GIVING UP
1-1-08/Tuesday afternoon, Hogan County Hospital...
The stretcher bursts through the emergency room doors, attended by two paramedics…
"Gunshot victim, female aged 47, heavy bleeding from a right shoulder wound. B.P. 90 over 60, pulse 45 and thready. Labored breathing."
"Trauma room one, type and match for blood."
Helen Girardi, pale and breathing hard under an oxygen mask, is wheeled into a room where a medical team is already waiting for their patient. A minute later, a police escort leads the Girardi family Volvo to the emergency entrance. The entire family rushes inside while one of the uniformed officers kindly parks the car for the family. Even as the Volvo pulls away, the first of the TV news vans arrives…
"Keep those jackals out of here." Will orders.
"You got it, Chief." One of the uniformed officers replies.
For a moment the family looks about, wondering what to do next. The hospital's administrator approaches…
"Will, I'm so sorry to hear the news. Be assured Helen is receiving the finest medical care available in the city."
"Thank you Dr. Presley." Will responds, familiar with this woman in her additional role as a city council member.
"Obviously it is too soon to give you any news, but I promise we will have a preliminary report within the next 20 minutes. In the meantime, we have set aside a waiting room just for you and your family."
Will and the rest of the stunned Girardi family follow Dr. Presley to a large, comfortable room just down the corridor. With a last word of encouragement and support Dr. Presley exits, leaving the Girardis sitting alone. Will watches the corridor, seeming to compel through sheer willpower, someone to come forth with good news. Joan sits alone in a corner feeling guilty. This is her fault. If she hadn't gotten drunk, if she had been on her game, that crazy teenager with the revolver never would have gotten near her family.
Kevin sits next to his father, ready to offer whatever moral support he can. E.T. sleeps peacefully in Kevin's arms. In another corner, Luke, Grace and Annie sit as a group. Luke and Grace are silent and unmoving, but Annie looks about with curiosity. She can sense the mood of the room and begins to feel guilty. This is all her fault…
"Daddy, I'm sorry."
"About what, Annie?"
"For forgetting. I was suppose to tell Grandma not to go – that Yah-Yah said so."
Grace sighs. "Annie, not now. None of us are in the mood to listen to stories about your imaginary friend."
Annie nods, knowing her Mama doesn't like hearing about Yah-Yah. Besides, it is too late now. Grandma is hurt and it's all her fault. Annie begins to softly weep.
Grace notices and takes her daughter into her arms. "Sweetie, it's okay. Your Grandma Helen is going to be alright."
Annie nods, but her tears continue. Grace whispers to Luke…
"This is my fault."
Luke whispers back, "What do you mean?"
"This morning, just before I woke up, I was…travelling. I saw a blonde girl digging up a plastic box that had something important to her inside. I didn't get to see what it was because I woke up. Luke, it was the same girl that shot your mother."
"Grace, that isn't your fault. When your normal sleep cycle ended, you returned to your body. There was no way to stop that. It was just bad timing."
Grace nods, but still feels guilty. She should have tried to fall back asleep, but by then she was too mad at Joan for being drunk to be able to sleep again. Really, in a way, this is Joan's fault.
Joan sits going through her list of messages on her phone. There are dozens of calls and texts listed, mostly from well wishers about her father's campaign. Among the messages from college and old high school classmates, friends and neighbors, are four messages from Dr. Hunter. If only she had checked her messages…
Will breaks the silence. "What did everyone see? The police will want to know. Joan? You must have seen something since you knocked me out of the way of the bullet."
"I saw this young girl, maybe about 15 years old, step out from behind a couple of large men – almost as if she had been hiding. She was reaching for something in her bag, and that's when I jumped you, Dad."
"You started to jump me before you actually saw the gun?"
"Uh yeah, I guess I had a hunch from the crazed expression on the girl's face. I just acted on instinct, but…I didn't think about where the bullet would go." Joan begins to cry.
"Joan, you can't blame yourself for that. You were very brave and did the right thing. I'm sure your mother will agree as soon as she is better. What about you, Kevin? You were right next to Joan. Did you see anything?"
"Sorry Dad, but between looking after E.T., I mean Eleanor, and listening to your speech – as short as it was, I didn't see anything. I do remember taking a call from John Hunter just before the shooting. He was there in the crowd and wanted to speak with Joan. What was that about?"
Joan shrugs. "We didn't get a chance to talk about much. Everything was happening too fast. Did anyone else see anything?"
Luke and Grace both shake their heads, but Annie asks, "Grandma hurt bad?"
No one answers. Grace hugs Annie again and stands…
"I think it would be best if I took the kids home. This is no place for them."
Will responds, "Good idea. Will one of you drive Grace and the children home?"
Grace says, "No, you should all stay here. I can manage fine on my own, and I'll take a taxi."
There is a brief pause for goodbyes and hugs, with promises of update calls. Soon Grace is gone with Annie and E.T. The rest of the Girardis settle back and begin to silently wait. Time passes…
After about an hour, an emergency room doctor enters, his scrubs stained with blood…
"Mr. Girardi?"
"Yes. Doctor, how's my wife?"
"Stable at the moment. She had a vein that was cut in half and it took a lot of effort to get that fixed."
"Then she's safe?"
The doctor noticeably hesitates. "We have to do more surgery. The bullet also struck bone and there are bullet and bone fragments all through the wounded area."
Kevin asks, "How risky is this?"
"I won't sugar coat it. Mrs. Girardi's right shoulder is a mess, and it will take hours to search for and find all of the potentially lethal shards of bone and bullet. We have to get them out before they can nick any more blood vessels. And then there is the risk of infection…"
Luke says, "So we should prepare ourselves for the worse?"
"I can't give any guarantees at this point. Even if Mrs. Girardi survives the surgery and beats the odds on infection, she may have significant loss of the use of her right arm. We'll just have to wait and see. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work."
The doctor gives a curt nod and exits. The four Girardis sag back into their chairs, all concerned for Helen's life and very much aware that she paints right-handed.
X X X X X
Will continues to sit, drumming his fingers on the chair's arm. Coffee has been supplied by the hospital, and all of the Girardis have taken advantage of this - for something to do if nothing else. The door opens and Captain Toni Chadwick enters. She and Will share a brief supportive hug.
"Will, any news?"
"She's in surgery, but it may take several hours. What about you, Toni? Any news?"
"We have the shooter in custody. She's a 15 year old sophmore at Arcadia High by the name of...Roberta Morrison."
"Morrison? Then she's...?"
"Robert Morrison's daughter - the escaped parolee you killed by running the getaway car into a pole over four years ago."
Will sighs heavily. "I guess that explains it."
Joan cries out, "Roberta Morrison? Oh no!"
Will asks, "Do you know her?"
"No Dad, but I met a friend of hers - and old buddy of mine from high school named Noah Beaumont. He mentioned that his friend 'Roberta' was having difficulties in school after the tragedy that happened Halloween night."
Toni Chadwick nods. "I confirmed that with my husband. Steven says the girl has been in a downward spiral ever since that night, and has been having regular counseling sessions to help her deal with the violence she witnessed. The gun used today was the missing revolver taken from the dead school guard on Halloween."
Will remarks, "We've been looking for that gun for months. We feared it had fallen into the hands of one of the students, but we could hardly make home searches of a thousand different families."
Kevin comments, "It sounds like this Morrison girl fell through the cracks of the system. Why wasn't she suspected before this?"
Toni replies, "Because she was seen as one of the victims, not as a potential risk for violence."
Will says, "At this point it doesn't matter. Toni, did you get a confession from the girl?"
"She's staying mute until she's had a chance to talk with a lawyer. With this being a holiday, we probably won't be able to get her a public defender until tomorrow. First thing any lawyer will do is demand a psych evaluation. Odds are, if she's found competent to stand trial, she'll be charged as a minor."
Luke asks, "Does that mean she'll just walk away from this?"
Will replies, "Not right away. If the courts find her incompetent, she will get psychiatric confinement until she can be pronounced 'cured'. Worse case for her, she will get juvenile detention until she turns 18, followed by a lengthy period of probation."
Luke cries out, "That's all she gets for shooting our mother?"
Toni sadly nods. "A kid her age almost never faces an adult court. Of course that might change if..."
Joan completes the thought. "If Mom dies."
Everyone goes silent.
X X X X X
"Kev, I just heard the news. How is your mother?"
Kevin has stepped out into the corridor to take this call. "She's still in surgery. No news one way or the other. How did you hear about this, Barbara?"
"Step-Dad called. He's in Arcadia with some new girlfriend and he said he saw the whole thing happen. It's already on the national news."
"Figures. I took a look outside and there's a small army of reporters gathered. The bastards are waiting to see if my Mom dies so they can enhance their stories."
"Kev, be fair. They're just doing their jobs - just like you use to do."
"I suppose, but your attitude changes when you're on the other side of the story."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Let everone on our show know I can't be sure when I'll be able to get back."
"I will, and even though you're vital to the production, I know everyone will understand. I wish I could be there with you."
"You have your work, and there's no sense flying out when we may have good news any minute."
Barbara hears Kevin's tone and knows he is trying to convince himself. "I wish I was the praying type. At least then I'd have something to do."
"Father Ken is here. He's sort of our family priest. He's inside praying with Luke right now."
"I hope he can add a little comfort to your family. Let me know when there's any news, okay?"
"Okay..." Kevin says and then hesitates. "Barbara..."
"Yes Kevin?"
Kevin hesitates again. Why is he listening to Joan's crazy words? "Are you pregnant?"
This time Barbara hesitates. It goes on so long, the hesitation becomes the answer.
Kevin asks, "How long?"
"About three weeks."
"Were you going to tell me?"
"I was waiting until I decided what I wanted to do."
"And have you decided?"
"Not yet."
"And if I hadn't asked and you decided to...get rid of it, were you ever going to tell me?"
"No."
There is a long pause while Kevin and Barbara listen to each other's breathing.
"Well, if my opinion counts for anything, I want this child."
"And if I decide 'no'?"
"This isn't a good time to discuss this, Barbara."
There is another moment of silence as each realizes what has been decided but not said. Without another word, both disconnect.
Kevin sighs heavily and enters the waiting room. In the corner Father Ken and Luke are praying. Joan silently cries and Will stares at the floor, his thoughts far away.
"Dad, why don't you stretch your legs? You'll feel better for it." Kevin suggests.
"I should stay here."
"Just for a few minutes, and we will come and get you if there's any news."
Will nods and pat's his son's shoulder. Will exits and automatically heads for the hospital's chapel.
X X X X X
Joan is walking about, hoping to see a God version. She has fully expected Nigerian Doctor God to have made an appearance by now. This waiting is maddening, and the fear...it just won't stop. Maybe Old Lady God is around? Joan could use a shoulder to cry on. Joan reaches the hospital's atrium and remembers the last time she was here was the night Annie was born. Joan looks into the relatively small space and is surprised to see her tutor waiting for her. Joan enters and is glad to see they are alone. No need to pretend she isn't talking to an invisible giant angel.
"Do you have a message for me?"
In response, the angel kneels down and assumes the lotus position.
"Meditation? Now? Speak to me!"
The angel ignores her and begins a barely audible chant in a language Joan doesn't recognize. She realizes he is speaking in 'tongues', and if her spiritual level wasn't so low, she would be able to understand him. Reluctantly, Joan sits on one of the area's benches and assumes a meditative pose. Scripture begins to whirl about in her mind, and Joan picks one and begins her own chant. Over and over the words pour from Joan's mouth, and she begins to calm. Her spiritual side begins to rise, and soon her chanting is also in tongues.
Joan's grasp of the world around her fades, and as this reality strand becomes just one of many, Joan begins to see the endless possibilities...
X X X X X
Will sits in the back pew of the hospital's small chapel. There are no overt religious symbols as the chapel is meant to serve all faiths. There are numerous books of scripture/holy text on a shelf, including many works of philosophy. Will supposes in difficult times, people take their comfort wherever they can find it. Will yawns a bit, exhausted by the stress and from getting no sleep last night. He is glad he is alone. There are a few things he would like to get off of his chest, and he didn't want to disturb Luke or Father Ken. He knows his son's growing faith is important to him, and despite being a priest, Will has grown to like Father Ken. Will looks to the front of the chapel, where a priest would stand in a Catholic ceremony - behind him would be statues of saints or an 'inspiring' painting. Those are not there today, but this location will do...
"Sometimes I hate you."
"Why do you say that, Will?" a voice to Will's left says.
Will turns his head and sees a handsome young man with short spiky hair, wearing a brown corduroy jacket. How did he miss this stranger when he is sitting only a few feet away?
"I guess you recognize me. If you don't mind, I'd like some privacy."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Who are you?"
"I'm God."
Will sighs. Great, just what he needed - some nutjob with a God complex.
"Go away before I call security."
"I'll gladly leave after you answer my question. Why do you sometimes hate me?"
"Look kid, I'm not in the mood. I don't hate you. I don't know you."
"You know me, Will. You have spoken to me often. Like the time you asked me to keep your parents together. You offered to be nice to your sister and to be a priest when you grew up if I granted that request."
Will stares at the strange young man. "How...? No, I'm not going to listen to this. You're a crazy man who has investigated my life so you can pretend you're God."
"Will, I am God. The same God you prayed to for forgiveness after you shot and killed Joseph Petrangelo during his attempt to rob a bank."
Will glares at the stranger. "That shooting is a matter of public record, and who wouldn't pray for forgiveness after killing someone?"
"You didn't pray after you killed Robert Morrison. Nor did you keep track of his daughter, despite being a very compassionate man. You've been thinking this is your fault. That if you had kept track of Roberta, helped her when she needed it, then today's tragedy would never have occured. But the memory of your kidnapping and near execution were too painful for you, and so you swept that event to the back of your mind."
Will gulps hard, begining to feel uneasy. This young guy doesn't look or sound crazy despite the words he is uttering. Who else can it be?
"So, you're here to what? Gloat? I choose not to pray to you or believe in you any more and you punish me by hurting Helen?"
"Will, I love Helen. I would never harm her, or any member of your family."
"Then where were you all of those times we needed you? When Kevin was injured. When Joan went crazy. When Ryan Hunter was attacking every religious target in Arcadia. When Helen was shot. Why didn't you stop those things?"
"Will, was I driving the car when Kevin was hurt? Did I pull the trigger today? Those were acts of free will by others, and I know you Will. You believe people must bear the consequences of their actions, tempered by mercy. Should I seize control of all of humanity and bend them to my will? Would you rather live in a world without choices?"
Will hesitates. "Good people shouldn't suffer in a world that's fair."
"The world is not fair, Will. The devil sees to that."
"Then stop him!"
"I am. It just takes time."
"It's taking too long."
"One day you will have the perspective to see that all of this has occured in a blink of the eye. In the meantime I, and those who believe in me, do all that we can to keep the enemy's dirty little handprints off of my creation."
"And what is all of this suppose to mean to me? All I want is for my wife to live. She's a good woman who believes in you. If she dies..."
"You will hate me even more. You will hate me so much, you would dishonor the memory of your wife's beliefs by forever turning your back on me."
"Yes."
"Just know Will Girardi, no matter how much you hate me, I will never turn my back on you. I know you to be a good, loving, compassionate man and for these reason, and a few others, I will always be there waiting to welcome you back. Know that I will always love you and intend only good things for your life."
Will closes his eyes as tears begin to fall. Suddenly he feels a hand on his shoulder...
"Will, the nurse says the surgeon will be out soon to tell us the news." Father Ken says.
Will looks about but only he and Father Ken are in the chapel. Even as he stands and nods, Will decides he has just had a very vivid dream - no more. In fact, he recalls from a few years ago when Helen spoke of a dream about God where he was a handsome young man in a corduroy jacket. In desperation for stress relief, his subconscious must have latched onto that memory. Still, those thoughts were disturbing...
X X X X X
Joan now sits alone in the atrium, still meditating and still crying. She both hears and senses the arrival of God. Joan opens her eyes and sees Cute Boy God sitting next to her. He smiles...
"Am I still 'Cute-Boy'?"
"Habit. I've noticed you've allowed this version to age in appearance."
"This version was always meant to be a contemporary, and if I remained at a high school age appearance..."
"It would start to look a little creepy when I was seen hanging out with you. Okay, 'Cute God' it is."
"How goes your attempt with the new ability?"
"Lousy. I'm having a hard time organizing the various scenarios into an order of probability. Especially when it comes to...Mom."
"This ability takes a lot of practice, but it can have great usefullness. As for your mother, your fear is denying you clarity."
Joan nods. "I've been trying to pray in faith for her recovery, knowing that you respond to faith and can arrange the best possible outcome through that faith...sort of like a conduit between the problem and your power. But, I see too many possibilities! In one, Mom recovers fully with no lasting consequences. In another...I see myself at her funeral. After that there are a host of scenarios between those two outcomes, mostly involving Mom having some degree of permanent damage that ends her art career."
"Yes, the closer you are to the situation, the more difficult it is to deal with the 'scenarios'."
"I've also been thinking about Roberta Morrison and how she got that gun last Halloween. The more I think about that night, the worse it gets. I can see at least twenty potential outcomes for that night, and only one of them had me winning - a very low probability. In all of the others I got killed, dozens of other people were slaughtered and the death demon escaped to continue his usual job of influencing the violent deaths of thousands of people a year."
"Yes, the scenario where you won was definitely low on the list of potential outcomes, but you knew that it was risky when you went to face the demon. You were very brave, Joan."
"And lucky. If Elaine Lishack hadn't intervened, I would have been killed. But then, I can now see what happened right after that. Ms Lishack knocked me out and took me to meet that old boss of hers, some spymaster named 'Max'. They drugged me and I told them everything about me being an instrument of God. If that hadn't have happened, I would have swept the area looking for anyone under the influence of the death demon. I would have found Roberta and driven out that lingering influence. Today's shooting did not have to happen."
"It was an unexpected consequence of Elaine's actions. That often happens when humans decide to try to control the fate of others."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this? When I woke up in the back of my pickup with all of those empty beer bottles around me...I thought I might be becoming an alcoholic. Do you realize how scared that made me?"
"Yes Joan, I realized it. You've never asked me about your drinking."
"Oh. I guess I haven't. So what's the answer?"
"Use the new ability and tell me what you see."
Joan closes her eyes for a few moments before replying. "Okay, I definitely see a scenario where I become a hapless drunk - a constant embarassment to my family and a burden to them. I also see the possibility of me never taking a drink again, making me even more of a social outcast than I am now. But...the most likely scenario is that I will become a moderate social drinker who tries very hard not to get drunk again."
"Moderation in all things, Joan." Cute God remarks.
"Okay, I'm probably not going to become a boozehound, but that doesn't answer my other question. Why did you keep me in the dark about what Lishack and Max did to me?"
"You think I should have revealed their secrets to you?"
"Yes."
"The way I go about revealing everyone's secrets to everybody?"
Joan sighs. "It would violate their free will. Still, a hint might have been nice."
"What does the new ability tell you about Max and Elaine?"
Joan again closes her eyes and in moments she is nodding. "The satanic cult I fought at Christmas is one of only many located all around the world. Max, with Lishack's help, are now aware of the situation and are passing the info on to the right person to deal with... Oh crap, Issac B. Dunn! Is this why you didn't stop me from working for I.B.?"
"It is one of the reasons. In the months ahead, Issac will be bringing down groups who have through the generations done unspeakable evil in their warped honoring of the other side. It is a time of great victory Joan, and you played your part."
Joan sighs and shakes her head. "No, I only did my part because you were there to guide me. If I had been on my own, with this new ability, I never would have faced that death demon, especially knowing it could lead to my Mom getting shot. At Christmas I never would have sought the help of Pansy Schubert to help recover Friedman's kid brother, knowing I would in the end have to kill her when she went rogue. There are so many decisions in my life that I would have changed if I had this 'gift' at that time. I...can't do this. I'm giving it up."
"Joan, there is a period of adjustment, but in time..."
"In time I would learn to handle it better, but that wouldn't change my feeling that this is wrong - at least for me. I can't handle this. I can't handle knowing all of the possible outcomes and having to choose for myself and others to go left or go right. To proceed or halt. All based on an interpretation of the the best case scenario. And, I'd never have the guts to make the tough choices on when to defy the odds. I would...lose faith."
"Joan, are you sure? This gift is usually offered only once."
Joan nods. "Like with a lot of things, I may have regrets, but I have to go with my gut on this. I give it up."
"As you wish, Joan."
"You're not upset with me, are you?"
Cute God smiles. "Actually, this was the most likely scenario. Over the centuries only a handful of my servants have been able to accept the awesome responsibilities that go with stepping up to this level. Their names are legendary through the ages."
Joan smiles. "So there will be no revised scripture - no Book of Joan?"
"There is sufficient scripture."
"I just hope my tutor takes the news as well."
"Joan, I thought you understood. Your training at your current level is complete. From now on you will have to handle your own training to maintain your current abilities."
"No more tap-tap-tap on my window in the mornings? Gee, my tutor might have been a pain in the butt on occasion, but I'm going to miss him. I guess he will be glad to be rid of me?"
"Don't be too sure. Even as he moves on to new assignments, trust that he too will miss you."
A look of sadness crosses Joan's face. "I guess I should start getting use to this. Being alone..."
Cute God shakes his head. He takes Joan's hand. "One last glimpse with the gift before I go..."
Joan closes her eyes, wondering what God will show her. Before her Joan sees an airport scene, and she can sense it is sometime in the future. From the angle where she is standing, Joan has a limited view of what is going on. She can see two young people waving goodbye to some people who are out of Joan's angle of sight. The two young people look like they are off on a long trip (possibly backpacking their way through Europe?). There is a young woman in her early 20's, maybe just out of college. And a very handsome young man in his late teens, maybe just out of high school - in fact, he wears an Arcadia High class ring. Seen through spiritual eyes, both of these young people are aglow with their love for God, and clearly they serve as instruments of God. It takes Joan a few moments to realize who the young blonde woman is...
"Wow Annie, way to grow up gorgeous."
As Annie and the teen with her begin to walk down the corridor to their plane, she pauses. Annie looks back to exactly where Joan would be standing if she were truly there. There is no sound that Joan can hear, but Annie clearly mouths the words: 'Thank you, Aunt Joan'.
Joan gasps. "She can see me! Annie has the gift. She knows I'm watching her from twenty years in the past."
Annie motions for the teenaged boy to join her and points to where Joan seems to be to her. The boy looks dubiously at Annie, but Annie says something insistent. The boy responds by waving at Joan, although he clearly does not see her. Joan begins to wonder, does Annie have a brother? Is this a nephew who will be born in just a few years? Annie smiles and takes the young man's hand. Instantly, Joan knows who he is.
He is her son.
A cry of joy escapes Joan's lips as she feels overwhelmed with a sense of love and pride for this wonderful young man. Her son! Joan wipes away tears of happiness, but when she looks back, the vision is gone.
"Oh God...oh God, I have a son!"
"Joan..."
Joan sighs as she hears the tone. "Of course. This is just a possible scenario. The probability rests with the free will choices of a lot of people, including me and...a husband?" (Pause.) "A boyfriend?" (Longer pause.) "Random sperm donor?"
Cute God chuckles as he rises from the bench. "Joan, the future will have to work itself out on its' own without your foreknowledge."
"Then why did you show me this?"
"Of late, you have become depressed. You have been giving up on the prospect of a happy life, and that has saddened me. Joan, I wanted to show you there is a good chance for better days ahead. Have faith that I love you and will always look over you - intending only good things for your life during the years of service ahead of you."
Cute God heads for the exit...
"Wait! What about Mom?"
Cute God smiles. "As you know, I have obligated myself to respond to prayers of great faith."
"But, I wasn't able to pray that way."
"Someone else, a person with extraordinary faith, has been in prayer for your mother. All possible favorable circumstances have come together for her benefit."
Cute God gives the back hand wave and exits. Only moments later, Kevin looks into the atrium...
"Joan, the surgeon is coming out to tell us his report."
Joan rises and smiles. "Then let's go hear the good news."
X X X X X
Dylan Hunter jogs through the Brentwood neighborhood of L.A. where he lives with his father. He is glad for the chance to exercise and unwind. When his dad called with the shocking news of Helen Girardi being shot, he immediately went into prayer for her recovery, and has been doing so for hours. Just a short time ago he felt a sense of 'release'. That his prayer has been answered. Dylan thanked and praised God profusely, feeling a sense of great relief.
As Dylan runs at a steady pace, his cell phone rings. He activates the bluetooth earpiece...
"Hello?"
"Hey little brother."
"Barbara, any word?"
"Kevin just called, his mother came through the surgery just fine. In fact the surgeon said he was amazed how well everything went. They expect Helen to make a full recovery, and after some physical therapy, she should be able to resume her art career."
"Thank God, that's wonderful news. Any word from Dad?"
"Kevin said no. The cops have been busy keeping away anyone but family. I did get a text from Step-Dad assuring me he and this 'Elaine' woman were okay."
"Is that attitude I hear?"
"Maybe... Okay, definitely. Who is this woman, and what has she done to so bewitch our normally on the straight and narrow parent?"
"I explained, Elaine Lishack is my old science teacher from when I attended Arcadia High. Dad met her in Arcadia once or twice, but how they happened to hook up here in L.A., that was a little vague. But be happy for Dad. He has a smile on his face for the first time since he broke up with Felicity."
"Hey, I'm thrilled John's getting on with his life, as long as this Lishack person is okay?"
"More than okay, at least in my book. She was a good teacher during the short time I was in her class, and she is a devoted mother to her little girl, who will be turning two next month."
"Two, huh? The same age I was when John married Mom."
"Don't be jealous. No one could ever replace you in Dad's heart."
"Yeah, I guess... Still, some people do repeat patterns in their lives. Look at my real dad and his habit of quickly divorcing every wife who has a kid."
"Dad is nothing like Hi Greyson, no offense."
"None taken, but you can see where I'm coming from when it comes to relationships and babies."
Dylan pauses in his running. "Barbara, am I suppose to be reading something between the lines here?"
"Uh...not over the phone. Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow at the studio? There's something I need to discuss."
"Sure. Are you okay?"
"Tomorrow at noon. Bye Dylan."
Barbara disconnects and Dylan wonders about the serious tone he was getting from her. Dylan is about to resume his jog when he spots a familiar 'person' sitting on a bench in front of the Brentwood Chapel of Peace (where he briefly attended). Part of Dylan's charism is the ability to recognize God in any form, but he is all too well acquainted with Crazy Hat God. Today she is wearing a mortar board with a tassel. Smiling, Dylan goes to sit beside her...
"Attending a graduation?" Dylan asks.
"Yes, yours."
"Mine? You mean from 'spiritual boot camp'?"
"Yes Dylan, you have completed your basic training far earlier than most do. Your exemplary work over the Christmas holiday has convinced me you are ready for ther next step."
"I'm not sure what 'work' you are referring to. My memory of that time is completely gone."
"Then you will have to take my word for it, you performed very well. So well, you are now graduated."
"Nifty. Do I get a diploma?"
"No, you get an opportunity - or rather, three choices. The first is the chance to leave my service, should you desire to do so." (Dylan opens his mouth to protest.) "Wait, hear the other options first. The second option is to stay at your current level. You will be able to do a lot of good work at this level and help a lot of people."
"The third is to go higher?"
"Yes, but ponder this choice. It requires a far more intensive level of training, and there can be considerable risks. You could frequently find your life on the line."
Dylan nods solemnly. "God, you know my heart. There is nothing I want more than to serve you. I'm willing to take any risk in your cause."
Crazy Hat God smiles, clearly touched by Dylan's devotion. "So be it. Your advanced training begins tomorrow."
"What can I expect?"
"You will have your own personal tutor, one of my angels, who will train you every day. Starting early tomorrow you will hear a tapping on your window..."
THE END.
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