The Blue Knight - the Novella

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The Blue Knight


 

Part One - In a Lifetime

Headquarter's Plaza Parking Garage...Morristown, New Jersey...December, 1986

Hard to tell
Or recognize a sign
To see me through
A warning sign

Caden walked briskly across the pavement, her heels clicking lively as she approached her car. She had parked in daylight, and only under the dark sky of early evening did she notice that the lot was unlit as she got to her car. In a moment, she was slammed against the car when she leaned forward to unlock the door as a large man ripped at her purse. She pulled back by the strap that was sliding down her arm and the man punched her twice, once in the cheek; knocking her to the ground.....

Officer Michael Callahan pulled up the cruiser, flashing the spotlight on the fallen figure lying next to the sedan.

“Officer needs ambulance in the top tier of the parking garage adjacent to Headquarter Plaza,” the call went through to dispatch.

A moment later the girl was cradled in the officer’s strong arms, soft words saying clearly,

"Don't worry, you're okay."

The voice was steady, calming Caden, who by now had sat up. Michael’s cap had tilted forward, almost obscuring the view of the young lady.

“Easy, Ma’am,” the voice continued to soothe and Caden relaxed in Michael’s arms. Michael tilted back the cap visor a bit before wiping Caden’s cheek with a large gauze pad from out of the first aid kit; the blood had begun to cake and Caden’s eyelid was already turning blue. A moment later they were bathed in flashing red lights as the ambulance pulled up and two med techs got out and stepped up to the pair.

“Hey…Meeku” The taller of the two said with a soft laugh; relieved to see Caden stirring once again at their arrival. Michael nodded.

“How’s your family, Ramil?” The man smiled and signaled okay as he knelt down to check Caden, who had slipped back into Michael’s arms after growing dizzy.

“Nasty cut, Ram…butterfly that quick, kay?” Fin said and then called it into the ER. A minute later Caden was strapped to the gurney and they lifted it into the ambulance.

“Thank you…I don’t know your name,” Caden said with smile followed quickly by a wince from the pain of what proved to be a bruised neck.

“Michael…Michael Callahan.” Michael smiled as the door to the ambulance closed. A moment later the ambulance was driving down the exit ramp of the garage.


* * * * *

And as the rain it falls
Begin again
Heavy in my heart
As the storm breaks through
Believe the light in you
So the light shines in you
Without color, faded and worn
Torn asunder in the storm

Caden stirred in the gurney, having drifted off to the serenade of siren and light traffic.

“It’s okay, Ma’am. Just a short trip down the street; the South Street repairs finished yesterday so we don’t have that annoying detour,” Fin said, wiping Caden’s fore head. Caden looked at the doors of the ambulance as if she could still see the officer.

She sighed. One more disappointment. Fifteen months past her first surgery and finally with the last of it behind her; no one’s fault really, but even after a second operation, there was still significant numbness, and the doctor could only say ‘it’s hopeful.’ Having her purse stolen on her birthday would have been bad enough but the crime was compounded by the loss of an antique ring her grandmother had given her. And then she pondered the real loss.

“So…kind,” she said to herself, getting the attention of Ramil, who was checking her pulse.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch what you said.” He apologized.

“Oh…I…” Caden would find out only thirty-six minutes later that she had a concussion, but she was lucid enough to ask the question.

“Oh…Officer… the police officer?”

“Michael Callahan,” Fin said, holding an ice pack on Caden’s cheek.

“Michael….” Caden said almost absent mindedly. Ramil turned to Fin and smiled broadly.

“Michael is a very good police officer….one of the best!” Ramil wasn’t exaggerating. The two had served in Grenada almost three years before and had earned each other’s respect and friendship.

“Michael is one of a kind.” Fin said, laughing softly as she flashed a smile and a conspiratorial wink in Ramil’s direction.

“Yes, one of a kind, I’d say.” The conversation had barely gotten started before Caden felt the ambulance come to a halt.


* * * * *

Morristown Memorial Hospital

Unless the sound
Save your body's soul
Unless it disappears

(First the thunder) Selfish storm
(Then the storm) Hold on the inside
(Torn asunder) One life
In the storm

A few seconds later she was lying on a tall bed in the ER with a nice doctor in a hijab shining a penlight in her left eye.

“I don’t think the socket is broken, but we’ll send you to radiography. The swelling is minimal, so we should be able to get a good film if we get you there right away. I will say I’m positive you have a concussion, and we’ll be keeping you overnight at least for observation.’ Dr. Laleh Aamanpoor said with only the hint of a British accent; a leftover blessing of an education in London. She smiled and was about to turn to the nurse when she felt a hand pull at her sleeve.

“Dr? I’m …can you notify my family doctor? Jane Aldretti?“ Laleh smiled at the recognition of the name.

“Of course. Any family members?” Caden shook her head, and winced at the gesture.

“Easy…no sudden movements Miss O’Rourke. Someone will be here shortly to transport you for x-rays. Everything will be okay.” She smiled and went to walk away but stopped almost as if someone had grabbed her once again. She stepped up to the bed and leaned close.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m sure you’ll check out just fine.” And then, as if she wasn’t close enough, she leaned far enough to look as if she was about to kiss the girl. She whispered softly,

“You don’t have to worry. We have a very discreet and caring staff here. And besides…one could hardly tell. You had some very good doctors.”

Caden immediately frowned and sighed heavily. Laleh noticed and quickly added,

"It's hardly noticeable even if you're looking..." She used her eyes to direct Caden's attention to the girl's neck. Her kerchief had been lost in the scuffle in the parking lot. She frowned again, feeling very insecure. Laleh half-frowned herself before adding,

"I'm sorry. It's been a rough night already, and that didn't help at all." She squeezed the girl's hand. Almost as an afterthought, she repeated herself,

"I'm very sorry, Miss O'Rourke. Please forgive me?"

The girl nodded and half-smiled with a wince, more from the sting of truth of the doctor's words than the pain in her cheek. She laid back on the bed, blinking out tears. It was true that the doctors were excellent; the best in fact. But it also remained painfully true that unless God had a miracle up his divine sleeve, she would never ‘enjoy’ the product of her doctor’s work. But even if she could feel something down there, it was almost assured that someone as nice as Michael Callahan would ever care for a girl who had been born twenty-six years ago that day as Kellen James O’Rourke.


The Callahan home...a while later...

“Hi, Michael, honey. How was your shift?” Michael’s mother said as she hung Michael’s hat on the peg by the door. She always greeted her youngest child with a kiss on the cheek and a question about the day’s events, and today was no exception; actually the clock was more than a few ticks past midnight, so it was Christmas Eve.

“Nothing happened all evening until about an hour ago. A girl was walking to her car and she got mugged. Danny Giraldi is going to follow up at the hospital, since I’ve got to take you to the airport at five. I’m gonna take a shower and then a long cat nap before we head out…give me til about three-thirty.” The sound of the shower was followed by the creak of the bathroom door as it closed. Michael pulled a small bright object from the left shirt pocket, promising to stop by the hospital on the way back from the airport. A moment later, Michael stood at the sink, pushing fingers through thick blond hair.

Michael thought about the woman and sighed. One more day of frustration. No resistance or even notice at work, but it didn’t seem that there would ever be an opportunity for a relationship; life hindered by unnecessary fears and preconceived notions and a very necessary and demanding call to work; needful overtime since Michael’s mother was flying to Phoenix to meet her daughter Linda before a drive to Goodyear to the Cancer Center.

“Dear god…please make Mommy all better,” the child like-prayer spilled out almost as painfully as the tears that fell in the sink. A moment later shameful distraction took over; shameful at least in Michael’s eyes, even If no condemnation came from anyone else. The hands that held the young lady only hours before moved across a willing body even as guilt slowed them. Fingers exploring the soft nipple on the left while the other hand crept tentatively downward. A microsecond later both hands had flown to a face that was red with shamed heat and bitter tears. Guilt over what comprised identity and form and belief; twisting faith awry as accusations filled an already burdened heart.

“Michael? Is everything okay?” Katie Callahan knocked gently on the bathroom door.

“I’m …I’m okay, Mom…..could you put on the kettle for some chamomile tea? I think I’m too tired to sleep, you know?” Michael shouted through the door over the sound of the shower that was already growing cold. Turning to the mirror, the hands pulled away from a very tired and overwhelmingly sad face. A moment later the hot tears dissolved in soapy water as the washcloth moved across Michael’s face. The tears may have disappeared but the crying continued as Michael thought once again about an uneasy but almost irresistible attraction to the woman who had already stolen Michael’s heart.

“Please…god…this hurts too much….I can’t do this …” Michael thought of the demands of the job…the pull of anticipated grief as Katie Callahan fought stage three ovarian cancer. And Michael thought about the attraction to the young lady…the forbidden love, a stubborn and misguided but vocal few had already spoken in haste and ignorance. And Michael calmly stepped into the shower. Turning down the cold to get as much heat into the water stream, Michael sat down on the floor of the shower, spent from all of the day’s disappointments. And she cried.

(First the thunder) Selfish storm
(Then the storm) Hold on the inside
(Torn asunder) One life
In the storm

In a lifetime
In a lifetime
In a lifetime
In a lifetime



In A Lifetime
words and music by
Pá³l Brennan, Ciará¡n Brennan
Performed by
Clannad and Bono
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_klil_eOEY


Part Two - Intersections

 
Headquarter's Plaza Parking Garage...Morristown, New Jersey...Christmas Eve Day, 1986

Tá¡ mé mo shuá­ á³ d`éirigh`n ghealach aréir
Ag cur tein-e sá­os-go buan is á¡ fadá³ go géar
Tá¡ bunadh a` tá­ `na luá­ is tá¡ mise liom féin
Tá¡ na coiligh ag glaoch `san saol `na gcodladh ach mé

When Caden got back to the parking garage the following afternoon she discovered that someone had paid the parking for the previous day as well as for the remainder of the afternoon. Her packages had been placed in the back seat and the keys, which had fallen to the ground during her attack, were left with the attendant. She sighed; it wasn’t that she was ungrateful, but with her purse gone, so much would need replacing. But it was the one irreplaceable item left her feeling very sad; the ring was a gift from her grandmother…the only person on earth that accepted the fact that Kellen O’Rourke no longer existed and that she had a lovely granddaughter named Caden.


Later that afternoon...the O'Rourke home...

“Kellen? Is that you?” Grace O’Rourke called from the kitchen at the sound of the front door. Caden frowned. She had already started to cry on the way home, and had barely contained herself when her mother’s words drove another knife into her heart. She blinked back her tears, vowing to be patient and understanding of the intolerable treatment, but her mother’s next words ruined her plan.

“You know…this is all because of this.” Her mother used her hand in a broad gesture to point to Caden. She went to say something but Grace continued.

“If your father was still alive…what would he think?” She shook her head and grace frowned before speaking.

“If Daddy was still alive, I wouldn’t be, Mom, ‘cause either I would never have had the courage to change, and I would have ended up in Greystone or worse, or I would still have changed and he would have killed me!”

“Don’t you ever say that! Your father loved you.”

“NO, mom. He loved what I could have or should have become. His dream child making it into the major leagues! Hell…I wasn’t even good enough for Varsity….I could never live up to his expectations as a boy, Mom. I would have had no chance at all in pleasing him now as a girl.”

“You stop saying that. I don’t care what you had done…You’re a boy, not a girl.” Grace began her routine; first the angry but pseudo-conciliatory words followed by tears that came almost at will. She ‘sobbed,’

“You were my little boy…why can’t you accept that,” as if her desire was something that would have changed the inside workings of the girl before her. The heart and mind so desperately yearning to be free; finally liberated only to be forced back into her mother’s cage of expectations.

“Mom…I’m not a boy. I never ever was. I can’t continue to live this way. Life outside is hard enough with the jokes and the comments behind my back. My friends leaving me. My…friend…” The girl lamented the loss of her best friend; the only departure that wasn’t mean spirited, but cruel none the less since his abandonment came at the hands of leukemia. No one in the world besides her therapist to turn to; making her mother’s passive and conditional love all the more painful.

“Nonsense. You just have to change back,” Grace said with a silly grin, as if she had been clever when instead she continued to be entirely foolish and even cruel. Caden had stopped trying to correct her mother’s ignorance long ago, realizing that her mother’s words weren’t so much foolish as mean-spirited; Grace O’Rourke may have been many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

“I’m leaving.” Caden said, shaking her head.

“Why…you should rest before going out, Kellen. You just got home.”

“No, Mom…not out. I’m moving out. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too painful for me and too annoying for you every day to have to come up with another new way of telling me how wrong I am. I’ll admit it. I was wrong. I should never have had the surgery. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Well okay. I said it. Are you happy now?”

Instead of taking what was reluctantly and painfully offered, Grace couldn’t just settle for being ‘right,’ and kept at her child.

“You should have listened to me. If you had, none of this nonsense would have happened and you’d be alright. But you were always stubborn like your father. Just like your father.” Grace started in with her tears again but Caden interrupted her.

“Daddy was a cruel and vicious man who never cared about us. He whored around all over town and you hated him for that. And when he died you and Aunt Marie drank to his death. I was there, Mom. No. But you are right. If I hadn’t gone through with the surgery, none of this nonsense would have happened.” Grace opened her mouth to interrupt, but Caden put her hand up.

“For once Mom, let me finish, Okay? None of this would have happened because I would have killed myself.” Caden started to shake. She bit her lip as she felt years of frustration and anger well up inside of her.

“And you would have been happy, Mom. What did you say to Aunt Marie? Better a dead son than…what did you call me? A freak? No…a live fag.” Caden gasped between words, trying not to cry out.

“I would have really been better if I’d never been born, Mom, but we can’t go back in time. And I can’t ‘change back,’ as much as I’ve actually thought about it. I’m nowhere, Mom. I’m no longer your son, and I’m no one’s daughter. You hate me…or hate what and who I am, Mom, and I can’t change that. At least if I move out maybe I can stop hating myself?” She shook her head as her mother once again began crying; not for her ‘dead son’ or freakish daughter, but once again, Grace O’Rourke cried for just how cruel life had treated her. She looked up after a few moments, whimpering only slightly for effect and finally noticed that Caden had walked out of the kitchen.

Deiridh lucht léinn gur claoite an galar an grá¡
Char admhaigh mé é is é `ndiaidh mo chroá­ istigh a chrá¡
Aicid rá³-ghéar, faraor ná¡r sheachain mé á­
Is go gcuireann sá­ arraing is céad go géar trá­ cheart-lá¡r mo chroá­


Christmas Eve night...the Callahan home...

As it turned out, Katie ended up having to fly out on Christmas Eve...actually Christmas morning due to her standby status. Michael had just walked in the door from her patrol and headed for the shower, exhausted, but not from work, which consisted of driving around town all day.

“Honey…why don’t you put on your PJ’s and we’ll have a nice cup of tea by the fireplace, okay. It's Christmas Eve. We’ll just sit here for a bit. I can get a cab to take me to the airport, honey…better yet…why don’t I just call Linda up and tell her I’ll be there on Saturday instead. I’ll avoid the rush and the crowd, and we can spend some time together.

“No…Mom…no.” Michael said softly only a few minutes later as she climbed out of the shower. She grabbed a towel; wrapping it around her quickly as she faced her mother.

“The kids are really looking forward to seeing you, and Linda and Kevin have a nice weekend planned.” Kevin and Linda had moved with their two girls, Katie and Bridget, to Phoenix the previous December as Kevin returned to Arizona State for his master’s in education.

“I’ll be alright,” she grabbed another towel and began to dry her hair, which had grown to an almost unmanageable (for her) girl-like length. She walked into the living room as her mother grabbed a tray and placed a waiting teapot and two mugs on it before joining Michael on the couch.

“I know it’s been hard since Amy and you broke up. It really isn’t fair.” She said, placing her hand on Michael’s still damp arm.

“Oh, it’s not that. We fell out of love a while back. We just took too long for both our sakes to realize it. I’m happy for her.” There was a huge part of Michael that still loved Amy; the part that loved enough to wish the best for her old girlfriend…enough to let her go.

“What about that girl over at the Sheriff’s office? She seemed very nice.”

“Nice isn’t the word…she’s a great kid, but she’s just too afraid to disappoint her parents, and she’s off to Ithaca next month for the Spring semester.” Michael knew better than to try to start a relationship with a college sophomore. At twenty-eight there were even more barriers between women in that kind of relationship, and her job, even in a relatively peaceful suburb, still had its perils and pitfalls.

“I’m so sorry.” Katie began to cry. Between her illness and her overwhelming guilt, she had little to no strength to deal with her daughter’s unhappiness.

“It’s not your fault. You and Daddy were raised a certain way. I’m just glad that you….”

“Saw the light?” Katie wiped her tears with her sleeve and looked away.

“I spent so much time trying to make you the daughter I wanted that I forgot just what a wonderful daughter I had. Daddy and I … we made so many mistakes when you told us about …”

Even after nearly ten years, Katie still had a difficult time saying the word ‘lesbian,’ more out of a sense of being foreign or alien, like some folks get embarrassed when they try to speak French or German for the first time. She had grown beyond just being ‘not ashamed,’ and had become so proud of her daughter. But the guilt remained.

“If we had only ….gosh honey… we should have.”

“You did. Just a couple of days before Daddy died he told me how sorry he was. He kissed me and it was like he knew it was time…like he was saying goodbye. He told me he was proud of me, Mom…you know….and you’ve been as good to me as anyone ever could. We just got started late.” Katie nodded and frowned at the same time.

“Shhhh.” Michael smiled and kissed her mother before getting up.

“I’m going to get dressed. I don’t think I can sleep, and I heard that Paul’s over on 46 isn’t closing tonight. Let’s go out and get something warm and friendly….they’ve got great gyros and souvlaki, and I’m hungry.” Katie nodded as Michael disappeared into her room. A moment later she came out, dressed once again in uniform.

“Don’t tell me they’re making you work on Christmas.”

“Terry’s wife is in the hospital. They’re thinking about a C-section. And besides, you’ll be out in Arizona and Paula will be driving down from Portland, so I might as well work after I get back.” She reached down and helped her mother off the couch.

* * * * *

Christmas Day....

As it stood, they had been misinformed. Paul’s Diner was closed, as was almost everything between Denville and Newark, so Michael took the long way around to get home from the airport, driving through Morris Plains, where she saw that the Dunkin’ Donuts on 53 was open. A good cup of coffee and a croissant beat Sanka and stale toast at home, so she pulled into the parking lot.

As she walked to the entrance she placed the keys in her pocket and noticed something left there from the day before; the ring that she had found by the car in the parking garage. It got her to thinking about girl she had helped; almost like a damsel in distress, but after the black knight had hurt her so to speak.

Recalling her late arrival, due to a hastily grabbed coffee that evening as well, she felt guilty that she hadn’t been able to stop who ever had attacked the woman. And the guilt oddly gave way to a curious new feeling as Michael remembered how attracted to the girl she was, despite a very pronounced black eye. And the thought of attraction led to distraction as she failed to notice the figure approaching the entrance at the same time. A collision followed, resulting in two bodies tangled on the ground at the front of the store. She shook off the bump on the head she received when they collided and stood up.

A moment later she offered her hand in assistance to the woman who still sat awkwardly on the sidewalk. The woman looked up at her and was only crying a little bit, but she could be forgiven, since it was five AM on Christmas morning and she did have a very rough time only the night before.

“I’m so sorry, Miss…” Michael said tentatively, failing to recognize the woman before her, who spoke softly while wiping her face with her coat sleeve; wincing only slightly as she rubbed the sleeve against her badly bruised cheek. She held her hand out in greeting and said,

“M…Merry Christmas, Officer…” She looked at the name plate opposite the badge and continued,

“Officer Callahan."

"I'm sorry, please excuse my clumsiness...I'm Michael...Michael Callahan." It was only at that moment that the girl recognized the police officer and that the officer was a very handsome...woman. She smiled nervously as her cheeks grew hot and red.

"Hello, Michael Callahan. My name is O'Rourke...Caden O'Rourke.”

Casadh bean-tsá­ dom thá­os ag Lios Bhéal an átha
D`fhiafraigh mé di an scaoilfeadh glas ar bith grá¡
Is é dáºirt sá­ gos á­seal i mbriathra soineannta sá¡imh
"An grá¡ a théid fá¡n chroá­ ná­ scaoiltear as é go brá¡th"


Tá¡ mé mo shuá­
(I am sitting)

Traditional
Performed by Clannad
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDmDnwgcxJQ

Tá¡ mé mo shuá­ á³ d'éirigh'n ghealach aréir
Ag cur tein-e sá­os-go buan is á¡ fadá³ go géar
Tá¡ bunadh a' tá­ 'na luá­ is tá¡ mise liom féin
Tá¡ na coiligh ag glaoch 'san saol 'na gcodladh ach mé

'Sheacht mh'anam déag do bhéal do mhala is do ghrua
Do sháºil ghorm ghlé-gheal fá¡r thréig mé sionnach na láºb
Le cumha do dhiaidh ná­ léir dom an bealach a shiáºil
Is a charaid mo chléibh tá¡ na sléibhte 'dul idir mé's táº

Deiridh lucht léinn gur claoite an galar an grá¡
Char admhaigh mé é is é 'ndiaidh mo chroá­ istigh a chrá¡
Aicid rá³-ghéar, faraor ná¡r sheachain mé á­
Is go gcuireann sá­ arraing is céad go géar trá­ cheart-lá¡r mo chroá­

Casadh bean-tsá­ dom thá­os ag Lios Bhéal an átha
D'fhiafraigh mé di an scaoilfeadh glas ar bith grá¡
Is é dáºirt sá­ gos á­seal i mbriathra soineannta sá¡imh
"An grá¡ a théid fá¡n chroá­ ná­ scaoiltear as é go brá¡th"

I am sitting up since the moon arose last night
Putting down a fire again and again and keeping it lit
The family is in bed and here am I by myself,
The cocks are crowing and the country is asleep but me.

I love your mouth, your eyebrows and your cheeks
Your bright blue eyes for whose sake I stopped hunting the wily fox
In longing for you I cannot see to walk the road
Friend of my bosom, the mountains lie between me and you.

Learned men say that love is a fatal sickness
I never admitted it until now that my heart is broken:
It's a very painful illness, alas, I have not avoided it,
And it sends a hundred arrows through the core of my heart.

I met a fairy woman at the Rath of Beal an Atha
I asked her would any key unlock the love in my heart
And she said in soft simple language
"When love enters the heart it will never be driven from it".


Part Three - Why Worry?



Minutes later...

Codail suan, mo chaora bhan, codail samh, a mhuirnin mhilis,
Luigh go ciuin sa chlaiabhan, dun do shuil, a leanbh dhilis...

“Dark, no sugar; a girl after my own heart,” Michael said with a laugh as she sat down, placing the coffee and blueberry muffin in front of Caden.

“I’ve never cared for sweet drinks; I don’t even put sugar in ice tea,” Caden volunteered; immediately feeling self-conscious, as if talking about personal tastes was somehow too personal.

“Have you ever noticed that coffee, as good as it tastes, smells even better when it’s fresh ground before it’s brewed?” Michael looked away, feeling almost as awkward as the young woman at the table with her.

“Oh yes…it’s almost like you wish you could eat it,” Caden added before feeling foolish as her face grew hot and red with embarrassment.

“Hey…” Michael said, reaching into her pocket. The interruption allowed Caden a moment to compose herself; even if there wasn’t anything foolish with what she had just said, she still felt foolish.

“I believe this is yours,” Michael produced a small, shiny object.

“Ohh…Nonee’s ring!” She squealed and immediately grew red once again. Michael noticed and patted the girl’s hand, intending to put the girl at ease. It had just the opposite effect, and the girl quickly pulled her hand away; hard enough to swing her hand back into the window frame behind her, banging it loudly.

“Miss O’Rourke? Easy, okay. It’s only a little past five on Christmas, and at the rate you’re going, I’ll have to take you to the hospital. Relax. I won’t bite. I promise.” Michael laughed again, and this time the young lady felt more at ease with the unexpected kind and almost soft demeanor that the handsome woman displayed.

“Oh…I’m sorry….this ring is special….it’s been in our family for generations, and I’ve been given the privilege to carry it on to the next.” Caden sighed. As special as she claimed the ring was, her tone seemed almost discouraged. Michael noticed and leaned a bit closer, gazing intently as the girl collected herself.

“I’m…this is the last generation of O’Rourkes. I have no cousins and no brothers or sisters. My older brother died when I was little, so it’s just me to carry on the name, but….” She hadn’t meant to get so personal, but the words she had so hastily and hurtfully exchanged with her mother seemed to condemn her; as if being herself was the reason why the legacy of the O’Rourke family name had come to a screeching halt. Michael went to put her hand on the girl’s wrist, but thought better of it and spoke instead.

“So what brings you out to this fine eating establishment on Christmas morning?”

“I…I was on my way back to HoJo’s over in Cedar Knolls…by the Buick dealership, you know?” She looked over Michael’s shoulder in the general direction of the motel miles away.

“You’re from out of town?” Michael asked.

“No…I…I don’t have a place to stay at the moment.” The girl sighed. She had a place to stay, but only if she was willing to forget the past five plus years and be just what her mother expected.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Michael didn’t even know the girl, but she felt she almost owed her the opportunity; like a hastily wrapped last-minute Christmas gift for the grab bag at work.

“My mom…we don’t get along.” By get along, Caden was being kind, since her mother was unlikely to accept her daughter in this lifetime. She sighed and continued.

“I’m not exactly what my mom expected when she was expecting, you know?” A casual throwaway finish, but Michael did know. Even if they had a great relationship now, when Michael first came out to her parents it had been very disappointing and hurtful. She knew exactly how Caden felt even if she didn’t know why.

“My Mom and Dad had a hard time….you know?” Michael’s words almost reflected Caden’s; like a mirror image, the reverse view. She continued.

“I’m fine now. We …my Mom and me…we get along just fine, but when I told her and Daddy that I was lez, they hit the roof.” The word ‘lez’ shocked Caden; by its candor almost as much as by her tone.

“You’re a lesbian?” Caden tried to sound casual, but it came out much more abrupt than she had meant. Michael knew that the girl was ill at ease for much more than her revelation just then.

“Oh yes. We Callahans come from a long line of lesbians, dating back to the late 70’s.” She laughed, but Caden’s eyes seemed to glaze over as she pondered the remark.

“It’s a joke, Miss O’Rourke. You can laugh if you like.” Almost as a prompt, Michael laughed; a louder heartier laugh that was strong and clear but as appealingly feminine as Caden might have hoped for, had she been aware of her own feelings at the moment.

“What’s put your mother off? Leave your socks on the floor? Put ketchup on her meatloaf?” The intent had been to lighten the mood for the girl’s benefit, but the mood got suddenly dark.

“No…she hates me. Something that you might….well, like you said about you and your parents? It goes on every day and every night. When I was born...I was her little lamb, you know? Now? She can’t stand who I am.”

She almost added, ‘I can’t stand what I am,’ since both statements were true. Michael leaned even closer, her face reflecting the understanding that Caden sought. She certainly hadn’t meant to reveal so much to a stranger, but Michael’s face was kind and strong, almost manly in a feminine way, if that makes sense. Caden felt safe.

“I can’t imagine anyone hating you, Miss O’Rourke.” Michael said. Now it was her turn to say more than she intended. She hoped that her words were the only thing that went too far, but she felt her own face grow hot with embarrassment. She retreated quickly.

“I’ve got to head out to work in a bit. I don’t mean to presume, but after what you just said?” Michael looked over Caden’s shoulder out the window. It had started to snow….A white Christmas, she mused.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Caden’s face grew red once again and she lowered her head, shrugging her shoulders; her grandmother had flown back to Denver the afternoon after their lunch the other day.

“That settles it. I’m all alone for Christmas. My mom is visiting my sibs out west for the holiday.” She paused, remembering her mother’s trip was more than just a family visit. She sighed almost too quickly before continuing,

“I’ve got some salmon to cook and salt potatoes and some kale. I know it’s nothing special, but you’re welcome to come over. You really shouldn’t be alone on Christmas.” She smiled awkwardly. Something about her tone left the words sounding protective and warm and welcoming instead of a lecture, and Caden smiled at her and spoke.

“You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not…you don’t bite, do you Miss O’Rourke?” She smiled and Caden half-smiled back at the joke. She had begun to doubt almost immediately. She looked away, feeling like she was being rescued instead of invited. Little did she know how close to the truth she was. Nevertheless, she nodded and smiled a half smile.

“Then it’s settled.…I’ve got to get to work,” Michael was almost sorry she had invited the young woman before her. She felt like she didn’t know herself, much less the stranger before her. And whatever it was that the girl’s mother found so upsetting and disappointing, it sure wasn’t apparent. Still, Michael looked at Caden and felt….safe.

“I’ll drop by about six or so to pick you up. You do like salmon…I guess some folks don’t like salmon. I’ve got a steak I can broil. Are you a vegetarian?” Michael felt she was babbling. Caden reached out and touched Michael’s arm and it was Michael’s turn to recoil. She pulled her hand back, but Caden had gripped her strong enough to be carried along with the gesture. She ended up leaning across the table almost nose to nose with Michael. Both women turned red at the same time. Caden sat back and stammered.

“Sss…salmon is fine. Thh...thank you.” She smiled awkwardly as Michael stood up to leave.

“Oh…okay. Then six it is.” She picked up her cap and nodded. There was almost a ‘bye, honey, and see you later’ feel about their parting as Michael walked out.

“Okay…” Caden said finally to no one in particular.


Dispatch Office…Morristown Police Department....four-thirty-seven that afternoon….

“Yes…I’m sorry, Ma’am….you need to call 911 for an emergency…yes…okay…you say you heard a shot? Hazlett…yes, Ma’am. We’ll have a car out there right away…yes, Ma’am…okay.”

Howard Johnson’s Motor Inn, Cedar Knolls, at about the same time…

“Merry Christmas, Nonee…I’m okay…yes…I’m over at the Howard Johnson’s…no…it was too late…I didn’t want to wake you up…PopPop doesn’t need all the drama….yeah…I can’t take it any more…just a second, okay?” Caden pulled the phone away from her face and choked back a sob.

“No…I’m not crying…well, you know she’s not…no, Nonee…I’m sorry…no…of course I’ll visit…no…I haven’t talked to her since yesterday…what? No…” Caden paused once again. She hadn’t been away from home more than twenty-four hours and already was feeling the burden of her mother’s needs once again.

“Nonee…I’ve got…I wish I could be there too…maybe after the new year I can fly out there…yes….I miss you too. Say hi to PopPop for me, okay?” She hung up the phone. Her grandmother had enough help and certainly enough company. Even if she had wanted to spend Christmas in Denver, she didn’t have the money for the plane fare and she didn’t feel comfortable asking her grandmother for it. She looked down at the ring on her right hand. It had been an engagement ring at one time for several of the O’Rourke women, but it would never end up on Caden’s left hand.

45 Hazlett Street, Morristown…5:01 pm…

“Yes, Ma’am. This house here?” Michael pointed to the bi-level next door and the woman nodded.

“I haven’t heard anything since. She lives with her daughter, but I haven’t seen her daughter’s car today. Christmas of all days. You know, I was just saying to my sister….”

“Excuse me, Ma’am…I’ve got to go check this out….” Michael quickly stepped off the front porch and walked toward the house. As she approached the front of the house, she noticed the front door was wide open, and that there were no lights on in the house. She walked back to the cruiser and called for backup, but with the chance that someone might be hurt inside, she quickly weighed the risk and entered the house with her 38 drawn and a flashlight facing out. A moan came from her left, and she entered the room….

“Ke….ke…” The woman on the floor moaned. Michael knelt down and held the flashlight on the woman on the floor. Her shoulder was bleeding, and she had a gash on her forehead. She heard a noise behind her, and she pivoted on her heel, still kneeling; the neighbor was standing at the doorway.

“Ma’am…please go back to your home…call 911 and say that an officer needs an ambulance at …what’s the number here?”

“Forty —Three”

“Officer needs ambulance for civilian with gunshot wound…..Thanks.” She used her free hand to shoo the woman out the door.

Whoever had broken in had left long before sundown; there were no lights on in the house, and the radio blaring in the kitchen told her that there was electricity. Picking up the flashlight once again she shined it around the room; a living room in complete disarray with books and knickknacks strewn around along with the odd photo frame lying face down, save for one that lay mere inches from her feet. She went to turn her attention back to the woman. The bullet had grazed her shoulder, and it was really more the butt to the head that had hurt her the most. But she stopped, almost in slow motion as she processed what she had seen only moments before.

“Ma’am….the ambulance is on the way. You’re going to okay.” She leaned over and smiled at the woman even as her brain went into overtime. Something seemed odd about one of the photos she had noticed. She shined the light on the floor once again, the beam finally falling on the photo in question.. The young man in the picture looked familiar, but Michael couldn’t quite place the face. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut but nothing came to mind. A few minutes later the sound of sirens filled the air as another patrol car arrived just behind the ambulance. In seconds the room was filled with activity; the woman was strapped to the gurney and the crew began to take her out of the house.

“Kell….Kell.” The woman moaned once again. The EMT smiled.

“It’s okay, Ma’am…we’ve got you, now. You’re going to be okay.” A moment later they were gone.

“Hey, Mikey…how did you get stuck with Christmas duty. I thought you’d be out west with the family?” A voice came from the doorway as an officer stood with hands on hips shaking his head at the mess.

“And here in my own neighborhood. Fuck…” Peter Krakowski lived down the block from where they stood.

“Somebody was lookin’ for sumthin,’ that’s for sure.” He said, continuing to shake his head.’

“Yep…and by the looks of it they didn’t find it. I don’t think they would have shot her unless she surprised him….assuming it is a him.” Michael looked around as well, her gaze falling once again falling upon the picture on the floor. She pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her back pocket and put them on. She picked up the photo and shined the flashlight on it one last time. The face was nearly screaming at her to recall.

“Photo doesn’t look all that old…kid in his late teens?” She held the photo out for Pete to examine.

“Used to be…fuckin’ ay!” He laughed and shook his head.

“What do you mean, ‘used to be?’” Michael tilted her head to the side.

“Used to be a he…Kellen…O’Rourke. That was his…her mom they just took out of here.” Michael’s eyes widened in shock and recognition.

“Kellen?” She peered at the picture and turned back to face Pete.

“Yeah…I forget what his name …beg your pardon…what’s her fucking name…I gotta make sure I don’t offend anyone…fuck!” He laughed at his own joke and continued.

“Callie? Karen?”

“Caden?”

“Yeah…that’s his…fuck…that’s HER name. Jeez, Mikey...I know about...well, you know ....you," He used his eyes as a glance up and down at her and shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't begrudge anybody livin' how they want. I just don't get this whole other thing...What the fuck is this world coming to, Mikey?” Pete looked at the photo and shook his head for the last time.

“Anyway, kiddo, Merry Fucking Christmas to you.”

“Yeah….Merry Christmas,” Michael said as Pete walked out the front door.

Realta geala anocht ag luascadh ins an speir, fuaim na coille agus ceol na hoiceh;
Fag uait an olagon, nil ga ar bith leis...


Suantraá­ Na Maighdine
words and music by
Seá¡n á“g á“ Tuama
as performed by Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqkuvFC8ZDo

Sleep soundly, my white lamb, sleep deeply, my sweet darling,
Lie quietly in the cradle, close your eyes, my faithful child...

Bright stars tonight are rocking in the sky, forest sounds and night music;
Leave aside your lamenting, there is no need for it anymore...


Anybody Else But You?


Dheannain sá¹gradh ris a nighean duibh
N' deidh dhomh eirigh as a 'mhadainn
Dheannain sá¹gradh ris a nighean duibh

Dheannain sá¹gradh ris a'ghruagaich
'Nuair a bhiodh a' sluagh nan codal


Howard Johnson's Motor Inn, Route 10, Whippany, New Jersey, shortly thereafter...

Caden heard the knock at the door; she had grown only a bit impatient at the lateness of the hour, since Michael was a police officer. Most of her was hungry and happy for the opportunity to spend Christmas with someone less threatening than her mother, but she also dreaded the newness of the moment as well; she was almost hoping that Michael was there to cancel their date. Their date?

“Miss O’Rourke? Miss Caden O’Rourke?” The tall African-American officer asked softly, his smile a warm welcome.

“Yes? I’m Caden O’Rourke.” She stepped back out of the doorway. The officer stood still, but his expression changed to one of urgent concern.

“I’m sorry….I’m Dave Washington…Michael…Officer Callahan asked me to stop by; she’s working on a case, and she asked me to stop by. Do you reside at 43 Hazlett Street in Morristown?” The word ‘no’ immediately came to mind since she had moved out only the day before, but she nodded nervously.

“I’m sorry, but there was break in. Your mother is Grace O’Rourke?” Caden nodded again as she used the back of her hand to stifle a gasp.

“She’s been taken to Morristown Memorial. Michael asked me to take you there and that she’d meet you after the house has been secured by the detectives on the case. If you’d like to take a few moments to get ready, I’ll be outside in the patrol car. I can either have you follow me, or I can drive you there; your call.”

“Just give me a moment. I’ll be okay to drive.” He nodded while stepping back.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Caden’s faith had been tested over the past few years since her transition. She had come through a very trying time feeling let down and discouraged, but she still held on tenaciously, hoping that somehow what she believed was true and real. She put her head down just a bit and spoke.

“Help me know what to say…please?” Not much of a prayer, but still focused enough to know she didn’t have the strength or even the desire at that point to speak to her mother. A moment later she was out the door and on 287 heading toward the hospital.


Morristown Memorial Hospital, Emergency Room Treatment Area...soon after...

“Mom?” Caden said softly, peeking around the drawn curtain in the Emergency Room. Grace was lying on a bed with her head turned away from the harsh brightness of the light in the hallway.

“Kellen….come.” It almost sounded like her mother; the royal beckoning while bestowing some regal permission to approach, but the voice seemed weaker…almost subdued.

“Mom.” She said it coldly; no longer feeling connected to the woman in front of her with all the anger and rejection and pain that passed between them, and not just one way. She took a deep breath as if she was diving into a very deep pool beneath a rough waterfall, stepping closer to the bed with a cautious almost tip-toe.

“Honey…please…come…closer.” Her mother sounded weak. The doctor had told her the injuries weren’t serious in the medical sense, but Grace appeared to be hurt badly. The large bandage called attention to itself, and Caden saw the edge of a dressing peeking out from underneath the hospital gown covering her right shoulder. She used her left hand to point to a chair next to the utility table by the bed. Caden stepped closer but remained standing. Grace sighed deeply and spoke.

“I forgot your name...” She put her head down.

“I don’t…what are you talking about.”

“Kellen…I can’t remember your name….what’s your name?” Grace shook her head slightly.

“You just said it.” Caden looked at her mother, and she wondered if the head injury was more serious than the doctor had admitted.

“No…I mean YOUR name. What’s YOUR name?” She stressed the word twice. ‘YOUR.’

“Caden?” She asked. Grace nodded but winced; her head still hurt from the injury. She pointed to a Styrofoam pitcher sitting on the table. Caden poured some water into the cup on the table and handed it to her mother. Grace took the cup and sipped slowly for a moment before handing it back.

“C...Caden.” The girl’s eyes widened and she bit her lip in surprise; it was the first time her mother had used her name….ever.

“I…I’ve been lying here thinking.” She breathed out a heavy sigh and continued.

“I…I’ve been a fool… you’re my child.” She looked off to the side only slightly, gathering some strength from a moral reserve neither of them realized had existed before speaking again.

“I’m…so sorry. I was wrong.”

Nothing else to be said, the tears in her eyes and the wave to come closer would be enough for the moment; at least from her end. Caden pursed her lips as tears came quickly and heavily to her own eyes. She shrugged her shoulders as she swallowed hard, nodding in agreement; not just with her mother’s profession but as if to say instead, ‘me too.’ She stepped closer to the bed and knelt down on the floor, her knee scraping the edge of the IV stand; snagging her hose. She pulled close to the bed and looked at her mother face to face.

How so much she resembled her mother; the two were both stubborn Irish women, she would recall later, but at that moment, the O’Rourke family knit together a bit closer after a very big rip was beginning to mend. Grace put her hand on her daughter’s head; the first real contact between them in years as she said,

“Caden…that’s a nice name.”

Dheannain sá¹gradh an á m dá¹sgaidh
'N á m na siá¹il a bhith 'gam pasgadh


The nurses' station upstairs minutes later...

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to be the one to tell you.” Michael said softly, her head down in apology and unnecessary shame.

“Sorry? You saved her,” Caden said, her hand reaching out to touch Michael’s arm. The girl recoiled, backing into the high desk at the nurse’s station.

“I…had to secure your house until the detectives arrived.” She put her head down once more, shaking it in argument.

“I know. If it weren’t for you?” Caden looked back at the doorway to her mother’s room before returning her attention to the shy woman before her.

“Thank you.” Caden went to hug the girl. She pulled Michael close and put her head to one side and patted Michael on the back, squeezing her tightly. Michael returned the gesture, patting Caden awkwardly while looking away. Caden stepped back and nodded, a smile growing across her face even as tears fell to the floor.

“We…” Caden looked away and bit her lip. Never once in the past three years had held out hope for reconciliation; it was likely the best Christmas gift the girl had ever received.

“Noreen here told me she found the two of you hugging. I’m happy for you.” Michael said, pointing back at one of the nurses as she returned Caden’s smile nervously. She felt her face grow hot and she realized it was over the kind gesture her warm smile. Was it really getting warm there?

"Who would want to hurt her? And in our neighborhood; it's not like it's an unsafe part of town...I mean..." She looked away and Michael sighed in frustration. Life had proven to her that there's never any place that can't be unsafe. And how conveniently coincidental that her mother was attacked only days after Caden's had been accosted. The girl turned around again and her expression had softened once again.

“Yes. Say…It’s getting late. Probably too late to cook. I noticed on the way over here that August Moon is open. You want to get a bite to eat?” She looked at the clock on the wall behind Michael. Eight-forty-two.

“It’s still early. Mom’s already resting. Whataya say? My treat?” Michael hadn’t eaten since they ‘bumped into’ each other early that morning. It certainly didn’t help that the girl smiled again. Suddenly the appeal of cooking a homemade meal felt less safe for some reason. She wanted to say no and pick up some ready-made sandwich at the Quik Check on the way home, but she nodded almost automatically.

“Good.” Caden said.

“My car is right in the parking lot out back. Maybe you could drive and then drop me off back here when we’re finished?” Michael found herself nodding once again, and in only a few minutes they were on their way to the restaurant. She made a mental note not to bring up the attacks on them at dinner; the girl at least deserved as stress-free a makeshift Christmas dinner as possible.


August Moon Chinese Restaurant, Morristown, New Jersey, minutes later...

A petite girl arrived at the table with two glasses of water and a broad smile.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“The water will be fine.” Caden said and Michael nodded to the waitress. A moment later Michael turned her attention back to Caden who had taken her coat off, revealing a very attractive grayish green dress. Michael shifted nervously in her chair. She felt uncomfortable and way underdressed for the restaurant since she hadn’t been home to change out of her uniform. While she wouldn’t have worn a dress out, and certainly hadn’t planned on being out at all, she wished she had at least had time to change into a nice pair of slacks and a blouse.

“My mom hasn’t at all been very welcoming since I…” Caden almost forgot herself and was about to reveal her secret. Michael pulled back, hoping that the girl wasn’t going to go there, having recalled what Pete Krakowski had told her about the woman sitting across the table from her.

“I’m awfully hungry,” Michael interrupted and she pointed to the menus sitting on the table. Caden might have lost her train of thought but for the urgency she felt regarding her mother’s change of heart. She picked up the menu and glanced at it, but between her need to talk and happy awareness of the cuisine, she placed the menu back on the table and smiled.

“I’m sorry…I seem to have made you uncomfortable,” she said, allowing at least for Michael’s awkwardness, but she continued.

“I had surgery a few years ago to correct a mistake.” Michael winced; she hadn’t considered how personal just having a meal could be, and was glad at least that they never made it to her house for salmon. Caden noticed the expression, but continued anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, but it wasn’t for what she was about to reveal, but rather how she had begun to explain her past. Perhaps she was encouraged by her mother's acceptance, but either way, Caden felt an odd strength and security about herself. She shook her head as if to correct her own mis-self-perception, as she had come to typify her insecurity about her gender issues.

“Not a mistake.” She sighed, feeling almost embarrassed about her own ‘lack of faith.’

"My cousin used to say, ‘God doesn’t make mistakes.’ It’s just a challenge that I had to meet…” She almost added, ‘you know?’ She smiled and went on, quickly so as to finish her thought for the benefit of them both.

“I was born as Kellen James O’Rourke,” she said, almost blurting it out, but still in almost hushed tones, more for the sake of Michael than herself. Michael nodded in reflection. It crossed her mind about telling the girl what she had already learned from Pete, but thought better of it. Her lack of curiosity caused Caden’s eyes to widen. It would be a very long evening unless one or both of them spoke after that. Michael shook her head as if to say no to herself, but she lost the argument.

“One of my friends on the force lives on your block. I found out tonight. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know how to bring it up or even whether I should.” She looked away and found her face growing hot once again. Grabbing the water class, she took a gulp, giving Caden an opening to speak once again.

“I…it was something I had to do, do you understand?” She almost plead for forgiveness herself, but Michael answered calmly.

“No…I’m sorry... I don’t understand. “ She paused as Caden began to frown and blush; her own face growing hot. She grabbed for her own glass of water and downed it in one draught. Michael continued.

“But I accept it. Listen, Miss O’Rourke…I don’t even understand myself most times. I’m a lesbian, and I’ve often asked God just why the hell he made me this way, you know? But then I think of my cousin…maybe just like yours? She had a form of muscular dystrophy. She never once got upset with God about it. She just figured out that it was how she was put together. No complaints. Nothing to fix.” At the word fix, Caden looked away. Michael reached out and touched her arm.

Caden pulled back.

"I suppose if it was anybody else but me? To fix, I mean!" Caden found herself growing angry; her own fears compounding what she thought she heart.

“No…not that way…I mean fix in that there was something wrong with her… of course her body wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, but that didn’t make her less of a person.” Michael sighed heavily and tears came to her eyes.

“She...she passed last year, but I can’t help but think that somehow she knows about me…I never told her, but I think she’s looking down on me….maybe on you? I don’t know. I just know that I can’t expect to understand everything, but I have to be able to accept everyone….” Her voice trailed off and Caden looked at her.

“Everyone?” It was almost a statement.

“Me…you? We’re all in this together, you know? All okay, just the way we are.” There was an uncomfortable silence that was broken by the arrival of the waitress.

“Chicken and sautéed string beans, please and vegetable fried rice, please?” Caden said softly. Michael smiled.

“And you?” The waitress turned to Michael, who replied,

“I’ll have the same, thank you,” Michael said, handing the menu to the waitress, who nodded before walking back to the kitchen.

“My favorite. See…in it together.” She smiled at Caden, who returned the gesture. A moment later they duplicated another expression of emotion as both women turned red once again.


Back at the hospital...about an hour later...

As they exited the elevator, one of the nurses walked up to them quickly.

“Miss O’Rourke. I’m sorry. We called the number you left, but there was no answer. It’s about your mother.”

“What’s wrong?” She asked almost blithely as the nurse looked back toward the nurse’s station at the older nurse behind the desk who nodded. The woman’s expression spoke volumes to Michael, who stepped closer to Caden, putting her hand on the girl’s arm.

“She….the head injury was….the doctor thinks it was an aneurysm .” The woman shook her head before looking down slightly and away.

“What…I don’t understand?” Caden struggled in grasping what the nurse was trying to convey, but Michael knew immediately. She put her arm around the girl. The nurse shook her head even as her eyes welled up. Caden began to shake a bit and she bit the inside of her mouth anxiously.

“Let’s go sit down, Miss O’Rourke,” Michael said, trying to steer Caden toward the family lounge.

“No…I need to…I need to see her.” The flat tone in her voice along with the tears that began to stream down her cheeks told Michael that Caden knew. She went to usher the girl again. Caden took two steps before collapsing in Michael’s arms, sobbing.

“I’m so sorry,” Michael said as she held the weeping girl, not knowing what else to say or do. And she was right. There was nothing much to say and nothing at all that could be done. Grace O’Rourke had made peace with her daughter; almost in some sort of premonition some might say, but it seemed to Michael that it was one more opportunity for Caden to meet a challenge. But even without really knowing the girl or even how she felt at that moment, Michael was determined that the girl would not have to meet that challenge alone.

Dreamt I'd be, in love forever
Like a candle that burns for all time
The moment of truth, will it be now or never?
Only love can make sense out of love


Dheannain sá¹gradh
Dark Haired Girl
Traditional
as performed by
Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha


I played with the young dark-haired girl
When I woke in the morning
I played with the young dark-haired girl

I played with the long-haired girl
When everyone was asleep

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=02Fx4xKwcG8

* * * * *

In Love Forever
as performed by
Cait Agus Sean
(Kate Crossan and John Herberman)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oAJoDO70tU


You Brought Me Up



You brought me up and out of the water
You brought me up to forget
I had ever been, I could ever breathe
In the water under your heart

“We…we just made up…she told me she was sorry,” Caden looked into Michael’s eyes, pleading for help that was not to be; as if Michael could somehow turn back time and rescue the O’Rourke family. She felt helpless, but she was far from helpless as she held the girl and rocked her gently. A side of Michael few besides her mother had seen.

“I’m so sorry, Miss O’Rourke,” she said to the girl even as she wondered if she had the obligation to speak the girl’s name while feeling both incapable and undeserving even to hold the girl.

“She….we’ve been so angry for so long. I wanted to…I needed to tell her I forgave her…I never got the chance.” Caden spoke haltingly between sobs. Michael would say later that she had no idea where her own strength came, much less any wisdom for the girl, but she spoke.

“From what you told me tonight, it sounds like she knew that….calling you by your name for once…”

She paused as the girl gasped. It was the first and only time that Caden would hear her mother utter her name; not in resignation or resentment, but finally….at the last possible conceivable moment…speaking the name as something of value. What had been meant to provide solace caused the girl instead to shake in her arms; her sobs intensifying and underscoring once again just how helpless and incapable Michael felt.

I darkened your door and your days, you said
You couldn't sleep the night
With the sound of the sea hard on my heels
Climbing the stairs to your bed

“It’s not fair….” The girl stammered. Michael rubbed her back softly as the girl’s shaking subsided; replaced by a soft moan. Michael looked up, heavenward in a way, as she shook her head at the irony of God. Here she was a woman in a man’s world; living a man’s life some might say in error, but still pushed and jammed into a square hole by misconceptions and ignorance. She pulled back and looked at the girl’s face. Caden had closed her eyes and seemed to be sleeping even though her shaking still remained; albeit almost like the gentle quake of a fragile tree limb in a soft breeze.

“I know…I know…shhhh….shhhh.”

Michael found herself almost ‘channeling’ her grandmother; a careful soothing voice that was more used to shouting information over a radio or barking instructions in a crisis. This remained a crisis, but with a need for another approach. The girl put her hand on Michael’s chest; her fingers brushing lightly on the badge before settling in the crease between Michael’s breast and arm.

“Shhh…shhhh,” she repeated. She looked into the girl’s face. ‘The girl,’ she wondered. Here she was, holding a very fragile human in her arms; a boy? No…not a boy. She squeezed her eyes a bit tighter, squinting from the glare of the harsh light of the hospital corridor to gain some sight that made sense. The girl’s features were not very soft at all; she remained ‘boyish’ in a way, but in the attractive ‘boyish’ way some girls present as opposed to a remnant of what she had once been. This was a girl in her arms even if she had started out differently. Certainly more of a girl than Michael believed herself to be. She felt strong and manly, which caused her to bite her lip as she blinked back some tears.

“Shhhh….shhh,” she said once again as the girl wept in her arms. Not manly…humanly? Something inside her began to change as the girl in her arms proved once and for all that things and people and lives and hearts and minds aren’t always what they seem to be; certainly they are most assuredly not all what others would have them be, if they had their way. And she felt guilty somehow; as if by arriving one moment sooner she would have been able to undo the damage already done by….a killer. The very personal and introspective moment was rudely interrupted by the urgency of the matter. What had been a break-in and assault had now become a homicide.

“Miss O’Rourke?”

“Ye…yes?”

“I have to call this in; I’m very sorry for your loss. Give me a moment?” She turned and waved for one of the nurses to come over.

“I have to call in. Would you sit with her for a moment?” The young woman looked back and forth between Caden and Michael before nodding. She sat down and Michael went to the nurses’ station and picked up the phone.

“That break-in over on Hazlett this afternoon? Yeah…the woman died. We’ve…yes…The doctor is filling out the report…yes….no…nothing yet….They’ll send you a report, but I guess Pat and Jerry won’t get tomorrow off, either…yes…yeah…I’ll make sure she’s okay….I’ll call in….yeah…Merry Christmas.”

“Miss O’Rourke?” The girl had put her head back against the wall and had closed her eyes, but her expression indicated anything but rest. She either didn’t hear Michael or she didn’t have the energy to respond. Michael nodded at the nurse sitting next to Caden and the girl got up. Michael sat down next to Caden and said again,

“Miss O’Rourke?”

“Yes?” She lifted her head slightly and opened her eyes. Even though the staff had dimmed the lights in the hallway, she still felt the glare and closed her eyes once again, but turned her attention to Michael.

“We’re going to find out who did this…I promise you.” It was little consolation; the girl almost didn’t care who had killed her mother since it wouldn’t retrieve what had been lost. It was so much more painful, but the pain itself gave testimony to the miracle that had occurred only hours before. Her mother was gone, but Caden finally knew her mother’s love for her. Again; hardly a consolation at the moment, but something that would actually help see her through the pain and sadness in the coming days.

“I think it might be best if you come stay at my place?” The question gave Caden some control in what was quickly beginning to look like a world completely out of control.

“You…Your place?”

“We don’t know who did this or why, but you were attacked the other night, and that’s too much of a coincidence for my thinking. I don’t want to take any chances. You’re too important…” Her voice trailed off for only a moment and she quickly added.

“You probably have something or know something that the killer wants.”

The word 'killer' grated harshly on the moment, and Caden winced. She hadn’t meant to, but even still, the word probably did more to convince the girl that Michael’s concerns were urgent and valid. She opened her eyes once again and it was only then that Michael noticed that the girl’s eyes were almost violet. She’d only seen that once before; a picture of Liz Taylor of all people. Do boys have violet eyes? She felt guilty as she once again realized that regardless of how the person in front of her had originated, it was a woman who sat there now. She shook her head reflexively.

“We have a spare bedroom at home that’s always ready just in case any of my sibs visit. My mom is due back sometime next week.” Michael paused as she realized how much she had in common with the girl sitting next to her. The manner and timing of her passing might be different, but Michael’s mother was also destined to leave this earth sooner rather than later. She was about to become an orphan herself, and Michael felt a stab of grief even though her mother still drew a relatively healthy breath in her battle with cancer. Michael could only hope and pray that Katie Callahan’s passing would be as swift and hopefully painless as the mother of the girl before her.

She shook her head once again; this time with more thought as she regretted in a way the almost too similar circumstances that were drawing her toward Caden O’Rourke. Perhaps it was the rescuer in her; the kid in the family that always begged to keep the lost kitten or take care of the wounded bird. Certainly it had driven her to become a police officer in the first place.

Ever the protector, she was the arbiter with fists and kicks when it came to facing down bullies that hurt stray kids and wounded geeks and Goths in High School; the name ‘SuperLez’ had been worn almost with pride even though it hurt inside when her friends adopted the nickname. “Oh, you know we’re just kidding, right?” They would say.

And now here was another stray; a homeless oddity of a pet. A defenseless, helpless kid who needed protection. At least that’s what she told herself, but inside…in her heart of hearts, her mother would always say, Michael Callahan was falling in love with Caden O’Rourke.


You promised me gloves from the skins of the fishes
The smile of a dolphin for a ring in my hands
You left me with nothing but a mouthful of air
And promises wide as the ocean

You left me down for once and for all
You left me out in the open
Under mackerel skies, high and dry
Way out of the reach of our sea


You Brought Me Up
as performed by
Meav Ni Mhaolchatha


Promises Wide as the Ocean



The Callahan home, shortly after one in the morning of December twenty-sixth...

“You really don’t have to do this,” Caden said as she laid her suitcase on the bed. Almost a foolish statement; she was there and it was a done deal, as they say, since she’d already checked out of the motel.

“I can’t let you stay by yourself; not while there’s a….” Michael was going to say, ‘killer,’ but thought better of it; re-writing her words on the fly.

“Thief…” Caden interrupted. She almost sounded relieved until she added.

“He….stole her away from me.”

It was an odd moment. Forgetting what she did know about transsexuals and adding in what she thought she knew, Michael looked at Caden as the girl began to cry once again, mistakenly believing it was incumbent upon women who had been men to be given to crying. She went to hug the girl, but Caden pulled away.

“I’m so sorry.”

A lifetime of feeling a need to apologize for her own existence prompted yet one more mea culpa. It was confusing; Michael was trying to view the girl through the same lens that others saw her, and she made the same mistake with Caden as her friends and even her own family had made with Michael.

“Don’t be sorry.” Her tone was almost condescending; giving a permission in a way that made Caden feel less secure. Three simple words that sounded kind but included a shrug and dismissive half-smile. Michael found herself looking at the girl as if an inspection was in order. The girl turned her head, embarrassed.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Another kind encouragement, Michael thought, but again her body language and tone betrayed her. It wasn’t as if Caden had nothing to apologize for, but that she had nothing to apologize to Michael for since Michael almost extended forgiveness where none was needed.

“I don’t….this isn’t going to work,” Caden said, once again looking at a simple extension of help as a task to be managed instead of a relationship, as simple and innocent as that might be. She felt the need to perform, as in all of her other relationships, feeling inauthentic and false. She pushed back her hair, almost in a flirtatious way, but being entirely fearful for any attention at the same time. It was as if she was on display; a test drive of toleration in a way for Michael’s benefit. Her face had grown almost crimson and Michael finally stopped trying, giving way to being herself instead.

“I’ll let you get some rest; this has been an awfully long day, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a pill. I didn’t mean to be so dopey about you… I’ve been treating you like I hate to be treated, and I’m sorry. On top of everything else you’ve had to deal with today, the last thing you need is someone like me making you feel like you have to prove yourself.” Michael bowed her head, feeling more than a bit ashamed; needless as well, since she was operating in a storm with a low ceiling and little visibility and flying blind. Caden reached over, almost reflexively, and lifted Michael’s chin with her hand.

“Hey…We’ve both …it’s been a long day, like you said. I’m exhausted and you must be as well. I am grateful, really. I just….” Caden had been crying all day, and the last thing she needed was to be tearful once again. She felt too vulnerable and weak as it was, as if she had to prove she wasn’t too weak.

“We don’t even know each other, and I think we’re trying too hard, when it’s just you letting me stay at your home…nothing more.” She seemed to stress the last two words, leaving Michael confused. Had she been sending out signals? The last thing she needed was a relationship; she was emotionally tied in knots over her mother’s losing battle with cancer, and getting involved with someone had to be a stupid idea, right? She looked away and spoke.

“No problem…I just wanted to be helpful, and I guess I went overboard. I didn’t mean to push it, but I am concerned about your safety. I’ll talk with my Captain in the morning about how to make sure you’re okay while we look for….” She paused, just as she had earlier, and the same response came from Caden’s lips, but in a much angrier tone.

“The thief….” Caden bit the inside of her mouth, successfully stifling a sob. Plenty of time to cry herself to sleep once Michael left the room. In a moment she got her wish.

“I’ll let you get some rest. My room is next door.” She wanted to add ‘if you need anything,’ but thought better of it. Instead, she nodded while putting her hand on the bedroom door, signaling her exit. Caden half-smiled and turned away as Michael left, closing the door behind her. It was only then that Caden allowed herself some grace. She was too tired to care about clothing, and just kicked off her shoes before climbing under the covers.

Just outside the door, Michael stood, her head bowed and against the door post. She winced slightly as she heard the stifled sobs; Caden had to be crying into her pillow. Michael wanted to resist the urge to be the protector. Not that she wasn’t a protector in her role as a police officer; she’d do what she could for anyone in Caden’s situation, wouldn’t she?

The sobs seemed to sift through the door like so much vapor to fill the hallway with sadness. Michael would have done almost anything at that moment to dull the girl’s pain, but she did what she could.

“You don’t hear from me that often….maybe because some folks make you out like you hate me. I don’t really care anymore what you think of me, but if you’re real, would you please help Miss O’Rourke?”

It didn’t occur to Michael to use the girl’s name, and it didn’t even strike her as odd that she had just prayed to a god that she feared hated her, but might deign to favor someone even odder than herself. It wasn’t so much that she had more faith for Caden than for herself than that she had more regard for Caden; Michael was a sinner consigned to hell; but maybe, just maybe, god might consider helping the girl on the other side of the door. It crossed her mind, and she didn’t even realize that she was speaking aloud,

“If I love her this much, how much more must you care for her?” Love; as easy a concept to grasp as trying to hold mercury in the palm of your hand. As painful as any slap in the face and as wonderful as any hug you ever had. At least that’s what Michael thought. She stared at the door as if she could see beyond; certainly she imagined the girl curled up almost like a baby, crying.

And she couldn’t help herself. She recalled the first thing her mother did when they reconciled. She was nineteen `and had just graduated from County College, and it seemed as though things would never change between her and her parents. But her father was gravely ill, and had reached out to her, with her mother following suit….

* * *

“Honey… I know…I don’t understand all of this. You know what we’ve believed in, and I’m not even sure of what’s right any more. But I do know that your Dad and I love you. I’m so sorry we’ve hurt you.” Katie O’Rourke sat on the couch, her daughter sitting on the floor as her mother combed her hair; a ritual that had been sadly set aside for too long. Without really thinking, Katie began to hum a familiar tune…something she had learned from her mother and her mother from her grandmother and so on. The humming turned to words and music as she began to sing.

Codail suan, mo chadra bhá¡n
Codail sá¡mh, a mhuirná­n mhilis
Luigh go ciáºin sa chliabhá¡n
Dáºn do sháºil, a leabh dhá­lis

Sleep softly, my fair lamb
Sleep peacefully, my sweet darling
Lie quietly in the cradle
Close your eyes, my faithful child

The last line made so much sense even if singing a lullaby to a nineteen year old didn’t, since in all that time, despite the hurt that her parents pushed upon her, she never gave up hope that they would come to remember her. And so, with tear-stained eyes, as much for the anticipation of Jack Callahan’s passing as for her reunion with her daughter, Katie Callahan sang and wept...

* * *

And in the hallway, despite the fact that Michael was a single grown woman, and despite the fact that Caden O’Rourke was a single grown…woman, Michael never the less sang the same sweet song to her; softly so as not to be heard, like an anonymous prayer. Who can say, but maybe the thinness of the old door added to Michael’s strong, authoritative near-tenor voice and the fading sobs of the girl inside enabled the protector to be heard. So while Caden remained sad and even a bit frightened, she found a measure of peace, and in minutes she was fast asleep.


Forty-Three Hazlett Street...about the same time...

A very focused thin stream of light hit the ornate wooden box on the top of the dresser in the otherwise darkened room. A gloved hand reached out and opened up the box, pulling rings and pins from their nests for examination. Each was viewed carefully before being carefully replaced. The man shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath.

A few minutes later, the man exited the house via the basement door, which had been left unlocked hours before. With no crime scene tape to push aside, the man carefully crept out of the basement and through the back yard of the home and slipped through a breach in the fence. And minutes later he was walking down the street as if he lived there. And of course, he did. He stopped at a car parked on the street and took two bags out of the back seat. He walked up the front steps of his porch and entered the house.

Réalta geala anocht ag luascadh ins an spéir
Fuaim na coille agus ceol na hoá­che

Bright stars tonight are rocking in the sky
Sounds of the forest and music of the night


Suantrai
words and music by
Méav Ni Mhaolchatha
and Andreeja Malir


Part Seven - An Ocean Wave...



I sit by the harbour
The sea calls to me
I hide in the water
But I need to breathe


A short while later...
 

Michael awoke suddenly, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable; her neck and back were sore from falling asleep against the bedroom door like a knight guarding a fair maiden. She gazed down at her watch; two-twelve in the morning. She turned and faced the door and listened; finally a silent if tentative peace for both Caden and perhaps herself. She stood and walked to her bedroom and retired with a caution that would remain for the rest of the night. Caden was safe if only for the time being.


Later that morning; almost noon in fact...
 

“Good morning,” Caden said as she sat down at the kitchen table. Michael was standing by the stove with a spatula in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Caden looked at her askance, wondering what was odd about the scene. She blinked twice as if to get the ‘sleep’ out of her eyes. Then she realized; Michael was wearing a Fairleigh Dickinson University sweatshirt with cut-off sleeves along with a mis-matched pair of Rutgers sweatpants. It was the first time Caden had seen her out of uniform.

“I hope you don’t mind French toast?” Michael smiled but her expression turned quickly flat as she noticed the reddish hue darkening Caden’s cheeks. Caden nodded and tilted her head slightly as if to look past Michael.

“Oh…I’m sorry.” Michael laid the spatula on the trivet on the stove and grabbed a carafe from the counter.

“Half Decaf and Half Hi-test, if that’s okay?” She poured a cup at Caden’s eager nod, but turned her head quickly when she realized how warm her own cheeks had become. Without turning back around, she spoke.

“Please feel free…I know you’ll need to call your grandmother.” Michael regretted the words even as they left her mouth; a rude and sad reminder of why the unfamiliar girl sat in her kitchen the day after Christmas.

“Thank…thank you.” Caden turned away only a bit, looking out of the kitchen window to the back yard beyond. Changing her view provided no solace whatsoever, and she began to tear up.

“I’ve already got the day off. Whatever you need?” Michael sat down across from the girl, almost commanding attention by her presence. Caden turned back to Michael, revealing a tear-stained face. Michael resisted the urge to reach out and grab Caden’s hand; folding her hands in front of her, she spoke softly.

“I’m so sorry, Miss O’Rourke.”

“Please…don’t trouble yourself. I’m…I’m alright, really.” Caden sounded as if she was trying as much to convince herself as Michael. The girl blushed; an altogether too frequent if new habit as her shame mixed with hope and wonder and sadness at the smile of the woman sitting across the table from her.

I've been run aground
So sad for a sailor
I felt safe and sound
But needed the danger


Sometime in the late afternoon...
 

“Nonee? Hi….Yes…Merry Christmas….Nonee….I….I have….Mom…” The girl spoke haltingly until the words literally stuck in her throat, causing a gag reflex as she started to cough. She tried to speak, but the grief combined with the safety of her grandmother's voice and she began to weep. Michael gently took the phone from her and spoke.

“Excuse me, Ma’am…I’m sorry. No…she’.... Ma’am? Yes, I’m a friend of your granddaughter. Yes, that’s right. Michael Callahan. No, Ma’am…..Yes, Ma’am...that is a boy's name, but I'm not a boy...” Michael paused; what was it about bad news and phone calls…she felt as if she was depriving the woman of something special.

“Your daughter-in-law was…I’m sorry, yes, Ma’am. No, Ma’am…she was.” Michael covered the phone with her hand and looked over at the sobbing girl.

“An aneurysm…yes, very fast and she felt no pain. Caden is too broken up. I’m going to let her rest for now, and she’ll…yes, this afternoon or evening for sure. Yes, she’s a lovely girl.” Michael stammered only a bit, feeling awkward over repeating the woman’s description of her granddaughter. Don’t all grandmothers think that way?

“Yes Ma’am…I am truly sorry for your loss. Yes, Ma’am…tonight at the latest. Yes, I’m sure she’ll be okay by then. Yes….I’ll tell her…No, Ma’am, I won’t forget. Right….Yes, just as soon as I get off the phone. Tonight…I’m so sorry, Ma’am. Goodbye for now.” Michael hung up the phone and sat down on the couch next to Caden.

“I’m….so….I should have….” Caden sobbed.

“No….she understands. She struggled to speak as well.” Michael lied. It seemed cordial enough, but it also seemed that there likely was no love lost between Caden’s mother and grandmother. The woman was much more concerned about how Caden was doing.

“She wanted you to know….she said, ‘tell Caden I love her very, very much.’” Michael didn’t need to follow through with the next request; maybe it was the grief that permeated the room, but she felt the need to be the rescuer even in the safe environs of her own living room, where the girl next to her needed not to fear. But she felt a duty, not only to the woman to whom she had made the promise, but to the girl beside her.

“She said, and I quote, “Give Caden a kiss from Nonee.’” Michael felt her own cheeks grow hot. She kissed her finger and placed it gently on the girl’s cheek. If she had wanted to be obtrusive, she couldn’t have designed a better gesture, even if she had meant for the opposite to occur. The girl began to sob and fell into her arms, weeping hard enough to shake both of them. Michael patted her back awkwardly. It was supposed to be a time of rest and recovery; a brief stopover in a sheltered cove of sorts as the girl was putting into the safe harbor of Michael’s life. She patted the girl’s back once again.

“Shuu shuu,” Michael whispered gently. More used to shouting out orders at a traffic accident or reading the rights to a belligerent husband at domestic disturbance, Michael felt almost out of her skin, but she succeeded in calming Caden. She pulled away slightly and looked into Caden’s eyes; a face that pleaded like a little girl who wanted time turned back. Michael brushed away the tears absent-mindedly, not meaning to do anything other than to give solace.

“I know this hurts….I’m so sorry.” She hadn’t meant to, but she leaned just a bit closer in sympathy; empathy actually since she had already begun to grieve for her own mother. Caden’s eyes widened in shame; feeling entirely unworthy of attention or comfort. She shook her head and went to pull away, but strong but gentle arms had wrapped her in protection, and they weren’t about to let go.

“No…please…no.” The girl protested and her tears came almost of their own will, literally pouring off her face. Michael touched the girl’s cheek, feeling the wetness. She grabbed a tissue off the end table and began to wipe the girl’s face. Caden tried once again to pull away. Michael would recall later how much it remind her of her life. She might not get even a fraction for what she wished, but everyone would always know somehow exactly what she wanted.

She touched the girl’s chin, cupping it gently and it happened. Actually it didn’t happen at all; we choose to act or not and what occurs is never an event but a choice. Michael chose at that moment to love the girl in front of her; a falling into love, to be sure, but also an active choice that would not only become another moment of definition for Michael, but for Caden as well as she kissed the girl.

“No. NO….” Caden sobbed even as Michael nearly smothered her with soft tender kisses. What some might mistakenly say was ‘manly,’ but really just a very strong, entirely feminine expression of love of one woman for another. Caden protested again.

“I’m…you can’t …I’m not …it won’t ever be right…” She wept as the woman continued to hold her tight against the pull of shame and fear. Michael whispered softly but firmly,

“I decide what’s right for me….you’re just right, Caden O’Rourke. Just fine indeed.”

She continued to kiss the girl even as Caden’s struggles waned in the strong and comforting embrace of a woman to whom she owed her life; a damsel of sorts in the arms of her knight in blue jersey armor. Caden gave into the moment and kissed back; her first kiss ever and the last she would ever need; other than each succeeding kiss from the woman she had begun to love.


Early that evening...
 

“Just a second…” Michael called at the ring of the doorbell. She got up from the couch, trying hard not to disturb her very restful looking guest. She opened the door to find a familiar if disappointed looking face stare at her.

“Dave…What are you…I’ve got the day off.” Dave smiled weakly but looked over her shoulder to the figure asleep on the couch. He turned to the other officer standing behind him on the porch.

“Pete, call it in, okay?” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Michael…I really am.” He noticed the girl had awoken and was sitting up.

“Kellen James O’Rourke…also known as Caden Danielle O’Rourke?” Dave Washington stepped gingerly past Michael, whose eyes had widened in realization.

“NO, Dave…tell me you’re not…”

“I’m not happy about it, either, but I have my orders. Miss, would you please stand up and put your hands behind your back.” Dave had practically lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Pete Krakowski stepped past Michael and walked up to Caden.

“I…I don’t understand.” Caden shook her head slightly.

“Kellen O’Rourke, you’re under arrest for the murder of Grace O’Rourke,” Dave began as Pete grabbed the girl’s wrists, twisting her arms behind her back rudely. He ushered her out the door, practically spitting out her rights,

“You have the right to remain silent,” Pete said as he pushed her head down and shoved her into the squad car.

“Dave…what the hell is going on.”

“There was a search of the hotel room, Mikey…they found a gun…THE gun. Your friend killed his mother.” Michael was going to correct the pronoun, but she realized that gender specific terms were the least concerns of Caden O’Rourke. Someone had killed her mother, and from the town of Morristown's perspective, Caden was good for it.

“Dave…wait a second, okay?” Michael walked out to the driveway in her bare feet and walked up to the squad car to open the door.

“I can’t let you do that, Mike!” Pete said, putting his hand on her wrist. A mean glare flashed in Michael’s eyes, and the tall officer relented. She opened the door to find a stunned Caden sitting almost catatonic in the back seat.

“I’m going to find out who did this. I promise.” She shook her head as the girl nodded without expression. Pete pushed past her and shoved the door closed.

“You can’t help him now, Mike. He killed his mother and he’s got you buffaloed if you think it was just a robbery gone bad. Dead to rights, Mike. Sorry.” He pushed past her once again, this time looking a bit more apologetic as he got behind the wheel. Dave came up and put his hand on her shoulder.

“I hope things turn out okay, Mikey, but it doesn’t look good. Pete found the gun in the dresser in her room. She’ll be arraigned and maybe the judge will set bail, but I don’t think so, Mikey. Sorry.” Dave got into the squad car and a moment later they were gone.

A moment later, Officer Michael Callahan’s eyes widened once again in realization, but this time they had a gleam that seemed to shine out as a ray of hope. Michael knew what had happened; who killed Grace O'Rourke. The trick now would be to prove it, and that would happen when she figured out why.

You are an ocean wave, my love
Crashing at the bow
I am a galley slave, my love
If only I could find out the way
To sail you ...
Maybe I'll just stow away ...


Martha's Harbour
words and music by
Andy Cousin, Tim Bricheno
and Julianne Regan

Part Eight - Riches Too Great To Count



Michael felt cold; especially her feet. She looked down and realized she was walking barefoot on a very ornate but nearly frigid marble floor. Her breath hung in the air in front of her and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. It was then she noticed she was wearing a long navy blue gown of some soft and surprisingly comfortable cloth. As she stepped around she noticed a tall mirror that went from floor to ceiling. Looking at her reflection she realized her hair was braided in an updo, and that she wore a tiara. Both the tiara and the thin cord that girded her waist were silver. The image was pleasant and frightening at the same time and she shivered.

“You look nice,” a voice came from behind.” Michael turned and saw a girl standing there. She was clad in a similar gown, except that it was all white save for a thin gold cord around her waist.

“Nice becomes you; you should do it more often.” Michael felt her cheeks grown warm and she turned away.

“Please? You don’t have to frightened.” The girl spoke softly and her voice was soothing and calmed Michael’s fear.

“I’m really just like you, you know?” The girl stepped closer and grabbed both of Michael’s hands, turning her around. Face to face, the girl smiled warmly which caused Michael’s cheeks to grow hot and red.

“I need you.” The girl spoke slowly and softly at first, but as Michael went to turn away once again, the girl’s voice grew louder and more urgent until her words became desperate; almost as frightened as the fear she had just allayed in Michael.

“I need you…Please, Michael….MICHAEL.’ The word reverberated in the wide hall as the girl began to fade as a pair of hands pulled her backward.

“MICHAEL!!!!”


She woke with a start at the sound of the telephone. It was almost seven in the morning and she sat up, shaking almost violently. The phone continued to ring until she picked up the receiver. The voice on the other end made her nightmare seem foolish and small.

“What? Oh….when? Wait…she’s coming home? Why…What?? Oh, God, Linda, no. Okay.”

Michael hung up the phone and sighed. Blinking back tears, she looked out the bedroom window and noticed it had started snowing, but even a blizzard would be a warm welcome compared to the cold pain in her heart. Her mother would be coming home early, along with Michael's sister and son-in-law. Katie Callahan had just about run out of time. Michael put her hand to her face and began to weep; bitter angry tears over lost time and lost opportunities. Frustrated helpless tears; unable to save her mother, and afraid that she would be unable to save the woman she had come to love.

She sat down on the bed and tried to think; the events of the evening before came back to her...


“Dave…what the hell is going on.”

“There was a search of the hotel room, Mikey…they found a gun…THE gun. Your friend killed his mother.” Michael was going to correct the pronoun, but she realized that gender specific terms were the least concerns of Caden O’Rourke. Someone had killed her mother, and from the town of Morristown's perspective, Caden was good for it.

“Dave…wait a second, okay?” Michael walked out to the driveway in her bare feet and walked up to the squad car to open the door.

“I can’t let you do that, Mike!” Pete said, putting his hand on her wrist. A mean glare flashed in Michael’s eyes, and the tall officer relented. She opened the door to find a stunned Caden sitting almost catatonic in the back seat.

“I’m going to find out who did this. I promise.” She shook her head as the girl nodded without expression. Pete pushed past her and shoved the door closed.

“You can’t help him now, Mike. He killed his mother and he’s got you buffaloed if you think it was just a robbery gone bad. Dead to rights, Mike. Sorry.” He pushed past her once again, this time looking a bit more apologetic as he got behind the wheel. Dave came up and put his hand on her shoulder.

“I hope things turn out okay, Mikey, but it doesn’t look good. Pete found the gun in the dresser in her room. She’ll be arraigned and maybe the judge will set bail, but I don’t think so, Mikey. Sorry.” Dave got into the squad car and a moment later they were gone.

A moment later, Officer Michael Callahan’s eyes widened once again in realization, but this time they had a gleam that seemed to shine out as a ray of hope. Michael knew what had happened; who killed Grace O'Rourke. The trick now would be to prove it, and that would happen when she figured out why.


I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,
That knights upon bended knee
And with vows no maidens heart could withstand,
They pledged their faith to me.
And I dreamt that one of that noble host
Came forth my hand to claim.

Later at Morristown Police Station....

“Hey, Mikey…take it easy,” Dave Washington put both of his hands out, palms down in gesture.

“Before you go any further, your friend has gone through booking, and we’ve got him…her in a holding cell upstairs.” Dave looked toward the stairwell and back at Michael.

“They wanted to put her in with the male population over at county jail, but I knew that would be a disaster. And I’m pretty sure the girls over at county jail would give her a bad time as well.” For all the insistence and no-nonsense that Dave had displayed at Michael’s house, he was a fair man, and seemed honestly concerned about the girl’s safety.

“You’re right about that, Dave. Thanks. Any word about bail?”

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you, Mikey. Captain already is worried you’re too close to the case.

“Too close? The girl’s mother was murdered and she has no one.” Michael tried to speak calmly, but dispassionate was never anything she could manage.

“Between you and me, it’s okay, but I have to stay focused on this. It’s a damn murder investigation, Mikey. You know what everybody is sayin’?” Dave looked away.

“What do you say, Dave?” Michael shook her head, worried that the few friends she did have at the station might walk away from her. She looked at Dave and saw a smile break across his face slowly.

“What you do with your life is your business. Ain’t my place to judge you, kid. But know this. You’re a friend, and I don’t turn my back on my friends. Whatever this girl has with you? It seems to be more than just a good thing. But we have to be objective…we don’t know her and the evidence points right at her.” At his words, something stirred inside of Michael as she recalled what had come to her. She smiled at Dave and nodded.


I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls
With vassals and serfs at my side,
And of all who assembled within those walls
That I was the hope and the pride.
I had riches all too great to count
And a high ancestral name.

Michael's home...a little after eleven on Saturday, twenty-seventh of December

“Hi…yes, that’s right. No, Ma’am, I’m a girl…yes, Ma’am. “ Michael shook her head and smiled.

“Yes…Michael is a boy’s name. Beg pardon? Oh…I’m named after my uncle…he was a hero…yes, that’s right…he died in ‘Nam.” She sighed. The conversation could go any number of ways, but for Caden’s sake it had to go well…it just had to.

“Yes….oh, that’s good; she’s not appropriate…Oh no, Ma’am…it’s just that neither jails are suitable for her. Yes, Ma’am…she told me the other night. “ Michael paused. The conversation was going badly.

“Excuse, me, please. I’m going to do everything in my power to clear your granddaughter….She…yes, Ma’am, we are friends. Beg pardon…oh you know how people sometimes ….just hit it off? Yes…oh no Ma’am…No.” She turned away from the phone and faked a cough and thought to herself.

“Not yet, at least.” Turning back to the receiver she smiled and took a breath, almost as if she was diving into deep water; it was somewhat dark and cold from the reception she was receiving.

“Yes…She left her purse…no…they really didn’t give her much of a choice. Yes…oh yes, I actually found it in the parking lot…No…it’s right here on my mantle. Yes…” Another sigh.

“No, Ma’am….I can have it put in my Mom’s safety deposit box until your granddaughter gets out. No, I can only imagine…a family heirloom and all…Excuse me…did I hear you right? Fifty Thousand dollars? No, Ma’am.“ Michael reached into the purse with her free hand and pulled out the ring. It seemed pretty but nothing to ‘write home about,‘ as her Dad used to say.

“You…I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“You didn’t give it to…gave it to Caden instead….Didn't trust..your own daughter-in-law? I don’t understand?” She didn’t understand, but something clicked inside of her and she realized why Grace O’Rourke was killed and she felt sure that her suspicions about the killer were true. The trick now was finding a way to prove it.

But I also dreamt which charmed me most
That you loved me still the same
That you loved me
You loved me still the same,
That you loved me
You loved me still the same.

849935417_148b9d7e43 (1).jpg

I Dreamt I Dwelt In Marble Halls
or The Gypsy Girl's Dream

From the Opera, The Bohemian Girl
lyrics by Alfred Bunn and
music by Michael William Balfe
performed by Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqgFqNQdPCQ


Part Nine - Maybe I'll Just Sail Away...

I sit by the harbor
The sea calls to me
I hide in the water
But I need to breathe

Morristown Police Headquarters, Sunday Afternoon, the 28th of December...

Michael stood by the large desk near the holding cell, looking very animated and drawing the attention of everyone in the big office.

“Now, Mikey, you’re too close to the investigation; the Captain wants you to take some time off. You’ve got enough to worry about with your mom and all.” Dave pointed to the Captain’s office to appeal his authority.

“I know. Besides, it looks like everyone was right.” At that, she raised her voice enough that the figure in the holding cell sat up and took notice.

“I mean, if someone went to her motel and found the gun, I guess that means I’ve been wrong all along about Miss O’Rourke. She shook her head and turned away from the cell before facing Dave Washington once again.

“The thing is, I talked to her grandmother. She says that the ring Miss O’Rourke has isn’t even a family heirloom like she was told, but property of the Royal Family that was stolen sometime in the spring of 1921 by members of the Dublin Brigade. The IRA stole it during the War of Independence. It’s worth at least fifty thousand dollars; maybe more since it belongs to the Crown.” Dave shook his head at the enormity of the value; motive enough to murder.

“Where is it now, Mikey. That’s somethin’ you don’t want floatin’ around unattended.

“Oh, I’ve got it in a safe in my mother’s bedroom. No problem.”

“Well, I guess you should bring it in tonight and turn it over to property until this gets sorted out; it has to be considered evidence.

“Oh, sorry, Dave. I’ve got to head out to Newark and pick up my mom and my sister and brother-in-law.

“So soon. I thought she just went out on Christmas Eve.”

“They decided …. She’s put it in God’s hands now, Dave.” Michael put her head down. She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Tell her me and Cherish wlll be prayin’ for her, okay?” Michael nodded and blinked back tears. She walked over to the holding cell and stood quiet. Caden got off the cot and walked to the cell door.

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up on me…on us?”

“I’m sorry, Miss O’Rourke, but after what your grandmother told be about your mom and how your dad tried to steal the ring, I just figure it’s bad news; that you fell into the same mistakes he did. I wish I felt differently.” Michael sighed but placed her index finger against her cheek as if she was thinking a deep thought. Caden noticed the gesture and echoed the sigh before turning away. No one noticed that she had stopped frowning.

I've been run aground
So sad for a sailor
I felt safe and sound
But needed the danger


That evening...

The tall figure stepped into the room from the hallway; a tight beam of light spilled out from under a cupped palm from the small flashlight in the very large hand. The figure shone all around the room until it fell on a picture frame hanging on a wall between the doorway and the closet.

“I guess that’s where the safe would be.” A deep voice remarked and was answered with,

“Dave? I’m so disappointed.” Michael shook her head and frowned, and Dave just put his head down.
 
 
 

* * *

“It took you long enough.” Michael whispered. Dave had his head down and behind the tall dresser just on the other side of the bedroom door. He smiled, but the grin was lost in the dark of the unlit room

“Had to make sure everyone had heard. I made a point of talking about it in the break room after you left.” He was about to continue but Michael patted the soft carpet to get his attention. A moment later the bedroom door opened and a figure became backlit against the hall light. Even with the glare, there was no mistaking the man in the doorway. He stepped into the bedroom, his actions mirroring Dave’s movement from only minutes before. As he drew closer to the bed Dave reached up and flicked on the bedroom light, revealing Officer Peter Krakowski.

He pulled out a flashlight and stepped up to the bed and pulled the picture frame from the wall, revealing nothing but a light impression where the paint had been covered by the painting.

"Pete? Why?" Michael stood up with her weapon holstered, giving Pete reason to put his hand on his hip, reaching vainly for his own gun, which was even at that moment being removed from the holster by the man standing behind him.

“I was hoping so much that Mikey was wrong Pete. I’m so sorry. Dave stood and unholstered his weapon before pushing it rudely against Pete’s back.

“How did you know? How the fuck did you know?” Pete shook his head and looked back at Dave and glared.

“When you were out at the car, Dave told me that the weapon had been found in Caden’s motel room. I didn’t think much of it at the time until he added that you had found it in her room in a dresser. Then I remembered. She told nobody but me where she was staying. She never got a chance to tell her mother and she had no one else to tell. For you to ‘discover’ the gun, you had to have followed me.

I don’t know what you told everyone else, but for you to know where she was, you had to have a reason for wanting to keep track of her. When you told me that it was ‘her’ mother they took out of the house, but you knew she had started out as Kellen, and this after you looked at the photo. You must have been in the house. What happened Pete? I don’t see you as being cold blooded. Why did you shoot her?”

“I only meant to scare her; my throw-away always had a hair trigger. She wasn’t even supposed to be there. I kept track of it. Everybody in the neighborhood knew about the ring. She used to complain how her mother-in-law kept it from her. I waited until she went out to her usual Wednesday night Bingo…I forgot it was Christmas Eve. They must have canceled it. She surprised me and I turned and the gun went off. I never meant to hurt anyone, Mikey. You gotta believe me.

“Why hit her in the head.” Michael stood face to face with Pete.

“She hadn’t seen me and she was startin’ to get up. I was scared she'd see me! I didn’t mean to hurt her, I swear to God.”

“You hit her hard enough that she developed an aneurysm….it was pitch dark, Pete. You could have just turned and walked away.” Michael sighed and shook her head. The lights of the patrol cars dancing off the mirror in the bedroom signaled that the backup had arrived. A moment later Pete was led out by two officers, followed almost immediately by Dave and Michael.


Back at Headquarters...

“I can’t begin to thank you, Dave.” Michael sighed; the relief of the moment gave her permission to tear up. She would cry later when she had the time, and Dave understood anyway, since his own eyes had filled with tears.

“Your dad and I were friends, Mikey. I could do no less for his daughter. It was a good thing we did here, Mikey. Maybe the salvation of what was a really lousy Christmas, huh? Well, after I go fill out a million pages of reports, I’m going home to my family, okay?” He put his hand on the girl’s shoulder and pulled her close for a hug.

“Now this is a policeman’s hug…officer to officer, okay? You wouldn’t let it get around that Dave Washington was goin’ soft, would you?” Michael blinked back a few tears. It was already a very long night that promised to get even longer.

“Tell Caden I’m sorry, but I really do need to get to the airport, okay? Can you see that she gets to my place safely?”

“You can tell me yourself, Officer Callahan. They released me when Officer Washington here told your Captain what you’d discovered." Michael turned around to find Caden standing there.

“I’m sorry I had to be rough with you in front of everybody.”

“I understood…when you touched your finger to your cheek….Nonee’s way of kissing me, right?” Michael nodded and her face turned red.

“I’m so sorry about your mom. Can I come to the airport with you?”

“Would you?” Michael asked her as if it was out of place; she didn’t know the family at all. Caden nodded and stepped closer.

“I think it would be a good thing if your family met me, don’t you?” She kissed Michael lightly on the cheek. A few catcalls and whistles came from around the office and Dave waved at Michael and nodded with a big smile. Michael waved back; a bit sheepishly, but with a similarly big smile before answering.

“Yes, Miss O’Rourke. It would be a good thing indeed.


You are an ocean wave, my love
Crashing at the bow
I am a galley slave, my love
If only I could find out a way to sail you
Maybe I'll just stow away

Part Ten - A Free Good Will...
An Interlude...

“So…” Caden looked down at her shoes. Michael was about to speak when she felt a tap on her shoulder, followed by,

“Mikey?” She turned to face Sgt. Denise Falcone’. The woman smiled and pointed to a phone on the desk nearby; one light was flashing.

“It’s for you. Your sister.” She smiled and nodded at her before turning slightly to face Caden as Michael took the call.

“Hi, I’m Denise…you must be the girl we’ve heard so much about.” She smiled again and Caden blushed, feeling entirely out of place and phony.

“I’m glad to meet you.” She held out her hand; Caden took it in hers and shook firmly. She pulled her hand away slowly, feeling awkward and very ill at ease; a warm feeling moved up her neck and into her cheeks, causing them to grow hot.

“Oh, please, Miss O’Rourke. Michael could certainly do worse, and I expect after hearing about you from her that she could never find better, right?” Caden did her best to avoid shaking her head no, even though she felt inadequate and insecure.

“I’m so sorry about your Mom; my cousin Amelia went to school with her and remembers going to your baby shower.” She smiled and raised her left eyebrow ever so slightly; more a reactive tic than an expression, but the meaning wasn’t lost on Caden. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp; shrugging her shoulder s ever so slightly.

“Yes, Miss O’Rourke…I know. So what. You’re who you are, right? Who am I to judge? And Michael seems so taken with you. Really, I’m glad; Michael is such a great gal, you know?” Denise smiled once again before saying finally,

“I’ve got to get back; got a week to plan for, okay. Again…I’m glad.” With that she walked back into the inner office.

“Linda says that they got re-routed to Atlanta because of the snow here. They won’t be getting into Newark until tomorrow at about ten.” Michael peered through the window blinds near the desk; it was snowing hard and fast.

“Can you just drop me off at home?” Caden shook a bit at the sound of her own words. She realized there was nothing to go home to, but she also was shivering from a cold draft from the ceiling. Michael stepped closer and put her arm around Caden, pulling her close.

“Let’s just go over to my place. It’s late, and you’ve had such a horrible day. You probably just need to rest.” Caden went to pull away; her insecurities pushed hard against the acceptance that Michael had offered. Michael squeezed her hand softly.

“Miss O’Rourke? It’s okay. Let’s get you home and into bed, okay?”

One I love, two she loves
Three she's true to me


Shortly thereafter; Michael's home...

“I’m sorry, but I really have nothing to speak of that you might find comfortable. I hope you don’t mind wearing some of my mom’s stuff?”

Michael stood outside her mother’s bedroom, waiting for Caden to come out. A moment later she heard the click of the door lock; she had encouraged the girl to do whatever made her feel safe. It was disappointing; that one little act seemed to tell Michael that things had cooled off. The door opened and Caden stepped out. She wore a long quilted white satin robe over pink satin pajamas. Her feet were bare, and she shivered despite the warm robe. Her look had already told Michael not to get too close. She brushed past Michael and walked down the hallway toward the living room.

“Would you like some tea?” Michael seemed tentative in the offer, feeling already put off by the girl. Things were getting more awkward moment by moment.

“Do you have any beer?” Caden called from the living room. A moment later Michael placed a six-pack of Lowenbrau on the coffee table. She held up the bottle opener and Caden deferred.

“I…I don’t drink that often…I hope you understand.” Understand? Michael realized how horribly stressed the girl had become; in the space of a few days she had been attacked; lost her mother; gotten arrested for murder; and…

When the fire to ice will run
And when the tide no longer turns
And when the rocks melt with the sun
My love for you will have just begun

“I mean…it’s not like I drink at all. I’m sorry.” Michael nodded slightly in agreement and took a swig from her own bottle. It felt hot in the living room as the fire she had started warmed them. The beer, as cold as it was, did nothing to cool her off. She pulled off her uniform blouse, revealing a navy blue sports bra. On her shoulder, just peeking out from under one of the bra straps was a tattoo; a sprig of clover slightly covering a harp.

“Can…do you mind if I have that tea…I’m awfully cold?” Caden placed the half-empty bottle down on the coffee table.

“Oh, gosh, where are my manners?”

She shook slightly as she leaned over the table to reach for a coaster. As she moved forward, Michael was already reaching for a coaster, and their heads bumped. Instead of reacting, Caden pulled back slightly and looked into Michael’s eyes. The girl shook even more and went to pull back, but her progress was halted as Michael grabbed her hand. She pulled slightly on it and Michael let go, but instead of pulling away completely, the girl touched Michael’s face.

“I’m sorry…I’m…scared. You do understand?” She turned slightly, looking at the fireplace as a large spark popped loudly. Michael sighed, getting Caden’s attention once again.

“I…you can’t possibly care….” Michael went to interrupt; angry at the implication until Caden continued, holding her hand up to silence the woman in front of her.

“I…it’s just that you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like me. I’m…” She paused and looked down at her breasts and then over at Michael’s chest, as if to compare.

“I’m not real.” She put her head down. Michael couldn’t see at that point, but she knew the girl had to be crying. She cried a lot; not that it bothered Michael. In fact, she appreciated that the girl…the girl could express her emotions. She found she was drawn out by the girl’s honesty even if Caden couldn’t be honest with herself. She took a deep breath and dove into the deep end of the rest of her life. Turning to face the girl, she reached over and cupped her chin softly and raised her face.

“I’m sorry,” the girl pled, trying to put her head down once again. Firmly but softly, she felt the hand that held her chin only a moment before lift her face once again. And she stared into her own future as she saw in Michael’s eyes the love and acceptance that she had never known. She started to shake, and the sobs came in huge waves as Michael wrapped her in the strong arms of a strong woman.

They tell me she's poor, they tell me she's young
I tell them all to hold their tongue
If they could part the sand from the sea
They never could part my love from me

She put her head on Michael’s chest and her tears rolled down and wet Michael’s cleavage. Not exactly an anointing, but as close as one could get given the moment. Michael kissed her forehead softly and the girl looked up into her face once again, beholding the same expression…no…even more intense as the love the girl felt before had been selfless, and this look mixed the selfless with the selfish in a way as she realized that Michael not only loved her but wanted her; then and there.

“You…love me?” Caden asked the question, and if there was any doubt before she spoke, there would never be any doubt afterwards as Michael leaned closer and kissed her. It was new for both of them. Michael had been in relationships with women and even some men, but it had always been with the mutual understanding that things were never going to be forever. With Caden, she pictured herself growing old and secure.

And Caden had never been kissed in her lifetime; even when she had lived as Kellen for the first twenty years of her life, the only kisses she had ever received were the drunken ones of her abusive father and the distant ones of an uncaring mother. Hardly any friends growing up, much less any romance or sex.

When I'm awake, I find no rest
Until her head lies on my breast
When I'm asleep I'm dreaming of
My own, my dear, my one true love

But in that moment the two knew that they knew that they had found each other; not as mere friends, though that would have been a tremendous blessing for both of them. They knew that they would be lovers; as long as they drew a breath, there would be love; tender and warm and rough and boisterous and passionate. Caden pulled Michael closer by her bra straps and began kissing her neck. Michael shuddered and lifted her right hand; placing it on Caden’s breast.

“Miss O’Rourke? May I call you Caden?”

Michael’s attempt at humor was lost, but in favor of something much more enjoyable as the girl pushed the bra open and began to kiss Michael’s breast. She kissed Michael’s nipple and the woman shuddered once again as the girl began to bite the soft flesh. Michael felt a warmth below that only added to the confused but welcome feelings she was having above. And not just on the outside. She could have sworn her heart grew warm as well, adding to the heat she already felt from both the fire in the hearth and the girl in her arms.

“You can call me whatever you want,” the girl said between bites, her words a bit garbled as her lips pushed softly on the other nipple. The girl reached down and unbuttoned Michael’s trousers and Michael arched her back almost involuntarily as the girl pulled her pants down and off her legs. A tender touch on the surface of her panties was followed quickly by a gentle caress under the fabric, sending the girl into yet another shudder followed by a moan.

“I …don’t ….mind…calling you….Michael….” the voice came from below as Michael felt her panties literally tear off her body. Soft, tender lips began kissing her…feelings that lay dormant for quite some time; more so that these were as intense but also as subtle in a way as she had ever felt. In a few moments she was arching her back once again; her mound pushing hard against the girl’s attentive ministrations. And the intensity grew….and expanded…and then in a moment it was over.

When the fire to ice will run
And when the tide no longer turns
And when the rocks melt with the sun
My love for you will have just begun

The room was filled with relieved sobbing, but not from Michael. She cried softly and stroked Caden’s hair as her lover; her new best friend and mate for life lay in a fitful rest on her stomach. The girl’s convulsions shook the couch and she reached up and touched Michael’s ear and then cheek.

“I’m so sorry…so…so sorry.” Caden kept repeating it; a sad mantra that intruded on their moment. Michael wasn’t mad at Caden, but she was angry. She stayed calm but firmly if haltingly said,

“You…you…have nothing to be sorry for…” She bit her lip, unable to finish the sentence as her love for the girl overwhelmed her.

One I love, two she loves
Three she's true to me

How could anyone not love the girl, she thought. Who could ever see her and not care? It was Michael’s turn to sob; her cries a sweet and precious counterpoint to the girl’s weeping.

“I can never…” Caden’s words were cut short as Michael placed four fingers softly over the girl’s lips; silencing the girl’s protests.

“I love you.” Michael pulled away her hand and the girl sobbed the same protest once again.

“I can never…”

Michael touched the girl’s cheek and guided her to pull up closer. Caden crawled up Michael’s body and was met with the one kiss that would surpass what had only moments before been supreme. She spoke as she kissed, her words still heard even as her lips brushed hard against Caden’s

“I love you….I love you.”

She pulled back and placed her hand on Caden’s head guiding her to the notch between her left breast and arm; inviting the girl to feel the warmth and safety and security that was made for her before the foundation of the earth; a gift of each girl to the other from a loving God. Caden kept repeating,

“No…no.”

Michael didn’t bother to correct her, but softly stroked the girl’s back with her fingernails; not a sensual act per se even though it was highly sensual. The scratches played across Caden’s back as a soothing welcome; something so foreign but so personal at the same time. In a few minutes the protests had ceased and Caden was asleep in her lover’s arms, as Michael repeated softly,

Tá¡ tẠgo h-á¡lainn...Tá¡im i ngrá¡ leat.*

Michael placed her hand over the sleeping girl's heart; her words barely spoken for the sweet tears in her eyes. She spoke once more.

A chuisle, a chroá­...**

Michael cried softly as the warmth of the girl's body carried her away to dreams of marble halls and gowns and soft breezes on a warm summer night.

One I love, two she loves
Three she's true to me
One I love, two she loves
And three she's true to me


*You're beautiful. I'm in love with you.

**My pulse, my heart

One I Love
words and music by
John Spillane
as performed by
Meav Ni Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LcL49jw4vA



Part Eleven - And Certain Songs our Hearts Do Say...


Newark Airport, the following morning, December 29...
Michael and Caden stood at the gate waiting for the door to open. A moment later a flight attendant shoved the door aside and they saw Linda pushing a wheelchair. Katie spotted them and waved vigorously as they approached.

“Well, I’m back,” Katie said with a lilting laugh as she quoted Tolkien. She was finished with her quest; a brave journey that was destined to come to an end soon. She had fought the good fight, as they say, but her body wasn’t strong enough to continue the battle without some miracle.

The trip from the airport was only slightly awkward as Linda engaged Caden in conversation the entire time; more out of a sense of protecting her mother from being overwhelmed after the flight than a worry about the girl. Caden proved to be dutifully curious about details of Michael’s childhood, and being in the back of the minivan while Katie had slept didn’t hurt either.


Hours later....

When is the hour at the end of the day
That we must take the time to pray?
And certain song our hearts do say
Our children had a better life todayl

“Mom….” Michael stood at the bedroom door as her mother sat in bed, reading a copy of A Ritual Bath.*** She looked up and smiled.

“Come in, honey. Can’t sleep either?” At four in the morning, they were still awake even though the house was warm and toasty and all of them were exhausted after talking for a few hours once they arrived back at the house. Katie patted the bed and Michael walked over. She went to sit down, but Katie shook her head.

“Nope…Momma needs some cuddle time.” She pointed to the bed and scooted over, making room in front of her for Michael to lie down. She pulled her daughter close and squeezed tight; the one thing the girl had never been able to resist. She wanted to turn her head around, but Katie had started to rub her shoulder; an action that had the same effect every single time. The girl began to cry quietly while Katie whispered softly in her ear,

“Ssshhhhhh…..my baby….” At nearly twenty-nine, she was hardly a baby, but she’d always be ‘my baby’ to Katie; a fact that made their brief estrangement all the more painful only a few years before. The return of acceptance and love by her mother was met at first with tentative half-fear and cautious trust that eventually gave way to faith as Katie and Michael’s dad both proved how sorry they had been for rejecting her. And now that they had finally repaired the breach, Katie was leaving. Almost like being rejected once again, especially coupled with her father’s death not long before.

“It’s not fair, Mom…it just isn’t fair.” Only days before, Michael had served as the comfort when Caden lost her own mother, but now was almost inconsolable even though Katie Callahan still tenaciously drew breath. She almost flinched as Katie leaned close; her arms, weak as they had become, still proved to be too strong for Michael to resist. She turned around and buried her face in Katie’s shoulder and sobbed.

“Darlin? My mother used to say that all the time… But my darling daughter? There isn’t any such thing as fair. It just is what it is. No cosmic scale balancing out things. If that had been the case, I suppose we’d all be living in our own private hell. But we make choices, sweetie, even in the midst of pain we can choose to live, aye?” Katie Callahan seemed to return to her Irish roots when she had gotten sick; an émigré from Roscommon at the age of fourteen, she had met Michael’s dad when he was at the police academy. Two daughters plus a terrific son-in-law and two grandchildren and then a widow, she had gotten a ‘second wind’ of faith in her battle with cancer. And she knew that she knew that she’d be ‘okay,’ as she’d tell everyone who would listen. It made little difference to Michael, since she felt all alone.

“Mom…I don’t know what to do…” She choked back a sob.

“I’m still here, honey. I’m not going anywhere for a bit,” Katie said it as if her passing was scheduled like a mid-week appointment with her hairdresser. She stroked the girl’s face softly.

“You want advice or opinion?” Michael shrugged her shoulders; any words from her mother would have been welcome.

“Advice is cheap, and unnecessary, since you already know what you need. So my opinion is that this girl seems to make you…happy.” It hardly seemed that Katie would have known Caden enough to formulate any opinion about the girl, but she continued,

“I saw the way you looked at her when she was talking with Linda at the airport. I’ve never seen you look like that at anyone, honey. And she just hangs on every word you speak.” Her words evoked a slight smile from Michael and she braved the next few words knowing that they needed to be said.

“If I wasn’t going anywhere, I’d still be nodding and smiling at the two of you. You hardly know the girl and yet you and she behave so comfortably around each other; like you’ve known her all along. She’s special to you.”

That word, ‘special,’ seemed to hit a raw nerve with Michael. She recalled all the times her mother’s friends would make an issue of how ‘special’ she was after she and Rosa Pentangellis were caught making out after field hockey practice in High School. And now…how would she ‘explain’ how ‘special’ Caden was? What could she say? Katie made it easy for her.

“Honey…I know about Caden. She and I had a talk when you nodded off in the recliner. I know what happened between her and her mom, and it’s so sad….” Katie’s voice trailed off when it came to her in mid-sentence just how much Michael and Caden had in common.

“I don’t want you to go, Mom…please don’t go?” It was almost a foolish childish plea, but it was also a prayer. Katie looked at her daughter and smiled.

“Honey? I don’t have any control over what happens. Either my body is going to do what it needs to do or it won’t. I want to stay around just as much as you want me to. Maybe a bit more, aye?” She seemed to grow stronger, and she nodded her head as if she was agreeing with what she was about to say.

“I’m hanging around just as long as God allows me, and I’m not going to spend it tucked away in a room in a bed.

“We’re going to have a nice time getting to know each other, sweetie. I’m not too well-versed on what’s allowed, but I know that someday it will be okay, aye?”

“I don’t understand, Mom?” Michael’s eyes widened in confusion.

“Well, child, I do know things move exceedingly slow, especially in New Jersey, but until things change, I suppose I’ll just have to be content with what does work.” Michael’s expression didn’t change and Katie smiled, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

“I might not be able to see my baby girl get married, but that doesn’t mean I can’t welcome my new daughter into the family, aye?”

Now is the hour at the end of the day
That we must take the time to pray
And certain song our hearts do say
Our children had a better life today
Our song and dance will bring us peace today


*You're beautiful. I'm in love with you.

**My pulse, my heart

*** The Ritual Bath by Faye Kellerman

A Celtic Prayer
words and music by
David Agnew
as performed by
Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FO2J2EI2FI

Martha's Harbour
Written by Tim Bricheno, Andy Cousin, Julianne Regan
as performed by All About Eve
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCuSo8q7HnI

Part Twelve - Arrivals and Departures - Finale!



I sit by the harbor
The sea calls to me
I hide in the water
But I need to breathe

Wednesday evening, January 28, 1987...

After all was said and done, in the midst of changes in the Callahan family, Katie’s struggle had already become a supreme testimony to her faith, her character, and her love for her daughters. In finding her place in the grand scheme of things, she had brought new hope to her family, who believed with all of their hearts in her survival… and she found herself greatly renewed and restored, if only for a time.

“Mom...I…” Michael sat on the couch with her hands folded in her lap, a look of sad disappointment on her face.

“Honey, what’s wrong.” Katie knew, since she had already held this conversation with another, but she knew that Michael needed to speak her fears in order at least for the two of them to face them.

“It’s…she doesn’t…” Michael was always strong; the ‘man’ of the family in her own eyes in some ways; especially with her father gone and her brother-in-law gentle and considerate enough to hold that legacy at a safe and almost sacred distance. Michael never felt she had the luxury to leave it alone, and felt the pressure without the support or the means to fulfill a dream her father should never have spoken. Once reconciled, it became a moot point, but she felt somehow that she had to be strong like her father before her. She was strong, but she was a woman of character and mettle who always was compelled to prove herself in a man’s world. So her tears made her feel almost puny.

“She’s afraid, honey. You know why?” Katie’s question was really a statement. Michael came from the same cloth but in a decidedly different pattern than Caden; both felt less than whole and both felt that they didn’t deserve to be happy. Years of guilt, albeit forgiven and set aside in so many ways, pushed Michael into believing that the girl she loved could ‘do better,’ despite protestation from both Katie and her sister Linda.

And Caden felt that Michael deserved someone who could make things work the way they ‘should;’ her own guilt a constant acid drip of condemnation that had worn her down. Even the reconciliation she herself had experienced with her own mother did little to temper the shame and guilt she felt for merely and finally taking the steps to be herself. That the steps were irreversible made her feel all the more guilty even though Michael professed her love over and over.

“Mom…I…I lost Daddy….and….” Michael looked away and bit her index finger at the knuckle to stifle the tears that still flowed freer than at any time in her life. Her shoulders shook, causing Katie to literally run to her; embracing her tightly as she sat next to her on the couch.

“Honey….I promise….I’m not going anywhere just yet, and I believe that you two will find that neither of you can walk away from what you know is the greatest blessing you’ll ever experience. She loves you, but you know that isn’t enough. She needs to believe that you love her….not just the idea of being with someone, but that she is ‘the’ someone. She doesn’t feel that…at least not yet. And you have to believe that no matter what, she loves you. You know she does, but you don’t trust yourself or her.”

“What do I do, Mom…I don’t know what to do?”

Michael looked away, her face hot with shame, as if being who she was had been unacceptable. Maybe everyone was right…she was the odd one in the family and even with her fellow officers, there always seemed to be a distinction made; even with friends. Undeclared professions of faith that excluded her. Unspoken beliefs that accepted her as someone to be tolerated rather than embraced. And if she felt that way, how much more did that permeate the heart of the woman she loved. Did she really see Caden as a woman? Could she see Caden the way she herself wished to be seen?

“You, young lady, have only one thing to do. Go to her. Tell her how you feel. If you really love her the way I think you do, then you’ll make it plain and put her heart at ease, okay? Do you love her, Michael?” Katie’s eyes widened as her expression seemed to say, “well, do you?”

“Oh, Mom….I love her so much it hurts. I close my eyes and I see her. Even when I’m awake, all I can do is think of how much I miss her!” Michael shook her head as if she was unsure; not of her love but of her ability to convince Caden just how truthful her declaration just then had been.

“Then go to her and tell her.”

“I…”

“I know you do, honey. But long after I’m gone, you’ll be living your life, and she HAS to be a part of it for both your sakes. I’m going to be okay, no matter what.” At the last sentence, Michael could bear the reality of the brevity of her mother’s life no longer, and she collapsed into Katie’s arms, sobbing.

“Beidh gach rud ceart go leor,” she repeated over and over as she kissed Michael’s cheeks; their tears mingling in an anointing. “It’s going to be alright.”


Sunday afternoon of February 1st...

I've been run aground
So sad for a sailor
I felt safe and sound
But needed the danger

“He…hello,” Caden stood on the porch of her mother’s…her home. She placed both hands onto one of the columns, holding on as if to keep from falling. Michael stepped up onto the porch. Caden backed up and found herself almost pinned against the screen door. Michael smiled awkwardly and took a step back; more out of her own embarrassment than in consideration for Caden, who remained leaning against the door.

“I…I wanted to talk to you…to …to talk with you.” Michael smiled; this time with a bit more confidence and determination. Caden remained where she had stood.

“Oh….okay,” Caden said weakly; a tone that sounded almost like resignation seemed to waft around and between them as Caden looked away. Michael didn’t want to be daring and she had resolved herself to being in control, but she took charge, almost like she would if she was directing traffic or taking information from a witness.

“Do you know how I feel about you?” Clarifying by asking Caden didn’t work at all. The girl sighed and smiled weakly.

“You’re my best friend.” “Best friend…” The kiss of death in most relationships, but Michael was undaunted; or at least if she was afraid, she had decided not to show it. She took a step closer, wanting so desperately to convince Caden how much she cared. Words might work for most, and they would help in the coming days, but Caden was a woman who doubted herself, and the only way Michael could convince her otherwise came in a very simple and straightforward manner.

She stepped even closer, and Caden had retreated into the niche between the door and the bump out on the porch; literally cornered. Michael lifted her right hand and put it behind Caden’s head, placing it on the girl’s neck; a firm but gentle grasp. One last step and she was upon her; Caden had nowhere to go, and it was the best trip she never took.

“I love you, Caden O’Rourke. I’ve loved you since we met. I have loved you through all of your sorrow and mine, and I will continue to love you. I love you now and always, and if that doesn’t convince you, then maybe there’s no hope for us, but I need at least to show you what I mean, okay?” She put her other hand on Caden’s hip and pulled her close, kissing her as emphatically but as gently as anyone ever could. The girl tried to pull away; believing that in abandoning her love for Michael she was blessing her.

“No you don’t. I won’t let you be scared. No more safe and sound; you have to face our anger! You can’t be scared that you don’t deserve this. I sure as hell deserve you, and you need to know just how much of a blessing I can be…how much of a blessing I am for you!” She pulled her close once again and kissed her hard and with no regrets whatsoever.

And Caden kissed back, hard and with every regret she ever had vanishing like so much fog in the bright warmth of a friendly sun. And Caden knew. And Michael knew. Caden began to weep; a characteristic that might have seemed like she was just another one of those folks that people despise because of weakness and oddity. But her crying was from relief; a knowledge that only love could impart to her that said ‘you are my beloved; I am blessed.’ She gave into the kiss like her life depended upon it.

“Oh…Dear god I love you so much….” She declared. Grabbing Michael by the hand, she led her into the house and over to the sofa; the only sound at that point being the simultaneous sighs that escaped from their lips and the loud slap of wood to wood as the screen door sprung shut. They had already demonstrated that they were capable of making love. This moment belonged to eternity as both proved to the other that they were capable of being loved. And love they did…..


VFW Hall, Morris Plains, New Jersey, Saturday, May 17th...

Michael had been used to wearing dark sober colors for quite some time, but at that moment she felt almost alone and sad; the black dress seemed to be almost a punishment. She looked over at Caden, noting the altogether unfamiliar and uncomfortable similarity of their attire; the time had finally come, and they stood together as their friends and family stared sadly at them. A tall, fifty-ish African-American woman came close and put her hand gently on Michael's arm, causing her to wince.

“Mikey…if that isn't the sexiest dress I ever did see,” Cherish Washington laughed as Michael’s face grew bright red; a condition that only grew worse when she teetered on the heretofore never-worn pumps with the three inch heels. Dave Washington laughed and nodded at his wife’s remark and at Michael’s altogether uncomfortable expression. She felt she was about to go down when Caden’s hand grasped hers tightly.

“It’s going to be okay. Just follow my lead and we’ll be just fine!” A soft, warm laugh went a long way to easing the butterflies in Michael’s stomach. She looked over at Caden and said with a nervous laugh,

“Ready, Miss O’Rourke?” A nod was quickly followed by,

“Don’t breathe this to a single soul..especially Governor Kean, but between you and me? * It’s Caden Callahan, if you please, and yes….” She paused and looked over at her erst-while new mom. Katie nodded and smiled and waved. Caden waved back before returning her attention to her partner. She laughed softly and beamed broadly before finishing.

“I’m ready whenever you are, Sargeant Callahan!” And with that they stepped out onto the dance floor!

**
Dheannain sá¹gradh ris a nighean duibh
N' deidh dhomh eirigh as a 'mhadainn
Dheannain sá¹gradh ris a nighean duibh

Dheannain sá¹gradh ris a'ghruagaich
'Nuair a bhiodh a' sluagh nan codal



* In 1987, as in every other state in the United States, no domestic partnerships nor so-called Civil Unions existed in New Jersey. That didn't stop some folks from being together, but it severely hindered any equal benefits under law until 2004, and Civil Unions didn't become legal in New Jersey until 2007. To date, New Jersey does not permit same-sex marriages.


**
I played with the young dark-haired girl
When I woke in the morning
I played with the young dark-haired girl

I played with the long-haired girl
When everyone was asleep

Martha's Harbour
Written by Tim Bricheno, Andy Cousin, Julianne Regan
as performed by
Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hPYmcuEaKo

Dark Haired Girl
Traditional; arranged by Méav, Rossa & Colm á“ Snodaigh
as performed by
Méav Ná­ Mhaolchatha
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=02Fx4x...

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