The Greatest Gift

by Michael John Sullivan

  “I thought you were home.”

  “I have another one. Far, far away.” He paused. “I will never forget what you did for me,” he said.

  “You would have done the same for me.”

  “I am not sure I would have been so brave.”

  Michael looked down, realizing the conversation was leading to saying goodbye. “If I do return, we shall share a meal.”

  Abel took his cloth off and smiled. “My friend. There is a meal waiting for you if you return.”

  “I wish I could show my gratitude more.”

  “You have. You saved my son with that white food. You saved me by saving my son.”

  “We saved each other.”

  Abel moved closer. “How did I save you?”

  “I was alone. Sad. Grieving. I had no one to talk to. I had no means of making any silver. You helped me.” Michael grasped his hand. “This is how good friends wish each other the best where I live.”

  Abel smiled. “May the wind be at your back. Follow the sea, my friend. Be careful of the Romans. They will use their force upon anyone who is weak. Be strong. Do not be timid in using your sword. They will have no fear in using theirs.” He turned around and began his trip back home.

  Michael watched him disappear into the night. He could still hear his voice shouting out instructions. It’s time to go home. He felt some uneasiness knowing he was leaving Abel behind to fend for himself in this world. I wish he could come back with me. He would be safe in our time. Could make a decent living and not worry about the Romans taking his food and profit. He looked up at the sky and let the crispness of the air fill his body.

  Goodbye, Abel. By the time I get back, you will have lived your lifetime. I hope it is a wonderful life. I hope you have your dream fulfilled, working with your grandchildren. I know how much family means to you. While we come from centuries many years apart, we are much alike. Goodbye, my friend.

  Chapter 30

  Modern-Day Long Island

  “Hey, FBI guy, I need you to get a hold of yourself.” She looked behind her and saw a crowd was forming. Some were even taking pictures. “Hey, knock it off. Can’t you see my friend needs help? Get away from here.” She waved her hands in front of a teenage boy. “Don’t you have school today?”

  She looked down Main Street and watched as the crowd continued to grow. She noticed a couple of boys holding up cell phones. “Hey,” she said in a stern tone, “you’d better get up now before it’s too late.”

  Hewitt staggered to his feet.

  “There you go. Want me to call you a cab?”

  He shooed her away with his hands. “Leave me alone.”

  She took a few steps back and sent a text to Susan. Help! GQ agent folding like a house of cards.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m here to listen.”

  He shook his head and took a deep breath.

  “I can be a good listener. I know you don’t believe that but I am.”

  Hewitt turned and put his phone in his front pocket. He took out his sunglasses and covered his eyes. He tucked in his shirt and adjusted his jacket.

  “There you go. We’re back to being the big, strong, arrogant FBI agent I so love to hate.” She grinned.

  He didn’t. “I shouldn’t drive. I’ve broken every conduct rule in the book.”

  “Welcome to the club. I’ve broken a few myself. We’re not perfect. I don’t see anybody here flapping their wings like an angel.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy. I do need a ride.”

  “No problem. Wait here.” Moments later, Connie pulled up to the curb, and Hewitt hopped in the front passenger seat. His head slumped forward against the glove compartment.

  “Hey, you’re going to hurt your neck that way. Sit back,” she said.

  He put his hands on top of his head.

  “Where am I dropping you off? Your office?”

  Hewitt turned his head to face her and took his glasses off, giving her a look of disbelief.

  “Oh. Right. Can’t go there. Where?”

  “I’ve got nowhere to go.” He put his sunglasses back on and leaned his head against the window.

  Connie slowed down along Main Street and parked near the theater. “I don’t know anything about you, but what about family? You’ve got a ring on. Can I take you home to your wife?”

  Hewitt mumbled a few words.

  “Come on, big guy. Help me out here. Speak up.”

  “My divorce is final. I don’t have anyone.”

  Connie hesitated, began a sentence and stopped. There were a few more moments of silence before she spoke. “Sorry.”

  He sighed. “Do you want me to get out? I will if you want.”

  “What happens now?”

  He shook his head and didn’t answer.

  “Let’s get something to eat. We both could use some real food.”

  Hewitt shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Take me to your place. I can’t be seen in public.”

  Connie pulled away from the curb. “Hate to break it to you but you’ve already been seen in public. I’m not sure what to say in this situation.”

  Hewitt grabbed her hand. “Stop.”

  “The car?”

  “No. Talking.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You need to get in the last word, don’t you?”

  Connie stared at him as they waited for the light to turn green. As it did, she spoke. “Yupsters.”

  Hewitt sighed.

  “Sorry. Trying to cheer you up.”

  “No more.”

  “All right.”

  “What part of no more didn’t you understand?”

  “I understand it all.” She turned to him and pretended to zip her lips closed with her fingers.

  “Good.”

  “Almost home.”

  Hewitt banged his head on the window a couple of times. “I blew it. I ruined it.”

  “Does that help? I get migraines sometimes, and I always wondered if you hit your head a few times, would it help you forget the pain on the other side?”

  “There is no pain relief for what I am going through now.”

  “Are you insulting me?”

  “You’re starting to make me wish you’d drive the car over my head and put me out of my misery.”

  Connie turned onto Waterside Avenue. “Oh, I’m that bad? Sorry. I’m trying to listen.”

  Hewitt scrunched up the tie in his hand. “I just could never let go of the possibility she was alive.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  “The marriage fell apart because of me.”

  Connie pulled into Michael’s driveway. She noticed her father’s car parked a few yards down the block. “Oh, great. Now what?” she said, unbuckling her seat belt.

  “Problem?” asked Hewitt as he climbed out of the car.

  “I hope not,” she said, retrieving her purse from the back seat.

  She walked ahead of him and saw the front door was open. She called out once inside the hallway. “Dad? You here?”

  They walked a few steps toward the kitchen and were shocked to see Special Agent Holligan. “Why, Special Agent Paul, what a surprise to see you here,” he said.

  “Why are you here?” Connie asked.

  “Your dad needed a ride to the hospital. I’ll pick him up later. He was due for a checkup.”

  “Holligan,” Hewitt said, shaking his hand. “Good to see you. Have you any news for me?”

  “I was hoping you would have some for me. After all, you’re the lead agent on thi
s case.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “It’s a little dark in here for sunglasses,” Holligan said.

  “The sunlight has really bothered me the last couple of days. Been having migraines too. I haven’t been getting much sleep because of the case.”

  “Relax. Take your glasses off.”

  “Kev, I’m going to put some burgers on. Want one?” Connie asked, standing in front of him.

  Kevin kept staring at Hewitt.

  “Hello, anyone in there?” Connie asked, snapping her fingers in his face.

  “Medium rare, Con,” he said.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” asked Hewitt. “This water diet is taking its toll on my kidneys.” He gave a high-pitched laugh.

  “Upstairs. First door you see staring you in the face when you reach the top floor,” Connie said. She grabbed some frozen patties from the freezer while Hewitt ran up the stairs. After unwrapping them, she placed three burgers on a frying pan and lit the stove. She watched Kevin peeking upstairs from the corner of her eye.

  Kevin returned as the pan started to sizzle. She flipped the burgers over.

  “What’s he doing here with you?”

  “I’m trying to help him with the case.”

  “Don’t you lie to me. I’m not your average guy you can con. I know the games you play and the nonsense you spread.”

  Connie flipped the burgers again, the grease spitting up off the pan and into her face. “Ugh.” She wiped it off with a dishtowel from the nearby rack. “I’m not lying. I’m trying to do whatever I can to help them. Or don’t you care?”

  He swiped the towel and waved it at her. “Don’t play that guilt game with me. If you’re protecting that loser brother of yours, I’ll make sure you personally rot in a maximum-security prison for aiding a fugitive. You can spend the rest of your days in a small room with just a bed and toilet.”

  Kevin pushed the towel into her face as Hewitt returned to the kitchen.

  “What’s your problem?” Hewitt asked, striking him in the back. “Is that any way to treat a woman?”

  “Keep your hands off of me, agent,” Kevin said, slapping at Hewitt’s face.

  His sunglasses fell to the floor. He quickly retrieved them, putting them back on just as quickly. “You messed with the wrong guy on the worst possible day.”

  “Okay, fellas, there’s too much testosterone flowing here. Let’s drop the macho FBI act,” Connie said, stepping in between them, showing her weapon – a spatula.

  “Move out of the way, Connie,” Kevin said as he grabbed the spatula and threw it against the wall.

  She stayed between them. “Please. This isn’t the best way to settle scores.”

  He pushed her aside.

  “I told you to keep your hands off her,” Hewitt said, throwing a punch to his face.

  Kevin swung back, knocking Hewitt’s glasses sideways. “Let’s see those eyes.” He reached for them, and Hewitt snatched his hand. They grunted and fell to the floor.

  “Stop it,” Connie yelled.

  “Shut up,” Kevin said with a grimace. He pulled the sunglasses off and laughed. “You’ve been drinking. Strike one. On top of that, striking another agent can get you suspended. You’ll also be taken off this case.”

  They scrambled to their feet, each with a hand on the other’s throat. They tumbled into the hallway pictures hanging near the front door. Connie ran back to the kitchen.

  “Stop it now or I’ll call your office,” she threatened.

  They released their grips on one another. “You wouldn’t,” said Kevin.

  “Try me,” Connie said. She wiggled her cell phone showing a picture of them fighting.

  “She would,” said Hewitt. “I know she would.”

  Chapter 31

  First-century Jerusalem

  The smell of the sea swept over Michael, as his feet grew tired from the long walk. The urge to reclaim his favorite bench at Crab Meadow Beach inspired his desire to continue the trip. He walked and walked, keeping his head high. He took a deep breath and gathered in as much of the aroma as he could. He finally stood at the tip of the shore, watching the waves tumble forward, as he cleaned some sand out of his ears. Removing his sandals, he took several strides into the sea and let the salty water soak his aching feet. He sat down and allowed the next couple of waves to massage his legs.

  Are you up there, Vicki? He looked skyward. Can you hear me? If I haven’t said it lately, I want you to know I miss you. I miss the times we walked on the beach. I miss holding your hand. Remember the time when we were at Crab Meadow and we saw the small plane coming our way? We both thought it was having problems and was coming toward us. I shouted to you, and you calmly picked up Elizabeth and got her to safety. Remember that?

  He paused. Okay, the plane was fine and we were too. I just wanted to say how grateful I was to have you in my life. I know the time was short for us. Dreadfully short. I miss kissing you. I miss your hugs.

  Michael rubbed his toes, trying to gather himself. I miss talking to you, especially at night. Our room is so empty now. I’m alone. I can’t stand it. There’s no one to rub my back anymore. I have no one to touch, to love. I didn’t realize how important you were to me until you died. Now I understand how much I needed you. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to appreciate it. He sighed and looked up to the sky again, letting some tears leak down his cheeks. I’d really appreciate it if you ask the man in charge for some help. I understand I … Michael stood and saw two men rowing. They were casting nets and shouting to each other. He dropped his pouch and took several more steps into the sea. Before he realized how far he’d gone, Michael found himself about one hundred yards from the beach.

  They’ll know how far Caesarea is from here.

  He removed the cloth from his face, cupped some water in his hands and splashed himself. He looked down the shoreline but couldn’t locate any city markers. I’m so tired I can barely feel my legs. I need help. I’ll take any kind of help.

  Michael waved at the two men. “Hello, my friends,” he shouted.

  They didn’t answer and continued to remove fish from the net. The water rose to the top of his chest and waves touched the bottom of his neck. “Can you help me?” he yelled.

  The men were almost done as he approached the boat. One fish slipped away. Michael caught it and held it up. “Here.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” a man said, smiling. He was elderly, certainly a veteran of the sea as evidenced by his gruff, wrinkled face. “Are you lost?”

  “I am.”

  “Where do you need to go?” the man asked.

  “Caesarea.”

  The man turned to the other and said, “This is him. Right?”

  “Yes,” his partner said while looking up at the sky and pulling down his hood. He pulled the net up into the boat and picked up an oar. “Are you ready to catch more, George?”

  “Same way?”

  “Yes.”

  The man went back and forward with the oar as the boat now had gone some distance. “Can you tell me where to find Caesarea?” Michael asked.

  “Stay along the shore and follow us.”

  “I am coming,” Michael said.

  He waded back to the beach, picked up his pouch and walked parallel to the boat, the wet sand clinging to the inside of his toes. He stepped hard against rocks as he walked the shoreline to dislodge it.

  The men rowed at a faster pace so Michael jogged a few yards. “Hey, what is the hurry?” he called out.

  Michael stopped and bent over, catching his breath. He took off his sandals and banged them against a rock, removing the last bit of wet sand. He looked up, and the boat was upon him. “Oh no,” he said, stepping back.

  George got out of the boat and handed him a bag.

  “What is this?”

 
“Food.”

  He looked inside and counted four fish.

  “You will need it,” George said.

  “Am I near the city?”

  “You are. By the time the sun is at its peak, you will be in Caesarea.”

  The other man pulled the boat back into the sea, keeping his back to them. “We have more people to feed.”

  “I am coming,” George said.

  “I will row.”

  “How can I ever repay you?” Michael asked.

  “You can. On the twenty-fifth of December, you can bring the same number of fish to Cecilia.”

  “Cecilia?”

  “Yes, Cecilia Farmer.” George smiled and got back into the boat.

  “Wait! Cecilia Farmer? Did you say Cecilia? Stop, George,” he shouted. “I know your wife. She loves … ”

  Michael watched them row away. “You.”

  George nodded, waved and smiled as they continued to row. They didn’t take a path along the shore. Instead, they rowed straight ahead, disappearing into the fog.

  Chapter 32

  Modern-Day Long Island

  Hewitt went back upstairs to recover from the brief fight. Connie followed and watched him attend to his eye. “Oh, that looks bad,” she said.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Go back downstairs with Holligan.” Hewitt kept staring at his phone.

  “Look, divorce happens,” Connie said. “Happened to me. There’ll be some rough days. If you need someone to talk to, hey, I’m here.”

  “That’s nice to hear, but it’s the least of my problems.”

  “Is there something more?” Connie asked.

  Hewitt hesitated.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me.” She watched his eyes stare at her from the bathroom mirror.

  “It’s the pastor.”

  “What about him?”

  “He was hurt bad before. I took him to the hospital.”

  “What?”

  “I took him to the emergency room. I can’t believe what I just heard.”

  “Tell me. Is he okay?”