The Greatest Gift (6 page)

Connie stopped along Main Street and walked into a medical office. She watched a woman sitting on a bench, dabbing her eyes with pink tissues. The woman fidgeted and kept reaching into her purse, fishing her cell phone out of the bag, looking at it and placing it back inside. She repeated this process three times before Connie looked elsewhere.

She then stared at an old lady wearing a black overcoat holding a young girl’s hand. The lady had one arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulder whose face was mashed into her chest.
Must be her granddaughter.

In the far corner of the room, a man paced back and forth. He was talking quietly on his phone, wearing a big smile while holding a small teddy bear.

Connie smiled.
At least someone is happy here.

She looked back at the woman with the cell phone issues. She was weeping.
I wonder what’s wrong. I’ve seen that look before. I should probably get up and go talk to her. No
,
it’s none of my bus
i
ness. Would I want some stranger bothering me while my world was falling apart? Who knows what types of issues she has.

The woman pulled two more tissues out of her purse and wiped her nose a few times. Connie sensed the woman staring back, so she lowered her head to avoid eye contact. She brushed a lone fuzzy off of her coat and looked up.
She’s still crying. Poor soul. I wonder if it’s a guy problem.

“Denise Ranakowski,” the woman behind a glass partition called out. The old lady and young girl went up to the front desk. A nurse greeted and guided them away.

Connie moved over to the row of seats where the woman was crying. She sat two seats away and pretended to look at her phone. When the woman behind the partition left, she moved to the seat next to her. “What’s wrong?” Connie asked.

The woman sniffled a few times and shook her head. “Everyone has a sob story, right?”

“I guess. What’s yours?”

“I shouldn’t say.”

Connie leaned over and whispered, “I’ve seen that look before. I had it many days and nights after my husband left me. I wish I’d had someone to talk to during that time. Look, if you don’t want to talk, I respect that. But I’m here.”

She nodded and wiped her face. “I look like crap.”

“Don’t we all?”

The woman laughed. “I guess you’re not a counselor.”

“Why would you say that?”

“A counselor wouldn’t say that.”

“What would they say?”

The woman placed the tissues back into her purse and took a deep breath. “They would say, ‘Oh, you look fabulous. Life has so much to offer you. Focus on the wonderful things in your life.’”

Connie grimaced. “I guess there are no wonderful things in your life?”

“I’m sitting here, but my stomach is out the door. No job. Not a penny to my name. My boyfriend took off once I told him about the baby. My mother thinks I’m a slut, and my father isn’t around to help.” She shrugged. “I’ve got no one.”

Connie was silent, waiting for her to continue.

“So, I guess I’ve left you speechless?”

“Not speechless. I was absorbing what you said.”

“I guess you can become my new stranger.”

“What does that mean?”

“Not a friend. Just someone who waves to you and asks how you are doing when they don’t really mean it. You see, since my friends and family heard I’m pregnant and not married, they treat me like the weather – fair.”

“I’ll admit I used to judge people.” Connie shook her head. “But I’ve learned the hard way I have no right to judge anyone.”

The woman pulled a big Hershey’s dark chocolate bar out of her purse. She unwrapped it and broke off a piece. “Would you like some?” she offered. “It’s healthy.”

“I never turn down chocolate.” Connie took the piece and put it in her mouth.

“This is my medicine, my new stranger.” She started munching on the remainder of the chocolate bar. “By the way, I’m Virginia,” she said, extending her hand.

“I’m Connie,” she said, shaking it. “I’d need more than that small chocolate bar if I had your troubles.”

“Well, Connie, since we’ve taken the next step of being best strangers forever, why are you here today? Or is that too personal?”

“I had three miscarriages a long time ago. I’m seeing if it’s possible to have a child at my age.”

“Really?”

Connie looked at her. “I’m old. But I’m not that old.”

“How old are you?”

Connie laughed. “You don’t have any filter on, do you?”

Virginia grinned. “No.”

“You’re my kind of stranger,” Connie said.

“Why would you want to burden yourself?”

Connie looked down. “My ex and I went through a very difficult period in our relationship. It’s the reason why everything went south. Maybe I’m trying to alleviate the guilt I have.”

“I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“I know. I know you’re right. I guess I’m trying to learn how to treat myself better. I guess we’re all still learning.”

“You’re taking a brave approach to this.”

Connie went to the vending machine and bought some M&Ms. She ripped the bag open and let a pile of them drop into her hand. “My turn,” she said, offering Virginia a few.

“Why, thank you,” she replied.

They chewed on the candy in silence for the next few minutes.

“I’m not so brave,” Connie finally said. “You are. To deal with people abandoning you and raising the baby with all your challenges is admirable.”

Virginia lowered her head and wiped her hands with some stray tissues. “I haven’t made up my mind whether I’m going to go through that hell.”

“Can’t you get in touch with your boyfriend’s family?”

“He’s an ex-boyfriend now. They want no part of me.”

“What about other family? Other friends? A cousin? There has to be an aunt or an uncle or grandparent who can help.”

“You would think there would be. But you’re the only one who’s listened to me about it without yelling and judging me.”

Connie sighed. “Do you want to have the baby?”

“Yes. But I want the baby to have a better life than me. I don’t want to worry about where the next meal comes from or whether I can afford to go to the doctor’s when my baby has a high fever. And we’re not even talking about paying for childcare or a babysitter if I’m able to find full-time work.”

Connie stood up. “I need some more chocolate.”

“Bring it on,” said Virginia.

Hewitt sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the pictures lining the dresser. As his eyes scanned them one by one, his daughter’s voice rose inside his head and soaked his body with sadness. He reached for the picture, pushing his wedding ring away. He watched it spin and fall to the floor.

He closed his eyes, remembering a summer day.

I’ll push you, Hailey. Let’s see how high you can go. Up you go. Wow, how high you are. Look at you, my little girl. You are reac
h
ing for the stars, baby. Then it’ll be the moon. Then another ga
l
axy.
He could hear Hailey laugh. It softened the edge in his heart.

“Look at me, Daddy. Look at me. I’m flying like a bird in the sky.”

“I can see that. You’re an eagle gliding across the Grand Canyon.”

Hailey smiled from ear to ear.

He took a deep breath and stood. He picked up another picture of Hailey, her face covered in chocolate. Hewitt pressed the picture against his chest. “I am doing this for you. I will not fail.”

He reached down and removed his socks. Straightening up, he lifted his arms pretending to shoot a foul shot. “Bingo,” he whispered as he tossed it into a laundry basket at the far end of the room. “I’ve still got it,” he said.

Hewitt walked past a picture of them in Disney World. “I will break that pastor, no matter how long it takes, until he tells me the truth. I don’t care if God sends me to hell.”

He turned to the walls behind him. There were four detailed pictures of the Lady by the Bay Church interior with doors, windows and offices marked. Profile pictures of Michael and Elizabeth Stewart were hung beside it. Below Michael’s face, Hewitt had written several pointed thoughts about his personality. Under Elizabeth’s photo several friend’s names and phone numbers were listed.

He struggled to think clearly, shaking his head several times as if that might remove the sorrow and anger and release him from his emotional stranglehold.
I’ve donated my marriage to this job
,
but I don’t care.

Hewitt stayed silent, staring at his wedding day photo.
No. I’ve dedicated my life to helping families find their sons and daug
h
ters. You were wrong, Veronica. Dead wrong.

He shook his head.
I know I can’t replace her, but every time I see a young girl, I see Hailey’s face. Every teenager I see, I see what she would have been. She should have had birthday parties with her friends. She should have been able to graduate from high school and go to college. I should have been able to walk her down the aisle at her wedding. We were robbed. She was robbed.

Hewitt stared at himself in the mirror above the dresser.
What good am I if I couldn’t protect my own child?

Go now
, Michael implored himself. He raced out of the cave, his pouch dangling on his side as he bounced uphill and down. He passed a field filled with sheep and scattered the last group while heading toward a cluster of similar-looking homes. He tightened the pouch around his waist and fingered a sharpened wooden weapon inside his pocket.

He pulled the top part of his robe over his head like a hoodie to conceal his identity.
I hope Elizabeth doesn’t give Leah a stroke or heart attack. Leah has no idea Elizabeth has risen from the dead. That will either scare her or kill her. There’s no good ending to this.

His thoughts pushed his legs to move with more urgency. He couldn’t decipher how long he ran in sheer panic so he stopped.
Calm down. I won’t get there any faster by falling apart. Maybe Elizabeth had a reason why she wanted to visit Leah.
Michael shook his head.
No. The reasons she gave didn’t make sense. There’s something terribly wrong with her.
He bent down to catch his breath for a brief moment. When he straightened up, he noticed Leah’s town in the distance.

Initially he wanted to complete the journey by finding the apostle, hiding the relic and getting Elizabeth back to Northport. That all changed when she left. Selfish as it seemed, he wanted no part of the journey asked of him.

Lord, please help us get home. My daughter’s been through so much. I want to see her graduate from high school. I want to take pictures of her on Prom Day. See her off to college. Hold my gran
d
children. I’ve had enough of this running around in the First Ce
n
tury.

He sprinted, pushing himself so hard he staggered to the front of the courtyard. He took a quick, desperate sip of water from the well. He threw the bucket back down and ran inside Leah’s house.

Shattered pieces of clay littered the kitchen floor, and a wooden table lay broken against the wall. A smoldering fire clung to its last spark in the stove.

He raced from room to room, his weapon drawn at shoulder level. He climbed to the second floor, stepping on the dinner mats and crushing a plate.

Furious, he yelled out as if his daughter were standing in front of him. “You make me so crazy, Elizabeth. This time you’ve really done it. This time we both may not get out alive. Are you happy about that? How many times must I battle these Romans? How many?”

He scurried to the room at the far end of the second floor, shouting out the window
.
“Lord,” he screamed. “Where are you? I’m trying to help you. Why aren’t you helping me?”

He slid down the wall, his head pressed against the lower part of the window. “I want to go home, Lord. I want to take my daughter home too. Now. Right now. No more delays. No more instructions. No more chasing people. Is that too much to ask? I’ve done everything you’ve asked. Is this how my faith is rewarded?”

He took a deep breath, waiting for an answer. He heard absolute silence. He stood, leaned out the window and saw the vacant courtyard. He looked out to the horizon and turned his head to the right and left. He saw nothing.

Where are they, Lord? Tell me. Point me in the right direction
.
I’m a desperate man. I need your help right now.
He climbed the last step to the roof, hand clenched on his weapon and looked around.

Empty.

He circled around the steep and short elevated parts.
What’s this?
He leaned down and picked up a shoe he had made not long ago.
Elizabeth. This was the one I gave her
. There was blood on it.

He bent over and squeezed his head with both hands. “No!” He raged around the roof and looked skyward, shouting, “Elizabeth!”

Michael fell to his knees but then got up immediately. He grabbed his chest and threw up. He gagged and staggered around the roof a few more times before tucking the shoe inside his pocket.

He raced down the stairs, leaped and fell, never touching the last three rungs. He cursed under his breath and got up, swatting a piece of broken wood from the table. He looked around for other weapons and found a spear buried under a bedroll. He searched in a small box and grabbed several pieces of silver.

Michael heard two men approaching the house, sounding like they were engaged in an argument. He remained quiet and listened, taking a quick peek out the window.

Michael recognized Leah’s husband from when he observed them at Elizabeth’s gravesite.
He looks upset. Oh, I hope it’s not bad. He has to know where Leah and Elizabeth went.
We can find them together.

He heaved a deep sigh, got control of his emotions and ran outside, yelling to the two men. “Please help me.” He put his hand out in a gesture of friendship. “My daughter is in trouble.”

Leah’s husband glared at him. “Who are you? What are you doing in my home?”

“I have come looking for my daughter,” Michael said.

“Are you the man from the burial site Leah has spoken about?”

“I am.”

“Go on your way.”

Michael shook his head. “I cannot leave until I find out what happened to my daughter. Her name is Elizabeth. She has hair like mine,” he said, pointing to his head. “The same color eyes.”

“Elizabeth? The woman Leah and I visited at the burial site?”

Michael thought fast on how to spin this without having this man think he was insane. “No. A different daughter. I renamed her Elizabeth after my first daughter died.”

“I cannot help you.” Leah’s husband walked past him.

“Something terrible has happened,” said Michael, following him.

“It was the Romans,” Leah’s husband said, turning around. His face was pale. “The soldiers have come for us.”

“What soldiers?”

“The ones looking to avenge us for killing another one some sunsets ago.”

“My God, Aharon,” his friend yelled. “Is this so?”

Aharon jolted the man with a thrust to his shoulder. “Stay silent. Do you know how many hands around here would love to fetch a reward? Go home. Protect yourself.”

The man ran out of the house as Michael took a few steps toward Aharon. “It was Marcus. Right?” he asked.

Aharon nodded.

“Where would they take Leah and Elizabeth?”

Aharon went to the bedroom and came back with a spear. “The fortress.”

“The one by the wall?”

“Near the big temple,” Aharon said.

Michael smothered a loud sigh of intense fear. “There have to be hundreds of soldiers there.”

“Many,” said Aharon with a frown as he walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“To the fortress to get my Leah back. She was not responsible for killing that soldier. I am. I will give myself up to save her life.”

Michael ran after him and grabbed his arm. “No. There has to be a better way. We can think of a plan, find a way that can save everyone.”

Aharon turned toward Michael and knocked him to the ground. “Get your hand off me or my sword will take it.”

Michael backed away on his knees.

“There are many Romans with better weapons than we have,” said Aharon. “How are two people going to take on the most powerful army?”

Michael stood and thought about what Aharon had said for a few moments. “I do not have the answer for that question. I do know two of us are better than one.”

Aharon walked several paces out of the courtyard. “Well, I know I have to go there and defend my Leah. I am prepared to give up my life. You should do the same for your daughter.”

“I cannot disagree with you, my friend.”

Aharon took several steps back to him, facing Michael nose-to-nose, and glared. “You are no friend of mine. We can help each other. Whatever happens, I will go my way with Leah or not. You will go your way with your daughter or not. Do you understand?”

“I do. But you understand as well. I will save and protect my daughter at all costs. We can either help each other or not. That is your choice. Are we clear?”

Aharon didn’t respond and kept walking, picking up the pace with each step. Michael stayed behind a good distance for fear of antagonizing him more.
I am going to need him to help me get Elizabeth out safely.
His thoughts percolated, ideas swarmed in his mind. Yet, none seemed reasonable and rational against the odds he faced.

I’ll make this journey alone if I have to.

Michael looked skyward, fighting off his peaceful instincts. “I don’t give a damn about any commandment. I’ll kill any man who lays a hand on my daughter.”