Contents

Title Page

Episodes One and Two

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Author Bio

The Golden Key

A Quest for Freedom

Episode Three

By Marvin Wilmes

Copyright 2016

Enjoy All Three Episodes

EPISODE ONE

Guardian Angel. Island Paradise. Friendship Betrayed.

Get Episode One of The Golden Key: Quest for Freedom today and begin your journey to discover the secrets known only to Zeke and his Master.

EPISODE TWO

Battlefield memories. Friendships tested. Romance discovered.

More secrets are revealed in The Golden Key: A Quest for Freedom Episode Two as Zeke and the dark man continue to face off over Roger’s soul.

Chapter One

Wayne took over the wheel of Roger’s Monte Carlo after about a hundred miles. The duo thought they were following a shortcut on the map, but in reality were led into curving mountainous roads. Roger glanced up from the map he was studying as they approached the small town of Calexico on Route 98.

“This eventually runs into the interstate, but we can also go north eleven miles and get on it. I can’t really tell which would be the quickest.”

“I want to get into Yuma tonight, not next year,” Wayne said. “We’re coming up on the intersection, and there’s a filling station. I say we stop and ask.”

“Sounds good to me.” Roger threw the map in the backseat, settled back as he took a drink from his third and last beer, and then sighed inwardly.

His mind kept drifting to Debbie no matter how hard he tried not to think of her. Somehow his life had a missing cog in it. Love was asking him a question. Did he dare answer it?

Wayne pulled into the service station, and then they went inside to ask which route was the quickest. Roger saw a jackrabbit bound from behind a pickup. Free and unencumbered…he only had himself to worry about.

“Well, let’s see,” the service attendant said lazily, “if you’’re partying take ninety-eight, if not, go on to the interstate. That’s the quickest.”

“Well, we’re not partying,” Wayne said.

No, the rabbit was out in the fresh air of the desert. He could go where he wanted to when he wanted to. The question: was he happy?

“Go to the interstate. Let’s get to Yuma before Christmas.” Roger laughed as he glanced at the clock——nine thirty.

“You’ve sure been quiet the last few miles.” Wayne said as they returned to the car, then headed north.

“I was just thinking about this ridiculous year. You know, I’ll be twenty-one in a couple of months.” Roger didn’t tell Wayne he felt like he was currently wearing a mask, feeling so carefree, but yet worried about Debbie’s health. Waiting on a cancer diagnosis must be hell.

He reflected on how tragedy seemed to follow him. By not accepting these calamities of fate, it was not true. “It’s been so stock full of changes that I haven’t been able to keep up with it all.”

“Tell me about it. You know what my brother told me when I saw him last? He said El Toro was my stand now. Wait until I tell him about meeting you.”

“Oh yeah,” Roger said as he experienced a fleeting moment of déjà vu. But why did he feel he had met Wayne prior to El Toro?

Roger again got lost in the majestic dark desert road outside his window. His mind drifted back to his home—back to Blair, Nebraska. He wondered what they were all doing tonight. There was something in their lives and his life that could never be shared now because of the miles.

Something had been lost forever.

***

Wayne’s mind drifted to a Christmas long ago when he and Wes were greeted in the morning by a toy train set Santa Claus had left under the tree. Wayne had wanted to get his turn at the controls, but his father was enchanted with operating the toy train.

Life was so innocent back then.

“Wayne, what is that red light behind us?”

Wayne was pulled back to the present by Roger’s question. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a car behind us with a steady red light hanging out the window.”

“Yeah right, Rog. I’m the only one with permission to yank any chains.”

“No, I’m serious, look.”

Wayne did, and a sudden shiver ran down his spine as a flashback of the stereo theft ran through his mind. “Hopefully, it’s somebody trying to mess with us. Why on earth would there be cops out on this road at this hour?”

“Well, if they were cops, they would have flashing lights, wouldn’t they? At least they do in Nebraska.”

“They do in Illinois, too. I guess there’s only one way to find out. The interstate is just ahead. If they’re cops and want to stop us, they’’ll do it then. But, I’m not stopping on this deserted road just because someone is spotlighting us with a red light. You never know what you’ll run into out here.”

The friends fell silent as the light continued to follow them.

As Wayne activated the right turn signal to merge onto the interstate, the lights suddenly began to whir in bright-blue and red. Wayne hit the steering wheel as he realized his impeccable luck with the law had followed him into the military as well.

***

The snow fell thick and heavy as Paul left the city limits of Blair. He breathed in deeply as the impact of the memories rushed in to smother him. His head hurt with a headache as each scene pounded into his consciousness. Tears finally crashed through his wall of self-control. The windshield wipers made a rhythmic beat, which reminded him of marching in cadence as a soldier.

At times he also heard the gunshots from his past.

He remembered with distaste the Christmas shattered by war. No tinsel, trees, or carols that year. Christmas had been salvaged by being with a close friend. It would be Jack’s last Christmas alive.

“You know, Paul,” Jack had said as they ate their sea rations. “Christmas is in the heart. All the rest is window dressing, but finding that deep inner well of strength and peace within us, where God is…now that’s Christmas.”

Paul wiped his eyes. Why was he in mourning again? He was losing control of his life. It was becoming an obsession that threatened his love for Donna. He wanted to forget, but the more he tried, the more the memory persisted.

The snow came down harder now.

Once again, he felt a darkness envelope the car, a dank smell arose from the floorboard as his mind raced back over the years. He couldn’t find any reason for his life.

You did not deserve to live.

He served his time in the Army, was honorably discharged, and now worked slavishly in a factory. Big deal.

While in Vietnam, Jack had shared his vision of becoming a teacher when he returned home. He wanted to give back, to coach kids, to give them the benefit of the wisdom he had gained in life through this trial. Jack wanted to inspire youth to be their best and try to help them avoid some of the mistakes he had made growing up.

Paul wiped the sweat from his brow as he tried unsuccessfully to make time release its grip on him. Why had death crept in and taken the life of such a man? Jack had dreams that could have helped someone. Paul had only ashes of his memories.

A month ago he had all the answers, but now, they had retreated into some void between his past and his future.

It was Christmas Eve. Why did he feel so cold to those closest to him?

He turned left on River Road without any real conscious thought of where he was going. He wanted to go someplace where there was no pain, memory, or feeling.

The snow reduced visibility to near zero. The windshield wipers continued their bam-bam cadence similar to the ongoing gunfire in his mind.

His mind eventually locked upon the grace of his fiancée’s impact on his life.

She was today. She was real.

He had to stay focused on the present.

Jack was the past. Yesterday. Only an image in his mind.

A thought came out of the winter snow and into the warmth of the car. What if he had died in Vietnam and Jack had lived? What would his best friend be doing now?

The answer had always been there.

“Life is for living.”

Jack was always fond of the saying. He had always believed in the best.

“Why?” Paul pounded the steering wheel and yelled to no one in particular. “Why did you leave us?”

Plump, plump, plump, plump.

The windshield wipers answered him without resolution.

“I owe you my life,” he finally said the words aloud. “I have a debt to pay, but does my life mean something? Does it count?””

Suddenly, out of the wintery storm, the image of a deer—standing in the middle of the road, staring at him as if to issue a challenge to his questions of existence—looked so innocent as Paul slammed on the brakes.

The animal didn’t move as it watched the car slide crossways in the road and begin toward a ditch.

As the car careened over the precipice, Paul remembered that his life had counted. He had helped Mark and Anita find their answers.

The car continued to roll as Paul realized in helpless horror that Donna had made it count, too. Did she know how much he really loves her?

His head hit the steering wheel as the car rolled over once before resting—on its side—against a fence. As the snow continued its indifferent assault on the car, Paul’s eyes closed.

***

Wayne winced as the cold steel of the handcuffs tightened around his wrists, while the officer arrested him for driving while intoxicated. What made the experience more frustrating was his friend’s indifference as the patrol car drove off. He knew he never should have trusted Roger. Once again, there was only one person he could rely on…himself.

“What town is this?”

“El Centro,” the officer replied flatly.

After Wayne was processed, he settled into a corner in the jail cell, surroundings he thought he had left far behind in Chicago.

There were eight men in his cell.

“Looks like the law conducted a clean sweep, what kind of town is this anyway?”

“Welcome to El Centro, lad. This is the home of Cher. You should count your blessings you’re getting a free room for the night in her hometown. How does it go? Let’s see if my pipes still work…” The man cleared his throat before belting out the chorus of “Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves.”

Wayne was intrigued by the older man who was now laughing like a hyena.

“Who are you?”

“Just call me Zeke, lad. That’s all you need to know.”

There was a certain aura surrounding Zeke that conveyed to Wayne that the man was enjoying this situation. As he retreated into a corner, Wayne pondered the name “Zeke,” and why on earth anyone would curse their child with an odd name like that.

His thoughts quickly left Zeke as his anger at Roger’s apathy toward the situation played over in his head. Couldn’t Roger comprehend the seriousness of his situation?

Probably not. Roger was a naïve country hick who thought a good time was going to town on Saturday night to watch the streetlights come on. He probably was on his way back to El Toro by now and wouldn’t bother with the Yuma trip.

He’d never been able to trust anyone. He certainly wasn’t going to start now. He had to rely on himself as he always had.

He glanced at the elder man who was now grinning like a Cheshire cat. He needed to trust someone, and right now—Wayne closed his eyes and shook his head—Roger was his best bet.

He wiped his brow of sweat as he reflected on this friendship born of Semper Fi.

One short month did not constitute a friendship. He barely knew anything about Roger except there was something distinct and different about him. That uniqueness had caused Wayne to help Roger pull out of a very negative, self-destructive attitude on Thanksgiving.

If he were honest with himself, it was not friendship that had caused him to ask Roger to come along. His motives had been purely selfish. Roger had the means of transportation to take Wayne to see his brother. It was convenience.

Would he have asked Roger to go if he had his own way there?

The answer was not important. What did matter was how his friendship with Roger provided the rope he searched for to pull himself out of a pit of despair. Wayne could open up to Roger in a way he couldn’t with anyone else. He didn’t know why that was, he just knew it was real.

Zeke smiled at him as Wayne had a flash of insight. There was something familiar about that face. Where had he seen this little man before?

Almost as an uninvited guest, the answer came to him as he gasped. The man in his dream. “You’re…you’re…” The words struck in his throat as Zeke came over to his side.

“Pipe down, lad,” Zeke whispered. “You want everybody to think you’ve lost your marbles. You recognize me, eh?”

“You’re the man in my dream…or I’m having a flashback.””

“No, nothing like that,” Zeke said as Wayne noticed the men in his cell were staring at the pair. “What time do you have?””

“What does that have to do with the dream about my father and you?”

“Plenty.”

Zeke grasped Wayne’s arm to glance at his watch.

“Hmm. One minute before midnight. It is almost Christmas and there is not much time at all, is there?”

Suddenly, the cell filled with the cadence of snoring. All the men in his cell had fallen asleep.

“A trick I learned in angel school,” Zeke said as he winked at Wayne.

It was more than a year since the Marine Corps had taken Wayne off the streets of Chicago, and he had his last hit of acid. This flashback was worse than any he’d ever experienced.

“We don’t want your cellmates to think they have gone off the deep end now, do we?” Zeke said as he offered his hand. ““You mortals have always been too logical for your own good. Go on—” he pushed his hand closer to Wayne, “—take it.”

“What?”

“Trust me. We are going to take a journey.”

“To where?” Wayne said as he grasped the small man’s hand.

“To see your father.”

Wayne closed his eyes and prayed for this nightmare to end.

His father was dead.

He felt cool air whisk across his face followed by the sensation of moving. As quickly as it began, it ceased.

Wayne opened his eyes. He was by the ocean…and in the cage of his dreams.

Zeke released his hand. “Please trust me.” Then, with no warning, he was simply gone, vanished before Wayne’s eyes.

He rattled the cage and screamed. There was only one place this could be, and that was hell.

***

Consciousness slowly came to Paul as he lifted his head off the steering wheel and reached up to feel the wet blood cascading from a cut. He shivered as the cold reached to his bones. He became aware of what had apparently woken him. The car was being shaken. He tried to grasp not only what had happened to him, but also what was happening now.

As he gained his bearings, the car shifted and he was jolted as it landed upright on the ground. A shadowy figure appeared at the car door.

“Thank God you found me. Please help me.”

“It’s okay, Paul. I’ve got you.”

Paul stopped breathing as he recognized the voice.

“Here, take my hand.”

He didn’t question the command—he simply did as he was told.

“How would you like to go to Hawaii, Paul?”

“It doesn’t matter. Wherever you go when you die.”

***

After settling Paul comfortably in a seat in the church, Jack joined Zeke by the ocean. “Paul’s out like a light. I think he is in deep shock after seeing me, but he’’s here. Now what?”

Jack observed the devious smile on Zeke’s face.

“We wait for Abar to make his move—and he will, I assure you. The God of Adam, Noah, David, and Abraham has willed it. That is all we can do for now.”

Jack jumped as Wayne made another outcry from his cage.

He was moved by the irony of the peace he felt as the waves hit the beach and a sea gull flew overhead.

***

Roger roused from his halfhearted slumber and shielded his eyes from the bright lights as a car pulled around in front of him.

Finally, he thought, Wayne’s back.

The patrolman had taken his keys and said his friend would be back in four hours. Rather than pay for the Monte Carlo to be towed, Roger opted to stay on the deserted freeway.

That was six hours ago, and he found himself more than irritated at the patrolman’s promise.

He let out a gasp as he sat upright and saw two men in their early twenties walking toward the car. Suddenly, they stopped as they appeared to realize the car was occupied and returned to their vehicle. As their doors slammed shut, the sound was amplified in the silence of the sleepy desert.

Both men had shoulder-length hair, which reminded him of the old Wayne—like the photograph before he had joined the Corps and they became friends.

Roger’s hands shook as he attempted to light a cigarette.

Before he had fallen asleep, Roger had time to reflect on some important aspects of his life. Though brief in its nature, he was beginning to realize the value of his friendship with Wayne. The answer to his question about love was more elusive, but he realized he needed Debbie—just as she needed him.

He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew he wanted to reach out to her again, to hold her in his arms, and tell her it would be okay.

Maybe that was the truth of his destiny and his decision to enter the Corps. The simplicity of being a support beam for the people currently in his universe. There was more to friendship than met the eye. It meant being there in good times as well as the bad.

For the first time in his twenty years, Roger realized friendship and love were of the heart, not necessarily of convenience.

As he took a puff from his cigarette, the man on the passenger’s side got out to relieve himself. Did they even known he was in the car? What were their intentions? Did they plan to strip the car…or worse?

He cursed under his breath that the patrolman had left him on the freeway helpless and vulnerable. He longed for the security of Blair right now. There he had control. Here he was an alien, out of place, out of control.

The man got back in the car, then the glove compartment light went on. What was he reaching for? A gun?

A semi roared past as Roger hunkered down out of sight and began to strategize a defensive posture in case this situation turned sour.

***

“Put that damned thing away.” Rocky chewed on a toothpick as he scolded his sidekick. He wished Joey had half as much sense as the roadrunner in front of the car.

“Hey, man, no sweat. I’m just going to put the fear of God in him.”

“Stay put.” Rocky stretched his arm to hold Joey back. “We’ll just wait it out and see what he does. I want a piece of those wheels.”

He was good at watchful waiting. No dude was going to stop him from pulling off this caper. He was encouraged since the car hadn’t pulled out. It looked promising.

“You reckon he’s out of gas, or what?”

“We’ll sure as hell find out as soon as the road clears. Get ready.”

***

Roger doused his cigarette and wondered how Wayne would handle this situation. It was apparent Wayne wasn’t coming back. He assumed Wayne had been arrested and the accompanying officer hadn’t been totally truthful about the situation.

He quickly ran through a mental checklist of his situation. The patrolman had his keys. They were about sixty miles from Yuma, and it was Christmas.

In front of him, two would-be car strippers flashed an item, which could be a gun, as they seemed to discuss their next move.

Roger glanced down at his hand as he realized he just lit a second cigarette.

“Well, okay. I can wait this out as long as you can,” he said aloud, trying to garner as much courage as he could muster. As he continued his silent surveillance, he could only hear the ticking of the car clock. An uncomfortable feeling fell over him, and he found himself opening the car door. His heart pounded as if he had just run a marathon.

He walked up to the car, not certain whether fear or stupidity was guiding him. He tapped on the window as the man turned to him.

Roger screamed as he stared directly into the dark, steely eyes of Abar.

As he took a step backward, the depth of fear became more than real, as his heart literally rose in his throat and he found himself gasping for air.

“No.” The key became scalding hot against his chest. He reached for it in agony and shielded his eyes from the grotesque, but evil face of a demon that could only be born of death.

The dark man’s laughter echoed in his ears as he recalled Maui, Zeke, and his commitment to helping the Bennett brothers believe in life.

Zeke had lied to him.

The reality of the lie—and the finality of his life—seemed to collide with the desert night air, as the echo of the gunshot erupted from the gun.

“Nooooooooo!”

He screamed as he felt the ripping force from the bullet pound into him.

The force embedded the key into his chest as he was knocked backward by the bullet’s impact, causing him to fall and roll down the hill.

The last conscious thought he had was how he had failed in his mission.

***

Abar stood over Roger, laughing as the car raced off, its tires squealed and left a trail of black smoke.

“I have finally won, Zeke. Do you hear me? I have won. Roger walked right into my trap, and you let him.”

The area surrounding Roger’s body suddenly lit up in a fiery display of red as Abar gazed upon the key, which now burned brightly. An explosion followed and knocked the dark man off his feet, as he realized—once again—Zeke played a masterful trick on him.

As the dust cleared, Abar was angered that Roger’s body was gone.

“Zeke!” the dark man screamed, then growled as he lifted his cape and disappeared.

***

The scream of Abar could only be heard in the spiritual world of angels—both good and evil—and just as in El Centro, little Dave Alvarez woke up to find his bed moving. He heard his mother get up and turn on the light.

“What is it, Mom?

“Go back to sleep, hon. It was just an earth tremor.

Chapter Two

Roger lay unconscious at Zeke’s feet. Black clouds rolled in as the area around the church turned dark-gray. Zeke’s muscles tensed as he felt Abar’’s presence behind him. A lightning bolt struck a few feet away as Zeke turned to face his foe.

“You tricked me. What is Roger doing here? He’s dead, isn’t he? The key is finished, isn’t it? Answer me, swine.”

“Tsk, tsk. What a temper we have. It would appear you are your own worst enemy, my friend. Yes, Roger is dead. You see, he had to die—to self—that is.””

“What? Quit talking in riddles, little man.”

“I’m afraid you will have to leave, sir,” Jack said.

“Never.” Abar snarled. “Not until I finish the job I started.” He shoved his way past Zeke, hitting him in the solar plexus.

Zeke grunted as he fell to the ground. He took great pleasure in watching Abar reach for the golden key. The moment Abar touched the key, a bright fire swelled up from the ground to engulf the dark man.

Zeke pointed a finger at him and ordered, “Be gone.” A rod of light travelled from the tip of his finger, striking the dark man from behind, knocking him to the ground.

“You haven’t heard the last of me, yet.”

“No, I suppose not.” Zeke chuckled as he looked upon the pile of ashes—once the casing for the spirit of Abar.

He sighed and wiped a tear from his eye. He knew the dark man would be allowed to claim someone in this battle. The Master had explained this to him today, and he had to admit there was no logic or reason to it.

As an angel, he had to accept destiny as it was written. Even he, with all of the powers at his disposal, could not change some things.

Every cause had an effect, and looking upon Roger, he contemplated his own existence.

“He was serious,” Jack said.

“You bet he was. The dark forces of life never give up easily. That’s why there are angels like me to provide a balance. Otherwise, mankind would destroy itself.”

Zeke went to Roger and knelt beside him. “Jack, do not try to understand what just happened. I know death comes in many forms: death of dreams, physical death, spiritual death, emotional death, and the list goes on and on. But, Jack…” the little man paused for emphasis, ““…God controls death.”

“I wish I understood the grand design.”

“You will, remember. It won’t be long before you will know all of the answers. That, my friend, is not in my realm. We won a victory today, though. Abar can no longer thwart the destiny of the golden key. That is the very thing he wanted to do, but his mind is so clouded with evil he never takes time to think past the end of his nose.”

Zeke noted Jack’s puzzlement. “Jack, not even I, an angel, understands everything concerning the forces of evil. Do not let the mystery of it all cloud your mind to the mission at hand.

“Sorry,” Jack said as Roger groaned.

Zeke ran to Roger’s side as he heard Jack’s whispered prayer of confession. He turned to his protégé and said in a whisper, “Death is never the end, just the beginning.””

***

Roger opened his eyes and focused on Zeke. “Oh no, not you again. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You’ll know in time.” The little man helped Roger to his feet.

“You’ve gotten me into a fine mess. My friend’s spending the night in jail, I get blown away by an idiotic carjacker with a trigger-happy finger and——” Roger gasped as he recognized Jack as the man in the boat off the shores of the island nearly a year ago. This man had told him at that time that Paul also needed his help.

“You’re Jack Alvarez,” Roger said, knowing there was no turning back now. He’d been killed by the bullet that struck his chest. He reached for the key, and as he touched it, a sense of serenity washed over him.

“Yes. It was a pleasure serving with your brother. He spoke of you often.”

“All righty then. Come on, let’s not waste any more time. Roger, you must open the church with the key now. Shall we?”

Roger followed Zeke’s gesture to take the lead.

“Life is a mystery, Roger. It is an undeniable fact, but you have been blessed with the distinct honor of possessing the key. Tonight is zero hour.

Roger turned to face Zeke as they arrived at the church door. “I thought this was a way to help two Chicago twin brothers believe in life. Wasn’t that the challenge you put before me?”

“Ah, but you will find you cannot help someone without receiving help yourself. It is called the law of reciprocity. Give and it shall be given to you. Now, if you will take the key and open the door to the church.”

“I hate all this supernatural hocus-pocus.” Roger inserted the key, turned it, and opened the door to yet another surprise.

“Paul, what are you doing here?”

“I would gladly answer you if I knew where ‘here’ was,” Paul said as he looked directly past Roger. “You always knew.”

“Knew?” Jack answered.

“That there was an afterlife.”

“Oh that.” Jack laughed. “Well, where we are now is sort of a limbo. I requested to come here for you.”

“What is it like?”

“I can’t answer that for you, unfortunately, but never mind all that now.”

Roger watched the two men embrace as he remembered his mom and how brokenhearted she would be when she learned that both her sons had died this Christmas.

“What is important is Roger’s golden key holds one simple gift for you. I’m only here to tell you that I’m not dead. Oh, yes, in a physical, mortal sense as compared to your experience, but I have always been with you. I have always been a part of you.”

“You’ve had something to do with all my recent memories then?”

“Maybe and maybe not,” Zeke interjected.

Roger suddenly felt dizzy as if he were going to faint. Then he remembered dead people didn’t faint. Did they?

“You became involved in this,” Zeke said to Paul, “when you drove through El Centro to see Jack’s family. Remember how you watched them from across the street after you drove all the way from Blair to tell them what a good friend he had been to you?”

“Yes,” Paul said as he wiped away the tear. “I watched them having a barbecue in their yard. I didn’t have the heart to open up old wounds. I prayed to Jack’s God that he would help me make some sense of it all. I wanted to feel that Jack didn’t give his life in vain.”

“Jack’s God is also your God,” Zeke said as he turned away from Paul.

Jack rested his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “You won’t remember any of this when you return. You will still have to experience consciously your own search for God. Then and only then can you fully comprehend that death is not the end, but only the beginning.”

Paul turned to his brother. “I remember it all now. Zeke gave Anita the key. It was in her diary, but why were you chosen?”

“You have the nerve to ask me that question?” Roger said angrily.

The intensity of Roger’s response surprised Paul.

“I wish I knew. Ever since this little twerp entered my life, and Anita gave me the key, my life has been nothing but upside down and backward. That doesn’t matter now. I’m dead for whatever purpose it serves. I’m not sure there is a grain of truth in anything said here.”

Roger then turned his wrath on Zeke. “Nothing, and I repeat, nothing has turned out like I was promised.”

“But, Roger,” Paul said in a calm voice that was definitely not born of his brother, “Jack is here in spirit.”

“Do you really believe that?” Zeke asked.

Paul answered with confidence in his voice. “Yes. If Jack is here, then there must be some truth to all this God talk. Mature faith, yeah, I guess that has been my missing piece.”

“Good,” said Zeke. “You are now ready to return.”

“Good-bye, Jack,” Paul said as he took his friend’s hand. “I want you to know I am so blessed at home. I have a woman who loves me, a good job, and a wonderful family. I wish you were experiencing it all.”

Jack embraced him. Roger felt confused and disoriented. What he was witnessing was two friends reuniting as if catching up on old times.

“You also wish there had never been a war, don’t you?” Jack said. “How we all wish that would have been, but Paul, God has his purpose for everything. I had a purpose for leaving the world, you for living and surviving. There is more work for you to do. Life must go on.”

“I know.” Paul turned to his brother.” I know this is all hard to understand, I’m still trying to find my way with Donna.” He turned to Zeke. “I’m still struggling to find my own way.”

“Oh, I have a feeling you are well on your way. The key always changes lives, sometimes in ways we cannot imagine.”

Paul turned back to Jack. “I need to let you go, honestly, I haven’t been able to do that yet. But, it was good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Jack said. “About that letting go business, don’t you understand it was Roger who freed Anita’s spirit to live on Thanksgiving?”

“What?” Roger screamed as he focused on Zeke for the answer.

“You chose life over your own personal feelings,” Zeke said. “You died to self. That decision has started you, Roger James Wilson, on a journey of a thousand miles.””

“And, Roger,” Paul said, “those journeys begin with a single step.”

Both Jack and Paul were gone now. Roger once again began to feel dizzy as his knees grew weak.

“Come along. Now we have to help Wayne,” Zeke said.

“What? You mean Wayne’s here?”

His knees no longer felt weak, but he had to find a pew to sit down on…and soon. He couldn’t absorb the fast-paced changes occurring on this island.

The little man only smiled as he turned away from Roger and opened the church door, then gestured for Roger to take the lead once again. The entire area outside the church was covered with a thick fog. Greg Bennett was sitting on his horse directly outside.

“Well, Roger,” he said, “do you believe in destiny now?”

He couldn’t answer as the full impact of another unknown side of Wayne hit him at his emotional core.

“Zeke.”

“Hm.”

“I’ve got to go back. I have to live.”

“Why?”

“I never had a chance to tell my parents how much I really loved them or how much I appreciated them.” He walked closer to Greg. “I’’m not sure I really thought about it before, because I’ve always taken them for granted…like they would always be there. But someday…”

“Someday, they won’t be,” Greg said dryly as he finished Roger’s sentence. “They will be called home.”

“Roger,” Zeke said, “there is plenty of time for that. You are not dead. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Mortality,” Roger said to himself, ignoring Zeke.

“No, Roger, immortality. While on this earth, your body is mortal, your spirit is immortal. Come on, let’s go,” Zeke said as Greg commanded his horse to ride into the dense fog. ““Well?”

“No, I can’t. I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Zeke said, raising his eyebrows.

“Of this whole scene. I don’t understand any of it. Wayne’s father was right in the beginning. You probably made a mistake in choosing me for this. As for the key, it’’s a curse.”

Zeke was walking away from him now, disappearing into the fog. Roger threw his hands up in exasperation. There was nothing he could do but follow.

***

There were no words when Wayne saw his father ride out of the fog. He had long ago quit screaming. His father dismounted and approached the cage.

“Hi, son.”

“Dad? What’s going on here?” He felt fear rise up inside him as he began to perspire.

“Simply the answer to your mother’s many prayers. You and your brother gave her quite a nasty time for a while. You do know she is so proud of you now?”

“Yes, I know that, Dad. I’m so sorry.”

“Wayne, look at me. See, I’m here. You have done your grieving. I may have died physically, but I want you to know I have been with you always and will continue to be. Live with me in your future, don’t live with me in your past—thinking of what might have been. I have gone on to a better life, but you still have a lot to figure out on your own.”

“I know.” He saw Zeke come out of the fog, and a peace washed over him.

“I’m proud of you, son. You have a very important lesson to learn this Christmas.”

“Zeke? Are you mad? What is Wayne doing locked up in that cage?” Roger demanded as he came out of the fog.

“Ask Wayne, he might know.”

“I have no idea.”

“I can tell you,” his father said. “You are locked up, Wayne, because that is what you have been doing all your life. You have been shutting yourself off from the rest of the world. You have to start trusting. You must let your defenses down for once and forget about number one for a bit. You can enjoy friendship, love, and things of the heart if you will accept them.”

“How do I get out?”

As soon as he said it, Roger looked down at the key. After a long pause, Roger said, “Friendship?”

Zeke nodded his approval as Roger went to the cage and placed the key into the lock. It fit perfectly.

“Remember, son,” his father said, “I will always be with you. Confide in your new friend. He is a little green for the wear, but you have much to learn from each other.””

As Wayne looked at Roger, he realized that seeing his soul was not as scary as it had first been. “Turn it, bro.” Roger turned the key.

Yes, they were brothers in one sense of the word. They were brothers in the game of life.

***

Roger was blinded by the flash of light, and as his eyes adjusted, he saw he was alone now with Zeke. The cage? Wayne and Greg had disappeared.

“A curse you say?” The little man smiled from ear to ear.

“Maybe and maybe not.” Roger grinned. “Let’s just say it’’s an experience, but why all of this?”

“Good question.”

Roger froze at the sound of the female voice. He hadn’t been alone after all, he thought, as his aunt Laura walked out of the fog.

“You were always asking that question it seems.”

“You’re alive.”

“Not in the way you would think. I only graduated to something better,” she said as she laughed in her carefree manner. “Roger, when we die only our bodies die. Our spirit lives on. It took a lot of persuasion on my part, but I finally talked God into giving you a golden key. Although the truth of the matter is, I imagine he always had you pegged as a recipient.”

She winked at Zeke as she pulled out a scroll and flung its open end in Roger’s direction. It stretched several feet and was etched with strange writings.

“These are people’s prayers, Roger. Prayers for me, and in those prayers I was lifted up to heaven. All prayer is answered in some way or another, Roger. I am alive in your memory. I am a part of you.”

Suddenly, Roger was moved to kneel on one knee as a brighter light began to approach from behind his aunt. A tear trickled down his cheek as he felt a great love for his late aunt that was indescribable.

Then he saw in wonder a male figure dressed only in a white robe and His finger pointing to a beating heart, which was punctured by a lit torch and upon His head was a crown of thorns.

The man did not speak, but only smiled at Roger.

“Lord,” Roger found himself moved by something larger than himself, “have mercy on my soul, I am not worthy to stand in Your presence.””

Roger closed his eyes as a breeze blew against his face. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, when suddenly he was jolted by the sudden reality of feeling the cold desert air.

He opened his eyes and gazed into the sky, awed by the beauty of the universe, the stars, and the moon.

It took him a moment to regain any sense of clarity in his surroundings and what had just happened. He reached up to access the damage to his chest when he remembered.

He had been shot.

He was stunned to feel the indentation of the key in his chest and was aware that he held the chain and the key in his left hand.

He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but the would-be carjackers were no longer parked in front of his car.

He groaned as he slowly got to his feet. Really, the bullet had hit the key? Was that what happened? Nonsense, he thought to himself as he shook the chill from his bones.

He was alive, that much he was sure of. It was time to strike out on his own toward the town and free his friend from jail.

Chapter Three

Mark opened the door to his apartment as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Before him stood a shivering Paul. “Well, howdy. I guess I don’t have to tell you that you’re in the proverbial doghouse with Donna. Where have you been?”

Paul ignored Mark’s greeting as he walked toward the recliner and collapsed in it. “I’ve made a real mess of things, haven’’t I?”

“In a word, yes. The important thing is that you’re okay. You’re going to have to pull out of whatever it is you’re in before you get smacked in between the eyes with an engagement ring.”

“You can start by telling me where you’ve been. It’s four in the morning, you know. We’ve been worried sick.”

“I lost control of the car. The last thing I remember was seeing the deer in the middle of River Road. Next thing, I’m turned around in the road headed the other direction, yet the top’s smashed in.”

“Totaled?” Mark asked as he entered the living room.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. It’s drivable, but that’s all. I’’m not—like you said that’s important. I could have been—”

“Okay, Paul.” Mark resisted the urge to complete Paul’s sentence and agree with him. “What’s really under that skin of yours?”

“I wish I knew. It’s Jack somehow, I keep finding myself reliving the whole ugly mess.”

“You mean you haven’t let go. It’s how many years?”

“Damn you, Mark.” Paul bolted out of his chair. “I didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?”

“No, neither did Roger and I.” Mark’s eyes bore into Paul’s. ““You know what your brother would say if he were here? He’d say to share the burden, which is something I doubt you’ve even thought about.”

“How can you share death? I did once. It was just a bandage for the wound.”

“But you didn’t share the intimacies of it with the most important person in your life.”

“Donna? She would never understand.”

Mark got up and took Paul roughly by the arm. “Her brother drowned fifteen years ago last summer. Is that understanding enough for ya?” Mark instantly saw the look of confusion pass over Paul’s face. “Well, I can see by the look on your face that you didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t, how did you?”

“Good night,” Mark said as he turned on his heel and went back to his bedroom and shut the door. It pained him, but this was one time he could not give Paul his friendship. Donna was his answer now. He wanted desperately for the couple to get this issue resolved.

The outside door slammed shut and Mark wearily crawled into bed. As he did so, he saw the butterfly flittering around the light above him.

He closed his eyes and resolved to slip into slumber, but the image of his grandfather filled his imagination. His grandfather was giving him a huge thumbs-up as he waved and turned to walk toward the open pasture.

Mark Meyers quickly forgot about his friend’s trials as he thought about Anita and his future and drifted off to sleep.

***

It was really no surprise to Roger when the sheriff’s car pulled to the side of the road and flashed a light in his eyes. This was just one of those days, a Christmas he was sure he would never forget.

“What are you doing out here on this deserted freeway?” the sheriff pointedly asked as he got out of his car and walked up to Roger. He wore a cowboy hat that was slightly cocked to the left side. A real life Matt Dillon, Roger thought.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said offhandedly.

“Try me,” the sheriff said as he put his hand on his gun.

“Oh hell,” Roger said throwing his hands up. “Listen, I just left my car about a mile back, my keys were confiscated, and my friend was picked up to be taken in for four hours.””

“Well, well,” the sheriff drawled. “Now you are headed for town. How long ago was your friend taken in?”

“Over six hours ago.” Roger groaned getting impatient. He decided against explaining about the alleged carjackers. He just wanted to get to Wayne and make tracks as far away from this area as possible.

“Well.” The sheriff pushed his hat up with his hand and seemed to be fully enjoying this situation. “Seems your friend did not pass go did he?”” Roger didn’t answer. “Come on, get in. El Centro is just a couple miles back. I suppose I can drop you off at the jail.

Without a word, Roger got into the sheriff’s car as he rubbed his chest again. He’d almost bought the big one. He wished he could go back in time to the day before he signed the papers to join this crazy circus of the United States Marine Corps.

Then he thought of Debbie and her leukemia. Could he help her? Could she help him? Could anyone help them both?

He closed his eyes to hide the tears. He was not the one in this world trying to survive. Debbie was facing a terminal illness.

He now knew what she meant when she had said to him “never lose sight of today.” Somewhere deep inside himself he felt a mixture of pain and joy. It was the place where a memory was hidden. A memory of Laura Wilson, which led to the eternal question burning in his soul.

Who was he and where was he going? It was like a cycle. As he opened his eyes, he saw the bright lights of El Centro glimmering in the desert night. He was a Marine in search of truth and he was beginning to see a bigger one.

No one stood alone. Wayne needed him, Debbie needed him, and he could not let them down. To let them down would mean he would let himself down.

As the sheriff’s car pulled up to the curb in front of the jail, he touched the golden key around his neck. He wordlessly got out of the car and slammed the door without giving a word of thanks.

He was totally immersed in thought as he stood before the massive jail realizing there was more at stake than salvaging a weekend. He suddenly felt renewed with a sense that he was not alone.

As he walked across the street, he made a decision to take this Christmas for what it was, not for what he thought it should be.

***

“Cheer up, Donna. It’s not the end of the world. After all, Paul can take care of himself.”

“You just don’t understand? This is Christmas and Paul is stuck in the past. I’m afraid—” The doorbell rang, interrupting Donna’s tirade.

“I’ll bet that’s Paul now,” Anita said hopefully.

“If it is, I don’t want to see him.”

Donna twisted her engagement ring as Anita went to answer the door. She had been doing it for days, but last night she’d taken the ring off hundreds of times and put it back on as many.

“I’ve got to run an errand. I was just leaving,” Anita said to Paul.

Donna couldn’t help but feel out of touch with herself and the world around her. A short month ago Anita had been in a coma.

She took off the engagement ring and slammed it on the table as she got up from her chair, feeling the flush of her anger rush through her veins. It was time to get this off her chest.

“No, wait, Anita, I want you to hear this,” Donna said as she barged into the room, her voice raising two octaves as the emotion she felt propelled her forward.

Paul’s eyes widened as Donna grabbed his arm and roughly pushed him toward the couch.

“Look at her!”

“Wha—” Paul said stunned.

“Look at Anita. For once in your life, Paul Wilson, look at the miracles around you.”

“Donna, relax,” Anita feebly tried to calm her friend.

“And you shut up, too. I’m tired of all your advice, Anita. I’m tired of being a bystander. You say you’ve found God. Paul says he has lost a friend. Mark says he has found a dream. Yet everybody runs around and acts no differently. It’s time I stood up for something.”

“Okay, you’ve got the floor, what is it you would like to stand up for?” Paul said feebly.

“Life.” The word floated out into the air and hung endlessly between the trio as Paul and Anita looked on mesmerized, and Donna felt something flutter in her heart.

“I don’t really know what I want to say except do you think you are the first one to lose someone?”

“No,” he said as he rushed to her and put his arms around her. She did not resist. “Mark told me about your brother. I’’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“That’s not the point.” She drew away. “I survived. You survived. Why can’t you let go?”

“What is it with all this ‘let go’ bunk? I can’t let go.””

“No, you’d rather feel sorry for yourself. You are not helping Jack by sulking and obsessing over the same old stuff. The bad stuff. What about the good things you shared? Are they all gone? Does that die, too?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it does. That good stuff made my life richer. I don’t know. I really don’t know. I wish to God I did.”

Donna looked deeply into her fiancé’s eyes. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Donna, what is it you want me to get?”

“Maybe you had better leave.”

“But—”

“No, you can pick me up at eleven, and we can go to your folks.” She held her hand in front of his face so he would not be mistaken about the intent of her next words. “For now, I cannot be engaged to you. We have too much to work out.”

“I can’t argue with you. But it’s not you, it’s me.””

She turned away from him in silence as she heard him leave. The anger must have still been etched on her face.

“What are you mad at me about?” Anita asked.

“If you must know, do you think you are the only one that has looked for God. My problem is I haven’t found him yet. I’m tired, I’’m going to my room. Wake me up when Paul arrives.

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

“Donna…”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you don’t have to look for God, maybe it’s just a matter of realizing He has been there all along.”

Donna smiled weakly as she glanced at the door Paul had just walked out of. She sensed she knew what she had fallen in love with. The part of Paul that could not let go of his friend. They would never make it unless he realized that letting go also meant becoming that which you set free.

***

The secondhand seemed motionless as Roger glanced at the clock. It was one minute before six. He surveyed the lobby area around him. The place was full of people awaiting to see friends or relatives who were behind bars.

He got up from his perch and groaned as he felt every bone in his body ache from his overnight vigil. His roll down the hill was just now catching up with him.

“Excuse me, I’m here for a Wayne Bennett.”

The woman behind the window said nothing as she chomped on a wad of gum and riffled through a file. Finding what she was looking for, she slammed it up against the window.” This him?”

The image shocked him. “Yes, how can I get him out so we can get back on the road?”

“Says here there is a three-hundred-buck bond on him.”

“What!”

“You heard me. Three hundred bucks.”

Where in the world, Roger wondered, was he going to come up with that kind of money? “Listen, I’ll worry about that later. The patrolman took the keys to my car. Can I have them back?”

“Hold on. I’ll check.”

While he waited he looked around the room again. This was actually Christmas?

“Sir, is this it?” The woman held up Wayne’s locker key.

“No, no, no, car keys, car keys.”

She shrugged. “I’ll ask him again.”

Roger shifted nervously from foot to foot. He glanced around the lobby and noticed everyone was watching him.

It felt like he was an animal trapped in a zoo.

After what seemed like eternity, the woman once again returned to the window. “I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Bennett says he doesn’t have your keys.””

“No, he does not have them, the patrolman took the keys.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe this. My friend doesn’t have the keys—the cop took my keys.”

“Oh, I see,” the clerk said, appearing very frustrated. “Well in that case you will need to go to the Highway Patrol office.””

“Where’s that?”

“Four miles out of town on Highway 85.”

“Figures.” As he turned away he saw about fifteen pair of eyes boring through him.

“What are you staring at?” Roger screamed as he hurriedly headed for the door. He needed air. He was not controlling his life again. Someone else was. It wasn’t his hometown, Mark, or Anita this time. It was an unseen entity—the spirit of a town he had never heard of before a few hours ago. As he walked out into the freshness of California desert air and leaned against the door, he saw him.

The child’s face appeared forlorn, lonely and lost, as if he had lost his best friend in the world. Roger noted he appeared as out of control as himself and he was crying. He temporarily set aside his own sense of loss and confusion as he remembered the dream man and his challenge. This was Christmas and apparently the boy needed help.

Before he knew it he was running across the street. “Hey there, little man,” he said. “You okay?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” Roger looked around. “Where are your folks?”

“I don’t have enough money.”

“What now?” Roger sat down by the boy and patted his knee, temporarily forgetting his own need for greenbacks. “Money for what?””

“To go to Japan to see my brother.”

Roger was taken aback by the sincerity of statement. “Japan. Whoa, now that is a tall order. Let’s think about this for a minute. Japan is on the other side of the world and—”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” The boy got up to leave. “Nobody does, just leave me alone.”

“You’re running away, aren’t you?”

“No.” The boy turned around, anger edging into his voice. “I just want to be with my brother on Christmas.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still running away. What about the rest of your family? Don’t you want to spend Christmas with them?”

“Just go away and leave me alone.” The boy turned and ran away from him. Roger resisted the urge to run after him.

He got up and walked the two blocks to the nearest phone booth. He had his own problem to solve. As he dialed the phone to call a cab, he turned in the direction the boy had ran. Wayne, Debbie, and now a snotty-nosed little kid.

They meant something to him. Something was very ethereal about this Christmas. Something was chasing him, as well as trying to teach him something. Could he ever figure out what it was?

As he fondled the golden key hanging around his neck, he felt the strong spiritual side of his soul rise up from within. Memories of his past flashed before his eyes.

After summoning a cab, he hung up the phone and sat on a nearby bench. Questions flooded his mind as he recalled what had cinched the crisis of the last several months.

He had already found the answer he was looking for without even realizing it. Maybe he was the one that was running.

***

“So, why did you join?”

“You know, that’s a question I don’t even know the answer to.”

“I think I do.”

“Oh you do, do you? Has it ever occurred to you that neither one of us knows what we really want out of life. We just collided into each other’s ships and we are grabbing on to each other as life rafts.”

“That is exactly what I mean.” Debbie had smiled. “You did it again, Roger. You are analyzing everything about what is going on around you. I think you may have joined because you have a million questions about the universe and your place in it, and because you’re not one to accept things that are handed out to you. You’re a maverick who has to find his own answers.”

“Well, that does cover a broad spectrum, doesn’t it?”

“Okay. So we come together on this blind date. You’re trying to survive since you’ve been cut away from your roots, and I’’m trying to cut myself away from mine.”

“That’s a fair place to start. Roots I mean. I do need them.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re still not satisfied with that answer.”

“No, there’s got to be more.”

“There is and I feel I can tell you. I didn’t feel like I was in control of my life back home. I mean it was like the great American dream was put in front of me and I had to go for it.”

“What was it? The dream I mean?”

“Ah, yes,” Roger said as he laid his head back against the headrest. “It was accounting. Although, that was one of many. I was going to join the Navy, become an astronaut, I even had an idea to be a social worker at one point. Then there was my teacher phase, and in the end, I came up with accounting. I mean I was college bound and accounting was a field that required college.”

“Your parents push you?”

“No, and that’s the funny thing. They believed in letting us boys decide on what we wanted to do. I guess it was the system, society, or Big Brother,” he paused, ““and myself.”

“Mostly yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t it possible you never pushed against the tide, rather just settled with swimming downstream with the rest of the fish?”

“Very perceptive. So how come I’m here?”

“Easy. You finally learned to swim upstream.”

***

“Hey, mister, you the guy that called the taxi?”

“Yeah.” Roger snapped out of his daydream. As he got into the cab, he knew what he’d have to do first chance he got, renew his ties with Debbie. To hell with the Marine Corps and planning out his life to the last stitch.

It was his life and hers that were at issue. He decided that somehow he’d stick by her in thick and thin…if that was all right with her. In fact, that’s where he was now with his friend Wayne.

He was going to stick it out here in El Centro with Wayne until they could get to Yuma and beyond.

He reflected on this new side of friendship he had never really known before. Being a friend meant more than enjoying the good times.

Being a friend meant being there in all kinds of times.

Chapter Four

“I can’t believe you’re all here. It is such a Godsend.”” Aunt Martha sputtered as Uncle Will, along with Joe, Mary, and Debbie Martin piled into the car. “It’s such a pleasant surprise for Christmas.”

Well, this is Debbie’s trip. We’re just tagging along. Celebrating of sorts. Debbie has some wonderful news!” Her mother’’s eyes were misty.

“Oh, Mom!” Debbie said as she took Mary’s hand. “I do have some good news, that’s for sure. My leukemia is in remission. I call it my Christmas miracle.

Debbie secretly kept her truth tucked within her soul. She had no doubt that something had happened when she had touched the golden ornament around Roger’s neck. She recalled the dream she had a week ago about a dwarf of a man with graying hair. He had spoken to her in a soft voice and said that God was granting her some time to experience the love she was born to have.

Her parents never would have understood, which was why she never shared the dream. Her mother was too worldly to appreciate such a vision. She decided if God was touching her life in this special way, He did not intend for her to broadcast it all over and become a laughing stock.

Besides, her mother would dismiss the idea as her imagination and foolish delusions of her faith. She wanted desperately to believe in something by faith. She wanted to believe in dreams.

“Oh, praise the Lord!” Aunt Martha said as she threw her hands in the air.

Debbie was comforted by her aunt’s faith.

“I don’t know what to say except the merriest of Christmases to ya’ll.”

“Yes,” Joe said as he patted his daughter’s knee. “It seems our little girl has earned the right to dream her own dreams now.”

“Roger has no idea we’re coming. I’m not even sure he wants to see me again. I decided I would just call him after we get settled in. I wasn’’t exactly honest with him.”

“Well, the good Lord willing, he will be open to coming to our house again for a Christmas feast,” Aunt Martha said.

Again, Debbie was struck by her aunt’s animated joy.

“Well, no sense in counting our chickens before they are hatched,” Mary said. “The doctors said they were guardedly optimistic. It could come back.””

Debbie smiled weakly at her mother as she so desperately wanted her to embrace her joy as well. Her mother’s practicality sometimes clouded her capacity to fully experience optimism and hope.

“I fail to see what Debbie sees in this Roger what’s-his-name,” Mary said somewhat sarcastically.

“Wilson,” Debbie retorted.

“Okay,” Uncle Will interjected. “Debbie came out here a few weeks ago to find some neutral territory and we gave it to her. Let’’s keep it that way.”

Uncle Will’s steely gaze met Debbie’s in the rearview mirror. Her uncle and her mother rarely saw eye to eye and sometimes her mother failed to fully appreciate Uncle Will’s jovial and positive outlook on life. She so enjoyed her uncle’s “live and let live” philosophy on life and she cherished the peace she felt when she was in his presence.

“Okay, William.”

Debbie winced at her mother’s reference to Uncle Will. She would even use her more formal name of Deborah when she was angry with her.

Will had a homier ring to it. She could share things with Will and maybe that’s why her mother failed to see him as he really was, full of earthy wisdom. It wasn’t because she didn’t have hundreds of opportunities, her mother had never really gotten to know her own brother as “Will.”

The saddest part was that her mother was only giving her this trip as a reward for living, a payoff of sorts. If things did work out with Roger, her mother would not get in the way. Yet, as far as the heart went, Debbie’s mother still couldn’t understand it. Everything was measured proportionately for her.

Life was supposed to be orderly, planned out. If something went wrong or happened outside her mother’s perceptions of how it should be, her mother would make sure everyone else would suffer with her.

Someone had once told her that some people hurt the ones they loved the most. She did love her mother, but—

“Roger does know.” Aunt Martha’s words pierced Debbie’s thoughts.

“He visited us yesterday at my request. I only thought it fair he knows. He was a nice young man. In fact, it was just before he and a friend were going to travel to Yuma to see the friend’s brother for Christmas.”

“The alleged friend’s name wouldn’t have been Wayne?””

“Why yes. Know him?”

“Oh.” Debbie let out an unintentional giggle. “We met once.”

“See what I mean, Joe,” her mother snapped. “Another one.”

Debbie was shocked when the car veered to the right and Uncle Will turned the vehicle into a local McDonald’s parking lot.

“Will, what in heaven’s name are you doing?” Aunt Martha scolded.

“I need to make a rest stop and this is as good a place as any.” His steely eyes met Debbie’s from the rearview mirror as he addressed Mary. ““My sister needs to take five, too.”

Debbie was always amazed at the power her Uncle Will had over her mother, because she did not protest and opened her car door promptly. She reflected on Roger’s Christmas trip. It was just like him to do something like that, and if anybody could teach her mother about the heart, Roger could.

“Come on, William.” Her mother beckoned.

“It’s Will.” Uncle Will corrected.

Her mother didn’t respond, and Debbie was fascinated that her uncle was taking such an interest in her relationship with Roger. She sighed as she secretly prayed to God that her cancer was truly in remission, because she realized just how in love she was with a Marine who had stolen her heart when she least expected it.

***

Roger shut the door to the cab dejectedly. “Come back at ten! Do you believe it? Why is this happening to me!”

The cab driver chuckled. “Because you are still wet behind the ears, and young and dumb. We all have those days occasionally. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? You’ve got a long wait.”

“I suppose. It’s only a quarter ‘til eight. All I want is my keys. We’ll never get to Yuma!”

“Yuma?” The cab driver quizzed as he headed back to town.

“Yeah, you see, man, this weekend is something else, you know.”

“My name is Tony, yours?”

“Roger.” He squirmed in the passenger’s seat at the thought of being drawn in further to this stranger’s confidence. “I guess we should get to know each other on a first-name basis if I’m going to cry on your shoulder.”

“Sure.” Tony let out a laugh. “No use confessing to a complete stranger.”

“No, I guess not. It’s just that it’s important to get to Yuma. Just like it’s important for a little boy to get to Japan.”

“Japan?” Tony raised his eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I ran into this kid—”

“The same kid that flagged me down this morning I’ll bet.”

“You told him he didn’t have enough money?”

“That’s him.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him the broader truth?”

“I couldn’t. I figured it would dampen his spirits enough that he would give up and just go back home.

“Hardly. He is very determined, and now he’s out here roaming the streets.” Roger fidgeted in his seat again. For some reason, this kid was drawing him in, and he believed he had to find him.

“Drop me off where you picked me up.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got some time to kill. I want to see if I can find him. Talk to him.”

“No way.”

“What?”

“You’d never find him on foot. Let’s partner up and increase the odds.” Tony smiled broadly as he flipped off the taxi meter. “Tony’s Cab at your service and it’s on me.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s Christmas and us brothers gotta stick together.” Tony winked. “Battalion 2010 US Army, Vietnam, circa 1971. I saw a lot of kids over there that didn’t have half the chance your friend and this kid have. Count your blessings that the war is over and you don’t have to see any action over there.””

Roger was speechless. No matter how many times he forgot in the last several hours, something always pulled him back to the reality of the holiday that touched his heart. Thank God for the memories of Midnight Mass and Santa’s penchant for never being discovered putting presents under the tree.

Now here was Tony and the warmth of the Christmas spirit in the cab. Even without a Nebraska snow, this was turning into a rewarding Christmas indeed.

“Don’t look too surprised,” Tony said. “I was blessed to survive Nam, a lot of my buddies didn’t. I just had a revelation that my life still counts for something. My cab counts and that little boy counts.” Tony frowned for a split second. “I must be losing my marbles, too. I just can’t figure it, but I feel absolutely on top of the world.”

Roger smiled as he scratched at his chest. The warmth was barely noticeable as the key glowed dimly. He glanced out the window and spied a butterfly perched on a cactus plant. The oddness of the scene did not escape his attention.

In fact, he recalled seeing lots of butterflies of late.

***

“I don’t understand what you’re telling me?” Mary pleaded with her brother.

“I’m telling you that your daughter is alive. You know, I get the impression that you’re just opening the door for Debbie in return for her great gift to you for not dying.””

“How dare you? You have no right to talk to me that way. You have no idea what this family has been through the past few months.” Mary started to cry and Will realized her strong exterior was just a front. “I’m not sure Joe and I are going to make it.”

“What!”

“It’s not just the cancer. It’s everything. Debbie has changed. Joe has changed. They’ve slipped away from me.”

“Now, now, I think you may be interpreting it all wrong. Have you tried to roll with those changes? You can’t control everything, dear sister, although, I know your pride has always stood in your way for changing your way of handling things. Everything has always had to be so neat and orderly for you, and since Debbie met Roger and she received the cancer diagnosis, well that was two curve balls and too much for you to handle. They just didn’t fit into your perfect plans for your daughter. What are you so scared of?”

“I don’t get you. A Marine flies into Memphis and out again and—”

“Did Debbie tell you why she came last time?”

“No, I—”

“I’ll tell you then. She came because she feared she might not have that long to live and she saw a dream that God had given her. She knew that she might never be able to possess it, but she knew while there was still life, there was still hope. Hope transformed into love. Love, the strongest power of the universe. Love transformed into faith and faith into peace of mind. She told me it sounded crazy. I told her it sounded wonderful.”

He had totally disarmed her with the comment, even though he felt somewhat guilty, he charged ahead anyway, unable to stop defending his niece.

“I don’t understand it all myself, but maybe Roger is the best thing that ever happened to your daughter. Maybe neither one will be able to share the moment but for a nanosecond, but I do believe there was a pretty strong spark that lit up the night sky at our house. I just brought you in here to tell you to climb off your high horse, join us down here in the real world for a change, and let Debbie decide for herself whether Roger can fulfill her dreams or not. For crying out loud, Mary, try to learn something from all this.”

There was the slightest trace of emotion to his voice which he tried to get under control. Having failed in his effort, he turned away from her.

“Will.”

His body stiffened and he closed his eyes as he prepared himself for what she might say next.

“Thank you.”

He opened his eyes and turned to see her leaving the restaurant. He had finally given his sister a piece of his mind—and he wasn’t sure—but had he pierced her hard exterior?

As Will got into the car, he glanced at his wife and smiled.

“Joe, I believe we all should go to Uncle Will and Aunt Martha’s and have one of those old-fashioned Christmases where we string popcorn and sing Christmas carols. And, Debbie, I think you should see if you can somehow connect with Roger and invite him up to meet us when he gets back from his Yuma jaunt. I want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Will broke out into song as he glanced at Debbie in the rearview mirror again, she joined in as did his sister.

Uncle Will knew this was a Christmas he would not soon forget.

***

“Well, I’ve got to get moving. You know the kid probably went on home.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Roger said rubbing his forefinger around the rim of his coffee cup. “Thanks for all you’ve done, Tony, and Merry Christmas to you.”

“The same to you. You know, there are many battlefields in life. I hope you win your war. I wish there was more I could do, but I do know this. Thanks to you and that kid, I’m going home early today.”

“How come?”

“I’ve had my priorities all mixed up. I got a family and I’m going home to celebrate Christmas with them like I ought to. To heck with the cab today. Let ‘‘em walk.” He threw his head back in laughter. “I wish you and your friend the best of luck.”

As Roger watched the cab driver walk out of the restaurant, he took a sip of his coffee. He was shocked to taste the tea he had partaken of on Laguna Beach.

Gazing across the table he was surprised to see the little man who had given it to him. He also realized something else. His entire body felt light, renewed, and in awe of the radiance of peace the man emitted. His mind instantly recalled a snapshot of a much holier man, Jesus Christ. He didn’t understand the vision. He felt frustrated that he couldn’’t feel a deeper connection with the white-robed figure.

As quickly as it appeared in his mind, the vision evaporated, but it was quickly replaced with the thought that this man was somehow an emissary of God and was a mirage of his everyday reality.

“It’s about time that I recognize you while I’m the ‘mortal Roger.’’” He knew his persona was asleep as the spirit of Roger spoke forth actual words.

“I am afraid that will be short lived,” Zeke said quite somberly. “I must ask you for the key back.”

“What!”

“The key is no longer yours. It belongs to the world. Someone else needs it. I have another mission I am afraid, but you, you also have another mission, you must find the boy.”

“Wait a minute, I know you are an angel and all—”

“Pipe down. You want us both to get thrown in the looney bin.”

“No.” Roger laughed at the absurdity of this conversation. Everything was beginning to come into focus and it made him feel good inside. “You are not going to take all of this away from me, are you? I mean, there is a God, there is a destiny that rules our life and—” The truth settled in and the vision of Christ came back.

“‘I believe in life! I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father but through Me.’ All this wasn’t for Wayne and Wes at all, it was for me!””

“An ultimate paradox isn’t it,” Zeke declared. “The Roger who knows of my existence is the spirit of Roger, the soul of Roger is still being tossed and turned by the youthfulness of life, with age and experience, more wisdom will come, but it may take many years. But the spirit of Roger is becoming stronger and stronger. The key has made it so.”

“I guess so. I’ve learned friendship is more than a night out, more than a good time. It means sticking by a friend through thick and thin and accepting that person for what he is, not what we expect he should be.”

“An A plus.”

“Love is not a flitting thing. It forces you to learn more about yourself. It asks you to risk your heart. It is not definable. It is much like the wind, you can’t see it, but you can feel it.”

“Good, very good.”

“Zeke, why are you here? Why do you want the key back? Don’t you know the earthly Roger will screw it all up? He needs the power of the key.”

“Tsk, tsk. Nonsense. The power is not in the key…it is in the heart within yourself. The Holy Spirit will guide you and lead you. You just have to believe that I, like Jesus, will never abandon nor forsake you.” He held out his hand for the key.

Roger took off the key reluctantly and placed it in Zeke’s palm.

“Don’t look so sad. You are on a journey, just as everyone on this earth is. You have passed many tests. The absolute purpose of the key was to put all the pieces in place. They are and it’s all there. Roger will learn that he can believe in miracles. It is now up to you, each of you, alone and together.”

“I know. No one stands alone. Now, I’m not the one that can say good-bye easily. I’m going to miss you, but thanks just the same.””

“It’s important that you finish your tea. I must be going now.”

Roger nodded as he watched Zeke exit the restaurant. He drank the remainder of the tea as his last thought about Zeke and the key faded as a vapor in the wind.

As he flipped a quarter on the table, he subconsciously scratched his neck where the golden key had once been.

“God, please help me find that kid.” The prayer that came from his lips unnerved him. He rarely called on God to help him, but somehow this Christmas, he couldn’t kick the feeling that God was closer to him than ever in his twenty-one years of life.

Chapter Five

Roger hung up the phone after calling the bail bondsman. It made him feel better having done something toward getting his friend out of jail. They had said they would meet him at the jail in a couple of hours. That would give him time to walk out to the Highway Patrol office and get his keys while he cleared his head.

“Mister.”

Roger could not believe his good fortune as he turned and looked upon the boy he had seen earlier.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you before.”

“That’s all right. You probably had a right to. How are you doing? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I’m scared. I want to go home, but my mother will really be mad at me. I guess going to Japan was a bad idea, huh.”

Roger laughed. “Maybe, but your heart is in the right place. Hey, champ, tell you what. I’ve got to get my car keys and get my friend out of jail. What do you say I walk you home and help explain things to your mother so you won’’t get in too much trouble, then maybe she can drive me out to get my keys and save us all a lot of grief.”

“Okay, mister.”

“Call me Roger.” The boy grinned for the first time since Roger had met him. “What have you been doing since I last saw you?””

The boy’s lower lip began trembling. “Mom is always saying that if you really love somebody you need the wisdom—I think that is the word——to set them free for the good of the thing you love. Since I couldn’t go to Japan, I decided to go to the graveyard where my father and brother are buried. I did some thinking and crying.”

His lower lip was still trembling, but he had gained a proud composure. Roger was struck how the young boy reminded him of a great orator who was speaking far beyond his years.

Roger kneeled next to the boy. “Did you set them free?”

“Yes.” The boy ran into Roger’s arms and let the tears flow. “Why did they die?”

The question pierced Roger’s soul as he was moved to tears himself. Why did anyone die? The newborn grief of his aunt’s death swam to the surface, but as he felt the sobs of this little boy and continued to comfort him, something began to happen to him.

This boy still had so much life before him, and so did he. They were the survivors. Maybe all of his questions boiled down to one. Maybe it was what one did with life that mattered.

Life was for touching other lives as he was doing now, as he had done with Wayne, Debbie, and Anita. He now knew he needed to go to Laura’s grave the next time he was home and to set her free. He hadn’t been there since she died. To stay away was to deny her death, to deny the things of the heart she had given him.

It was time to set her free.

The boy pulled away. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I don’t even know your name,” Roger said, wiping the tears from the boy’s eyes.

“It’s David.”

“Well, hey, David, that’s all right. You feel better don’t you.”

“Yeah.”

“What say you introduce me to your mother? She sounds like she has plenty of wisdom to pass around.”

For the moment, Roger had forgotten all of his present problems. David reminded him of the little brother he never had.

He was home this Christmas. After all, home is where the heart is.

***

Wayne came back to his cell, and his heart leapt for joy. For once in his twenty years, he was wrong—dead wrong—and he enjoyed the taste of that defeat. That is what he had been looking for. He needed to be proven wrong and to be shown that Wayne Bennett did not have all the answers.

Most of all, he had found a friend he could trust. He laughed aloud as his fellow inmates gave him disquieting stares. He didn’t care.

He had set out to help Roger gain confidence in himself. To come out of his shell. To believe in life.

Now, he had a renewed strength and belief in life himself. Roger had given it to him without realizing it.

They had helped each other through the friendship that bonded them. Roger was waiting on him. Roger had called the same bails bondsman he had.

Roger showed Wayne that he cared. He was out there all alone trying to do the best that he could to get Wayne out of the mess he had gotten himself into.

Roger did not play by the same concrete jungle rules he had known as a kid growing up in Chicago. He had been wrong. Numero uno was not the most important. To care for someone else was not as scary as he had thought. He had risked a lot by caring for Roger. He was reaping the rewards of that risk.

“You’ll understand someday when you give of yourself to someone else or they give something special to you.” His mother’’s words seemed to echo off the cell’s walls.

Today was the day he did understand, and it was his happiest Christmas ever. The greatest gift of all was his friendship with Roger, and now the bars no longer threatened him. He was free.

As he closed his eyes to try to calm the adrenalin rush coursing through his body, he saw his father wave at him from a distance. He now knew his father was all right.

For the first time in six years, the part of him that was his father’s legacy spread over him and through his spirit.

***

“I don’t believe it.”

“Neither do I, it’s truly a small world. That’s my brother.” Roger witnessed in awe the picture of Paul and Jack in Evita Alvarez’s house as he put his arm around Dave. This bizarre twist to an already unbelievable weekend was too much for him to digest.

“My prayers have been answered,” Evita whispered. “Excuse me. I think I have something for your brother.”

Roger moved to the couch and sat down, still in shock, as Dave stared at the picture, and then turned to look at Roger for a long while before he spoke. “God doesn’t always answer prayers the way we think He should, does He?”

“Huh?” Roger said.

“I mean, sometimes He answers with different things just as good.”

“I don’t know,” Roger said, dismissing Dave’s question. He didn’’t even know what the kid was talking about.

“Here,” Evita said as she handed Roger the well-worn envelope. “It was addressed to your brother. It was among his personal effects. I could never find the courage to open a letter my son wrote to a stranger. But you are no longer a stranger.” Her lower lip was trembling. Please call him. Read it to him.” She went to Dave and put her arms around him. “Read it to us.”

Roger took the letter opener Evita had handed to him as he knew, without a doubt, he was about to open a door long ago closed. As he ripped the letter open and began to read to himself, the burden that lifted from his shoulders was liberating. How had this set of circumstances come to pass? How had he found his way to this house?”

“It is now up to you, each of you, alone and together.” Roger closed his eyes as a vision flashed in his mind. As quickly as it had ignited, it was gone.

He opened his eyes again and continued reading. Then he closed his eyes and wept. This vision lasted longer and impacted him more forcefully.

She was smiling at him and waving. On Thanksgiving, he had set Anita free. This Christmas, he was able to set his aunt Laura free.

***

Dave Alvarez watched Roger open the letter with anticipation he had never known before. Now when he needed it most, no one seemed to understand that he was in the room anxiously waiting for someone to tell him who the letter was from.

He began to see that no one was going to give him the answer. Roger was too busy devouring the contents of the letter and his mother was crying.

“Who’s it from, Mom?”

“Jack,” Evita said as she ran her fingers through Dave’s hair. “Your brother has come home for Christmas.”

Dave stared at the letter Roger was holding. He wanted to cry and jump for joy at the same time. His mother was right. His brother had come home for Christmas, but it was not the one he had expected to see.

He reflected on what life would have been like if Jack had come home from Vietnam, and suddenly realized it was just as hard on Bob having to be away from home as it was on him right now. He mentally resolved to be tough, to stick it out, to take care of his mother. After all, right now he was the man of the house.

After what seemed forever to Dave, this stranger who touched his world in a brotherly sort of way and revealed his brother to him, finally spoke.

“Where’s the phone?”

***

“Just a smidge,” Barbara said to Donna as she added some salt to the dressing.

“Sorry.” It was hard for Donna to focus on the task at hand, her mind was still on the remains of her tattered relationship with Paul.

“What’s wrong? Are you and Paul doing okay?”

“Does it show?”

“Only since you both arrived. This is Christmas. Time to loosen up, enjoy yourself.”

“I can’t, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Barbara to you. You’re having problems, you’ll work them out.”

“Should we?”

“That’s up to you. Here, sit down and I’ll get you some coffee. While the men are out gabbing about machinery and such, we can have a heart-to-heart talk.

Donna sat down as she recalled Paul’s coldness to her on the way here. She had done little to improve the mood, refusing to engage in any kind of conversation. His car was probably totaled, but she was grateful he was okay. He was having a rough time dealing with the past, and she didn’t know how to help him. She was afraid she might have gone too far by taking off the engagement ring.

“Here you go,” Barbara cooed as she poured her a cup of coffee. “Would you mind if I shared an observation.”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

“Well,” Barbara said as she sat down next to Donna and patted her hand, “sometimes we can’t see the root of our problems because we are too close to them, but an outsider, an informed outsider, can. Take Roger, for instance. Do you know why he joined?

“Not really?”

“He joined to sever ties with Mark, for one thing. They were friends, sure, but Mark was always putting ballasts on Roger to hold him down. For Mark, the friendship meant they could never be separated, not even by love.”

“But they were the best of friends.”

“Yes, but hasn’t that friendship changed?”

Donna thought for a moment. “Why, yes, I guess it has. Anita had a big hand in that though.”

“Maybe. Anyway, second, Roger wanted to prove to himself and to others that he could complete something for once in his life. The Marine Corps offered that challenge.”

“What does all that have to do with Paul and me?”

“Plenty. Roger has affected all our lives whether we want to admit it or not. For Mark, it has changed his social surroundings and allowed him to see new sides to life. Anita has found love and God. As for Ed and me, our parental roles have evolved. We no longer have to care for our children, rather we need to rediscover each other. As for Paul, well, it has plunged him back into the memories, the pain, and the search.”

“Search?”

“Since Paul came home, I’ve seen it every painful day. He left believing in everything good and God. He came back minus God. He has never been able to reconcile his friend’s death.

“His friend, Jack, yes I know all about it.”

“Well, we didn’t until Thanksgiving and Anita’s accident brought an earthquake to Blair. What I’m saying is, whether you want to believe my observations or not, I would say God is working in mysterious ways. We have to help it along if we want to.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Just then, the phone rang.

Donna was disappointed the elder woman was not going to give her the answer right away as Barbara wiped her hands on a towel hanging from the refrigerator and picked up the phone to answer.

Donna saw Barbara’s disposition light up as she heard her call out her youngest son’s name. Tears streamed down her face as she realized she did not have a clue how to help the man she loved.

“Quick, Donna, go get Paul, he needs to hear this.”

She numbly got up and went outside, wanting so desperately to feel his arms around her and to tell her everything was going to be okay.

***

Dear Paul,

I’m writing this in case something should happen to me over here. There’s so much I would like to share with you to help you live on into the future. I guess if something happens to you, I can pull this letter out and reread it. I hope I will be able to believe it. I hope you can.

A word has kept me going over here and that word is hope. I never thought about it much until I got over here, but living one day at a time, not knowing if the next is your last, you tend to think a lot on it.

I was fifteen years old when my grandfather died. I remember so vividly the last time I saw him alive on his deathbed as if it were just yesterday. He smiled at me. After all that he had gone through, he smiled at me. I will never forget that moment.

He died of pancreatic cancer, and I have replayed that smile in my head over and over because it spells the word hope for me. He was only fifty-six, and he wanted desperately to live.

He had a lot to live for; a thriving business, four children, two of them still at home aged thirteen and seventeen, and his wife of thirty-seven years.

I remember all the hope that flowed from his spirit during his illness. He always had an ear to listen, and he was always the first one there when people needed him.

It was a shock to everyone who knew him when he was diagnosed with cancer. Anyone but him, they all said. It did not seem to fit into life’s plan. We do not fit into life’s plan being in this sinkhole, this Godforsaken jungle where you never know when you might trip over a landmine or walk into an ambush.

Who is the enemy, Paul? Who is our ally? There is so much both of us could be doing with our lives elsewhere, but yet we are here. Maybe the reason fate has placed us in this situation is to develop our own hope within our soul.

My grandfather began farming out hope right where he was, not in any flashy way, but in his quiet way of not complaining, of accepting his condition and showing people he was not about to give up on life. To the very end, he felt that he was going to take his cancer to the woodshed and ‘give it one heck of a whooping.’”

He had to, but it was not to be. He prepared us all for what was to happen with his hope.

He did not survive, but he did do something else. He managed to unite everyone around his bedside and influenced and changed people’s perception of life.

He celebrated his thirty-seventh anniversary with my grandma, knowing full well it might be their last. He believed a miracle could and would happen.

It did. Over the years, I have come to see that. There have been times I have felt my grandfather’s presence in my darkest hours. I’ve felt his presence over here now and again as he seems to whisper in my ear not to give up the battle, not to despair.

I know my grandfather is in heaven, wherever that is. He had a strong Christian faith in God and so did Grandma. I have never been able to live up to the kind of faith he had. I realize I am so much like my grandfather. I know I may lose the battle over here, you may lose the battle, any one of us can lose our life in an instant.

I hated cancer, I hate this war. I guess in this letter I am asking for my own miracle. I want to believe if I don’t make it home, my life has meant something. I want to leave my own legacy.

It was at my grandfather’s grave that I resolved to believe in God and to try to do my best in this life. I know that my grandfather is waiting on the other side for me. That is true hope. Even if death separates you and me, we shall meet again.

Do something for me if I am gone after this horrible war is over. Don’t give up, rather dream on. I will be with you. I will be helping you.

I promise to do the same if I am the one rereading these words for my own comfort, if something should happen to you.

Grandfather has been a part of me these past few years. Please open yourself up and let me be a part of you. Help others, and above all, be happy.

Believe there is a grand design in this world and within us lies the greatest force of all, the heart which leads to the soul which leads to life.

Do not mourn me. Life is for living. Always remember that. Remember the happy times and the good we shared.

Never abandon hope.

Your best friend,

Jack

***

“Thanks for sharing the letter, Rog,” Paul said as he his hand remained frozen on the telephone receiver. “May God bless you this Christmas.””

“He already has.”

Paul hung up the phone, pondering his conversations with Jack about answered prayer. Jack always said he believed sometimes our prayers were answered in ways we could never imagine, and that sometimes our expectations needed to change, so that when the real blessing God intended came, we would not miss it.

He now believed he had just witnessed the answer to his own Vietnam prayer over Jack’s lifeless body.

“What’s wrong?” Barbara asked as she took her son’s hand in hers. ““You look as if you have seen a ghost? Roger is all right, isn’t he?”

“Sure.” Paul grinned to himself as he recalled some of the tight spots he and Jack had been in which bonded them closer as friends. “His friend is in a tight spot and he’’s working to help him out. He’s learning some lessons about life I would say.

“I have to bury something once and for all,” he said as he tenderly took Donna’s hand. “I don’t want to do it alone. We are in this together, aren’t we?” Donna grasped his hand firmly. “Jack has released me. It’s time I released him. It’s all too complicated to explain now.”

“We’ll hold the food until you get back,” Barbara called after them.

Donna remained silent as Paul pulled her along.

***

“Wow,” Dave Alvarez said as the police car drove up to the Chevy Monte Carlo.

“Well, it looks like it’s in one piece anyway. What do I owe you?”

“Not a thing. I assure you Patrolman Sanchez will get a strong reprimand for this.”

“Nah. Don’t be too hard on him. You see, it’s been quite a revealing Christmas for me, and Sanchez just helped it along a little. I’’ll admit I was steamed at first, but I’m not anymore. This is Christmas, you know.”

The officer rolled his eyes as Roger got out of the car shutting the door behind him. Dave walked around the car and Roger chuckled at how wide-eyed the young lad was.

“Well, Dave, it sure is spiffy, but you know what?”

“What?”

“People are more important. I guess, I’ve learned that lesson this Christmas.”

Dave jumped into the passenger side of the car, then Roger did a wild U-turn as he rolled down the window and felt the hot desert air hit his face. “Let’s get Wayne out of jail, what do you say?”

“Yeah.” Dave grinned. “Will you have to leave right away?”

“You ought to know better than anyone that Wayne has to get to Yuma to see his brother. That’s what this trip was all about.”

“I know. Hey, I’m glad your friend got arrested.”

“What?”

“We wouldn’t have met otherwise, and my brother was home for Christmas, the one I wasn’t expecting.”

Roger was amazed at the youth’s childlike faith and his positive outlook. How had he lost some of that along the way? “You’ve made your point.””

“Will you write?”

Roger measured his words before he responded. “Sure. I wouldn’t think of not writing to a neat friend like you.”

Dave grinned sheepishly as Roger pulled up in front of the jail. “Keep the seat warm, champ. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

He stared at the jail, an institution that had challenged him this weekend. He didn’t know exactly what he was feeling at this particular moment. The past few hours had been unreal, but he hadn’t been left untouched by them.

He saw that the same receptionist from earlier was emptying a wastebasket and still chewing on her gum. Roger hoped it was not the same stick.

“Your friend just left. He was going to hitch out to your car.”

“Oh, man.” Roger ran out of the jail, jumped into the car, and let out a war whoop.

“What?”

“Wayne is out of jail, that’s what. Merry Christmas, champ.”

“Merry Christmas,” there was a moment of silence that hung in the car, “friend.”

Roger choked back a sob.

***

Wayne was trudging along wondering exactly how sane he was trying to find Roger’s car by hitching to it. There seemed to be no other way. He had no idea where his friend could be. Besides, if he just stayed on the main drag, Roger would see him if he was looking.

Wayne had made the decision to call his mother when he got to Yuma after he rounded up his brother. The two were going to tell her what they really thought about all she had done for them as a single mother. He suddenly felt that he hadn’t told her he loved her often enough.

He turned to thumb down a ride again when he saw the familiar Monte Carlo. He had never seen such a welcomed sight. The car pulled up and the door swung open.

“Am I ever glad to see your mug.” Wayne said as he hopped into the backseat. “Who’s this?”

“Meet the champ,” Roger said. “This is Dave Alvarez, and man, do we have a lot to tell you.”

“Can you and Wayne come to dinner?” Dave said as he looked at Roger hopefully.

“Hey, champ, remember what I said.”

Wayne glanced at his friend. “You say you have a story to tell?”

“Yep, it’s a beauty.”

“Well, hey.” Wayne roughed up the boy’s curly hair. “I believe we have some time to get a good square meal. My brother doesn’t even know we’re coming yet. We’ll get there, better late than never.””

Wayne glanced at Roger again, but Roger turned away. Wayne was not one to give up. Eventually Roger turned again and looked him squarely in the eye. Roger was grinning this time.

Wayne had seen it again, Roger’s inner soul, inner spirit. This time neither man was running. Wayne was grateful to be here with Roger, to be friends, to be Marines.

To be together.

***

Donna sat in the car as Paul walked up the steps to the church. She watched his posture carefully. Yes, he was facing it. He was doing exactly what she wanted him to do, but not here. She was frightened.

Here is where it made all the difference in the world. She cautiously opened her car door.

“He’s made it.”

Donna was startled by the priest’s presence at her side. She had not expected anyone to see her here. She wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. “Made it?”

“He should not go in alone.”

“What do you mean, alone?”

“Aren’t you his fiancée?”

“I was.” It seemed everyone was out to expose her for her selfish deeds. “I’m not Catholic,” she blurted the words out, wanting to take them back as soon as they were expressed.

The priest put his hand to his chin. “That doesn’t sound like mature faith to me.”

“What?”

“Being Catholic or Protestant or whatever has nothing to do with it.” He stared at the church. “Finding God has everything to do with it.””

He walked away, leaving her confused and disoriented. She looked up at the stately church. It was challenging her. She was mad and confused. She walked toward the steps, then up them, becoming angrier with each step. She opened the door and walked in. She saw Paul in front, his head bowed and shoulders shaking.

She turned to leave as she felt a cool breeze blow past her arm. She hugged herself as a chill ran up her spine.

Something caught her eye and pulled her back. She became rooted to the spot as she looked at the cross and the Man who hung on it. She became mesmerized as something touched her heart, her spirit.

“Go on.” She heard her brother John say in her mind. “He needs you. Are you going to abandon him now after all you have been through?””

Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she tried to pull herself away. She suddenly wanted to run from the cross, this church, but most of all, her brother’s voice.

But it was to no avail. She allowed her tense body to relax as she gave in and began to see her occupation as a nurse in a new light. Caring for the sick and dying was her calling.

She suddenly remembered a special child who had come under her care six months ago. The child was only nine years old and died of complications from a brain tumor. After the child’s death, she had received a beautiful thank-you letter from the parents for inspiring the last days of the girl’s life.

She put one foot in front of the other as she slowly gravitated down the aisle toward the foot of the magnificent cross.

For the first time in her life, she understood that being a nurse had nothing to do with money and prestige. It meant giving in to answering the call to be a humble caregiver. She had it all backward.

Again, a chill ran through her body as her brother’s laughter played through her mind. She envisioned his boyish grin and his hair blowing in the wind as he was running and jumping through a green pastoral scene.

“Yes,” she whispered to herself as she lifted her eyes to meet the ones that gazed down upon her from the cross. “John is doing just fine, isn’’t he? He is free.”

She felt Paul’s strong hands upon her shoulders. “What’s happening to us?” she asked.

“A miracle,” he whispered in her ear. “I finally have the courage to let Jack go.”

She was openly sobbing now as she turned to fall in his arms, and the smell and touch of his body against hers warmed her in an odd sort of a way.

“I’m going to enroll in college this spring.”

Donna allowed a gasp to escape from her lips. Paul had never given any indication that he had academic aspirations.

“Jack taught me a lot in Vietnam about caring. He gave me a lot to go on. Maybe there’s some kid out there who needs me, who needs what Jack gave me. I don’t know, teaching, counseling, a way to give back. I need to explore some options. I want to fulfill his dream of becoming a high school guidance counselor in some way so that his life meant something.”

“That was his dream?”

“It was, and now it is mine. Oh, Donna, I’ve been too complacent to life. I wanted everybody else to do the dreaming. I haven’t been in a slump because Jack died, but because everything our friendship represented in the trenches also died. I couldn’t control his death, but I can control the spirit of life he gave me. I can keep dreaming and living. Make sense?”

“Oh, Paul.” She gently let her head rest against his chest. “It’s kind of a call, then?”

“Yeah, like you and your nursing.”

She almost let out a giggle. How could she tell him she hadn’t figured that out until just now? Anyway, at this point it didn’t matter. “Where to from here?””

“We’ll take it one day at a time. I realize now where my mistake was. I was believing in a God, not in God.”

“Funny how one word changes the meaning. Is that what Father Augustus calls mature faith?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve got a long way to go.”

“So do I.”

“Let’s do it together then.” She truly meant it as she reached out her hand and they turned and walked down the aisle, out of the church and into the future which there were no guarantees, only their reliance on each other.

As Donna arrived at the car, she gazed back at the church. “Your mother was right.”

“About what?”

“Roger joining the Corps. It changed all our lives. I had one thing figured out before today though.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, this is going to sound silly, but with all the spiritual type things that were going on around Thanksgiving, I had this eerie feeling it was coinciding with my brother’s birthday for a reason.”

“To answer your question,” Paul said as he looked at her then back to his wrecked car. “Jack’s birthday was today.”

She got in the car. That conversation would go no further. She looked up as the sun burst out of the clouds. She wondered if everything that people had done before their deaths was as important as what they did afterward. She secretly questioned if guardian angels were born from the spirits of those who went before, silently watching over the living, helping them make it through life.

The thought was foreign to her and had no place in her logical mind, but the pleasantness of it allowed the thought to remain. That would mean that death was not the end, but only a new dawning.

As she looked back at Paul, she suddenly saw much more in his countenance. She saw life. She saw hope. She saw love.

She settled back into her seat and fastened her seat belt. Donna couldn’t wait to tell Anita she had indeed found God in a most unexpected place—her heart.

***

Wayne, Wes, and Speed sat in the Saddle Club in Yuma each nursing a beer as they watched Roger and Debbie out on the dance floor.

“Would you look at Aunt Martha and Uncle Will go,” Speed said. “You’d think they weren’t spring chickens anymore.”

“You talk about them like they were your own,” Wayne said teasing.

“Well, in a way they are.” Speed winked. “It was quite a revealing drive down here with the Martin clan. I would say Uncle Will and Aunt Martha are like two matchmaking guardian angels. I’ve never quite seen a love like they share.”

“It sounds like I’ve been missing out on a lot,” Wes said, lifting his beer. “A toast to Roger what’s-his-name. A friend of my bro’s is a friend of mine. Now, if he would get off the dance floor long enough, I might get to know him.”

“I’m afraid you won’t succeed as long as Debbie’s here,”” Speed said. “You know, Wayne, I’m not one to believe in things happening for a reason or destiny, but these past few weeks has been one doozy of a ride.”

“I know,” Wayne said as he let out a low whistle. “The Christmas spirit has definitely landed in the middle of this desert.””

“Marines watch after their own,” Wes said. “What Roger did for you was fantastic.”

“Roger had told me something on the way down here that I can’t get out of my mind. He said he had decided to take the weekend for what it was and not for what he thought it should be.”

“You mean, like it’s all in one’s attitude toward life.”

“And toward Dad’s death.”

There was a pause as Speed excused himself from the table.

“Hey, bro,” Wes finally broke the silence between the two brothers. “It’s Christmas, what do you say we call Mom.”

***

On the dance floor, Roger and Debbie were smiling at each other as the music slowed down and they took each other in their arms.

“Your friend Speed just asked Mom to dance,” Debbie whispered in his ear.

“Did she accept?”

Debbie giggled. “Yes.”

“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

As she watched Speed and her mother come out on the dance floor, Debbie could have sworn her mother winked at her.

***

In Chicago, Illinois, Janet Bennett finished her letter to both of her sons. She would send it to Wayne, then he could pass it on to Wes.

She sealed it and placed it on top of her bureau. As she retired to her bed, her smile was still plastered to her face from the Christmas conversation over the miles with her sons. She thanked God for providing a Roger Wilson to her son Wayne as a friend.

The details of it all were not important now. He was enjoying life, but, more importantly, he was believing in life again.

She closed her eyes and nodded off to sleep. The last conscious thought she had was that her prayers had been answered.

Her heart suffered an arrhythmic infarction as the clotting disorder she unwittingly suffered from brought all life in her body to an abrupt end.

She entered a dream state and saw the man on the horse approach her. As he got closer, she could see it was her husband. She took his outstretched hand and tried to hang on to him, but her grip only slipped.

“Don’t try to understand, Janet, but it is time to go.”

She reached for his hand again and suddenly she was whisked away, she felt herself floating through the air, down a tunnel of light.

At the end of the tunnel was Roger’s Aunt Laura. She knew all that in an instant. She suddenly had an understanding that surpassed anything she previously believed.

Behind Laura, she saw an even brighter light, an even greater presence. “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

She wanted to cry, but there were no tears. She had suffered as a single mother, she had placed her cares and burdens on the shoulders of Jesus Christ, and now Laura was beckoning her forth.

She turned to give one last look at the world she once knew.

“They have a new brother,” Greg Bennett said. “He will help them.”

Janet grabbed Laura’s arm. “Why can’t they know the reasons for everything? Why can’t we tell them?”

“It’s all right,” Laura said.

The door shut behind them and Janet Bennett was transformed. For her, life held a new beginning.

***

The day after Christmas dawned like any other. Zeke boarded the plane in Los Angeles as his mind raced with the joy of giving away the golden key he wore around his neck.

As he sat in his seat, he knew he had done a good job this last time. He could hear the rejoicing of the angels as Janet Bennett answered her call.

“Where are you headed?”

Zeke came out of his trance and looked upon a man in his late fifties.

“To destiny.” He could not lie. “It is time for a change of seasons in someone’s life.”

As the plane took off, Zeke reflected on what life held for Roger, Wayne, and Wes.

It would be a new journey, which would lead to new insights and discoveries. For Zeke knew the golden key never left anything the same.

It, like life, was a continuum.

Author Bio

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Marvin Wilmes is an observer of the human condition, writes about life's passions, faith and hope and opens the reader's eyes to "the process." In addition to a memoir, Marvin is bringing to the arena a contemporary post Vietnam War era fantasy in three episodes. Marvin is an Iowa resident with Missouri roots, a cancer survivor and most of all, an eclectic storyteller. Writing from a diverse background of experience, Marvin celebrates the the gift of hope and faith in God's purpose for living life and living it more abundantly.

Also by Marvin Wilmes

Beyond the Horizon: Crisis of Faith

The Golden Key: A Quest for Freedom, Episode One

The Golden Key: A Quest for Freedom, Episode Two

Website: www.marvinwilmes.com

Email: keypublications@gmail.com

Facebook: Beyond the Horizon

Marvin Wilmes is a northwest Missouri native, graduating from Northeast Nodaway RV in 1973. Marvin studied broadcasting and journalism at Northwest Missouri State University in Maryville, Mo., graduating in 1982. He served in the United States Marine Corps from 1975-79. Marvin worked for newspapers in Maryville, Mo. and Cherokee, IA, establishing and operating The Chronicle newspaper and Little Sioux Valley Express from 1992 to 1997. Marvin has worked in human services since 1997 and currently resides in Boone, Iowa with his family.