by David Fulmer
“No…”
Joe said, “Come on. I’d like to hear.”
Nicole waved the two of them off with a shy hand and fixed her gaze on something above the rooftops. Joe had just about given up when she began, starting low then rolling up to fill the van with a sweet contralto.
Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices
O night divine, O night when Christ was born
Oh night divine, O night, O night divine…
By the fourth note, Joe had lifted his foot from the gas and turned to gape in wonder over the sounds from her slender throat. The tones were honeyed and while there was something anguished about the way the song poured out of her, there was also no denying that it was lifted on hope. When the last echo died, she noticed the astonishment on his face and said, “I sang in the choir back home.”
She turned away and began to croon the melody. Joe listened, feeling an ache in his chest. Miles away, his house sat warm and quiet, with the lights from the tree filling the front window. The kids would be in their beds by now, though he knew Christian would have a hard time settling down.
He wondered if they had asked their mother why he wasn’t home and imagined Mariel trying to put on a front. She’d have to lie, of course. Could she get away with it? The kids were sharp, his daughter especially. She’d know something was wrong and would worry. He went back to cursing his wife for the betrayal, the act itself and the stupidity of letting herself get caught. On Christmas Eve, no less. She was—
“Hey.”
The final hummed note had faded and they were idling at an intersection. Joe looked at Nicole and then peered into the mirror. Mother and child were regarding him with matching vexed expressions. Something had gone terribly wrong in their lives, too. Indeed, compared to what had befallen them, his drama seemed a frivolous thing. They had been tossed from a rude home onto a cold street with nowhere to go. He pondered the odd set of turns that had brought them together on this night, amidst the first Christmas Eve snowfall in seven years.
“Something wrong with the van?” Nicole said.
He returned to the moment. “No, it’s okay. I just…” They rolled forward. “It’s down the next street.”
Reverend Callum opened the door. His liquid eyes were cool but he said nothing as Nicole, Malikah, and Joe filed inside.
Joe made the stuttering introductions. No seemed to know what to do next and before it got strange, he said, “Reverend, do you have anything in your office that a seven-year-old girl might enjoy?”
The cheap ploy worked. The reverend pulled his gaze off Joe and pursing his lips and furrowing his forehead in a clownish arc, he fixed wide eyes on Malikah.
“I don’t guess you mean cookies and milk,” he said. “Naw. You don’t like cookies, do you?” Malikah nodded gravely. “You do? Well, all right, then. Come on this way.”
He ushered the three of them into his office. The radio gurgled sweetly as he went about opening a box of Oreos and producing a carton of milk from the refrigerator. Joe drew a cup of coffee from the pot on the side table for Nicole.
He dropped his voice to say, “Can you wait in the chapel while we talk?”
Nicole said, “Malikah, come with mama.” They walked out of the office and Joe closed the door behind them.
Reverend Callum was abrupt. “What’s this about? I got a phone call from Mrs. Walters. She wasn’t happy. You abused her hospitality. Why’d you do that?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t -” Joe said. “I couldn’t -”
“Couldn’t what?”
“I didn’t want to leave them in that place. Not tonight.”
“It’s a shelter,” the reverend said. “What it’s there for.”
“I know. I just…” He caught a breath and told him about the house on Grant Street, the boyfriend and her mother, and the dreary space at the church, the nasty woman on the next cot.
Reverend Callum listened, then shook his head. “Should have left them there anyway,” he said. “Now what are you going to do? They can’t stay here.”
“I know, I know,” Joe said. “I’ll find them a hotel, I guess.”
“And then what?”
“Then what?”
The reverend’s face darkened. “You one of these damn do-gooders, sir?” His rumbling tone turned harsh. “You stick yourself in someone else’s business and then get all proud ‘cause you did them some little favor? So you can feel good at Christmas time? ‘Course, the rest of the year, you ain’t nowhere to be found. You one of them?”
Joe felt his face burning. “No, I - nothing like that.”
Callum regarded him with a faint contempt. “You think you were just going to dump them on me, now that you played the hero? Why you want to do something like this?” He stretched his arm and pointed a heavy finger in the direction of the chapel. “That’s a child out there.”
“I’m going to deal with it,” Joe said.
Reverend Callum tilted his head, as solemn as a judge. “That’s right, you are,” he said. “Cause you ain’t got a choice now. Not if you’re any kind of a man.”
The arm came down. Joe dropped his head, mortified at his foolishness. After a moment, Reverend Callum’s gaze calmed, along with his tone. “Ain’t like I ain’t seen it before, son. Seen people do like this, I mean.”
“Yes, sir, I understand.” Joe felt the guilt settling on him. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are,” the reverend said.
“I wanted to…”
“To what?”
“Get my mind off what happened. Before, I mean.”
Now the reverend treated him to an inquisitive look. “And what did happen?”
“Something at home. With my wife.” Joe hoped that he wouldn’t have to explain.
“Well, whatever it was, I’m sorry,” the reverend said. “But it don’t matter. What matters is that woman and her baby.”
Joe said, “I’ll take care of them. I will.” The reverend’s face remained passive. “I’m going to go talk to her. We’ll figure something out.”
He had only gone a few steps when Reverend Callum said, “Son?” Joe stopped. “You can dump them on me if you need to. Just don’t make it worse.”
“I won’t,” Joe said. “And I won’t.”
When he opened the door to the chapel, what he saw caught and held him there. Nicole was sitting in the front pew, holding a sleeping Malikah across her lap. The light was low and had a golden cast that seemed to envelop them. It was a sweet picture. He thought the mother was also asleep until he stepped closer and she raised her head. He sat down next to her and they both watched Malikah doze. The child’s face was angelic.
“I remember my kids when they were that age,” he said.
“How old are they now?” Nicole said.
“Nine and ten.”
“Where they at?”
“At home with their mom.” He paused, pushing aside the images that seeped into his mind.
“I want you to know I’m going to help you out here. Find a place for you to stay, I mean.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because… because I’m the one who came and got you. And I took you out of the shelter. So I think I should. I want to.”
Nicole didn’t speak, studying him closely, and he figured she was waiting for the catch.
He said, “I’m guessing you can’t go back to your house.”
“Won’t,” she said, and swallowed. “Don’t want to.”
Joe turned slightly to face her. “What were you doing with him?”
She took a long moment before saying, “I met him in rehab. I had a drug problem. Me and him both did. He was funny. Always made me laugh. So after we got out, I saw him some more.” She paused. “I lost our apartment and so we moved into the house with him and his mama. It would have been fine. If it wasn’t for her. And his dope.” She sighed. “Anyway, we ain’t goin’ back. You heard that old bitch.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t ever stand up to her. But
he cared for Malikah. He sure did. When he could.”
They were quiet for a few moments. Joe said, “So do you still…?”
“Have the drug problem? I’ll always have that. I’m an addict.” She raised her chin. “But I’m clean eleven months now. And I’m staying that way.” She gazed down at her sleeping child again. “I have to.”
She fixed him with a speculative eye and said, “What about you? What are you doing out tonight? Y’all Jewish?”
“We’re not anything,” Joe said. “I, uh… she…” He paused to collect himself. “Something really amazing happened to me in the last couple weeks,” he said.” I got some money I wasn’t expecting. Not a lot, but not a little, either. And so I wanted to surprise them with it. My wife and the kids. For Christmas. For once.”
“What’s her name?”
“Mariel.” It sounded odd to his ear, as if he was talking about a stranger. “Anyway, I went out and bought presents for the kids and I found something that she wanted a long time ago. Back when we were first married.”
“What kind of something?”
He patted his pockets until he located the zebrawood box, then opened it and drew out the jewel on its thin chain. “It’s called an Epiphany Star.”
Nicole studied the multi-colored gems. “It’s pretty. Looks old.”
“Itis.”
“Cost you a lot, huh?”
“It wasn’t—” He paused. She was regarding him wisely. “Okay, so you bought it for her,” she said.
“And I carried it home. With the bank statement, showing the money we had now. I was going to make this big surprise.” He entertained the strange notion that Nicole knew what was coming. “And when I got to the house, I found her with another man.”
Nicole stopped and stared. “Uh-oh. What other man?”
“Our next-door neighbor.”
“Were they… “
“Oh, yes,” Joe said. “In your bed?”
“In the dining room.”
“The dining room?
Joe nodded. “Over the table.” He chased the image with a shake of his head. “Well, damn. What’d you do?”
“I left. Wandered half the night. Ran into Reverend Callum. And ended up here.”
Malikah sighed in her sleep. Nicole smiled down at her in a kindly absent way. “That’s some story,” she said. “Christmas Eve, too.” She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “So what are you gonna do now?”
Joe slumped against the back of the pew. “I have no idea.”
“Your kids gonna be waiting for you.”
He said, “Yeah. I know.”
Nicole’s voice dropped another notch. “I missed last Christmas with her, ‘cause I was so sick,” she said. “I ain’t ever going to let that happen again.” She raised her eyes from her sleeping child to gaze at him. “You shouldn’t ever do that. Not if you can help it.”
He left them in the chapel and stepped into the office. Reverend Callum had relaxed in his old chair, his eyes closed and hands folded across his middle, at peace as he listened to the music from the radio.
Joe said, “Reverend?”
“I’m sorry I went to barking like that,” the reverend murmured. “I don’t know you. You’re a good man, far as I can tell.”
“Not good enough,” Joe said.
“Well, who can’t say that?” Callum opened his eyes and tilted his head to the chapel. “What about those two now?”
Joe said, “I’m going to take them home with me. To my house.”
“That be all right with your family?”
“It’ll be fine. They’ll be welcome.” The reverend looked dubious, but didn’t comment further. Joe said, “I’m not trying to be noble, sir. Or make a point or anything.”
Reverend Callum nodded. “Good. Nobody needs that.” He pushed the telephone across the desk. “I guess you want to call a cab, then.”
Joe said, “I was hoping we could take the van.”
The reverend frowned. “Where’d you say you lived? By the college? That’s a long drive up and back. It’s late. And I’m tired.”
Joe said, “Yes, sir, but I’m hoping you’ll come, too. For Christmas morning. We’ll have breakfast.” He felt a catch in his throat. “It’s a family tradition.”
The music played softly from the radio. Reverend Callum seemed to be looking past Joe and at something in the distance. He said, “That’s kind of you, but…”
“You have someplace to be?” The reverend shook his head. “Then I’d consider it a favor. And an honor.”
Reverend Callum laughed quietly. “You show up with three strangers, three black strangers, and your wife’s going to hit the roof. It’s what, now, three in the morning?”
“She’ll be fine. The kids, too.” He tamped down the throb in his chest and found himself saying please again, and then, “I’d be grateful.”
“It’s a kind invitation,” the reverend said.
Joe said, “So we can go now?”
It was time for the last act and Joe was ready to get on with it. He spent a minute sharing the plan with Nicole as Malikah dozed in her lap. When he finished, she treated him to a searching look.
“You sure it’s all right?” she said.
“It’s fine. The reverend’s coming along.”
She said, “I figured he would be.”
Joe stepped out the door onto the snow-crusted sidewalk. Behind him, Malikah’s voice was like a sleepy bell as she asked where they were going now. He was turning to answer her when he heard a loud crack followed by another and felt a blow and then a knifing pain in his left bicep. As he clutched his elbow, he heard the reverend shout something and Nicole shriek all raw and angry.
“What?” he said over the noise in his ears. “What’s wrong?” Nicole was yelling, “Goddamn you, Terry! Goddamn you!”
Now he felt a searing heat in his arm and he groped to find the sleeve of his coat soaked wet. In the next second, Reverend Callum whipped around him in a dark blur as he went to his knees on the cold concrete.
The first cruiser came wailing from Northampton Street with wild lights flashing. Joe, slouching against the storefront, shoved aside the impossible notion that he had been shot to consider that without the whooping of the sirens, the red and white and blue lights would be full of festive life.
Nicole had pulled his coat off one arm. She groaned when she saw his sweater wet with blood. She whipped off her scarf and wrapped it around the arm as far up as she could go and he grunted at the pain. But the bleeding stopped and the sharp ache settled into a throb.
In a breathless rush, she told him that Terry had fired twice. One bullet hit Joe’s arm. The second had nicked Reverend Callum’s right hand. Joe saw the reverend standing in the middle of the sidewalk with his foot planted on Terry’s hollow chest and his hands clasped together as if in violent prayer. Nicole had ministered to him, too, wrapping a towel from the church bathroom around a wound to his palm.
“Where did he come from?” Joe asked her.
“He must have followed us from the house. Saw the van and…” Her voice trembled. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he did this.”
Watching her face, Joe’s fog lifted a bit. “What about Malikah?”
“She’s okay. She’s inside.”
“You left her alone with the cookies?” he said and saw sudden tears spring to Nicole’s eyes.
The sirens blared louder and in the next seconds, the first patrol car slid to the curb. Two officers leaped out, their weapons drawn and pointed upward. Stalking around the car to the sidewalk, they conducted an instant survey of the scene. One of them, a short black man with a lean build, seemed to know the reverend and asked him to stand away. In a flurry of rough motion, he and his partner cuffed Terry and jerked him to his feet. The second cop, white and as burly as a wrestler, hustled the suspect to the cruiser and bent him over the hood.
The black cop approached Joe, kneeled down, peered at his bloody sleeve, and stared into his face.
“Thomas” was spelled out on the silver tag over his breast pocket.
He said, “Sir, are you all right?” Joe nodded. “The EMTs are on the way. What’s your name?”
“Joe Kelly. Joseph.”
“Do you have some ID, sir?”
Joe said, “Pocket.”
Nicole fished until she found his wallet. She handed the policeman Joe’s license and he flicked his minimag over it. “What happened here?” he said. “I didn’t see,” Joe said. The cop turned to Nicole. “Ma’am?”
She told him in a shaking voice how Joe had gone out the door ahead of her. She heard the two shots. The reverend shouted something and Joe folded to his knees. She saw Terry standing thirty feet down the walk with the pistol in his hand. She was dragging Malikah out of the way when Reverend Callum charged past her, knocked the weapon out of Terry’s hand, and smacked him to the sidewalk.
Joe was awed. “He did that?”
She nodded. “Knocked him right down. Then stood on him.”
Officer Thomas tilted his head to the cruiser and said, “And this individual. Mister…”
“Neal,” Nicole said.
“Neal. He followed you here?”
“He lives down on Grant Street,” she said. “That’s where he came from.” The cop’s eyes shifted back to Joe. “How do you know him, sir?”
Joe said, “I don’t. Didn’t. He put her and the kid out of the house. I was helping the reverend tonight and went to collect them.”
“You were helping the reverend how?” Thomas said. “I answered the phone for him.”
The officer was about to ask another question when the clashing lights and sirens of a second and a third cruiser and a boxy ambulance cut him off. He told Joe he’d wait for the EMTs to work on him before taking the rest of his statement. He straightened and stepped back as the ambulance slid to the curb.
The EMT who jumped down from the passenger side looked too young, but was clearly the one in charge. Her hair was cut short and parted in the middle, and though she was all business, Joe liked her face. He guessed she was Italian and smiled when he saw the tag stitched on to her jumpsuit. Antonicci. In two quick movements, she opened one of the side panels on the truck and pulled out a medical kit. The driver who stepped from the cab was in his thirties and reminded Joe of a soldier. They conferred with Officer Thomas, glancing over at Joe and Reverend Callum. The driver grabbed a kit of his own and moved to tend to the reverend.