The Greatest Gift

by Michael John Sullivan

  “I do. I do,” he said.

  The little girl smiled. “It’s because of me.” She hugged him. Then she was gone.

  Hewitt stayed on his knees, wiping his face with his sleeve.

  “Oh my Lord, it can’t be,” Michael said. He ran past Hewitt to the door behind the manger.

  “Dennis,” he said, running to him. “Dennis, I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “I had one more task to complete, Michael.”

  “You’re not staying?”

  He shook his head. “There’s more work to be done.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Wherever time needs me,” he said with a smile.

  Michael turned and motioned to Elizabeth. “Come here,” he said.

  She joined him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Look who’s here,” he said, turning back. “Where did he go?”

  “Who?”

  “Dennis.”

  “The pastor?”

  “Michael Stewart? Where did you come from?” Hewitt asked, jumping to his feet.

  He joined them behind the manger. “Elizabeth Stewart? Is that you?” He pulled a small photo out and looked at her. “Are you all right? Are you hurt in any way?”

  She looked at Hewitt. “I’m fine. Dad, are you all right?” she asked.

  “He was here. Now he’s not,” Michael said.

  “You’re both here,” Hewitt said. “You’re both here and safe.” He hugged Michael and then Elizabeth. “Incredible! This is incredible!” He paused and looked around the church. “No one is going to believe me.”

  There was a noise in the back of the church. Michael squinted to see who was in the rear opening the door. “Who’s that?”

  “Pastor Dennis?” Hewitt said. “Pastor Dennis! He’s alive!” He and Michael ran to the back. Hewitt opened the door as Michael stayed a few feet behind him. TV lights lit up the area and reporters shouted questions.

  “Special Agent, is there a problem in the church?”

  “Did any of you see someone walk out this door in the last few seconds?” Hewitt asked the mob.

  “No,” shouted back several reporters.

  “Special Agent, what about the situation in the church?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The cross on top of the church. It lit up. Looked like the church was on fire.”

  “I don’t know anything about that. Everything is fine in here.” He shut the door and locked the latch. He stared at Michael. “Where in God’s name did you go?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  Hewitt dialed his cell phone. “Sir, we have a big break in the Stewart case.”

  Michael could hear the screaming from the other end of the phone as Hewitt moved it away from his ear. “You’re off the case. Why are you bothering me again? Do you know what time of night it is? I told you not to call me anymore regarding this case. Do you want to keep your job?”

  “Sir, calm down.” He placed the phone back against his ear. “I have Michael and Elizabeth Stewart here in the church. Safe. Unharmed.” Hewitt shook his head. “No, I’m not drinking.”

  He shook his head again. “Sir, I’m fine and sober. I have the Stewarts.” Hewitt glanced at Michael and waited a moment before talking again. “No. I can take care of this myself. He’s not threatening to escape. Yes sir. Yes. Yes. I won’t answer any questions from the media.”

  He put the phone away in his pocket. “Were you here all the time?” Hewitt asked.

  “No, but you won’t believe my explanation.”

  “You’d better think long and hard about what you’re going to say,” Hewitt said, “for your sake and your future.”

  Michael turned away from him and looked at Elizabeth. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  Chapter 66

  Hewitt guided them to the back of the church. He opened the door and was met again with glowing TV lights and reporters shouting questions. He shut it quickly saying, “Wrong move. We have to find another way. There’s too much of a crowd out there.”

  “I can help you,” said Michael. “Let me show you. Follow me.”

  Hewitt pulled back the latches to lock the door. “Is this how you escaped, Michael, though another hidden door? Did Dennis know about this? Where is he? Are you going to show me?”

  “What? Escaped? I wasn’t running from anyone. I was running to save my daughter.”

  Michael slid behind a curtain and opened a door. A narrow, dark stairway stood before them. Hewitt nudged Michael aside. “I know this. It leads to the other places on Main Street, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You escaped through here?”

  “No, as I said before, I didn’t escape. You wouldn’t believe me, so I won’t try to explain it.”

  “The FBI is going to want to know how you did it.”

  Michael didn’t respond. He took a couple of steps down the stairs.

  “Is there a car in one of these lots we can get to?” Hewitt asked.

  “No. Let me use your phone. I’ll call my sister.”

  “Okay,” he said, handing him his phone.

  He touched the screen and held the device up to his ear. “Guess who?”

  “Michael?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In church.”

  “In Northport?”

  “Yes. I need your help. Do you have a car?”

  “Is Elizabeth with you?”

  “Yes. She’s here.”

  Connie screamed into the phone. “Thank God! Thank you, Lord. Thank you.”

  He could hear her cry. He looked at Elizabeth and lowered his head. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said while weeping. “Let me talk to Elizabeth.”

  He handed her the phone. “Aunt Connie. Yes. I’m fine. I missed you too. I love you. I know you do. I know. I know. I know. I’m putting Dad back on the phone.”

  “Connie, I need you to calm down,” Michael said. “I need your help.”

  “Now you ask me for your help? What took you so long?”

  “Look, I’m with the FBI agent.”

  “My Hewitt?”

  “What? Your Hewitt?”

  He waited for Connie to respond.

  “Hello, Connie?”

  “What do you need?” she asked.

  “Where are you?”

  “At your house.”

  “Good. Get over to the temple on Main Street. In the back. The parking lot. We’ll be there. Hurry. There’s a mob in front of the church. Come up Norwood to avoid the mess over there.”

  “Coming.”

  He gave the phone back to Hewitt. “Let’s go,” Michael said. They walked down the steps and onto a concrete walkway. Hewitt held up a small flashlight.

  “Here,” Michael said, stopping. He turned to his right and walked up a couple of steps. He turned a knob, and a door opened. “We’re lucky the rabbi is so trusting.”

  They entered the temple, made their way to the back and out into the parking lot. From there, Michael could see the glow of the TV lights a few blocks away shining on the top of the church’s cross. Connie pulled in moments later. Before she put the car in park, she turned off the ignition, jumped out and ran into Elizabeth’s arms. “My God, I thought I would never see you again. I love you. I love you so much. I know I haven’t said it enough so I’m going to keep saying it. I love you. I love you. Do you know how much I love you?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  Michael smiled and watched tears fall from Elizabeth’s eyes.

  “We have to go,” Hewitt said, tapping his shoulder.

  “You heard the special agent,” Michael said.

  Connie released her embrace and hugged him.
“I love you too.”

  Michael slowly wrapped his arms around her. “We’ve waited way too long to say this to each other.” He pulled back. “I love you.”

  The three sat in the back while Hewitt drove. Connie turned around to face Michael. “We have a problem.”

  “What problem is this?” asked Hewitt. “I have to get them to the New York City office.”

  “It’s Dad, Michael.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s drunk.”

  “Well, nothing’s changed since I left.”

  “This time is different. He told me there’s nothing left for him to live for.”

  “When did he say this?”

  “Right after you called.”

  Michael looked at Hewitt. “It’s on the way to New York City. In Queens. Please.”

  Hewitt grimaced and looked at his phone. “Fine. It can only be a few minutes though.”

  “Thank you.”

  They all sat in silence for the forty-minute drive. Michael shivered at the sight of the old white house. The porch light was out, and a piece of a torn screen on the side fluttered in the wind.

  “I’ll wait here,” Hewitt said. “I have some calls to make. This is not under my jurisdiction either. However, if you need me, come and get me.”

  “Stay here, Elizabeth,” Michael said as he got out of the car.

  Elizabeth pushed back. “But … ”

  “No buts. I have to handle this myself.”

  She looked away.

  “She’ll be fine with me,” Hewitt said.

  They walked up the brown wooden stairs. The porch door squeaked and shook as Michael opened and closed it. “I don’t have the key to the front door,” he said.

  Connie took a keychain out of her purse and unlocked the door. Inside, the hallway was dark. The living room had a lone light on, and Jim lay on the floor near his chair. “Dad! Dad!” Connie yelled. “Are you all right?”

  She lifted his head, and he opened his eyes. “You came. Oh Connie, you came,” Jim said, trying to sit up. He put his hands to her face as she tried to lift him. “Michael? Is that you? Oh God, I’m dead. Am I dead?”

  “You’re not dead,” he said. “What were you doing on the floor?”

  “I must have fallen asleep. No one answered my calls tonight. Where were you two?”

  “Dad, I was out looking for Michael.”

  “What about you, Michael? Where were you? Where did you go?”

  “I wasn’t home.”

  “I know you weren’t home. Do you know the FBI and police were over here almost every day asking about you?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well now you do.”

  Michael pulled him up and into his chair. Jim started to rock back and forth. Then he stopped and began to cry.

  “What’s wrong Dad? We’re here for you,” Connie said.

  “I don’t want to live anymore. I’m so alone.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  Jim shook his head. “I didn’t do enough to help your mom.”

  “What are you talking about?” Connie asked.

  “I tried,” Jim said. “I tried to get her the best doctors, the best hospitals, the best medicine. That horrible breast cancer. I hate it. I wish I could kill it.”

  “We’ve spoken about this before,” Michael said. “You did the best you could.”

  Jim shook his head. “No. I didn’t make enough. I couldn’t afford the best care for her. We weren’t rich, you know.”

  “I know,” Michael said. He knelt down in front of him. “Dad, you did the best you could. That’s all anyone can ask.”

  Jim wiped the tears from his eyes and held Michael’s hand, shaking it. “She was so young. So young.”

  “I know. I know,” Michael said, “but it’s about time we both stop blaming ourselves.”

  Connie knelt beside Michael. “No one is blaming you, Dad. No one ever has.”

  Jim sighed and straightened up. He stared at Michael. “I don’t know what happened to us. I don’t know why we ended up not talking to each other. I wanted to be better than my father.”

  “I’m sure Grandpa was proud of you,” Michael said.

  Jim waved his hands in the air. “He was disappointed in me,” he said. “I could tell by the way he treated me, spoke to me.”

  “How do you know?” Michael asked.

  “I remember when I came home from the war I was so proud and couldn’t wait to see him,” Jim said. He smiled. “I thought I had done something noble and brave. My father would surely respect me for what I did for our country.”

  Jim took a deep breath that lasted a few seconds. He looked away from Michael. “I walked up the steps and said, ‘I’m home, Dad.’”

  “What did he say?” Michael asked.

  Jim looked up at him. “He laughed at me and said, ‘So what. Go out and get a job if you want to live here.’ I thought he was going to throw me down the steps.”

  Michael lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I wish you had told me this before.”

  “Why?” Jim asked. “Why would I tell you this? I wanted you to love my father. I wanted you to love me. It’s why I gave you the only love I knew – tough. Just like my dad. I wanted to be like him.”

  They sat in silence for a minute or so until Elizabeth walked inside. “Dad, is everything all right?” she asked, entering the living room.

  Connie and Michael turned around.

  “Elizabeth,” said Jim, standing.

  “Grandpa.”

  Connie and Michael stood and moved away as Elizabeth hugged him. “Grandpa, are you all right?”

  “I am now,” he said. “Where in God’s name did you go?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Well, you’re going to tell me. Aren’t you?”

  “Someday, Grandpa. Someday.”

  Michael saw Hewitt standing at the door.

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Thanks,” Connie said. “We’re fine now. We’re like any family. We have our issues. Nothing a little intensive therapy and a good cry can’t help.”

  Hewitt nodded and looked at his phone. “Wow,” he said.

  “What?” Michael asked. “Something wrong?”

  “Not at all. It’s Christmas.” He looked away and walked back toward the door. “Merry Christmas.”

  Michael looked at the old clock on the wall. “Merry Christmas to you.” He went outside and looked up into the dark. “Happy birthday, Jesus.”

  Chapter 67

  Three Years Later

  Michael stared out the window, watching the snowflakes coat the front lawn. He sipped hot chocolate and marveled at the feistiness of a bird, sitting alone atop the big, green pine tree that partially covered his big window.

  He tapped the glass with his knuckles. “Hey, I thought you guys are supposed to fly south for the winter?”

  Michael took another sip, relishing the sweet taste of a melted marshmallow. He breathed in deep, letting the aroma fill his lungs. The bird wiggled its head sideways and around and flew off.

  “Well, well, look who is up early on Christmas Day,” Elizabeth said as she came down the stairs. “Did you open my gift yet?”

  Michael turned around. “Absolutely not.”

  “Did you peek?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Elizabeth let out a short laugh. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Maybe I did.”

  She hugged him. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you.”

  She pulled away and smiled. “Are we keeping the tradition alive this year?”

  Michael put up his hand. “Look at the weather. It’s awful out there. The wind is really coming off the Sound.” He went to the window and clear
ed away some condensation with the sleeve of his robe. “Look, Elizabeth. It’s terrible out there.”

  “Dad, come on. You know we only have a little time together before I go back to school.”

  Michael nodded. “Dress warm.”

  “Should I wake her up or will you?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I’m not sure she will be up to making the trip. She’s been feeling sick a lot.”

  “I know. I heard her last night in the bathroom. I wish I could do something to help.”

  “I’ll see how she feels.”

  “It would be fun to have her along. Maybe the cold air will help.” Elizabeth ran up the stairs.

  Michael placed his cup in the sink and took a quick glance at the tree. “Wonderful,” he said. “Everyone understands.” There were only three presents underneath the understated, decorated tree. Perfect.

  He went upstairs and lay down on the bed, lifting the covers up. “Peek a boo, guess who?” Michael laughed. “Hey, beautiful, how are you feeling today?”

  “I’m fine, better than last night,” Susan said.

  She sat up and Michael placed his head on her belly. “I can hear the heart beat,” he said.

  “He’s been kicking up a storm over the last couple of nights.”

  “Are you up for our little tradition?”

  Susan took a deep breath and touched her stomach. “Sounds like this one will be a drummer.”

  “You don’t have to go,” Michael said. “Elizabeth will understand.”

  “Yes. I’ll go. I’m fine. Give me a few minutes to get myself together.”

  “I was thinking about names,” he said.

  “Oh. What are your suggestions?” she asked.

  “Paul. I love the name Paul. It says courage to me. What do you think?”

  “I like it. Let’s discuss it more later. Let me get changed.”

  Michael gave his wife a kiss. “Let me know if you need any help.” He dressed and took a gold wedding ring out of the drawer. “Fits perfectly,” he said, looking at it in the mirror.

  “All right, Elizabeth, where are you?” he asked, walking down the stairs.

  “Right here,” she replied, popping out in front of him in the hallway.

  “Wow. This is a change,” he said. “Usually it’s me waiting for you women to get ready.”