Peter.”

“Good,” Peter laughed, “Because I’ve asked Marta to bring up breakfast.”

As if on cue, Peter’s housekeeper appeared with a wonderful smelling tray of food.

As they enjoyed their hearty meal Peter marveled, “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat like this since you arrived, Cathy. What’s different today?”

Catherine didn’t want to share the details of Vincent’s visit, so she skirted the issue. “I have six days before my surgery, Peter. I want to cherish every moment and I need to put my affairs in order. I have some things I need to take care of. We need to make sure that my estate will go to Jake if that’s all right with you? I know it’s Saturday, but would it be possible to meet with your lawyers this morning if Joe is available?”

Peter tried to put her off. “Cathy, you have had several rough days. Why don’t you just take today off and rest? We can go see the lawyers on Monday.”

Catherine refused to be persuaded. “No, I need to do this today, Peter. I don’t have any time to waste. Every minute I have left is a gift. I can’t waste any of it.”

Then Peter understood that despite her cheerful appearance it was clear that she was still planning for her own death. He nodded and said, “Fine, Cathy, I’ll go call the lawyers while you go get dressed.”

As Catherine headed for the door she picked up the honeysuckle and took it with her. She had a serene smile on her face as she inhaled its sweetness.

As Peter watched her go he was amazed at the strength it must have taken for her to face all that she had gone through in her life with such grit and mental fortitude and the courage with which she was facing each day now. He couldn’t help but wonder where such power came from. He also wondered how much pain it was causing her to be so close to Vincent and Jacob and to stay away from them. But Peter knew that the subject was off limits, and he intended to respect those limits.

In the shower Catherine’s sense of euphoria was momentarily interrupted when she couldn’t hold down her breakfast. It was beginning to dawn on her that something could be terribly wrong. She had read the literature that Dr. Michaels had given her. She should probably call him. But there were things that she needed to do before it was too late. She resolved to call him as soon as she was finished.

Peter called his lawyers and then he called Joe. By 9 am they were all in Joe’s office. The business at hand was fairly simple: The Catherine Chandler Estate and all of its assets, including The Catherine Chandler Foundation was to be transferred from Peter Alcott back to Catherine Chandler. Then Catherine needed to write her will. Her desire was that upon her death her entire estate would be left to her only son. But when she refused to tell Joe the name of her son, Joe was perplexed.

“Cathy, how am I supposed to do this without knowing his name?” Joe argued.

“Joe, he hasn’t even seen me. He has got to be confused and hurt and angry. I don’t know if he will even want any part of me or the foundation. I will write him a letter on your office letterhead. If he chooses to accept it then he can bring it to you. He may have a lot of questions, Joe. I am counting on you to answer what you can.”

“I don’t understand, Cathy. Why haven’t you reached out to him? If you believe you are going to die, don’t you want to see your son before that happens?” Joe asked.

Catherine had a look of longing on her face. She said, “I want to see him more than anything, Joe. But if my son’s identity becomes public then he could be in danger too. I won’t expose him to that. If his identity becomes known it will have to be his choice.”

Joe said, “I understand your reasoning, Cathy, but I strongly disagree with you. He deserves to know you and you deserve to know him, even if it’s only for a week.”

Catherine was silent for a moment. “I will give it some thought, Joe. But for now, this is how I want to proceed.”

Joe conceded and handed her the stationery. He showed her to a quiet room where she could write the letter in private.

****

Diana was taking a chance by going to Joe’s office on a Saturday. But she used to know Joe, and if his work habits were still the same after all these years, there was a good chance she would find him in his office, even on such a lovely day. She was hoping that as Catherine Chandler’s lawyer he would be willing to get her a private interview with Catherine. She wanted to meet her, not only regarding the investigation, but she wanted to meet the woman that Vincent had loved. She wanted to meet the ghost that had blinded Vincent to any other possibility of love.

As the elevator doors opened Diana was taken by surprise when she came face to face with Catherine coming off on her way out of the building. Catherine didn’t seem to recognize her as she walked past and exited the building. Why would she recognize you, Diana? she asked herself, She has never actually met you. Diana made a split second decision to follow her. She kept her distance, because she hadn’t actually made a plan for what she would say if they actually came face to face.

Thunderclap

Catherine didn’t notice that someone was watching her as she left Joe’s office and headed for the shelter for one last time. She was surprised at how bright the sun was. Everything seemed in sharper focus. The delicious aroma’s coming from the hot dog vendors and the pretzel vendors smelled like a little bit of Heaven. Catherine wondered if her heightened sense of everything around her had anything to do with her visit from Vincent last night. Had accepting his “gift” changed something in her? She didn’t know. All she knew was that everything around her glowed and shimmered in the sunlight. Everything felt like a gift.

Lunch preparations had already begun in the kitchen when Cici/Catherine got there. It was easy for her to blend in to the bustle of the kitchen. She found a dish towel and found a spot near the sink. She looked at the young people around her and smiled as they joked with one another and shared their plans for the weekend. She could see such hope in their faces in spite of the hardships they were struggling to overcome. As the lunch crowd thinned and people went their separate ways Cici/Catherine found herself alone in the kitchen putting away dishes. Looking around for a step ladder to put some dishes in a high cupboard she noticed the custodian. He was always looking at her with a funny expression on his face. Catherine didn’t really mind. He seemed harmless enough.

Turning to him she asked, “Could you help me find the step ladder, please?”

He smiled even bigger and nodding his head he said, “Okay good. Okay fine.” Then he turned to go find one.

Catherine stood stock still as a long forgotten memory burst into her mind, “Okay good. Okay fine. Okay good. Okay fine …” kept echoing in her mind.

When he returned smiling and presented her with the step ladder. She looked closely at his face and asked, “Mouse? Is that you?”

Mouse smiled and whispered, “Hi, Catherine.”

Catherine reached out and held his hand. “Oh, Mouse. It’s so good to see you, Mouse. What are you doing up top?”

Mouse smiled again, “Sometimes Mouse is above. Sometimes Mouse is below. Mouse missed you, Catherine. Are you back?”

Catherine smiled sadly and shook her head, “No, Mouse. I’m not back.”

His smile faded. He looked closely at her and said, “Something’s wrong? Catherine’s sick?”

“Why do you ask that?” she replied.

Continuing to look at her closely he said, “Eye’s not right. Mouse can fix things. Mouse can’t fix that.” His eyes brightened and he said, “Jacob’s a doctor. Jacob can fix it.”

Catherine smiled and put her hand on Mouse’s shoulder. “I don’t think Jacob can fix this, Mouse. But I have a doctor. Don’t worry. Okay?”

Mouse nodded his head, “Okay good, okay fine.”

Catherine kissed Mouse on the cheek and squeezed his hand again.

Before leaving the shelter she wanted to let Becka know that she might not be back. Catherine knocked on Becka’s office door. Then she poked her head in and said, “Hey, Becka, I need to talk to you before I head out. Do you have a minute?”

Becka was glad to have a minute to talk to Cici. “Come on in, Cici.” She smiled warmly. Before Catherine could even sit down Becka said, “You look so serious. What can I do for you?”

Catherine sat down and said, “Today is probably my last day for a while. I’m sorry, Becka.”

Becka was concerned. “Is everything all right?”

Catherine was not sure how much information she was willing to share. After all she didn’t know Becka very well. Why should she burden a relative stranger with her problems anyway? She decided to give as little detail as possible.

“I’m having surgery this coming week. I have some things I have to take care of before that, so I probably won’t be able to come again.”

Becka nodded, “I hope it’s nothing serious. Is there anything I can do?”

Catherine smiled, “Thank you, Becka. I appreciate your concern. But there really isn’t anything you can do. I appreciate you letting me come here and ….”

Just then the door burst opened and Jen Maxwell came in. “Hey Becks! I hope you two are hungry, kiddo. We have a lot of catching u…” She stopped short when she saw Catherine sitting there. Looking very confused she asked, “Cathy? What are you doing here?”

Catherine and Becka stood up at the same time. Catherine said, “Jen?”

“Hi Mom!” Becka said cheerfully. “Cici, this is my mother, Jen Maxwell. Wait …Do you guys already know each other?” Turning to Jen she asked, “Why did you call her Cathy?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Catherine took a deep breath and said, “Jen is your mother? Jen and I have been friends since college. I’m sorry, Becka, I told you my name was Cici because I didn’t want anyone to know I was here in New York. My name is really Catherine. Catherine Chandler. You can call me Cathy.”

The expression on Becka’s face showed that she was beginning to realize … “Catherine … Chandler? The one on the news?” Becka’s eyes widened as she realized she was standing in front of … “You’re … Jake’s … mother?”

Catherine felt her heart stop when she heard Jake’s name. She looked at Becka in shock. Before she could reply Becka’s attention was drawn toward the office door like she was looking passed her mother at someone else. Catherine and Jen both turned to see Jake standing like a statue at the door. His face was pale and he had circles under his eyes.

Jen finally spoke, “Jake … Cathy? ...What is …?”

Catherine was frozen in place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. Her heart was beating wildly. Finally all she was able to say was, “Jake”

Jake just stared at her. The pain and the confusion was clearly written on his face. When he spoke he said, “… Hello, Cici … or should I say Catherine?”

Jen could feel the tension in the room, but she wasn’t sure why. “Jake?”

Jake’s expression changed. It became hard and set and he said with deep bitter sarcasm, “Jen, Becka, I see you’ve both met my mother.”

Jen was about to speak but Jake spoke first. “Becka, Jen, could you please leave Miss Chandler and me alone for a minute?”

Becka grabbed Jen’s hand and attempted to pull her from the room. Jen pulled away from her and said, “Cathy?”

Catherine shook her head, put her hand on Jen’s arm and said, “It’s all right, Jen. I’ll be okay.”

Jen could see by the look on Catherine’s face that she wasn’t okay. She gave Catherine a quick hug and left the room with Becka.

As soon as they got out of the office, Jen demanded, “What is happening, Becka? How do you know Cathy?”

Becka was dismayed as she said, “I thought her name was Cici. She has been volunteering here for a week or so. Peter Alcott said she was a friend. Oh my gosh, Mom. Jake is so hurt and so angry. And she has been working here all along. I had no idea who she was.”

Jen asked, “I thought Jake’s mother was dead?”

“SO DID HE, MOM!” Becka said, “Until a couple of days ago when they dug up her grave. When we saw Dad in that news conference last night, he went into a tailspin. I don’t think he has slept for 2 days. Is Dad her lawyer?”

“Yes, Becka. He’s has been helping her to get her identity back,” Jen answered.

“How could he do that, Mom? How could he do that to Jake?” Becka asked.

Jen was dumbstruck. “Becka! We are old friends of Cathy’s. How were we supposed to know that she was Jake’s mother?”

Becka then asked, “You mean she didn’t tell you who her son was?”

Jen shook her head. “NO! She refused to tell anyone who her son was. She said he would be in danger if people knew who he was.”

Jen just shook her head and said, “OH, Becka, this is such a mess!"

Inside the office, Catherine watched as Becka and Jen closed the door. She turned to look at Jake. He looked so hurt and so vulnerable. She couldn’t say anything. She just stood there.

Jake looked at Catherine, waiting for her to say something, anything. He ran his hands through his hair. He shook his head and paced a little. He didn’t know what to do. He had never been this angry in his entire life. He was afraid of the feelings that were boiling inside of him.

“You knew? ... You knew who I was?  ... in Thailand?” he finally asked.

Catherine was silent for a moment. She was afraid to speak. Then she answered, “No, not at first. Not until you told me your mother’s name was Catherine Chandler.”

“And you didn’t think I might want to know?” he demanded.

She shook her head and answered, “No, Jake. I couldn’t tell you. You were never supposed to know.”

Then she asked, “How do you know Becka and Jen?”

Jake laughed bitterly. “You want answers? That’s pretty funny. What makes you think you deserve any answers from me?”

The pain in Jake’s eyes and the bitterness in his voice cut her deeply. She nodded, “You’re right, Jake. I don’t … deserve … any answers.”

“You walked away. You walked away and you never looked back. You have been dead for 25 years. Why are you here? Why now?” Jake asked.

Before she could answer he said, “My father says you’re dying. You don’t look like you’re dying. But he believes you. You’re going to hurt him again aren’t you? You are going to leave again and break his heart.”

When she didn’t answer he pounded his fist on the desk and demanded, “AREN’T YOU?”

She jumped when he raised his voice.

She nodded, “Yes, Jake. Yes, I am.” She didn’t know how to make him understand. She continued with tears in her eyes, “He knows, Jake. I asked him to stay away from me. I told him that I have nothing to offer him but pain,” she sighed deeply. “He didn’t care. He came back anyway.”

“Why do you have to hurt him? He has only ever and always loved you. All of my life he has told me how wonderful you were, how beautiful you were. He made me believe … He made me believe in guardian angels … and the kind of love that you read about in fairy tales. Why couldn’t you just leave him in peace?

Catherine was shaking her head. “Jake, I never wanted to hurt anyone. It’s not like that.”

“And what about your ‘Life’s Work’?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Was that all a lie too? Did you get tired of slumming with the orphans in Thailand? You’ve done your bit for humanity and now you just come back? For what? Your money? I know you didn’t come back for us. Did you?” He raised his voice again. “DID YOU?”

Catherine was trying to steel herself against Jake’s onslaught of pain and anger. She didn’t want him to see her lose control. She didn’t want Vincent to feel her lose control. She shook her head again and said, “No, Jake, I didn’t come back for you. I didn’t want you to know…”

Cutting her off he asked, “And where is Candy, Catherine? Where … is … Candy? You left her too? You said you were the only safe place she had in the world. And you just walked away and left her? The same way you walked out on me and my father? You’re good at that aren’t you? Walking away? Who does she have now? Was anything you said to me in Thailand true? Or was everything a lie?”

By this point Catherine could no longer respond. She was afraid that she would lose control of herself if she spoke. An instinct deep within her had taken over and her only purpose was to keep him from seeing her break down and to keep Vincent from feeling her pain. Her expression had become like a mask.

Jake interpreted her stony expression and lack of response as acknowledgement that what he said was true. “I want it back,” he said. “I want the crystal back. It belonged to my mother. And you are NOT my mother.”

Every word he spoke pierced her to the heart. After all, they were all things that she had already said to herself in her darkest moments.

Jake continued, “My mother was courageous and generous and loving and kind. You ARE NOT any of those things. You are a coward and a liar. My mother is dead.”

Catherine closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if she had been suddenly hit in the face with cold water. For a moment she thought she was standing before Gabriel and she could hear his hideous voice saying, “You’re dead, at least to anyone who ever cared about you.” She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head as if to banish the memory.

She nodded and almost in a whisper said, “Yes, Jake, I agree. That’s probably for the best.” Then she turned toward the door. She needed to get out of there. She needed to breathe.

As she opened the door Jake shot one more arrow in his anguish, “Why couldn’t you have stayed away? Why didn’t you just stay dead?”

Just outside the door Jen had a look of shock on her face as she heard Jake’s last remarks through the now open door. She was surprised by the pale expressionless look on Catherine’s face. She reached out to put her arms around her friend and said, “Cathy, are you okay?”

Seeing Jen moving toward her Catherine held up her hands with a look of fear and said, “DON’T … DON’T … touch …me!” She just looked at Jen and shaking her head, said, “It’s okay, Jen. I’ll be okay.” And she walked toward the door.

As Catherine left the shelter she stopped near the exit to steady herself. She grasped the crystal in her hand and slowly took it off. She looked at it for a moment, it seemed to sparkle brightly, and then she quietly lay it down on the table in the entryway before opening the door.

The sun was unusually bright. Catherine had trouble focusing. As she stood at the top of the stoop she noticed a woman staring at her from the street. She looked vaguely familiar. She looked like … All at once Catherine froze in place. Every nerve in her body seemed on fire. She felt a wave of overwhelming panic and terror and all at once it seemed as if her head was going to explode. She held her hands up to her head and was about to cry out at the excruciating pain when everything went black. Seconds later, lying in a heap at the bottom of the steps, Catherine was completely helpless. As she sank into the darkness she thought she heard Gabriel’s sinister laughing as he said, “You’re dead … at least to anyone who ever cared about you …”

****

Somewhere in the tunnels Vincent was torn between his feelings for Catherine and his love for his son. Jacob was in so much pain. Vincent was not sure how to help him. He was also resolved to spend as much time with Catherine as possible before her surgery. She had been alone all of these years. He was determined to surround her with love if, as she believed, she was only going to live a few more days. It was the least he could do for her after all that she had given to him.

As he was walking through the tunnels he was suddenly overcome by a momentary feeling of terror followed by a sudden pain in his head that was so intense that it brought him to his knees and took his breath away. And then as soon as it came it left him and he felt nothing at all. When he finally caught his breath and stood up he saw her, or rather the image of her, standing right there in front of him. She looked confused. He heard her say “Vincent, where are you?” and then she disappeared. He immediately felt a sense of dread.

Clutching his chest he cried, “Catherine!” he said, “No!”

Worse Than Bad

Jen stood frozen in place as Catherine headed for the exit. She was appalled by what she had heard Jake say to her and terrified by the look she had seen on Catherine’s face. Becka ran immediately to Jake’s side, but he was too angry to let her near him or to be consoled.

Jen turned toward the exit to see Mouse pick up the crystal that Catherine had left on the table.

Heading for the door, Mouse called, “Catherine, you forgot this.” He opened the door to see Catherine tumbling to the bottom of the stairs. “Catherine!” he screamed. He was so frightened to see her fall that he didn’t recognize the strange woman that was already at her side. “Help! Somebody!” he called as he ran down the steps.

Jen ran to the door and was horrified to see Catherine lying at the bottom of the stairs. She could see blood on her face. She screamed, “Cathy!” as she ran to the side of her friend.

By the time Jake and Becka came to the door, Jenny was by Catherine’s side crying for help. Mouse was standing helplessly beside them saying, “This is bad. Worse than bad. Worse than worst. Worse than worst. Worse than worst.”

Jake turned to Becka and said, “Call 911.” Jake ran down the stairs and grabbed Mouse by the shoulders. “What happened, Mouse?” Then shaking Mouse to get his attention, he asked louder, “MOUSE, WHAT HAPPENED?”

Mouse looked at Jake as if he just realized he was standing there. “Jacob. Jacob. Mouse said, ‘”Jacob’s a doctor. Jacob can fix it. Catherine said, ‘No Jacob can’t fix it.’ But you can fix it, right Jacob?”

“Fix what, Mouse? Fix what?” Jake asked.

Mouse answered, “Catherine’s sick. Eyes not right. One eye’s big. One eye’s small. That’s not right.”

Jen screamed at Jake, “Jake, help her!”

Jake came close. He could see that she was breathing, but she wasn’t responding to anything. Looking at her eyes, he could see that Mouse was right. One pupil was dilated more than the other.

Looking to Jen, he asked, “Jen, is something really wrong with her? Do you know what’s wrong with her?!?!”

Jen nodded through her tears, trying not to become hysterical, she nodded and said, “Yes. Uhm. An aneurysm. No …three … three aneurysms. She’s supposed to have surgery next Friday.”

Jake groaned as he realized how serious this situation could be. “Who is her doctor? Jen! WHO’S HER DOCTOR?!?!” he asked frantically.

By now a crowd had gathered and the ambulance siren could be heard close by.

Jen responded, “Dr. Michaels at the University. He’s a friend of Peter Alcott. He said if anything happens she has to get to the hospital as fast as possible.

Jake nodded and said, “Call him! Call him and tell him we are on the way!”

Jen put her hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Jake, you have to tell them that her name is Cici Chamberlain. Do you understand? It’s Cici Chamberlain.”

Jake looked at her confused for a moment and then nodded. “Cici Chamberlain. Okay. Just call him!”

Jake turned to the ambulance crew and told them what he knew. He insisted on riding in the ambulance. Becka and Jen were holding on to each other as the ambulance pulled away. They jumped into the first taxi they could flag.

Slowly the crowd dispersed. And Mouse was left standing alone on the sidewalk, where Catherine had fallen. He was still holding Catherine’s crystal necklace. Looking down he saw a little bit of blood on the sidewalk. He knelt to touch the blood and whispered, “Worse than bad. Worse than worst. Worse than worst … Jacob can fix it.”

****

Diana had followed Catherine to the shelter from Joe’s office and waited for a couple of hours. Is this where she’s living? Diana wondered. Finally she decided to go inside and try to speak with her. As she approached the shelter, she had only reached the bottom of the stoop when the door opened and she recognized Catherine on her way out. They had made eye contact briefly before Catherine collapsed. Diana had very little time to respond before people began pouring out of the door and rushing to her side. Diana hadn’t gone very far from the bottom of the stairs. She wanted to see. She wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. As a crowd gathered, she found a spot near the back. She had watched events unfold: the panicked screams, the tears, the confusion and the sirens. She could still feel her heart beating wildly as the ambulance pulled away. She wondered if she had cause it. Was that look of terror on her face because of me? she wondered. Did I frighten her and cause her to fall? But then she reasoned, That can’t be it. She doesn’t know me. Why would she be frightened of me? She doesn’t even know me. She decided to call Greg Hughs and tell him what had happened.

As the crowd dispersed Diana could see only one person left at the scene of the accident. He looked vaguely familiar. And then she heard him saying, “Worse than bad, worse than worst …” and she knew.

“Mouse?”

Mouse heard someone say his name. He turned around and looked at Diana. Slowly a look of recognition came over his face. “Diana? You’re Diana. Used to be Vincent’s friend. Long time ago. Went away.”

“Yes,” Diana nodded.

Pointing to the ground where Catherine fell, Mouse said, “Catherine’s hurt. Fell down stairs.” Then nodding, he said, “Jacob can fix it. Jacob will fix it.”

“Mouse? Was that Jacob that went with her in the ambulance?” Diana asked.

Mouse nodded.

“Mouse, you need to go tell Vincent … what happened,” she said, “Vincent needs to know what happened to Catherine. Can you do that, Mouse?”

Mouse nodded and said, “Yes. Need to tell Vincent. Worse than bad, worse than worst. Need to tell Vincent.”

Diana turned and headed for the police station and Greg Hughs. She hoped that Mouse would go and tell Vincent what had happened.

Revelation

Dr. Michaels met them at the Emergency Room. Catherine was whisked away almost as soon as she came through the hospital doors. Dr. Michaels knew that if a rupture had occurred, every minute was crucial to Catherine’s survival.

Now Jake, Becka and Jen all sat together in silence in the waiting room. Jake kept playing everything over in his head. His angry words echoed in his mind. “You are a coward and a liar. My mother is dead.” Her soft answer echoed even louder, “Yes, I agree. That’s probably for the best.”

Joe had gone to pick up Peter on his way to the hospital. As soon as they arrived Jen ran into Joe’s arms. Up until now she had been strong, but with his arms around her she broke down. “What is it, Jen? What happened?”

Jen shook her head, “I’m not sure. Cathy … maybe she fainted or maybe she tripped. I don’t know. But she fell down the stairs. They took her as soon as we got here. The doctor is with her now.”

Just then Dr. Michaels came through the doors. He looked somber. Jen was prepared for the worst.

Peter greeted him first. “Hello, Mack, what’s the news? How serious is it?”

“Are any of you members of Cici’s immediate family?” Dr. Michaels asked.

Joe began to say, “We’re her friends and I’m her lawyer. She doesn’t have any immedia...”

Just then Joe heard a voice behind him say, “I am, Dr. Michaels. I’m her son.”

Joe and Peter turned to look in Jake’s direction. Up until Jake spoke neither of them had realized anyone else was in the room. Joe had a look of confusion on his face. He looked even more confused when he turned to see who belonged to the voice he had just heard and realized it was Jake, his son-in-law.

Jake extended his hand to greet Dr. Michaels. “I’m Jake Vincent.”

Dr. Michaels put his arm on Jake’s shoulder and said, “Let’s all sit down.” Dr. Michael’s sat on the coffee table with everyone seated around him. “Jake, one of Cici’s aneurysms has ruptured.”

Jen covered her mouth with her hands in an effort not to cry out.

Dr. Michaels continued, “Luckily it was the smallest one. If it had been the large one …” he shook his head. “… She needs a craniotomy right away. She’s being prepped for surgery right now. We are going to attempt to clip all three aneurysms while we are in there. And hopefully relieve some of the pressure on her brain. There will most likely be some brain damage as a result of the bleed. We won’t be able to ascertain the level of the damage until after the surgery.”

Jake asked, “Do you need me to sign anything?”

Dr. Michaels replied, “No. Cici already signed all of the pertinent documentation yesterday at my office. But if we need anything else we’ll let you know.”

Jake nodded and asked, “What about her other injuries?”

“She’s had a pretty bad fall. Considering that, she was lucky.” Dr. Michaels said reassuringly. “Her injuries are not very serious. She does have a broken arm. Other than that some cuts and bruises.”

“How long will she be in surgery, Doctor?” Jen asked.

Dr. Michaels rose to leave as he answered, “You should make yourselves comfortable, Mrs. Maxwell. It could be 4 or 5 hours, maybe more.”

As Dr. Michaels left, Joe turned to Jake. He stared at him for a minute or two and asked, “Is that true, Jake? Is Cathy really your mother?”

Jake breathed deeply. He got up and walked to the window. “Apparently … I am … her son. … But I don’t have a mother, Joe... I never have.” He pressed his hands on the top of his head and winced as if he was in physical pain.

By his demeanor and the tone of Jake’s voice, Joe thought it might be best not to ask him anymore questions.

The silence was more oppressing as the seconds, minutes and hours dragged by. After about 3 hours Joe said, “Is anybody hungry? Maybe we should go to the cafeteria and see if they have anything edible to eat?”

Jake didn’t move at all or act as if he even heard him.

Becka turned to her father and said, “Why don’t you and Mom and Peter go, Dad. We can go in shifts. That way if there is any news, someone will be here.”

Joe nodded and held out his hand to Jen. “Come on, Honey. You have to try and eat something.” Jen took his hand and they silently left the waiting room.

As the three of them reached the elevator Joe said, “Maybe I should ask them if they want us to bring anything back for them. Wait here.”

When he got to the entrance of the waiting area he saw Becka sitting on the coffee table facing Jake, as she asked, “Jake? What can I do? Are you all right?”

Jake put his face in his hands and then said, “She can’t die, Becka. Not after what I said to her. My father still loves her. He tried to tell me that she was sick. That she might be dying. I was too angry to listen. I couldn’t hear him. I refused to hear him. If she dies … after the things I said …” He shook his head and said, “I don’t know if I can face him.”

Becka continued to try to comfort Jake. Rubbing his shoulder she said, “You were upset. He’ll understand. Your father may love her, Jake. But he loves you too. Don’t forget that.”

In this moment, the worst moment of Jake’s life, he was incredibly thankful for Becka and her unwavering love. “I’m glad you’re here, Becka,” he whispered. Accepting her embrace, Jake found some comfort in her arms.

Joe quietly backed away from the door. In the cafeteria Jen told Joe what had happened at the shelter. Joe was quiet as he wondered about what he had overheard in the waiting room.

In the cafeteria Jen noticed how quiet Joe was. “What are you thinking, Joe?” she asked.

Joe shook his head. “I was just thinking about all the questions that surrounded Cathy’s case all those years ago. There were things that just never added up. Upstairs when I went back to ask the kids if they wanted anything from the cafeteria, I overheard them talking about Jake’s father.”

“His father?” Jen was confused.

Joe nodded, “Jake said that if Cathy dies, he won’t be able to face his father after what he said to her…. He said that his father tried to tell him that she was sick and might be dying, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Jen asked, “But he told us that both of his parents were dead? Why would he do that?”

Joe was careful. “Back then Cathy kept her personal life a secret. You were her best friend Jen, and she didn’t even share it with you. Now Jake is keeping his life a secret. What he said makes me think Cathy has been in contact with Jake’s father, but she didn’t say anything about that to me. Did she say anything to you?”

Jen shook her head, “No, Joe. I don’t even know when she could have seen him. I have been with her almost every day. Should we ask Jake and Becka about it?”

“No,” Joe decided. “Let’s just get through tonight. I don’t want them to know I was listening to them. It could just push them away.”

Jen began to cry. “What if she dies, Joe? She has been through so much to get her identity back. To get her life back. If she dies now, it will all be for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” Joe said, “She came back so she could die with her name and be buried next to her parents. She’s accomplished that.”

Looking at Jen’s face he realized that that might not have been the best thing to say. “I’m sorry, Jen. I don’t want her to die either. But it wasn’t for nothing. She was planning for the worst just this morning. She couldn’t wait until Monday. She wanted to tie things up today. She must have known that something was wrong.”

Joe put his arms around Jen. He couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Peter had remained silent throughout their conversation. He knew too many secrets to even consider saying anything. He felt awkward, but he knew that he needed to be there, not only for Catherine’s sake, but for Vincent and Jacob as well.

Mouse Has News

Vincent had been restless all day. He knew in his heart that something had happened. He was afraid to put words to it. He couldn’t concentrate. He just kept walking the tunnels and pacing in his chamber. His plan was to go to Peter’s home as soon as it was late enough. He was hoping against hope that he would find Catherine there in the rooftop garden waiting for him.

Late in the afternoon Pascal brought word to Vincent that Mouse had come below to the tunnels. That he was very upset and wouldn’t speak to anyone but Vincent.

“Tell me, Pascal, do you know anything more?” Vincent asked.

All Pascal could say was, “He just keeps saying, ‘Jacob can fix it. Worse than bad. Worse than worst. Have to tell Vincent.’ Over and over. He won’t let anyone near him.

“Take me to him, Pascal,” Vincent said as they both left his chamber.

Entering Mouse’s chamber Vincent approached him slowly. He could hear Mouse muttering to himself. It was clear that he was very upset.

“Mouse?” Vincent whispered so as not to startle him.

Mouse looked at Vincent and froze.

“What do you have to tell me, Mouse?” Vincent asked. “Is something wrong?”

Mouse just looked at Vincent with fear in his eyes. He clearly didn’t want to tell him.

Vincent came closer and embraced Mouse. “It’s all right, Mouse. You can tell me.”

Mouse reached into his pocket for the necklace and held it out to Vincent. Reaching to take it from him, Vincent asked, “Where did you get this?”

Mouse replied, “Didn’t steal it. Found it. Catherine forgot it, on the table. Tried to give it back. She fell … down the stairs.” Mouse was clearly upset as he spoke. “Had blood on her face. Hurt bad. Worse than bad. Jacob can fix it. Right?”

Vincent asked, “When did this happen, Mouse? Where did this happen?”

“Shelter. Mouse asked ‘Is Catherine sick?’ said, ‘Jacob’s a doctor. Jacob can fix it.’ Catherine said, ‘Jacob can’t fix it.’ But Jacob will fix it. Jacob went with Catherine.”

“Where? Mouse, where did Jacob and Catherine go?” Vincent was trying to remain calm.

Mouse replied, “Ambulance … took them away.” He paused for a moment and said, “When everyone was gone, Saw blood … on the ground.” Mouse began muttering, “Worse than bad. Worse than worst. Worse than worst …”

“Mouse. Don’t worry,” Vincent said, “It’s going to be all right.” He reached for Mouse and held him close, hoping that he was right.

The Waiting Begins

… in the waiting room … 3 hours passed … 4 hours passed … 5 hours … Finally  … the swinging doors that led to surgery opened and Dr. Michaels came out. He looked exhausted. His expression was impossible to read. Everyone in the room stood up, but no one spoke or moved toward him. It felt as if the world was holding its breath. Dr. Michaels came and sat on the coffee table again. They all moved in close.

“She’s made it through the surgery,” Dr. Michaels said. “She’s in recovery now.”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“When will she wake up? Can we see her?” Jen asked.

Dr. Michaels shook his head. “She isn’t awake yet. There is no way of telling how long that will take. The surgery went … as well as could be expected. We were able to successfully clip all three of the aneurysms. But because she had a rupture, there is a possibility that there could be other complications. She will have to be closely monitored. In a few hours she will be moved to the ICU. Orthopedics is with her now. They’re putting her arm in a cast.

“What kind of complications?” Joe asked.

“She could have a rebleed from the ruptured vessel. She could also experience a secondary event called a vasospasm. The vessels around the bleed could collapse and narrow, starving her brain of oxygen. It’s not uncommon after surviving the initial rupture. She could have a stroke. Seizures are a concern.  She isn’t out of the woods by any means. Her condition could be critical for the next 2 or 3 weeks. She will be closely monitored. She’s strong. She has her overall health in her favor. The fact that she got here and was treated so quickly is a definite plus. There is really nothing more that any of you can do here tonight. You should all go home. Get a good night’s sleep and we will be able to tell you more tomorrow.”

When Dr. Michaels left the room silence settled once again around them.

Joe put his arm around Jen’s shoulder and said, “He’s right, Honey. We need to go home and try to get some sleep. Do you kids need a lift?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Becka said. “I think we’re good. We might stay here for a while longer.”

“You sure?” Joe asked.

“Thanks, Joe,” Jake answered. “But yeah, I think we will stay here for a little while. At least until they move her into the ICU.”

Joe nodded. “Okay. Well we’ll see you two tomorrow. Okay?”

Becka hugged her parents and kissed them goodbye.

Jen cried quietly in the taxi all the way home. Joe wasn’t sure how to respond to her. Crying women always made him very uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if she was crying because she was sad or if she was relieved or if she was just exhausted. He put his arm around her and offered her his handkerchief as she cried on his shoulder. He was afraid that if he spoke she might cry even harder, so he just tried his best to comfort her in silence.

About midnight Catherine was moved from the recovery room to a bed in the ICU. Jake stood at the end of her bed watching her. Her head was heavily bandaged. Her face was scraped and bruised. And her left arm was in a cast. She was hooked up to IVs and oxygen and monitors. The only sound in the room was the sound of all the machines.

“What are you feeling, Jake? What can I do?” Becka asked as she slipped under his arm and wound her arms around his waist.

Jake accepted her embrace. He needed her support. “I don’t really know what I’m feeling, Becka. I don’t want her to die. It would cause my father so much pain. But I look at her and I just feel numb. Am I supposed to love her? What I’ve always loved was a lie. I can’t keep loving the lie … and I don’t know the truth. She’s a stranger to me. So what am I supposed to feel?” he asked.

She didn’t reply. She just hugged him tighter.

Jake felt a little like a drowning man and Becka was his life raft. “I love you, Becka. Have I mentioned that I’m glad you’re here?”

Becka responded, “Mmmm Hmmm”

Jake said, “I need to go tell my Father what’s happened. I can’t put it off any longer. I’ll take you home and then I’ll go talk to him.”

Becka nodded and they walked out of the hospital together.

****

Catherine was disoriented and confused. She found herself wandering alone in the dark. She thought she was in the tunnels, but she wasn’t sure. She could hear strange sounds constant rhythmic beeping. The sound of heavy breathing. She didn’t know exactly where she was. She was having trouble remembering how she got here. She could hear faint voices, as if she was underwater and someone was speaking. She couldn’t tell who it was or where the voices were coming from. The last thing she remembered clearly was arguing with Vincent on Peter’s rooftop. Or was that a dream? She wasn’t sure. … Maybe this was a dream … She wasn’t sure about that either.

“Vincent?” She called. “Where are you?”

The Messenger

After the news Vincent received from Mouse he had changed his plans. He was sure that if Jacob was with Catherine, he would come to the tunnels as soon as there was any news. As the hours dragged on, Vincent fell into a restless sleep.

His sleep was troubled by her voice periodically calling out to him. “Vincent, where are you?” It sounded as if she was lost and afraid in the dark. He could hear her voice, but as he frantically searched the tunnels of his dreams for her, all he could see was the flame of a little candle desperately trying to survive in the wind. But he could never catch up to it.

About 2 o’clock in the morning he was awakened by the touch of Jake’s hand gently shaking him awake.

“Dad,” Jake whispered.

Vincent woke up and sat up immediately. When Jake didn’t speak right away, Vincent said, “She’s still alive. That much I know. What else can you tell me?”

Jake was surprised. “How do you know that?”

Vincent shook his head and said, “I just do. She’s confused and afraid. But she’s alive. What happened?” Vincent asked. “She wasn’t supposed to have surgery until next Friday. Mouse said she fell down the stairs. Tell me the details, please.”

Jake nodded. “Yes, she fell down the stairs as she was leaving the shelter.” He didn’t want tell his father about the confrontation he had had with Catherine.

Jake took a deep breath and continued. “You were right, Dad. She was ill. One of her aneurysms ruptured. She was in surgery for over 5 hours. They were able to successfully clip all 3 of the aneurysms. She’s still unconscious and in critical condition. She is being closely monitored. We’ll know more tomorrow. It won’t be clear right away how much brain damage there is.”

“What was she doing at the shelter?” Vincent asked. “Did she come there to talk to you? How did she know to find you there?”

Jake shook his head. “She didn’t come there for me, Dad. She had no idea that I would be there. It was just a coincidence. She has been volunteering there. She was using her fake name. Becka had no idea who she was. I walked into the office and she was there with Becka and Becka’s Mother.”

“Did you talk to her?” Vincent asked.

Jake reluctantly answered, “We spoke … briefly … and then she left.”

Vincent could sense from Jacob’s hesitance that there was more to it. He reached over to his nightstand and picked up Catherine’s crystal. Holding it up, he said, “Mouse brought this to me. He said, ‘Catherine forgot it.’ Do you have any idea why she would have left it behind?”

Jake froze at the sight of it. His words to her were so loud in his mind that he was sure his father could hear them. “I want it back. I want the crystal back. It belonged to my mother. And you are NOT my mother.”

Jake turned away from his father and began to pace. “I was so angry, Dad,” he said. “I … I told her I wanted it back … that it belonged to my mother … and …she wasn’t my mother.”

There was silence and Jake said, “But I didn’t realize that she had actually left it behind.”

Vincent replied, “Are you still angry? Jacob, she was …”

Jake cut him off. “Yes, Dad, I am still angry. Look, I’m sorry, for your sake that this is happening to her. But don’t expect me to just forget what she’s done. I came here because I love you and I knew you would want to know. I will keep you updated if anything changes. Other than that … I don’t want anything to do with her.

He looked up at his father expecting to see … what?? Disgust? Anger? “Please don’t hate me, Dad.”

Vincent was confused. “How could I ever hate you, Jacob? I’m sorry.”

It was Jake’s turn to be confused. “Sorry? For what?”

“I’m sorry for the pain this has caused you.” Vincent answered He came toward Jake and embraced him. “I will always love you, Jacob, no matter what! Don’t ever doubt that.”

Jake hugged his father in return. “Thanks, Dad.”

Vincent nodded. “I appreciate you bringing me word. And for being there when she needed you, in spite of your feelings.”

Jake just nodded and rose to leave.

By the time he got back to his apartment it was almost 4am. Jake was suddenly aware of how exhausted he was. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since the last time he had slept. He crawled into bed next to Becka. She reached out for him in her sleep. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The rest of his life might be falling apart, but here, next to the woman that he loved, he found a safe place to rest.

Jake slept soundly for several hours. Then he began to dream.

He was back in Thailand talking to Catherine. They were relaxed and comfortable with each other.

Cici was saying, “Jake? Do you think you can ever really know how blessed you are if you have never suffered? How many of us never truly value the ‘treasures’ in our own lives before we’ve lost them forever? I’ve learned the hard way, Jake, to cherish the moments and the gifts I am given, however small. You never know when they will all be gone. And when they are gone, all you can do is treasure the bitter sweetness of the memories and keep reminding yourself that even the darkest nights eventually end. Sooner or later the sun will rise again. I still believe that.”

Jake asked “What do you do until then Cici? What do you do until the darkness ends?”

Smiling softly Catherine answered almost in a whisper, “You light a candle, Jake. You light a candle. And hold on tight to the shattered pieces your dreams.”

All of a sudden Jake could feel two tiny arms squeezing him around the neck. He thought he could smell the faint scent of butterscotch. He felt the sweetness of a child’s kiss and heard Candy say, “Sank you bery much, Khun Doc Jake for you to be my friend.”

Jake woke up suddenly when he felt Candy kiss his cheek. For a moment he thought he could see her standing there beside him. Her innocent smile seemed so real. He put his hand to his cheek and looked around. She was gone.

Sitting up he looked around and was disoriented. He couldn’t tell what time it was. Grabbing his cell phone he realized he had been sleeping for over 10 hours. He felt like he was walking in a fog. As he stepped into the shower the turmoil of the last few days came flowing back into focus. Becka was walking into the apartment as Jake was getting out of the shower.

“Hey, Hon. How are you feeling?” She asked as she reached out to him and kissed him.

He embraced her tightly and breathed deeply. “I woke up about 20 minutes ago. At first I hoped everything that happened in the last few days was only a terrible nightmare. But it wasn’t, was it?”

She stroked the back of his head and said, “No. I wish I could tell you that it was.” They stood like that for a few moments and she said, “Dr. Michaels called. He wants to meet with us at 4 at the hospital. My parents are going to meet us there.”

Jake nodded.

“Are you hungry? I could make you a sandwich for the road,” Becka asked.

Shaking his head Jake said, “No. Let’s just go and get this over with.” Grabbing his keys they headed for the door.

ICU

Jake was somber as he entered the ICU. He had felt so many extremes of emotion in the last several days, all he could feel right now was numb. He did feel physically rested. But emotionally he was exhausted.

He didn’t speak when he saw Joe and Jen Maxwell there, or when Dr. Michaels arrived.

It was Jen that spoke first. “Has she woken up yet, Dr. Michaels?”

Dr. Michaels was careful as he spoke. “No, Mrs. Maxwell.” He paused, “Cici is in a coma.”

Jen gasped and held on to Joe for strength.

Dr. Michaels held up his hands and said, “This is not uncommon with this type of brain injury. She could wake up in a day or two or it could be weeks.”

“How deep is the coma?” Jake asked.

“She is breathing on her own. She responds mildly to painful stimuli. But she can’t be awakened and she makes no verbal responses at all,” was Dr. Michael’s reply.

He continued, “This could just be her brain’s way of healing itself. Everything that can be done for her is being done. We just have to be patient. Waiting and watching is all you can do now. It’s important for her to be surrounded by family, friends, people she knows. Talk to her. Play music. The external stimulation could help.”

“What’s the worst case scenario?” Joe asked.

“Death,” the doctor said bluntly. “Or a persistent coma or vegetative state.”

Before anyone could react he added, “But there is no reason to expect that at this point. She’s made it this far. Her vital signs are stable. Every day she gets through at this point is a victory. I’ve seen people in her condition make remarkable recoveries. The love and support of family and friends is the best thing for her right now.”

“These ‘remarkable recoveries’, how long did they take?” Jake wondered aloud,

Dr. Michaels turned to Jake, “It could be several months … or it could be several years. Each case is unique.” Looking around he asked, “Do any of you have any more questions before we wrap this up for tonight?”

Everyone was silent. Dr. Michaels nodded. “Ok then. I will have my nurse contact you, Jake if there is anything new.” He shook everyone’s hand and left.

Jen was trying not to cry. She said, “Ok then. Dr. Michaels says she needs her family and friends around her.”

Jake laughed bitterly. It sounded out of place and inappropriate, but he couldn’t help it. “Where does Dr. Michaels think she is going to find any of those?”

Jen answered, “You’re her family, Jake.”

Jake couldn’t keep his anger in check, “NO, JEN, I AM NOT! She is not my family and I am certainly not hers. I have nothing to offer her. I don’t want to have anything to do with her.”

Joe stepped closer to Jen and put his arm around her. “She has us, Jen. We will be here for her.”

Jake looked at him questioningly. “What does that mean? You’re her lawyer! It’s pretty sad actually. All she has to show for her life is a son she’s never known and a loyal lawyer.” His bitterness was clear in every word he spoke.

“Jake …” Jen came toward him. She wanted to calm him or comfort him. His anger was frightening her.

Joe was getting angry too. “You don’t know anything about her! And you have absolutely no idea what she has to show for her life. Jen and I have loved Cathy since before you were born. We ARE her family! And we will be here for her!”

Jake was too angry to speak. Too angry to even let Becka near him. He began pacing the floor like an animal that was trapped. He ran from the room. He ran from the hospital. He didn’t stop running until he was safely in the tunnels. He found his way to the Chamber of Whispering Winds. Standing on the bridge he began to scream. The sound of his pain and anguish came from somewhere so deep within him that he didn’t even recognize that the sounds were coming from him.

Vincent could feel Jacob’s heart racing. He had always had a connection with his son. But he usually didn’t feel it strongly unless Jacob was under extreme stress. Vincent was not far behind him when he heard the screams reverberating through the tunnels. His heart stood still. He had never heard anything like that from anyone, except from himself. Running to his son, he tried to approach him. Seeing Jacob in such pain was both frightening and heart breaking. He suddenly understood what it must have been like for Father all those years ago as he helplessly stood by and watched Vincent’s torment.[43]

“Jacob,” he whispered. “I’m here. What can I do?”

Jake looked at his father and backed away from him as he said, “Stay away from me, Dad … I’m afraid … I’m so ANGRY, Dad … I’m afraid I might hurt someone.”

Vincent came close to him and embraced him tightly. “You can’t hurt me, Jacob. And I don’t care if you do. Just keep screaming as long as you need to. I won’t leave you alone with this.”

Jake held on tightly to his Father and screamed into the abyss until he was too tired to scream anymore.

Exhausted by the extreme emotion, they sat side by side with their legs dangling off of the bridge. Gazing into the swirling mist below them Jake said, “She’s in a coma.”

“Catherine?” Vincent asked.

Jake nodded. Without looking at his father he said, “I think it’s my fault. I think I caused it.”

“Why would you think that?” Vincent replied. “You didn’t cause her aneurysms.”

Jake wanted to be honest with his father, but he wasn’t sure he could tell him everything. “We argued … just before … it happened. You told me she was ill, but I … I couldn’t hear you. I refused to hear you.”

Vincent sighed deeply and said, “I’ve been blaming myself as well.”

Jake looked confused, “Really? Why?”

Vincent answered softly, “We argued the night before. She was so upset that she was shaking.”

“What did you argue about?” Jake wondered

Vincent recalled their last meeting. “She wanted me … and you … to stay away from her. She felt that she was in danger and that if we were in her life, we would be in danger as well. But I refused to leave.”

After a few moments of silence he continued, “I don’t think you caused it, Jacob. Sometimes things just happen that we have no control over. Things that aren’t anyone’s fault. They just … are…”

Jake replied, “I’m afraid to go home, Dad. I’m so angry … the pain is so … I’m feeling things I have never felt before. It frightens me. I’m afraid to let Becka near me. I’m afraid I might hurt her.”

Vincent spoke reassuringly. “Jacob, you could never hurt her. Let her love comfort you. Let her love heal you. Her love is what will lead you through this.”

“Do you believe her, Dad? Do you believe Catherine was really in danger?” Jake asked.

“Yes. I don’t think she would lie,” Vincent answered.

Jake turned away in disgust. “She’s been lying for 25 years, Dad.”

Vincent nodded. “Well … Yes. That’s true.”

Changing the subject Vincent asked, “Is a coma normal? What does the doctor think?”

Jake was relieved to talk about something else. “He says he has seen people in her condition make remarkable recoveries. He said she could wake up in a couple of days or weeks. But he says her full recovery could take months or even years. And that family and friends are important to her recovery.”

After a moment of silence he said, “Dad, I can’t do it. I can’t be part of her recovery. I don’t want to be anywhere near her. I just want to explode with anger whenever I see her. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

Vincent understood, “I love her. You know that, Jacob. But you must know that I love you too.”

Jake smiled. “That’s what Becka said.”

Vincent spoke to his son with love. “I don’t expect you to do anything that you don’t want to do. I think Catherine would understand. Follow your heart, Jacob. Trust your heart. It will show you the way through this.”

“You should probably go home before Becka starts to worry,” Vincent added.

They got up and walked together in silence. Before they parted Jake turned to Vincent and said, “Thanks Dad.”

“For what?” Vincent asked.

“For being here. For understanding. For being an amazing father,” Jake said.

Vincent smiled and embraced his son.

Facing Reality

Several days after Catherine’s surgery, Peter appeared at Joe’s office. Seated in the office they sat quietly, each waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally Joe began, “What can I do for you, Peter?”

Peter said, “It’s time for us to face the reality, Joe. There are things that need to be addressed before Catherine … We need to prepare for whatever may happen.”

Joe sighed deeply. “I agree. What do you propose?” he asked.

“It’s time for Dr. Michaels to know who she really is. She may never come out of this coma. She wanted to die with her own name,” Peter replied.

Joe looked surprised. It was the first time that anyone had said the “D” word. Everyone had carefully tiptoed around the possibility even though it constantly hung in the air. He nodded in agreement. He pulled an envelope out of his desk drawer and lay it on the desk. “She wanted me to deliver this to her son in case her surgery didn’t go well. I guess this applies. Although at the time I had no idea that my son-in-law was her son.”

“How is Jacob doing?” Peter asked.

Joe shook his head. “He is very angry. That’s all I know,” he said.

Changing the subject Joe said, “If you are free this afternoon, I can try to set up a meeting with Dr. Michaels. I would prefer if you were present for that meeting.”

Peter agreed and they were soon on their way to the hospital.

Standing in the ICU, Peter and Joe quietly watched Catherine’s steady breathing. The only sounds in the room were the regular beeping of the machines that were monitoring her vital signs. They had both agreed that it was best to have the meeting here so that Cathy could be present.

Carefully weaving his way through all of the tubes and wires that she was attached to, Joe went over to Catherine and held her hand. Leaning toward her he said, “Hey, Cathy, Peter and I are here to meet with Dr. Michaels. We thought you would want to be present for it. That way you can hear what we all have to say, okay?”

After a few moments he continued, “So this is the deal, Cathy. One of your aneurysms ruptured and so you had to have your surgery a few days early. You are in a coma. The doctor says you may have a long rehab ahead of you when you wake up. So we think it’s time for us to tell Dr. Michaels who you really are. I’m going to deliver your letter to Jake today too. I hope that’s all right with you.”

Peter watched the one sided conversation with interest.

Joe stopped talking when he realized Peter’s interest. Addressing Peter, he asked, “What?”

Peter smiled. “Nothing. It’s just that I am so impressed with the way you and Jen are caring for her. You are true friends.”

Joe smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “She needs us, Peter. She has been through so much and yet she still hangs on. Where does she get the strength to survive all that she has?”

Peter replied, “I must say, I have wondered that myself. I don’t know, Joe. I don’t know.”

Just then Dr. Michaels arrived. Looking around he asked, “Am I interrupting?”

Joe came forward to shake his hand. “Thank you for meeting us here, Dr. Michaels. I know this seems strange, but we wanted Cathy to be present for this meeting.”

Dr. Michaels nodded. “I understand. What is it that you want to discuss?”

Joe took a deep breath and dove right in. “Dr. Michaels, I would like to introduce you to Catherine Chandler,” he said as he motioned toward Catherine. “We need you to change the name on all of her medical records. She came back to New York so that she could die with her own name. Hopefully she will wake up and get well … but in case she doesn’t … If the worst happens … she wants to die with her own name.”

Dr. Michaels was dismayed. “Catherine Chandler? You mean the one that has been all over the news? The one whose grave was just exhumed last week? Are you telling me that this woman is not Cici Chamberlain? Peter?”

Peter began to explain, “Mack, I’m sorry that we lied to you. But she needed medical attention right away. We didn’t have the time to wait to see if she was going to be able to get her identity back. I hope you understand.”

Dr. Michaels was quiet for a few minutes. At length he nodded and said, “You’re right, Peter. She would have died. I can’t condone the lie, Peter, but I certainly understand why you did it. I am going to need all of the paperwork to be filled out again. Who is going to take care of that?”

Joe spoke up. “If you can send all of the paperwork over to my office, I can take care of that.” He gave Dr. Michaels his card.

After Dr. Michaels left, Peter reached into his jacket and pulled out a brown envelope. He handed it to Joe saying, “Cathy left this on her dresser. It’s addressed to you.”

Looking at the envelope, Joe read, “Please deliver to Joe Maxwell.”

“What is it?” Joe asked.

“I didn’t open it, Joe,” Peter answered. “I’m just the delivery man.”

****

Sitting alone in the dark, Catherine thought she heard voices. How long have I been here? she wondered. Most of the time she was alone with her confused thoughts. Sometimes she could feel someone take her hand in theirs. She thought it was Jen. Sometimes she could hear her crying. It was too dark to see anything. Why couldn’t she wake up? Why couldn’t she talk to them?

****

On the way back to the office, Joe went to Jake and Becka’s apartment. When no one answered the door he quietly slipped Catherine’s letter under the door.

Coming home from his shift at the hospital Jake noticed the envelope from his father-in-law’s law firm. It was addressed in long hand to Jacob Chandler Vincent. He sat down and opened it and began to read. It was dated July 26, 2014, the same day that Catherine had collapsed at the shelter. It read:

July 26, 2014

Dear Jake,

By now you probably know that I came back to New York and that my name is not Cici Chamberlain. My name is Catherine Chandler and I am your mother. I know that I have no right to call myself that, because I have never really been a mother to you. But that is still how I see myself. I am sorry that I didn’t have the courage to face you in person. I couldn’t bear to see the pain that all of this must be causing you.

If you have received this letter, it means that my surgery didn’t go well. I have made the necessary legal arrangements in the case of my death or severe debilitation. You are my only heir, Jake, whether you like it or not, and I need you to take responsibility for my estate and the Catherine Chandler Foundation. There are a lot of people who depend on it. Despite how you may feel about me, Jake, I trust that you will not let those people down. If you are unwilling or unable to take on the responsibility, just let my lawyer know and he will make other arrangements.

I want you to know that I have always loved you, Jake. Despite what you may believe, I have loved you from the moment I knew you were a possibility. Before that I loved the impossible dream of you. I seem to have a weakness for impossible dreams. The hardest thing I ever did was to leave you and your father. But I believed then as I do now that it was the only way to protect you both. Sometimes I thought that I might die from the ache. But I have learned over the years that for me, a broken heart is not fatal. Somehow it still went on beating. I’m not asking you to forgive me, Jake. But I do hope that someday you will come to understand why I made the choices I made.

In the meantime I have a huge request to make of you. You may feel that I have no right to ask anything of you, and that may be true, but I am not asking for myself, I am asking for Candy. I had to leave her behind in Thailand. I suppose that is the second hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I couldn’t stay there and let her see me die, and I couldn’t bring her with me. She is not mine after all, even though I love her as much as if she was. She haunts me, Jake. I can hear her crying in my dreams, and unlike you, I know she has no safe place in this world. I was her only safe place and now I am gone. She has no one to love her the way your father loved you. I’m asking you to help her in some way. She is so small and so helpless. I know that you are just one person Jake, and there are so many desperate people in this world. I’m asking you to find it in your heart to change Candy’s world if you can. She’s alone in the dark, Jake. Will you light a candle in her darkness? The Catherine Chandler Foundation supports the orphanage where she lives. You have the resources of the Foundation behind you. Use them however you need to.

My lawyer is Joe Maxwell. Take this letter to him and he will answer any questions you may have.

I am so proud of the man you have become, Jake. You have your father’s heart. Please know that I am eternally sorry for all that we have never shared and the relationship that we never had. All of my memories of you are only from my dreams, except for the short time we spoke last spring in Chiang Mai. It was a precious gift and I cherish it.

I hope that someday you will come to believe that I did always love you.

Forever, Catherine Chandler

When Becka got home she found Jake sitting silently on the couch in the evening dusk, staring out of the window. She sat next to him and slipped the letter from his grasp. After reading it she quietly took his hand and laid her head on his shoulder. They sat like that until the long after the sunset and the room became dark.

****

Back in his office, Joe took the envelope that Peter had given him out of his jacket and lay it on his desk. For some reason he was reluctant to open it. It felt like there was a book inside. He had a feeling he knew what book it was. Finally he picked up his letter opener and slit the top. Dumping the contents on the desk, out fell an envelope addressed to him and a black book. Opening the book immediately confirmed his suspicion. It was “the book” … The book that had gotten Patrick Hanlan killed. The book that he had given to Cathy all those years ago. The book that had ultimately ruined her life. He dropped it back onto the desk. It lay there staring up at him, accusing him, convicting him. He put it back into the envelope and locked it in his desk drawer. Then picking up the envelope addressed to him, he opened it. It was from Cathy.

Dear Dear Joe,

The night you asked me if I knew what had become of the evidence you had given me all those years ago, I told you that I hadn’t seen it since I was kidnapped. At the time what I said was technically true. But it wasn’t the whole truth, Joe. I did know where it was, but at the time I had not decided what to do with it. My true desire was to incinerate it and try to forget it had ever existed. But it did exist and ultimately I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it. I don’t know why.  It’s hard to believe that such a small insignificant looking thing could have the power to destroy so many lives. But it did. Maybe it still does, I don’t know. But I can’t keep it safe anymore, Joe, so I am giving it to you. I trust that you will know what to do with it. Whether you put it in a safe place, whether you burn it or whether you take it to the police, I trust you. But whatever you do, Joe, please be careful. I can’t bear the thought of anyone else being hurt because of it. Especially people that I love.

I know that you blame yourself for what happened to me, Joe. I want you to stop. You couldn’t have known what the investigation would lead too. We were only doing what we always did. We were doing our jobs. How could either of us have imagined anyone or anything like Gabriel? I know that if we could go back in time that you would change places with me. But I wouldn’t, Joe. I would never exchange my happiness for yours or for Jen’s. Could I accept that happiness knowing that it would cost you yours? I am so happy that two people that I love so dearly have found happiness together. So stop feeling guilty, Joe. It won’t change anything anyway. You are guilty of nothing except being a true and treasured friend. Now go home, Joe and hold Jen in your arms and cherish every moment of that happiness. It’s a precious gift.

Love, Radcliffe

Joe sat at his desk and stared at the letter for a long time. Finally he nodded, folded the letter, put it back into the envelope and locked it in the desk with the book. Then he went home, he took Jen in his arms … and he cherished her …

Looking for Answers

The next morning as Jake was sitting in Joe Maxwell’s Law Offices he realized he had never been there before. What do I really know about the Maxwell’s anyway? he wondered.  The shock of what had happened in the last several days had him questioning everything he had ever believed and everyone he had ever known. He wasn’t sure what was true anymore and what was just the world as he had wanted to believe it was. Everything seemed so strange. He was still reeling in a fog of pain, anger, confusion and guilt. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to accept the responsibility of the Catherine Chandler Foundation. But the letter said that Joe would answer any questions that he had. And he certainly had a lot of questions.

As he entered Joe’s office Joe very formally extended his hand to shake it. “Good morning, Jake,” was all Joe said. They were both clearly uncomfortable. Finally Joe said, “Please sit down, Jake.” He motioned toward the couch on the opposite side of the office from the desk. He was trying to make Jake as comfortable as possible.

As they sat down Jake held up the letter he had received. “I received this letter from your office yesterday. I assume you already know what’s in it?” Jake said.

Joe was quick to reply, “Actually, Jake, I don’t know what’s in it. Cathy didn’t want anyone to know who her son was unless it was absolutely necessary. She felt that if anyone knew who her son was that you wouldn’t be safe. She said it had to be your choice. She thought you would be safer that way.”

Jake was confused. “Safer from what?”

Joe didn’t even know where to start to answer that. He said, “it’s kind of complicated Jake. But I believed her concerns had merit. So I went along with it.”

“In the letter she says that you will answer any questions that I might have. Is that true?” Jake wasn’t sure any more what was true.

Joe answered, “I will certainly try, Jake. Do you mind if I read the letter first? So we can have the same point of reference?”

Jake handed him the letter. As Joe read the letter he was clearly choked up. It had been a very emotional few days for Joe and Jen as well. He nodded and handed the letter back to Jake. “Who is Candy?” he asked.

Jake was taken aback by the question. “I came here to ask the questions not to answer them,” he snapped.

Trying to be patient Joe backed off. Changing the subject Joe began again. “Jake, your mother made arrangements …”

Jake snapped back again, “Joe, please don’t call her that. She isn’t my mother. I have never had a mother. She gave birth to me and then she walked away. That’s it.”

Joe nodded. “All right, Jake.” He began again. “It’s Cathy’s desire that you be made the executor of her estate and the director of the Catherine Chandler Foundation as long as she is unable to fulfill those responsibilities herself. Are you willing to do that?”

Jake was clearly frustrated. “I don’t know. I can’t answer that yet,” he said shaking his head and raking his hand through his hair. “The truth is, I came here because her letter said you would answer any questions I had.”

He got up and went to the window. Looking out the window he said, “Right now, all I have is questions.” He was quiet for a few minutes and then continued, “You know those glass snow globes that you wind the key on the bottom and shake and snow falls gently down on a perfect world inside while you listen to a pretty little tune?”

Joe nodded but Jake didn’t see him, he just continued. “A week ago, that was my life. All the pieces were perfectly in place.” He stopped for a moment. “I feel like someone has dropped my entire world on the floor and it’s shattered into a million pieces. And I’ve only just realized that it was never real to begin with.”

Joe was at a loss for what to say to him. Finally he said, “Jake, why don’t you come back and sit down and together we can try to figure it out okay?”

Jake came back and sat down.

Joe tried again, “Why don’t we start first with what you still know is real? You know that Becka loves you right?”

Jake nodded.

Joe continued, “And you love her, right?”

Jake nodded again.

Joe exhaled, “Okay then, that’s your starting point, Jake. I will answer whatever questions I can for you. But there are some things that your mo… that Cathy wouldn’t talk about with anyone. So I might not have all of the answers.”

Jake nodded. He gathered his thoughts for a moment and then began. “How long have you known that I was her son?”

Joe answered, “Since the other day at the hospital. Before that I had no clue.”

“How long have you known Catherine?” Jake asked.

Joe was relieved to have an easy question. He answered, “We worked together for 2 years in the District Attorney’s office before … what happened.”

“But it was more than that?” Jake pressed.

Joe said, “Yes, we were friends.”

“Were you lovers?” Jake asked.

“Whoah!” Joe sat up in shock and said, “No. No we were just good friends.”

Jake wasn’t so sure, so he asked, “But you loved her?”

Joe smiled at the memory of Catherine so long ago. He said, “Jake, Cathy was one of those people that made everyone she was with feel like they were the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to love her. But she was never interested in me. We were just good friends.”

Jake continued, “And Jen? How does she know her?”

Joe could answer that. “They were best friends since college. More like sisters really.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully then asked, “How long have you known she was alive?”

Joe could feel Jake’s eyes on him. He recalled his reaction when she came into his office the first time. “Peter brought her here to my office a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t react very well. I thought it was some kind of sick joke. It brought back the memories … the incredible pain of her murder. I practically kicked them out of my office.”

Jake jumped up out of his seat. “Aaaauuuuughh!!!! Why do people keep saying that? SHE WASN’T MURDERED!” His face was red with anger, and his fists were clenched. “She has been pretending to be dead for 25 years. People keep saying she was murdered. She has been lying for all these years. Why am I the only one who is angry about that?”

Joe sat quietly for a few minutes to give Jake time to calm down. Finally he spoke, “Jake, you said you wanted answers. I’m trying to give you answers. But none of them are simple and the truth is not going to be easy to hear. Do you want the truth or not?”

From the window, Jake took a deep breath and replied, “Yes I want the truth.”

“Come sit behind my desk, Jake. There are some things you need to see.” Joe invited him with the patience only a father would have. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened a locked drawer in his desk and pulled out a pile of file folders. “These are the files I have from the investigation into her kidnapping and death. I nearly destroyed myself and my career trying to figure it all out. I’ll sit over here and if you have any questions, feel free …” With that Joe sat down across the desk and waited.

Jake spread the files out in front of him. Each one was clearly labeled. Catherine Chandler, Patrick Hanlan, Elliot Burch, John Moreno. Jake’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the last folder. The last one bore only the name Vincent followed by a large question mark. He wasn’t sure which one to open first.

Turning to Joe he asked, “Which one should I start with?”

“I recommend Patrick Hanlan,” Joe advised.

Jake opened it and read the report. He looked at photographs of the explosion that almost killed Joe. He saw photos of Joe’s injuries.

Turning to Joe again, Jake asked, “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with Catherine Chandler?”

Joe replied, “Patrick Hanlan[44] was where it all started Jake. I gave Cathy a piece of evidence about the case. Her investigation is what led to her kidnapping. It’s my fault Jake. If I hadn’t given her that piece of evidence, you probably would have grown up with a mother.”

Jake looked at Joe and said, “You couldn’t possibly have known what would happen.”

Joe looked at Jake astonished and then laughed bitterly.

Jake asked, “What?”

Joe shook his head and said, “Those were her exact words last week in this very office. So why do I still feel like I ruined her life? If it wasn’t for me she could have lived happily ever after with your father and you. But she doesn’t blame me either.”

The last words hung in the air. Jake finally replied, “’Happily ever after’ is for fairy tales Joe. There are no fairy tales.” He turned and picked up the next folder.

Jake opened the file labeled Elliot Burch.

A burned hotel. Over 200 people dead.[45] There were photographs of what looked like a burned out boat. “How does this Elliot Burch fit into this?” he asked.

Joe was forthcoming, “Cathy dated him for a while. I think they were pretty serious. But something happened that ended it. He was still in love with her though. He was investigating her disappearance and then her death. It got him killed.”

Jake felt like the air in the room was getting oppressive. He was beginning to wonder if he really wanted the answers after all. But his desire for the truth prevailed and he opened the next file on John Moreno. When he got to the photographs of Moreno’s dead body at the Central Park carousel, he froze. The autopsy said his wounds were consistent with a mauling by a wild animal. Jake wondered …

He sat staring at the last two files.

He held his breath as picked up the “Vincent” file and slowly opened it. There wasn’t much in it. A smudged fingerprint. Copies of inscriptions from books written in his father’s hand. A handmade invitation to a concert. A photograph of a chunk of cement with the name “Vincent” carved into it. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally he opened the Catherine Chandler file. He was met by an old photograph of her.

She was young and beautiful. She looked happy. Jake could see why people loved her. There were newspaper articles. One showing her with her face slashed. He knew from his father that that was when he and Catherine had met. He looked at the crime scene photos of her “death”. Photos of people who attended her funeral. Jake recognized some of them, Pascal, Father, Mouse, Cullen and others, and wondered what Joe knew about them.

Feeling overwhelmed Jake began to breathe deeply and slowly. He closed his eyes and bowed his head over the desk while raking his hands through his hair as if he were going to pull it out.

Expressing his concern, Joe asked, “Are you all right, Jake?”

When Jake finally spoke, he asked, “These crime scene photos at her apartment … is that really her in the pictures?”

“Yes,” Joe said.

“Are you sure?” Jake asked.

“I’m sure, Jake. I was there. I saw her myself. It was the worst day of my life.”

“How did she do it, Joe? How did she convince everyone that she was dead?” Jake asked.

Joe looked at Jake in disbelief. “She didn’t ‘do it’ Jake! It was done to her! You can’t possibly believe she was part of that?”

Jake looked squarely at Joe and said, “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Joe thought for a moment and then said, “You know, Jake, you are so full of self-righteous anger at Cathy for lying all these years. But she isn’t the only one who lies, is she?”

Jake backed up a little and looked at Joe with a confused expression on his face.

Joe reached into the pile of pictures and pulled out the photo of Father and laid it down on the desk. Then he picked up one of the photos of Catherine and laid it next to the first one. And then he picked up the photo of Vincent’s name and laid it down with the other two. He put his finger on the first photo and said, “Jacob”[46] . When he placed his finger on the second photo, he said, “Chandler”. And then he rested his finger on the last photo and said with emphasis, “VINCENT”

Joe laughed a little and shook his head and said, “I feel so stupid! I can’t believe that I never made the connection before.”

Jake could feel his face getting hot. Joe was getting uncomfortably close to his secrets.

Joe said, “You told us that your parents were dead, Jake.”

“At the time I thought my mother was dead,” Jake replied weakly.

“And your father? Is Vincent your father, Jake?” Joe asked.

Jake was silent. He swallowed hard.

Joe spread out the photos from Catherine’s file of the people who attended her funeral and asked, “Do you know who any of these people are, Jake?”

Jake was silent again.

Joe quietly asked, “You’ve lied to us, Jake. Have you lied to my daughter?”

Jake jumped out of the chair and said, “NO! No Sir, I have not lied to Becka. She knows everything … everything about me.”

Joe nodded and said, “So you have asked our daughter to lie to us?”

Jake was clearly shaken. “Sir … I … I have my reasons.”

Joe suddenly had a flash back to a day years ago when Catherine had said those exact words[47] to him. He said, “Huh … un … be… lievable … you are so much like her, it’s spooky.”

Jake felt the need for air. He said, “If we’re done here, I’ll go now.”

Joe stood in front of him. “We are NOT done here, Jake. You said you wanted the truth. Sit back down.”

Jake sat back down and asked, “That’s not it?”

As Joe pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and put it in his computer he said, “No, there are still some things you need to see.”

Joe put the flash drive in the computer and brought up three videos.

Jake was silent as he watched Joe’s first interview of Catherine. He recognized the face of the woman he had met in Thailand. The woman who was now laying in the hospital in a coma. As he listened, he was especially interested in the things she said after the interview when she thought the camera was turned off …

He heard her say, “What am I doing? I’ve spent the last 25 years trying to protect the people that I love and now I am putting them all in danger. I don’t think I can do this. They don’t deserve this.”

And then as she spoke to Joe, and she said, “Joe, I’m not sure I want to move forward with this.”

Jake watched as Joe spoke softly and encouragingly to her saying, “Hey, Cathy, I know this is hard, but what the people you love deserve is to have you back. They deserve to know the truth. You deserve to have your identity back. You deserve to have your life back. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. There is no reason to believe there is still any danger.”

Jake could feel something within him soften as he heard the pain and doubt in her voice and saw the longing in her eyes as she said, “How can they ever want me back? How can they ever forgive? It’s going to cause so much pain, Joe.” … Jake watched as she raked her hands through her hair (much the way he did in times of stress) as she said, “All I wanted to do was to die with my own name. I didn’t want to cause any more pain. There has already been too much pain." Jake thought it sounded like she was talking more to herself than to anyone in the room.

As Jake watched the second interview with the Police Chief he leaned in close to the screen as the camera went in close up to the scar on Catherine’s wrist.

He paused the video and turned to Joe and asked, “What is that?”

Joe answered, “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

Lastly Joe played the video that was found in Catherine’s grave.

Jake watched in amazement as he saw the face of his childhood angel standing by a window looking out at the world. She looked so sad. Then with keen interest as he witnessed his own birth. And then with horror as he watched Catherine be branded and taunted. He recognized the stony expression on her face as Gabriel taunted her. He had seen it just a few days ago as he had berated her in Becka’s office. The voice of her tormentor sounded vaguely familiar. And then … when Gabriel’s sinister face appeared on the screen, Jake cried out in terror and jumped out of his seat so fast that he fell backwards over the chair, landing in a heap on the floor behind the desk. Scrambling to his feet, he ran to a far corner of the room as if he was being chased by a demon.

Joe went after him. When he reached Jake, he was huddled in the corner trembling and shaking his head back and forth. Looking at Joe, he said, “That’s not real. That can’t be real. It’s not real.”

Jake spoke gently to him. “It is real, Jake. The branding iron was in the casket with the video. Her DNA was on it.”

Jake began sobbing uncontrollably. Joe reached down and put his arms around Jake. Jake held on to him until he could get control of himself. After a few minutes he ran over to the desk and unceremoniously deposited his breakfast into Joe’s wastebasket. He sat back in Joe’s chair and closed his eyes. After taking a couple of deep breaths he said, “I always thought that man was a figment of my imagination. Who is he?”

Surprised by the question, Joe asked, “You recognize that man? NO WAY, Jake, that is not possible.”

Jake explained, “That face … that face has haunted my dreams ever since I can remember. Ever since I was little. I’ve always called him, ‘the bad man’. Sometimes he has gashes across his face.” As he described him he held his hand up to his left cheek. “I didn’t know he was real. Does he have a name? Who is he?”

Joe was stunned but answered, “His name is Gabriel. He’s responsible for all of this ... death.” as he indicated the files of death and destruction strewn across the desk.

“Where is he now? What happened to him?” Jake asked.

Joe answered, “Burning in Hell is my best guess. He was shot and killed by a police officer named Diana Bennett.”

Jake nodded in shocked silence.

“Are you okay, Jake?” Joe was clearly concerned about Jake. “Look, I’m really sorry, but you wanted to know the truth.”

Jake put up his hand and shook his head, “It’s all right, Joe. I’ll be all right. Is that it? Is that everything?” he asked.

“That’s all I’ve got. There could be more, but I don’t have it,” Joe said.

Then Joe asked, “Jake, is my daughter in any danger? Is your father dangerous?”

“No Sir, my father is a good man. Sir, I promise you, I would never put Becka in any danger. I love her,” Jake assured him.

“Then why? Why the secrets? Why the lies?” Joe wondered.

Jake was slow to answer. Finally he said, “I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t tell you any more than that. Maybe someday, but right now …” he shook his head and said, “… I can’t”

Joe nodded and said, “In Cathy’s words … ‘I am choosing to trust you’, Jake. Don’t make me regret it. All right?”

“I won’t, Sir,” Jake said. And then he asked, “About the Foundation, Sir. If I accept the responsibility … what would it involve?”

Joe put his arm around Jake’s shoulder and said, “You know, Jake, I think you have had enough for one day. Don’t you? Go home and take it easy. We can talk tomorrow. Maybe there will be more news about Cathy by then.”

Jake just nodded and obediently left the office. But he didn’t go home. He wandered the city streets for hours. Eventually he found himself sitting on a bench in Central Park watching the people passing by, going on with their lives as if nothing had happened. How was it possible, he wondered, that my whole world could implode and no one noticed?

At some point he made his way to the hospital. Standing at the foot of her bed, watching her hooked up to monitors and IVs and a feeding tube, he wondered if she was cold. He approached the bed to cover her with a blanket. As he gently lifted her hands from beneath the covers he turned her hand over and exposed the scar on her wrist. He froze for a moment and recalled the video. He immediately dropped her hand as if it might burn him. He watched her for a few more minutes and then turned to leave.

****

Catherine lay in the dark listening to the constant rhythmic sounds around her. She felt someone enter her darkness. She thought it was Jake, but she couldn’t see. He made no sounds, but he was her son and she could feel the pain that he was in. For a moment she thought she felt him touch her arm and then he let go and she was alone.

****

Becka was distraught by the time Jake got home. She knew from her father that he had left his office and headed for home hours before. She had called and texted him several times, but he hadn’t picked up or responded all day. When he walked through the door she flew into his arms. At first he was too numb to respond and then, like a drowning man he grabbed on to the only thing he had left in his world that he knew was real. He cried himself to sleep in her arms.

Silent Angel

Sometime in the middle of the night Gabriel’s face and voice invaded his dreams. He could hear the sinister voice saying, “I own you, I own your child, and I will own him.” Jake woke up with a start. And there she was, his angel, just as she had always been. He could not recall a time in his entire life when he had dreamed of “the bad man” and she had not come, to protect him, to calm his fears. She didn’t sing this time though. She just stood there. She looked very sad, like the angel he had seen in the video.

Becka quietly whispered in a groggy voice, “Jake?” Then she sat up with her eyes wide opened as Jake’s angel disappeared.

Jake turned to Becka and said, “I’m sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just dreaming.

Becka turned to Jake with a confused look on her face and asked, “Jake, who was that?”

Jake asked, “What are you talking about?”

Becka responded, “The woman? Over there? Who was she, Jake?” Then in realization she whispered, “Your angel.”

Jake looked at Becka in shock. “Becka? You saw that?”

Jake jumped out of bed and started pacing the floor. He was pressing his hands to the top of his head as if he was afraid it would explode. Finally he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“If you saw her … then she wasn’t a dream … she was … real. … I don’t understand. Becka, why would she come to me? After the terrible things I said … she still came.” He raked his hands through his hair and hung his head

Becka was concerned for him. She gently put her hands on his shoulders. She didn’t know how to console him. She didn’t know how to help him. So she was just there for him.

More Missing Pieces

Jake called the hospital at 3am to make sure that Catherine had not passed away. After all they had seen her ghost and that could mean …

“There is no change Mr. Vincent. We will contact you immediately if there is any news,” said the nurse at the other end of the line.

“Thank you,” Jake said as he hung up the phone. He got out of bed and put on his pants.

Becka stirred and reached for him. Realizing that he wasn’t there she sat up and asked, “What are you doing?”

I need to talk to my Dad,” Jake replied. “Joe told me everything he knows about Catherine and what happened back then. Now I’m wondering what my Father knows,” he said as he pulled a shirt over his head.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Becka asked.

Jake shook his head. “No, Becks, I want to do this on my own. But thank you.” Then leaning over to kiss her, he said, “I don’t know how I could get through this without you.”

“I love you, Jake Vincent,” she said as she reached up to stroke his face. “Don’t forget that. Do you want me to wait here ‘til you get home?”

“No,” he said. “If I need you, I’ll find you.” He kissed her again and left, grabbing a flashlight as he walked out the door.

When Jake arrived at his father’s chamber he could see that Vincent was asleep, so he walked to the mirror pool. He was able to watch the reflection of the first streaks of dawn shoot across the sky as the stars one by one went out. He smiled at the memories he had of this place. He could almost hear his father’s voice encouraging him as he taught him how to swim. The laughter of Jake and his childhood friends as they swam here still reverberated in his memory. There wasn’t a place in these tunnels that didn’t ring with echoes of his childhood. The memories comforted him.

“You look deep in thought,” Vincent said from behind Jake.

Jake just about jumped out of his skin. Holding his hand to his chest he said, “Dad, are you trying to give me a heart attack? I’m surprised I didn’t fall in. Backing away, his face became more serious.

“What is it? Something’s happened?” Vincent asked.

As they walked, Vincent patiently waited for Jake to speak. “I have a lot of questions, Dad. I don’t know where to start,” Jake finally said.

“I’ll answer any questions you have, if I can,” Vincent responded.

Jake handed his father the letter he had received from Catherine.

Vincent nodded from time to time as he read it. Handing it back to Jake he asked, “What are you going to do about this?”

“I don’t know,” Jake replied. “In the letter she said that her lawyer would answer any questions that I had. I certainly have a lot of questions, so I went to him. Did you notice the letterhead?” He handed the letter back to Vincent.

Looking at it he was a little surprise. “Joe Maxwell. Becka’s father is Catherine’s lawyer?”

“Do you know who he is, Dad?” Jake asked.

Vincent shook his head. “Besides your Father-in-Law? Who?”

Jake told Vincent about the meeting at Joe’s office. “He’s an old friend of hers from back then. So is his wife. Joe used to work with her in the District Attorney’s Office and Jen has known her since they were in college. He investigated her disappearance and death. He has a file with your name on it. He knows you’re my father.”

Vincent noticed that Jacob was avoiding even saying Catherine’s name. He just referred to her as “her”. Vincent looked deep in thought and nodded. “Yes, that’s right. He was a friend of Catherine’s. It was so many years ago, that I didn’t even make the connection.”

Jake said, “He knows your name, Dad. He showed me an interview with her. When he asked her about us, he asked about you by name. She shut him down. She wouldn’t even tell her lawyer who we were.”

Vincent recalled a long ago promise she had made to him … “Vincent, your secret is safe with me. I would never betray your trust.”[48]

Returning to the present he softly said, “No, she would never break her promise.”

After a brief awkward silence Jake decided to jump right to the heart of his questions. “Who is Gabriel, Dad?” he blurted out.

Vincent inhaled sharply. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he recalled the horror of those terrible days. Then he spoke softly, “He was … someone … something … so evil, Jake … beyond imagining … beyond any nightmare … beyond belief. How do you know that name?”

Jake recalled his reaction to the video. He said “There was a video in the casket among other things. She is on it. So is he. I freaked out when I saw his face. I didn’t know he was real. I thought he was only an image in my dreams.”

After catching his breath Vincent said, “I always knew that someday I would have to tell you … about him … about what happened. Are you sure you want to know, Jacob? You used to have nightmares about him when you were a child.”

“I want to know the truth, Dad. I’m trying to understand,” was Jake’s reply.

Vincent nodded and began telling Jacob the story. The story of his love for Catherine. The story of the terrifying illness that nearly killed him. The story of Catherine’s courage in saving his life. The story of his agonizing search for Catherine after she disappeared. The heartbreak of her death. The story of his search for their child, for Jake. The horror, the pain and the despair that Gabriel had wrought in their lives. The joy of bringing his son home. He tried to recall every detail. He didn’t want to leave anything out. If there was any chance for them to put the pieces back together, they had to look at all of them, no matter how ugly they might be.

Hours later as Vincent finished the tale, he said, “According to Peter, it was me that showed her the way out. He said she followed us into the tunnels and made her way through the tunnels to him.”

Silence settled around them. The ghosts of the memories hung so thick in the room that they could almost touch them.

“Dad? Why haven’t you ever told me these things before? Why did you keep it a secret?” Jake asked.

Vincent breathed deeply and answered, “It wasn’t really a secret, Jacob. It was just that you were touched by such evil from the moment you were born. You were surrounded by it for the months before I found you and brought you home. I wanted you to grow up as untouched by it as possible. Even then, somehow, he still haunted your dreams. I promised myself that I wouldn’t keep it from you when you finally asked. I always knew that one day you would.”

Jake replied, “I had a dream about him last night ... about Gabriel. When I woke up in the dark, she was there.”

“Who was there?” Vincent asked.

“My angel …Catherine … She was there. Just like she has always been there my entire life every time I ever dreamed about him... except she didn’t sing… She just stood there looking at me. She seemed … very sad.” Jake was silent for a moment and added, “Becka saw her too.” He waited for the words to settle and said, “If Becka could see her, Dad … then she isn’t a dream… She has to be … real. I don’t understand it. Why? How?”

Vincent was silent for a moment and replied, “I don’t understand it either, Jacob. Perhaps she is trying to protect you. She always calmed your fears.”

“But, Dad,” Jake replied with a raised voice, “She’s not dead. I called the hospital to be sure. She isn’t a ghost. How can it be if she isn’t dead?”

Vincent shook his head. “I don’t know, Jacob. I know it doesn’t make sense, but we know she’s been doing it for years. Don’t we?”

Jake raked his hands through his hair. In frustration he said, “I’m trying to figure out what the truth is, Dad. I’m trying to understand why she did what she did. But the more answers I get, the more questions I have. I can’t make the pieces fit together in any way that makes any sense.”

Vincent nodded, “That’s what I said to her the last time I saw her. She said that I shouldn’t waste my time trying. That the pieces will never fit back together.” He thought for a moment and said, “But I can’t stop either. They have to fit.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t stay away when she asked you to? Why you went back?” Jake asked.

Vincent nodded and answered, “She was trying so hard to keep her feelings from me. To keep me from feeling her pain. But I think, perhaps because of her illness, she was struggling to control it. There were moments when I could feel that she still loves me in spite of the fact that she was pushing me away.” He let Jake think about his words for a few moments and then said, “Just like I know that in spite of your pain and anger at Catherine, you still love your angel.”

Vincent could see the muscles in Jakes face flex as he clenched his jaw. Finally Jake spoke quietly. “Why didn’t she come with us, Dad? If she had just come home with us … instead … she walked away. Why?”

Jacob was thoughtful for a moment and asked, “I wonder if it has something to do with what he did to her?”

Vincent asked, “What? What do you mean?”

Jake looked a little surprised as he said, “The scar on her wrist.”

Vincent shook his head. “What scar? What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You haven’t seen it?” Jake asked. Then he explained, “She has a scar on her wrist. It’s a circle with a G in the middle. Just like this,” he said, drawing the scar on a scrap of paper. Jake closed his eyes and said, “He branded her, Dad. He burned this symbol into her skin. It was in the video. The branding iron was in her casket with the video.”

Vincent was shocked. “Jacob … are you certain?” he asked.

“Yes. I went to the hospital to see it for myself. I’m sure.” Jake answered.

Vincent closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Oh, Catherine,” he whispered to himself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Jake put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Dad? Why are you sorry?”

Vincent explained, “There was a time … when I always knew if Catherine was in danger. I protected her. After my illness, I lost that gift.  When she needed me the most, I wasn’t there for her. I failed her, Jacob.”

“Did she say that you failed her?” Jake asked.

Vincent shook his head. “No. She never said anything like that.”

“If she doesn’t blame you then you shouldn’t blame yourself,” Jake said, “What good does it do now anyway? It’s all in the past. Blaming yourself won’t change anything. I’m sorry I told you about it, Dad. I didn’t mean to cause you more pain.”

“No, Jacob, it’s all right. I’m glad you told me. I needed to know. It could be an important piece,” Vincent said. Then turning his attention to his son, Vincent asked, “Are you all right, Jacob?”

Jake smiled a little. “I don’t have an answer for that, Dad. But thank you for telling me the truth. I know the memories are difficult for you.” He embraced his father.

As Jake turned to leave, Vincent said, “Jacob.” Jake turned back to his father and Vincent said, “There is something you should remember as you search for the truth.”

“What’s that?” Jake asked.

“Something Father told me years ago… You need to remember that there is a truth … beyond knowledge[49] , Jacob, beyond everything we ever hope to know.”

“What is it?” Jake asked.

“It’s something you have to discover … for yourself … before you can understand it … before you can believe it,” was Vincent’s only reply.

Jake nodded as if he understood, but his brow was furrowed. He pondered his father’s words as he made his way out of the tunnels.

Exhausted, Jake returned home. He called his supervisor at the hospital. He called Joe and then he went to bed.

Accepting Responsibilities

After a few hours of sleep Jake felt again the pressure of two little arms around his neck and a soft voice saying, “Sank you bery much, Khun Doc Jake for you to be my friend.” He shook himself awake. After a little rest he felt more able to make some definite decisions. He headed for the hospital to meet with his supervisor and then to Joe’s office.

Sitting in Joe’s office he reflected on everything that had happened in the last few weeks. He had been so sure of himself and everything he believed. So sure of his past and confident about his future. Now it felt like everything was changed. He felt like he was walking in someone else’s life. Everything looked the same, and at the same time it all seemed strange and unfamiliar. He resisted the urge to panic when the waves of anger and pain and guilt washed over him. Then sometimes he felt as if he was trying to walk through thick mud and every step he took required all of his strength.

Joe came into the office and saw Jake standing at the window. Jake looked so sad and alone. Joe was reluctant to disturb him.

Without turning around Jake said, “I’d like to apologize, Joe. I’ve been kind of … out of control lately.” The words sounded lame even as he heard them coming out of his mouth. So he stood there for a moment feeling awkward until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Joe’s heart went out to Jake as he spoke. He couldn’t imagine how all of the recent events and revelations must be tearing him apart. Joe approached his son-in-law and put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. Jake turned to look at Joe.

“Hey, Jake,” Joe said, “I’m sorry too. This has got to be hard.”

Jake swallowed hard and nodded. He reached into his jacket and pulled Catherine’s letter out of his pocket and handed it to Joe. “If you don’t mind … I would like to deal with this too,” he said.

“What do you want to do about this, Jake?” Joe asked.

Jake turned back to the window. Through clenched teeth he said, “I’ll do it. I will take responsibility for the foundation. Just tell me what I need to do.”

“You don’t seem very enthusiastic. Can I ask why you’ve chosen to do it, when you clearly don’t want to?” Joe inquired.

Still looking out of the window, Jake answered, “I’m not doing it for her. She asked me to help someone … a little girl who doesn’t deserve to suffer just because I’m angry at her. The only way I can do that is with the foundation’s money.”

Joe nodded and said, “Well, if that’s your decision then we had better get to it. There is a lot you need to know. Do you have time now or do you need to go to work?”

Jake shook his head. “I don’t have to go to work,” he said sadly. “I met with my supervisor at the hospital this morning about … everything. My work has been suffering lately. He suggested that it’s probably best for me to take a leave of absence until I get through it all.”

Joe understood. “Well then, let’s sit down and get started.”

Over the next couple of hours Jake was schooled about the Catherine Chandler Foundation and her estate. He was shocked at how wealthy Catherine was. He was impressed by the amount of money that the Foundation gave to charities and scholarships. He was surprised to find out that the homeless youth shelter where he had met Becka, and where she now worked, was supported solely by the Catherine Chandler Foundation. He recognized the names of many of the scholarship recipients as children he had grown up with in the tunnels. The most stunning revelation of all was that the scholarships that had paid for virtually all of his education had come from her foundation.

He was struggling to take it all in. He put his head down into his hands and breathed deeply. When he finally spoke, he said, “I owe her everything. I have no idea how I will ever be able to pay it all back.”

Joe was confused. “What do you mean? You don’t owe her anything. I don’t understand.”

Jake looked up at Joe. The conflicting emotions were clearly written on his face and in his voice. “She pays Becka’s salary, Joe. She has paid for my entire education. Everything I have is because of her.” Shaking his head he exclaimed, “I am so angry at her for deserting me! I CAN’T … OWE … HER!”

Joe nodded and said, “Jake, Becka works hard at the shelter. She makes a difference there. The money she is paid isn’t charity. She earns it. And the foundation scholarships are all merit based scholarships. You earned those, just like everyone else on that list. They had nothing to do with the fact that she is your … you know … your … mother. No one on the scholarship committee even knew who you were. It’s my understanding that Cathy didn’t even know your name until recently. You don’t owe her anything.”

Jake laughed a little when Joe said that. He recalled that he had said those very words to his father not long ago. “That’s not what it feels like, Joe,” he said bitterly.

“Do you still want to do this, Jake?” Joe asked.

Jake nodded, “Yes, I still want to do it.”

After finishing up with the formalities, Joe turned to Jake, “You look exhausted, Jake. I can see that this has all taken a toll on you. Try to get some rest.”

Jake agreed. Shaking Joe’s hand he said, “Thank you, Joe. For trying to understand … for trusting me.” Then he asked, “Can I ask you something, Joe?”

Joe waited.

Jake said, “I’ve never actually known anyone that had this much money.” He paused for a moment and then said, “She didn’t act like someone who …”

Joe finished his thought, “Like someone who’s filthy rich?”

Jake nodded.

Joe thought for a moment and then asked, “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also?”

“Yes.” Jake said.

Joe shook his head and continued, “Money never was Cathy’s treasure, Jake. If it was, she never would have worked at the D.A.’s office. Cathy’s treasure has always been people. People who were helpless, the people that she knew, the people that she cared for, and especially the people that she loved.”

Joe noticed the shocked look on Jake’s face and asked, “What?”

Jake looked at him quizzically and said, “Just then … when you said that … something in your voice … the expression on your face … it reminded me of …”

“Who?” Joe asked.

Jake answered slowly, “… my father.”

As Jake left the office, he couldn’t shake his irritation at the way everyone seemed to speak of Catherine Chandler. He seemed to be the only one who was angry at 25 years of lies and neglect. Everyone else seemed to love her in spite of the deception she had perpetrated on them all. Feeling very isolated and alone, Jake found consolation in knowing that Becka was still there for him.

****

After Jake left his office, Joe had made a decision too. He opened the locked drawer in his desk and removed and envelope he had put there for safe keeping.

As he passed the receptionist on his way out he turned and said, “I need you to push back any appointments I have this afternoon. I’m going to be out of the office for a couple of hours. If there is an emergency, call my cell.”

The Book That Started It All

At the police department Joe sat across Greg Hughs’ desk.

“How is she?” Greg asked.

Joe shook his head. “Still the same, Greg. She’s still in a coma.”

Greg nodded, not really sure what was the right thing to say. “I hope she pulls through this,” he finally said.

“Me too, Greg. Me too,” Joe replied.

“What can I do for you, Joe? Is this a social call or business?” Greg asked.

Joe reached into his briefcase and pulled out the envelope with the book that had started it all.

Greg emptied it onto his desk and looked at it and read the note out loud. “‘What am I looking at?” he asked.

“That’s it, Greg. That’s the book that ruined Cathy’s life. The evidence that I gave her. It’s been missing all these years. She gave it to Peter Alcott so he could give it to me. Peter brought it to me a couple of days ago.”

Greg looked at it for a moment. Then Joe continued. “Greg, she thought she was still in danger. She thought there were more people involved. Is it possible that she was right? Could there still be someone out there who is threatened by her?” he asked.

Greg shook his head and answered, “I don’t know, Joe. I’ll have my people take a look at it. I don’t know what we can get from it after all this time.”

Joe leaned forward and said, “Listen, Greg, whatever you do with that book, be careful. A lot of people are dead because of whatever is in that book. I don’t want any more lives to be ruined because of it. Do you hear me, Greg?”

Greg nodded and asked, “Have you seen any strangers hanging around the hospital? Or anything out of the ordinary?”

“No, not that I can think of,” Joe said.

“I’ll let you know if we discover anything, Joe,” Greg said as he walked Joe out.

As Joe was leaving the building he spotted an old colleague coming in. They made eye contact and both stopped.

Joe was the first to speak, “Diana Bennett.”

She smiled broadly and approached him. “Joe Maxwell.”

Smiling, Joe said, “I didn’t really have a chance to talk to you last time I saw you. It was a pretty crazy day. Does Greg still have you consulting on the Chandler case?”

“Yes,” she answered. “But there really isn’t much to it. He just wants me to follow up on some old leads to make sure we didn’t overlook anything back then. But it was so long ago. I don’t expect to find much.

“Well, I just dropped something off with Greg that you might find interesting,” he said.

“How is Catherine doing, Joe? Is there any chance that I could interview her?” Diana asked. “I have some of questions I would like to ask her.”

Joe answered, “She’s still in a coma, Diana. Right now it’s not looking too good.”

“I’m sorry, Joe, I know the two of you were close,” she said.

Joe just smiled a little and said, “Thanks, Diana. I’ll let you know if anything changes. But you were in the interview the day she came in here. What else do you want to know?”

She shook it off, saying, “I guess it isn’t really that important. Never mind, Joe.” She couldn’t tell Joe that the real reason she wanted to meet Catherine was because she wanted to see, up close, the face of the woman who had broken Vincent’s heart so badly that he could never love again. She wanted to speak with Catherine so that she could understand what kind of woman would turn her back on her beautiful son.

Interrupting her thoughts, Joe said, “Listen, why don’t you send me a list of questions for her and when she’s feeling up to it I will ask them for you,” he offered.

Diana nodded

Before turning to leave, Joe said, “Okay then, I guess I’ll let you get to it. Why don’t we get together for lunch some time? It would be great to catch up.”

She smiled and said, “Sure, Joe, I’d like that.”

Then they went their separate ways, both knowing that it would probably never happen.

Follow Me Out of the Dark

3 weeks after Catherine’s surgery, Peter heard a knock on the balcony door. Peter went to investigate. He found Vincent waiting there looking out on the city skyline. Peter joined him and they stood there in silence. Peter could sense Vincent’s sadness.

At length Peter asked, “Vincent, what can I do?”

Vincent sighed deeply. “Peter, I need to see her. I need to see Catherine. She needs me. I can feel her slipping farther and farther away each day.”

“Vincent, she’s in the ICU. I don’t know how to get you past all of the hospital security,” was Peter’s reply.

Vincent asked, “Do you think Joe Maxwell could help me? Do you think he would help me?”

Peter was shocked at the request. “Vincent, what are you asking?”

Vincent said, “Do you think he would be willing to meet with me and help me see Catherine?”

Peter nodded, “I have no doubt that he would want to meet you. When?”

Vincent replied quickly, “As soon as possible. Tonight if he can.”

Peter said, “I’ll go call him right now. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Vincent said, “I’m desperate. I can feel her slipping away. I don’t know what else to do, Peter. She’s dying. She needs me. Jake told me that there is a video of Catherine that was in her grave. Do you think Joe would let me see it?

Peter nodded. “I’ll ask.” Then said, “Will you wait here?” He went to call Joe.

Vincent could hear Peter on the phone. “Hello, Joe. This is Peter. I know it’s late, but would it be possible for you to come over here tonight? …  Yes, I know what time it is. … There’s someone here that wants to meet you. …  It’s Vincent, Joe. Yes, Joe, Cathy’s Vincent. Jake’s father. … No, Joe, I’m not kidding. … That’s fine … yes … Oh and Joe? … He wants to see the video that was in Cathy’s grave. … Would that be possible? … Yes … and Joe … can you come alone? … Thank you, Joe. … All right … See you soon.”

Vincent could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. He placed his hand over his chest and breathed deeply in an effort to calm himself. As Peter stepped out onto the balcony, Vincent asked, “Do you think I can trust him, Peter?”

Peter looked worried. Then he said, “Catherine chose to trust him, Vincent. That says a lot. Joe and his wife have not left her side through all of this.”

Vincent nodded. Peter’s reassurance set his mind a little at ease, but his heart was still beating wildly when the doorbell rang.

Turning to Vincent, Peter said, “Vincent, why don’t you wait here on the balcony for a few minutes while I explain some things to him?”

Vincent, agreed. He waited on the balcony while Peter went to the door.

As Joe came into the room and looked around, he looked a little irritated when he didn’t see anyone there. “I thought you said Vincent was here, Peter?”

Peter was patient. “He is, Joe. But before I introduce the two of you there are some things you need to know. Please sit down and I will explain.”

Joe was impatient, but tried to keep it in check. He had never come this close to solving the mystery of Vincent before and he didn’t want this opportunity to slip away.

Peter began, “Joe, I have known Vincent for most of his life. Ever since he was an infant. He was abandoned as a newborn. He was raised by a small group of people who live, for the most part, secluded from the world.”

Joe asked, “Why? Are they fugitives? Why all the secrets, Peter?”

Peter answered, “No they aren’t fugitives as far as I know. They each have their own … reasons. But for Vincent, it was imperative for his safety. He would never have survived growing up in our world.”

“Why, Peter? Is something wrong with him? Is he deformed in some way?” Joe asked.

Peter thought for a moment, then answered, “I wouldn’t say “deformed”. His features are different from … well … from anyone … but not deformed. If he had grown up in this world, Joe, he would have been subject to constant ridicule at best. At worst he would have been killed or treated as an outcast, a freak. But where he grew up, among people who loved him and accepted him, he was able to survive and thrive.”

Joe was intrigued, “Peter, you’ve known Cathy since she was born too. Have Cathy and Vincent always known each other?”

Peter shook his head, “No. No that was just a coincidence. If you believe in coincidences. Years ago Cathy was brutally attacked. She was badly beaten and her face was slashed.”

Joe nodded, “Yes, I remember that. It was just before she came to work at the DA’s office.”

Peter continued, “Vincent was the one who found her unconscious and bleeding in Central Park. He took her home to his father and they stitched and bandaged her wounds and took care of her until she was strong enough to go home.[50] During that time Cathy and Vincent developed a deep bond. The love they had for each other was something … beyond anything I have ever seen or known.”

A distant memory replayed in Joe’s mind.

Catherine was in Joe’s office. She said, “There are things that you don’t know. Things … that I don’t share with anyone.”

“Well we all have our secrets,” Joe replied.

Catherine said, “There’s someone in my life that … I care very deeply for. Someone that I love.”

“Oh, well that’s great, Radcliff,” Joe responded.

“He’s been going through a difficult time lately,” she confided.

“What’s the problem?” Joe asked.

Catherine answered with emotion clear in her voice, “He’s not well.”

“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “Is there anything I can do?”

Sighing, she answered, “I don’t know. I’m praying.” She smiled a little.

“I’m glad you told me this,” Joe said.

Catherine looked relieved as she smiled and said, “Me too.” Then she added, “You have a heart like his.”[51]

Coming back to the present, Joe asked, “If they loved each other so much, then why did she let him believe she was dead for the last 25 years? What kind of love is that? And why hasn’t he been around for the last 3 weeks? If he loves her so much, why isn’t he there by her side at the hospital?”

Hearing a sound, they both turned to see Vincent standing there beside the balcony curtain. “I was hoping that you could help me with that, Mr. Maxwell.” There was a long silence as they all stood looking at each other. Vincent slowly removed the hood that partially obscured his face and said, “She needs me. She needs to know that I’m near. She’s lost and alone in the dark, Mr. Maxwell. … She’s been alone for too long. I can feel her losing hope. I can feel her slipping away. I don’t want to lose her again.”

Joe stood frozen in place. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He walked slowly toward Vincent. After looking at him closely, he asked, “You are the one that Catherine …? You’re Jake’s … father?”

Vincent nodded and said, “Yes.”

Despite his shock at Vincent’s appearance, Joe cautiously extended his hand and said, “Call me Joe.”

Vincent extended his hand and nodded.

Then Joe asked, “How is this …? I mean … How are you … even…?”

Vincent understood what he was trying to ask. He answered softly, “I don’t know, Joe. All I know is that this is what I am. This is who I am.”

Peter said, “Why don’t we all sit down? We might as well be comfortable while we talk.”

Vincent and Joe both turned toward Peter and nodded. The tension in the room was intense. Vincent spoke first. “Joe, your daughter, Rebecka … she’s an exceptional young woman. You must be very proud of her.”

Joe smiled and nodded, “Yes, we are. Jake is pretty special too. You did a wonderful job raising him, Vincent. He’s a good man.”

At that Vincent smiled too, and said, “I had a lot of help. He often reminds me of Catherine. This has all been very painful and difficult for him. I think Rebecka’s love is what’s holding him together.”

“Jake told you about the video that was in her casket?” Joe asked.

“Yes,” Vincent replied.

“He said he wanted the truth. I told him everything I know. He was pretty shaken up by it,” Joe said.

Vincent nodded. “Yes, he was, but he needed answers. He came to me afterward and I told him everything I know as well … everything that happened.”

Joe said, “Peter tells me that you want to see the video?”

“Yes, if that’s possible. I’m trying to understand what happened to her and why she left instead of coming home with me and Jake.”

“I don’t know if it will give you the answers you are looking for. It’s hard to watch,” Joe replied.

Vincent nodded.

Joe set up his laptop on Peter’s dining room table and Vincent began to watch. The video evoked emotions in him that were difficult to control. As he watched the image of the woman he had loved so many years ago, he was struck by her beauty and her sadness. He was amazed as he watched the birth of his son. Then seeing her pain and suffering at the hands of the monster who had destroyed her life filled him with rage. At the same time he was overcome by sorrow and guilt that he had not been able to save her. By the time the video ended with Gabriel’s sneering face, Vincent was shaking in an effort to control himself in Joe’s presence. He didn’t want to frighten him. He pounded his fist forcefully on the table and said Catherine’s name with such emotion that it shook Joe to the core.

Putting his head in his hands, Vincent began to weep as he said, “Oh, Catherine. Catherine. Catherine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Peter and Joe sat in silence as Vincent cried for several minutes. Gaining control of himself, Vincent said, “I’m sorry. I …”

Joe interrupted him, “There is no need to be sorry, Vincent. It has affected everyone who has seen it. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

Vincent said, “I expected that you would.”

“When Gabriel said, ‘I will own him too.’ was he talking about you?” Joe asked.

“Yes … I suppose he was,” Vincent answered.

“Did he?” Joe asked, “Did he ‘own’ you? Did he brand you too?”

“Jacob was very sick. I allowed myself to be captured by Gabriel, so that I could help my child. But no, he didn’t do that to me,” Vincent said.

“There was an electrified cage in the basement of his mansion. It had been ripped apart by someone or something incredibly strong. Can you tell me about that?” Joe asked.

Vincent was thoughtful before he spoke. “Joe … I’ve taken a great risk by revealing myself to you. But I am desperate to see Catherine. I don’t want her to die thinking that I have let her down again. I came to you because I need your help to see her. What Gabriel did to me back then … is meaningless. I’ve chosen to trust you because Catherine chose to trust you and because my son respects you. We love the same people, Joe. We both want them to be well. We both want them to be happy. Will you help me to see her or not?”

Joe was silent for a few moments. He was clearly considering the situation. “Catherine was moved to a private room this afternoon. We might be able to pull it off, but I can’t do it alone, Vincent” he finally said. “Would you allow me to call my wife?”

Vincent agreed.

A couple of hours later Vincent, Joe and Jen were in Catherine’s darkened hospital room. Joe was standing with Jen. Jen couldn’t take her eyes off of Vincent. Vincent couldn’t take his eyes off of Catherine. The only sounds in the room were the sound of the monitors. Most of her scrapes and bruises had healed. The bandages and staples had been removed from her head. Except for the cast on her arm and the tubes and wires she was hooked to, she just looked like she was sleeping. How he longed to scoop her up in his arms and take her home with him, where he knew she would be safe.

Even though she was unconscious, Vincent was hesitant to touch her. She had been so afraid to be touched in the days before she had collapsed. He approached her and quietly sat by her side. Oblivious to Jen and Joe, he took her hand and with his other hand he stroked her cheek. He turned her hand to look at her wrist. Gently stroking the scar there, he began to cry.

He kissed her wrist and said, “Catherine, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you from him. That last night in the garden, you said we had seven days. I lied that night, Catherine. I said that if you let me share those last seven days with you that I wouldn’t have any hopes or expectations. I tried. I really did. But I couldn’t help it. I love you, Catherine. I can’t help hoping. I’ve heard you calling out to me. I’ve heard you lost in the dark these last weeks. I’m here now. Follow my voice if you can, Catherine. Follow me out of the dark. I want you to come back to me. I need you to come back to me. You’ve been alone for too long, Catherine. It’s time to come home. There are people here who love you. There are people here who need you. I need you. Jacob needs you. I know he is hurt and angry right now. But he needs to know his mother. He needs to know how amazing, how beautiful you are. You deserve to know him. Come back to us, Catherine. Please come back.” He continued to hold her hand as he lay his head down against the side of the bed and quietly wept as he repeated her name softly over and over.

****

Sitting alone in the dark, Catherine wasn’t sure how long she had been there. Up until now she had only been able to hear the indistinct voices of those who came to see her. She had been unable to make anyone hear her calling out. She had nearly given up even trying. She suddenly felt someone touching her hand. Someone was stroking her cheek. Her heart started beating faster as she realized it was Vincent. She felt him kiss her wrist. When he began to speak, she could hear his voice clearly. “Vincent?” She stood up and began moving toward his voice. She heard him say, “Follow my voice if you can… Follow me out of the dark.”

“I’m trying, Vincent. Keep talking. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave,” she pleaded.

As she moved toward his voice the darkness began to lift a little. When Vincent stopped speaking she started to panic.  “Don’t leave me alone in the dark, Vincent. I don’t want to be alone in the dark anymore.”

Then she realized that she could still feel him holding her hand. She could hear him quietly crying and whispering her name. She kept moving toward the sound.

As Catherine’s eyes began to open she was confused in her unfamiliar surroundings. Then she saw him … Vincent at her side. His head was bowed and he was crying. She tried to reach out to him with her free hand. Her arm felt very heavy. With great effort she reached to stroke his hair. She tried to say his name, but she couldn’t make any sound come out. She squeezed his hand as tight as she could and he stopped crying.

The love and longing in Vincent’s voice was breaking Jen’s heart. She stood there, crying for both of them and everything that they had lost, when she thought she saw Cathy move. “Joe, look!” Jen gasped.

Vincent thought he felt something. He felt a warmth in his chest, radiating from her as she slowly recognized him. He stopped crying. He could have sworn she squeezed his hand. YES! She was definitely squeezing his hand. He thought he felt her lightly stroking his hair. Lifting his head he tentatively looked at her. Her eyes were blinking. She seemed to be attempting to focus. Her eyes seemed to lock with his and then … she smiled softly and squeezed his hand again. She lifted her broken arm with great effort and caught a tear with her finger before it fell from his face. Her arm suddenly fell to her chest. She started to close her eyes again. Her grip loosened and Vincent could see her fading again. He held her hand tighter, refusing to let her go and said, “Catherine! … Catherine! Stay here … Stay with me Catherine. Don’t let go, Catherine. …” And then he softly whispered in her ear, “I love you, Catherine. Please don’t leave.”

Catherine took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. She gripped his hand a little tighter.

Joe came forward. “Vincent, now that she’s awake doctors and nurses will be here soon. They will know from her monitors that something is happening. You need to go.”

Vincent tried to let go of her hand, but Catherine’s grip was too tight. He could see her pleading with her eyes not to leave. He wondered why she didn’t speak. Holding her hand to his chest he said, “Catherine, I have to go. I can’t be caught here. I promise I WILL BE BACK. Can you fight to stay with us? Please don’t slip away again. Joe and Jen will stay here with you. All right?”

Catherine’s grip loosened as her expression relaxed. Vincent reluctantly retreated from her bedside and left quietly the way he had come. Her eyes followed him until she couldn’t see him anymore. Jen rushed to her side.

Holding Catherine’s hand in both of hers, Jen said, “Cathy? Hey, Sweetie … welcome back.  It is so good to have you back. I have been so worried about you. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

The duty nurse came in and began checking monitors, taking vital signs. Looking closely at Catherine’s eyes.

Joe left the room to go call Jake and Becka. …

If It Isn’t Okay…

Thirty minutes later Becka slipped quietly into Catherine’s room and whispered something in her father’s ear.

Joe followed her out into the hall. As soon as the door was closed behind them he asked, “Where’s Jake? Is he coming?”

Becka quickly said, “Shhhh, Dad.” Then she whispered, “Jake’s here. He’s in the waiting room down the hall.”

Joe was confused. “Why are we whispering? Why isn’t he here?”

Becka rolled her eyes. How can he not understand? she thought. Then she said, “He doesn’t want to see her, Dad. Not if she’s awake.”

“Oh.” Joe nodded. Now he understood.

“If you need him for anything, we will be waiting down the hall, okay?” Becka added. She kissed her dad on the cheek and then turned back to where she had come from.

Becka could feel the growing distance between them. She was worried that eventually the strain on the relationship between her and Jake and her parents would be too much. She was afraid that eventually she would have to make a choice between them. For the most part, Becka tried not to think about it. But she knew that sooner or later, she would have to think about it.

Jake and Becka sat close together in the waiting room. As Jake held her close he was thankful for her love and support. At the same time he felt ashamed that he had been relying on her so much. She looked tired. He knew that the situation was putting a great strain on her relationship with her parents.

The door to the waiting room opened and Joe came in and sat down opposite Jake and Becka.

“So what’s the news, Joe? Have they told you anything? Is she going to be all right?” Jake asked.

“Right now, all we know is that she is out of the coma. They are going to assess her tomorrow. We will know more after that,” Joe replied.

“Do you know what happened? How did you get here so fast?” Jake wondered.

Joe said, “We were here with your father when she woke up, Jake. He was talking to her, pleading with her really, and she woke up.”

Jake was taken aback. He wasn’t sure if he heard Joe right. “Wait … What? Did you say my father was here? MY FATHER? I don’t understand. How could my father be here?” he asked.

“Your father reached out to me. I guess he was desperate. Vincent asked me if I would help him to see Cathy. He was sitting there talking to her, and crying and she just …”

Jake interrupted, “Joe, are you telling me that you actually brought my father here? Are you kidding me?!?! Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? How could you do that?” Jake sounded very angry.

Joe became defensive. “Look, Jake … Vincent reached out to me. He’s the one who wanted to come here. He said he had to see her. So Jen and I helped him. That’s it.”

Jake was pacing back and forth. He couldn’t believe that Joe would endanger his father like that. “You’ve seen him, Joe. You must know that most people who saw him would shoot first and ask questions later.  I can’t believe you put him in danger like that. For what?”

Joe was trying to explain. “Hey, wait a minute, Jake, your father is a grown man! No one made him come here. That was his choice. And it’s a good thing he did, because she responded to him. Cathy has been lying there in that bed for three weeks. She couldn’t respond to anyone, but she responded to him. She needed him.”

Joe’s defensive tone just made Jake angrier. “SHE NEEDED HIM? WHY IS EVERYONE SO WORRIED ABOUT WHAT SHE NEEDS? WHERE HAS SHE BEEN FOR THE LAST 25 YEARS WHEN WE NEEDED HER?”

Jen had come running when she heard the yelling. She was afraid of what she would find. She entered the room in time to hear Jake.

Jakes voice had become softer even though it was clear that he was trying to control his rage. “Where … was … she … when … he … needed … her? Where was she when I needed her?”

The defensive anger seemed to drain from Joe as he heard the pain in Jake’s voice. He could suddenly picture the little boy who grew up wishing he had a mother. And the little boy that had watched his father live for years without the woman that he loved.

Joe spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Jake. I really am. But this is something you have to take up with your father. He asked for our help and we helped. And I’m not sorry we did.”

Jake nodded, His suppressed rage was clearly visible on his face. He turned and left the room.

Becka was standing speechless in front of her parents. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, Dad. … but I have to go.” She turned and ran from the room. She caught up with Jake at the elevator and threw her arms around him. Becka had made her choice.

Jen came close to Joe and gently touched him and looked up into his face. “Hey, Joe, are you okay?” she asked.

Joe looked at her, the pain was evident in his eyes. “Did we just lose our daughter, Jen?”

Jen tried to smile through her threatening tears. She shook her head and put her hand on Joe’s cheek. “No, no, Honey, we haven’t lost her.”

“Because that’s sure what it feels like,” Joe said.

Jenny smiled and tried to sound cheerful, “It’s going to be okay, Joe. I promise.”

“It doesn’t feel okay, Jen. It feels much worse than okay,” he replied.

“No, it doesn’t feel okay right now,” she agreed. “But you know what they say, don’t you, Joe?”

He looked to her waiting for the answer.

She smiled and said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it isn’t okay, then it isn’t the end.”

Joe tried to smile, he put his arms around his beautiful wife and in that moment he truly understood what it was to cherish her.

Bringing Catherine Home

The next day when Jen entered Catherine’s hospital room, the first thing she saw was a huge bouquet of red and white roses. They were breathtaking and the sweet aroma filled the room. Leaning her face into the bouquet, she closed her eyes and inhaled the beautiful perfume. As she opened her eyes, she noticed a card nestled deep in between the stems. Opening it she was moved to tears as she read, “Catherine, With love all things are possible. Vincent”

She turned to Catherine. How she wanted to talk to her about Vincent, about her recovery and about their children. “Wake up Cathy. We have so much to talk about. You have been holding out on me, Sweetie. How in the world did you ever keep Vincent a secret? He loves you so much. Oh My Gosh, Cathy, he almost broke my heart last night. Is he really Jake’s father? C’mon, Cathy wake up so we can talk.”

Just then the nurse came in to check on Catherine. “It doesn’t work that way, Mam.”

“What do you mean?” Jen asked.

“Patients waking up from this kind of brain injury … they don’t just start talking, Honey. It’s going to be a long time before she’s in any condition to talk to you about anything. Maybe even never. She’s got a long hard road ahead of her,” the nurse said.

“Why is she still sleeping? She was awake last night,” Jen inquired.

“Right now she’s sedated. It’s common for people coming out of a coma to be confused and agitated, sometimes even violent,” the nurse explained. “She’s been sedated so that she can’t hurt herself or anyone else. But don’t worry, Mam, she’s fine. She will probably be sleeping most of the day. She won’t know if you are here or not.” The nurse then turned and left the room.

After the nurse left the room Jen took Catherine’s hand and said, “What does she know, Cathy? The old busybody. She doesn’t know you. She has no idea how strong you are or how much you’ve already overcome. This is will be like a walk in the park for you.”

Jen sat with Catherine for about an hour and then she took Catherine’s hand in hers and said, “Hey, Cathy. They say you are going to be sleeping all day. So I’m going to go for now. I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.” She kissed Catherine’s forehead and left.

****

Late in the afternoon Catherine opened her eyes. The room was quiet. Looking around she felt slightly woozy and disoriented. Where am I? Am I in in a hospital? she wondered. The walls were white. It smelled … sterile. How did I get here? she asked herself. Trying to sit up she found that she couldn’t move. Her wrists and ankles were restrained to the sides of the bed. She could feel something tightly strapped across her chest and hips. No, no, no, no, she thought as she tried to push down the panic that was rising within her. The last time she found herself in this position was when … no, no, no … Calm down, Catherine. This can’t be happening again. It’s NOT HAPPENING! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! she told herself. It’s just a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re okay. She tried to force herself to remain calm as she tried to gently coax her right hand through the restraints. It didn’t work. The more she struggled the more difficult it became to suppress the panic. She could feel it rising from deep within her. The tightness in her chest. She tried to call out for help. She tried to scream, but no sound would come out. She began frantically thrashing against her restraints. Her chest was on fire. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. The nurse came in and seemed surprised to find Catherine awake and in such a state. She ran back out and came back in with a large orderly. Catherine froze. Every limb of her body felt like it was on fire. The orderly held Catherine down while the nurse gave her an injection.

“Don’t worry Miss Chandler,” said the nurse. “It won’t hurt. You will feel better soon.”

In Catherine’s head she was screaming, pleading, NO, NO, NO, No, no, no, no… until everything slowly went black.

****

Vincent had been restless since returning from the hospital the night before. Catherine was alive. She was awake. She had seemed so afraid to let go of his hand. But he had no choice. Leaving her so soon after she had awakened had been nearly impossible. He had lingered in a tunnel beneath the hospital for hours after he left her side. Finally returning home, he had found it difficult to sleep. Now it felt as if time was standing still. He was desperate for news of Catherine. He was desperate to see her again. He was wondering why Jake hadn’t come with any news.

Late in the day he was trying to pass the time playing chess with Father. But he was so distracted that he had already lost two games in a row. Father loved to win at chess. After all it was a rare treat when he played the game with Vincent. But two in a row was unheard of.

“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Father exclaimed. “You know how I love to win a good game of Chess, Vincent. But you aren’t even making an effort. There is no satisfaction is such a victory.”

Vincent appeared to be studying the game board, but he was actually so far away that he didn’t even hear Father’s complaint. Looking up he saw Father staring at him expectantly.

“Hmmm?” Vincent asked. He sighed heavily and said, “I’m sorry, Father, I just can’t seem to …”

Just then he was seized by a feeling of panic and dread. He knew instantly that it was Catherine. He struggled to catch his breath as her panic increased until she was in such a state of frenzy that he bolted from the room. His old instinct to save her at any cost had kicked in. He would not lose her again. He too was in a near frenzy as he approached the tunnels under the hospital. But as Catherine’s sedative began to take effect he felt her beginning to lose consciousness. “Catherine, no, no, no …” Then somehow through the primal rage that had overtaken him, he heard her voice…

“NO!” He heard Catherine say angrily. “No, you can’t protect me, Vincent. I won’t let you … do that … ever again.”

He turned left and right trying to determine where her voice had come from. Not seeing her, he answered into the darkness, “I want to protect you, Catherine.”

He heard her voice again, “I know you do. But I can’t let you. I won’t let you. That can’t be part of … who we are … ever again.”

He still continued to look in front, in back and from side to side trying to determine where her voice was coming from.

She continued, speaking softly, “I will try to keep you from feeling my fear. But if you do … promise me, Vincent, that you won’t come to me. You can’t come to me. I need you to promise.”

He could feel his rage was being replaced with despair. Calling into the dark, he said, “Catherine, what you are asking is impossible… I can’t… I can’t do that.”

Then he heard her softly reply, “Then my only option is to leave, to go as far away as I possibly can and never see you again.”

Her reply had been so soft that he finally realized that her voice was coming from inside of his head. He held his hands to his head and pleaded, “No, Catherine, no.”

And then he heard her say, “No one else can be hurt or die because of me.”

Vincent felt the last of the rage draining from his body. He leaned up against the tunnel wall and then slowly slipped to the floor. His desperation for her was evident as he softly repeated her name over and over. He could not control the fear that gripped his heart, not knowing what was happening to her.

He wanted so badly to rip the doors off of the hospital, or to crash through the balcony window of her hospital room and take her home with him where he knew she would be safe….But the conviction in her voice as she promised to go away and never see him again held him fast to the tunnel floor.

So he waited. He waited for the shadows of the city to lengthen. He waited for darkness to envelop the world above him. He waited for the city to slumber. And all the while he waited, he hoped and he prayed that she was all right. Finally he felt that the time was right and made his way up to the alley behind the hospital. Climbing up the fire escape the way he had done just the night before, he made his way to the balcony of Catherine’s room. The curtains had not been drawn, so he could see her laying on the bed. He waited to see if anyone would enter her room. After only a few minutes he could see a shaft of light from the hallway stream across the floor as a nurse entered the room. She walked to Catherine’s side. He saw a syringe as she injected something into her IV. A low growl from deep within him escaped before he could stop it. But he stayed perfectly still as he watched the nurse tuck the blanket tightly around Catherine. And then she left.

Vincent managed to slowly pry the lock of the window and slid it open. When he reached Catherine’s bedside he could see that she was sleeping soundly. He wanted to touch her, to hold her hand. Pulling back the blanket he discovered the restraints that were keeping her tightly secured to the bed.

No wonder you were filled with such terror, he thought. Didn’t they know what this would do to you? He could feel the rage rising in him again, filling him, over taking him. Then he heard her voice again saying, “That can’t be part of … who we are … ever again.”

Vincent was able to calm himself enough to think more clearly. He quickly unfastened her restraints, removed her IV bag from the pole and wrapped her in the blanket. Lifting her from the bed, he quietly slipped out of the window onto the balcony and managed to slide the window shut behind him. It was only a few minutes before they had reached the safety of the tunnel beneath the hospital. When Vincent felt that they were a safe distance away, he leaned his back against the wall of the tunnel and sat on the floor with her in his arms. He was shaking from the intense emotions as the adrenalin in his body began to subside. He needed a few minutes to recover.

As he watched her gently breathing, he recalled the last time he had held her this close in his arms. He remembered the last time he had carried her to safety. It was the night she had died.

He held her close to his chest and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Catherine. I won’t let you go this time. I won’t let you be hurt again, I promise.” He closed his eyes and breathed her in like a breath of fresh air. “Never again, Catherine,” he said. And then he rose and carried Catherine to the tunnels. She was too weak to protest and he wouldn’t have listened anyway. In the tunnels he could keep her safe. He was not sure what kind of care she needed, but he would at least know that she was safe and she was alive.

Stop and listen as Vincent carries Catherine home.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jpV46ycq0dQ

****

The sentries sent word on the pipes that Vincent was coming back, and that Catherine was with him. Vincent asked the sentry to instruct Father to prepare the guest chamber closest to his. Word of Catherine’s arrival spread quickly through the tunnel community. As Vincent neared the living quarters he began to see all of his dear friends lining the tunnels to see what was causing all the excitement. Mary and Father followed him in to help him get her settled.

“She is unconscious, Vincent,” Father stated. “She isn’t still in a coma is she?”

Vincent shook his head, “No, Father. I believe she has been sedated.” And then he stammered, “They had her in restraints, Father… RESTRAINTS!” He clutched the back of a chair in an effort to control his anger. “Didn’t they know? Didn’t they know what that would do to her?”

He was pacing back and forth. “She must have woken up and thought it was happening all over again… She was so frightened, Father. She was terrified … beyond all reason!” He paced back and forth even more. “By the time I reached the hospital, she had been sedated.”

Father was afraid to ask, but he had to know. “Tell me, Vincent, what did you do? What happened?”

Vincent’s pacing began to slow as he slowly calmed down. “I waited, Father. That’s all I could do. I waited … until it was dark … until it was safe. And then I went into her room through the balcony window and brought her home with me.” Vincent’s chest was heaving.

Mary placed her hand on Vincent. “Well, she is here now, Vincent. Don’t worry. She will be safe here. Let’s just let her sleep and we can all figure this out in the morning.”

Vincent rose from the chair and embraced Mary. “Thank you, Mary,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “Sweet, sweet, Mary. What would we ever do without you?”

Mary blushed terribly and pushed, Vincent away. “Ohhhh, go on with you, Vincent.” And she rushed him out of the room. Turning around she lifted her apron and wiped a tear from her eye.

Her Truth

As Catherine slept Vincent was restless. Having her so near brought back memories of another time so long ago when she had come to the tunnels to be healed by his love.[52] Memories and emotions that had long slept were washing over him. When he couldn’t sleep he usually walked the tunnels, seeking the quiet secluded places that brought him peace. But tonight he wanted to stay close to Catherine as she slept in case she woke up and needed him. Looking around for something to occupy himself, he noticed the box of books that Jake had returned to him a few weeks before. With everything else that had happened in the interim, the box had sat forgotten where Jake had placed it on that morning. Vincent began going through the box and placing his old friends reverently on a bookshelf.

What sweet memories he had of reading these treasured tales and poetry with his brother Devin, with Father, with Catherine and with Jake. The old friends in these books were as tangible to him as the real people who had blessed his life. They had been his faithful companions through good times and bad.

After placing a few books on the shelf Vincent turned and accidently knocked the box onto the floor, strewing the contents onto the floor. Kneeling to pick them up he noticed that some photographs had also fallen onto the floor. Reaching to pick one up, he realized that it wasn’t a photograph at all, but a postcard of … the Great Wall of China.

Smiling, he closed his eyes as he instantly recalled a half forgotten dream from a long time ago ...

He found himself walking on the Great Wall of China when he had seen Catherine there. He could feel the stones beneath his feet and the warmth of the sun on his face in the afternoon breeze … He began to walk and he thought he could see Catherine a little ahead of him. She stopped and turned.

As he came close, she smiled and said, “Come walk with me in my dreams, Vincent.”

At first he reached for her hand, but she carefully avoided his touch, so he was content to just walk by her side. It seemed to him that they walked for miles in silence side by side. Finally she turned toward him. He could feel the warmth of her love as she said, “If all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream … then I choose to dream of you.”

Vincent had treasured the memory of that dream as much as if it had really happened. As he turned the postcard over to see who it belonged to he froze … written on the back in a hand he recognized as Catherine’s was;

April 12, 1997

The Great Wall of China

Come walk with me in my dreams, Vincent.

If all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream, then I choose to dream of you.

---Forever, Catherine

How is this possible? Where did this come from? he asked himself. He looked back at the floor and reached for another postcard that had fallen there among the books….

…. Again he was taken by the memory of a vivid dream from long ago …

Vincent found himself wandering in his dreams in a strange and magical place. The sky was clear and blue. He was surrounded by ancient ruins of … Was it a palace? He wasn’t sure. Everywhere he looked there were ruined towers that still bore witness to their former grandeur. Here and there he could see saffron draped statues of Buddha. Most of the statues were broken. Then from behind one of the statues appeared … Catherine? She looked sad as she walked among the ruins. Vincent tried to catch up to her, to speak to her. She seemed oblivious to anyone around her. He followed her, intrigued. She walked around a large tree and stopped. She turned to Vincent and motioned for him to come closer. She pointed at the tree trunk and then he saw it. Over the centuries this tree had grown up through and around a part of the ruins and enveloped a beautiful head of one of the broken statues. It was breathtaking how nature had embraced the ruins and made something that was broken into something strikingly beautiful. And then he heard her speak.

Smiling, Catherine turned to Vincent and said, “Vincent, what a surprising reminder that there can still be beauty among the ruins.”

Vincent reached for her hand and she disappeared.

As Vincent turned this postcard over he read with shock again the words written by her hand …

April 12, 1993

Ayutthaya, Thailand

Dear Vincent,

What a surprising reminder that there can still be beauty among the ruins.

----Forever, Catherine

Vincent was so astounded and confused. How can these even exist? He wondered. He had never spoken of these dreams to anyone. He had tucked them away like sacred treasures in his heart. It wasn’t possible for anyone to know about them. … And yet … here they were … his private, treasured memories strewn across the floor of his chamber.

He reached to gather them up. Looking at them one by one, he was dumbfounded that each one evoked the memory of a dream he had had of Catherine. Some of them had nothing written on the back. The ones that did, had exactly the words she had spoken in his dreams.

Written on the back:

April 12, 1999

Sea of Stars, Vaadhoo Islands, Maldives

Vincent,

There are so many amazing and beautiful places in the world. How I wish I could share them with you. ----Forever, Catherine

Written on the back:

April 12, 2000

Sacred Mayan Sinkhole, Yucatan, Mexico

April 12, 2000

Vincent,

I guess we all have our sacred places. I carry mine in my heart.

---- Forever Catherine

Victoria Falls, Cape Town, South Africa

Written on the back;

April 12, 2002

Shifen Waterfalls, Taiwan.

Vincent,

If I close my eyes I can almost imagine another waterfall in another world, in another life. I go there sometimes in my dreams.

----Forever, Catherine

Venice, Italy

As Vincent gathered up the post cards he felt as if someone had reached inside of his heart and revealed his most private and treasured memories. Looking toward her room he asked, “Catherine, how did you do this?” One by one he picked up the books from the floor. He held up each one at eye level with the spine toward the ceiling. He thought if these postcards had come from one of the books, it was possible there were more. Perhaps by holding the books in such a way, they might fall out and he could discover where they had all fallen from. “Ivanhoe” revealed nothing. “Dorian Gray”… nothing. Surely “Great Expectations”… but no … He then picked up what looked like one of his old journals. Holding it high and shaking it, his efforts were rewarded as two more postcards slipped effortlessly from its pages and fell to the floor. He stood looking at them in wonder. Bending to retrieve them he could see that they too were pictures that had been plucked from his dreams.

Cherry Blossoms, Himeji Castle, Japan

Written on the back:

April 12, 2009

Taj Mahal, Agra, India

Vincent,

This is one of the world’s most beautiful monuments to love.

…But all remembered beauty is no more

Than a vague prelude to the thought of you –

You are the rarest soul I ever knew,

Lover of beauty, knightliest and best:

My thoughts seek you as the waves that seek the shore,

And when I think of you, I am at rest.[53]

---Forever, Catherine

He held each postcard gently and reverently in his hands, as if at any moment they would vanish into thin air and go back to wherever they had come from.

Looking closer at the book he held, he stood in wonder that they could have fallen from one of his own journals. But upon opening the book he realized that the journal did not belong to him. Yes, his name was clearly written on the inside cover, but it was in a hand that he instantly recognized as Catherine’s. In the middle of the inside cover, where one might find a book plate, were some words written in a spiral design. Where had he seen this design before? he wondered. Then remembering he began searching for the rose pendant that Jake had once shown him. Holding it up, he silently read, “Though lovers be lost love shall not; and death shall have no dominion … As long as I live … you … live … with me … in me … Always.”  He wondered again, How could she have known those words? and What unseen hand has delivered this book into my hands? He couldn’t help but think that he must be dreaming. Turning his attention to the fly leaf he saw a poem, also written in Catherine’s hand. He could hear her voice as he silently read …

Dearest Vincent,

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)[54]

Forever, Catherine

As Vincent read the poem an involuntary sob escaped his lips. The sound startled him. He went to Catherine’s room and stood watching her in amazement. She stirred a little, but she didn’t wake up. Still holding the book he exited the chamber. He reached out to the tunnel wall to steady himself as he wept there, with her sleeping nearby. His mind was reeling. He could not understand how this book had come to be here. He remembered the last night on Peter’s roof when she had said, “… I can’t explain it, what he did to me. I tried to make sense of it once. I wrote some of it in a journal. But I lost it. I don’t have the strength to explain it all again. It’s too difficult to even think about it. And I certainly don’t want to talk about it.”

Could this be the journal that she was referring to? thought Vincent. But if it is … how did it come to be in this box of books? How did Jake come to have it?

Vincent stared at the book for a long time trying to decide if he should read it. After all it was her journal. It most likely contained her most private and personal thoughts. But then again, it did appear to be addressed to him. Then he asked himself, If providence has put this book into my hands, then was I meant to read it?

Making his decision, he settled in his old chair in his chamber and he began to read.

“Where can I begin?” she had written. “I suppose I should begin in the cave where you came a breath away from dying in my arms. You knew that the connection we had with each other was broken that terrible night when you nearly lost your life. You assumed afterward that something must be broken in you. Not for one moment did you suspect any other possibility. I was waiting for you to regain your strength before explaining it to you. I thought there would be time for that. I was wrong. You see … the connection was broken by me…”

“No … Catherine … No ….” he whispered.

He could feel his heart breaking as he read of her regret at never having touched or held their child. He groaned as she recounted her fear and guilt over his illness and near death. His fought back a surge of emotion as he read, “…In those dark hours in that cave I made a bargain, a solemn promise with God, with the universe and with myself, that if by some miracle you lived through that awful night, I would do everything in my power to make sure you would never again feel my fear or be tortured by my emotions.”

As he read of her “death” and how she was awake and aware of every terrible moment, he felt as if he was reliving that excruciatingly painful night again. Only this time he was experiencing it through her …

“As I slipped into darkness, I felt so overwhelmed by the sweetness of you. You held me in your arms so gently and whispered my name. You smelled so wonderful. I could feel your tears on my face. It was as if I had been in the desert, dying of thirst, and your tears were the sweetest water I had ever tasted. I felt so safe in your embrace. I was finally home, in your arms. I could feel you carrying me. I was comforted by the thought that you were taking me home, to the tunnels, with you. I thought that even though I couldn’t live in your world in life, at least I could be there with you in death. I was finally going home to stay.

What a beautiful word that is… HOME.

After my father died, you became my only home Vincent. Some people dream of a home as a beautiful house filled with beautiful things. But Vincent, there was never a home more beautiful to me than the home you made for me in your arms. It was a wonderful place to die…if one must die… But then I didn’t die, did I?”

As Vincent’s tears dripped onto the journal pages he realized that Catherine had already stained the pages with her own. He lay the book down. The pain was too much. He didn’t think he could read any farther.

Just then Father appeared at the door of his chamber. “Vincent, you are still awake. May I speak with you? I have some concerns about …” As he approached Vincent he could see that he was very upset. “Vincent, are you all right? Is it Catherine? Is something wrong?”

Vincent said, “Father.” He was barely able to speak. Continuing he said, “… I failed her, Father. Catherine’s life was ruined … because I … I didn’t save her.”

Father said, “I don’t understand, Vincent. Why do you say that? Did she say that? Does she blame you?”

Shaking his head, Vincent replied, “No, No, she doesn’t blame me. She would never blame me. I just know.”

“Then why do you say that?” Father asked.

Vincent handed the book to Father. Father looked at it curiously. It just looked like one of Vincent’s many journals. “It’s her journal, Father. It’s Catherine’s.”

Father was understandably confused. “I don’t understand. Her journal? Where did you get it?”

Vincent replied, “A few weeks ago, Jacob returned this box of books to me. Tonight, as I was putting them away, I found this journal among them.”

Vincent tried to explain, “The last time I saw her she said that she couldn’t explain what had happened to her. That she had written it in a journal once, but that she had lost it. She said she didn’t have the strength to do it again.”

“Are you saying that she lied? That she didn’t lose it?” Father asked.

“No, Father,” Vincent said. “It was in this box of books that Jacob returned to me weeks ago. I don’t understand it either. I don’t think Jacob even knew he had it.” He paused for a moment and then said, “I’ve read the first few entries, Father. … I don’t know if I have the strength to read the rest. It’s too painful. But if I am ever to understand why she left … why she didn’t come home with us … if the answers are anywhere, Father … I think they will be there ... in the pages of that book.”

“Then you have no choice, Vincent,” Father said. “You must read it.” He reached out to Vincent and spoke softly. “If it helps, why don’t we read it together?”

Vincent took Father’s extended hand and nodded. Vincent began again at the beginning. When the reading became too difficult for him, Father would read for a while. Together they marveled at her strength through what Gabriel had done to her. They read of her love for Vincent and Jacob as she witnessed their first meeting. Then they read of her reaction to seeing Vincent tortured …

“Gabriel said ‘No one is unbreakable.’ He was right. I felt something shatter inside of me that day to see you suffer so. There are no words to tell you how sorry I am for what you went through because of me.

I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for what you have suffered because you chose to love me, Vincent. I vowed then that if by some miracle we lived through it all, that I would go as far away from you as I possibly could to protect you from me. Knowing that I only have the power to cause you pain, Vincent….breaks my heart. Please believe that all I ever wanted to do was love you. I never wanted to hurt you … I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….

Vincent could feel himself losing control. He stood up and began pacing back and forth trying to get a grip on his emotions.

Father waited a few minutes and then said, “Vincent, are you all right?”

When Vincent spoke his voice was filled with emotion. “How could she think that, Father? How could she …. ?” He couldn’t finish his thought. He was too choked up by emotion. Then he continued, “Peter told me that she blamed herself for everything … everything that happened. I didn’t understand what he meant.” He groaned and said, “Oh, Catherine!”

“Vincent,” Father began, “she loved you. She felt responsible for your suffering. The same way you blame yourself for not saving her. When the truth is … that neither of you were responsible for what happened. Paracelsus and Gabriel were evil men and you were caught up in that evil. There is nothing that you did or didn’t do that caused it. It’s a miracle that you survived at all.”

“But Father,” Vincent protested. “If I would have just brought her home to the tunnels with me that night, instead of taking her to her apartment … things might have been different.”

“You don’t know that, Vincent!” Father tried to make him understand. “If you had brought her here, she most likely would have died. There was no way of knowing what drug she had been given to mimic death. Or if she needed an antidote. And even if what you say is true, there is no way of changing it now. All you can do is be here for her now. She needs you now, Vincent. You can help her now.”

Vincent nodded. Father was always able to help him put things in perspective. He nodded and said, “Yes. Yes, I suppose you are right.” He felt calmer as he said, “Should we continue reading, Father?”

As they continued they learned of her eventual escape. “So it’s true,” Vincent said. “She did follow us into the tunnel.”

They read of her new identity and her aching loneliness as she wandered the world. Her journal entries were few after August of 1992. She often commemorated the day they had met, April 12th with a small entry or a heartbreaking poem. She remembered Jake’s birthdays with sadness that she was not there to see him grow up. From time to time she recorded her dreams. Vincent read with deep interest …

June 16, 1995

In my dreams last night I found myself in the tunnels under the stage in Central Park. I could see you there with our son. In my dream they were playing Schubert and it started to rain. He began to laugh and dance in the rain and it made me smile as I remembered what we shared there. Sometimes I remember such moments of joy that we shared and I feel so blessed. As I watched you both, I began to laugh and suddenly you both stopped and looked at me. And then I woke up.

… how I wish I could have stayed a while.

If I Had But Two Little Wings

If I had but two little wings

And were a little feathery bird,

To you I’d fly, my dear!

But thoughts like these are idle things

And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:

I’m always with you in my sleep!

The world is all one’s own.

And then one wakes, and where am I?

All, all alone.

SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE

The passage moved Vincent to silence. Father and Vincent were both dumbfounded by the revelation.

Vincent finally spoke. “That’s how she did it, Father.”

“It’s remarkable. It’s almost unbelievable,” Father said.

When he read of her dream in the Great Hall, he remembered vividly how beautiful her spirit had looked as she danced around the chamber. The pain became almost unbearable as he read,

“You once told me, that one day I would live another life, and dream another dream …. You were only half right, Vincent. I am living another life. But there will never be another dream. My only dream is of the life I should have had with you.”

Vincent spoke in a reverent tone. “All those times over the years when we saw her ‘spirit’ in the tunnels. When she sang to Jacob as a child. She was actually coming here in her dreams. We saw her in her dreams.”

Father was thoughtful. “I always thought that your connection, your ability to sense her emotions was because of your gift, Vincent. But it never occurred to me that it was a gift that both of you shared. I believe your bond truly is unbreakable. I wonder if she knows that she was actually here?” he asked.

Vincent shook his head, “No, Father. I don’t believe she realizes that.”

Eventually they arrived at the last entry.

April 12, 2014

Dear Vincent,

27 years ago today. Twenty seven years since you came into my life and changed me forever. How oddly appropriate that on this day, of all days, I would meet our son, Jacob Chandler Vincent. He is more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. What a wonderful job you have done, Vincent, in raising him. He has your amazing, gentle eyes and he has your heart. He is a good man, so much like you.

I was shaken and afraid when I realized just who he was. How I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him how much I love him, have always loved him, and how proud I am of the man he has become. But as always, I know that he can never, never know who I am. I can’t imagine the pain it would cause him to know that I deserted him. Could he ever understand? Could he ever forgive?

After this morning the danger will pass and we will both go back to our separate “worlds”. But I will be forever grateful for the gift I have been given today. I never imagined that in a world of 7 billion people that I would meet our son by chance in this far flung corner of the world. Albert Schweitzer once said that “Coincidence is the pseudonym dear God chooses when he wants to remain incognito.” If that is true, then I have God to thank for giving me such a wonderful, if bittersweet, gift today. I feel like my heart is full and breaking at the same time.

To both of you all a can say is… I love you, I love you, I love you and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Forever, Catherine

As Vincent slowly closed the book, he and Father sat in silence letting it all sink in. When Father finally spoke, he said, “Well, now you know. Does it help at all?”

“I’m not sure yet, Father,” Vincent answered. “I don’t understand how she could blame herself for everything that happened. Doesn’t she realize that it was her love that saved me? I only lived because of her. Even after it was all over …” He shook his head and said, “I think if I hadn’t had Jacob, I never would have survived the pain. … She sacrificed everything … everything for me … for us.” For a while the only sound in the room was the sound of Vincent softly crying.

“Vincent, you should get some sleep. She is going to need you when she wakes up.” Father suggested.

Vincent nodded. “Yes.” Then turning to Father he said, “Thank you, Father, for being here for me tonight … and my entire life.”

Father’s eyes shimmered with tears as he smiled at Vincent. He reached out and squeezed Vincent’s hand.

Vincent struggled to fall asleep. His mind kept going over everything he had read. When he finally fell asleep he dreamed that he and Catherine were in a boat drifting in a lazy river deep beneath the city.

As she looked up at Vincent with love in her eyes he said, “Catherine … on the journey I felt for the first time as if somehow you were lost to me. I knew you were in danger and yet I could sense no fear.

Catherine answered, “I was afraid, Vincent, but I couldn’t allow myself to feel the fear.”

Vincent understood. “You didn’t want to draw me.”

“I couldn’t,” she replied.

Vincent spoke in awe as he softly said, “You sacrifice so much.”

She smiled, ever so slightly and said, “I would sacrifice everything for you.”[55]

Vincent woke up suddenly and sat up. He shook his head as he heard her voice echo over and over, “I would sacrifice everything for you … I would sacrifice everything for you … I would sacrifice everything for you …”

“Catherine,” he whispered as he realized that his dream was actually a memory of something she had said to him years before. He rose and walked the short distance to the chamber where she slept. There was one lone candle flickering in the room. Watching her in the dim light he spoke softly. “You once told me you would sacrifice everything for me, Catherine. I didn’t know then what that really meant. But that’s what you did, isn’t it? You sacrificed everything ...  everything for me.”

He pulled a chair up close to the side of her bed and fell asleep there watching her breathe.

Trapped In A Dream

A few hours later Catherine opened her eyes to see Vincent sitting beside her with his head resting on the side of the bed. He was sound asleep. Looking around she could see that she was somewhere in the tunnels. She was disoriented and confused. I must be dreaming, she thought. It was the only explanation for how she could be here. She was content to watch Vincent’s deep even breathing. She had had similar dreams many times over the years and she knew that as long as she was careful not to touch him, the dream would continue and she might be able to stay for a while. For her, these were always the sweetest dreams. The memories would often linger long after she had awakened. They gave her strength.

Presently Vincent began to stir. He opened his eyes to see that she was awake and watching him. She had a smile in her eyes but it didn’t quite reach her mouth. He smiled at her and reached for her hand. Immediately her expression changed to one of fear and as she breathed in sharply she snatched her hand away before he could touch her. Misinterpreting her action he rose to leave. He didn’t want her to see how much it hurt him to see the fear of him in her eyes or for her to recoil at his touch in such a way.

“I’m sorry Catherine. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ll leave,” he said. But as he looked at her he could see her expression change. She looked confused and in her eyes … was she pleading?

“Catherine?” he asked. “Do you want me to stay?”

She nodded her head as she tried to speak. But she couldn’t.

“But you don’t want me to touch you?” he asked.

She shook her head again.

Then he asked, “What would you like me to do?”

He could see that she was trying to speak. Finally she closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply as if trying to calm herself. She looked away, trying to hide her frustration.

Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, being careful not to touch her and spoke softly. “Catherine, would you like me to read to you?”

Slowly she turned back toward him and nodded ever so slightly.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll go get a book.” Vincent went quickly to his room and searched for something he could read to her.

What’s happening? she asked herself. How am I here?… Why aren’t I waking up? Vincent can’t find me. He can’t know that I’m alive. I need to get out of here. But however she tried she couldn’t get out of the dream. She couldn’t wake up.

She pulled back the covers and tried to stand up. If she could get out of her dream before he returned, maybe … As she stood, her legs gave way under her and she fell to the floor.

Vincent chose a few books and returned to find Catherine in a heap on the floor. Dropping the books, he rushed to her side. “Catherine, are you all right?”

As he ran to her, she sat up with difficulty. As he reached to help her she slapped his hand away and tried unsuccessfully to get up on her own. After struggling for a few minutes she gave up. Leaning against the bed she closed her eyes in resignation. She held her hands to her head as if she was in pain and then covered her face with her hands and leaned her head back against side of the bed, exhausted.

What’s happening? she asked herself. How am I here?… Why aren’t I waking up? Watching her struggle was difficult for Vincent to witness. He stood silently watching her. When she had worn herself out, he bent toward her and lifted her onto the bed.

“Would you still like me to read to you, Catherine?” he asked softly.

As she looked up at him he could see the anguish and confusion on her face. Then she turned her back to him and closed her eyes.

Vincent had no way of knowing what she was thinking and he couldn’t feel their old connection. He was fighting his own feelings of the pain from her rejection of him. He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how. He retrieved the books he had dropped and placed them quietly on her nightstand and left the room. He stood for a few minutes just outside Catherine’s chamber trying to calm himself.

Catherine lay in the silence with her face in her hands. She was trying to control her emotions, but she was disoriented and confused. Her head ached and she was exhausted even though she had only woken up a few minutes before. She was soon asleep and found herself wandering the tunnels in her dreams…. Or was she awake? …she wasn’t sure anymore... She headed for the waterfalls where she could find a place to think.

Vincent wanted to help Catherine, to protect her, to nurse her back to health. He was filled with feelings of desperation, because he didn’t know what to do for her. He was beginning to wonder if bringing her here was the right thing to do after all. But what were his options? He couldn’t leave her where she was. Where she was, she was frightened and confused and alone. They had no idea what she has already been through. Here he could keep her safe. The thought of losing her again was more than he could bear. It was unthinkable. He didn’t care if she was ill …

Vincent sought out Father for his advice. He heard someone talking with Father as he approached his chamber. Entering, he immediately saw an old friend. “Samantha? Is that really you? How long has it been?” he exclaimed.

Samantha rushed to embrace her old teacher. Her eyes shone with love for her old friend. “Yes it is really me, Vincent,” she said. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Oh, how I have missed this place. I’ve missed you too. Just the smell of the tunnels brings back such wonderful memories. I have stayed away from here far too long. I’m sorry, Vincent.”

Vincent just smiled down at her. “Why are you here now, Samantha?” he asked.

“Geoffrey brought me word early this morning that you needed a doctor… for Catherine Chandler. Is it true, Vincent? Is it really her?” she asked.

‘Yes, it is really her, Samantha?” Vincent answered. “But she has been very ill. I’ll tell you about her illness while I take you to her.”

As they reached Catherine’s chamber, Samantha said, “It’s best if I examine her alone, if you don’t mind. People just coming out of a coma often feel overwhelmed by too many people. From what you’ve told me she is already feeling that way. I will come and find you as soon as I’m finished.”

Vincent nodded. “Thank you, Samantha, for coming,” he said as he turned to leave. Vincent returned to his chamber deep in thought. He was surprised to practically run into Jake as he was rushing from the room. Both surprised they stared at each other momentarily.

“Jacob? Are you all right? Is something wrong?” Vincent asked.

Jake stared at his father. How could he tell him what had happened? Finally he blurted it out. “She’s gone, Dad. She’s disappeared from the hospital. No one has any idea what has happened to her.”

“Who? Do you mean Catherine?” asked Vincent.

Jake tried to explain, “Yes. Yes I mean, Catherine. Dad … the police have said that there is nothing on the surveillance cameras. They have no idea how anyone could have gotten her out of there. They know she couldn’t have done it on her own, she’s too weak.”

Vincent put his hand on Jake’s shoulder and interrupted him. “Jacob. Jacob. It’s all right. She’s here. She’s safe.”

Jake stopped short. He looked confused. “She’s here?” he asked. “How did she get here? It’s my understanding she can barely stand … let alone, walk? For Heaven sake, she was …”

Vincent interrupted him again. “I brought her here. I carried her here. She didn’t feel safe where she was … Jacob, she was in restraints, and she was sedated. I couldn’t leave her there.”

Jake was clearly agitated as he replied, “Dad, you don’t understand. That is common for patients like her. It was for her own protection … so she couldn’t hurt herself.”

Vincent shook his head. “Not for her, Jacob. Not for Catherine. They are the ones who don’t understand! She can’t be restrained like that! You know what she’s been through, Jacob. You saw that video tape of what happened to her. When she woke up like that, she was terrified. She is better off here at home, surrounded by people who love her.”

Jake continued to argue. “Dad, this isn’t her home! She doesn’t belong here! She belongs in a hospital. She needs specialized care. What were you thinking? She should be in a hospital or a rehab facility. She needs to be monitored. She needs physical therapy. She needs speech therapy. She may need meds.”

Vincent was firm, “She is frightened up there, Jacob. I can protect her here. We will give her whatever help she needs here. Tell me what I need to do for her and I’ll do it.”

Jake was silent for a moment and said, “Dad, I can’t condone this … or be a part of it. It isn’t … ethical. I can’t even legally practice medicine yet. I can’t help you.”

Vincent asked, “Are you sure that’s the problem, Jacob? Or is it because it’s Catherine?”

Jake was shocked at the question. His father’s accusation hurt him deeply. If he was completely honest, it was, at least in part, because Vincent’s question hit very near the mark. “Dad,” he said impatiently, “I don’t want to argue with you.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “You know how I feel about her! If she is here in the tunnels … I can’t be!”

Vincent was clearly frustrated as he spoke. “Jacob … she’s your mother. She needs your …”

“SHE IS NOT MY MOTHER!” Jake interjected. Then he spoke more deliberately. “Dad, she has never … been … my mother! I don’t know her! I don’t want to know her! She walked away and left us behind! If you choose HER … If she stays here … I don’t see how I can be in your life!”

Vincent was silent. He felt like his heart was being ripped in two. As Jake turned to leave, Vincent remembered Catherine’s journal. He called out, “Jacob.” Jake stopped and turned back toward his father. Vincent continued, “Please come back, I need to show you something.” Vincent moved toward the bookshelf and pulled out a book and handed it to Jake.

Jake was confused. Shaking his head, he asked, “What is this?”

“Last night I was putting away the books that you returned to me. This was in the box. … It’s Catherine’s journal. Do you have any idea how you came to have it?” Vincent asked.

Jake was even more confused. “Dad … I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Vincent explained, “She told me that she wrote about what had happened to her in a journal. But that she had lost it… Somehow it ended up in the box of books that you returned to me. I want you to take it with you.”

Jake still didn’t understand. “Why? What do you want me to do with it?”

“I want you to read it, Jacob,” Vincent answered. “You said you wanted the truth. You said you wanted to understand. If you read her journal, I believe it will help you to understand some things.”

Jake was clearly angry. “Dad, she has been lying for 25 years. Why should I believe anything she has to say?”

Vincent answered, “Jacob, this is her private journal. Her most personal thoughts. Her deepest heartaches. She never meant for anyone else to read this. It’s her truth. I’m asking you, as your father, to please read it.”

Jake’s face was set. Vincent could see the pain and anger in Jake’s eyes. He could feel his pain. Jake finally spoke. “So you are choosing her?”

“I love you both, Jacob. I want you both in my life. She needs me. I can’t choose between you.” Vincent tried to make him understand.

Jake nodded. His voice was tinged with bitterness as he said, “You just did, Dad. You just did.”

As Jake turned to leave, Vincent reached out for his arm and said, “Please take the journal, Jacob. I’m asking you to at least read it.”

Jake picked up the book and left the chamber. As he left the tunnels it was warm outside, but Jake’s chest felt like a block of ice. He didn’t look back as he left the tunnels and walked the lonely path back to his apartment.

Council

Vincent entered Father’s chamber and could see the members of the “Council” already seated around the table. Peter Alcott had also joined them. Vincent knew that the council was meeting in regards to Catherine, and her presence in the tunnels. He could hear them discussing the situation as he approached the room. The conversation ended abruptly as soon as they realized that Vincent had arrived.

Sitting down at the table, Vincent said, “Please continue. Everyone has the right to be heard here.”

After an awkward silence, William spoke up. “We had the right to be heard before you brought her here, Vincent.”

Vincent nodded. “Yes, William, you did. But it was an emergency. Catherine was in immediate need, possibly even in danger. There wasn’t time. And besides … this is Catherine. You all know her. It’s not like I brought a stranger here.”

Cullen spoke next. “That’s just it, Vincent. She is a stranger. We don’t know her. Not anymore. She has been gone for 25 years. You say she was in danger. For all we know you have brought that danger down here and exposed all of us to it.”

Mary spoke next. “She is very ill, Cullen. She needs our help. Isn’t that what we do here? Help people who need us? Besides, she always showed us love and kindness when she was here before.”

“That was a long time ago, Mary,” Jaimie interjected. “Catherine turned her back on us and walked away years ago. For heaven sake, she deserted her own child and Vincent too. She deserted all of us. Why should we help her now?”

Vincent was trying to remain calm. “You don’t know what she did!” Looking around at everyone seated at the table he said, “None of you know what happened to her.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “She didn’t turn her back on us. She left … because it was the only way she knew how to protect us. Even now … if she had been strong enough to fight me, she wouldn’t have allowed me to bring her here. But I won’t let her be hurt anymore. I won’t let her be alone anymore, if I can help it. If you decide not to allow her to stay … then I will take her away from here and I will take care of her myself.”

Everyone at the table was silent. Then Father spoke, “Is there anything else that anyone has to say before we take a vote?”

Peter raised his hand. “I know that I am not officially a member of this council, but I would like to speak.”

William spoke gruffly, “That’s right. You aren’t a member of this council. You don’t even live here.”

Father put up his hand to silence William. “William, Peter and I are the oldest living members of this community. It is true that he doesn’t live here. He has never lived here. However, he is a member of this community, nonetheless. Peter has been a faithful friend and helper to us from the very beginning. In all those years he has never once waivered in his commitment and dedication to us. We should at least hear what he has to say.” He then turned to Peter and said, “You may proceed, Peter.”

Peter spoke. “Before you make your final decision, there are some things you should know.” He paused for a moment to weigh his words. “All those years ago, when Cathy went into hiding, I promised her that I would keep her secret. Whether I was wrong or whether I was right doesn’t really matter now. But she believed that her presence here would only bring more harm to the people that she loved. … all of you … so she chose to remain “dead” and she disappeared.” He paused for a moment. “But you should also know that she never turned her back on any of you. She left her estate to me, with strict instructions to use it for the benefit of the people of the tunnels. She wanted to be sure that this community survived so that Jacob would have a safe place to grow up and that Vincent would be well. She wanted them to always be surrounded by the people she trusted to love them … by all of you. Much of the medical care and supplies you have received over the last 25 years, were paid for by her estate. When times were too difficult for the helpers to provide adequate food and clothing for the tunnels, it was provided by her estate. Many of the children who grew up here were able to go to college because of scholarships provided by the Catherine Chandler Foundation. Catherine has dedicated her life and her fortune to helping people who couldn’t help themselves, not only here, but elsewhere. Now she needs help.”

While Peter spoke the room had become very quiet. Even Vincent was surprised by some of the things he was hearing.

“So when you vote on whether or not you are going to turn your backs on her …” Peter continued, “… don’t justify it by saying that she turned her back on you, because she never did.”

After a brief, uncomfortable silence Father asked, “Does anyone have anything to add before we vote?”

It was silent again. “All right then,” Father said. “All those in favor of allowing Catherine to stay?”

Vincent breathed a sigh of relief as he watched as one by one each hand was raised. “Thank you,” he whispered looking around the table.

Mary spoke up. “Is there anything we can do, Vincent? Does she need anything?”

“I don’t know, Mary,” he replied. “She seems upset and confused. But she hasn’t spoken since she came out of the coma. Samantha is examining her now. Maybe she will be able to tell us what Catherine needs after she’s finished.”

As if on cue Samantha entered the chamber looking for Vincent. Father motioned for her to come in. “Ah, Samantha. Do come in, come in. We were just discussing Catherine and what her needs are. Come sit down and tell us what we can do for her.”

Samantha sat down and Vincent asked, “How is she? Do you think we can help her here?”

Samantha nodded and said, “Catherine is doing very well, Vincent. Much better than I expected. ”

Sounding worried, Vincent insisted, “But Samantha, she can’t speak. She can’t even stand up on her own. She’s completely helpless.”

Samantha smiled reassuringly. “I understand you are worried. But Vincent, the fact that she has even survived is a miracle,” she said. “She has only just come out of a coma. And she has been heavily drugged. Yes, she is very weak, and very confused. She is unable to walk and unable to talk. She may even have trouble telling the difference between her dreams and reality. All of these things are normal with this type of brain injury. But with therapy and love and patience, she may be able to overcome many, if not all, of these things.”

“Do you think we can give her the help that she needs here in the tunnels?” Vincent asked.

“I don’t see any reason why not,” Samantha answered. “She needs occupational and physical therapy. That is nothing more than helping her exercise to build up her strength and teaching her how to do everyday tasks. If everyone works together, with patience, to help her relearn to brush her hair, dress herself and eventually making her feel as much a part of everyday life here as possible, she could do very well. She will tire easily at first. She needs a lot of sleep while her brain repairs itself. But if she is awake, she needs to be stimulated. She needs exercise, she needs someone to talk to her to read to her. She needs all of you to keep her from giving up.”

“We will all help you, Vincent.” Mary tried to comfort him.

Around the table everyone agreed that they would do whatever was needed to help. Then from the entrance to the room came, “Mouse will help too.”

Everyone turned to see Mouse standing at the door.

“Mouse, you’re supposed to keeping an eye on Catherine,” Samantha scolded.

Mouse rolled his eyes. “Mouse knows that. Mouse wants to hear. Mouse wants to help. Catherine’s asleep. Won’t miss, Mouse.”

“And how do you know this, Mouse?” Father asked, “How can you be sure she is asleep?”

Mouse rolled his eyes again. “Not stupid. Duh. Catherine snores.” Then realizing he might have said something wrong, his eye got very big and he said, “UH … not loud … just soft.” Then nodding he said, “But definitely asleep … definitely.”

Vincent tried to hide a smirk as he got up and offered his seat to Mouse. Patting Mouse on the shoulder, he said, “That’s all right, Mouse. I can go keep an eye on her.” Then turning to Samantha, he said, “Samantha, if you could help the council to make a plan, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for coming to help us, for coming to help Catherine.” He hugged her one more time and turned for the door.

Samantha sought Vincent out before she left. She found him sitting in Catherine’s chamber watching her sleep. They went out into the hallway.

“Father and Mary are organizing everything. You will have all the support you need,” she assured him. Then added, “But I wanted to speak with you alone before I leave.”

“What is it, Samantha?” he asked.

Biting her lip, she finally she said, “Catherine’s inability to speak. I’m not sure if it’s completely because of her brain injury. Aphasia is common with this type of brain injury. But she doesn’t exhibit typical symptoms of aphasia[56] . She understands everything I say and she can read. When she’s stronger, you may discover that she can even write. If that’s the case, it’s possible that there is a psychological component to her speech loss. It might not be totally because of the brain injury at all.”

“How can you tell she understands?” Vincent asked.

Samantha answered hesitantly, “When Jacob was here earlier… Your argument … it was … quite loud.”

“You heard that?” Vincent asked

Samantha nodded, “Yes, some of it … so did she… It was clear that she … understood everything he said. So I wrote something on a piece of paper to see if she could read it.”

“What did you write?” Vincent asked.

“I wrote ‘Everything is going to be all right’. When she read it she looked me in the eye and shook her head. So to be sure I wrote, ‘Can you raise your right hand and touch your nose?’ and she did it.” Samantha waited a moment and continued, “This is encouraging news, Vincent. It means her brain injury may not be as serious as I thought it would be.”

“Then do you believe she will recover?” Vincent asked.

“I’m sure she will recover to some degree, maybe even fully,” she said, “But each case is unique, Vincent. It’s impossible to tell. But the majority of improvement usually occurs within the first 6 months of the injury. All you can do is encourage her and help her and hope. Love can work miracles, Vincent. I have seen it before. Whatever you do, don’t give up on her.”

Vincent reached for Samantha and hugged her. “Thank you, Samantha, for coming.”

Getting Away From It All

Walking into the apartment after work, Becka was confused by the mess. She could see clothes strewn around and open suitcases on the bed through the open bedroom door.

“Jake?” she called.

“In here,” he replied from somewhere in the depths of the bedroom closet.

He emerged from the closet as she reached the bedroom door. She leaned against the door jam and observed the mess on the bed and Jakes passport on the nightstand. “What’s happening, Jake? Are you going somewhere?”

“I need to get away from here, Becks. I can’t be here anymore. I feel like I can’t breathe. I need to get far away from all of “this” for a while,” Jake said.

Becka could tell he was close to tears. He looked like a lost, heartbroken little boy standing there. She felt a sense of panic rising within her. “Do you need to get away from me, Jake?”

Shaking his head, Jake said, “No, not you, Becks, never you. You are the only thing that has been keeping me sane through all of this. But I can’t make you choose between me and your parents. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Becka could see in his eyes that he was pleading for her to choose him. But she knew he would never ask. She didn’t hesitate for one second. Walking up to him she wrapped her arms around him. He dropped his head so that their foreheads touched. She looked directly into his eyes and sternly said, “You listen up, Jake Vincent. You are NOT going anywhere without me.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in her hair. How sweet she smelled. How good she felt. How much he loved her.

She reached up and running her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, she began softly singing … “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away. …”

The next morning they were sitting together on the plane watching the New York City skyline getting smaller and smaller. They hadn’t been in the air more than thirty minutes when Becka got up and went to the lavatory. Jake was getting a little worried when she didn’t return for twenty minutes. When Becka finally returned to her seat, Jake could see that her face was very pale. She sat down without saying a word. Jake watched as she settled into her seat, laid her head back and closed her eyes. She took a deep cleansing breath.

Mildly concerned, Jake asked, “You look a little green around the gills, Becks. Are you airsick?”

Without opening her eyes she took another deep breath. “No,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then what is it?” he pressed.

Becka opened her eyes and looked at him. Something about the look on her face alarmed him.

“You’re scaring me, Becka. What’s wrong?” he asked. The fear was clear in his voice.

She slowly answered “There’s something I was going to tell you last night … but you were so upset and …”

“Tell me now, Becks,” Jake interrupted.

Becka leaned close to him and whispered in his ear. Jake’s eyes opened wide. The shock on his face was evident as the Flight Attendant leaned in and cheerfully asked, “Sir? Would you prefer the Cheese Omelet or the Sausage and Fried Potatoes?” …

One Memorable Day

In the days that followed the council’s vote, Mary took charge of Catherine’s care. The tunnel community rallied around her. Many were eager to take a turn helping Catherine in any way that they could. Especially those who had known her before. During the day Mary was like a drill sergeant. She had strict instructions for Catherine’s exercise, for Catherine’s meals and for Catherine’s leisure time. Mary made sure that Catherine got enough rest and regulated how many visitors would be permitted.

During the day Vincent would keep his distance from Catherine’s chamber. She seemed frightened and confused whenever he tried to reach out to her. But at night, as soon as Catherine went to sleep, Vincent would come to her chamber so Mary could get some sleep and he would watch over her and doze in a large overstuffed loveseat near her bed until morning.

He was determined to surround her with his love, to make her feel safe and to do whatever he could to help her get well. Even if that meant that she might eventually leave again. One night, as he sat by her bedside quietly reading one of his old journals, he came across something he had written in another lifetime when she had also come here to be healed.

He read: Our world sleeps, and she is near. Strange and wonderful and sad, this feeling rising in me like a tide. To have all I ever dreamed of so close and yet to know that …All I know is that she is here and that I must live for her, surround her easily, guide her out of suffering. While she is here I must live moment by moment for her.[57]

He realized those very same words could have been written today. He fell asleep dreaming of the sweetness and the pain of those long ago days.

****

Catherine looked around slowly. She kept having the same dream. She was in the tunnels. It didn’t surprise her or frighten her. After all she had been here many times over the years in her dreams. She was in a familiar chamber. She had stayed here years ago. After her father had died, she had come here to grieve and to heal. The bed was as decadently soft as she remembered. It felt like a cloud embracing her like a warm cocoon. Many of her old tunnel family came and went from her dream. Pascal, William, Jaimie and others. They were all older than she remembered. Father, with his kind eyes, looked very, very old. Mary looked the same except her hair had turned snow white. The children were all grown up, except for one: Geoffrey, sweet Geoffrey was there. He was still 10 years old. He had not changed. Each morning he came and brought her hot water for tea, just as he had all those years ago. Everyone spoke to her and smiled. They would help her out of the bed and help her walk around the room. She didn’t know why she couldn’t do it on her own. They would brush her hair and help her dress. Mary was there the most. She fussed over her like a mother hen. It made Catherine smile. It was sweet to dream of her old friends. In one dream Mouse had come and snuck in his raccoon, Arthur. That is until Mary discovered him and shooed both of them out of the chamber. But not before giving Mouse a piece of her mind.

Sometimes in her dream the candles were dim and she would see only one person in the room, Vincent. It was always the same; He would be sitting near her bed in a large overstuffed chair, sleeping with a book in his hand. She always hoped he would stay asleep. She knew that as long as he didn’t discover her, didn’t touch her she could stay and watch him. After all these years she never tired of watching him. But how she longed to know what book he was holding in his hand. How she longed to hear his beautiful voice read to her as he had so long ago. She moved to the edge of the bed. She thought that perhaps if she could coax the book from his hands without waking him she could at least discover what he was reading. She reached for the volume, careful not to touch him. She had the book just within her grasp when his hand relaxed and it slipped from her reach and fell to the floor.

****

Vincent had dozed off while he was reading. A sudden noise startled him. He opened his eyes suddenly and was surprised to see her very close. She appeared to be reaching for him. He reached for her hand and she quickly pulled it away. On her face was an expression of fear that cut him deeply. “Catherine?” He whispered in a pleading tone. And then he remembered something Samantha had said, “… She may even have trouble telling the difference between her dreams and reality.” The night they had met in the cemetery, Catherine had said, “If you touch me, Vincent … I’ll wake up … and you’ll be gone.”

Perhaps she thinks she is dreaming now, he thought.

He leaned back in the chair and quietly asked, “Catherine? Do you think this is a dream? Is that why you’re afraid to let me touch you?”

She looked at him warily and bit her lip.

Vincent decided not to push her. Then he asked, “If this is a dream, Catherine, would you like me to read to you until you wake up?”

She cautiously nodded.

He reached for a volume on the night stand. “Is ‘Great Expectations’ all right with you?” he asked

She didn’t respond except for a sparkle he thought he saw in her eyes.

Opening the volume he began. “My father’s family name being Pirrup, and my christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip….”

As he read, she could feel herself slowly begin to breathe. Listening to the words, his beautiful, soothing voice poured over her like a cool gentle rain on a hot summer day. She could feel it filling the deep aching emptiness that had been her constant companion for so many years. Although she was exhausted, she resisted the urge to close her eyes. If this was a dream she didn’t want to wake up. How she wished she could just keep dreaming this wonderful dream … forever.

As Vincent read, he began to feel a slow warmth that began in his chest and slowly radiated to the rest of his body. He felt as if a part of him that had long slumbered was waking from a long, deep sleep. He was afraid that if he stopped reading this feeling would disappear like vapor and he would lose her again.

Catherine was not sure how much time had passed, but finally her body began to succumb to exhaustion. As she drifted off to sleep she could hear him reading …

“…That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the first link on one memorable day.”

And as Vincent drifted off to sleep he thought he heard her say, “Yes… one memorable day.”

Waking From the Dream

As time passed Catherine slowly began to get stronger. In the beginning, with help, she could walk only a few steps before needing to rest. Gradually she could walk around the bed and then she was walking around the room.

In the evening Vincent would come and watch over her and read to her. Ever so gradually Vincent began to feel the connection between himself and Catherine growing stronger. Imperceptibly at first. But he slowly realized that he could feel it when she was happy or frustrated. His hope soared when he began to feel when she wanted him to come and read to her. How he ached to hold her in his arms. But he knew he had to be patient. He didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize their fragile new bond.

One morning shorty after Catherine woke up, a stranger came into the room carrying a pot of hot water. He smiled and said, “Vincent wanted me to ask if you needed anything. Do you need anything?”

Catherine shook her head. He looked so familiar … and yet she couldn’t quite place him.

He smiled back and said, “You don’t recognize me do you? That’s okay, I was only 10 years old the last time you saw me. I’m Geoffrey.”

Catherine couldn’t hide the look of surprise on her face.

Just then the 10 year old version of Geoffrey came running into the room. “Da..ad! Why are you doing my chores? I wanted to bring Catherine her hot water. That’s my job,” he exclaimed as he wrestled the pot of water from “old” Geoffrey’s hands.

“Old Geoffrey” laughed and tousled the boy’s hair. “I see you’ve met my son, Geoffrey,” he said to Catherine. “It seems he has taken a liking to you.”

He then said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to see you sooner. I had a temporary job up top and the pay was really good. Well, I will let you rest, Catherine. I’m really glad you’re back. I hope you get well soon.”

And then old Geoffrey and young Geoffrey turned and left the chamber together hand in hand.

Catherine sat there in stunned silence. She felt as if she had just been shaken out of a sound sleep. She was dizzy and disoriented. She looked around her and wasn’t sure any more if this actually was a dream. She began looking at everything and touching her surroundings. Everything seemed too real … more real than any dream.

How is it that I can’t tell the difference between what is real and what is a dream? she asked herself. If this is real, then how did I get here? What happened to me? Why can’t I speak?

She got out of bed and approached the entry to the chamber. She hadn’t ventured passed the door since her arrival … she wasn’t sure how long it had been.

If this is real, if I am truly in the tunnels, then there is one place I can to go to know for sure. She slipped into the outer passage and quietly made her way to the one place she had longed to go for years. It was the one place where she always found peace.

****

Mary was flustered. She had woken up late and everything had gone wrong this morning. One after the other the children had needed her for some emergency or another. By the time she arrived at Catherine’s chamber it was more than an hour passed her usual time.

Entering the chamber she said, “Vincent, Catherine, I am so sorry for being so late. Not one blessed thing has gone …” As she looked around the room, Mary suddenly realized that she was talking to herself. “Catherine? Vincent?” She thought for a moment and turned and headed for Vincent’s chamber.

Vincent was sitting quietly in his own chamber writing in his journal when he heard Mary calling him. He was nearly to the entrance when she came bustling in.

She nearly ran into him before she stopped. Looking up she said, “OH, Oh, you startled me, Vincent. I’m just looking for Catherine. Is she here with you?”

“No, Mary. Isn’t she in her chamber? She was sleeping when I left her there an hour ago,” Vincent replied sounding a little concerned.

“Oh dear,” she said. “I’m not sure where to look for her. She can’t have gone far, Vincent. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

Vincent took Mary by the arm and said, “I’m sure you are right, Mary, she is probably nearby. Come with me.” He steered her to Father’s chamber trying to hide his own concerns. It wouldn’t do to have Mary any more worried than she already was.

Entering Father’s chamber, they both looked around, hoping to find her there having a visit with Father. Father looked up from the book he was reading to find them peering at him. Looking over the top of his glasses he asked, “Yes? What can I do for you two? You look as if you have lost something.”

Mary spoke up. “Yes, Father. I guess in a way, we have,” she said wringing her hands.

“Father,” Vincent said calmly, “we are looking for Catherine. Has she passed this way by chance?”

Father carefully put his book down and removed his glasses. “Are you telling me that you two have misplaced Catherine?” he asked incredulously. “How in Heaven’s name have you managed to do that?”

Mary sounded near tears when she said, “Ohhhhh, ooohhhhhh, I’m sorry, Father. I woke up late and the children needed me and nothing has seemed to go right at all this morning.”

Vincent put a protective arm around Mary’s shoulder. “Mary, it’s all right.” He spoke softly. “Catherine can’t have gone far. We know she tires easily, so all we have to do is put word out on the pipes for everyone to keep an eye out for her and she will be back where she belongs in no time. There is no reason to worry.”

Father was not convinced. “It isn’t that simple, Vincent! How can you be so cavalier about this? Catherine can’t just be left to wander alone! There are a lot of dangerous passages down here! She could get lost or or or … worse! She is in a very delicate state. How can you even think …”

“FATHER!!!” Vincent’s booming voice stopped Father’s blustering instantly. Lowering his voice he turned to Mary and said, “Mary, I want you to go into Catherine’s chamber and sit down and have yourself a cup of tea. Wait there in case she returns. You have been working much too hard and you need to let me take care of this. And stop worrying.”

Mary nodded obediently through her tears and quietly left the room. When she was out of earshot Vincent turned to Father.

“Father, how could you do that?” Vincent asked. “Can’t you see how upset Mary is already? She can’t be everywhere at once. Going on like that only made her feel worse. It isn’t her fault. If Catherine is well enough to go wandering off, then it’s a testament to how well she is doing under Mary’s care.”

“But, Vincent, she could be hurt or lost,” Father protested.

“I doubt if she is lost, Father,” Vincent replied. “You seem to forget that Catherine has spent the last 25 years wandering these tunnels in her dreams. It’s possible that she knows them even better than most of us who live here. But if she is lost, losing our heads is not going to help the situation. Now I am going to go look for her and I don’t want you to speak to Mary unless you can be civil, calm and reassuring.”

After Vincent left Father’s chamber, Father huffed and puffed for a little while. He did not enjoy being scolded by his son. But after thinking about it for a while, he came to the conclusion that Vincent was right and he had been wrong. That realization alone was a difficult pill to swallow. But swallow it he did, along with his pride as he sought Mary out to ask her forgiveness and to keep her company while they waited for word from Vincent.

Vincent headed for the pipe chamber to ask Pascal to put the word out on the pipes that Catherine had gone for a walk in the tunnels and for anyone who sees her to send word on the pipes. Having everyone in a panic was the last thing Vincent wanted.

From the pipe chamber, Vincent found a quiet spot to try and feel the fragile connection he had with Catherine. If she was in any distress, he felt sure he would know.

Catherine was confident that she knew the way. The tunnels were old friends to her. They had been her constant refuge over the years. Her dreams had become almost as real to her as her real life. Now she wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing. Thinking she heard someone coming down the tunnel, she ducked into a nearby crevice.  She had learned over the years where all of the good hiding places were along the tunnel walls so that she was able to stay undetected in her dreams.

As she continued on her way, she eventually heard it, the sound of the waterfalls. Catherine had no idea how many times over the years she had come here in her dreams to rest from the cares of the day. As she came out of the tunnel into the huge cavern called the Chamber of the Falls, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

That’s when Vincent knew. There she is. Of course that’s where she went. I should have known, he thought as he headed for the falls.

Catherine found her favorite vantage point and made herself comfortable. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she sat down. She could feel the slight breeze that flowed through the chamber on her face and the mist from the falls on her skin. She continued to breathe deeply as if she was trying to gain sustenance from the very air.

Stepping into the chamber, Vincent spotted her in the same place he had seen her “ghost” on previous occasions. She was sitting with her back against the wall. Her eyes were closed and she looked … content. After watching her for a minute or two, he realized that she must have fallen asleep.

She must be exhausted after that walk, he thought. He decided to let her rest and made himself comfortable. He sat near her, but far enough so that he wouldn’t frighten her when she awoke.

As he sat there next to the woman that he had loved for so long, he sighed. The ache of having her so near, and yet not being able to touch her was taking its toll on him.

What can I do? he wondered. What can I do to help her find her way back to me? And then he thought, What if this is it? What if this is all there ever is? What if she never recovers any more than this? Can I accept being this close to her and never being able to touch her?

The questions weighed heavily on his heart. How he longed to hold her in his arms. How he ached to feel her heart beating next to his. The longing sometimes caused him physical pain.

And then he concluded, Catherine has spent the last 25 years protecting me, protecting us and providing for us without asking anything in return, without ever expecting anything in return. Can I do any less for her now? After all, this is more than I ever thought there would be, more than I ever thought there could be.

Turning to look at her he realized that she had woken up and was watching him. As soon as he looked at her he could see the fear in her eyes.

“Catherine,” he said, “I know you aren’t afraid of me. I know that you love me. And yet when I see the fear in your eyes … it’s like a knife in my heart.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath. When she opened her eyes again he didn’t see the fear anymore. What he saw in her eyes was … sadness, doubt and … longing? Was he really seeing longing in her eyes? Or was it just his own longing reflected back to him? She seemed to be asking him something with her eyes.

“Catherine,” he gently asked, “do you still believe this is a dream?”

She turned away briefly and then turned back. Her eyes seemed to be saying, “I don’t know.”

Then he said, “Catherine, if you are a dream … you are a beautiful dream… After all … ‘All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream’ …”

She dropped her head and smiled a little to herself. Those were the words she had spoken to him the night he found her in the cemetery.

Vincent suggested, “There is only one way to find out, Catherine, if this is real, or if it’s a dream. You must reach out to me. You must touch me. And even if it is a dream, and I disappear … your dreams will bring you back here again. We both know that, don’t we?”

She nodded. Yes, yes, I do know that, she thought.

“But if this isn’t a dream,” he continued. “If I am real, then it’s… a gift … and you can stop being afraid… to let me touch you, Catherine.”

He held out his hand to her. “No hopes, no expectations… just this moment and whatever moments there may be after that.” And then he whispered, “Accept the gift, Catherine.”

She stared at him for what felt like an eternity. But Vincent was determined not to give up on her. She nodded ever so slightly and she silently repeated his words to herself, Accept the gift, Catherine… Accept … the … gift. And finally she took a deep breath and slipped her hand into his and held it tight. They both exhaled at the same time. She leaned toward him and lay her head against his chest. Vincent was almost overcome with relief and love as he put his other arm around her and gently pulled her closer.

Mary and Father both breathed a sigh of relief when word had come on the pipes that Vincent had found Catherine at the falls.

Catherine and Vincent stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time. As Vincent held her close, Catherine drifted into a light sleep and Vincent heard her whisper, “Accept the gift … accept the gift.” When he heard her speak in her sleep his heart swelled with love and gratitude, he held her a little tighter and lightly kissed her on top of the head.

This Isn’t My Home

The day Catherine wandered to the falls marked a change in the routine that had surrounded her. She and Vincent began spending more and more time together. They would go for long walks, visiting the places Catherine had once loved. They would watch the sunrise and star gaze at the mirror pool. Vincent would read to her at the waterfall. It was a time filled with sweetness and healing for them both. Sometimes resting in Vincent’s arms while he was reading, Catherine would become lost in the sound of his voice and it felt as if they had never been apart.

As Catherine and Vincent spent more time together, the burden on Mary became less and less. Catherine steadily recovered and became more independent and able to care for herself. She became more involved in life in the community, sitting in on classes that Vincent taught and playing games with the children. She even found herself helping William in the kitchen. To an outsider they might think she had completely recovered, until it became obvious that she still could not speak. Her only form of communication was with paper and a pen.

One morning as she was just waking up, young Geoffrey arrived with the hot water for her morning tea.

“Good morning, Catherine,” he said smiling. After he poured the water for her, he reached into his sweater and pulled out a lovely orange and white candle. Handing it to her he said, “This is for you, Catherine. Do you know what it’s for?”

Catherine looked very surprised and very pleased. She closed her eyes as she savored the sweetness of the memory the candle invoked. She reached for her pad of paper pen that she kept on her night table, and wrote, “Winterfest?”

Geoffrey could hardly contain his excitement, “Yes, Winterfest. Have you ever been to Winterfest, Catherine?” he asked.

Catherine nodded and wrote, “Yes, once, a very long time ago.” Her eyes sparkled as she remembered how she had danced with Vincent.

Geoffrey overflowed with enthusiasm. “It’s so much fun. All of our old friends that live above come home. And the helpers come too. And William makes cookies and pies. I can’t wait. Jacob will come too. He hasn’t visited for a long time. Do you know Jacob? He always tells us stories of his adventures up top. Sometimes at Winterfest Jacob even lets me beat him at Chess. I know you will love it, Catherine. You are coming aren’t you?”

Catherine smiled again and kissed Geoffrey on the cheek. “Yes, thank you, Geoffrey,” she wrote before he left the room.

“You’re welcome, Catherine,” he said, blushing, as he turned to leave.

Catherine sat on the edge of the bed holding the candle in her hand and looking at it in wonder.

Winterfest? How long have I been here? she wondered. She realized that in all the time she had been here she had not marked the time. She had just focused on each day as it came and trying to get well. As she excitedly anticipated attending Winterfest, she heard Geoffrey’s voice echo in her mind, “All of our old friends that live above come home.”

Then she recalled Jacob’s voice saying, “… this isn’t her home! She doesn’t belong here! …” and she felt a shadow appear and slowly spread across her heart. She recalled the first day she had woken up here. She had thought it was a dream. Now she was sure that it wasn’t. Vincent and Jake had argued about her.

Jake’s words came back, ringing in her mind, “Dad, this isn’t her home! She doesn’t belong here! …” he had said. “You know how I feel about her! If she is here in the tunnels … I can’t be!"

Catherine had not discerned Vincent’s words, but she had heard the desperation and pleading in his voice.

And then Jake’s angry reply, “SHE IS NOT MY MOTHER! She has never … been … my mother! I don’t know her! I don’t want to know her! She walked away and left us behind! If you choose HER … If she stays here … I don’t see how I can be in your life!”

Catherine had watched Vincent in recent weeks when he thought she was sleeping. She had wondered what the look of sadness on his face was. Now she understood.

How could I have been so thoughtless? How could I have been so stupid? she asked herself. How could I have been so blind? And she realized her time in the tunnels was coming to a close.

****

Vincent was in the middle of teaching a literature class with some of the older children when he felt it; a shadow that spread across his heart, like a storm cloud that blows across the summer sky obscuring the sun. His heart felt cold when it had been beautifully warm only a moment before. As soon as the class ended, Vincent sought Catherine out.

Vincent walked into Catherine’s chamber to find her packing her duffle bag. He stood in the entryway watching her in silence. She wasn’t aware of his presence until she turned.

As she turned around she saw the sadness in his eyes and on his face. He didn’t need to speak for her to know what he was thinking.

“I have stayed here too long. I’m recovered. It’s time for me to go back above,” she wrote.

Vincent shook his head. “Catherine, how can you say that? You aren’t completely recovered. You still can’t speak. You should stay here.”

“I may never be able to speak,” she wrote, “I can’t stay here forever. We both know that I don’t belong here.”

“Why do you say that, Catherine? Has someone made you feel unwelcome?” he asked.

“No. Everyone here is wonderful. But Jake was right when he said that I don’t belong here and that this isn’t my home. This isn’t my home. It’s his home. He belongs here,” she wrote.

Vincent nodded, now he understood. “I didn’t know if you remembered that. You were very ill that day… You heard our argument?”

Catherine nodded.

“But why are you leaving now? Yesterday everything was fine,” Vincent asked. “What is different today, Catherine?”

Catherine walked over to her nightstand and picked up the Winterfest candle. She sat on the edge of the bed and held it gently in her hands. Vincent came and sat next to her. She handed it to him and wrote, “Has Jake ever missed a Winterfest?”

He couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes and in his voice as he whispered, “No, never.”

“If I’m here, he won’t come. You know that,” she wrote.

Vincent agreed. “Jacob is very hurt, and very angry, Catherine. I don’t know if he will come, even if you leave,” he said,

Catherine nodded and wrote, “But I can’t be the reason he stays away. Do you understand?”

Vincent nodded. “Yes, I do understand,” he said sadly.

She nodded and smiled wistfully as she wrote, “I’ve dreamed of Winterfest and dancing with you to the music in the wind.”

As Vincent read it he smiled too. “Yes, I know.”

Catherine looked at him askance. It was a look that seemed to ask, “How could you know that?”

Vincent realized he had revealed something, he had not told her before. He decided that she should know.

“One year,” Vincent began, “14 or 15 years ago, Pascal, Mouse, Jacob and I went down to the Great Hall to begin the preparations for Winterfest. We discovered you there.”

Catherine was listening with interest, so Vincent continued with a faraway look in his eyes, “There was one candle burning in the room. It cast a shadow on the wall that looked like someone dancing. And then we looked down to the bottom of the stairs and there you were… you were wearing a long white gown.

“I couldn’t believe my eyes. I quietly descended the stairs and stood in the middle of the room and watched you. Your eyes were closed and you looked so serenely beautiful and happy as you spun and swayed around the room. You took my breath away. And then you opened your eyes. You had that same look of fear in your eyes that I have seen in your eyes here. I couldn’t help myself … I reached to touch your face … and then you …” His voice trailed off.

Catherine touched his arm to bring him back from his reverie and wrote, “And then I woke up.”

Vincent nodded and whispered, “Yes, and then you woke up.”

Catherine was very still as she absorbed the revelation. She wrote, “I thought that it was a dream.”

“Yes, Catherine… Back then we thought you were a ghost. But I believe now that you were … dreaming,” he said.

“Were there other times? When you saw me?” she wrote.

Vincent nodded, “Yes, Catherine … many times.”

She wrote, “When you told me that my ‘spirit had walked these tunnels for years’ that is what you meant?”

He nodded, “Yes, Catherine.” As soon as he said it he felt the connection between them vanish, as if she were shutting him out again. He looked at her closely and asked, “Catherine, are you all right?”

She nodded her head and wrote, “I tried to control my emotions, but when I slept, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t mean to cause you any more pain. I’m sorry. I thought they were only dreams.”

“No, Catherine, it didn’t cause me pain,” he insisted. “I found it … comforting…  It made me feel as if … you weren’t completely lost to me… as if … death … had no dominion,” he explained.

Catherine reached for his hand and he drew her close. She didn’t resist. And there it was again, their connection. The momentary loss had frightened him, but he chose not to speak of it. He didn’t want to upset her any further.

“I will send word to Peter that you will be returning above. He will need to send down some warm clothes and a coat for you. When will you leave?” he asked.

She sighed heavily, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t want to relinquish the comfort of his arms to find her pen.

My Dear Boy

The next morning Vincent awoke to find Father standing above him. He was startled and jumped up quickly.

“I’m sorry, Father. Have I overslept?” Vincent asked apologetically. “I will get to my class right away.”

Father reached out and placed his hand on Vincent’s shoulder and said, “My dear boy, it’s Saturday. You most certainly have not overslept, nor are you late for your class.”

Still a little bleary eyed, Vincent looked up at Father and could see that he was smiling. Vincent chuckled a little and said, “For a moment there, Father, I felt like I was 16 again. I find it amusing that I am 60 years old and you still refer to me as ‘my dear boy’?”

Father laughed too. “16 or 60, Vincent, it makes no difference. You will always be ‘my dear boy’. You see at my age it’s all about perspective. Compared to me, Vincent, you are a boy.”

Vincent smiled and asked, “Then may I ask, Father, what brings you here at such an hour? What can I do for you?”

“I received this from above this morning,” Father said, handing an envelope to Vincent.

Vincent opened it and began to read. His expression became serious.

“What is it, Vincent?” Father asked.

“It’s from Diana Bennett. She would like to come and speak with Catherine about the investigation,” Vincent said.

“Diana Bennett,” Father was a bit surprised to hear the name. “she hasn’t been here in many years. How did she know that Catherine was here?”

“I’m not sure. The investigation surrounding Catherine was reopened when she returned. Perhaps Joe told her that she was in hiding and she assumed the rest,” Vincent replied.

Father was a bit agitated. “Are you telling me that Joe Maxwell knows that Catherine is here as well?” he asked.

“Father, Joe is Jacob’s father-in-law. He is Catherine’s lawyer and her friend. Joe and Jenny were instrumental in helping me to see Catherine in the hospital. They can be trusted,” Vincent explained. “But to answer your question, no, they do not know where Catherine is. However they do know that she is with me and that she is safe. Peter is keeping them apprised of Catherine’s recovery from the weekly updates I have been sending him. In return they have said they will let me know if they hear anything from Jacob and Rebecka.”

“Have they?” Father asked in earnest. “Have they heard from young Jacob and Rebecka?”

Vincent shook his head and looked to the ceiling as if he was sending his heartaches heavenward. “No, Father, they haven’t heard from them either. It has been nearly 4 months.”

“Do you believe they are alright, Vincent?” Father asked. “Is there anything we can do?”

Vincent shook his head. “No, Father, there is nothing we can do,” he answered. “Jacob needs to work this out on his own. If he were in any real trouble, I feel sure that I would know.”

Father paced an affectionate hand on Vincent’s shoulder and squeezed. “And what about Diana? Does Catherine know about her?”

Again, Vincent shook his head. “No, Father, I don’t see how she would.”

“You seem hesitant about this interview, Vincent. You haven’t told her about Diana. Can you tell me why?” Father asked.

Vincent breathed deeply before speaking. “Oh, Father. I don’t know why. Several reasons, I suppose. Father, the connection I have with Catherine right now … it feels so … fragile. It’s very painful for her to be reminded of those events. It’s painful for me as well. But for her … Father … for her it’s as if she puts a wall up to shield herself and me from the pain that those memories invoke. And when she does that, our connection … is broken … I can see how much pain she is in … but I have no sense of her at all. … She becomes lost and alone in that sea of pain and I can’t reach her. It frightens me, Father. I witnessed it … the night before her aneurysm ruptured, but I couldn’t help her. I believe it nearly killed her, Father.”

Father asked, “And you’re afraid that if Diana comes here to speak with her about the investigation that …?”

Vincent finished the thought, “… that it might happen again. That it might carry Catherine away and I will lose her for good.”

“The surgeon assured Peter that the aneurysms have been repaired. I don’t think it will happen again. The stress she was under could have contributed, Vincent. But I don’t think you need to worry about any ruptures,” Father explained.

Vincent nodded. “Well then, I suppose I should let Catherine be the one to decide if she is ready to speak with Diana.”

Father squeezed Vincent’s shoulder again. Vincent reached up to grasp Father’s reassuring hand.

Music In The Wind

Vincent dressed and headed for Catherine’s chamber. He could still feel the shadow on his heart that had been hovering there since the day before. He stood in the entrance watching her. He didn’t want to let her leave. He wanted to keep her close so he could be sure she was safe. But he knew that wasn’t possible.

“Have you had breakfast yet, Catherine?” Vincent asked.

She turned and smiled at Vincent and he felt the shadow lift a little. She walked directly into his arms. She fit so perfectly there. It was as if his arms were custom made to be wrapped around just her. He had only ever felt truly whole when she was there in his arms. He heard his own voice echoing in his head, “No hopes, no expectations… just this moment and whatever moments there may be after that …Accept the gift.”

As they walked into the dining hall, William greeted them. “Good morning you two. You missed the Saturday morning rush. We had waffles, scrambled eggs and sausage.”

Vincent looked apologetically at Catherine and then back to William. “What have you got left, William? We won’t be picky. Can you manage some toast and tea?”

William looked like he was considering what to feed the late comers. “Hmm” was all he said as he turned into the kitchen and quickly returned with two piping hot plates of waffles with scrambled eggs and sausage. “It’s your lucky day, Vincent. I had set aside a plate for Catherine, but yours was nearly lost when Mouse came looking for thirds and scraps for that raccoon. I rescued it in the nick of time.”

As he put the plates down on the table, Catherine stood up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He turned bright red and blustered back to the kitchen.

Vincent laughed.

As they finished their breakfast Vincent said, “If you will only be here a few more days Catherine, is there something you would like to do?”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “There is one thing, but I don’t know if it’s possible,” she wrote.

“What is it?” he asked.

She hesitated and then she wrote, “I would like to dance with you to the music in the wind.”

As he read what she had written, Catherine could see a light come into his eyes and a slow smile appeared across his face. He stood up and went over to William and whispered something in his ear.

William’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning and he began bustling about the kitchen. Vincent returned to Catherine and offered her his arm.

“It’s been arranged, Catherine. Would you like to go now?” Vincent asked.

Smiling broadly, Catherine took his arm and they were on their way. They were both quiet as they made their way deep into the tunnels to the Great Hall. As they entered the Great Hall at the top of the stairs, the room was pitch black. Vincent placed the torch he was carrying into a sconce at the top of the stairs, “Can I lead you through the darkness, Catherine?” he asked.

Catherine held tight to his hand and thought to herself, There is no darkness, when you’re with me, Vincent.[58]

As if he had read her mind, he embraced her and buried his face in her hair. Then he turned and led her down the stairs. He left her standing in the center of the room while he lit several large candles.

Approaching Catherine, Vincent bowed deeply and held out his hand to her. Catherine was actually nervous as she watched him come toward her and invite her to dance. She curtseyed formally in return and took his hand. As they began to dance around the room they couldn’t take their eyes off of each other and they became oblivious to anything else around them.

Vincent and Catherine had not realized that most of the tunnel children had sensed there was adventure in the air and had followed them at a distance to the Great Hall. Entering the hall as quietly as they could they lined the stairs to watch. They were not prepared for what they witnessed. The room was completely silent, except for the sound of the wind that whistled through the caverns and rattled the doors. The love that Vincent and Catherine had for each other was like an electric charge in the air. The children were mesmerized not only by the sight of Vincent and Catherine, lost in each other as they floated around the dance floor, but also by the shadows that seemed to have taken on a life of their own as they danced all over the walls of the room. It was as if they were watching something magical that could only exist in a dream or in one of Father’s stories.

Vincent and Catherine had no idea how long they had danced. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. But the spell was broken when the wind momentarily ceased and one of the children sneezed at the same time. In the silence all of the children turned accusingly toward the culprit who had broken the spell. When they looked back they realized they had been discovered.

“Children,” Vincent tried to sound as stern as possible, “All of you come down here at once!”

Vincent looked at Catherine apologetically and realized she was trying to suppress a smile. But her twinkling eyes betrayed her. She buried her face in his chest to hide her amusement from the children.

As Vincent pretended to console Catherine he scolded the children in his best imitation of Father. “Children, what you have done here is very serious. You know how important privacy is in our community and that spying on others is completely unacceptable. Now what have you to say for yourselves?”

The children hung their heads in shame. Young Geoffrey stepped forward. “We’re sorry, Vincent. I’m sorry, Catherine … it’s all my fault … I’m the one who brought them here.”

Geoffrey’s apology was echoed by all of the children. And they stood there waiting for Vincent to decide what their punishment would be.

“Catherine, these children need to be punished for what they have done,” Vincent continued in a serious tone. “What do you think their punishment should be?”

Catherine felt that she had composed herself enough to maintain a serious face, but Vincent could still see the twinkling in her eyes. She looked over all of the children as if she was trying to decide what to do with them. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her small notepad and pen and began to write. She then handed it to Vincent.

As Vincent read her note, he began to nod. “Hmmm … yes, yes, Catherine, I believe that this punishment definitely fits the crime.”

Then turning to the children he said, “Catherine and I have decided that since you are all so interested in ballroom dancing, you are hereby sentenced to join with us in the dancing until we are satisfied that you know how to do it properly.”

Catherine could no longer contain her amusement. For a moment the children looked confused. Why is Catherine smiling? they wondered. And then the girls began to laugh, and rushed forward to put their arms around her. At the same time Vincent observed that the boys were standing stock still with a look of horror on all of their faces.

Gathering the children around him Vincent explained, “A long time ago, in this very hall, Catherine taught me that there is music in the wind if only you know how to listen.[59] I want all of you to close your eyes and listen very carefully. When you think you can hear the music and the rhythm in the wind, I want you to find a partner and go stand on the dance floor. Slowly, two by two the children obeyed. Soon Vincent, Catherine and the children were all dancing about the room. The walls were filled with dancing shadows. Presently Catherine observed one of the boys accidently step on his partner’s toes, for which he was promptly punished with a swift kick in the shins. Catherine could not contain her laughter.

When Vincent heard her laughing his heart skipped a beat. It was the first time in four months that he had heard Catherine make any sound at all except for a couple of times when she had spoken in her sleep. She laughed as the children danced and then she looked at him with a look of pure joy and then buried her face in his chest. When she did that, he could feel her laughter vibrating through him. It had been a lifetime since he had felt anything like it.

After what seemed like an appropriate amount of time Vincent gathered the children around him again. Once again he attempted his best impersonation of Father. “It is getting close to lunch time and Mary and William will be wondering what has become of all of you. I hope that you have all learned a valuable lesson here this morning. Now all of you go back to the living quarters. And just to show that you have all been forgiven, we will not speak of this unfortunate incident again. Is that understood?

The children all agreed and tumbled up the stairs and out the door laughing and chattering the whole way.

Vincent turned to Catherine and said, “I’m sorry, Catherine. I don’t think that was quite what you had in mind.”

Smiling, Catherine wrote, “It was perfect.”

“Well then, are you hungry?” Vincent asked.

Made to Love You

After leaving the Great Hall, Vincent and Catherine headed to the Chamber of the Falls, where William had left them a picnic lunch. After refreshing themselves with the wonderful repast that William had prepared for them, they rested in each other’s arms and listened to the sound of the falls.

It had been such a wonderful morning that Vincent was reluctant to let it end. But he knew he could not put it off any longer. He took a deep breath and asked, “Catherine, do you know who Diana Bennett is?”

Catherine thought for a moment and shook her head.

“Back in 1989 Diana was the detective that was working with Joe Maxwell to solve your murder. It was Diana who shot and killed Gabriel,” Vincent said.

Catherine breathed in sharply at the mention of Gabriel’s name. She didn’t like to think about that time in her life. She closed her eyes and in her mind’s eye she could see … a woman coming out of a hole in the wall … a gunshot from somewhere … She picked up her pen and wrote … “Long red hair?”

“Yes” Vincent nodded. “yes that was her.”

Catherine pulled out her notepad and wrote, “??”

Vincent explained, “I have received word from Diana that she would like to come and speak with you regarding the investigation. Would that be all right with you?”

Catherine was confused. She began to write, “Here? In the tunnels? How does she know I’m …?” Then she remembered something else … about the woman. Then she wrote, “That day, she whispered your name. You knew her?”

“Yes,” he spoke softly, cautiously. “I knew her.”

Catherine was confused. She wrote, “But I didn’t know her? How?”

Vincent was hesitant to tell her. He knew that speaking of those days caused her great pain. Remembering that time in his life was painful for Vincent as well.

Vincent’s hesitation made Catherine wonder if there were things that he didn’t want her to know. Things he was afraid might hurt her.

“Can you tell me?” she wrote.

Vincent looked at her. She could see the pain in his eyes.

He began, “She was investigating your death ... your murder.” He stood and began pacing a little. “She found evidence of me … inscriptions in your books … the poetry I used to read to you. Somehow she knew where to find me. She waited … in the cemetery until …” He paused. Remembering the pain, he turned away from her.

“Are you all right?” she wrote. “You don’t have to tell me, if it causes you pain.” His back was turned to her so she approached him and put her hand on his shoulder. When he turned, she showed him what she had written.

He took her hand in his and as they walked back to the stone bench and sat down.

“I need to tell you, Catherine,” he explained. “You should know.” He paused for a moment and then said, “The night that Elliot died … the night that Gabriel killed him. Elliot nearly betrayed me, Catherine. And then … at the last moment … he changed his mind. He sacrificed his life to save mine. After the explosion … I was badly injured … I could only think of you … if I was going to die … I wanted to be with you, to be … near you. So I managed to make my way to the cemetery. I collapsed next to your headstone.”

Vincent was thoughtful for a moment and then continued, “The next thing I remember is waking up three days later in Diana’s apartment. She had cleaned and bandaged my wounds. She had watched over me and kept me safe. I don’t know what would have happened to me if she hadn’t … and then …”

He recalled with horror what had happened when Gabriel had him. “She led me to Jacob and then she shot … she killed Gabriel. She saved us.”

Catherine could see his pain as he recalled the horror that Gabriel had been. She could see something else too.

“She loved you,” she wrote. It was a statement, not a question. Something in her knew.

Vincent looked at Catherine in surprise. “Catherine? How do you know that?”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head a little. She wrote, “You can tell me. It’s fine.”

He could see in her eyes that she was telling the truth. He could feel that she was telling the truth.

“After you died, Catherine, I was in such pain. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. She helped me get through it all. After it was all over, Diana became a helper and a part of us here. She was a faithful friend. She was so kind to me, to Jacob, to everyone. When I finally came out of the fog of pain, I began to realize that she did love me. But I had nothing but friendship to offer her. It became a wedge between us. Eventually it destroyed our friendship.”

Catherine did not reply. Vincent couldn’t read her expression. “What are you thinking, Catherine?” he asked.

She began writing, “I would have understood.”

Vincent shook his head. She could see by the expression on his face that he wasn’t sure what she meant. So she wrote, “If you loved her.”

“Catherine,” he whispered in disbelief.

“I wanted you to have love, Vincent,” she wrote. “I wanted you to have everything.”

Vincent was speechless. Looking into her eyes he finally spoke. “I couldn’t love her, Catherine. How could I? When you still lived?”

She didn’t understand what he meant. She wrote, “But you didn’t know that. You believed I was dead.”

He clarified, “Yes, but you did still live, Catherine. You lived here,” he said, putting his hands over his heart. “You lived in my dreams. You lived in Jacob. I could see you every time I looked at him. Your spirit walked these halls. The ghost of our love lingered in every corner of these tunnels.”

Vincent sighed. “Perhaps there are people who are able to love more than once. But I realized a long time ago, Catherine, that my heart was only made … I was only made … to love … you.”

They sat quietly for a while and then he asked, “Catherine? … Did you … have anyone? … Did you have … another love?”

She smiled at him softly and shook her head. “There was only you, Vincent,” she wrote, “and my dreams of you.”

Vincent put his arm around her and pulled her close.

They walked hand in hand back to Catherine’s chamber.

“You look tired, Catherine. I hope we didn’t overdo it. Are you all right?” Vincent asked.

Catherine smiled and leaned against him as she wrote, “I am tired. But I’m fine. It’s been a beautiful day, Vincent. Thank you.”

Vincent smiled and chuckled, “I don’t think the children will soon forget that dancing lesson.”

The memory of the incident made her smile. “I think I will lie down for a while.” she wrote.

“Catherine,” Vincent asked, “what should I tell Diana? I need to send her a reply.”

Catherine’s smile faded a little. She thought for a moment and then she nodded. “Tell her she can come,” she wrote.

“I will send her a message right away. I will tell her to come this evening. That will give you time to recover from our adventure,” Vincent said.

She smiled and nodded in agreement. They embraced one more time before going their separate ways.

Even though it was early in the afternoon, Catherine fell asleep quickly. She had not realized how exhausted she was. It had been a perfect day. She could feel herself floating in Vincent’s arms as she went to sleep.

Diana

When Catherine woke up several hours later there was a rose on her nightstand and a note from Vincent that read: Dearest Catherine, I have gone to the tunnel entrance to escort Diana down. When you wake, please join us in my chambers. –Sleep well, Vincent

Catherine held the rose and drank in its fragrance. She wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. But she knew that sooner or later she would have to face her life again. It might as well be now.

Catherine entered Vincent’s chamber. The lights were on and the candles were lit, but Vincent and Diana had not yet arrived. She decided she would make herself comfortable and wait for them. In the quiet of the room, she began to look around. She could hear echoes of his voice in her memories: The first time she heard Vincent’s voice, “You’re safe. You’re safe now…No one will hurt you. You’re safe here.”[60] She could hear his encouraging words that had given her strength after she was attacked. “You have the strength, Catherine. You do. I know you.” She remembered the pain in his voice when she had doubted him, “What should I tell you? That I am not this shadow, this mad monster that you hunt. Must you hear the words before you trust?”[61]

She remembered the love and enchantment in his voice whenever he had read to her. And she remembered the last day. The day before her world went spinning out of control. The day before her life came to an end. She remembered the grief in his voice at the loss of their special bond, the love and concern in his voice as he spoke softly to her, the feeling of his arms around her that last time.

In the quiet, the room felt like a sacred place to her. And then she saw it … on the far side of the chamber. It had a dust cover over it … but Catherine felt sure she knew what it was. She walked over and gently tugged on the cloth. It fell noiselessly to the floor to reveal … Yes, she was right … it was the portrait that Kristopher Gentian had painted of them so long ago. She stood staring at it, almost hypnotized by it until she heard their voices.

Turning toward the entrance, Catherine saw Vincent and Diana come in together. They all stood looking at each other for a few awkward moments. And then Catherine came toward them and extended her hand to Diana.

Shaking Catherine’s hand, Diana said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Catherine... Vincent tells me you have made a remarkable recovery. Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Catherine wrote, “There is only one way to find out.” Catherine looked toward Vincent and smiled.

“Why don’t we all sit down?” Vincent said.

Catherine thought she recognized Diana. She was sure she had seen her before. As soon as they took their seats she wrote, “I think I know you.”

Diana shook her head, “No, I don’t think so.”

Catherine wrote, “You were at the Medical Examiner’s Office the day they opened the casket?”

Diana nodded. “Yes, I was called in to consult on one of my old … on your old case.”

“And you were at the shelter? The day that I fell? Were you looking for me?” Catherine wrote.

Diana was hesitant, but answered, “Yes, that was me. I was looking for you. I wanted to ask you some questions. I wanted to meet you. I wanted to see what kind of…” Diana stopped. She wasn’t sure how to say it tactfully.

“You wanted to see what kind of a woman could desert Vincent and her own child?” Catherine wrote.

Diana nodded. “Yes”

Catherine wrote, “They never would have been safe with me in their lives. When I thought Vincent was dead because of me, I wanted to die too. If anything had happened to them because of me ….” And then she wrote, “You were involved in the investigation. You met Gabriel. Do you believe I was wrong to believe that?”

Diana candidly said, “No, Catherine. No … you weren’t wrong. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you today.”

Catherine waited for Diana to continue.

Diana pulled a file folder out of her bag and put it on the table. She reached into it and pulled out a photograph.

As Catherine looked at it, Vincent felt her stiffen with fear and then he felt their connection disappear again. He reached for her hand. She grabbed his hand and held it tight.

There it is, he thought with relief. He silently willed her to stay connected with him. Please don’t cut me off, Catherine, he thought.

Diana asked, “Is this the book that Joe gave you in 1989? And is this the same book that you gave to Joe 4 months ago?”

Catherine nodded. “Please be careful, Diana,” she wrote. “That book has destroyed lives.”

Diana looked a little surprised by Catherine’s concern. Continuing, she said, “Joe told us that you were concerned about that, so we have kept the investigation limited to Greg, Joe and myself. Between us, we have been able to decipher most of the references in this book. We’ve compiled a list of the contractors, law firms and financial institutions that this book has led us to. Most of these companies have been shut down by the SEC or the FBI over the years. The rest of them eventually collapsed under the sheer weight of their own greed. The scope of corruption was unbelievable. These people had the financial and political power to destroy anyone they felt threatened by. I believe… actually all three of us believe that if you had resurfaced …. if any of these people had known you were alive … they would have stopped at nothing to destroy you and anyone close to you. They believed they were above the law. Virtually every whistleblower that tried to get out was killed or died under suspicious circumstances, even the ones in Witness Protection.”

Catherine closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her hands were shaking as she wrote, “What has happened to all of them? Are they still out there? Is there still any danger?” Catherine was afraid of what the answer might be, but she had to know.

Vincent had noticed that Catherine’s hand was cold. Her face had become pale and her expression difficult to read. He could feel the storm brewing inside of her. He was getting concerned.

“There was one man who managed to escape the law,” Diana explained. “He got out of his company before it collapsed and they could never prove that he was corrupt. He kept his hands clean and left his partners holding the bag. And he managed to do it while keeping his own fortune intact. He was a ruthless man. Even his own family deserted him in the end. Have you ever heard of Paul Malloy?” she asked.

Catherine wrote, “Of Malloy Davidson?’

“Yes. That’s him,” Diana answered.

Catherine and Vincent both looked at Diana and waited.

“If you had asked me a year ago if you might still be in danger, I would have said yes,” Diana said.

“And now?” Vincent asked.

“The information in this book would have been a serious threat to him,” Diana said. “He would have done everything in his power to suppress this evidence, to destroy you. But Paul Malloy died last Spring. He was surrounded by the best of everything that money could buy. But in the end, not even all that money could buy him any friends. He was over 90 years old and after all those years there was not one person who cared enough about him to show up at his funeral, not even his family. It was so remarkable, that it was in the papers. No, I don’t think there is any danger, not anymore.”

Vincent breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed Catherine’s hand. When she didn’t respond he turned to her. She was looking curiously at Diana. Almost as if she didn’t quite comprehend what she had said.

Catherine wrote, “When? When did he die?”

It was clear that Diana wasn’t expecting that question. She said, “Uhm, I’m not sure exactly. Why do you ask?” She began looking through the file and pulled out the news clipping about his death. Looking through it she said, “Here it is. He died on April 9th. Is that important?”

Catherine had a strange expression on her face. “I met Jake on April 10th,” Catherine wrote.

Vincent whispered, “Catherine” They looked at each other in disbelief.

Diana wasn’t sure what to make of it. “That’s an odd coincidence,” she said.

Just then Catherine heard a faint whisper in her heart that said, “Coincidence is the pseudonym dear God chooses when he wants to remain incognito.” But before she could write it …

Vincent softly said, “I’m not so sure, Diana. You know, Albert Schweitzer once said that ‘Coincidence is the pseudonym dear God chooses when he wants to remain incognito.’ Perhaps it was no coincidence at all.”

Catherine was so stunned to hear those words, the very words she had just heard within herself, come out of Vincent’s mouth. She gazed at him in wonder that he even knew those words.

“There is one more thing I wanted to discuss with you,” Diana said. “Something I thought you should know.” She sounded conflicted about what she was about to say.

Catherine could hear something in her voice, something that warned her to brace herself.

“One of the companies that was implicated by the book was … The Burch Development Corporation,” she said.

Both Catherine and Vincent sat up with a look of disbelief on their faces. Catherine began shaking her head. “That isn’t possible,” she wrote. “Elliott was helping me to decipher it. He gave me credible information.”

“He had to have known that he would be implicated by the book. The information would have destroyed him. Why would he do that?” Diana asked.

Catherine thought back. She thought back to the day that she had gone to Elliott for help. He had been reluctant to help her in the beginning.

“Uuuuuuhhhhh … Nah … This is the last thing that I’m gonna get involved with now.” He had said, refusing at first.

Not being ready to give up she had persisted, “Elliott, could you just …?”

“NO! Absolutely Not!” he had said emphatically.

“… just look through it ...” she pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“NO, CATHY! AND I MEAN NO!” he said, attempting to dig in his heals.

“Help me to find something to follow up on? … A NAME … A PLACE … A DOLLAR AMOUNT … ANYTHING?” she continued to plead.

“Absolutely Not.” he stubbornly insisted.

“I’M STUCK, ELLIOTT!” she was becoming desperate.

For a moment they stared each other down.

Catherine sighed and softly said, “I need some help.”

He had been powerless to resist her pleas. He finally relented and cancelled his afternoon appointments. Frustrated by his own weakness he said, “You knew I was going to say ‘yes’!

She smiled and shrugged a little in response.

Sitting down on the couch beside her he asked, “How’d you know?”

“Because I know you,” she had admitted.[62]

Yes, she had known him. She had known his weakness. She had known that he loved her. She had known that he regretted not choosing her when he had the chance, and that he regretted losing her. She had known that he would do anything to win her back. She had used his love for her to manipulate him into destroying himself. And she had done it, knowing that there was no possibility that he could ever win her love. The sudden revelation of what she had done to him mortified her.

And … there it was! She felt it return, like a flash of lightning. Catherine hadn’t felt it since that day … that last day … at the shelter. The giant reservoir of guilt and pain and emotion that she had suppressed for so many years had returned … looming … threatening to overcome her … to crush her to dust and sweep her away. She bowed her head and put her face in her hands. After a moment she began rubbing her forehead.

Sitting there next to her, Vincent could feel her inner turmoil. He could feel her sadness. He felt the sudden intensity of her pain and then, as if someone had flipped a light switch, he felt her disappear. Their renewed connection was there … and then … it was gone. The sudden emptiness … the sudden coldness … took his breath away.

“Catherine!” he gasped. “Catherine,” he said as he reached to touch her.

As soon as she felt Vincent’s touch she recoiled from it as if it caused her pain. She stood so quickly that she nearly tripped. She looked at him. She shook her head and held up her hands as if to say, “Don’t touch me.”

The look of fear and pain on her face frightened him. “Catherine. What can I do? Don’t shut me out, Catherine. Let me help you,” he pleaded. He watched her take several deep breaths. She stood in front of him trembling, and then a look of extreme fatigue came over her, she came toward him and leaned into his chest. Vincent enveloped her in his arms. He was frightened that he couldn’t feel her pain. But at least she was willing to let him touch her and comfort her.

“Catherine. Oh, Catherine.” Vincent said as they stood there. “I’m sorry, Catherine.” he whispered in her ear. He was silently berating himself for allowing Diana to come.

Diana had witnessed Catherine’s episode. “Vincent, is she all right?” she asked. When they didn’t answer she stood and said, “I’m sorry, Vincent, Catherine, I think maybe I should go.”

Catherine left the comfort of Vincent’s arms and walked toward Diana. Taking her hand and she shook her head. Catherine grabbed her notepad and pen and sat on the edge of Vincent’s bed.

As soon as Catherine sat down she wrote, “Thank you, Diana.”

Looking at the message, Diana asked, “I don’t understand. What are you thanking me for, Catherine?”

Catherine wrote without hesitating, “For coming and telling me that it’s over. And for everything you did for Vincent and Jacob. You risked your own life and you saved theirs. You saved my life too. We would all be dead if you hadn’t…” Her hand shook a little and she hesitated. And then she wrote, “… done what you did.”

Vincent was watching Catherine carefully. He noticed that her hands were shaking. It worried him.

Diana was a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. “I was just doing my job, Catherine.”

Catherine smiled and shook her head and wrote, “No, you weren’t. I saw you come in from the tunnels. Father must have shown you the way. And I heard you whisper Vincent’s name. You did it because you cared.”

When Diana didn’t speak, Catherine continued to write, “Vincent tells me that you were there for him through that terrible time in his life. I can never repay you for that.”

Diana still didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.

Catherine wrote one more thing, “I’m sorry you were hurt, Diana.”

Diana let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, Catherine!” she said. She sat on the edge of the bed next to Catherine and stared at the floor for a moment.

Then she admitted, “When I first heard that you were alive … I was so angry. I couldn’t understand how you could have done that to Vincent … to Jacob … to Joe. What kind of cold hearted person could walk out on her own child? I wondered how you could have hurt Vincent like that. The pain … nearly killed him. I made sure that Greg put me back on the case just so I could meet you. I wanted to meet “Saint Catherine” that Vincent loved so much that he could never love me.”

Looking Catherine square in the eyes she said, “I wanted to hate you, Catherine.” After a short pause she continued, “And then I saw that video … what Gabriel did to you …”

Catherine flinched at the mention of Gabriel’s name and began to rub the old scar on her wrist.

Diana went on, “But I still didn’t understand … I didn’t understand why you hadn’t gone to him … when it was all over. How you could have deserted your baby… But the deeper we investigated that book … the more I realized … that you must have known somehow that it wasn’t over. That you would never be safe again… and that they would never be safe … unless you were dead. Your instinct was right, Catherine.”

Watching them both, Vincent was frightened as he watched Catherine react to Diana’s confession. He had seen Catherine like this before. He could see her shaking. He could see the pain in her face and the tears on her cheeks. But he had no sense of her. Their connection was gone. She was using all of her strength to shield him from her pain, but she didn’t realize how much pain it was causing him to be unable to help her.

Diana continued, “But meeting you … here … seeing you both together. I understand now … why he could only love you. You fit together … like two pieces of a puzzle. You complete each other.” She closed her eyes and sighed, “I’m sorry, Catherine. I misjudged you … I terribly misjudged you.”

Still shaking, Catherine reached for Diana’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She was exhausted and weak, but she found the strength to stand up. She walked over to Vincent and placed her hand gently on his cheek and came close and kissed him softly. As she pulled back, their eyes locked.

Something in Vincent’s heart froze when he saw the look in her eyes. He saw resolve. She had made a decision … but what had she decided? He watched her in silence as she left the room.

Standing there watching her go, Vincent wasn’t sure what to do.

“Vincent? Is she all right?” Diana asked.

Continuing to look in the direction Catherine had gone, Vincent said, “No, Diana. She isn’t.”

Diana said, “I’m sorry, Vincent. I didn’t mean to cause her any …”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Diana,” Vincent interrupted. “You didn’t do this.” Turning to her he tried to explain, “This is something that she has been … struggling with.”

Continuing he said, “Thank you, Diana, for coming and for being so kind. Catherine is right … what you have done for us … it can never be repaid.”

Diana was increasingly uncomfortable. “I should go, Vincent. Is there someone who can guide me back?”

Vincent nodded and they walked out. After arranging an escort for Diana, he turned toward Catherine’s chamber.

Resolve

Catherine returned to her chamber. She had to get away from them. She was terrified that she would lose control of the storm of pain that was threatening to destroy her. It was taking all of her strength and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could do it. Alone in her room she could think.

I need to get away. She thought frantically, I need to get far away from Vincent before it crushes us both. I can’t hold it back much longer.

She sat huddled on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have a passport anymore. I can’t even get to my money without telling Peter or Joe. She sighed in exasperation, They would never let me go. She thought, How can I travel when I can’t even speak?

She sat there, alone in her chamber, trembling under the weight of it. And then the answer came, Of course! There is a place. I can go there without money or a passport. I won’t even need to speak. Vincent had given her the answer years ago. Yes, she thought, that is what I’ll do.

Vincent came into Catherine’s dimly lit chamber. At first he didn’t see her there. Where the warmth of their connection had been, only a few short hours before, there was only a cold gaping emptiness. It filled him with dread. Then he spotted her. She was sitting huddled among the pillows at the head of the bed.

“Catherine?” he whispered.

She looked up at him. She looked so tired and so sad.

“May I come in?” he asked.

He could see her nodding, but the expression on her face did not change. Was it just this morning that I stood in this very spot and watched her face light up with joy when she saw me? he asked himself. Was it just this morning that she walked smiling into my arms and made me feel complete? Now she seems as lost and alone as she was the night I found her in the cemetery.

Walking over to the bed, he stood near the edge. “I’m sorry, Catherine. I shouldn’t have let her come,” he said, “I was worried that something like this might happen.”

She reached for his hand.

That’s a good sign, he thought. At least she is reaching out for me.

And looking him in the eyes she shook her head as if to say, “It isn’t your fault.”

“What can I do?” he asked.

Hold me. You can hold me one last time, Vincent, she thought, Perhaps it will give me the strength to do what I need to do. But she knew she couldn’t write that. He would never let me go. So she pulled him toward her until he was sitting next to her on the bed and she leaned exhausted into his arms.

Vincent thought he understood what she was asking. He didn’t need words. He pulled her close and enveloped her in his arms.

“I love you, Catherine,” he breathed.

Soon he could feel her breathing become slow and even as she fell asleep cocooned in his embrace. He was thankful that she was willing to let him so close. But the emptiness in his heart where she had been just that morning was still there. And the feeling of dread persisted. Hours later when she turned in her sleep, he reached for a quilt to cover her and went back to his chamber.

Forever Catherine

Vincent slept a little later that usual the next morning. When he entered Catherine’s chamber she wasn’t there, so he headed for the dining hall to meet her there.

“Late again? I can’t hold food aside for you and Catherine every day, Vincent,” William gently scolded as he placed two plates on the table. “If the two of you really want to eat, you will need to get here when it’s served.”

Vincent looked confused, “Catherine hasn’t been here yet?”

“No,” William answered. “She’s not with you?”

Vincent was instantly concerned. He stood and said, “I must have missed her, I’ll be back in a few minutes, William.”

“It will be cold by then!” William called after him.

The feeling of dread had returned.

“Catherine?” Vincent said as he entered her chamber. There was no answer. Vincent was afraid to breathe. All he could feel of her was the emptiness inside of him where she had been. He could feel his pulse quicken as panic spread its icy fingers around his heart. Her room seemed the same as it had been the night before. Looking closer though he discovered that her “tunnel clothing” was laying across the end of the bed. Her duffle bag was open on the couch but her backpack was gone. Vincent sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Catherine, where are you?” That’s then he saw it, the wilted rose that he had left for her yesterday. Underneath it was a piece of paper that had been torn out of her note pad. Dearest Vincent, it began. His hand was shaking as he picked it up and read.

Dearest Vincent,

There are no words to express to you what a precious gift these last few months have been. I had almost stopped believing that life held anything so sweet and beautiful for me. I told you in the beginning, Vincent, that I had nothing to offer you but pain. I wish now that you had heeded my warnings. These past months have been a welcome respite from the pain I have tried to suppress for so long. I foolishly hoped that I was finally free of it. But tonight it has returned, like a threatening avalanche. I’m tired, Vincent. I don’t think I have the strength to hold it back anymore. I can feel it bearing down on me, threatening to destroy me in its path.  The reality of what I am and the pain that I have caused horrifies and shames me. Soon it will sweep over me and I will be crushed under its weight. But I can’t let it destroy you too. I pray that it hasn’t already destroyed Jacob. I need to get as far away from you as I can to spare you from it. Somewhere you can never find me. Please don’t try to find me, Vincent. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Forever, Catherine

Vincent froze as he read her note. He read it over several times, trying without success to find a hidden message within her words. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He came to himself when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice say, “Vincent?” Slowly looking up he saw Father standing beside him. William, Mary, Pascal and Mouse were standing near the entrance to the room looking worried.

“What’s happened, Vincent?” Father asked. “Where is Catherine?”

Vincent handed the note to Father and lay his head in his hands. “I don’t know, Father. I don’t know where she is.”

After reading it, Father handed the note back to Vincent and asked, “But your connection? I thought it had returned. Can’t you follow that?”

“No, Father. It’s gone,” Vincent answered in exasperation. “Last night … She is in so much pain … She is trying to protect me from it. I don’t know how she has the strength to do it. But she is doing it. I have no sense of her at all.”

“Do you have any idea where she might have gone? What would you like us to do?” Father asked.

“I’m not sure” Vincent said, looking around the room. “She is wearing her top sider clothes. So that could mean she has gone above. But she has left most of her belongings behind. Her backpack is missing though.”

“Surely if she is still here in the tunnels we will be able to find her,” Father said. “We can send everyone out to look for her.”

“Thank you, Father. I think we should send word to Peter right away. If she is above, she will need help. She will either go to him or to Joe.” Vincent directed, “Mouse can you deliver a message to Peter?”

Mouse smiled and nodded, “Okay good. Okay fine. Mouse can help.”

Turning to Pascal, Vincent asked, “Pascal, can you send word out on the pipes that Catherine is missing? Ask everyone to keep their eyes open for her in case she is still here below?”

Pascal nodded. “Yes, Vincent, I can do that. Don’t worry, Vincent, we’ll find her.”

“What can I do, Vincent? I want to help if I can,” Mary pleaded.

Vincent nodded. “Mary, I need you and Father to stay in Father’s chamber and direct everyone. You can keep track of what places have been searched and where everyone is going. The last thing we want is for anyone to get hurt or lost while we are looking for her. And when word comes from Peter we can decide where to go from there.”

“Yes, Father and I can do that. Try not to worry, Vincent,” she said as she turned to leave.

William was the only one left. He stood waiting for Vincent’s request. “What can I do?”

“William, without you in the kitchen we will all be in trouble. I need you to make sure everyone is fed and taken care of. Can you do that?” Vincent asked.

William nodded, “Yes, Vincent, I can definitely do that. But you haven’t eaten yet.”

Vincent shook his head. “William, I don’t think I can …”

William wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for and answer. “Vincent, you just gave me a job, and now you won’t let me do it. You won’t be of any help to Catherine if you make yourself sick. Now, before you do anything, you are coming with me and you are going to eat something,” he said sternly.

Vincent couldn’t help but smile a little. He stood up and put his arms around William’s shoulders. “I knew you were the man for the job, William.” And they turned and walked to the kitchen together.

Vincent was too restless to sit and wait for news. While he waited he went to every place in the tunnels that he and Catherine had shared. He went to the mirror pool. He searched the tunnels under the stage in central park, the Chamber of the Falls. With each place that he didn’t find her, his heart became heavier and heavier. He even went down to the Great Hall. The darkness and the silence there mocked him and the wind accused him, “You failed her, Vincent. You failed her,” it whispered repeatedly.

Returning to her chamber, despair weighed heavy on his shoulders. He sat on the edge of her bed with his head in his hands and groaned, “Catherine. Where are you, Catherine?”

“Vincent?” Through his agony, Vincent heard someone speak his name.

Looking up he tried to focus through his tears. I took moment for him to recognize who was standing there. Could it be …? “Peter? Joe? Jen?” he asked.

“Sorry, Vincent,” Mouse piped up. “Mouse didn’t know what to do. Peter said ‘take us down’. Not supposed to bring strangers down.” Mouse sounded worried. “Father will be mad. Is Vincent mad? Peter made Mouse bring them.”

Vincent placed his hand on Mouse’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Mouse. They are friends. They love Catherine. And they love Jacob and Rebecka. Don’t worry. Go ask Father to join us here.” Mouse nodded enthusiastically and turned to leave.

Turning to Peter, Vincent said, “She hasn’t come above. If she had, you wouldn’t have come down here.” He looked up to the ceiling in despair.

Peter reached out to him and said, “It’s going to be all right, Vincent. Let’s sit down and you can tell us what happened.”

Sitting around the table Vincent explained to them all that had happened when Diana had come to the tunnels the night before.

“I could tell she had made a decision I could see the resolve in her eyes. It struck fear in my heart, but I didn’t know what the decision was,” Vincent said resting his head again in his hands.

“Vincent, she loves you and she knows you love her,” Jen said, “I could see that much when she woke up in the hospital.”

Then Joe asked, “You don’t think she would do anything … like …?” He couldn’t finish the thought.

Peter caught his meaning, “No, Joe, no. She wouldn’t do that. She could have done that at any time in the last 25 years and no one would have known. She wouldn’t do that… to Vincent.” His voice trailed off.

Vincent spoke without looking up. “She believes it is going to kill her … the pain … I’m afraid it will too ... It almost succeeded once already. She believes that if she shares it with me … that it will kill me too. She doesn’t understand that my life is over without her in it anyway.”

“Vincent,” Father and Mary had entered Catherine’s chamber. Vincent looked up with cautious hope as Father came over to him. “All of the searchers have returned, Vincent. They have looked everywhere … even as far down as the catacombs.” Father shook his head. “Do you have any idea, Vincent? Any idea at all?”

Vincent stood up. “No, Father. I have no sense of her at all. I have to find her myself. She is here somewhere and I can’t leave her alone with this. I won’t come back until I find her, Father.”

“But, Vincent, all of the Upper Tunnels have been searched. She isn’t here,” Father said.

“SHE IS, FATHER! She is here … somewhere. She has to be,” Vincent said. “I won’t fail her again … I can’t fail her again.”

He left them all sitting there. “What now?” Joe asked

“I suppose all we can do is go back up top and wait. If she is up there, hopefully she will come to one of us.” Peter stood as if to head back.

Joe took Peter’s cue and stood. “I guess Peter’s right. C’mon, Jen, let’s go.” He held out his hand to her.

Jen continued to sit, “JOSEPH MAXWELL! I … AM … NOT … GOING ANYWHERE! I am not budging from this spot until I see Cathy’s … beautiful face come walking through that … that … whatever that is,” she said pointing to the chamber entrance. “You go on, Joe. You too, Peter. I’m sure I will be just fine right here.” At this point she was fighting back tears.

Joe looked around helplessly. “Peter … I can’t leave Jen here.”

Peter nodded. “All right then. I will go back up and wait there in case she turns up there. I’ll go find, Mouse to guide me.” He embraced Father on his way out and said, “We are getting too old for this, my friend.”

Mary put her arms around Jen and said, “Everything will be fine dear. Would you like me to bring you some tea?”

Answers In The Wind

Vincent once again searched all of the places that he could think of in the upper tunnels. He was almost beside himself with worry by the time he came to the Chamber of the Winds. He stood there on the bridge, looking at all the possible ways she could have gone. Perhaps he might hear an echo in the wind that could tell him which way to go or where to look for her.

He silently willed, Call out to me, Catherine. CALL OUT TO ME! So that I may hear. Scream my name! He stood there for several minutes turning this way and that, until his knees buckled under the weight of his grief and despair and he wept as he groaned her name.

“Catherine.” He looked upward and roared into the wind, “WHAT KIND OF A GOD ARE YOU?” he cried, “WAS THIS THE PLAN? TO GIVE HER BACK TO ME, ONLY TO RIP HER FROM ME AGAIN? HASN’T SHE SUFFERED ENOUGH? NO GOD COULD BE THAT CRUEL! HELP ME!”

Through his sobs he quietly begged, “Help me. Help me find her!” After weeping for a time he stood and roared her name into the Abyss. “CATTTTTTTTHERRRRRRRINNNNE! His roar reverberated through every corner of the tunnels. All of the tunnel dwellers stopped in their tracks as they heard his anguish echoing off the walls and through the tunnels. His cries pierced the hearts of all who heard them.

As he wept there on his knees, even the incessant echoes of lost conversations ceased for a moment at the sound of his agony. And then he heard it, like a whisper in the wind. It was her voice, but the way it had sounded years ago…

“If they ever found you ….” she said.

“They would never find me.” Vincent spoke with resolve, “I would vanish … bury myself deep inside the earth …”

“Then you would be lost to me,” she replied in despair.

“Without you, I would be lost to myself,” was his whispered reply.[63]

And then Vincent heard it again and then again,

“They would never find me. I would vanish … bury myself deep inside the earth …”

“They would never find me. I would vanish … bury myself deep inside the earth …”

He felt a flicker of light, a flicker of hope. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out the note that she had left and read it again. Yes, there it was, the hidden message.

She had written, “I need to get as far away from you as I can to spare you from it. Somewhere you can never find me.”

“Catherine” he whispered. “Of course … somewhere I can never find you … deep inside the earth.”

****

Somewhere deep in the tunnels, Catherine heard it too, Vincent’s anguished cry as he called her name. His scream resonated through her and pierced her heart like a knife. She leaned against the wall for support. She could feel the years of pain she had suppressed, that she had denied, beginning to roll over her. She could feel its weight beginning to crush her and when she heard him call out her name, something in her, something that was beyond her ability to control, tore its way to the surface and she heard herself scream out his name in return. “VINNNNNCENNNNT!” At first she didn’t even realize that the cry had come from her. Then she felt something within her burst and the flood was upon her. She tried to stop it. She took deep breaths and stumbled forward. She needed to find a place where he wouldn’t find her. He couldn’t find her … not like this … not like this …

****

At the same moment that Vincent had realized Catherine intended to bury herself deep in the tunnels, he heard it. Her scream was as filled with pain and anguish as his had been. He whipped around from side to side as it came up from the abyss as his name bounced off the sides of the cavern.

Where did it come from? he wondered. “Catherine, where are you?” He called out in desperation, “Where are you?” And then he felt it. For a moment it took his breath away. He could feel her pain washing over him. The floodgates were open and he knew that she had lost control of her emotions … and he knew … where she was!

Love Will Bring You Back

Vincent headed as fast as he could to the lower tunnels. The flame of his torch flickered wildly as he passed the Great Hall. He needed to keep it lit as he headed for the catacombs. It was so dark in the lower tunnels that even Vincent needed to light his way with a torch.

“I’m coming, Catherine. I’m coming,” he whispered. As he neared the cave where she was, he began to realize where he was. “Catherine, why would you come here?” he wondered. “Why would you come to this horrible place? Do you realize where you have come?”

He slowly made his way down the long narrow tunnel. As he came out of the tunnel into the cave, he breathed a sigh of relief.

There she was, sitting alone in that terrible dark cave. She was sitting there watching the flame of a single candle on the floor in front of her absently rubbing her wrist as if the scar still caused her pain.

Vincent stood very still watching her for several minutes. She hardly moved, but he could feel the tsunami of emotion that was washing over her. He could see the tears silently coursing down her face. He could feel that she was sinking in the sea of pain that she had held at bay so well for so many years. Vincent wanted to swim out to her and pull her safely to the shores of his love. He wanted to save her, the way she had saved him so long ago in this frightful place. But he was afraid to move or to startle her in any way. Finally he decided to move toward her as quietly as he could. He sat down on the floor behind her. When she didn’t pull away, he put his arms around her and gently took her hand in his and lightly rubbed the scar.

Resting his chin on her shoulder he whispered, “This scar is meaningless, Catherine. He doesn’t own you,” he whispered. “He never did. You could never belong to him, because we already belonged to each other. Nothing … he did could ever change that. He knew that in the end.”

Catherine had not recoiled from Vincent’s touch. But she didn’t seem to acknowledge him either. Vincent could feel that she was still trying to shut him out, to keep him from feeling her pain.

“I promised your father that I would protect you, Catherine, and watch over you and love you ‘til my last breath.[64] It’s time for me to keep that promise,” Vincent said.

“I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU ALONE WITH THIS. If it crushes you, Catherine … then it must crush us both. My life is meaningless without you anyway. When you died, Father told me to let the pain crush me, to let it sweep me away. He promised me that it would bring me back[65] … he was right, Catherine, it did. You and I have come too far. We have endured too much … to give up now. Let me help you. Let’s let it sweep us away … together. Our love for each other WILL bring us back.

“… Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

…But bears it out … even to the edge of doom.

“I love you Catherine. I have loved you every minute of every day from the very first moment I saw you. I will always love you, Catherine. ALWAYS.”

He could feel her trembling as if an earthquake within her was shaking her to the very foundation. She leaned back against him for support. His arms enveloped her as the sobs came from deep within her. He could feel the pain that she had suppressed for so long ripping its way out of her. They sat there like that for a long time, in the dim light of the cave, weeping together as the waves of memories washed over them. Memories of love and joy and memories of terror, loneliness, pain and regret.

Finally, as the flood of pain subsided, Catherine began to look around her as if she had just realized where she really was. The silence was finally broken by Catherine. “This is where it began,” she said.

Vincent was startled to hear her voice. She had barely spoken a word in the months that she had been here in the tunnels. He had begun to think that she might never be able to speak again. He softly replied, “Where what began?”

“The death of my dreams,” she said. “This is where I came face to face with …” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.

Vincent thought he understood what she was going to say and finished her sentence. “… where you came face to face with what I really am.” His voice was tinged with regret.

Catherine shook her head. She lifted her hand up to his face and stroked it gently and said, “NO. No, Vincent. Where I came face to face with what I really am, with what I had done to you. What I had the power to do. How my love had tortured you.”

She was quiet for a few moments and then said, “I’m so sorry, Vincent.”

Vincent tightened his embrace and whispered, “What do you mean, ‘what you really are’? Catherine, there is nothing but GOOD in you. What happened to me, what happened to us, was NOT your fault. If anything, it was you, it was your love that kept it at bay for so long. It was your courage, and your love that carried me through it.”

Catherine began to shake her head as Vincent continued, “There is no need to be sorry. Catherine, you had the courage to love me. Do you have any idea what that meant to me? You had the courage to come into this dark place alone and you saved me. You have spent the last 25 years trying to protect me … and our son. The sacrifices you have made … Catherine … you have given me more than you can ever know. You’ve sacrificed enough. It’s time for you to stop. You can stop … now.”

She opened one of his hands and began tracing the burn scars from Gabriel’s cage. Vincent knew that she blamed herself for that too. He said, “That wasn’t your fault either.”

She shook her head and said, “If you had never known me, Vincent … If Elliot had never known me … How many people are dead because of me?”

He tried to explain, “You are wrong, Catherine. No one… NO ONE is dead because of you. What happened to us … All of it, was done by evil men. You had no control over that.”

As he gazed into the flame of the candle he continued, “For years, when I close my eyes at night, I’ve seen a lone flame fighting against the wind. I’ve always wondered what it meant … what it was. Now I think I know.”

After a brief silence Catherine asked, “I’ve seen it too. What do you think it is?”

Vincent answered, “It’s you, Catherine. There is a light in you that shines into the lives of everyone you know. Even when I believed you were dead, when you were hiding, I could still see your light. Good and evil exist in this world, just like light and darkness. Evil men like Paracelsus, like Gabriel tried to destroy you because you shined your light into that darkness and they hated you for it. Elliot Burch was drawn to your light just like I was. He loved you even when you didn’t return that love because he needed your light to lead him out of the dark. He knew that he was a better man because of you.

“I am a better man because of you. You led me out of the dark, Catherine. Even Gabriel was drawn to your light. That’s why he couldn’t kill you, as evil as he was, he was drawn in by your light and he hated it at the same time. He couldn’t merely kill you, he wanted to watch that light in you die. He wanted to see you standing alone in the dark. He wanted to break you, but you wouldn’t break.”

Catherine closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “No one is unbreakable, Vincent. I feel so broken.”

“It’s true that part of you is broken. I can feel that too. But there is something deep within the heart of you Catherine … something strong … stronger than anything I have ever known or ever seen. What you have endured Catherine is … truly unbelievable. There is something in you that is unbreakable.”

They sat in a silent embrace for a while before Vincent asked, “Are you ready to go back?”

She nodded. As they attempted to get up off the floor they both realized that they couldn’t move. Catherine began to laugh softly.

“What’s so funny?” Vincent asked.

She answered with a chuckle, “We might be stuck here. I guess I’m getting too old for this, Vincent. I’m not sure I can straighten up.”

Vincent had realized he was also in a similar predicament. He smiled wryly and said, “I think maybe next time we should think this through.”

With that they both started laughing a little harder. After working together for several minutes they were able to get themselves to a standing position. As they finally straightened up enough to walk, they leaned against one another still laughing.

Smiling softly, Vincent said, “That’s such a beautiful sound.”

Catherine was confused. “What?”

“The sound of your laughter, it’s … it’s like … music. Jacob laughs like that too. It touches me somewhere … deep inside.” Vincent explained as he placed his hand over his heart.

Catherine reached up and took Vincent’s face in both of her hands. She kissed Vincent softly, deeply and said, “I love you, Vincent.”

Vincent was speechless for a moment and then said, “I already knew that.”

They stared deeply into each other’s eyes, she nodded and said, “As long as you know.”

Vincent embraced her as if he might never let her go. Then suddenly he loosened his grip and his arms fell to his sides. Catherine looked up and could only see pain and… was it fear in his eyes?

She asked, “What? What’s wrong? Vincent?”

He finally answered with anguish in his voice. “I’m afraid.”

Catherine didn’t understand. “Of what? What can there possibly be left to fear?”

Vincent wasn’t sure how to put it into words, but he tried, “I don’t want to hurt you, Catherine. I’m still afraid … I’ll … hurt you.”

Catherine thought she understood what he meant, so she asked, “Do you mean … by … loving me?”

Vincent nodded in response, but he couldn’t look at her.

Catherine took his face in both of her hands and said, softly, “Look at me, Vincent.” Vincent looked at her. She could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Their eyes locked as she asked him, “Vincent, do you feel any fear in me? Do you see any fear in my eyes?”

Vincent shook his head. Then she said with conviction “That’s because I know that you would never hurt me. You could NEVER hurt me. Don’t you believe that?” Then with a slight smile she said, “Besides, I’m unbreakable. Remember?”

Vincent spoke, the pain still evident in his voice, “I want to believe you, Catherine.” He closed his eyes, sighed deeply and said again, “I want to believe.”

Catherine’s voice was filled with love and encouragement. “Don’t be afraid to hold me, Vincent. Don’t be afraid to love me. Trust yourself … Trust me.”

She kissed him again and in that moment he took some courage in her words and embraced her tightly. He said, “I’m sorry, Catherine. I feel like I’ve failed you.”

She laughed a little. He was curious why she would laugh when he was feeling so low. “Why do you laugh?” he asked.

She looked at him and said, “A thousand years ago I said those same words to you. Do you remember what you told me?”

“No,” he said. Then shaking his head he asked, “What?”

She repeated his words from so long ago, “… every moment that we share is a triumph and a gift. And every one of those moments is a lifetime, complete. There is no failure. It doesn’t mean our dream can never be. It just means that now is not the right time.”

She continued, “And when I asked you if we would ever be truly together you said, ‘Only if and when we understand how great the sacrifice and how large the fears and are able to move through them.’ You said ‘we are something that has never been, and our journey is one that none have ever taken ... We must go with courage, and we must go with care ...’

“Do you still believe that?” she asked.

Vincent laughed a little too. He kissed her forehead and then kissed her ever so gently on the mouth and said, “I do remember. It isn’t fair to use my own words against me, Catherine.” He sighed again and looked into her eyes and said, “Okay, I believe you. But do you think we will ever get there?”

She answered with conviction, “I believe it now, in this moment, more than I ever have. Yes, we will, Vincent. We will.”

They stood still in a silent embrace until eventually Vincent whispered, “We should go back. They’ll be worried.”

She nodded and they turned to leave. They both felt as if a great weight had been lifted.

Catherine looked at him curiously, which prompted Vincent to ask, “What?”

“Didn’t you used to be taller? They say people shrink as they get older, but if we are both shrinking, shouldn’t you look the same to me?”

At this Vincent laughed and took her in his arms again, “I do love you, Catherine.” he said.

Catherine laughed too, “I love you too, Vincent.”

They walked out of the cave hand in hand, leaving behind them all the years of pain and sorrow and a small flame flickering alone in the dark.

Returned

Joe and Jen had waited in Catherine’s chamber for several hours after Vincent left them. Father and Mary kept them company well into the night. When there was no word from Vincent, Mary made up Catherine’s bed for them. Despite their worry for Vincent and Catherine, Joe and Jenny fell into a comfortable sleep. Early in the morning, Jen sat bolt upright in the bed and shook Joe awake. “Joe! Wake up, Joe!”

“Ahhhh, Ma. Come on, it’s Saturday,” Joe said.

Jen laughed. “Nice try, Mr. Maxwell. Wake up, Joe. He found her. Vincent found Cathy. They are coming back!”

Joe jumped up, “What did you say? He found her? Where? Where?” Looking around he looked confused. “What time is it, Jen? How do you know they are coming back?”

“It’s 4 o’clock … I had a dream, Joe. They’re on their way back and Cathy’s fine,” Jen said.

“Oh. Okay, Jen. You had a dream. That’s great, Honey. Can you let me have one now please?” Joe said as he lay back down and rolled over.

A few hours later Pascal found Father and Mary sitting with Joe and Jenny in the dining hall. “Father,” he said, trying to catch his breath, “Vincent just sent word on the pipes. He’s found Catherine. She’s fine. They are on their way back. They are very far down though.” Word spread quickly through the dining room and a cheer went up from everyone there.

Jen looked at Joe in a way that needed no words, “I know, I know … ‘I told you so’” Joe replied to her. “I should know by now that you are always right.” He smiled and Jen put her arms around him and laughed.

By midmorning Jenny was getting worried. “How far away could they be? What is taking them so long?” she asked.

Father tried to explain, “Jenny, there are hundreds and hundreds of miles of tunnels down here. Those of us who live here don’t even know how far they go. Don’t’ worry, Vincent knows the tunnels better than anyone … with the possible exception of Mouse. I’m sure they are fine.”

“They are probably taking their time,” Mary offered. “They have been through an ordeal and Catherine still tires easily. Don’t worry, Jen.” Mary patted Jen’s hand.

Mary had been right. Vincent was concerned about Catherine making the trek back. He insisted that they stop from time to time so she could rest. The truth was that he didn’t mind letting her rest in his arms whenever she needed to. He was painfully aware of how close he had come to losing her forever. Finally, early in the evening they arrived at the Chamber of the Falls. Turning to Catherine, Vincent asked, “Would you like to stop here and rest?”

Catherine shook her head and said, “No, I don’t want to cause them any more worry.” She looked around and took a deep breath. She slipped easily into Vincent’s arms and embraced him. “Thank you, Vincent. Thank you for finding for me,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head and held her close. “I would never give up on you, Catherine,” he said with a sigh.

A short time later they entered Catherine’s chamber. Catherine wasn’t surprised to find it occupied. But when she focused her eyes on the occupant she was very surprised. “Jenny? Is that you? What on earth are you …?”

By the time Catherine had said that much, Jen had spanned the length of the room and was hugging Catherine tightly. “Cathy! Honey, you are sure a sight for sore eyes.”

Joe joined her. “Where have you been? We were worried sick about you!”

“Joe,” Catherine said. “Oh, Joe. It’s so good to see you.” Looking around at everyone, Catherine said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I worried everyone. I’m fine.”

Father looked over at Vincent in shocked wonder. It was the first time he had heard Catherine speak since she had come to the tunnels.

Vincent walked over to Father and put his arm around his shoulder. “Vincent,” Father said. “I have no words.”

Vincent smiled and cried at the same time. Mary was still worried about them both.

That’s when Mary sprang into action. “Oh my, the two of you must be exhausted and hungry. We need to leave these two so they can get some rest. Vincent I will go to the kitchen and see if William can scare up something for you two to eat.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Vincent said.

“Yes, I suppose we need to be getting home,” Joe agreed. “Come on, Honey. You can see Cathy soon, when she has gotten some rest.”

Jenny couldn’t stop hugging Catherine. “I promise, Jen, I’m okay.” They stood looking at each other.

“Oh, Cathy,” Jen said. “I am so glad you’re all right. I have been so worried about you. One day, and it better be soon, you are going to have to tell me everything. And I mean everything.”

Catherine laughed and hugged her best friend. “It’s a date, Jen. I promise. I will be in touch soon, okay?”

Time To Go

Catherine was so drained by what she had experienced that she slept a dreamless sleep for several hours. Shortly before she woke, she felt two little arms squeeze her gently around the neck and a sweet familiar voice say, “ฉันรักคุณ Cici” “I love you, Cici.” Catherine woke up as she called out, “Candy?”

Sitting up she realized it had only been a dream. She was disoriented and unsure of the time. A few lit candles provided enough light for her to make out the antique clock on the opposite side of the chamber. It was 3am. The tunnels were eerily quiet this early in the morning. She felt strange, like there was somewhere she was supposed to be, something she was supposed to be doing. Then she saw them … laying over the back of the sofa was a set of warm winter clothes (the kind top siders wore) and a coat that Peter had brought down for her. And she remembered…

… “Yes … it’s time,” she whispered to herself. “Time to go.” She breathed deeply and exhaled, as if she was trying to gather strength. She picked up the clothes and her toiletries and headed for the bathing chambers. It felt good to be submerged in the warm water of the hot springs. She didn’t see anyone while she was on her errand. It was a small blessing for which she was grateful. She didn’t feel up to talking to people yet. She felt refreshed back in her chamber as she gathered and packed her meager belongings.

Entering the chamber Vincent could see that Catherine had removed all traces of herself from the room. She was packing the last of her things into her backpack.

“You’re leaving,” he said.

Catherine paused at the sound of his voice and looked lovingly at Vincent. “I have to.” She sat on the edge of the bed near where he stood and reached for his hand.

“Catherine, why?” Vincent asked.

“You know why,” Catherine spoke softly, “These past months, I have been unable to speak, Vincent, but I haven’t been blind. Your heart aches for him ... for Jake. Have you ever been apart for this long before?”

Something caught in Vincent’s voice as he answered, “No. Never.”

She kissed the back of his hand and said, “He won’t come back, Vincent. Not as long as I’m here. You know that. Jake needs you and you need him.”

“I need you too, Catherine. I don’t want to choose between the two of you,” he replied.

Catherine shook her head and said, “You don’t have to. He’s our son, Vincent. He’s already lost his mother. He can’t lose his father too. I won’t be far, I promise. I will be just above.”

“When will you go?” he asked, pulling her to him and into his arms.

“At first light. Will you guide me up, Vincent?” she asked.

“Yes, Catherine, of course I will. But it’s only 4 am. We still have a couple of hours before you need to leave. What would you like to do?” he asked.

She was quiet. She didn’t know if she should ask.

“Catherine? What is it?” he asked again.

“I have no right to ask, Vincent. I have never really been a mother to Jake, but I was wondering …” she hesitated.

Vincent put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her face so that he could see her eyes. “Catherine,” he insisted, “… you are Jacob’s mother. You have loved him and protected him the only way you could since the day he was born. What is it?”

Finally she said, “I was wondering if you could tell me … about Jake … what he was like … growing up?”

Vincent smiled and nodded. He sat beside her on the bed and pulled her close and for the next two hours they talked about their son. As the time to leave grew closer, Vincent looked down at Catherine curled up next to him. She was looking intently at him, but he could quite read her expression. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

Smiling, Catherine, tilted her head to one side.

“Your love for him, Vincent … it’s like a light that shines out of your face when you talk about him. You are an amazing father. You are an amazing man… I love you,” she said softly.

They were both quiet for a moment as they stared at each other. For some reason when she said that his heart felt as if it were going to burst out of his chest. Before he could stop himself, he bent his head down and began kissing her more passionately than he ever had before. He felt like he was on fire. They were both swept up in the whirlwind of their love. For a moment he came up for air and he saw in her face … nothing except her whole-hearted love for him and her complete trust in him. She reached out and touched his face. Suddenly he shook his head and jumped up. He was pacing and holding his head as if it were going to explode.

“Vincent,” Catherine said softly.

He picked up her coat and said, “We had better go, Catherine.”

They were both silent as they made their way up to the park entrance tunnel. The first streaks of daylight were just beginning to spread across the sky. It looked like there had been a light snow during the night. They could hear the distant sounds of the city waking from its slumber.

Catherine tightened a scarf around her neck and pulled a knitted hat and matching pair of gloves out of her coat pockets. She smiled and said, “Peter thought of everything.”

She looked up at Vincent longingly. “Vincent”

He finally looked at her. She could see the pain in his eyes. She leaned close and kissed him softly and then buried her face in his chest.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. Neither of them made a move to part from the other. He rested his chin on her head and said, “You don’t have to go, Catherine.”

She sighed and said, “Yes, I do… We both know … that I do.”

He nodded reluctantly, but still made no move to let her go. “I will have someone bring your duffle bag and your backpack to Peter’s later today.”

She nodded and stood up straight. She turned and kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked out of the tunnel.

…. As she made her way out of the park, Catherine left a lonely trail of footprints in the freshly fallen snow.

Longing

April 8, 2015

It had been 4 long, agonizing months since Catherine had returned above. Being apart from each other was taking its toll on both Catherine and Vincent. But they didn’t speak of it. They knew there was nothing that could be done about it. They had made the decision together and they both agreed that Jacob could not lose his home or his father so that they could be together. That was a price neither of them were willing to pay. So they had to be content with the way things were.

Catherine lived a quiet life for the most part. She had renewed her friendship with Jen and Joe and she saw them regularly. She kept herself busy working between the two shelters that her foundation supported. Some members of “society” had reached out to her, but that was a world that no longer had any appeal for her. There was only one thing in the world that Catherine truly wanted and she knew she would never find it in the world above. No matter what she did to stay busy, Vincent was never far from her thoughts.

Vincent had tried to keep himself occupied with life in the tunnels. He had classes to teach and Father had turned over most of the day to day business of managing the tunnel community to him. It should have been easy to keep his mind occupied. But there was only one thing Vincent wanted. She was his only world and she was just out of reach, in the world above. Even though they couldn’t be together, they were never really apart. Vincent could feel her love and her longing for him no matter how deep in the tunnels he might be. It tortured him and it warmed and comforted him at the same time. That torture would be eased a little bit today though. He would see her tonight and knowing that eased his burden and lightened his heart as he went about his day.

****

Catherine was quietly reading when she heard the tap on the balcony door. Peter had gone to bed hours before. At the sound her heart began beating wildly. She rushed to open it and flew into Vincent’s waiting embrace. It was as if both of them could only breathe when they were in each other’s arms. After a few minutes she pulled him in and closed the door. They sat on the couch in each other’s arms for several minutes before either of them spoke. Catherine laughed softly.

“What amuses you, Catherine?” Vincent asked.

She lifted her head off of his chest to see his face and said, “It doesn’t seem to make any difference how old I am, Vincent, whenever you come to see me, I feel like I’m 16 year’s old and going on my first date.”

Vincent laughed and ran his hands absently through her hair. “That’s funny, whenever I climb that fire escape, I feel like I’m 60 and I’m … wait … I am 60.”

They both laughed.

Noticing her book on the coffee table, he asked, “What are you reading?”

“Hmmm? Oh, Sara Teasdale’s Love Songs,” she answered reaching for the book.

Vincent nodded, “Mmmmm. Her story is very sad. Does it make you melancholy?”

“No,” she said. “Over the years I found her poetry … comforting … It made me realize that l wasn’t the only one who had ever lost someone I loved. It made me feel less … alone. Sara found words for the ache that made it somehow sweet and beautiful. Sometimes I could see your face as I read. It was like she was writing about us. Would you like me to read some of them to you?”

Vincent smiled. “Yes, Catherine, I would like that.”

Vincent was transformed as she read. Her voice whispered of love with every syllable. He was a little disappointed when she closed the book. “You still read beautifully, Catherine,” he said.

She smiled wistfully. Then changing the subject she asked, “Have you heard anything from Jake?”

“No,” he sighed the word more than he actually said it. “I’m beginning to think he won’t come back, Catherine.”

“He will come back, Vincent. Don’t give up on him,” Catherine assured him.

“What makes you so sure?” he asked.

She smiled, “Because, I have seen your face when you talk about him. Any child that grows up basking in love like that, can’t live long without it. He needs your love to nourish him, Vincent. Just like you need his.”

“But he has Rebecka. He has her love,” Vincent replied.

Catherine nodded, “Yes, he does have Rebecka. And you have me. But having my love doesn’t make your heart ache any less for him, does it? And besides, Rebecka needs her parents too. Trust me, Vincent, sooner or later, they will be back.”

He held her close and said, “Your confidence makes me believe it.” He couldn’t help but kiss her.

“What about Candy? Has Joe been able to find anything out?” he asked.

She shook her head, “Only that she has been adopted. The Thai Government says the records are sealed for the safety of the adoptive family as well as the child. I can’t ask them because it isn’t any business of Catherine Chandler, and Cici Chamberlain doesn’t even exist.”

“If she has been adopted then that is a good thing, right?” he asked.

“I hope so, Vincent, I hope so.” She didn’t sound convinced. She didn’t tell him how Candy haunted her dreams. She didn’t want him to worry.

He held her reassuringly. As the quiet settled around them, he said, “I better get back. I have to teach in the morning and you still need your rest.”

They were both reluctant to say goodbye. That was always the worst part. It was physically painful for both of them, but neither of them ever mentioned it. They both knew that acknowledging it would only make it worse.

As Vincent made his way home through the park and into the tunnels he replayed every moment of their evening in his mind as he would every day for the coming week. He knew it would lessen the longing for her until he could see her again.

A Change of Heart

Entering his chamber, Vincent was surprised to find it occupied.  He blinked twice to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

It was Jacob. He was looking at the portrait of his parents and had his back to the entry way of the room, so he didn’t notice anyone enter.

Vincent approached him slowly and put his hand on his shoulder. Jake spun around, startled by the contact. They looked at each other for a moment and then embraced. As they loosened their hold on each other, they didn’t speak. They stood there looking at each other. Jake looked sadly at his father and Vincent looked lovingly and gratefully at his son.

Finally Vincent said, “I was afraid I might never see you again. Have you been well?”

Jake nodded, “Yes, I’ve been well.” Looking around he asked, “Where’s Catherine?”

“She’s not here,” Vincent said.

Jake looked at his father questioningly and asked, “Where is she?”

“She’s recovered. She went back above.”

Jake was startled by the answer and asked, “She left you? Again?”

“No, Jacob, she hasn’t left me,” Vincent replied. “She’s just above.”

Jake was confused, “I don’t understand.”

Vincent tried to explain, “Catherine didn’t want to come between you and me. She thought that as long as she was here, below, that you would stay away. She felt that you had already lost your mother and she didn’t want you to lose your father too. So as soon as she was well enough, she returned above.

Jake was silent for a long time as he looked at the portrait. “Was she always like that, Dad?” he finally asked.

“Like what?” Vincent asked.

Jake clarified, “Always thinking about other people before herself?”

Vincent was surprised at the softness in his tone. “Yes, Jacob, she was … always like that.”

Jake said, “I need to talk, Dad. Do you have some time?”

“I have as much time as you need, Jacob,” Vincent answered lovingly.

Then Jake asked, “Can we walk?”

Vincent nodded and they left Vincent’s chamber. For some time they walked in silence.

At length Jake said, “Becka and I have been working in Thailand. We were at the orphanage where Catherine lived. Where she worked … for all those years.”

As they walked Jake told his father about the two children Catherine had rescued from the streets many years before. He told him about the hundreds of orphans that had been saved from hopeless lives because of the work that Catherine had done there.

As Jake spoke to his father, Vincent could see the admiration in Jake’s eyes as he spoke about Catherine and her accomplishments. His heart swelled within him for the change in his son.

Jake continued, “We stayed there, at the orphanage for several months. Becka and I taught English, we helped build some new dorms. And I was able to set up some new programs with funds from her foundation. They don’t even know who she is, Dad. They told me about what Cici Chamberlain had done there, but they don’t have any idea that she is also Catherine Chandler. That most of the money that they have received over the last 20 years was from her. She never said anything. She never told anyone. What kind of a person does that?”

Vincent instantly recalled another conversation they had had about Catherine … “Normal people don’t just desert their children. Normal people don’t turn their backs on the people they are supposed to love. What kind of a person does that?”

Noticing the strange look on his father’s face, Jake stopped and asked, “What is it?”

Not understanding the question, Vincent asked, “What is ‘what’?”

“You had such a strange look on your face just then. What were you thinking about?” Jake asked.

Vincent answered thoughtfully, “You’ve changed over these past months.”

Jake thought for a moment. He pulled Catherine’s journal from his jacket pocket and handed it to his father.

Shaking his head he said, “I was so wrong, Dad, about her. I am so ashamed of myself.” Jake had tears in his eyes as he raked his hands through his hair.

Vincent was silent for a moment. Jake’s words hung in the air. Then changing the subject Vincent asked, “How is Becka? When did you get back?”

Jake smiled a little and said, “She’s fine, Dad. We have been back for about 6 weeks.”

Vincent was a little surprised. “That long?”

Jake nodded and then admitted, “I was afraid to come down here. I didn’t want to face her. Not after the things I said to her.”

“What made you come now?” Vincent asked.

Jake hesitantly said, “Dad, Becka and I had a baby. You have a granddaughter.” He paused for a moment.

Vincent was dumbfounded. Then he expressed his concern. “Jacob … Is she all right? Is she healthy? Is she … ?” He was hesitant to ask the last question.

Jake understood. “Dad … she’s … beautiful! She is absolutely perfect in every way,” he beamed.

Vincent embraced his son. “Congratulations, Jacob! I am so happy for you.”

And then Jake continued, “When I held her in my arms for the first time. I realized how tiny and helpless she is.” He tried to control his emotions as he spoke. “I never knew that it was even possible to love anyone like that ...”

He shook his head. “Dad… every time I look at her, every time I hold her, I keep asking myself … how much would I be willing to do to keep her safe? Would I have the strength to do what Catherine did? Would I be able to sacrifice everything and everyone I have ever loved? … all my hopes and dreams? …if it meant she would be safe?”

Vincent was silent. Their walk had brought them to the waterfall. For a long time they sat there in silence listening to the peaceful soothing sound of the water.

“How did she do it, Dad? How did she survive for all that time … alone?” Jake finally asked.

Vincent shook his head and softly said, “I don’t know, Jacob. She says that she learned not to hope or have any expectations. But I think that somewhere deep inside there must have been a spark of hope that someday, somehow she would see us again.”

Jake nodded, “Last year when I met her in Thailand, she said that she still believed that the darkest nights would eventually end. But at the time I had no idea … how long her “night” had been. How could she keep believing after all that time?”

They sat for a while longer in silence, and then Jake asked, “Do you think she would be willing to talk to me? After the things I said to her?”

“What did you say to her, Jacob?” Vincent asked.

Jake looked at him in surprise. “She never told you?”

Vincent shook his head.

“I can’t repeat it, Dad. It was … it was … unforgivable…” Jake said as he looked away in shame.

Vincent laughed a little. “You know you are a lot like her, Jacob. You both give so much love and mercy to others and yet you spare so little for yourselves. Why don’t you go to see her and speak to her?”

“Dad, I can’t,” Jake said. “What if she won’t see me? I was wondering if you could ask her to come here and talk to me? I was thinking we could have the baby’s naming ceremony this weekend. If she is willing to come and talk to me, then she can be here for that.”

Vincent agreed. “I can do that, Jacob. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

Jake smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I know that. … Dad, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Vincent asked.

Jake looked searchingly at his father and asked, “Why didn’t you marry her? You both loved each other so deeply … and yet …”

Vincent was thoughtful. “We were still trying to find our way when Gabriel took her. I suppose if that hadn’t happened … perhaps we …” His voice trailed off.

Jake persisted, “But Dad, what’s stopping you from asking her now?”

He could tell by the look on Vincent’s face that his father was reluctant to say. “Is it me? Am I what’s stopping you now?”

“It isn’t just you, Jacob. I … it’s mostly me. I suppose, back then, I thought she deserved so much more than I could ever offer her,” he said sadly. “Maybe I still do.”

Jake was astonished. “But Dad, isn’t that for her to decide?” he asked. “She has only ever wanted you. It’s not like she’s been waiting all this time for someone better to come along. … She’s been waiting for you. She loves you. Life is offering you this amazing, precious gift, Dad. Why won’t you accept the gift?”

Vincent was astonished, not only at his son’s advice, but that he had chosen those particular words. Words that he had used as he pleaded with Catherine a few months before.

When they went their separate ways, Vincent stayed for a while at the waterfall and pondered his son’s advice. It seemed as if he could hear Catherine’s voice in the echoes of a long forgotten conversation.

“Vincent” she had said, “… if this is my fate, I accept it gratefully. You must believe that. Don’t be afraid to want it … even only for yourself. Don’t be afraid to deserve it. You deserve everything.”[66]

Seeking out Father, Vincent shared with him what had transpired between him and his son.

“What do you think I should do, Father?” Vincent asked. “Can I in good conscience ask her to sacrifice more by coming here to live with me when she has already sacrificed so much?”

Father silently went over to an old wooden chest and pulled out a small box. Walking slowly, he said, “I think that young Jacob is right. It is for her to decide, not you. If you don’t give her the chance to make that choice, then you are a fool. You and Catherine are a part of each other, Vincent. You have been from the beginning. Don’t you think it’s time for you both to finally be together?” Then placing the box in Vincent’s hand, he said “This is the ring I gave Margaret the day I asked her to marry me. I hope you put it to good use.”

Honeysuckle In Bloom

April 10, 2015

Catherine went to bed early. She still struggled with extreme fatigue from time to time. She slept soundly for a few hours when she thought she could hear someone crying. She followed it in the dark until she came to a room she didn’t recognize. As she came close to the bed she saw that it was … Candy, weeping as if her heart would break. Catherine sat on the floor close to her bed. She wanted desperately to reach out and stroke her hair the way she used to. She knew from past experience that she couldn’t. All she could do was sing to her. So that is what she did. Slowly Candy’s sobs became quiet and she looked up and smiled at Catherine. Just then a ribbon of light came from the direction of the door and Catherine woke up with a start.

Catherine couldn’t go back to sleep. She kept thinking about her dream. She was worried about Candy. What if the people who adopted her are unkind? What if she is in trouble? Her mind raced with possibilities.  …..

…….. She stood in her rooftop garden staring at the stars. There was a slight breeze. The cool air felt refreshing on her face. As she thought about where she was a year ago, she was amazed at how much had happened since then. It was hard to believe that so much could have happened in such a short span of time.

It was a year since she had taken Candy to Operation Smile to have her surgery. A year since she had met her son for the first time. A year since events had taken on a life of their own to bring her back to New York.

Catherine wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She was incredibly thankful to be alive and to have Vincent in her life again, even in a limited way. Her heart ached at the pain she had caused her son. She wondered if he would ever be able to forgive her. She was incredibly worried about Candy and what had become of her. She said a silent prayer for the little girl who had stolen her heart.

A slight breeze drew her attention to the smell of honeysuckle blossoms. That can’t be, she thought. It’s too early. But as she turned her eyes toward the vines, she was amazed to find that they had indeed already begun to bloom. She leaned her face toward them to drink in the beautiful scent. Smiling wistfully, she thought, this must be a good omen. Then she heard him …

“Catherine,” Vincent whispered.

Catherine turned toward his voice in surprise. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him and smiled. She reached out to touch him to be sure. Vincent took her hand and then came closer to put his arms around her. She laughed a little.

“What?” Vincent asked.

Catherine replied, smiling softly, “When I saw you there, I half thought you were a dream. I needed to touch you to be sure. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Vincent nodded and smiled. Then he looked more serious and asked, “What can I do, Catherine?”

Catherine didn’t understand what he meant, so he explained. “You look fine on the outside, but inside your emotions are swirling and colliding. What can I do?”

Catherine looked away. “I’m sorry, Vincent.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind. I feel like a part of me that I thought was lost forever is found again. But I want to help if I can,” Vincent said as he kissed her forehead.

Catherine took a deep breath and explained, “I was thinking about how much has happened since this time last year. Things I never dared to dream. I met our son. I almost died. I have you back in my life. But … my heart aches for the pain I have caused Jake. I wonder if he will ever be able to forgive me. I don’t even know if he should. … I dreamed about Candy tonight. She was weeping. I am so worried about her. Not knowing what’s happened to her.”

Vincent breathed deeply as he understood. “You’re going away? You’re going to try to find her?” Vincent asked, the fear visible in his eyes.

Catherine put her hand on his cheek and looked directly into his eyes. “I have to try to find out what’s happened to her, Vincent. She has no one in this world. She has known nothing but pain and rejection since the day she was born.”

Vincent said, “She’s had you, Catherine. She’s had your love.”

Catherine shook her head. “But for the last 9 months, she’s been alone. She’s so little, so defenseless. She must wonder why I left her. I need make sure she’s all right, if I can. Do you understand?”

Vincent gazed at her, nodded and said, “After everything you’ve been through, Catherine, you still have the greatest capacity for love of anyone I have ever known. I don’t understand how you survived the way you did all of those years.”

Catherine reflected for a moment and said, “I think that if it wasn’t for the orphanage, for the children, I would have probably just died. I was never sure if I was helping them or if they were helping me. I believe they saved me. I have to make sure that someone saves Candy.”

Vincent held her close. He wanted so badly to keep her here, to keep her close. But he realized that she had made up her mind. He asked, “When will you leave?”

Catherine replied, “As soon as I can get a new passport. I don’t know how long that will take. I’m sorry, Vincent. It won’t be like before, I promise I will come back as soon as I can.”

Vincent sighed heavily, “It’s hard being apart from you now. I don’t want you to go. But I do understand. It’s who you are, Catherine. Candy is blessed to have you.”

They stood together for a while before Vincent spoke again. “I am actually here on an errand.”

Catherine looked at him with a question in her eyes.

He continued, “Jacob came to see me yesterday. He asked me to come here for him. He wishes to speak with you.”

Catherine was surprised. “Why didn’t he come here himself?”

Vincent answered, “He was afraid you might not want to talk to him. He told me he said some pretty cruel things last time you spoke.”

Catherine was silent as she remembered their last encounter. Then she said, “He was in so much pain. Tell him he is welcome here any time.”

Vincent said, “He actually wants to speak with you below, in the tunnels.”

Catherine cocked her head and asked, “Why?”

Vincent answered, “That is all I’m allowed to say. He asked me to bring you there Friday night. Is that all right?”

“That’s fine,” she nodded. “I’ll meet you at the Park entrance just after dark?”

As Vincent returned to the tunnels with a heavy heart, he reached into his pocket and took out the crystal necklace and the ring. Have I lost my chance? Have I let the moment slip away? Am I losing her again? His heart was filled with dread at the thought…

The Circle is Complete

Late the next afternoon in Vincent’s chamber, he was attempting to read, but he couldn’t concentrate. He had a growing uneasiness about the coming hours. A feeling that no matter what happened, in the next several hours, whether it be good or bad, his life, his world, would never be the same. It filled him with excitement and it filled him with fear at the same time.

Jake poked his head into his father’s chamber. “Dad?”

Vincent jumped up out of his chair. “I’m here, Jacob,” was his reply.

As Jake approached, Vincent could see that he was carrying something in his arms. Jake held out the small wriggling bundle and placed it in Vincent’s arms. As Vincent opened the small blanket he saw, for the first time, the face of his granddaughter. In that moment he was filled with the same wonder and overwhelming love that he had felt years ago when he had beheld the face of his own newborn son for the first time.

It was hard for him to remember that there had once been a time in his life, many years ago, when he could never have imagined that life held such wonders and miracles for someone like himself. It had been Catherine who had first tried to make him believe. He thought he could hear her voice echo again, “Don’t be afraid to want it, even only for yourself. Don’t be afraid to deserve it. You deserve everything.”[67]

In that instant Vincent realized that he was finally beginning to believe those words. Maybe he did deserve everything…

“There is someone else I want you to meet, Dad,” Jacob said.

As Vincent looked up, he saw Becka coming into the chamber. Beside her was … his eyes widened as he realized …. And then he turned to look at Jacob who was smiling at them all …

****

Vincent rushed to meet Catherine at the allotted time. It had been difficult to pull himself away from his son and his new little family. But he didn’t want Catherine to find herself alone at the tunnel entrance. After all it was still New York City and it was still Central Park.

Catherine smiled nervously as he greeted her. She had spent the day trying to control the panic of seeing her son that was rising within her. She tried not to replay their last encounter over and over in her head. Vincent could feel her fear and nervous anticipation long before he saw her face. As soon as he closed the secret door behind her he took her in his arms. They stood there in embracing each other for several minutes before he spoke.

“Don’t worry, Catherine. It’s going to be all right,” he whispered

“Do you really believe it’s going to be all right, Vincent? Do you think he will forgive me?” she asked.

He could feel her desperation and her fear. “Yes, I do believe it, Catherine. Don’t be afraid,” he said reassuringly. He paused momentarily and then said, “I’ve been forbidden to say anything else. He wishes to speak to you himself.”

He could still see the worry on her face. He leaned close and kissed her softly. And then whispered, “Don’t worry, Catherine. It’s going to be all right.”

They walked in silence hand in hand the rest of the way.

Standing alone in Vincent’s chamber, Catherine was doing her best to stay calm. So many of her precious memories were wrapped in the fragile tissue of love that began in this very room so many years ago. She walked slowly around the chamber touching each thing, drinking them in as if it might be for the last time. She finally came around to a large covered canvas. She carefully pulled away the fabric to reveal the portrait underneath. Tears brimmed and sparkled in her eyes as she looked at it. She reached out to stroke the cheek of Vincent’s image. She no longer attempted to control the waves of emotion that she was feeling. She had promised Vincent that she wouldn’t keep them from him anymore. Knowing he was nearby gave her strength. As she stood lost in the memories evoked by the painting, she heard Jake speak from close behind her.

“I see you found her,” he said.

Catherine turned toward him with a question in her eyes.

Pointing to the portrait, he continued, “My angel. She used to come to me when I had bad dreams. She would sing to me until I stopped crying. She always made the bad go away.”

He sang a little bit of the song Catherine knew so well and then he said, “I didn’t know until I was older exactly who she was, but I always knew she loved me.”

Catherine looked bewildered as his words sunk in.

She didn’t speak so he went on. “Once, when I was about 5 years old, my Father took me to a concert under the Park. I remember the symphony was playing and it began to rain. It came pouring through the grate just above our heads and I was so excited. We were dancing and laughing in the rain and she came. I can still hear the sound of her laughter as she watched us. It pierced me to the heart. Like the lullaby she would sing. Then she disappeared.”

Catherine remembered that sweet dream as if it was yesterday.

“You remember that too?” he asked.

Catherine nodded and said, “I thought those were just my … wishes … my dreams. I didn’t know … that I was really here.”

Jake brought her journal from behind his back. “I believe this belongs to you. Dad discovered it among a box of books that I had returned to him. I’m not really sure how I came to have it. I didn’t take it on purpose, I’m sorry. Dad insisted that I read it. He thought it might help me to understand ... some … things … He told me that I should remember that there is a truth that is greater than knowledge.”

Catherine nodded. “Yes,” she whispered and slowly reached out and took it from his hands. She was too overwhelmed to say anything. She opened the book to the front and stroked Vincent’s name. She began to read the inscription out loud, “Though lovers be lost love shall not …”

They looked at each other for a moment. Then Jake broke the silence, “Can you ever forgive me, Catherine? For the terrible things I said? How I acted? I am truly sorry.”

She tentatively reached out to hold his hand. She was afraid that he might be one of her dreams. When he didn’t disappear or pull away she said, “There is nothing to forgive, Jake. Your pain was real. You have a right to your pain. I understood.”

He reached out and embraced her tightly and began to sob. Catherine embraced him and comforted him. She breathed in deeply and silently thanked God for this wonderful unexpected gift. It was the first time she had ever held her son.

After a few minutes he was more in control of himself. He took a deep breath and said, “There is someone I want you to meet.”

He guided her to a large chair and motioned for her to sit down and said, “Wait here for a minute.” He walked out of the chamber and returned in a moment with Becka. In her arms, Becka was carrying a small bundle. Catherine was a little surprised when Becka placed the bundle in her arms.

Jake said, “Mom, apparently you already know my wife, Becka, but I would like you to meet your granddaughter.”

Catherine opened up the blanket to reveal a beautiful baby girl. She gasped, “Oh, Becka, she’s beautiful!”

Jake smiled and asked, “How does it feel to be a grandmother?”

Catherine was speechless as she embraced the baby and breathed in her sweetness. She closed her eyes and swayed back and forth a little. She looked at the baby again in amazement and sighed, “Oh, Jake, I’m so happy for you.” And looking to Becka she said, “and you too, Becka. Congratulations!”

As she returned the baby to Becka’s arms Jake said, “We are having her naming ceremony tonight. We were hoping that you would be a part of it.”

Catherine turned to him with tear filled eyes and said, “I would love that, Jake. Thank you.”

Jake continued, “And we were wondering if you would mind if we named her … Catherine? We want to call her Katy.”

Catherine was so shocked at the request that she was momentarily speechless. She finally nodded and said, “That would be fine, Jake. I must say I am a little overwhelmed.”

Jake wasn’t finished. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her. And quietly said, “Mom, I need to talk to you about one more thing.”

The room became very hushed. Catherine sensed that he was very serious.

“These last several months Becka and I have been in Thailand working at the orphanage where you worked, where you lived,” he said.

She held her breath and asked, “Did you see Candy? Is she all right?”

Jake replied, “Candy isn’t there anymore, Mom. She’s been adopted.”

Catherine’s heart sank as she asked, “When? Do you know who adopted her? Do you know where she is? Is she safe?”

Before Jake could answer any of her questions they heard a small voice say, “My Cici?”

Catherine turned to see Vincent standing at the door of the chamber with Candy in his arms. Catherine rose out of her chair. Her hands covered her mouth. She was visibly shaking as tears flowed freely down her face. “Candy?’ she whispered through her tears.

Vincent put Candy down and she ran as fast as she could into Catherine’s arms. She wrapped her little arms so tightly around Catherine’s neck that she could barely breathe. Candy sobbed as she repeated, “ฉัน Cici, Cici ของฉัน” “My Cici. My Cici.” Over and over. She stroked Catherine’s wet cheeks and kissed her repeatedly about the face.

“คุณไม่ได้กลับมา” “You didn’t come back,” Candy explained through her sobs. “เขากล่าวว่า"กรุ๊ปเป็นตายไปแล้ว” “They said Cici is dead.”

Catherine stroked Candy’s hair and held her close. “Shhhh. Candy. อย่าร้องไห้ Don’t cry. Shhhh ฉันยังไม่ตาย ฉันยังไม่ตาย I’m not dead. I’m not dead. ฉันขอโทษฉันไม่ได้กลับมา I’m sorry I didn’t come back. ผมป่วยมาก แต่ฉันดีมากตอนนี้ I was very sick, but I’m much better now. ฉันส่งหมอเจคที่จะได้พบกับคุณ I asked Doc Jake to find you. ทุกอย่างจะดีตอนนี้ Everything will be fine now.” She held Candy close and then they looked at each other and laughed. Then Catherine reached out for Jake and grasped his hand and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

Vincent stood by, amazed at the exchange between Catherine and Candy. He couldn’t understand the words they spoke to each other. But he understood the love that passed between them. He didn’t think it was possible, but in that moment, watching Catherine and Candy reunited Vincent realized that he loved Catherine even more than he ever had before.

As they entered the Great Hall for the naming ceremony, Catherine’s heart swelled with gratitude and love for all the friends that surrounded them. When she saw Joe and Jen Maxwell she realized that the circle was complete. Jake asked Vincent to conduct the ceremony.

As Jake and Becka stood in the circle holding Candy and little Katy, the room became hushed and Vincent began…

“It has been said that the child is the meaning of this life. Today we celebrate these children. These two new lives that have been brought into our world. We welcome these children with love that they may be able to love. We welcome these children with gifts that they may learn generosity. And we welcome these children with names …”

Jake stepped forward with Candy and said, “The name we have chosen for her is Candy Genevieve Vincent.”

Jen Maxwell smiled with pride at her little namesake.

Becka stepped forward with the baby and said, “The name we have chosen for her is Catherine Chandler Vincent.”

Vincent put his arm around Catherine’s shoulder and pulled her close. Catherine felt as if she was finally home.

People began coming forward presenting the children with gifts and the celebration began. The grandmothers took over the children with loving care while Vincent and Joe congratulated Jake and offered fatherly advice.

Later in the evening during the festivities Vincent found Catherine standing in a quiet corner of the Great Hall gently rocking little Katy who was asleep in her arms. Putting his arms around them both he whispered in her ear, “How does it feel? To hold your granddaughter in your arms?”

Catherine smiled up at him and whispered, “It’s like holding a little piece of eternity.” Then looking at Katy’s sweet little face, she said, “She’s so beautiful, Vincent. She takes my breath away.”

Vincent smiled and nodded in agreement. “She looks like her grandmother. Then he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

She looked surprised and asked, “Do you think we can? Without waking her up?”

Vincent smiled and led her to the dance floor. He gently embraced Catherine and Katy and they began to dance. As they danced Vincent couldn’t take his eyes off of Catherine. She had the same expression on her face that he had seen years ago when he had accidently discovered her dancing here alone in her dreams. And as they swayed to the music, they both felt as if their hearts would burst with happiness.

Slowly the party goers tired and left the Great Hall, until finally it was only Vincent and Catherine dancing to the music in the wind. The light of a few remaining flickering candles, cast their dancing shadows on the walls.

The Final Piece

April 12, 2015

As morning approached, Vincent and Catherine walked slowly to the Park entrance. They stood together at the tunnel opening watching the first beams of sunlight in the early morning sky. And just as the moon had risen over Central Park on that terrible April night half a lifetime ago, so the sun was rising now with the promise of a beautiful Spring day.

As Vincent and Catherine turned in the dim light of the dawn to bid each other goodbye, Vincent asked, “Do you remember what day this is, Catherine?”

Catherine smiled and nodded at him knowingly and softly said, “Twenty eight years ago today.” She paused for a moment and then said, “I guess I was wrong.”

Vincent looked at her quizzically. “About what?”

She answered, “I once told you the pieces would never fit back together again. But you never gave up. You made them all fit … beautifully.”

Vincent was thoughtful before he replied, “Not all of the pieces. There is still one more.”

“There is?” she asked. “What is it?”

Vincent reached into his pocket and held up a familiar crystal on a chain. Catherine recognized it immediately. She smiled. Reaching out for it she said, “Hmm, It always manages to find its way back to me, doesn’t it?” Then, looking closer, she noticed that also on the chain was a breathtakingly beautiful antique diamond ring. Shaking her head, she said, “This isn’t mine, Vincent. I haven’t lost a ring. I only lost the crystal.”

Vincent was afraid to breathe. He was afraid to speak. Somehow he managed to say, “It is yours, Catherine … if you want it.”

She was confused. She wasn’t sure exactly what he was saying. For some reason she felt as if her heart was breaking.

Vincent took her in his arms. Catherine didn’t resist. “Oh, Catherine, I feel like I’m dying every time we say ‘goodbye’. I don’t want let you go,” he whispered roughly.

She held him even tighter and sobbed, “I don’t want you to,” she said, as tears began streaming down her face.

He kissed her on the forehead and asked, “Then don’t go, Catherine. Please stay? Come home with me, right now. Come home to me? Will you marry me, Catherine?” When she didn’t pull away he placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his and kissed her softly, longingly on the mouth. Then he softly whispered in her ear, “I love you, Catherine. Please don’t leave.”

“I thought you would never ask,” she finally said, and they both laughed as they continued to embrace.

…. and as the sun rose over Central Park, there was no trace of Catherine’s lonely footprints across the dew covered grass.

****

Many years later it was said by those who had known them that their hearts were so knit together in love that when they had reached a very old age they had died within a few short hours of each other.

“No, Grandpa,” a little girl interrupted, “it’s many, MANY years later …. When they had reached a very, VERY old age.”

“Oh yes, that’s right, Katy. Pardon me.” Grandpa laughed, cleared his throat and began again.

“Many, many years later, it was said by those who had known them that their hearts were so knit together in love, that when they had reached a very, very old age, they had died within a few short days of each other.”

“Hours … it was HOURS!” Katy said emphatically.

He laughed again. “I am so sorry. Pardon me again,” he said.

“Now start over, please … and GET IT RIGHT GRANDPA!” she insisted.

So Grandpa tried again …

“… Many, many years later, it was said by those who had known them that their hearts were so knit together in love, that when they had reached a very, very old age, they had died within a few short hours of each other.

But from time to time if you enter the Great Hall very quietly you might still catch a glimpse of their shadows dancing by candlelight to the music in the wind …

… and it was believed by all that wherever their spirits were, that they were together … in love … ever after….”

Living The Dream

In a beautiful neighborhood somewhere in suburbia …..

“Honey, are you still telling that story?” a middle aged woman asked her husband as she emerged from the kitchen onto the backyard patio with a dish towel in her hand.

Then turning to her granddaughter she asked, “Katy, will you ever get tired of hearing that old story?”

“Nope, I never will, Grandma. I LOVE that story!” Katy replied and then she thought for a moment and threw her arms around her grandmother. “Almost as much as I love you.”

Grandma laughed and kissed the top of Katy’s head. “I love you more, Katy Cup Cake.” It was hard for Grandma to believe that a person could be so happy or feel so blessed.

A dark haired “tween” girl with braces on her teeth emerged from the kitchen. She had been listening to the story through the screen door of the kitchen while she helped her grandmother wash the dishes. “I agree with Katy, Grandma. It’s the best story ever. If it was a movie, I would watch it a thousand times.”

“Why isn’t it a movie, Grandpa?” Katy asked, wide eyed, as she turned to face her grandfather.

Grandpa laughed as Grandma answered, “Because it is just a story in Grandpa’s imagination.”

“That’s not true, Grandma,” Candy protested. “It’s not just a story. It’s a TRUE story!”

Grandpa was getting hugs from both girls now, as he asked, “And what makes you so sure about that, Candy Cane?”

She thought for a minute and said, “Well …… because everyone in the story has the same names as everyone in our family.” Then she added emphatically, “….. and Mom and Dad really did adopt me from Thailand.”

Then Katy Cup Cake said very matter-of-factly, “… and Grandma still wears the necklace, Grandpa.”

“Well, there you have it, Grandma. I guess we have been found out.”

Grandma tousled Katy’s hair and said, “Come on girls, you need to run upstairs and get your things. Your mom and dad will be here any minute.”

The girls ran into the house laughing. Grandma sat down on the porch swing next to Grandpa. “It’s going to be awfully quiet around here when they go home. I’ve gotten used to their chatter these last couple of weeks.”

“Mmmmm hmmmm.” Grandpa agreed as he put his arm affectionately around Grandma and kissed her softly.

Twenty minutes later, after a flurry of activity, all the girl’s things were stowed in the car and hugs and kisses were given all around. Grandma and Grandpa stood on the porch and waved goodbye.

Listen to this on low volume while you read the rest… The First Time I Loved Forever

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pObDmzru4_A

As Grandma went to the kitchen sink to finish cleaning up, Grandpa turned on his “state of the art” sound system and slipped his arms around her from behind. “They’re playing our song,” he whispered affectionately in her ear as he gently kissed the faded scar there. She laughed softly and let him lead her out onto the patio. The citronella torch cast a shadow across the lawn of the two of them dancing.

There was the flurry of commotion as they both tripped over a piece of patio furniture and fell into the pool. There was splashing and coughing and hysterical laughing as they helped each other out of the water. The last strains of the song played in the background as they sat side by side at the edge of the pool dripping wet and chuckling.

As the quiet settled around them, Grandma stood up and reached for Grandpa’s hand and said, “Come on, let’s finish our dance.”

Grandpa laughed, “But the music’s stopped.”

“No, it hasn’t… Listen,” Grandma said. “Can’t you hear it?”

From somewhere in the neighborhood the faint strains of their favorite love song was playing on the evening breeze.

Grandpa’s eyes widened. “I think I can,” he said as he stood up and took her in his arms again.

And as they danced to the distant strains of the music, Grandpa looked down at her and smiled and softly whispered, “I love you, Catherine.”

She pulled closer to him and looked up adoringly into his face and softly said, “I love you too, Vincent.”

…. And in all the broad expanse of the neatly manicured lawn, in the tranquil light of the citronella mosquito torch, there was no sign of one shadow parting from another….. as they danced to the music in the wind….

The End …

……“I must say, Catherine, you look very attractive in that wet shirt,” Vincent whispered.

Catherine giggled and said, “Shhhh, can’t you see it says it’s ‘The End’? We are supposed to stop talking now. Just dance.”

He let out a hearty laugh as he spun her around.

“Stoppppp,” she whispered, laughing at the same time. And then she whispered, “You don’t look so bad yourself in that wet t-shirt, by the way. I find your pecks rather … titillating.”

Catherine screamed and then laughed. “Vincent!” she said in mock horror. “mmmmm… do that again.”

… and Vincent laughed.

Aneurysm information:

http://www.bafound.org/sites/default/files/A%20Patient%20Guide%20to%20Recovery.pdf

http://www.bafound.org/recovery-1

This is an awesome  blog about a woman’s personal aneurysm experience … https://jennainabudhabi.wordpress.com/category/my-aneurysm/

Another blog    http://www.forbes.com/sites/anthonynitti/2013/05/09/five-years-after-a-brain-aneurysm-fear-of-dying-cant-make-me-quit-living/

Another one   http://www.bodyandsoul.com.au/health/health+news/i+survived+a+brain+aneurysm,10851

Another one   http://www.uchospitals.edu/specialties/neurosurgery/patient-stories/wilhelm.html

Preparation for aneurysm surgery    http://www.mayfieldclinic.com/PE-Clipping.htm

Notes

[←1 ]

“Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens. This is the last paragraph of Chapter 9.

[←2 ]

Mary Elizabeth Frye (November 13, 1905 – September 15, 2004) was an American housewife and florist, best known as the author of the poem Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep, written in 1932.

[←3 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1; “Though Lovers Be Lost” Part 1.

[←4 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season Episode 20 “To Reign In Hell”

[←5 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[←6 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 14 “The Watcher”

[←7 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly” There is a scene as Vincent is walking through the tunnels mourning her loss when he hears her calling to him. He turns to look, but she isn’t there.

[←8 ]

“Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens. This is the last paragraph of Chapter 9.

[←9 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly”

[←10 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 6 “Beggars Comet”

[←11 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 8 “Chimes at Midnight”

[←12 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 8 “Chimes at Midnight”

[←13 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 9 “Invictus”

[←14 ]

William Wordsworth “Surprised By Joy”

[←15 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[←16 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 1 “Chamber Music” In this episode Vincent and Catherine listened to Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony in their tunnel under the Park.

[←17 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 3 “Ashes, Ashes” This is a version of the song Catherine said her mother used to sing to her as a child.

[←18 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 1 “ Chamber Music”

[←19 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 15 “Temptation”

[←20 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 14 “When The Bluebird Sings”

[←21 ]

Note to the reader: I desperately wanted Becka to ask Vincent, “Boxers or briefs?” at this point but I ultimately decided that the answer would be TMI (too much information). Some things are best left to the imagination…

[←22 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 18 “A Kingdom By The Sea”

[←23 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 15 “Temptation” On the first anniversary of the night they met, Vincent gave this crystal to Catherine.

[←24 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 3 “Ashes, Ashes” Catherine sang this song to Ellie as she was dying of the plague.

[←25 ]

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) “A Psalm of Life”

[←26 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 3 “Ashes, Ashes”

[←27 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 15 “Temptation”

[←28 ]

tuk-tuk ˈto͝okto͝ok/ noun (in Thailand) a three-wheeled motorized vehicle used as a taxi.

[←29 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 1 “Once Upon A Time In The City Of New York” This is a scar left by the attack that brought Vincent and Catherine together.

[←30 ]

A taxi in Thailand made by putting benches in the back of a pick up truck and a cover over the back.

[←31 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 15 “Temptation”

[←32 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 2 ‘Though Lovers Be Lost” Part 2

[←33 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly”

[←34 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 4 Dead of Winter

[←35 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1  “Though Lovers Be Lost” and Episode 2 “Walk Slowly”

[←36 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly”

[←37 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 12 “Orphans”

[←38 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost” Part 1

[←39 ]

Beauty and the Beast: Season 1 Episode 8  Song of Orpheus

[←40 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly”

[←41 ]

Seven days is a parallel reference to the amount of time that Father and his lost love Margaret had together before she died in Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 8 “Song of Orpheus”

[←42 ]

The Honeysuckle flower symbolizes the flames of love and tenderness for an old flame, a first love, a love that will never be forgotten. Perhaps this love reappears in our life, for a time or to stay. Like the wings of a butterfly, Honeysuckle sings the song of sweet love and reminds us that if you let love be free it will return to you if it is meant to be. (http://www.universeofsymbolism.com/flower-symbolism-page-two.html)

[←43 ]

Beauty and the Beast  Season 2 Episode 22 “The Rest Is Silence”

[←44 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost” Part 1

[←45 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[←46 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 9 “Invictus” There is a scene in this episode where Jacob Wells appears at the District Attorney’s Office and introduces himself to Joe Maxwell.

[←47 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 15 “The Watcher”

[←48 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 1 “Once Upon A Time”

[←49 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 20 “To Reign In Hell”

[←50 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 1 “Once Upon A Time In New York”

[←51 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[←52 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 12 “Orphans”

[←53 ]

Excerpt from poem entitled “To E.” by Sara Teasdale.

[←54 ]

i carry your heart with me, by ee cummings

[←55 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 20 “To Reign In Hell”

[←56 ]

aphasia : loss of ability to understand or express speech, caused by brain damage.

[←57 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 12 “Orphans”

[←58 ]

This is a quote from Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 4 “Dead of Winter”

[←59 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 4 “Dead of Winter”

[←60 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Pilot “Once Upon a Time”

[←61 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 1 Episode 2 “Terrible Savior”

[←62 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 part 2 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[←63 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 20 “What Rough Beast”

[←64 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 12 “Orphans”

[←65 ]

Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly”

[←66 ]

Beauty and the Beast  Season 2 Episode 7 “A Fair and Perfect Knight”

[←67 ]

Beauty and the Beast  Season 2 Episode 7 “A Fair and Perfect Knight”

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