COMING HOME by Bevey

Part Three

The plane ride was as great as Chris had imagined it would be. As he followed Kent off the plane, he wondered if he would be able to fly in the cockpit with the pilot on the way home. Soon after take off, Kent had pushed a button and calming classical music had come out of the hidden speakers in the cabin. It must have done it’s job, because within moments he had heard snoring from Kent’s seat. Enjoying the quietness, he hadn’t woken Kent up until they had come into sight of LA. After leaving the plane, Kent paused to talk to the pilot. Chris looked toward the terminal and decided to use this time to go talk to his friends. At least the ones he knew that were working.

He glanced at Kent and tuned into the conversation. "I know that you usually get down time while we run our errands. However I would like you to stay close by the plane this time. I will be sending things here that won’t fit in the rental car." He looked over at Chris. "It has been a while since I’ve been here. It may take us a while to find the rental desk."

Chris smiled softly. "I can help find it." It was right next to the security office. He could say good bye to his friends, while Kent rented the car. He quickly turned and led the way to the building, without glancing back to see if Kent was following. Since he didn’t, he missed the surprise that crossed Kent’s face. He paused after entering the building, because he didn’t want to lose Kent in here. Even in middle of the week, the airport was full of people. Once Kent came in behind him, he started on the twisted path to the rental area. Around the time the sign of the nearest agency came into view, Chris heard someone calling his name. He turned and saw a young Asian man dressed in a security uniform coming his way.

His smile was natural as he greeted his friend. "Saul, what are you doing here today? It’s your day off."

"There’s a flu bug going around. With Liana due any time, we need the extra money. But the question isn’t why am I here, why are you here in middle of a school day?"

The question made Chris realize that he had neglected something. Turning he saw Kent standing nearby quietly taking in the scene with a strange look on his face. He couldn’t read what was going through his dad’s mind. "Kent, this is Saul Haun. He works here at the airport on the security team. Saul, this is Kent Jordan, my father." The word still sounded foreign on his tongue and he didn’t miss the astonishment on Saul’s face.

He cautiously watched the two of them shake hands. His friend’s words made him blush. "You must be proud of Chris. He’s very talented."

Kent smiled and just nodded his head. "I’m discovering a lot of things about Chris I didn’t know." Then he turned to Chris. "I can find the rental desk by myself from here, so you can talk to Saul for a little longer." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away. Chris watched him go and didn’t see the interest on his friend’s face.

However when Saul spoke, he turned back to his friend. "So what are you and your dad doing here? And why have you never mentioned him?"

Chris answered the easiest one first. "I only found out about him recently." He paused trying to figure out just how much he wanted to say. He judged his words carefully. "After Mom died two nights ago, I tracked him down in New Mexico." The stunned look on Saul’s face made it hard to go on, but he had to. "We’re wrapping things up here and then I’m going to live with him and his family."

He could tell his friend didn’t know what to say. Unfortunately there wasn’t much anyone could say at a moment like this. Saul gently placed his hand on his shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. When he spoke, his voice expressed the sadness he was feeling. "I’m sorry. Do you need anything?"

Chris gave a negative shake of his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak, since he felt the tears trying to force themselves out. He had to be strong, or he wouldn’t make it through the next couple of hours. Luckily Saul realized this. He pondered what Chris had told him and suddenly he glanced down into his friend’s face. "You’re leaving LA . . . the others are going to want to know this." Without waiting for Chris to react, he reached down to his walkie talkie and paged the rest of the security team. Chris suddenly realized that everyone he wanted to say good bye to was working. The others that normally work on the weekends must have been called in too due to the flu bug. This was working out better than he had hoped.

Soon he was surrounded by his friends. As Saul quickly told them what was happening, Chris silently watched their faces. He heard gasps when Saul told them about his mom’s death. The sadness reflected in their expressions was enhanced when they heard that he was leaving. After Saul filled them in, silence settled among the groups. Chris squirmed slightly knowing that he was the center of attention, but he waited for the fall out. The two females, Kelsey and Ashley, both moved as one as they came forward and quickly hugged him. The impromptu embraces almost broke the dam that was holding his anguish back. However he was quickly distracted by the flood of questions directed at him. "Are you okay?" "Do you need anything?" "Are you leaving today?" "You do know to call us if you need anything, right?" Chris was suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

He was actually glad when he felt Kent’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to see that his father’s expression was filled with curiosity as he took in the circle of people surrounding him. Before he could say anything, Saul once again beat him to the punch. His friend quickly did the introductions. Kent removed his arm from Chris’ shoulder to give out handshakes and then replaced it. It was strange how something could be comforting and strange at the same time. Chris fought the urge to shake it off as he waited for Kent to say something. It didn’t take long. "Chris, we need to get going if we’re going to finish our errands before dinner tonight." With that, he let go of Chris and walked away, giving him some time to say his good byes to his friends.

********

Kent watched from afar as Chris shook hands with his friends and got a couple more hugs from the two females. He wondered how his son had made friends with the whole airport security team. He realized that he knew nothing of Chris’s life and decided to check if he had an arrest record when they were at the police station. He wanted to believe that the result would be negative, but he had to verify for his family’s sake. It didn’t take his son long to say good bye. He slipped on his sunglasses as he watched Chris walk toward him. The agency had rented him a SUV, which would make the day’s errands go smoother. It didn’t take them long to find the correct vehicle and start on their way.

Kent’s first concern was to find lunch. He was starving and they still had an hour before they had to meet with the police. He turned to Chris. "The man at the rental agency gave me good directions to the nearest Italian restaurant. Is that okay with you or would you like to go somewhere else?"

When Chris gave his agreement, Kent couldn’t decide if he had said yes so he wouldn’t create any problems . . . or if he actually wanted Italian. However, he didn’t press the boy. He expertly directed the truck through the city traffic as he followed the map that the agent had given him. A short while later, they pulled into the parking lot beside the restaurant. Before getting out of the vehicle, he recalled the incident that had happened earlier in the day. Turning to Chris, he casually reached over and stopped him from leaving. Chris glanced at him curiously. "What?"

Kent weighed his words carefully. "Earlier today, you were offended when I offered to pay for your sunglasses. I would like to buy lunch for you. Will this be a problem?"

Chris didn’t say anything for a second, but then he slowly shook his head. "No, it won’t." He pulled his arm from Kent’s grasp and headed toward the restaurant. Kent watched him go, before locking up the vehicle and following him. He felt that the boy had grudgingly decided to let him buy lunch. He wondered who he had inherited this pride from.

Unfortunately they couldn’t delay the visit to the police station indefinitely. When they left the restaurant a little while later, Kent departed with some more knowledge of what made his son tick. He had learned that Chris liked soda . . . orange was his favorite. He also had found out that the boy liked spaghetti. And he ate with his napkin on his lap and he didn’t slurp the noodles. The meal itself was eaten in almost silence. However it wasn’t an uncomfortable lunch, both had enjoyed the moment of tranquillity. It was as if both were dreading the upcoming visit.

Kent also knew that there was something he had to address with Chris before they actually arrived at the station. He waited until they were on the road again. He asked Chris to help him find the precinct that they were looking for, since it was located in middle of his old neighborhood. As they drove, Kent not knowing how else to say what he had to, just spit it out. "Chris, Macy and I want to bring Meg back to the ranch and bury her in the family graveyard." He waited for Chris’s reaction without taking his eyes off of the road. He couldn’t help wishing that Macy had been there to help break this. She would have done it a lot better.

********

Chris was speechless. Since he hadn’t dwelled on what would happen next, this idea was coming from left field. However the more he thought about what Kent was offering, the more grateful he became. He couldn’t believe that they were willing to do this for his mom, giving her a resting place close to the people she loved. Finally he found his voice, "that would be nice." The words came out soft as he once again battled overwhelming sadness. Luckily the police station came into view then. In a few moments, he would be telling his story. His fears resurfaced as Chris realized that he would probably have to identify Barry too. If he never saw the man again, he would be ecstatic. However, he would do anything if it would help put that bastard behind bars.

Kent quickly spotted the open parking spot in front of the precinct. Leaving the vehicle, Chris waited for Kent to come around to his side before heading toward the building. Walking up to the door, Chris noticed Kent adjusting his steps so that his speed matched Chris’s. This little act of courtesy made him realize that he wasn’t going in solo, which was a great relief.

Chris looked around as Kent talked to the desk sergeant. The noise was overwhelming with cops coming and going mixed with the ringing telephones. Like always, he wanted out of the precinct as soon as he walked in. And this time, he hadn’t even been escorted by any officers and had entered mainly by his own free will.

"This way, Chris," Kent’s voice brought him back to reality. He glanced over at his father. Kent was pointing down the hallway. "The sergeant said that Detective Donatos’ office is down here." Chris realized that Kent was waiting for him to move. As he passed Kent, he felt him place his palm on the middle of his back. Chris wasn’t sure if he meant it for comfort or to keep him from bolting.

As they walked toward Donatos’ office, Chris once again submersed himself into memories. Unknown to Kent, Chris knew Donatos. As head of the Juvenile Delinquent Division, known as JDD to the cops at the precinct, Donatos had been who Chris had been brought to when he hadn’t been careful. Chris had realized quickly that the man had a soft spot for him. He had never officially arrested Chris for any of the minor infractions and had always managed to smooth things over so the other party hadn’t pressed charges. Their meetings would eventually end up at the local diner where Donatos would give him a stern lecture. It would work for a while, since pick pocketing was on his list of least favorite activities. However during the rough times, they would need money for necessities or food and then he would use his skills to help supplement the income. Most of the time, he had been able to get enough money without any consequences. Then he would get careless and once again have a meeting with Donatos. Although he had never said anything to his mom, he had also noticed that within 24 hours of these discussions that an anonymous envelope would arrive at the apartment with money in it. He had kept his suspicions to himself, since he had never told her about his encounters with Donatos.

As Kent slowed, Chris came back to the present. He glanced through the window into the JDD room. He easily spotted his friend talking to another man that he didn’t know, but who had cop written all over him. There was a third person in the group, which Chris didn’t recognize at first. But when he did, he felt a severe shock run through his body. He didn’t realize he was shaking until he sensed Kent forcing him to sit down on a bench in the hall. From a great distance, he could hear Kent asking him what was wrong. He tried to tell him, but he could only repeat over and over, "she’s going to take me away . . ."

********

Kent quickly debated his options. However, he soon realized that he wouldn’t get anything out of Chris unless he did something drastic, since he obviously was in the midst of hysterics. Spotting a water cooler down the hall, he came up with a plan. He retrieved a plastic cup of water and used his fingers to splash Chris in the face with the ice cold liquid. It worked and released him from whatever had gripped him. He still looked pale, so Kent pressed the cup into his hand. Chris raised it to his lips and quickly finished it off. He lowered both the cup and his gaze as he started to talk.

"Three years ago, my mom was arrested in a sting operation. Of course, I didn’t find out about that for a while. The first hint I got that something was wrong was when the knock came on the apartment door. I opened it to find the woman in the office behind me and two cops. They sent the teenager watching me home and then took me to a foster family. I was confused, scared, and alone. No one would tell me where my mom was at.

"The next year was bad. I was constantly being moved from family to family. Luckily I was never physically abused. But I was never able to become a member of a family. Just as I started getting comfortable with one, she would show up and move me. I never have figured out why. The only thing it accomplished was to make me even more alone. I even stopped talking near the end. Just when I finally reached the point of wanting to bolt and attempt life on the streets, the dreadful knock came on the door again. I opened it to find my mom on the other side. I don’t know who else was with her . . . I just went into her embrace and felt safe for the first time in a year."

He paused as he studied the crumpled cup in his hand. Then he continued, "I found out later that she had been released after only six months. It had taken her another six to get the state to reunite us. And now, the lady is going to take me away again." He played with the piece of twisted Styrofoam as he waited for Kent’s reaction.

Kent placed both of his hands on Chris’s shoulders and squatted down until they were level. "Look at me, Chris." Chris must have not reacted quick enough, because Kent repeated the order a little more forceful. "Look at me, Chris."

Chris raised his gaze until he was looking into the pair of electric blue eyes identical to his own. In them, he saw concern and anger. It took a few seconds, but he also realized by Kent’s expression that he meant to do his best to protect him. Kent’s words reinforced this impression. "No one is going to take you way. We came in here together. We will leave together. Do you understand?"

Chris was too overwhelmed to speak. He nodded his head as relief flooded through his body.

Kent smiled softly. "Are you ready?"

Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before returning the smile. "Let’s do it."

As they entered the room, the three fell silent. Donatos smiled at Chris and came forward with his hand held out to Kent. "Hi, I’m Detective Marcos Donatos. I head the Juvenile Delinquent Division."

Kent shook the offered hand before speaking. "I’m Kent Jordan, Chris’s father."

If Donatos was shocked at the announcement, he hid it well. He turned to Chris and pulled him into a quick bear hug. "I’m so sorry about Meg, Chris." He paused and released him. "When an ID was established, I quickly sent some men for you. However, they said you had not been in. Then I find out that you actually witnessed the shooting . . ." The big detective struggled with his emotions for a second. He on purposely changed the subject when he turned to introduce the other two in the room.

"Detective John Warner is from the Homicide Division. He’s the one you spoke to last night, Kent, and is in charge of Meg’s investigation." He stopped and glared at the woman. "This is Rita Maxwell from Child’s Services." His tone of voice made it apparent that he didn’t want her with them and her expression reflected that the feeling was mutual. He headed toward the refrigerator as he continued, "Kent, before we start can I get you anything . . . coffee, water, soda?"

Kent shook his head, "No thanks, I’m fine." He hid his smile as the detective removed a cold orange soda and handed it to Chris without asking. Chris gave him a grateful thank you as he opened it.

Donatos waved to a table in middle of the room. "Let’s all take a seat." It didn’t take them long to claim their seats and Chris was relieved to find himself between Donatos and Kent. He noticed that Warner had a pen and a pad of paper in front of him and that Donatos had a tape recorder.

Warner started the ball rolling. "As accurate as you can be, tell us what happened."

Chris retold his story, leaving nothing out. He started from the events that had led to his mom breaking off the engagement and continued until he had fled the scene of the shooting. The next hour was taken up with the two detectives asking him to repeat parts of his tale. Finally both were satisfied and Warner slid over a couple pieces of paper. "Read this and sign it if it is correct."

Chris started to read through it and was startled when he noticed that the detective had written down every thing he had said verbatim. Finishing it, he signed it and returned the statement to Warner. He looked at Donatos. "Now what?"

His friend didn’t look too thrilled about what was coming up. "We arrested Barry after talking to your dad last night. Since you are the one that supplied us with a name, we need you to identify him. After that Kent and you can leave."

"Not so fast," Rita Maxwell spoke up for the first time. Chris felt Kent tense up beside him, making him duck his head to hide his smile. He had a feeling that it was going to be something to see him riled. "According to my records, Meg said she didn’t know who Chris’s dad was. We don’t have any proof."

When Kent spoke his voice was a low controlled growl. "You want proof . . . I can get you proof." Kent wasn’t going to allow this lady to bring grief on his son a second time. He glanced at Donatos as he headed for the nearest phone. "You got a fax machine?"

The detective, who was fighting his own smile, quickly rattled off the number as Kent dialed the phone. It didn’t take long for the other end to be picked up.

"Steven, Kent here." He barked into the hand piece. "Did you get a hold of that lawyer yet?" Steven answered in the affirmative. Kent’s voice reflected the relief he felt. "Good! Could you fax over the Will to this number?" He quickly repeated what Donatos had told him.

Steven agreed to do that, then asked, "are you having problems with Child’s Services?"

Kent was surprised, but then again he shouldn’t have been. Steven had always been good at second guessing problems. "Got any ideas?"

"I had a gut feeling that you might, so I called up my dad, the Judge. He made a special trip to town and signed the form making you and Macy temporary guardians of Chris. I’ll fax that to you also."

Kent smiled. "Thanks, buddy. You’re invited to the ranch on Saturday for dinner."

Steven sighed contentedly. "For Rose’s cooking, it’s a date."

Kent quickly hung up and dialed another number. "Martha, let me talk to Doc. This is Kent." His voice had lost the growl, although the anger was still apparent.

With in seconds he had Doc on the line. "Have you been able to run the blood tests yet?"

"Just finished and the results show a 98% match. Which means, there is no doubt that you are Chris’s father."

"I’m having a little problem here in LA. Can you write out the results and fax them over?"

"Just give me a second."

Kent talked a little while longer and then hung up the phone. He turned and smiled at Chris as he walked over to the fax machine, which was busy spitting out pages. Walking back to the table with his little pile of papers, he made sure to make eye contact with the Maxwell lady. She didn’t look so confident now. He decided to call a private detective he had done business with in the past. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have someone check into this lady’s past, since she obviously had a vendetta against Meg and Chris. Also, it probably wouldn’t hurt to do some research on Meg’s family, since no one had a clue if she had any. He also noticed out of the corner of his eyes that both detectives were unsuccessfully trying to hide their smiles.

He stopped in front of the Child’s Service’s lady and placed the pages down . . . one by one. "Here is a copy of Meg’s Will designating my wife, Macy, and I as Chris’s legal guardians. This is a petition for temporary legal guardianship signed by a New Mexico state judge. And finally, here is a signed copy of the blood test ran by our family doctor verifying that Chris is my son. Do you need any more proof?" The last word came out condescending.

He heard Donatos let out a soft whistle of amazement. "You just found out about Chris yesterday . . . you move fast."

Kent looked at Chris and smiled softly. "I had to protect my own."

They were interrupted by the slamming of the door as Rita Maxwell stormed out of the office. Her leaving didn’t cause Chris any grief. Turning to Donatos, he asked, "can we go take care of Barry now?"

Donatos nodded his head and led Chris and Kent out of the office and down the hall, while Warner headed down a side passageway to go prepare the line up. Chris tuned out the detective and Kent as he psyched himself for the next hurdle.

Kent pumped Donatos for some more information about Chris’s life. As they walked, he softly asked the detective about Chris’s criminal past. Donatos looked at Chris, who seemed to be oblivious to what was going on around him. "Officially, juvenile records can’t be shared once cases are closed. Unofficially, I can tell you that Chris has never been arrested."

Kent realized that Donatos’ reply didn’t completely answer the question, but he didn’t push the detective. He had another subject that had to be discussed. "Where is Meg now?"

"She was sent to Smitherstine and Hooper Funeral Home. It is the closest to the morgue." As he had spokened, Donatos had dropped his voice to ensure that Chris wouldn’t overhear.

"I don’t want to put him through any more than he has to handle." Kent also kept his voice soft. "After we are done with Barry, would it be possible for you to keep him busy while I call and make arrangements?"

Donatos smiled softly. He hoped Chris realized what a great father he was getting. "No problem. I’ve discovered that ice cream is high on Chris’s list of favorites and there is a parlor right across the street."

They entered a dark room with a window facing a very well lit area. Donatos addressed Chris. "Remember, they can’t see you. Take as much time as you need." He then pushed a button that alerted Warner to bring the line up in. The seven men soon entered.

Chris waited until they had lined up under their numbers, before speaking. "Number three is Barry."

Even though there was no doubt in his voice, Donatos had to ask. "Are you sure?"

Chris nodded his head. "Yes, sir, Barry is number three." He stared at Barry with a gaze that didn’t wobble.

Kent studied the man that Meg had almost married. At six feet seven inches and about 250 pounds, he was huge and it didn’t look like fat. The brown shaggy hair that fell around his face and the day old beard gave him a rough look. This impression was reinforced by the many tattoos that climbed up his bare muscular arms. What the hell had Meg seen in him?

Donatos signaled Warner letting him know that he was done and that Chris had identified Barry. Since there was a chance that they could run into Barry as he was led to the cells, he decided to chill in the ID room for a little while. He turned to inform the Jordans of his decision, but the scene that greeted him gave him pause. Kent was standing beside a very tensed Chris, softly murmuring to him. As he watched, the boy slowly relaxed. "Are you okay, Chris?"

"Now that this is over, I am." He slowly sank down to sit in a nearby seat.

Kent decided that now would be a good time to bring up something else on his mind. "Is he going to need to testify when Barry goes to trial?"

Chris’s head came up as he waited for Donatos’ answer. "No, we have a couple of Meg’s fellow street walkers willing to testify. They too identified him earlier from a line up. We needed Chris’s ID, since he was the one that put a name to the face. We will also use Chris’s taped statement as evidence, since we don’t like putting juveniles on the stand. Barry will be locked away for a long time."

At that news, it was apparent to both men that Chris was greatly relieved. Kent glanced down at his son. "I need to make a couple of calls before we leave. Detective Donatos wants to treat you to ice cream while you wait."

Chris latched onto the diversion as he turned to Donatos. "The usual?"

Donatos grinned. "Of course, because as far as I’m concerned, they only serve Tremendous Terrific Triple-scooped Sundaes." He held open the door for Chris to go through. However, before leaving himself, he turned to Kent. "The number is in the Book, which you’ll find on the bookcase in my office."

As they made their way outside in comfortable silence, Chris was grateful for time away from Kent. His feelings for his father were mixed. Several times today, he had surprised Chris with his protective and caring support. The way he had put the Maxwell lady in her place still brought a smile to Chris’s face. But on the other hand, the fact that he had run a blood test to verify paternity without telling him irked. It wasn’t the fact that he had run the test, since Chris would have done the same in his position. That he had done it without his permission, like it was something to be hidden, was what had gotten his dander up. Also there was the way he so quickly pushed the buttons that dissolved his careful hold on his temper, like he had done at the doctor’s office. Something told him that wasn’t going to be an abnormal occurrence between him and Kent. He wondered if all children had problems like these with their dads. His relationship with his mom had been so different . . .

Lost in thought, he found himself in the ice cream shop with no memory of getting there. Realizing that he had crossed a busy avenue safely without being aware of it, he abruptly sat down at the nearest table as his legs gave out from under him.

"Are you okay?" Donatos’ voice was sharp with concern.

"Fine, just a little shaky."

Donatos smiled softly. "Doesn’t surprise me at all. Why don’t you sit while I order? Chocolate mint ice cream with hot fudge, correct?" Seeing, Chris’s nod, he headed for the counter. "Be back in a jiffy."

Chris used the next few minutes to reclaim his equilibrium. He also wondered about what phone calls Kent was making, since he obviously hadn’t wanted Chris to overhear.

Donatos sat down before sliding Chris’ Tremendous Terrific Triple-scooped Sundae over to him. Casually, he asked. "So what is your opinion of Kent?"

Chris ate a bite as he thought through his response. "He’s not what I had pictured. On the other hand, Macy and Derek, my oldest brother, are great."

The rest of their time eating was spent with Donatos asking about his impressions of his New Mexico home and with Chris answering as best as he could. All too soon, the ice cream was gone and Kent was entering the shop. Donatos shook Kent’s hand and then gave Chris a farewell hug. "You have my number. Give me a call every once in a while, so I know how you’re doing." Chris told Donatos that he would try, before following Kent out to the SUV.

Before he pulled out into the street, Kent turned to talk to Chris. "One of my calls was to the funeral home where Meg is. They are getting her ready for burial, but they need an outfit for her. Can you help there?"

Chris instantly thought of one of her more conservative dresses. It was a sun dress that matched her violet eyes. Chris had loved seeing her in it. He nodded his head. "Do they need anything else?"

Kent sighed, since he hated getting the boy involved in this. However, he really had no clue what Meg had liked, so he pulled out the list from his pocket and read it. "Shoes to go with the outfit, jewelry, make up, and anything else you think would make her look normal." He cringed at his choice of word, but Chris didn’t seem to notice. Kent softly suggested. "Let’s do a quick stop by the apartment, so you can get this stuff. And then we’ll drop it off at Smitherstine on our way to your school."

Chris gave him directions to the apartment. Glancing down at his watch, he thought of something. "It is almost three now, which means school will be out by the time we get there."

Kent nodded his head. "I know. I also called your school. Mr. Ampa, your principal, is gathering the information we need and he will be keeping an eye out for us."

Chris realized that this meant he wouldn’t be able to say good bye to some of his friends. However, enough of them lived in his apartment that they could pass on his leaving.

Kent didn’t see any empty spots close to the entrance of the building that Chris had given directions to, so he made a quick decision. "Why don’t you run in and gather what we need and I’ll drive around the block?" He didn’t wait for his son’s answer. He just pulled into a no parking zone and Chris quickly got out. As he pulled away, he could see Chris dashing up the steps into the building.

He made it to their apartment without running into anyone he knew. He didn’t worry about that, since he would be able to say good bye later when he had more time. It didn’t take too long to gather the dress and the matching shoes. He only debated a second on the jewelry, settling on the gold locket with his baby picture in it and her gold amethyst earrings.

As he headed for the bathroom to retrieve his mom’s "not working" make up kit, he tripped over his school bag. He realized that he would have to return his books, so he took a second to gather what had to go back to school. Then he made a quick stop in the bathroom to grab the make up. As he turned to lock the apartment, he recalled one other thing he needed. Quickly reentering, he went to the table between the beds. Opening the drawer, he carefully reached in and removed his mom’s Bible and deep purple beaded rosary. Despite his mom’s occupation, or maybe because of it, she had never missed Mass on Sunday, which meant that Chris had never skipped either. He left his rosary in the drawer for now and went to go meet Kent.

********

Kent was repulsed at the neighborhood his son had been raised in. Driving around the block, he had passed buildings in despair, mounds of trash piled in alleys, drunks and other homeless people littering the sidewalks, and one or two drug deals. Graffiti was covering almost every available wall space and he was positive he had seen several gang related graphics. But even in the middle of all the dirtiness, he saw a couple rays of light. Like the one simple spray painting of an angel hovering above the door of Meg’s apartment house. The angel wasn’t really big and whoever did it had to have been standing on the ledge below it or on a ladder, but in the small picture was a lot of depth. She looked like she was protecting the residents from any harm. The artist had caught her sad expression and made her eyes looking up, like she was calling for more help from above. He pondered that thought as he pulled into the no parking zone and got out to open the back door for the stuff in Chris’ hands. Seeing the dress Chris had picked, he silently agreed with his son’s choice. As Chris put the loaded book bag in, he raised his eye brow in question.

Chris supplied the answer as he walked around to his door. "Books that need to go back to school."

Once in the car, Kent once again bowed to Chris’ greater knowledge of the area. He pulled out the piece of paper he had written the address of the funeral home on. "Do you know where this is?"

Chris quickly read over it and nodded his head. The journey was quiet except for when Chris had to give him a change in direction. The building they parked beside was an older house painted in dull gray. The black shutters complimented the two story dwelling perfectly. Kent turned to address Chris, but his son spoke up before he could. "Kent, can I see her?" His eyes made unflinching contact with Kent’s.

Kent winced, since every instinct in his body was yelling, "NO!" The boy had enough sorrow to deal with today, maybe he could reason with him. "They won’t have her ready for viewing."

Chris didn’t release his penetrating look. "Can I see her?"

Kent realized then that Chris wasn’t going to take no as an answer. He also acknowledged that it might do some good, so he nodded his head.

Chris retrieved the items from the back and followed Kent into the building. If the funeral director was surprised by his request, it wasn’t apparent. He took the items from Chris and led the way to a back room. The air in the room was frigid, but Chris didn’t feel it. His eyes landed on the sheet draped body on the table and he walked to glance down at his mom. Some one had closed her eyes and it looked like she was sleeping. Chris smiled gently as he softly brushed her bangs off of her face. At the same time, he let his own fall across his. The curtain of hair helped cover the tears that had started to creep down his cheeks.

He realized that he was alone in the room, so he used the next few minutes to just observe his mom’s face, memorizing the features. Chris had always preferred her natural beauty, although his mom had much preferred to cover it up. Someone had removed her working make up, so she was in the natural state. He was glad that he had been able to see her like this. The creak of the door opening told him that someone had entered the room. He instinctively knew it was Kent. Without turning, he expressed his feelings aloud. "Even now, she’s beautiful."

Kent walked across the room and stood beside him. He too looked at Meg’s face and realized that he couldn’t argue with Chris’s statement. "Yes, she is beautiful." After a few moments of silence, he asked softly, "are you ready to go?"

Chris nodded his head and then left the room without looking back. Out in the hall, he saw that Kent hadn’t followed him. Turning, he glanced through the window on the door and saw Kent talking to his mom. Since he couldn’t hear what he was saying, curiosity and courtesy fought a small war, with politeness coming out the victor. He headed to the lobby to wait for Kent.

********

Kent waited until he heard the door close behind him, before he spoke to Meg. He knew that she couldn’t hear, but he had some things he needed to get off his chest and now seemed like a good time. "I have to ask myself why. Why did you put yourself and Chris through all this hardship, when you knew that Macy and I would have gladly helped? You said in your letter that you kept Chris a secret because you didn’t want to hurt us. Didn’t you realize that disappearing without telling anyone was far more damaging? I also have to ask myself, that if you hadn’t died, would I have ever of found out about Chris?"

"Chris . . . you were correct in your letter. He’s an extremely complex kid. Every time I think I got him figured out, he throws another curve ball at me. I hope you knew what you were doing, when you sent him to me. Don’t worry . . . I will do as you requested. I will protect and guide him, even if he seems to be a little hard headed."

Kent bent down and kissed her cold check before leaving. The director had told him that it would take only an hour to finish her up, then they would deliver her to the airport and Randy. She would be in the casket he had chosen ready for burial on the ranch. Macy would have made the arrangements with Pastor John Sanders this morning, so everything should be done by tomorrow. Entering the lobby, he found Chris silently waiting for him.

As they made for the truck, Kent mentally ticked off the rest of the errands they had to do. The list wasn’t too long . . . go to the post office and do a change of address request, go by the school to pick up Chris’ records and drop off the books, and then go back to the apartment to pack up whatever Chris wanted to save and to rearrange with the landlord about the disposal of the rest.

The trip to the post office and the school didn’t take too long. Mr. Alma had been waiting and, after exchanging items, had wished Chris the best of luck. It was close to four thirty six when they pulled back up to the apartment building. Kent debated all of two seconds before parking in the no parking zone. Something told him this minor infraction would be the least concern of any police officer. With night fast approaching on this late Autumn day, he didn’t want to be too far from the building. He double checked to verify he had locked the doors, before following Chris into the decrepit building.

Inside, he was amazed to discover just how well kept up it was. The walls were all painted in a neutral tan with paintings of the angel protecting each stair well door leading onto the various floors. In each picture, she was in a different pose. She was relaxing on a cloud laughing on the first door. Then on the second floor, she was sliding down a rainbow with a huge grin on her face, and on the third landing, she had a pensive look as she played a harp. Something else struck Kent about each of these renditions . . . they all resembled Meg, which reinforced his feelings that the artist lived in the building. Chris stopped at the third door and opened it heading down the hall. Kent glanced up the stairs and realized that there were two more stories which made him wonder what she was doing on those doors, but knew he didn’t have the time to go look. He followed Chris down to apartment 3F where his son stopped to remove a ring full of keys and began to unlock the multiple dead bolts on the door.

A voice behind Kent startled them both. "Little One, you’re okay!" Kent turned to see a little elderly lady with a cane standing in the doorway of apartment 3G. Her silver white hair was up in a severe bun and she had on glasses, which she squinted through as she took in the two of them. Before Chris could say anything, the woman spoke again. "So sorry to hear about Little One’s mommy. At first, I thought the devil winds had taken you too, but then my cards told me that you had gone on a quest." She stopped to concentrate on Kent. "Oh, now I understand. I had a dream last night that was confusing. It showed you returning today with a shadow that was taller and identical to you. That reminds me, I made some chocolate chip cookies for you to take with you. I’m sure going to miss you, Little One." With that the little old woman turned abruptly and reentered the apartment leaving the door open.

Kent turned to Chris in time to catch the smile on his face before it had vanished. Chris supplied the information he wanted before he could ask. "That was Mrs. Dorothy. Today was one of her good days, she didn’t mention her dead husbands’ ghosts."

"How did she know you were leaving? Did you run in to her on your first trip?"

"No," Chris answered as he turned to unlock the third and final lock. "With Mom gone, she knew I wouldn’t be staying."

Turning the handle, Chris let Kent enter first. He followed, leaving the door open. Before Kent could say anything, his son spoke up. "I’m going to go call a friend of mine. However, I want to run something by you first. Do you mind if I get rid of all the furniture pieces?"

Kent shook his head. "This is your stuff now . . . keep what you want and then get rid of the rest." Chris smiled and headed to the kitchen. Kent called after him. "Shouldn’t I shut the door?"

"No, trust me on this one."

Kent did just that as he took in his surroundings. He was standing in the hallway that split the living room and kitchen apart. The end of the hallway was where the bedroom was located. From where he was standing he could see all three rooms and noticed that the bathroom was connecting the bedroom and the kitchen.

Some pictures hanging on the walls of the living room caught his attention. He went in to investigate them closer. He studied them while he half listened to Chris on the phone. It took a minute for him to realize that Chris was talking in fluent Spanish. He filed this away for later. The pictures were all superbly done. There were several different mediums exhibited . . . watercolors, pastels, charcoal, oil paintings, ink drawings, and pencil etchings. The one that really grabbed his attention was a water color. It was a jungle scene with the centerpiece being a flowing waterfall, which was so realistic he could almost hearing the sound of the water crashing into the pond below. The animals peaking out of the foliage were so realistic they looked almost alive. There were exotic birds, monkeys, elephants, hippos, and a tiger. He could even see fish in the stream. Kent spotted the artist’s tag in the lower right hand corner. As he studied some of the other pictures, he noticed that they had all been done by the same person. He didn’t have much art knowledge, but he knew what he was seeing was rare since usually an artist excelled at one type of media. However this one could use them all with excellent skill. And he would bet his bank account that the person who had done these paintings was the same one who had done the angel portraits too.

Chris came out of the kitchen just as Mrs. Dorothy entered the apartment. She had left her cane behind since both hands were full with a box and a tray of cookies and candies. Chris quickly relieved her of her burden and was rewarded with a smile of gratitude. "The box is for you to take with you, Little One. The tray of goodies is for everyone else."

Kent had caught that last part as he came from the living room. But before he could ask about the "everyone else" part, Chris handed him the two items he was holding. His son spoke up. "That reminds me, Mrs. Dorothy. There is something I want to give you." He quickly turned and headed for the bedroom. In a few seconds, he was back with a necklace. It was a cameo on a thin gold chain. Every time his mom had worn it Mrs. Dorothy had admired it, so it was only fitting that he give it to her. Chris saw his friend start to shake her head. "Please, Mrs. Dorothy . . . I don’t have any need for it and I know Mom would have wanted you to have it."

The older woman didn’t hide her tears as she took the necklace from him and then came forward to embrace him. "Thanks, Little One." Her words were a whisper in his ear. Mrs. Dorothy quickly released him when the sound of running came from the hallway.

Kent watched in amazement as four boys about Chris’s age erupted into the apartment. They came to a screeching halt when they spotted Mrs. Dorothy and respectfully greeted her. She smiled as she said hello, calling them by their names. She started to leave, but stopped before she got to the door. "Little One, come see me before you take off." Then she continued back into her apartment. Kent noticed that she had left the door open again.

The boys greeted his son with several curious glances thrown in Kent's direction. As he listened to them, he was reminded of the past when Josh and Derek had groups of friends over.

"Chris, mi amigo, you’re okay." This came from one of the Latino boys.

"You had us worried, bro, disappearing like that." The tall American Indian kid said with a grin.

"Si, and with the cops knocking on doors asking about you . . . and then we’re told your mama was killed . . ." the other Mexican spoke up.

"Trust me . . . you’ve been the talk of the school the last couple of days." The Asian teen finished off his part with, "who’s that?" He was pointing at Kent.

Chris was smiling. There was a reason he enjoyed hanging with these guys. They could hold an entire conversation and Chris didn’t feel obligated to respond. And sometimes when he was called on to say something, one of the boys beat him to it, like now.

"Duh, Kai, that is his papa. He told me on the phone and I told you when I called." Carlos said indignantly.

"I know that. I was asking for a name, since it wouldn’t be nice to refer to him as Chris’s dad." Kai rolled his eyes.

Chris started to supply the name, but was interrupted before he could say anything. "When did you get a dad, anyway?" Miguel asked. "I thought you didn’t have one."

"Of course, he had one." Jimmy spoke up. "Where do you think his ma got him from . . . the baby store?"

Chris couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh and was quickly joined by Kent. During the conversation, he had watched Kent’s expression change from confusion to amusement. Their outburst finally shut up his friends, so he quickly made the introductions once he got control of himself. "Kent, I would like you to meet my friends . . . Kai Sahiko, Jimmy Ravenclaw, and Miguel and Carlos Diego . . . they’re twins. Guys, this is Kent Jordan."

Kent put down the goodies he was holding and shook the four boys’ hands. The teens immediately fixated on the tray of food. "Hey, is that for us?" Jimmy asked hungrily. Then again, Chris had never seen his tall friend full.

"Yeah, but don’t eat it all. We need to save some for everyone else."

From the apartment across the hall, Mrs. Dorothy’s voice called out. "Don’t worry, Little One, I have plenty more."

His friends took this to heart as they grabbed the sweet laden tray and carried it into the kitchen. Chris quickly stopped Carlos from following the others in as he hollered after them, "there’s milk in the fridge . . . it should still be good." He then addressed his friend. "Did you take care of the other things I asked?"

Carlos nodded his head. "Everyone else should be here shortly."

He smiled appreciatively and let go of his friend. "Go on, before Jimmy eats everything."

"I heard that," his friend yelled from the kitchen.

Before Chris could head after his friends, he was stopped by Kent’s hand. When his friends had shown up, Kent connected a couple of things in his mind and a light bulb had turned on. Now that he was temporarily alone with his son, he was going to see if his assumption was correct. He led the way into the living room. Glancing at the pictures, he verified that he had been right. Several of the pictures had people in various scenes that he had met today . . . the security team at the airport, Detective Donatos, Mrs. Dorothy, the four boys he had just met, and of course, Meg. All of which had one thing in common . . . which meant . . . "Did you do these?" Chris’s blush was enough of an answer. The awe that Kent was feeling was apparent in his voice. "Damn, you’re good."

Chris was saved by the arrival of several people. In the chaos that ensued Kent finally figured out that Chris’s friends’ families had arrived to help pack. They had arrived with several empty boxes and more food. He decided to stay where he was as Chris pulled his friends’ mothers to the side. He called Miguel out of the kitchen to help him. Señora Diego only spoke Spanish, which Chris could speak, but Mrs. Sahiko and Mrs. Ravenclaw were neither one fluent in the language. So Miguel translated into Spanish for his mom what Chris was telling the other two in English.

"My new home already has furniture, so I’m going to give my old stuff away. Mrs. Sahiko, I would like your family to get the two beds, since you need them. Mrs. Ravenclaw, Jimmy told me that your couch broke again last week . . . if you all want it, you can have it. Señora Diego, I would love to give you the dining room table and chairs . . . it has two leaves so all of your family can sit down at it. What I want are my pictures, my books, and my mom’s clown collection. The rest of the items are first come first serve, just let me know what you’re taking." He paused as he mentally ran through the apartment trying to see if he forgot something. His eyes landed on the bookcase that was in the living room with his book collection on it. Memories came back as he recalled he and his mom finding it at a garage sale and lovingly sanding it down to it’s grain. Then they had restored it with some varnish. It was just small enough to fit in the SUV. "The bookcase is mine too." He looked at the three women that had been as much a mom to him as his own. They were all blinking away tears. "I greatly appreciate everything you’ve done for me." His voice broke as the three woman gathered him in a smothering hug. Then they let go of him and started to bark out orders to the waiting family members.

Before Señora Diego could disappear, Chris waylaid her. He led her to the bedroom, stopping long enough to yell at Jimmy to grab a couple of garbage bags from under the sink and bring them to the room. This next part was going to be difficult for him, but it had to be done. He didn’t sense Kent following him. Entering, he spoke rapidly to her in Spanish. Jimmy came up behind Kent and, seeing his confusion, translated for him. "He is telling her to help herself to any and all of Meg’s clothes. The Diegos have several females in their family . . . actually out of their ten kids, Miguel and Carlos are the only boys." As the older Spanish woman started filling one of the garbage bags with Meg’s clothes, Chris went over to the jewelry box and sorted through it. He removed a couple of the necklaces and earrings, which he placed in one of his clean socks. He then gave the jewelry case to her too. He grabbed one of the other bags and began to pack the rest of his clothes. Kent seeing he was not needed here, left to go help out whereever he could. He helped move the couch up to the next floor amid a lot of Spanish, Japanese, and American curse words. The dining room table and chairs had to go down to the second floor. He of course had to help with the bookcase which was heavier than it actually looked. It took several attempts to get it to lay down correctly . . . by that point, he knew some of the more popular Spanish and Japanese curse words and were using them with his English ones. Luckily there were enough people helping that no one had to take a lot of trips down the steps when it came time to load the boxes of paintings, clowns, and books. While they were busy doing that, Kai’s and Jimmy’s fathers took apart the beds. So then he helped move the mattresses down the hall to the Sahikos’ apartment after all of the boxes had been snugly packed into the SUV. Within a shorter time than he had anticipated, he and Chris were standing in the middle of an empty clean apartment, since the teenage Mexican girls had swept and washed down each room after it had been cleared. All of the extra people had left, with a lot of tears and hugs for Chris from the females, except for his four friends who were across the hall at Mrs. Dorothy’s helping themselves to more sweets.

Kent could see Chris was fighting tears as he walked around the empty rooms, checking to make sure nothing was missing. He felt the boy’s sorrow but couldn’t think of anything to say or do to ease it. A knock on the outside of the door jam pulled his attention away from his son. Turning, he saw an older man that he hadn’t met yet. Chris’s voice from the other room gave him an identity. "That’s Mr. Mike, the super of the building."

Kent waved him in, glad that he had made an appearance. It saved him from asking Chris where to find him, since he had been the last thing on Kent’s to do list before heading back to the airport.

"Hi, I’m Kent Jordan, Chris’s dad." He held out his hand in greeting.

The bald man smiled and shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you, they call me Mike."

"I was just coming to find you . . . what do I need to do to settle Meg’s bill?"

"Not a thing, my friend." Before Kent could argue, he explained. "For the last couple of months, Chris has been doing his angel paintings in exchange for rent. As it stands now, I owe him for one month." He quickly removed the money from his pocket and gave it to an amazed teen. He waved away the words of thanks. "A bargain is a bargain . . . as for the utilities, I’ll call the companies tomorrow and get them switched to my name." He took the keys that Chris offered to him and followed them out the door. After locking up the apartment, he shook Chris’s hand. "It has been a pleasure working with you . . . your talent is going to be missed." Then he was gone.

Chris took a second and realized that not only did Mr. Mike refund a month worth of rent, he had also given back the deposit that his mom had put on the apartment. He smiled softly, because this meant that he wouldn’t need to ask the Jordans for money for a while. He put the money in his wallet before entering Mrs. Dorothy’s home to say good bye to the rest of his LA friends.

A short while later, after exchanging addresses with everyone including Mrs. Dorothy, he and Kent were back in the SUV heading for the airport. Chris leaned his head against the window glad that night had fallen as he finally let the tears fall. He was grateful that Kent didn’t try to speak to him on the drive back.

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