Thanks for the nice comments everyone. I'm glad I have someone reading my story! This chapter was the hardest one I've ever written for any story and I'm still not completely happy with it but I don't think I can do much better after days of rewrites (and I'm old school so I like writing out long hand before typing it. Yeah, you would think I was born in the 50s, LOL). So here it is. deep breath
Warning: Brief violence and language.
Chapter 3
Caleb pulled the covers tightly to his body as the gust of wind coming from nowhere seemed to encircle his bedroom. Caleb gave a quick glance at the windows but they were closed shut, just as he remembered. As his eyes darted back to the foot of his bed, he was startled to see a pale and faint figure standing right in front of his bed. The figure appeared feminine with its long and flowing white hair and delicate face features. However the broad shoulders and stance prevented Caleb from concluding that the person was a female.
"Who are you?" he choked out, surprised at the pitch of his voice. Caleb Nichol never sounded intimidated or scared, ever.
"I am the Ghost of the Past," the figure said or at least Caleb was sure it was spoken. However he didn't see the mouth move at all even though he was pretty sure he heard the words. The voice was calm and serene prompting Caleb to relax a bit and softened his hold on the covers.
"Come with me," the spirit instructed.
"Why should I?" Caleb asked defiantly, his apprehension returning. "I'm quite content where I am, thank you."
"I can make you come with me the easy way… or the hard way," the spirit sneered and with a wave of its hand, the covers sprang away leaving Caleb shivering in his bed clothes. Caleb gulped.
"All right. I know when I've been had." Grabbing his robe, Caleb stood up from his bed and reached for the spirit's outstretched hand. A gust of wind surrounded the pair and then almost immediately disappeared, leaving them standing outside a battered down one-story house.
"Oh my god," Caleb gasped as he recognized his surroundings. "What are we doing here? I swore to myself that I would never come back!"
"Come," the spirit instructed. Caleb wanted to resist but almost as if it had a mind of his own, his legs began following the spirit into the house. Before they even crossed the threshold, Caleb could hear raised voices coming from the kitchen.
"Don't you dare talk back to me ever again," a deep voice growled as the sound of flesh hitting flesh could be clearly heard. Caleb winced at the sound and his eyes grew wide as he recognized the voice. Caleb and the spirit moved to stand in the doorway leading into the kitchen and were confronted with the sight of a burly fifty-something man in faded overalls standing over a lanky teenager who was on the floor wiping the blood trickling from his nose.
"Do you have anything to say to me, son?" the burly man continued in a menacing voice.
The teenager glared at the man but remained silent. Picking up the beer on the kitchen counter, the man laughed. "Thought so. Where would you be if it wasn't for me? Your mom sure as hell isn't coming back so you better not make me angry. Who would want to take in a piece of crap like you?"
The teenager's eyes flashed and he immediately sprang to his feet to knock the beer out of the man's hand.
"What the fuck did you do that for?" the man sputtered angrily and raised his hand to strike again. However the teenager was able to anticipate his action and instead grabbed onto the man's arm and pushed him away.
Hitting the kitchen counter hard, the man's eyes glowed angrily. "Get the fuck out of my house!"
The teenager's eyes grew wide but he rushed hurriedly into another room and within seconds had a backpack thrown over his shoulder and rushed outside slamming the door before disappearing into the night. The man went to the fridge and got another beer, muttering to himself about how he should have insisted on an abortion when he had the chance. The man exited the kitchen and the sounds of a television blaring in the living room could be heard a few seconds afterward.
Caleb stood rooted to the spot unable to move and speak until the man left, leaving him and the spirit standing alone in the kitchen. Caleb turned back to the spirit, his eyes flashing. "Why did you bring me here? I've blocked these memories for a reason."
"To remind you of where you came from. You should have more sympathy for those who have gone through something similar."
Caleb didn't answer back; he knew who the spirit was alluding to. The spirit reached out to Caleb's arm and suddenly they were out of the house and at a lively Christmas party with lots of people mingling and excited children running about. Caleb recognized the place almost immediately as he saw his younger self sipping punch at one corner of the room, quietly observing the other guests and envious of their joy.
"Do you know where you are?" the spirit questioned.
"The Scranton youth center," Caleb said quietly. After the confrontation with his father, Caleb had nowhere to go. Luckily he stumbled upon the youth center and the man running the place offered him a place to stay while he figured things out. In exchange, Caleb helped around the shelter cleaning and fixing things here and there. Caleb saw Mr. Crenshaw approach his 17-year-old self and stepped in closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.
"Are you enjoying the party Caleb?"
Young Caleb shrugged. "It's all right."
Mr. Crenshaw laughed. "Come on! It's Christmas! Get into the spirit of things. It only comes once a year."
Young Caleb gave him a wary look and Mr. Crenshaw laughed again. "I think I got something that would lift your spirits and put a smile on your face."
Young Caleb gave him a doubtful look. He watched as Mr. Crenshaw reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to Caleb who looked at it suspiciously before opening it.
"A train ticket to Los Angeles?" Caleb sputtered.
"You've been talking about getting out of this place, not that I blame you. A smart young man like you deserve better than this place can offer you."
"I can't take this," Caleb said. "It's too much." He tried to hand the ticket back to Mr. Crenshaw but the man wouldn't take it.
"Nonsense. You go to California and make something of yourself. I know you have the ambition and brains to be successful."
"I'll pay you back," Caleb declared.
Mr. Crenshaw chuckled and put his arm around Caleb. "You could pay me back by working hard and fulfilling your dreams. Once you do, don't forget to help out those that are not as fortunate."
Caleb nodded. "I promise," he stated solemnly.
"Good. Now go and enjoy the part. It's your last night in Scranton. Might as well make the most of it!" With another pat on the back, Mr. Crenshaw walked away shouting to the room that there was plenty of drinks and food for everyone. Caleb watched as his younger self carefully put the precious train ticket in his coat pocket and with a genuine smile on his face headed towards the Christmas tree to help hand out presents to the children in attendance.
"If there were more people like Michael Crenshaw, the world would be a better place," the spirit mused.
Caleb nodded bitterly. "I made him a promise and I didn't keep it."
"It's not too late," the spirit reminded him. "Let's go."
Caleb again found himself trapped in a gust of wind and then found himself in a dimly lit apartment that had a gaily decorated Christmas tree in the middle of the room. Caleb gasped as he recognized the ginger-haired figure sitting in front of the fireplace, gazing dreamily into the flames.
"Rose," he whispered affectionately. He walked over to her repeating her name and tried to touch her before realizing that she couldn't hear or feel him. Disappointed he stepped back but he noticed his younger self entering the room carrying two mugs.
"Here you go," he observed his younger self saying before settling down next to Rose on the floor.
"Thanks," Rose answered as she placed her mug next to her and leaned her head on Caleb's shoulder. She sighed happily. "I love the holidays."
"Holidays were never a great time for me," Caleb confessed, staring into the flames.
Rose took her head off his shoulder and turned his head so he was staring into her eyes. "That's all in the past now. From now on, you're going to have only happy memories during the holidays. Think about all the future Christmases we'll be spending together!"
Seeing an opening, Caleb reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. "Speaking of the future," he started. Rose gasped as he opened the box to reveal a bright solitaire diamond. "Rose Johnson, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I might not have much to offer you now but I promise you that one day, you will be in want of nothing. I love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Rose nodded as tears sprang to her eyes. "I got everything I need right here. Yes! I'll marry you." She cried as she embraced him.
Standing off at the corner with the spirit, Caleb didn't even notice the tears forming in his eyes until he felt them rolling down his cheeks. He couldn't take his eyes off of Rose's jubilant expression. It was surreal to see this playing out in front of him like a movie.
"Your wife had a generous heart," the spirit remarked. "You were so happy then. Too bad your greed got in the way of your happiness."
Caleb shot the spirit a glare. "What are you talking about? I did everything in my power to make Rose happy."
The spirit shook its head and grabbed Caleb again. Caleb opened his eyes after the gust of wind disappeared and found himself standing in his living room. He recognized a 13 year old Kirsten as she bawled into her mother's lap.
"Dad promised!" Kirsten wailed.
"I know honey," Rose said softly as she rubbed Kirsten's back. "But this meeting was really important to your Dad and you know he would have made it if he could."
"His job is more important than me," Kirsten cried.
"Sweetie, you know that's not true. Your dad loves you."
"Not as much as he loves his job!" Kirsten retorted bitterly. "When I have kids, I would never put work ahead of them. I will never be like Dad!" Kirsten pulled away from her mother's grasp and ran up the stairs to her room.
Caleb watched as Rose sighed and picked up the phone. After a few seconds and an irritated sigh, Rose spoke quietly, "Caleb. Where are you? It's late and Christmas Eve. Kristen is devastated that you missed her recital. She thinks your job is more important than her and I'm even starting to believe that myself. Come home." With another irritated sigh, Rose hung up. Going across the room, she poured herself a glass of wine, which she downed quickly before heading upstairs to check up on Kirsten.
The spirit remained silent as Caleb watched Rose's retreating figure. "I just wanted to provide for my family," Caleb remarked.
"You were never satisfied with what you have. You were just interested in making more and more money and didn't care how you made it," the spirit accused.
"I didn't want my family to be in need of anything."
"Yet all your family really wanted was time with you, to know that you cared and valued them above all else," the spirit pointed out. "Kirsten has been seeking your approval her whole life. Unfortunately in order to do that, she had to become you."
Again the spirit touched Caleb and he found himself in the Cohen kitchen now where he saw Seth and Sandy sitting at the dining table eating dinner. Seth stabbed his meat angrily and pouted.
"She promised that she'll put the decorations up by tonight."
"I know," Sandy said exhausted, revealing this wasn't the first time this conversation had taken place. "But your mom has a lot going on right now with work."
"Work, work, work," mocked Seth. "That's all her and Grandpa care about. They're a perfect match."
"Seth," Sandy warned, not liking his tone.
"Dad, it's Chrismukkah. Mom knows how important this holiday is to me."
"I'm sure your Mom is doing everything she can to come back and decorate the place," Sandy said reassuringly. "Your mom loves you more than anything, you know that right."
"She loves her job more."
"Seth, you know that's not true."
"Whatever," Seth muttered.
The sound of the front door slamming alerted the two that Kirsten was home before they saw her rushing into the kitchen looking apologetic.
"I'm so sorry honey," she said giving Seth a hug, which he shrugged off. "I really needed to finish some stuff so I can spend the next few days with my favorite boys! I'll start putting up the decorations right away."
Seth shrugged.
Kirsten frowned. A silent Seth was never a good sign. "Come on Seth. Hey tomorrow is the Newport Group's Christmas Gala. You know Summer is going to be there," Kirsten revealed, hoping to get Seth's interest. It didn't seem to work.
"Summer doesn't even know my name, much less my existence," Seth said bitterly. "Besides she's dating some dumb water polo player who has probably peed in my shoes this year."
"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. There will be other kids from Harbor there so it shouldn't be too bad."
"Hello Mom. Have you noticed? I don't have any friends in Newport unless you count Chester, but he's 10 so no he doesn't count. I hate it here! I don't belong. Everyone is all fake and all they care about is their appearance," Seth ranted, standing up and looking disgusted. "This year has been total crap and the one holiday that I've been looking forward to is turning out crappy as well. I'm going to bed. Maybe tomorrow we can start looking at boarding schools."
Kirsten looked miserably at Sandy as Seth pounded up the steps to his room. Sandy didn't say anything.
"Not you too," Kirsten moaned.
Sandy shrugged.
"Sandy, you know that we can't leave Newport."
"Honey, Seth hates it here. Hell I hate it here and I remember how you used to say you hated it here too."
"My dad needs me," Kirsten protested.
"Your family needs you."
"My Dad is family."
"And so are Seth and I. But if you keep choosing your Dad, we might lose Seth."
Kirsten looked crestfallen. Sandy took pity on her and gave her a hug.
"Honey, remember when you said you never wanted to become like your Dad?"
"I'm not like him," Kirsten replied defensively.
"If you say so," Sandy said. "I'm going to check on Seth."
After giving Kirsten a kiss on the cheek, he left her alone at the table. Kirsten reached for the bottle of wine and filled up her glass. Caleb's heart broke as he watched his daughter downed her glass, the image of Rose doing the same just a few moments ago resonating in his mind.
"What have I done?" Caleb mused. "Kirsten can't become me. I can't let Kirsten repeat my mistakes."
"It's not too late," the spirit interrupted. "But right now, we have to go. My time with you is up. Be prepared for the next spirit."
Another gush of wind and Caleb soon found himself back in his bedroom. He looked around but the spirit was gone. Mentally exhausted and with a lot to think about, Caleb headed back towards his bed. However the sound of soft music from outside his room pulled his attention away. Curious he walked towards the sound and stopped in front of one of the guest rooms. Opening the door, he was confronted with the sight of a big jolly old person sitting on a high chair and swinging in tune to the music.
"Who are you?" Caleb demanded.
"I am the Ghost of the Present. Are you prepared for where I'm going to take you?"
Caleb sighed. "Does my answer really matter?"
The spirit smiled. "No, it doesn't."
Taking the spirit's hand, Caleb took a deep breath and prepared himself for what he was going to see next.