PROLOGUE

Gifts are funny things. We give, we receive, we exchange, we re-gift, and in some cases, we de-gift.

Do you remember every gift you've received over the years? I sure don't. Do you still have any of the gifts you've been given over the years? Of course you do.

Knick-knacks and books fill our shelves, pictures and sconces line our walls. Collectibles collect dust and color our worlds, while sweaters and socks fill our laundry baskets.

Have you discovered a gift from years ago that evoked such strong memories that it brought tears to your eyes? Or changed your destiny?

This is where our story begins, after 20 years a long ago treasured gift was rediscovered and the memories that were brought forth had the strength to change the world.

Here let me show you:


Lawrence, Kansas

January 24, 1983

"Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Dean. Happy Birthday to you."

A chorus of voices, both adult and child sang out loudly in the small white kitchen of the Winchester house.

Dean sat smiling, eyes wide with mischief as he chomped to blow out all 4 of the candles on his cowboy birthday cake. His eager green eyes moved to the mountain of gifts on the counter behind his daddy, the biggest daddy in the whole world.

Now it was a contest between the candles and the wrapping paper, which thing did he want to tear into first?

"Make a wish, sweety," his mommy, the most prettiest mommy in the whole world, whispered in his ear, tickling his ear.

Dean took in the deepest breath his little lungs could hold and blew it out, sounding like a giant raspberry. All 4 candles flickered and went out. Everyone cheered!

Mary, Dean's mommy, whisked the cake away and daddy started putting presents in front of him. Not caring who gave him what gift, Dean tore into the first present, then the next, the next, and on and on it went. Soon, Dean was surrounded by toy guns, cars, motorcycles, remote control trucks and helicopters, and mountains of wrapping paper.

Mommy served everyone cake and chocolate ice cream and when everyone was done eating, "Mommy, we're playin' now." Dean hopped down and went to run out of the kitchen.

Mommy grabbed him around his waist, "Hang on there, Sheriff Chocolate Face. Let me clean that mustache and beard you have first." She had a moist paper towel and wiped his face before he had time to protest. She grabbed him in a fierce hug, "Happy birthday honey."

Dean hugged her enormous belly, "Happy birthday, Sammy."

Mary and John laughed as they watched their son run out of the room, guns blazing at dinosaurs stampeding in the play room!

Soon parents started arriving to collect their children after a day full of sugar and play. Dean stood at the door saying bye's and thank you's with mommy standing beside him offering up gentle reminders.

"Did you have a good day, Dean?" Mommy asked.

"It was fun!" Dean ran off to his room and Mary watched him, a curious expression on her face that she replaced with a smile when John walked in the room.

He stroked the small of her back, "Did he call the baby Sammy?"

Mary laughed, "You just realized? He asked if he was having a brother or a sister and I told him it was a surprise. He wanted to know what the baby's name was. And I told him the baby didn't have one yet. He was pretty concerned that the baby wasn't named yet. The other night, he woke up scared, again, and when I went in his room he had my photo album. How'd he get that, John? Anyway, we sat and looked through the pictures and I explained that he was named after my mom and he said that the baby should be named, Sammy, after my dad, that it was only fair. I asked him what if he had a sister? He just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Oh well. The baby's name is Sammy." He went back to sleep after that."

John gave Mary a scratchy kiss on her cheek, "He asked to see the pictures. I didn't think he'd hurt it, Mar. Hmmm, Sam…Sammy…yeah, that could work. He's been waking up an awful lot lately. Do you think something's wrong with him?"

Mary gave him a tired smile, "No. I'm sure it's just a phase. Anyway, I think I've worked out something to make him feel safe enough where he won't have to yell out for one of us, every night," Mary gave her husband a playfully accusatory glance.

John gave Mary an affectionate pat on her butt and went to the kitchen to start cleaning up the remnants of the birthday festivities. She watched his back retreat and sighing deeply, turned, crossed to the hall closet and reached above her head to the shelf and grabbed the rectangular package she bought on impulse a few days before.

Dean was playing in his room in the middle of the floor. Army men lay strewn in precarious positions, so that Mary had to watch where she stepped. She sat on his bed and watched him, smiling.

"Hey, baby boy. Come sit next to me."

Dean rolled his green eyes, "Mooom, don't call me that in front of the guys."

Mary laughed, but said seriously, "Oh. Oh, sorry. I forgot. Uh…Dean, sir, would you sit next to me, please, sir."

Blowing a raspberry, Dean got up and plopped on the bed next to his mom. He leaned over her swollen belly and yelled, "Hey, Sammy!"

Mary laughed again, "Still sticking with Sammy, huh?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders, "That's what his name is."

Mary furrowed her brow, "The baby's a boy? How…how do you know, Dean?"

He shrugged his shoulders again, "He told me."

Mary's brow continued to knit in worry, but she brushed it off as best she could and pulled the gift out from behind her back, "I forgot about this one."

Dean took the gift and just as enthusiastically as the very first gift of the day, tore at the paper to get at the surprise inside.

"Whoa! Walka-Tonka's! Cool!"

Mary laughed, "Walkie-Talkie's honey. They are called Walkie-Talkie's." She opened the package and pulling batteries from the pocket of her maternity top, she placed two in each transmitter. "Now, I'm going to keep one by my side of the bed and you can keep yours under your pillow. Whenever you get scared Dean, any time you get scared, you press this button and call my name. I will always be here to keep you safe. As long as you have this no monsters will ever get you. Okay?"

Dean's brow knitted together as he inspected the transmitter in his small hand. He took a deep breath and looked up at his mother with a serious expression, "What about Sammy?"

Mary regarded Dean for a few seconds, "What…uh…what do you mean, 'What about Sammy?' honey?"

"Will these Wonka-Talkers keep Sammy safe from monsters too?"

"Walkie-Talkie's honey. Dean, as long as mommy's safe, Sammy's safe. Mommy won't let monsters get you or Sammy, okay, honey? Okay? Do you understand? Mommy will always keep you safe. I promise." Mary squeezed Dean's shoulders in a side hug and kissed the top of his head.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, "Okay." He slid the transmitter under his pillow and went back to his army men.


This is where our story truly begins, with the locating that once treasured gift I previously mentioned, long forgotten due to the tragic events only a mere 10 months after this day; the last happy birthday in a little boy's memory.

Can a cheap plastic toy change the course of one person's destiny?

A whole family's destiny?

The world's destiny?

Excellent questions all.

The answers may just surprise you.