November 8th
Epilogue
Chapter Eight
There was a tasteful ceremony held the following week, arranged by the descendants of Zebidiah Bixler, where the remains of Abigail Brigham, Joseph Ashbury, and Zebidiah were finally and properly interred.
There was a large crowd, representatives from the precinct and construction crew who had discovered the unknown sub-basement, others present were various members of Zebidiah Bixler's family, along with the media, and other respected members of the community.
Karen adjusted her arm sling as she made her way over to the outdoor tenting area at the cemetery where the funeral services were to be held. Her shoulder was still stiff and painful, but at least it was healing well. She sat down with the others from the precinct right as organ music playing sad, respectful tones filled the air.
Caine was officiating over one portion of the funeral ceremony. Caine's injuries were well on their way to being healed. The miscellaneous cuts and bruises evident on his exposed skin were the only lingering visual clues to the injuries he sustained in the explosion at the station. Caine spoke to the large assemblage, "Death impacts the living, even a century later, as seen by our large attendance today. Living and dying are part of the natural order of things. We are gathered here not only to give the dead a proper burial and farewell, but also to remind the living of the brief and fragile nature of life.
"For we are given a daily gift of life. It must be nurtured and appreciated. Do not take it for granted. Do not rush through it. Savor each and every day in that journey which is our life. This is what death reminds us. Not of the finality of life, but the continuing miracle of life.
"Too often, we attempt to drag our past along with us as we move forward in our days, bringing all of our mistakes and regrets. We carry them with us, not realizing how the days slip away to become years, and not realizing the weight of that self-imposed burden we heft upon our backs until finally we find can no longer move forward.
"Today, we bury the remains of people long deceased and we must remember the symbolic significance of this sacred ceremony. A year from now, even a month from now, this occasion will be only a minor memory. For as the dead are buried, they become a part of our past.
"Only those who learn from the past, those who use that knowledge to deal with the present, and then move forward into the future, are the wise souls who will know the real serenity and satisfaction of a life fully lived."
Karen listened to Caine and found herself letting go of the turmoil that had filled her ever since the first appearance of Joseph, Abigail and Zebidiah. Yes, it was time to put them in the past where they belonged.
oOoOoOoOo
Peter glanced around the crowd, surveying the reaction to his father's words and was surprised to see that, regardless of the wide range of professions, incomes, and backgrounds, Kwai Chang Caine held the group mesmerized. Peter smiled and nodded in approval as his chest swelled with pride.
Peter, like Kwai Chang Caine, was made of hardy stuff. He'd survived his gunshot wound, and the subsequent surgery required to remove the bullet lodged in his shoulder. His youth, physical strength, and natural tenacity for living had pulled him through once again. He'd only been released from the hospital a few days before.
Peter quietly cleared his throat and resisted the urge to bring a hand up to soothe still sore throat muscles. Now, a full week after Halloween's deadly escapades, Peter's voice still had a hoarse quality to it. The bruises on his neck had blossomed into exotic shades of red, blue, black, and purple. There were now edges of green and yellow beginning to appear around the periphery. He'd hidden them as much as he could behind a black turtle-neck sweater.
Movement in his periphery caused Peter to notice Jody had gotten up from her seat. She was set to sing for the ceremony. Peter sat a little straighter in his seat to get a good angle to see Jody on stage. Jody had wanted to participate in the farewell services for Abigail and Joseph in some capacity and finally decided her choice of music would be the perfect way to do so.
She'd talked to Peter about it, wanting to pay some small tribute to Abigail, and then asked the Bixler family for permission to sing the song at the service. When the family asked about what she would sing, she'd simply reminded them of Abigail's love for roses. In fact, the young teen had written extensively in her diary about a collection of roses Zebidiah's mother had started. Over the course of her short life, she'd added extensively to the rose garden and had plans to do a lot more with it – plans Zebidiah had carried out after her death.
As Jody clutched the microphone, the band behind her began the simple instrumental opening of the song she was to sing. Swallowing hard, she brought the mike to her lips and began the memorable, yet haunting lyrics in Jody's own low, sultry style.
"The Rose"
(written by Amanda McBroom)
Some say love,
It is a river that drowns the tender reed,
Some say love,
It is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed,
Some say love,
It is a hunger, an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed.
It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes the chance.
It's the one, who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul, afraid of dyin'
That never seems to live.
When the night has been too lonely,
And the road, has been too long,
And you think, that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember, in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows,
Lies the seed that with the sun's love In the spring,
becomes the rose.
Jody looked out over the crowd when she was done and wiped away a stray tear. Peter could tell more were threatening to fall but Jody managed to contain her emotions. Both of them had been deeply affected by what they'd been through, as if something of the spirits who had possessed their bodies had left some lingering impression upon their souls.
Peter heard a muffled sound and glanced over to see Strenlich, the normally stoic chief of detectives doing his best to hide the tears that fell from his eyes. Eventually, the ceremony ended. As people began to gather in small groups and talk, Peter stood up and took the single red rose he'd brought with him to Abigail's beautifully adorned casket.
"I know there are lots of roses here for you today, Abigail. This place is practically swimming with them, but this one is from Joseph – a perfect red rose cut from your own garden only this morning. I went there myself. I've gotta tell you, it's a beautiful place. You'd be proud of it, Abby. Hundreds of different colors and types of roses. It just went on and on." Peter sighed before continuing. "I know Joseph would have made a special point to give this to you – he just never got the chance to do it himself," he whispered softly. He set the blossom gently atop her casket, then walked away.
He wandered over to a nearby marble mausoleum. He leaned against its smooth surface and rubbed his shoulder with one hand while he took a moment to do some discreet people watching.
Most of the people attending this service weren't there to grieve or to give themselves a sense of closure as was the usual case at a funeral. These people present were simply there to give the dead a long overdue send-off, so there was an almost jovial mood to the crowd.
As Peter listened to the bee-like drone of the huge gathering's increasing level of idle conversation, he sighed in the warmth of the rare November sun. He closed his eyes and sank further against the unmoving support of the marble building. His mind drifted back over the past ten days. It was hard for him to imagine everything that had taken place since the discovery of Joseph and Abigail's skeletons that fateful morning in the precinct.
Peter thought with a bitter smile, 'Just another reason to hate Halloween.'
The ache in that shoulder wound distracted him from his silent meditation, so he pushed his discomfort away and cleared his thoughts. He focused on his breathing and a sense of relaxation came over him, but when Peter finally opened his eyes and glanced around, he jumped violently.
At some point during his inner reflections, Kermit had walked up beside him and was leaning with his back against the mausoleum wall like Peter, apparently waiting for Peter to notice his presence rather than to disturb his peaceful state.
"Geez, Kermit! You trying to put me back into the hospital?" Peter exclaimed partly in jest and partly in anger, as his right arm automatically went to support his injured left side as he exhaled slowly through clenched teeth.
Peter caught Kermit looking at the way he was cradling his shoulder and Peter quickly let his hand drop away as he straightened, mainly because of Kermit's guilt-ridden expression. Kermit must have realized what was going on, because his jaw tightened in response.
Peter cleared his throat and said, "Kermit, I've tried to talk to you about what happened at the precinct, but you always seem to find a way to stop the conversation."
"Consider it stopped again. We aren't having this conversation," Kermit said, shaking his head as he took off across the thick, padded grass of the cemetery lawn, then he stopped. Without turning back, Griffin muttered, "Sorry, kid."
Peter went to him and put a hand on Kermit's shoulder. Peter could feel tensed muscles ripple under his hold.
"Kermit... " Peter started, not moving his hand away.
"Leave me the hell alone, Peter, unless you want a repeat visit to the hospital!" Kermit said in a low, menacing growl.
"I'm not gonna leave you alone, Kermit. We need to talk," Peter said as he finally let go of Kermit's shoulder. When Kermit still hadn't turned around to face Peter, but hadn't stormed away, Peter pressed on. "You wouldn't have come to me unless you thought the same thing."
Kermit shook his head. "It was a mistake. I'm dangerous to your health," Kermit murmured angrily as he started to walked away.
Peter called out in a different way this time – a way he hoped would reach through Kermit's heavy veil of anger, guilt, and remorse. "Kermit, you've saved my butt more times than I can count. Hell, I owe you my life a dozen times over. You've constantly watched my back, even when you didn't have to. You've been my friend when anyone else would have run for the hills."
Kermit shook his head, still not turning around. "I could have killed you and not known a thing about it until I woke up! I could have killed the whole crew from what I heard. It's amazing anyone is even talking to me."
Peter shook his head even though Kermit couldn't see the motion. "No, that's because everyone else knows you weren't to blame for any of what went on."
Kermit stared down at the ground and Peter picked up where he'd left off. "You've been my friend, even when it went against your grain, even when it scared the shit out of you, and even when I drove you nuts. You're always there. I don't understand it. I can't explain it. I just know I'm a very lucky guy to have you on my side.
"So get this through that thick skull of yours, I don't blame you for shooting me. That was something out of your control. Put it behind you. Like my father just said, you have to leave the past behind you in order to move forward with the living."
Kermit rubbed the back of his neck. "You're getting more like your father every day, and you know what? I can feel my blood start to boil every time you try pulling that Shaolin shit on me..." Kermit began as he slowly turned around to face Peter.
Peter suppressed a smirk at Kermit's open-ended threat and he moved closer to Kermit, looking Kermit straight in the eye. "I know from personal experience beating yourself up isn't as much fun once you've been called on it. And you should know, you've been the one to call me on a lot of my pointless guilt trips. Now, it's my turn.
"Look, kid, I – " Kermit stammered, suddenly unable to stare Peter directly in the eye.
Peter took in the other man's guilt-ridden expression, knowing exactly what Kermit was dealing with. "It's okay, Kermit. You don't have to say anyth– "
Kermit growled. "No, Peter, I need to say it, even if you don't need to hear it. I've hurt a lot of people over the course of my life, because of my work, but I – I... "
Kermit paused and Peter tried again to ease Kermit's guilt by saying, "Kermit, it's okay – "
Kermit snarled, "Interrupt me again, Peter, and I'll shoot you on purpose!"
Peter opened his mouth one more time, but stopped when the sudden movement of Kermit's hand to his holster silenced him.
"Dammit! Now, I've almost lost my train of thought... " Kermit paused as he paced a moment before returning to Peter's side to begin again. "I lived by a code of violence for a very long time, but I never wanted to hurt my friends in that way. I know all of that shit happened while we were both 'possessed', but I need to say I'm sorry for the pain you went through afterwards."
Kermit paused as he swallowed hard, his gaze directed downward. After a few moments, Kermit glanced up. "Okay, Kermit, I've listened to what you had to say. And you're forgiven," Peter said. "Now, can we move on?"
Kermit sighed, then nodded as he met Peter's gaze, then he groused, "So are they gonna have food at this shindig or what?"
He started walking back toward the others and Peter fell into step behind him, relieved that they'd both been able to say what was on their minds. Things were good between them again and that meant a lot to Peter.
Kermit and Peter joined the others from the 101st precinct just as Jody strolled up to them and said, "I've got a ton of Halloween decorations that I'm willing to give to anyone who wants them. I'll even deliver them to your house. Otherwise, I'm planning on having a big bonfire later on tonight."
Peter chuckled, but deep inside, he knew exactly how she felt. Halloween would never be the same for any of those who had been through those fateful days.
oOoOoOoOo
After the funeral, everyone had been invited to a reception at the Bixler family estate. Not exactly in the mood to be social, Jody and Peter found themselves wandering the grounds. They finally wound at a Japanese-styled ornamental garden at one end of the estate, complete with a huge, beautifully designed pond. It was filled with enormous, multicolored specimens of koi and extensive lily pads.
Peter felt himself relax as he took in the beauty and simplicity of the garden, especially the pond. He moved to the water's edge and squatted down to take a closer look as the water gently lapped at the edges of the pond, faintly stirred to life by the benign movements of the swimming fish.
There was something in Peter's soul that always seemed to free itself whenever he was around water, as if water soothed the constant motion of his body and spirit and provided him with a sense of serenity that eluded him whenever he was away from it for any length of time.
Peter turned when he heard a faint squeaking sound and saw that Jody had found a lovely wrought iron swing attached to a strong, thick limb of an old oak tree. He smiled at her and turned back to the water, watching the koi pursue one another in the murky water for another minute. It was as if the beautiful setting was healing a hole left in his heart by their ghostly experiences. Finally, he stood and joined Jody at the swing.
The towering oak above them appeared to be a little out of place with all the bonsai trees, ornamental shrubs, and delicately manicured sand sculptures. Then again, judging by its huge girth, the mighty oak had to be over two hundred years old.
Rather than removing such a spectacular specimen, the garden's creators must have decided to incorporate it into their master plan, using the tree as a focal point. By adding the beautifully crafted wrought iron swing and positioning it to face the expansive koi pond, the designers had made the tree a place of reflective contemplation.
On an almost subliminal level, Peter decided the huge tree lent its sturdy strength to those who were near it as it reached for the heavens with its straining branches now nearly bare with winter approaching and downward with its powerful roots which stretched out in countless directions in search of water and life-sustaining nutrients.
Peter swore he felt some of that great strength being transferred to him as they sat and rocked. It was a similar sensation to what he felt whenever his father had transferred some of his chi to him whenever he'd been seriously sick or injured, though this effect was not nearly as pronounced. Peter liked the idea of nature sharing its energy with him. For some reason, it soothed his spirit even more. He sighed and tilted his head back to soak in the sunshine.
Peter felt Jody's probing gaze. She'd already asked him a few times how he was doing and reminded him not to overextend himself in his first long day out, so she was probably giving him a quick once-over. Despite his brush with death, Peter didn't think he looked very fatigued or was even in that much pain. He was happy to be outside, then he realized for the first time in days, he actually felt warm and relaxed.
As Peter settled himself more comfortably into the padded seat of the swing, he glanced over at his partner and said, "You know, Jody, I really am sorry that Halloween has lost its appeal for you."
Jody sighed. "It's okay, Peter. There are plenty of other holidays left to celebrate. You don't happen to have a problem with Thanksgiving, do you?" she asked with a big wide-eyed expression, daring him to say no.
Peter laughed and shook his head, "No, Thanksgiving is fine by me. I love it. In fact, I'll even help you decorate for it!"
"All right, partner!" Jody gave Peter a high five salute in return for his reply.
They sat in silence, each basking in that bright sunlight which permeated their bodies with healing warmth while they were involved in the peaceful process of watching fish swim around the vast pond. There was a simple contentment in being in the other's company, grateful that both of them had survived.
Peter finally broke the silence. "That was a beautiful thing you did, Jody, choosing that song and singing it with such emotion," Peter said, then he grinned and chuckled. "Though, I didn't think Strenlich was ever gonna stop crying. Man, this will haunt him for years to come."
Jody burst out laughing. "Thank God I didn't see him crying like that while I was up on stage. I would have lost it right then. With the whole mood for my song destroyed, I'd have been rolling on the floor, unable to breathe, and laughing hysterically."
Peter started chuckling with her. For a while, neither one of them could stop, then finally the laughter subsided and Peter let out a long breath. His mood shifted and he asked, "Jody, are you okay with the way things went down? I mean, it got pretty crazy there at the end."
Jody nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I was fine. That whole thing really screwed with my head for a while until I was finally able to separate myself from Abigail again, but I've been sleeping like a baby all week. Not a single dream. At least, not that I remember. It's weird. I can't quite explain what I'm feeling."
She licked her lips and sighed. "I do know one thing that's driving me crazy. I feel like I'm jealous as hell of the love Abigail shared with Joseph, mostly because I've never known anything like that in my life. I mean, I've been in love, but I've never been love like they were."
"Yeah, their love was something you don't see everyday," Peter said. Both grew silent again, then Peter said, "Pop told me what they said after I woke up from surgery. I'm glad they left here with the thought of spending an eternity together. It must have helped to tide them over for their journey."
He mulled over that thought again before adding, "Forever spent with someone you love so deeply wouldn't be such a bad thing."
"Think we'll ever find that special person, Peter?" Jody asked pensively.
"Who knows? The day is still young... " He flashed her his grin before continuing. "Hell, a few days ago, it was raining like it was time to start building another ark or grow gills. Didn't look like the sun would ever shine again."
He paused, chewing on his lip for a moment. "I'm not trying to sugarcoat what happened to us, Jody – we went through hell and back over those three days, but when I think back on it, I tell myself it served a greater purpose. I mean, three displaced souls were able to rest again after a century of limbo."
She nodded and slid closer to him. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kept talking. "With those endless days of rain – well, just look at that sun. It's shining so bright, we should be wearing sunscreen! It's an amazing thing to behold."
After a few moments, he said, "You know, Jody, we think we control so much of our lives with science, technology, and organization. Then, a storm like the one we just had comes through – or the supernatural makes an appearance – and every damned thing you ever thought you controlled or understood goes flying out the window, leaving you bewildered and unsure."
He thought for a moment. "What's that old saying, this too shall pass? It's true, because all things eventually do. Storms, sunshine, life, death...all working in cycles as old as time. We humans think we control our lives. Instead, our lives are predetermined in so many ways, by greater powers than our own that we can't begin to fathom it all.
"My father likes to say, life is not what happens to you, rather life is a matter of what you do with what happens to you. Personally, I think we've done a hell of a job dealing with what's happened to us over the last ten days." He finally paused, looking to Jody for her response.
Strangely, Jody's eyes were wide and her mouth was open slightly. She met his gaze and shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly, Peter, don't you ever stop to take a breath?"
A little chagrined, Peter started to laugh when he realized he had gone off on a big tangent. The look on his face must have been priceless, because she started laughing and they dissolved into another laughing fit.
Once they'd calmed down again, Peter leaned his head back and shut his eyes, but he still had a big smile on his lips as he let his mind wander. He glanced over at Jody as she watched the fish swimming about in the pond. "You know, if I had to go through that nightmare with anyone at the precinct, I'm glad it was with you, Jody," he said finally, his gaze locking onto Jody's.
She pulled back a little, eyeing him closely. "Yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah," he answered her just as simply as he gave her shoulder an extra squeeze.
"Me, too." She settled back against his arm and relaxed in the pleasant sunshine. She barely moved when she began speaking again. "Even in your rambling, partner, you come up with a good idea every once in a while. What you said earlier about the rain and the sunshine... how it comes in cycles, and about how this too shall pass. Well, I think that's a good thing to remember. No matter how gray or dark the skies appear, eventually the sun will shine again. Yep, that's a very good thing to remember, Peter."
Peter raised his head to look at her. "Well, thanks. Good to know you do listen to me occasionally," he said with a smirk on his face. She batted his arm gently, then leaned back in the swing. They set an idle pace as they swung back and forth, neither saying anything for a long while.
Peter glanced over at her and asked softly, "You ready to head back inside now?"
Jody sighed as she thought for a moment. She smiled before saying, "No, not really. Would you mind staying out here with me a bit longer to enjoy a little more of this wonderful sunshine?"
Peter glanced back at her and her simple request. He realized he wasn't in any hurry to leave this serene place. "Not a bit," he said in reply as he settled in beside Jody and took a deep breath.
Maybe it was time for him to 'stop and smell the roses for a while', so to speak. Maybe, he'd do it out of respect for a couple of reunited lovers who had recently passed on to the great unknown. Then again, maybe he'd do it just for himself.
oOoOoOoOo
The End
Chapter 8