(Note: I'm completely abolishing Cecilia and anything that had to do with her. Author's prerogative.)

"Yes?" a woman sitting at a desk looked up as he entered.

"I was wondering if I could do something to help." Simon's voice caught in his throat and he cursed himself for being so stupid.

"Sorry son, we're not hiring."

"No, nothing like that. Do you need volunteers or anything?"

The woman stood up and gave him a several times over. "We could always use the help. Here," she handed him a sheaf of papers and a pencil. "Fill these out."

Simon sat in an empty chair near the desk and read the questions. The first few were easy. His name was Simon Camden, and he was sixteen. His address and his phone number hadn't changed in all the time he'd known them. As a reference he listed "Reverend Eric Camden" and his English teacher from school. And then came the hard questions. Hmm--previous work experience. No, running an escort service probably didn't count. Especially not here. He wrote a brief explanation. 'As a high school student who is also on the swim team I haven't had the opportunity to hold a job. It seemed more important to me to help the world somehow.' The rest of the questions were easily answered. This was something he had thought about before, after all, and something he had to do. So he did it.

When he finished, he handed the application back to the woman seated behind the desk. She looked through it and said nothing for a moment. "Hmmmm. I have a few more questions for you. Do you mind?"

"No," Simon answered, hoping against hope to make a good impression.

"How much experience do you have with children?"

"A lot, actually. I have a sister who is four years younger than me, and twin brothers who just turned four."

"Hmmm." He couldn't tell exactly what that hmmm meant, but decided to take it as a positive sign. God couldn't be so cruel as to crush him just when he was searching for salvation. He wouldn't be. He wouldn't.

"Simon, I have one more question."

"Shoot."

"Why do you want to do this? It's certainly not a happy position."

Simon debated his choices for answers. He could lie. It would be wrong, but it wouldn't be the first time someone had lied about this little "situation" as his father called it so often. Not his daughter, his "situation." But then again, this woman didn't seem to know anything about the Glen Oak Camdens, so maybe he should tell the truth. The truth might make her trust him, and he did want to do this. No. He needed to do this.

"Well, a month or so ago I found out that my sister was being beaten by her boyfriend. It completely ruined her. And this is something I can do to- oh, I don't know. Redeem humanity. Or at least myself."

"I'm not surprised."

"Really?"

"It's not often we get teenage boys in here. I thought it might be something like that."

"Oh."

"Simon, I'll call you and tell you about working here and whether or not you'd be right for it sometime soon."

"Okay Tha-that'd be good."

Simon turned and left the low building. The cold wind blew down his collar, but he was almost-secure in this, the final measure of his salvation. Simon became to hum an old tune under his breath. The bells would ring on Christmas Day, indeed.