The Gift of Fever Part Two
Neal waited. And waited. And finally got up and pulled the doors to the terrace closed. He was almost back to his bed when they opened again. “What the…” he turned around and stopped.
“Hi, Neal.” She was standing just inside the open doors and there was a smile on her face. “I’ve missed you.”
“Ellen.” Neal walked to her and wrapped his arms around her. When he pulled away he could feel the tears burning behind his eyes. “I suppose you’re my first spirit?”
Ellen nodded and swiped a tear off his cheek with her thumb. “The Ghost of Christmas Past. That’s me.”
Neal rolled his eyes. “Not that it’s not good to see you, even if you are a figment of my imagination, but do we have to? I remember how Christmases went as a child.”
Ellen only smiled. “You think you do. Do you trust me, Neal?”
He nodded. “More than most.”
“Then come with me. Let me show you something.” She held out her hand and he took it. He blinked.
And when he opened his eyes again, just half a second later, it wasn’t his loft that he was standing in but a small living room adorned with mismatched Christmas decorations and well used furniture. He looked at Ellen, confused. “Where are we? I don’t recognize…”
“Of course you don’t.” She patted his cheek. “I wouldn’t expect you to, look how little you are!” She pointed past him.
Neal turned and then turned back to Ellen in disbelief. She only smiled wider and nodded back to the scene unfolding behind him. He looked again, curiosity getting the better of him.
The youngest version of himself that he’d ever seen was toddling across the floor toward the Christmas tree in the corner. He couldn’t have been much more than two. For a moment he thought that it was ridiculous that he should recognize himself in a toddler, but when the baby dropped to his bottom and looked through Neal - the bright blue of his own eyes was undeniable.
“Momma!” The boy shrieked and waved his hands in the air.
Neal turned and stepped back as his mother, as she had been before his father left, swept into the room full of beauty and grace. “Neal!” She laughed and swooped him up. “Are you going after that tree again?”
She tickled his belly and the child laughed. “No, no, treeeee.” He made grabby hands and leaned forward in his mother’s arms toward the shiny bulbs. “P’etty!” He clapped.
Neal couldn’t help but smile at the grin on his mother’s face. At the pure radiating innocence on his own baby face. “We look so happy.” He turned to Ellen again.
“You were.” Ellen touched his arm. “Your parents were so proud of you.”
Neal looked back and the scene had changed, same year; the decorations hadn’t changed. This time it was his father airplaning him above his head. The child in his arms was giggling and straining for the santa hat his dad wore.
“Jimmy! He just ate! If you don’t stop he’s going to throw up all over the rug.” His mother was suddenly there, smiling.
His dad held the boy out at arms length. “Neal? Are you going to throw up on the rug?” He asked with mock seriousness.
“No ‘frow up!” He held his arms out again and made motor noises. “Pweese fwy me dadda!”
His father laughed and his mother shook her head, but her smile grew. She stepped in before James could lift the kid again and wrapped them both into a hug. “Merry Christmas, boys.”
“Merry Christmas, Love.” His dad kissed the top of her head.
“I wish I could remember this.” Neal was a little ashamed of the tears on his face. “I don’t have any memories, Ellen. Not of when we were like this.”
“Now you have this one.” She took his hand again. “But there’s another that I have to show you. And it’s a little harder to watch.” Her smile was gone. “But it’s just as important.”
Neal shot another glance back at the family, their voices were muted now but he could still see happiness radiating from them. “Let’s go.”
He closed his eyes as Ellen took his hand. This time it was the smell that told him where he was. Stale tobacco and old carpet. “St. Louis.” He opened his eyes and took in the shabby little apartment where he’d spent most of his youth.
“You remember.” Ellen let go of his hand.
“Of course I do. You don’t forget a place you called home.” Neal looked around. There was an artificial tree in one corner of the small living room, ragged with years of use. A few impersonal ornaments hung limply from it’s branches, and it’s lights were dark. No gifts sat under the tree and the stockings that were hung on the wall with scotch tape were empty.
It wasn’t until he took a step forward that he spotted his mother, older now; in more ways than just her appearance. She was sitting at the old scarred table, cigarette in hand and coffee at her elbow. She looked lost in thought; sadness and loneliness etched across her features. And even being completely honest with himself, Neal couldn’t remember ever seeing this look on her face. Not until the day he left.
He heard his teenage self before he saw him. The slam of the bedroom door and the thud as he ran down the hall. “Morning mom!” He slid to a stop in front of her and kissed her cheek. The look of sadness was, momentarily, gone from her face. “I’m going to go out with Justin, ok? I’ll be back before dark!”
And suddenly Neal remembered this Christmas with incredible detail. He was 16 and Justin had been the first boy to steal (and break) his heart. He’d been just as broken as Danny, just as fatherless, just slightly more devious. They’d spent the day betting pennies, playing cards, and playing ‘tricks’, as Justin called them, on unsuspecting people passing by. He’d had a blast. It had been the first Christmas in a long time that he’d felt happy. Justin had given him a keychain and a kiss before they parted and Danny had floated home on his own personal cloud.
But now, watching his mom alone in the kitchen as the door slammed behind him, guilt tainted any good memory of this day. She dropped the cigarette into the coffee and her head into her hands. She didn’t cry, but when she looked up again her eyes were red. She stood, slowly and made her way to the dark fake tree and plugged it in, the lights glittering in the tears in her eyes until she blinked them away. She ran a hand over his name embroidered into the stocking on the wall, Danny. “Merry Christmas, Neal.” And then the tears came, streaming and unstoppable as her sobs shook her.
Neal reached out, his own tears burning like fire, but his hand passed over his mother like she wasn’t there. He turned to Ellen, angry. “Why did you bring me here? Why did you show me this?” He turned back to his mother. “I’m so sorry, mom. I’m so sorry.” But of course, it was he wasn’t really there.
“Do you remember what this place felt like when you were 16?” Ellen’s voice was just over a whisper.
“A cage.” Neal looked around again. “A prison.”
“Your mom drank. And you ran. And ran. You landed here, safely - somehow, every night. Even when you didn’t want to.” She moved until she was standing just beside his mother, crying silently now, her sobs muted. “But by your demons, you were loved. She might have failed you, Neal. But she will never stop loving you.”
“I’d like to go. I want to go home.” His fists were clenched by his side and his jaw hurt for the tension he was biting down on. “Please.”
Ellen nodded and swiped a thumb over his lashes, collecting tears. When he opened his eyes again he was in his bed, but his cheeks were still wet. Ellen was gone.
He took a deep shuddering breath and closed his eyes tight. They flew open again as the bed dipped slightly and a hand ghosted his forehead. The sight before him broke him and he scrambled into a seated position against the headboard.
“Hello, Neal.” Kate was smiling that impish grin she saved just for him.
“Kate?” He gagged on the word. Swallowed and tried again. “Kate.”
Her smile grew. “You didn’t forget me.”
“How could I?” He brought a hand up to touch her face, but thought better of and pulled his hand away.
Hurt flickered across her face for a moment before she found her smile again. “You look good.” She stood and held out her hand.
He took it and got up off the bed to stand beside her. “Christmas Present?”
“Yes.”
With a blink they were transported across the miles and he found himself standing in a dining room brimming with people. Kids playing in the room next door, a football game somewhere; volume turned up far too loud, and the smell of Dinner in the air. He didn’t recognize the house, but there was something familiar about the people in it. “Where are we?”
“These are the Mitchells. Meet Elizabeth’s family.” She waved a hand around the room. “These are the people whose tests you’ll have to pass someday. And you will, if you choose to, don’t worry.”
He looked at her skeptically. "Tests?"
Kate smiled. "How much do you think Elizabeth has to love you before she introduces you to her dad?"
Neal swallowed hard.
"Consider that knowledge my gift." Kate slid her hand down his arm and took his hand. "But your future undecided isn't what we're here to see."
She led, he followed. She pushed through a door and he found himself in a wide open kitchen. And smack in the middle of it Elizabeth sat on stool behind an island, leaning on Peter who was standing behind her. Neither were smiling. Neal approached, unable to stop himself.
"Maybe we should go." Elizabeth's voice was small in the echoey room. "I'm worried, Peter."
"I know." Peter held his phone to his ear for a minute before he spoke again. "Neal? It's Peter. Again. I know you're mad. And I know your sick. But you need to answer your phone. I need, we need to hear your voice, ok? We need to know you're ok."
"I wish he was here." Elizabeth's hands were white knuckling the countertop. "We shouldn't have left."
"I know." Peter dialed again. Listened, hung up. Swore.
“Even if he hadn’t been sick, Peter, we shouldn’t have left.” She sounded angry. “It’d be like, like, dammit Peter. You wouldn’t have left me. And I wouldn’t have left you. What message are we sending him when we both just walk away?” She turned to face him. “That he’s not as important as us. That we love him less. That’s not fair because it’s not true.”
Peter nodded. “I know.” He put his phone in his pocket and pulled her up and into his arms. “I tried, El. I tried to ask him if-” Peter sighed. “I didn’t believe him. But I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.”
“I wish he was here.” She looked around. “He’s family. He should be here.”
The scene muted and Neal turned to Kate. "I never asked to go."
"I know why. Do you?" She shook her head lightly.
"I'm a secret," Neal's face flushed.
"No." She poked him in the chest. "Try again."
Neal frowned. "But I..."
"When he asked you if you had plans, Neal, what did you say?"
"I told him I did."
"You lied." She emphasized the last word and he opened his mouth to defend himself but she covered it with her hand. "You didn't say 'I want to spend the day with you.' And anything else is a lie."
"But," he mumbled against her fingers and she took her hand away. "I didn't think I did. I didn't think it mattered."
"And there's most of the truth. This is getting too easy." Kate laughed. "The rest is simple. You're afraid."
"Of what?" He looked genuinely confused.
"That maybe they don't love you the same." There was sympathy in her tone.
Neal's eyes widened and he looked defensive. He looked down at the floor. "Maybe I need to be playing for keeps this time, and maybe I don't know how." He brought his eyes back to her face and was surprised by the smile he found there. "I don't know how to stop being the man I am to be be man I know they want me to be. I can't."
"What if the man they want is the man you are?" Kate put her hands on his cheeks. "Just keep your nose clean."
"Kate. You know me. What if I can't do that? What if-" He pulled away from her and took a step toward the scene still playing out, silently, beside them. "What if I screw this up?"
"Will you?" She put a hand between his shoulder blades.
“I don’t want to. But, Kate, I screw up everything.” He turned to face her, but she was gone. A long tunnel was laid before him and he turned back to where Peter and Elizabeth had been. The tunnel extended that way too. Darkness gave way to dim prickles of light as the lights were turned on with an echoing boom. Neal started forward, he recognized the gloominess immediately and his heart sank. This was his future?
~
Part One
Part Three