The Greatest Gift (18 page)

Connie’s mind danced around emotionally with her favorite memories of Elizabeth. It was a perfect evening to allow herself a break from the struggles of life. The wind off the bay was light, yet the frigid air encouraged her to tighten a bright red scarf over her face. Fluffy snowflakes fluttered from above, touching and melting on her nose. She watched the boats in the dock rock back and forth.  

She reflected back to the summers when she’d take a young Elizabeth out for long walks. They would always stop in this particular spot, right at the edge of the pier.

“Someday, Aunt Connie, Daddy is going to get us a boat,” Elizabeth would say. “He made a promise to me. We don’t break our promises, right?”

“That’s true, Elizabeth. We try not to.”

Connie bent down, put her arm around her and whispered with a big smile. “We’ll spend our Saturday afternoons out there with the others.” She would point to the perimeter of the Northport shoreline. “And we’ll have peace from this ratrace.”

Elizabeth would always smile when Connie would say rat race. “Aunt Connie, what is the rat race?” she’d ask
.

“It’s where people work themselves into an anxiety attack and forget how to live. Never forget that
,
Elizabeth. Don’t ever forget how to live.”

Connie stepped away from the pier and stood in front of the town’s tall Christmas tree. Its colored lights illuminated the area with holiday cheer, its ornaments tied to the branches, swaying in the breeze. She straightened out one ornament and touched the pines. She breathed deeply, relishing the sweet smell.

Now, this is Christmas.
She noticed the bright, white lights in the distance hanging over the gazebo. Connie walked toward it in small steps, letting the glow soothe her anxiety. She stopped near the stairwell as the snow formed a coating on top of the roof. To her right, a mother and daughter were laughing as they went up and down together on a swing in the nearby playground.
This is like a Hallmark Christmas card.

Connie closed her eyes and listened to the breeze. She wiped a rogue snowflake off her nose and opened her eyes. She watched the mother and daughter walk away, hand in hand, skipping down the concrete path toward Main Street. Connie climbed the five steps of the gazebo and stood in the middle.

She looked around before speaking. “I only ask this for Christmas, God,” she said out loud. “I pray for the safety of my brother and niece.” She touched what she thought was a flake under her eye.

“Are you out there, God? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, it makes me wonder why would you hear me now and not in another place or time?” She wiped her eyes. “See what you’re doing to me, Mike? You’ve got me all weepy now. I’m a mess. I’m a wreck and sick to my stomach. I’m ready to fall apart.”

She lowered her voice and took her scarf off, wiping more tears with it. “Mike, hear me if you can. Come home. Come home, now,” she said.

“I miss you,” she yelled. “I miss you,” she said again as her voice fell. “I miss you,” she whispered. Connie sat down on the steps and wept. The wind swirled, and the snow fluttered up and down around her. She closed her eyes once more for a few minutes until she heard someone come up from behind.

“Why are you out here?”

Where did he come from?
“Huh? Oh. I can ask you the same thing. What’s going on?” She took a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her face. “What are you looking at?”

“Someone falling apart.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hewitt asked. “You’re crying.”

“I just needed a good cry.”

He sat beside her. “I can’t blame you. I do know you love your brother. And I don’t believe you know where he is.”

She nodded. “Well, is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes.”

She wiped some stray tears off her chin.

“The FBI is doing everything they can,” he said. “I spoke to my boss. I’ll find them. It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Is that a short time to find missing people?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve had every picture I’ve found circulated to all the field offices. They’ve looked through phone records and gone through their computers. They’re looking everywhere. I think it may be time to go on TV myself and make a plea. What about you? Would you do this?”

“I don’t look at the TV anymore,” she said. “All they do is show their pictures. It’s heartbreaking.”

“Would you make a plea for me?” Hewitt asked. “To help me.” He shook his head. “No, I said that wrong. To help you. To help your brother and niece.”

“What would I say?”

“You would say what’s in your heart. How you want anyone who can help find your niece and brother to come forth. We’d post a number for anonymity too.”

Connie hesitated.

“I know it hurts to see them on TV, but they have to show their pictures,” Hewitt said. “It could lead to someone in this country seeing them somewhere.”

She pulled away and shook her head.

“You don’t agree?”

“Oh, I agree that what you said is right. They do need to show their pictures. I just don’t think he’s around where anyone can find him. Showing their pictures is a waste of time.”

He placed his hand on hers. “Look, I’ve checked every angle, interviewed every person, scoured every corner of that church. A man just doesn’t disappear like that without help from one or more people. Maybe even from a whole community.”

Connie didn’t respond.

“Be honest with me,” Hewitt said. “Can you?”

“Of course.”

“Did he leave the country?”

She threw her hands up in the air. “How do I know? You just said you believed I didn’t know. Which is it? Would you feel better if he did leave the country?”

“I’m checking on every angle.”

“I don’t know. It’s all so crazy.”

“What’s crazy? He either left the country or not.”

She shook her head. “It’s not like that. I don’t know what to believe anymore. Sometimes I think I’m going insane trying to figure out what happened to both of them.”

“Where could they have gone then? Did he leave a number behind for you? Something that I can chase right now. I don’t have much time left here.”

She stood and looked up at the sky, letting the flakes tumble onto her face. “I have no idea how to get in touch with him.”

He got up. “Is there something you haven’t told me about your brother and Elizabeth? Their relationship? Money issues? Problems they might have had in the past?”

“I’ve told you what I can.”

“What you can? So there is something you haven’t told me?”

“If I told you what I thought, you would think I’ve lost it. I’m not a religious freak. All I’ve been looking for is a bit of stability in my life. And sanity. Thinking this way hasn’t given me any of this.”

Hewitt faced her. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

She gave him a hug, surprising him. He pulled back at first, noticing her sadness. They looked at each other for a few moments. Connie looked over at the gazebo. “It’s such a pretty town,” she said. “I remember when my ex and I used to dance over there.” She pointed.

Hewitt stayed quiet for a few moments. He watched her walk away, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “Sometimes we need a break,” he called out. He jogged to catch up to her. He put his arm out, gesturing to the gazebo.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“I’m asking for your friendship,” he said.

“Why yes,” she said with a smile.

Hewitt walked her up the stairs as the snow came down more heavily. She leaned her head into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. They swayed back and forth for several minutes until she stopped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What song are we dancing to?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me. I need one in my mind.”

“What song would you like to dance to?”

“Something hopeful.”

“Would you like me to sing it?”

“Hmmm. I’m not so sure how to answer that.”

Hewitt smiled. “You just did.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are your feelings hurt?”

“A little.”

“Go ahead. Sing it.”

“Oh, oh, oh, oh … It must have been cold there in my shadow … ”

Connie stood on her toes and looked at Hewitt. “Your voice is beautiful.”

“Tonight’s the night where I let go of my worries, it’s under this evening sky, where I find my heart can heal, helping me fall where the snow is high…”

“You’re making that up,” Connie said, laughing. “I’ve never heard that song.”

“Yeah, it’s made up. But it’s pretty good, don’t you think?”

He led her around the gazebo, and she twirled as Hewitt fumbled with some final lyrics.

Michael joined Elizabeth at the fire. She was munching on charred fish. He nudged her shoulder and grinned. “I never thought I’d see my teenage daughter eating this.”

Elizabeth kept chewing, and after the last bit of fish was swallowed, she wiped her hands on her shirt. “You made your adjustments, right?”

“Yes. I had to make several while living in Jerusalem.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Why?”

She dropped her hands to her sides and wiped again. “When you were sick and I saw you struggling to breathe, it hit me how you must have felt when you found out about me.”

“It was a gift,” Michael said. He paused. “One of the greatest I’ve ever received.”

“To have your heart crushed is a gift? I don’t get it.”

“Yes, I had that crushing feeling of grief and sadness. I know how it felt, like losing your mom. There’s something so unbearable about losing your child. I hope you never have to go through it. But you’re here. I will never take another moment we have together for granted. I’ll even relish our arguments.”

Elizabeth kicked at a stray piece of fish.

He grasped her arm. “We’re here. Now. Today. We have this moment. Enjoy it.”

A Roman soldier came over and handed Michael a piece of fish and cup of water. “Thank you,” he said, giving Elizabeth a surprised look.

Michael took a bite.

“They’re not all like Marcus,” Elizabeth said.

“I hope not. If you recall your history in school, the Romans weren’t choirboys. They were ruthless oppressors, taking what they wanted when they wanted. You do remember that?”

“I do. However, they also built cities, aqueducts, and buildings; some of them were really beautiful places. I didn’t think it was possible during this time.”

“It was. Jesus didn’t live during the Stone Age. Men could communicate in many different ways. The Romans were very efficient in many areas but so was Hitler, and we know what a maniac he was. It doesn’t change history.”

“Aren’t we somehow changing history?” Elizabeth asked.

“I hope not. I’m sure Paul would let me know.”

He took a deep breath and sipped his water. “History. What is it about this time that we are needed here?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” said Elizabeth, pressing down the piece of fish. She squished it into the dirt. “For the ants.”

Michael ate the fish and offered his water to Elizabeth.

She declined. “Paul was asking for you.”

He swallowed and took the last sip of water. “When? You should have told me.”

“You were still sick. The captain told me not to bother you. He wanted you to sleep, recover. There were guards around you. The captain said he needed healthy men for the next journey.”

“Oh, great.” He stood and watched Julius walk past him. “What is that Julius has in his hands?” he asked, looking down at Elizabeth.

She got up and stared. “I have no idea.”

“Stay here,” he said, taking a few steps in the direction of a shed across from the fire. He followed Julius and knocked on the outside of his shelter.

Julius faced him. “Paul is in the shed at the far end of the camp. He has requested your presence when you have recovered. Do you feel up to it?”

“I do,” Michael said.

“Good. He will be pleased,” said Julius, turning away and placing an object on a pile. They all looked similar in structure.

“What are those?” asked Michael.

“These?” asked Julius, pointing to the pile.

“Yes. I have never seen them.”

“You are not from a place that has these?” Julius pulled a short, metal rod out. One end featured a slight bend in it. “This piece goes with this item,” said Julius, picking up another object. “I am recording our journey for the Roman Empire.”

Michael approached him. “Is this what men used during these times?”

“Times?”

“I am sorry. Do you mind?” Michael put out his hands.

Julius nodded and handed him the metal tool and tablet.

“Is this wax?” he asked as he touched it.

“It is. I am surprised,” Julius said.

“Why?”

“I sensed you were a man of this world. A man who could read. A man who could write. Yet you have no knowledge of the tools used to do so.”

“Where I come from, we are still learning.”

Julius took the objects. “It gives me joy you have discovered them with me.”

Michael watched him pack the items away. He approached him as he placed the last one in the wooden cart. “Would you have one for me to use?”

Julius frowned. “My friend, these tools cost silver, a handful of silver.”

“I do not have much.” Michael dug into his pockets, still moist from the sea travel, and pulled out two silver coins. “I lost much of it during the storm.”

“I cannot let such important materials for my recording go for a petty price.”

“It is all I have.”

Julius moved his hand through his gray hair. He looked at Michael and shook his head.

“Wait. Let me find some silver,” Michael said. He left the shed and rushed to Paul.

“My friend, come in. I hope you are healed,” Paul said when he saw him.

Michael got on his knees. “I owe you my life.”

Paul smiled. “I did what my rabbi asked. I am with great joy that you are feeling better.”

“All to you,” Michael said.

“All to my rabbi,” Paul responded. “How can I help you?”

“Do you have any more silver? It can help us.”

“I do not travel with much, so I do not have enough to give away. I gave you what I had back in Caesarea.”

“Of course,” Michael said and walked back to the shed.

Elizabeth was asleep on the blanket. He stood at the opening, thinking, watching birds sprint around in the sky at a frantic pace. The skies darkened, and the clouds covered the little light left. Workers and soldiers eating and resting near the fire scattered quickly to their sheds for shelter. The rain began to drop from the sky, easing the humidity. The water tumbled off the small roof and onto his head. He wiped the moisture from his hair and leaned against a stack of carts filled with supplies.

His mind drifted to thoughts of Northport. Strangely, the struggles he faced there seemed to be wonderful memories now. The times he dug for change to buy a slice of pizza – anguishing as it was back then – the memory forced a smile on his face. The moment when Elizabeth told him she had walked home instead of waiting for a bus that was late gave him a sense of pride in how independent she was. He turned around and watched her sleep, relishing the calmness in her breathing. Life seemed normal.

He took a happy, deep breath. “Beautiful. Peaceful. Why can’t it be like this all the time?” He smiled and took one more peek at her.
Sleep. We have a long trip ahead. We’ll make it back. I promise that.

Michael faced the opening again and jumped back. A shadow covered the opening. “My God,” he said. “Where did you come from? How did you get here? Did you travel through the church too?”

“I did. I am needed here now.”

“Here now? It’s a long way from Northport, Dennis.”

“I know. My work there is done.”

“Done? Are you not going back?”

“I am not.”

Dennis approached him and put several pieces of silver in his hand. “You will need this. You have your instructions. Do it well.”

“What about you? Why are you not able to come back with us?”

“I have my instructions too.”

“You knew all along about the church?”

“Only when I read the black book you gave me. There was a reason why I was driving the truck that night. There was a reason why I became a pastor there. There was a reason why you found the book and gave it to me, Michael.”

“I guess this is why I have been asked to take these journeys.”

Dennis stepped back. “The answer is before you. Travel with an open heart. Protect your daughter. There is another ship to come by this island. Not all will have friendly faces.”

Dennis walked out of the shed and toward the shoreline.

“Where are you going now?” Michael called after him.

“I am taking my next journey.”

“Please don’t go. I have no friends back home.”

Dennis stopped, turned around and extended his hand. “I have not left you.”

Michael shook his hand. “Will I ever see you again?”

“There will be a time when we do see each other.”

“When?”

“When it is needed.”

He released his grip and headed to the water.

“Where are you going? There are no boats out there. What the – ?”

Dennis walked into a wave and disappeared.

Michael sprinted into the sea, tumbling into the water. He swam several yards and submerged. He flailed and kicked a few feet and stopped. Gasping for air, he surfaced. “Where did you go, Dennis?”

He looked behind him and saw the smoke from the fire rising. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and glanced around, but he was all alone in the waves.