Valentine Santa
Amanda
Author's Note and Disclaimer: Everyone except the angel and the felines belongs to Fox studios and R.A. Dick's estate. Thank you to Mary for being a marvelous beta. This is not a Day On story.
Few things in life, or afterlife, could cow Daniel Gregg.
Having an angel appear before him as he sat at his desk in the wheelhouse was among them.
"Do not be afraid," the majestic being commanded.
Though at any other time, the Captain would have taken umbrage at the suggestion that he of all beings might feel fear, in this instance, the thought never occurred to the ghost to argue that he was without the feeling. Rather, he humbly lowered his head and attempted to obey. "Might I be of service?" he managed to ask.
"That is why I have come," the messenger replied and began to speak.
Some hours later, after the heavenly emissary had departed and he had gotten himself together, Daniel transported himself shakily to the Master Cabin.
"Oh, good afternoon, Captain," his lovely tenant, Carolyn Muir, said with a smile as she paused in her hemming. "I trust I wasn't stitching too loudly?"
"What? Oh, not at all, Madam. I simply came down to inform you that I might be somewhat unavailable for a short time, and since the family does rely upon my guidance, felt it would be remiss of me not to share the news."
Carolyn's gaze sharpened. There was something off, something different about this whole event. "Captain? Is something wrong?"
He smiled thinly. "You need not worry, my dear lady. But, I suppose you are owed an explanation, if for no other reason than to tell the children and Martha. First, I must go on a slight tangent from the main course and fill you in on some history."
"What's the town gotten wrong this time?"
Daniel almost chuckled at that. "To my knowledge, their historical accuracy need not be questioned at this time. This is spectral history to which I refer. You see, my dear, it is not at all usual for those who depart from life to enter into a ghostly existence." Carolyn nodded, fascinated as she was drawn into his tale. "Those of us who are left on this side of the veil remain here knowing that we are under a perpetual --- in Celtic terms --- gaes, which makes us ever-available to be used by God in a sub-angelic capacity. Angels are not dead people."
"I'd have never guessed that," Mrs. Muir quipped under her breath.
"Madam," he chided, and she made a show of zipping her lip. "As I was saying, angels are not the dead, but their own beings. However, due to the gaes it has come to be believed that they might be, because the Departed are obligated to do the small kindnesses that take little energy, but are not lofty enough deeds to require such magnificent entities to perform them. We are rather like the army reserve, called out only in special circumstances. Every time a holiday approaches, since the word itself is a contraction of "holy day," ghosts are liable to be tagged for duty. However, since you could make a case on any day for it to be a holiday of some sort; that might or might not have true meaning. I have only been required to step up to my duty once or twice over the last century, and now am being drafted once more, since Valentine's Day is upon us. I can assure you I will do my utmost to fulfill my chore speedily, but my attendance to home life will be of a lesser degree until such time."
After absorbing this, Carolyn asked, "What is your task?"
Her pragmatic lack of female histrionics pleased the seaman. "I have yet to learn exactly," he confessed, tweaking one ear.
"Oh. What have you had to do before, then?"
At times, Mrs. Muir was much like her children, eager to be entertained by one of his stories, though she did prefer he stick more closely to the facts than Jonathan or Candy would have it. For those two, the more embellished the better.
"Nothing spectacular, at least as far as I could see," he shrugged modestly. "I was not called upon to say, defeat a Spanish Armada. Such grand gestures are reserved for true angels."
"Are you saying that Elizabeth's defeat of the Spanish Armada was supernatural?" Carolyn demanded.
"I frankly do not know, but it does seem to be, on the surface. Now, Madam, if there are no further rabbit trails---"
"Of course, go right ahead," she nodded.
"One time, I simply had to guide a troop of lost cub scouts back onto their proper course. I believe that might have been the first appearance of Danny the Lobsterman; it was a handy trick to remember when Doctor McNally showed up, putting on another face."
Tacitly, the young widow nodded her agreement, determined not to interrupt him again.
"Then, there was the time a lost horse wandered onto my property. At the time, Claymore's great-grandfather was occupying Gull Cottage, despite my best efforts to oust him." He shook his head. "Frankly, Madam, the first two or three decades of being a ghost are sheer Hades. One has no idea HOW to control their powers. Being a spirit does not come with a guidebook." He grimaced. "Now who's going down rabbit trails? Well, Grandfather Gregg wanted to claim the steed and turn a profit on it. I simply opened its stable, untied it, and watched over the poor creature until its true owner, a young eloping couple, found it." He frowned. "I believe that their descendant is none other than Martha's quivering, cherry pie eating, swain."
Carolyn grinned, "How marvelous! I bet Ed wouldn't be so scared if he knew the only reason he was born was thanks to your help. His grandparents might have been stopped and never gotten married if you hadn't returned that horse to them."
"No good deed goes unpunished. Well, the only other case I've worked, simply involved allowing a runaway child to spend the night here, and not allowing him to leave until his very worried father could track him down." Seeing her look of concern, he added, "My dear, the child was running away because he fancied that now that his adoptive parents had been blessed by a surprise birth, they would not want him. There was no abuse from which he fled. You've read too many gothic novels."
"So, we might be having guests soon," Carolyn shrugged.
"Or perhaps not," he countered. "It will be my mission, not yours. Whether or not help is allowed on these things, I do not know, but I do not doubt my ability to handle things."
"If you have to be away, I suppose you won't be here for Valentine's Day?" Carolyn blurted, coloring prettily as the words escaped her. "I. just hoped you and I might spend a little time together."
Slightly startled, but pleased, the ghost stared a moment and then smiled. "I will have even more incentive to make sure I attend to business hastily as is possible, my dear."
"I didn't mean." Carolyn turned redder. "I know whatever Heaven needs you to do has to take first place, but."
"I have always taken pride in attending to my chores with alacrity," Daniel assured her.
"Yes, you mentioned that when we were working on your memoirs. I think it was when we discussed Figg's version of your attention to duty versus---"
"---Versus reality," he firmly stated.
"Yes. And, you know Martha and the kids will be devastated if you aren't here. I'm sure Candy and Jonathan are cooking up some little surprise."
"Hmm, I will have to see if I can find a surprise for them as well, perhaps from my sea chest. There's bound to be something," he mused. "Speaking of the children, it occurs to me that they might want another pet. As you are aware, both of them took to Moby-Sheila, then, they did try to keep Algae last year, and from time to time, each of them has come home with injured birds, frogs, and I believe it was Candy who brought in a rabbit in need of nursing not two weeks ago."
"Yes," Carolyn grimaced. "I know they love Scruffy, but he does seem to be more Jonathan's dog than anyone else's. If we must add another, I'd opt for something a little less massive than Sheila, or wild than what's come home so far."
"I had a baby cougar, briefly," the Captain mused. "And baby gators, but in both cases, had to let them go free before they matured."
"I should hope so! I know Martha would not want a reptile, but maybe a cat, as long as it doesn't have fangs," Carolyn cautioned. "Would you be all right with that, if it came to pass?"
"Oh, yes, my dear; though Gull Cottage has no mice, cats can be useful. I always had one on my ships."
"I suppose their being cute and cuddly was not a factor in your decision?" Carolyn found herself teasing.
"Not at all," the seaman huffed. "I prefer to cuddle something a bit more human." An impish grin lit his face. "Have I mentioned of late, Madam, that there are times when you might be considered somewhat cute?"
As Carolyn turned deep red, the ghost made his exit with an inaudible pop.
Sighing, she protested to the empty air, "That is not fair, Captain!"
XXX
As dawn broke on February fourteenth, the Captain received his assignment, delivered by carrier-dove. He had to read the tiny scroll twice before he could believe what it said, but with a shake of his head and shrug, he popped down to the beach. Sure enough, he found exactly what the parchment had promised he would, a bedraggled Mama cat and three kittens. Although the eldest of the four looked to be a pure-bred Persian, it only took a glance to see that the trio of youngsters had a father that was from, shall we say, the wrong side of the tracks?
"Well, little ones, you have Daniel Gregg's vow to find you a home," the Captain promised as he extended a hand to them. Fortunately, his ability to become solid had been increased of late. The ghost wished that he could prevail upon Mrs. Muir to assist him in this task, but his instructions were to do it on his own.
At first, he had found the assignment hard to believe; it just seemed so odd, so he had not adequately prepared. Now that he had seen the truth of it though, Daniel popped back home long enough to procure a basket in which to place the little family and a bit of milk and tuna for the kittens and their mother, respectively. After feeding them, the ghost managed to get them into the basket. Donning his "Danny" face, he popped. cats in tow, to Schooner Bay proper.
Hours dragged by as the Captain moved through the town, trying to determine where would be the best home for each kitten. It was proving to be a discouraging task until around noon; he stopped in at the General Store in time to see Millie Applegate, a distant cousin of the late Elroy Applegate and the current phone operator, exiting, carrying with her a small bouquet of yellow roses.
"Sad, really," Ollie Wilkins noted to Norrie. "Millie's a sweet gal, but I've never seen anyone as lonesome as she is. I bet she'd hardly talk to anyone if it weren't for that phone job, and with direct dial starting to come in. I feel bad for her. You know, those roses are for her, from her."
The words struck Daniel's hidden, soft heart. They also gave him an idea. Unobtrusively, he caused a piece of Candy's notebook paper and a pencil from the desk she and Jonathan shared to appear in his pocket. He then followed Millie home, keeping just enough distance so as not to seem to be doing that.
Hastily, the seaman scribbled a note, "Happy Valentine's Day, Millie. This wee one needs someone to love him. Please accept this kitten from your unseen friend."
Then, gingerly, he tied a makeshift collar of yarn around the male kitten that seemed to be an extra fluffy tabby more than a Persian, affixed the note to it, silently ordered the kitten to sleep until Millie picked it up, and placed it on her doorstep. Then, he knocked loudly before making a quick escape.
One down, three to go.
As the spirit considered who was next to be blessed with a new pet, he thought of something. It would be most advisable to not give one of his charges to the person who had callously abandoned them to the elements. What he'd like to give such a heartless wretch was something far less pleasant.
It occurred to him then that Claymore might know who owned such a valuable cat as the mother. Then, unbidden, he recalled something else. His mind wandered back in time to a day when his dear aunt had told him that everything in Creation had a purpose to it, even if it was hard to discern. He had asked what use pets were, because the elderly cat and dog she kept and spoiled a little did seem rather useless. Neither was spry enough to play, much less catch mice or chase off anyone who needed to be.
Her reply had been that pets taught humans how to love for no reason at all. It made sense, even then, and did now. Though the memory did not solve the question of who might be the guilty party, it did give him an idea about who needed such a lesson.
On that thought, Daniel made his next stop Claymore Gregg's office.
As the Captain appeared, his 'nephew' paled, letting out a choked, incoherent protest.
"Happy St. Valentine's Day, Claymore," Daniel smiled.
"Er… ah… uh… The same to you," the lanky miser managed to get out. "Ah… ulp… what can I… er… do for you, sir? And, why don't you ever knock?" The final sentence was replete with frustration and whininess.
"My hands are rather full at the moment," the seaman replied smoothly. "It is not what I need from you, but what I wish to do for you."
"You brought me my thirty-seven-fifty?" Claymore asked hopefully. "You are aware that it's been two years, and the interest has accrued to---"
"No, I brought you something far better, of more lasting value. I am aware that I surely forfeited the parasol by this time and quite understand if you wish to claim it as your own property now."
Now, looking utterly annoyed, Claymore snapped, "Like I have any use for THAT thing? Hardly; my complexion isn't THAT fair, you know."
"But, a sunburn on the top of your head might be most uncomfortable," was the amused rejoinder.
"I never thought of that!" There was a pause, then he continued, "But, it's too frilly, and I'd rather have the money."
"Sorry, I'd have to borrow my money from you to pay it back to you," the Captain shot back, striving for politeness. One should not abuse one's relations, however faux, when on an angelic mission. It just seemed out of place. "Let's not get into that AGAIN. I simply want to bring you a gift, a Valentine's gift, if you will."
Claymore's eyes brightened. "A gift? For me? From you? What's the catch?"
"My only condition is that you provide her with love, good care, and affection," Daniel answered as he removed the largest of the kittens from the basket.
"A kitten? I was hoping for gold or more scrimshaw," Claymore pouted.
"Trust me; you will reap far greater benefits in the long run from having this little thing in your life. If you actually are a Gregg, then my late Aunt Violet is also your late aunt, and her advice was always sound. She maintained that God made pets to teach us love by giving us unconditional love. Do you not long for that?"
"Well… yeah, I guess," Claymore wavered. "You know, my bird passed away, just a few weeks ago. He's not a spook bird, is he?"
"I have not seen him. My condolences," Daniel sympathized.
"It was a good run; I guess everyone has to go sometime, even birds."
"So you see, as usual, my timing is impeccable," the Captain smirked.
Half-reluctantly, Claymore took the proffered kitten. "Say, where did you get this?" He hesitated before fully accepting the feline tyke, not willing to bring stolen cats into his home.
"They were wandering loose on the beach, clearly abandoned. I don't suppose you know who would turn out a mother Persian who had birthed some mongrels?"
After a bit of thought, Claymore came up with, "There was that family that moved a week or so ago. I could have sworn they had a cat, but Ed Peavey and Harv mentioned it was nowhere to be seen when they helped load the moving van. The folks were just staying here for a short time, like a temporary transfer from the husband's job, I think." He shrugged. "Guess it was easier to leave the cat and hope she found someplace to live when they left."
"Heartless fiends," was the Captain's response. "They don't deserve a pet."
"But you think I do?" Claymore queried the seaman, cuddling his kitten close. "Say, what do I feed her, anyway? Milk?"
The Captain smiled. "She has been weaned. As I understand it, from what Candy has told me... her friend Tricia has a cat... too much cow's milk can actually upset their stomach. Gives them diarrhea. I believe kitten food, both wet and dry, is called for. And Claymore, I happen to know the general store has a good sale going on at the moment."
"Could I take her with me?" the other man asked, as the kittenyawned. "I don't want to disturb her. She's sweet."
"That's between you and Mr. Wilkins. Now, my task is not yet done, so I will bid you good day and, Claymore, I am most pleased with your response."
With that, he vanished again.
XXX
On the one hand, Daniel could consider himself half-done, and that was pleasing. On the other hand, he still had two felines to find proper homes for, and no idea to who they should go.
The seaman found himself wandering through the pink and white decorated town, searching passers-by, trying to determine just from their expressions or their manner of walking what sort of person they might be, who might have a place in their heart for a new pet.
As Daniel neared the park where the statue of himself had been erected in lieu of Figg's after the other man's blatant cowardice had been revealed, he caught sight of the last person he'd expect to see contemplating a monument to Captain Gregg: Miss Elvira Grover.
Instinctive politeness prompted Daniel to tip his hat to the older lady. "Good afternoon, Ma'am, and a happy Valentine's Day to you."
She looked up abruptly. "Oh, hello… Ah… good afternoon and happy Valentine's Day to you as well. Do I know you?"
"Oh, I'm sure you don't know me, but everyone surely knows you, Miss Grover," the Captain replied. Since he had come to the park to let the remaining cats gets some air, he went ahead and opened the basket so as to take them into his arms.
"What have you there?" Miss Grover asked.
"Oh, just a pair of abandoned cats I found and am trying to situate in a good home, or homes," the seaman remarked.
"I see. They certainly are pretty," Miss Grover said almost reluctantly.
"Yes. Of course, such pedigreed felines would be unsuitable for ship's life," Daniel shook his head. "These two are meant to be pets, not workers."
"You're a seaman? How interesting. My… oh, forget it. It turns out my noble ancestor was not so very noble. I'm surprised you would talk to me, the town pariah," the lady concluded wryly.
"You? Pariah? My good woman, I hardly think so. One cannot be judged by the actions of their relatives, for good or ill." He certainly hoped that was true! "I doubt anyone can honestly see you as having just cause for shame simply because of an ancestor."
She thought about it and then shrugged. "Perhaps you are right, but if that's the case, I've wasted months trying to avoid the stares."
She's lonely, Daniel realized. Startled that he cared, the ghost found himself asking, "Perhaps you would like to have the mother cat? I think I know someone who would enjoy a kitten, but this dear lady needs a place where she will be loved, and you seem to be able to give that."
Elvira looked uncertain. "I don't know. I was never allowed a pet as a child."
"You are an adult now; don't you think it's time to rebel, just a little?"
A determined expression came over her mien. "You know, you are right, Mr. …?"
"Daniels," the Captain beamed as he handed the largest bit of fluff over to her new owner. "Thank you, kind lady, for helping out a poor lost soul. I'd best be on my way now. Bless you, Ma'am." With a smile, he nodded and walked away before she could change her mind.
XXX
Before delivering the final kitten, Daniel had a few errands to run. After making a visit to Deke Tuttle's antique shop and exchanging a gold coin for cash, he made several stops and then headed home.
The children were just finishing their homework at the kitchen table as he landed.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Captain!" they chorused.
"We missed seeing you before we left for school," Candy added with a tiny frown.
"I had some business to attend to," the ghost explained.
"Mom told us about the angel; it's cool," Candy's frown turned into a grin.
"What do angels look like? Are they dead people or are dead people ghosts and angels something else?" Jonathan demanded.
"Angels are beyond mortal description, but trust me, Jonathan, they have never been human. I do not know how to explain the experience of seeing one," the seaman answered. "Therefore, I shall pass out the loot."
"Loot?" Martha asked, looking up from supper preparations.
"Yes, Martha, I come bearing gifts," the Captain grinned. "If you would prevail upon Mrs. Muir to join us, I will begin." Without being told, Jonathan and Candy bolted off to get their mother. As soon as the entire family was assembled, Daniel began. "Jonathan, I believe you might want to share this with the rest of the family," he began as a huge box of chocolates appeared in the boy's hands. "Or rather, they might wish you to."
"Oh, boy! Thank you, Captain!"
"Now, whose turn?" the Valentine Santa mused in a teasing tone. "Oh, yes, Martha, your package is next." A bright pink and deep red box containing bath products, especially a subtly scented bath soak, was presented to her.
"Thank you, Captain!" the housekeeper exclaimed, "I can't wait to try them!"
"Now, Scruffy," the ghost continued. A small jar of pigs' ears came out of nowhere to land on the table. "The gentleman at the pet shop said that these are far better for dogs than rawhide or bones, but you will find a nice roast with a good bone in it in the refrigerator, Martha."
"Thank you, again, but what about Mrs. Muir?" Martha asked.
"I was coming to her," he smirked as a bouquet of roses and gardenias seemed to blossom on its own in his hands so that he could hand it to the lady. "Of course, they pale beside to you, my dear."
"Thank you, Captain," Carolyn buried her nose in the blossoms, hoping the spirit could not see the blush she knew was appearing on her cheeks.
"Now, for the final gift, Candy, you are going to help me complete my mission." He frowned. "Blast, I forgot it, or did I? It might be in my pocket."
Something about his stance or his voice compelled her to walk up to the spirit and glance into his pocket, without being invited to do so. A small shriek escaped her when she saw eyes shining out of the depths. "I think you've got a rat in your pocket!"
"Do I?" He reached inside and drew out the last kitten, the one that most closely resembled its mother. "Oh dear; and I thought it was."
"A kitten? Is. is it for me?"
"It most surely is, dear girl," Daniel smiled as he transferred it to her custody. Immediately, Candy began to cuddle the wee thing.
"Your name is Valentine," she whispered.
"I did get all it will need while I procured your other gifts," the ghost added.
"Thank you, Captain," echoed around the room, but from Candy came the most breathless and heartfelt utterance.
Carolyn found herself brushing back a tear as her eyes met Daniel's. Having this man love her children so much, her entire family so much, said more than the grandest of romantic gestures.
XXX
When the Captain stopped into 'their' cabin to wish her a good night before assuming his watch on the widow's-walk, Carolyn's eyes still shone as she looked at him.
"Madam, if it is not too forward, may I say you have never looked lovelier," he gravely informed her, regretting deeply that they were separated by lifetimes.
"Words like that are always welcome," she blushed. "If I may say so, you have never appeared nobler than you did today. Your---" she broke off, knowing he would bristle at the suggestion of being "kind" or "nice." She would not even contemplate "sweet." "Your Good Samaritan gestures shed new light on how magnificent your soul is," she finished. "I'm naturally delighted that Candy was made so happy, but that you were able to extend that graciousness to Miss Grover and Claymore as well. I'm awed."
Though unable to flush, the ghost gave a good impression of it as he blustered, "It simply seemed the right, not to mention efficient, thing to do at the time."
"Of course."
Neither was fooled for a second.
Nor, would it seem, was Heaven. Barely had the words been spoken when a dove fluttered into the room through the open French doors to deposit another scroll in the Captain's hand.
"What?" he asked as it fluttered away into the night sky. Confused, he unrolled the scroll, read the words and then crossed the room to stand before Mrs. Muir. "Would you permit me?" he murmured, dipping his head in what could only be a maneuver to claim a kiss.
She might have whispered yes, but he could see it on her face.
Long moments later when they parted, she asked, "How...?"
"This scroll says that I have been given the ability to be almost human when in the company of mortals, thanks to my kindness to former foes," the seaman explained. "Though I do not truly get to live again," he paused, tweaking one ear thoughtfully, "there are certainly new horizons available to me, for us even, now."
"In that case, sir, you owe me at least two more Valentine's Day kisses," Carolyn replied. "You missed the first two."
"I am always happy to pay such a debt."
END