Winter Journeys
Chapter 16
Christmas Gift
(Author's Note: As I have stated before, the events discussed here are fictional and are not the fault of anybody in the real Boston government.
Joan looked sadly out of the hotel window. 'Twas the night before Christmas, but instead of being in a house, Joan was in a near-anonymous hotel room, staring out at a bleak winter-scape. Her only human connection was with Adam, and that was awkward, since they could neither get away from each other nor -- unite.
"I've finished getting dressed for the night, Jane," he said.
They had decided to get a single room, with double beds, to save money. The first night, self-conscious about sleeping in each other's presence, and trying not to remember that awkward night last February when they had shared a bed in the back of the Roves' truck, they had kept on their day clothes, whereupon Joan found jeans too stiff to sleep in comfortably. Tonight they agreed to wear pajamas, taking turns changing in the bathroom.
Joan turned around. Adam's upper garment was a T-shirt on which somebody -- presumably Adam himself -- had painted an abstract picture. On any other occasion Joan would have been amused and intrigued.
"What's wrong, Jane?" he asked, seeing her face.
She threw up her arms in exasperation. "It's a failure! I didn't get anywhere with the case today, and I sure won't accomplish anything on Christmas day. Monday I have to go back to Arcadia for my new job duties. And it's poisoned what could have been an enjoyable time for us. Going to bed at 9 PM! What kind of date is that?"
He walked to her. "It's not poisoned for me, Jane. I'm glad that you finally chose to include me in a mission, even if it didn't work out. I love you."
"You're in love with a klutz."
"Not in my eyes. To me you're the loveliest girl in the world. Look, Jane, I've only met your God once, but maybe she -- he, whatever -- doesn't understand human limitations. She's given you an assignment too complex to carry out. Like somebody hiring me to build a sculpture greater than Michelangelo's. It's not your fault." He sat beside her on the bed.
"I've always been able to carry them out before."
"All the more proof that you're not a klutz. So God misjudged you once. For heavens' sake, Jane, it's Christmas, when everybody gets time off. Stop trying to be a superwoman, and just be a girl."
He kissed her, and Joan, surprised by the warm feelings engulfing her and driving out the depression, wrapped her arms around him. Never had they made out like this, and Joan realized the reason: she was no longer hiding a secret from him. There were no longer barriers. He knew what she was now and loved her.
And with the idea of exposure in mind, Joan released her lover and started unbuttoning her pajama top. It was time to let Adam see her naked. She was convinced that he had wanted to for months - not just out of ordinary desire but as an artist wanting to visualize his beloved. And now she had finally built up the nerve.
"Wait - Jane -- we need to chill."
"Why?"
"We can't go all the way. I didn't bring any protection this time, because you said we wouldn't -- do that. You could get pregnant. And I know what teen pregnancy is like, from Bonnie. I can't do that to you."
"I---"
KNOCKNOCKNOCK.
Joan and Adam stared at each other, suddenly self-conscious. Joan called out: "Who is it?"
"HO! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas, Joan Girardi!" came a deep base voice from beyond the door.
Adam looked confused. "Does God ever appear as Santa Claus?"
"No. He's usually more normal than that. Try the peephole."
Adam got up as Joan rebuttoned her top and tried to get her disheveled hair back in order.
"Oh crap, it's your Dad. Better answer it, Joan -- not a good idea for him to see me like this."
"Change in the bathroom." Joan grabbed a robe. Her hair didn't matter when speaking to her father. She got to the door and hoped her father did not find the delay suspicious.
"Dad! What are you doing here?"
"Since you wouldn't come to the holiday dinner, we decided to bring the dinner to you. Plus a Christmas present." He gestured to his side.
Joan peaked around the door. "Mr. Musa! You're free!"
"Yes. Thanks be to Allah, and to your father."
"Please come in."
He looked at her robe, then away. "It would not be proper--"
"I understand," said Will. "Why don't you join my wife in the lobby, and let me explain things to my daughter for a while?"
Ali bowed and walked away. "Mom's here, too?" she asked, letting her father in.
Will nodded. "Luke is celebrating Hannukah with Grace's family, and Kevin and Lily decided to stay behind, but at least there will be the three of us."
"Four. Adam's, um, using the bathroom. But what happened?"
Will sighed. "I'll tell you, but it's not very creditable to the law enforcement system. I didn't take your case very seriously at first, but when you traveled up here and risked ruining your Christmas, I was shamed into taking action. First, I called your friend Professor Begh and told him that there was a fellow-Muslim in trouble. He agreed to put up bail and hire legal help if nothing else worked. Then I came up here. As a former police chief, I have a bit of entrée with people in law enforcement."
"Great. I couldn't even find out what the evidence was."
"There wasn't any. The whole thing was the combination of some bigoted officers and an assistant prosecutor anxious for a big case. When I called him and claimed that I had some background info on Musa in Arcadia, the prosecutor jumped at the chance to see me. He was relying on anti-Muslim prejudice and an apathetic defending lawyer to win his case. Then I told him that a brilliant law student was doing pro-bono work on Musa's behalf, and that she would make mincemeat of his arguments in court."
Joan laughed. "You didn't say the "brilliant law student" was a high school girl with one AP Law course?"
"Somehow I forgot to mention that. Once I was convinced that the prosecutor's case was worthless, I threatened to report him to the State Bar unless he released Musa immediately. He caved in."
"That's great, Dad. But he deserves to be reported anyway."
"Yeah. I'll figure out a way around that later. There's a limit to how devious I can feel on Christmas Eve."
Adam came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. "I heard the end of the story. Thanks for helping out Jane, Mr. G."
"It's something I should have done without Joan forcing me into it actually. Joan, why don't you get dressed so that we can join your mother downstairs?"
"Ok." She grabbed a blouse and a pair of jeans, and shut herself in the bathroom. First, of course, she had to remove her pajamas--
"Let me help you with that, Jojo," said a familiar voice behind her.
"Aiiiee!" screamed Joan. Nobody wanted to be startled in the nude, and particularly not by a ghost. Judith was, of course, not visible in the mirror.
"Are you all right, Joan?" came her father's voice from outside.
"Yes, Dad. Just stubbed my toe by accident." She lowered her voice. "What do you think you're doing, Judith? I nearly peed."
"At least you're in the right room for that," the other replied, with the serenity of one who no longer had to worry about such accidents. "But, seriously, Christmas Eve is a big day for ghosts. Haven't you ever read Dickens' CHRISTMAS CAROL? I volunteered to visit you, and help clear up any mysteries that may be bothering you."
Joan sighed. "OK. What was the Ali Musa case all about? I thought I was supposed to solve it, but in the end it was Dad that did it."
"Only because you motivated him into taking action. Remember ripples."
"So I was just a tool for God to reach Dad?"
"This time around, yes. But it was also intended as a learning experience, Jojo. What have you learned?"
Joan thought over the past few weeks. "To be on the alert for signs of injustice, not just counting on the system to work all the time. To keep studying law so that I'll be in a position to act on my own next time. And to realize that official law isn't the answer to everything."
"Right on. Now, I'd love to stay and chat, Jojo, but I'm supposed to go haunt somebody tonight." She kissed Joan. "Bye."
Joan emerged from the bathroom and assured her father that her "toe" was all right. Later she would find a way of explaining to Adam what happened. For the moment, they all left the hotel room to go downstairs.
Helen was in the lobby, chatting with Ali Musa. As Joan walked in she smiled: not just a Merry-Christmas smile but one that said Darling, I'm proud of you. Then she turned back to the freed prisoner. "Would you like to have dinner with us, Mr. Musa?"
"Thank you, madame, but I think it would be better to join my friends. Miss Girardi, I am in your debt. May Allah always be with you."
Yeah, thought Joan, I don't think I need to worry about that----
THE END