Chapter 40

    

     It was the second Friday in August when Clay Hastings picked up his mail at the camp office.  He was hot, tired, and hungry.  He’d spent most of the day trimming grass and weeds around the buildings.  He was still supporting a drug and alcohol habit with his paycheck, but through the sheer desire to be reunited with his boys, Clay was also managing to save a little money.  In a few weeks he wanted to head for Minnesota.  He’d talked to an old high school buddy the other night who was a foreman at a paper mill.  Dave said he could give Clay a job come September when his summer college help returned to school for the year.

 

     With his mail in hand Clay climbed the wooden stairs to his room.  Andrew lived in the other small apartment this loft contained, but he was in the locker room at the present time, taking a shower and getting cleaned up for dinner. 

 

     Hastings plopped to the mattress on the iron twin bed that had been donated by a member of one of the churches.  Clay’s apartment was nothing more than one fourteen foot by fourteen foot square room that held an old green sofa, the bed, a dresser, a small closet, and a thirteen inch black and white TV set that resided on a cast-off end table.   Andrew’s room was exactly like it, though instead of a sofa he had a brown easy chair with a matching ottoman that hadn’t sold at some minister’s garage sale.

 

     Using his right thumb Clay slit open the three envelopes that had been set-aside for him when Tess sorted that day’s mail.  The first envelope contained a bill for his truck insurance.  The second one held a religious tract from the First Church Of Heaven.  How someone there got his name Clay didn’t know, but he supposed Tess or Monica had given it out.  The man shook his head with disgust while tossing that envelope aside.  The third envelope was thick and bulky.  Clay recognized the return address as being that of his brother-in-law’s legal office.

 

     Hastings wasn’t sure what to expect when he unfolded the documents the envelope contained, but it sure wasn’t what he read. 

 

     Proposal of the termination of his parental rights.

 

     No further contact with his children. 

 

     The legal right for his children to change their last name. 

 

     What?  They can’t do this!  They can’t do this to me!  They can’t keep my kids from me!

 

     A thin sheet of paper fell from the rest and landed in Clay’s lap. With shaking hands he unfolded it.  He immediately recognized Sue’s neat print.

 

 

 

     Dear Clay,

 

        There is little point in beating around the bush, so I’ll come straight to the purpose of this letter and the enclosed documents.  You have had challenges keeping a steady job since you came home from Vietnam, and are over a year behind in the monthly support payments the judge designated when we separated.  You have also made no effort to stay in contact with Jeremy and Jason since the day you left this house.  Our divorce will be final on August 30th.  I have met a man who adores the boys, and who wants to be my husband and their father.  Ken and I also plan on having children of our own; therefore, it will be much easier for Jeremy and Jason if we can go forward as a family with all of us sharing the same last name.  The boys already think of Ken as their father, so a legal adoption of the boys on his part will be the final step.  I ask that you sign the document Allan enclosed that will legally terminate your parental rights.  This means you can never see the boys again, but that hardly appears to be an issue with you.  It also means you will no longer be obligated to assist with their upbringing, which in turn means you will not owe me a monthly check for their support.  Obviously, given the circumstances since your departure, this is the best arrangement for all concerned.  Please sign the enclosed document and return it to Allan using the stamped and addressed envelope he included.  You’ll be notified when the divorce is final.

 

        Sue

 

 

     Clay shook his head with disbelief.

 

     “No.  No, they can’t do this!  They can’t do this to me!”

 

     But the trouble was, Clay knew they could.  He didn’t have the money to fight them, and Sue was right, he hadn’t sent her a support check in over a year now, and he hadn’t seen the boys since she kicked him out of the house.  But that last part wasn’t his fault.  She wouldn’t have let him back in if he’d got down on his knees and begged.  And as far as the money went - well, times had gotten tough.  He’d done the best he could by the kids until it came to a point that there was nothing left from each paycheck to mail to Sue. 

 

     Clay grabbed the documents and scrambled down the stairs.  He raced for the empty office where he tore desk drawers apart until he found a phone book.  He scanned the yellow pages, then started dialing.  If Clay had to call every lawyer in the state of California until he found someone who could help him he would.  Sue wasn’t going to take his kids.  He’d die before he’d let that happen.  He’d put a gun to his head and end his own life before he’d live to see the day his children carried another man’s last name.

 

 

_________________________

 

     Monica and Tess stood in the shadows of the small building.  They observed through a window as Clay trashed the office.  The phone cord was yanked from the wall and the desk cleared of its papers, folders, tape dispenser, and stapler.   Chairs were overturned, and in a last fit of temper, the typewriter was whipped across the room. 

 

     The angels watched when Clay stormed out the door.  He stomped toward the parking lot, then his truck engine came to life.  Gravel spun beneath tires as the truck fishtailed onto the road.  Monica’s eyes tracked the old vehicle until it was out of sight.

    

     “Will Mr. Hastings make the right decision, Tess?”

 

     “I don’t know, Angel Girl.”

 

     “If he’d just open his heart to the children here he’d find what he’s so desperately seeking.”

 

     “Yes, if he’d open his heart he would.  But if he continues to allow hate to fill his soul, not to mention if he continues to cloud his mind with liquor and drugs, then Clayton Thomas Hastings is on a path to self-destruction.”

 

     “Tess, do you think Mr. Hastings can ever be the father Shen Bo needs?”

 

     “Well, Monica, it’s true that Clay is Shen Bo’s daddy, but whether he can be the man that little boy needs in his life I can’t say.  Only Clay can decide that, and by the looks of things in that office it’s my opinion that Mr. Hastings is not exactly

up for the Father of the Year Award.”

 

     “That’s true, but he’s seen such difficult times since coming home from Vietnam.”

    

     Tess smiled at the younger woman.  “You have such a soft heart, Angel Girl, and that’s just what I like about you.  Nonetheless, many men have come home from Vietnam and been good husbands to their wives and good daddy’s to their children.  The war doesn’t give Clay an excuse to fail at those things, only Clay himself does that.”

 

     “But God can help him turn his life around.  God can lead him to Shen Bo.  With our help, of course.”

 

     “Yes, God can do all those things.  But first Clay has to hear what God is saying to him.  However; until he makes the decision to stop the drinking and the drugs, Clay ain’t gonna listen to nothin’ talking but his own stupidity.  God has given him the power of reason, just like He’s given that to all humans.  It’s up to Clay to use that power to make the right choices, rather than to keep making the wrong ones.”

 

     Tess sighed while motioning with one hand.  “Come along, Angel Girl.  Looks like we got ourselves an office to clean up.”

 

 

Chapter 41

 

     The scream of the whistle pierced Johnny’s slumber.  He tossed restlessly on the mattress, flipping right and then left, right and then left, before settling on his back once again.  Perspiration beaded on his forehead and trickled down his temples in crooked paths.  The whistle sounded again.  Closer now.  Louder.  Powerful.  Terrifying.

 

     “Well, Johnny my man, if you be wantin’ my advice,” James stopped in mid-sentence.  “What the hell. . .”  He looked at the crumpled bus floor.  It was vibrating beneath his feet.  “What the hell is going on?”

 

     “It’s a train!” Rich screamed, his eyes wide as he stared out the shattered windows.  “A train is coming!”

 

     “Run!  Run!     Run, dammit!  Run!”

 

     As had happened for so many nights now when the train passed through Heaven, Johnny’s body shot from the mattress.

 

     “Run!  Run!”

 

     And as had happened for so many nights now as well, the paramedic shouted one final terror-filled “Ruuuuun!” before screaming himself awake. 

 

     Johnny sat in the dark gasping for breath, knowing exactly what would happen next.  Shen Bo climbed in bed with him.  He felt a small hand pat his back.

 

     “You okay now, Misser Honey.  Dream over.  You okay now.”

 

     Johnny slowly eased himself back to his pillow, Shen Bo moving with him.  Though the paramedic would never admit it out loud, least of all to Tess, John’s stay at this camp had done nothing but benefit him.  Physically he was much stronger and healthier than he had been when he arrived four weeks ago.  Emotionally and mentally - well, thanks to the children, and days filled with activities that kept Johnny’s mind off other worries, he was doing much better, too.  It was just that damn train coming through every morning at three a.m. that brought back unpleasant memories and prompted terrifying nightmares.  He rarely noticed the whistle during the day when trains passed by, but at night, when it was quiet and still, the sound of that lonely whistle blowing was a reminder to Johnny of the ten lives lost back in May.  It was as though the whistle was mourning the passing of James, and Rich, and Shannon, and the seven other young men who had died so tragically, while for some reason, John Gage was allowed to go on living.

 

     A quiet voice broke the night’s silence. 

 

     “Why you scared of train, Misser Honey?”

     Johnny’s answer was spoken softly as well, in deference to the eleven boys in the cabin who were still sleeping.

 

     “I’m not scared.”

 

     “You are.  Every night train come by, you have bad dream.  You scream.  It scare you.”

     So Shen Bo had tied the two occurrences together.  The train coming through and Johnny’s nightmares.  The paramedic couldn’t say he was surprised.  The boy was intelligent and perceptive both.  Not to mention that he’d seen more tragedy in his seven years on this earth than most people witnessed in a lifetime.

 

     “I. . .”  Johnny turned on his side so he was facing Shen Bo.  “Remember when you asked me how I hurt my leg?”

     “Yes.  You say you have accident.”

 

     “I did.  I mean, I was in an accident of sorts.”

 

     “What happen?”

    

     “I was helping some men. . .American soldiers, to get out of a bus that had been hit by a train.  Then a second train came along and hit the bus.  All the men. . .they died.  They were. . .they were killed by the impact of the second train slamming into the bus.  I. . .I tried to get them out, but I couldn’t.

I. . .I remember realizing another train was coming and telling them to run.”  Johnny had no conscious knowledge of the fact that the way he was relaying the events of that day were exactly how he’d relay them to Roy if he ever chose to talk about this subject with his best friend.  The paramedic also had no conscious knowledge that this telling of that horrid day was actually a part of the healing process he needed to go through.  “I told them to run and I pushed them toward a hole in the floor.  Or at least I think I did.  Maybe I pushed them toward the back door.  I can’t really remember.  I’m not even sure now if the back door still opened.  But at that time it didn’t matter.  I was just trying to get them out.  Only. . .only I couldn’t.  Not even one of them, let alone all ten.  They. . .they died.  They died and I lived.  I. . .I was hurt.  I was hurt pretty bad.  Dixie. . .she was with me for a long time until the guys. . .my friends from the fire department, were able to get me out.  If it wasn’t for Dix. . .well, if it wasn’t for her I probably would have died, too.”

 

     “She make you better?”

 

     Johnny looked into the dark eyes that held both curiosity and sympathy.   

 

     “She gave me medical care that allowed me to live until I got to the hospital.  And just by Dixie being there with me it made a big difference.”

 

     “Dickie help you not be scared?”

     “Yes.  Yes, that was a large part of it, Shen Bo.  Dixie staying by my side helped take some of my fear away.”

 

     “Dickie good friend to Misser Honey.”

    

     “She sure is.”

 

     “Shen Bo glad you forgive Dickie and not be angry at her anymore.”

 

     “I’m glad I forgave her, too.”

 

     The boy rubbed a comforting hand up and down Johnny’s forearm while his brows knit together in thought.  When he finally spoke, Shen Bo offered his assumption of what was really troubling John Gage.

 

     “Misser Honey, you have bad dreams not ‘cause train whistle scare you, but ‘cause you feel bad American soldiers die.  You think you fault soldiers die.  You think you should die with soldiers.  Shen Bo feel same way long time after Mother die.  Shen Bo think his fault Mother die.”

 

     “But you were just a little boy, kiddo.  Only four years old and--”

 

     “No matter.  Little boy or big boy.  Feelings inside same.  Hurts you heart no matter if you young or old.  But things no stay bad forever, Misser Honey.  Look at Shen Bo.  I get come to America where I get lots good food and lots clothes.  Even shoes.  I no have shoes in Vietnam.   I eat ice cream in America. I go to fair, and fire ‘partment, and zoo, and pretty soon I go live with my father.  I will be good son and Father love me very much.  I will always miss Mother, but it be okay.  I will be happy with Father.  Mother be proud of me ‘cause I will do all she teach me.  Did you do all you were teached when you in bus with American soldiers?”

 

     “If by that you mean did I put all my skills as a paramedic to use - yes, Shen Bo, I did.”

 

     “Then that good.  You do right thing, Misser Honey.  Shen Bo see lots people die in Vietnam.  Sometimes good people die and bad people live.  Sometimes bad people die and good people live. Sometimes both die.  Mother always say to Shen Bo, be good and do you best.  You good man, Misser Honey, and you do you best.  You have to feel that inside you heart.  When you do, bad dreams stop.  Ask Shen Bo.  He know.”

 

     The child’s philosophy seemed so simple on the surface, yet once Johnny took the time to examine it, he had to admit there was an abundance of truth to Shen Bo’s words.  Not that those words produced instant healing - far from it.   But maybe, just maybe, they were a place to start.

 

     Johnny smiled down at the sleeping boy.  He ran a light hand over Shen Bo’s hair. 

 

     “Thanks, Shen Bo,” the paramedic whispered.  “You’re a good friend to Mr. Honey.  A very good friend.”

 

 

Chapter 42

 

     Clay Hastings slunk from the locker room on Saturday morning. He headed for his home above the maintenance shed, staying in the shadows of the buildings as he swayed on shaky legs.  He was to drive a busload of the kids into town today for some kind of shindig the First Church of Heaven was holding.  A picnic and ice cream social maybe?  A carnival of some sort?  A festival to celebrate something or another?   Clay couldn’t remember.  He’d been pretty wasted the night before when Tess came to the bottom of the stairs that led to his loft apartment. She didn’t intrude on his private space, but rather shouted instructions from below.  He was to be in the parking lot at ten a.m. sharp, and he was to be clean.  Showered, shaved, and wearing a fresh uniform. Clay didn’t argue with her.  For one thing, he was too high to be able to voice coherent thoughts.  For another, he didn’t give a shit about anything any longer.  He mumbled a, “Yes, Ma’am,” then listened until he heard Tess walk away.  After that, he swallowed more booze and more pills, hoping the combination would take the pain away.

 

     Clay hadn’t been able to find a lawyer that would help him fight Sue unless he came up with a thousand bucks.  And that was just to start.  All the attorneys Clay talked to told him it would cost several thousand dollars in legal fees before the matter was resolved.  And even at that, there was no guarantee Clay could keep Sue from severing his parental rights.  A thousand bucks. Clay only had one hundred and fifty saved.  That was a long way from a thousand.  And even more so now since he’d spent that one hundred and fifty last night on alcohol, drugs, and one other item. 

 

     When the attorneys had proven to be no help Clay contacted the Department Of Veteran’s Affairs.  The woman he talked to practically laughed at him over the phone.  She told Clay she wasn’t sure how he thought Veteran’s Affairs could help him, and advised him to see a lawyer.  She’d been rude and patronizing, and Clay told her to go to hell before slamming the phone down.  He was so enraged he’d torn apart the camp’s office then.  He had fought for this country.  He’d done two tours of duty in Vietnam when only one was required of him.  He’d volunteered for the second tour even though he missed his wife and little boys like crazy.  But the signing bonus had been good, and the additional money from his promotion to sergeant another plus.  Clay had a young family at home to support.  He did what he thought was the right thing for himself, his family, and his country, and naively assumed that someday, if he needed a favor in return, his country would be there for him.  But now he understood what it was all about.  You hump the boonies for twenty-six months, and if you’re lucky enough to survive you get sent you home with a pat on the back and a “Thanks, soldier,”  and then American washes its hands of her fighting man.  Clay was going to lose his children and no one cared.  His name was going to be taken from Jason and Jeremy.  Soon they’d have a new life, and as the years went by, have no memory of their old one, or of the father who loved them so much. 

 

     Clay trudged up the stairs to the loft.  There was so little left worth living for.  He’d even bought a gun last night from the guy who supplied him with the drugs.  Murphy - Clay’s supplier, didn’t ask what he intended to use the gun for and Clay didn’t offer.  He supposed Murph didn’t care.  It was just money to him.  Hell, Clay wasn’t even sure what he planned to use the gun for.  Maybe he’d kill himself.  Maybe he’d take some people with him.  Maybe he’d simply turn around and sell it to someone else and make a few bucks in profit.

 

     The man fell to his couch.  Ten o’clock was an hour away yet.  That was just enough time to sail off on a good high.  Though he was normally careful about avoiding booze and drugs when he was driving for fear Tess would detect something odd about his behavior, Clay didn’t have to worry about it today.  He knew she’d be riding the bus Andrew was driving.  Besides, he had plenty of breath mints and Visine.  Those things might not hide the effects of his habits, but they did, somewhat, hide the symptoms.

 

     Clay popped a handful of pills and washed them down by taking a long swig from a bottle of Jack.  He picked up Sue’s letter and read it again.  By now he had it memorized.  Clay cried when he came to the part where Sue said she’d met another man who was going to be her husband and the boys’ father.  He tried to stop his tears before they crescendoed to gut-wrenching sobs, but he couldn’t. 

     Hastings groped for the gun that was hidden under the sofa.  He laid it in his lap, swallowed another handful of pills, and chased them down with whiskey. All the while Clay sobbed for the loss of his wife, the loss of his children, and the way his country had forgotten him.

 

 

Chapter 43

    

     The entire camp was bustling with activity that Saturday morning.  Half of the children were made to assist in the kitchen after breakfast where picnic baskets were being packed, while the rest of them loaded the buses with baseball bats, baseballs, mitts, and anything else they wanted to take to the First Church of Heaven.  The church was holding a picnic in honor of the Vietnamese orphans.  The other churches that helped support A Little Bit Of Heaven campground would have members of their congregations at the picnic as well.  There would be sack races, three legged races, wheel-barrow races, and water balloon fights, along with plenty of food.  Dixie had been told it was likely the entire town would be present.  Ice cream and strawberry shortcake were the featured desserts, along with anything else the church ladies brought to add to the sweet table. 

 

     As usual, Johnny had seen to it that Dixie’s girls and his boys would ride together on one bus.  Dixie lagged behind the kids as they charged for the vehicle.  Little things, like this simple picnic, made them so happy.  Since arriving at the camp Dixie had come to realize how much most Americans took for granted.  The freedom to hold a picnic for one thing.  The freedom to hold it without worrying about a grenade landing in your lap while you ate another.

 

     The nurse carried a wicker picnic basket by the handles.  Johnny would be following with the second basket as soon as the kitchen staff handed it to him.  While the children boarded the bus through the hinged side door, Dixie popped the handle on the rear exit so she could place the basket on the floor behind the left back seat.  She and Johnny had agreed they’d leave the two rear seats empty and use them for the picnic baskets and baseball equipment. The children already had the seats piled high with the latter mentioned paraphernalia.

 

     Excited jabbering swelled from the bus as the kids talked about the day’s event.  They were eager to get going and join their friends at the church.  The other two buses had just pulled out of the parking lot.  Andrew was driving one of them, and a male counselor was driving the other.  The children didn’t pay any attention to Dixie as she lifted the basket up to the bus’s floor and pushed it to the left.  She shut the door but didn’t latch it, knowing Johnny would be coming along in a minute with the remaining basket.  When she stepped back and into a lean body, she assumed the paramedic had arrived.

 

     “You’re here already?  There’s room to put your basket on top of the one I brought.  The kids did a pretty good job of packing things in a halfway organized manner. Here, let me--”

 

     Dixie gasped when two hands grabbed her breasts and squeezed.  She was spun around so quickly she stumbled over her tennis shoes. 

 

     “You’re a very beautiful woman, you know that?  I thought so since the day you showed up.”

 

     The nurse struggled to free herself from the leering man.  “Let me go!”

 

     “And if I don’t?”

     “Let me go now.”

 

     “But what if I don’t wanna let you go?”  One of Clay’s hands slid from Dixie’s breasts to the waistband of her jeans, while the other held her against his body.

 

     Before the situation could escalate two hands slammed against Clay’s shoulders.  Like Dixie had been, the man was spun around.  A fist slammed into his jaw, its force throwing Clay into the bus.  Before a second fist could land in the man’s mid-section Dixie cried, “Johnny, that’s enough!  Leave him alone!”

 

     “Dix--”

    

     “Johnny, the kids.  Please.  That’s enough.”

 

     Johnny looked up to see a mass of faces pressed against the windows.  The children stared with open mouths at the violence they’d just witnessed.  Little Shen Bo had squeezed through the crowd and had his face smashed against the rear door, attentively watching every move the paramedic made.   

     John looked from the kids to Dixie. 

     “Please, Johnny,” the nurse requested one last time.  “Please.”

 

     Johnny shook his head as he took a step back.  Hastings pushed himself to his feet and scrambled for the front of the bus. 

 

     “Dixie, you can’t let him get away with this.  Aside from what he just did to you, this camp is filled with other women and little girls.  Who knows what the guy will pull next.”

 

     “I don’t intend to let him get away with it.  But for now. . .well, let’s just get on the bus.  The kids are ready to go.  I don’t want to disappoint them by causing a delay.”

 

     “A delay?  Dix, that guy might have raped you if I hadn’t come along when I did.”

 

     “I realize that.  And as soon as we get to the church I’ll pull Tess aside and talk to her.  I’m sure she can point me in the direction of the local sheriff.  I’ll file a report on Hastings.”

 

     “I’m gonna tell Tess to fire him, too.  He’s got no business being around these kids.”

 

     “I agree. But for now let’s get on the bus.  He’s not going to hurt anyone with you on board, and whenever we go on a trip he just stays on the bus and sleeps anyway, so I doubt he’ll hightail it before I get a chance to tell Tess what happened.”

 

     “He won’t be hightailing it anywhere, because I don’t plan on taking my eyes off him until this is settled.”

 

     “Fair enough,” Dixie agreed.  “Now come on.  Let’s get going.”

 

     Johnny picked up the picnic basket he’d dropped when he punched Hastings.  The top was latched, so none of the contents spilled. He opened the rear door and told the kids to move back to their seats, then put the basket on top of the one Dixie had previously loaded. 

 

     “You let Misser Hastings have it, Misser Honey.”

 

     “Yeah, Shen Bo, I did.  Now go sit down.”

 

     “Why he wanna hurt, Dickie?”

 

     “It was just a mistake on his part, Bo.  Now go sit down.  Dixie and I will be on the bus in a second.”

 

     The boy did Johnny’s bidding as the paramedic shut and latched the emergency exit.  As John turned to grasp Dixie’s elbow and guide her to the side door, she rose to her tip-toes and kissed his cheek.

     “Thank you.”

 

     Johnny smiled at the nurse. “No need for thanks.  For one thing, I owe you more than a few favors.  For another, there isn’t anyone who’s gonna hurt you when I’m around.”

 

     Despite what had just happened to her, Dixie basked in the man’s words.  They spoke more about his deep sense of love and friendship for her than he’d ever revealed before.

 

     Johnny walked behind Dixie as they climbed the bus steps.  He glared at Hastings as he passed, but the look was lost on the man.  Clay averted his face and stared out the side window.  His nostrils were flared and his breath came in short, angry pants, but neither Johnny nor Dixie noticed.  The final insult of the day was being rejected by that old broad.  Well, no woman was ever going to reject Clay Hastings again.  He’d see to that.

 

     Dixie sat with two of her little girls in the empty seat directly ahead of the picnic baskets.  Johnny sat with Shen Bo three seats behind Hastings.

 

     The bus wasn’t out of the parking lot before the kids started singing.  Dixie joined in, but Johnny remained quiet and observant.  He let his guard down a bit after they’d traveled two miles without incident.  He half turned in his seat to watch as the kids performed all the motions to one of their favorite songs, The Wheels On The Bus.  He even laughed when they added a new verse while shaking their index fingers as though they were scolding someone.

 

     “Dickie say Misser Honey behave youself!  Behave youself!  Behave youself! Dixie say Misser Honey behave youself, all around the town.”

 

     When Johnny felt the bus stop he assumed they’d arrived at the church.  It wasn’t until he started to stand that John realized they were still a mile out of Heaven.  The bus’s engine had been shut off, and it was now sitting on the middle of the train tracks.  Hastings was out of his seat and blocking the front exit.  Johnny’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gun in the man’s right hand.

 

     Hastings stared at the paramedic. “Sit down!”

 

     “Look--”

 

     The gun was pointed at Johnny’s head.   “I said sit down!”

 

     “All right, all right.  I’m sitting.”

 

     “That’s better.”

 

     The children shrank back with terror.  Some screamed, some cried, while others were too frightened to make a sound.  Shen Bo leaned into Johnny while staring at the wild-eyed man who was holding his passengers hostage.

 

     “You got a bus load of twenty-four scared kids here,” Johnny said.  “What do you want?”

    

     Hastings threw his head back and laughed.  “What do I want?  I want my wife.  I want my kids.  I want these kids to shut up!  I want them to go away.  Every time I look at them all I see is what I lost!  It’s because of them I’ll never see my twins again!”

 

     Johnny didn’t bother to ask the man what these children had to do with not seeing his own kids again.  All he cared about right now was ending the situation before Hastings started shooting.

 

     “I’m sorry about that.  About your children.  But I can get you help.”

    

     “Help?  How can you get me help?”

 

     “I’m a paramedic.  I know people who can help you.”

 

     “Unless you know a good lawyer who works for free, you can’t help me, Mr. Paramedic.”

 

     “I know a lot of people.  I might be able to find a lawyer for you.”

 

     “Might don’t cut it, pal.  I don’t have time for might.  She’s gonna take my kids away from me.  They’re gonna take away my parental rights.  Do you know what that means?”  Clay’s voice had risen with each word until he was shouting, “Do you?  Huh, do you?”

 

     “Yes, I do,” Johnny said quietly while Dixie attempted to calm the children sitting near her.  “And I’m sorry.  I really am.  But hurting these children won’t change what’s happening to you.”

 

     “Yes it will!  It’ll make a statement.”

 

     “What kind of a statement?”

 

     “It’ll let them know they shouldn’t screw with a vet!  They shouldn’t give the shaft to someone who served his country!  It’s too late to help me, but maybe I can help someone else.”

 

     “Maybe.  But don’t you think--”

 

     Johnny stopped speaking when he heard it.  A train whistle. 

 

     Oh shit.  Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.  Not again.  I’m not going to let this happen again.

 

     The kids heard the whistle, too.  They started to whimper and grow restless in their seats.

 

     “Let us off this bus, man.”

     “No.”

 

     “Come on, man!  The train’s coming.  Let us off!”

 

     “You think I give a shit?  It’ll be easier than shootin’ all of you. Besides, I don’t have enough bullets for everyone.”

 

     The whistle sounded again.  Closer this time.  Johnny started to stand.

    

     “Let us off.”

 

     “Sit down!”

    

     “I said, let us off!”

 

     “And I said sit down!”

 

     The best thing that could have happened then did.  The children panicked.  Six boys sitting in the first two seats charged for the front door.  Before Hastings had time to aim his gun Johnny launched from his seat.  He tackled the man around the waist and drove him into the steering wheel.  The paramedic grabbed the handle that opened the hinged door.  He threw it backwards, shouting at the kids, “Run!  Get off!  Run!  Run!”

 

     Hastings bucked against the paramedic.  As the two men grappled for possession of the gun Johnny screamed, “Dixie, get these kids off of here!  Hurry!  Get them off!”

 

     The train whistle sounded again as Dixie popped the latch on the emergency exit.  She jumped to the ground, kids scrambling behind her like ants fleeing for their hill.  She stretched her arms up to lift the smaller children down and to help those using crutches.  She shooed them all toward a distant grassy clearing on the side of the road.

 

     “Go!  Run!  Get as far away from here as you can!  Run!”

 

     The kids helped one another. They clasped hands and fled to where Dixie indicated.   More children poured from the front of the bus.  Dixie pointed and screamed, “Run!  Follow the others!  Hurry!  Hurry!”

 

     Dixie looked up when she heard the piercing whistle.  She couldn’t see the train yet, but she knew it was only a matter of seconds before it arrived.  The bus was empty now save for Johnny, Clay Hastings, and Shen Bo.  The boy was in the middle of the men, trying to help the paramedic.

 

     “Shen Bo, come on!”  Dixie cried.  “Come here!  Hurry!”

 

     Dixie didn’t know if the boy couldn’t hear her, or was simply refusing to follow her orders.  She watched as Hastings flung Johnny to a seat.  Just as the butt of the gun was about to crash against the paramedic’s skull Johnny slid his body sideways.  The gun butt missed, hitting nothing but empty seat.

 

     Johnny used all the strength he had left to arch upward.  Hastings toppled into the dashboard.  Johnny pounced on him with Shen Bo caught in the middle.  The train was coming around the bend when the gun exploded.  For a few long seconds Dixie couldn’t tell who had been shot.  Then she saw Johnny grab a limp Clay Hastings around the chest while swooping Shen Bo up with the other arm.  The paramedic dragged the man and boy out the front door.  Dixie had no choice then but to race for the clearing she’d directed the children to.  The train was so close she could feel the vibration of the road. 

 

     Johnny saw the children gathered five hundred yards away, and saw Dixie sprinting toward them.  He knew he’d never make it that far with his burdens.  He cleared the bus by a mere thirty feet, threw Hastings to the ground, then fell to the ground himself with Shen Bo still tucked beneath his right arm.  Johnny laid on top of the boy and injured man, shielding them with his body as the train roared by.  Johnny heard the enormous crash when the train hit the bus. He was pelted with broken glass as debris shot in all directions. Sparks flew from the train’s wheels as the brakeman fought to bring the massive locomotive to a halt. 

 

     When the train finally stopped Johnny looked up.  What was left of the light blue school bus was far down the tracks, smashed onto the nose of the engine.  It was an all-too-familiar sight to the paramedic, and one he’d hoped never to see again.  He slowly climbed off the man and boy he’d been protecting.  Hastings was unconscious, a red stain spreading across the front of his shirt where he’d been shot when the gun had gone off during the struggle.  Shen Bo was pale and sobbing with fright.  Johnny picked him up to offer comfort.  The boy immediately wrapped his arms around the paramedic’s neck and buried his face in the man’s shirt collar. 

 

     Johnny looked down the road at Dixie.  He knew she had to be feeling as weak and drained as he was, but she nodded her head and shouted, “They’re okay.  Everyone is okay!  They all got off the bus.”

 

     Johnny hid his face in Shen Bo’s hair.  “Thank God,” he murmured. “Thank you, God.”

 

     John could hear the distant wailing of sirens that indicated help was on its way.  He gently deposited Shen Bo on his feet.  Johnny knelt beside Clay Hastings then and began giving what first aid he could for the abdominal gunshot wound.  Within seconds Johnny was joined by Dixie.  Together,  the two friends worked to save the life of the man who had been intent on taking theirs.

 

 

 

Chapter 44

 

     The collision between the train and the bus was the talk in Heaven for the next week.  Everyone said it was a miracle that all the children escaped the bus safely, not to mention the nurse, the paramedic, and the crazy man with the gun.

 

     Clay Hastings underwent three hours of surgery the day of the accident.  He survived the gunshot wound and was now under arrest at a hospital fifty miles from Heaven.  Based on what Tess told Dixie and Johnny, the man didn’t seem to care whether he lived or died.  He’d already entered a guilty plea through his court-appointed attorney for twenty-six counts of attempted manslaughter.  He’d likely spend the rest of his life in prison, or be a very old man before he was released.

 

     Two days after the incident on the bus Tess asked Johnny to come to her office.  He left his boys playing kick ball with Dixie and her girls, then followed Tess to the little clapboard building.  When they reached the inner office, Tess shut the door and indicated for the paramedic to take a seat across from the old metal desk.  She sat down behind the desk.

 

     “I just want you to know that today might be a difficult one for Shen Bo.”

 

     “Why?”

 

     “Because I’m going to talk to him in a few minutes.”

 

     “About what?”

     “About the fact that we’ve found a family for him.”

 

     Johnny grinned. “That’s great!  You found his father then?  The man’s going to take him?”

 

     “Yes, we found his father, but no, the man won’t be taking Shen Bo.”

 

     “Why not?”

 

     “John, Clay Hastings is Shen Bo’s father.”

 

     “What?”

 

     “It’s true.  Mr. Hastings had an affair with a woman by the name of Lang Tran in Vietnam.  Lang was Shen Bo’s mother.”

    

     “You’re sure about this?  That Hastings is Shen Bo’s dad?”

 

     “Very sure.”

 

     Johnny raked a hand through his hair.  “Oh, man.”

 

     “I’d say that about sums it up.  You know how much Shen Bo had his heart set on going to live with his father.  Well, obviously now that will never happen.”

 

     “What was the guy’s problem?”

 

     “Hastings?”

     “Yeah.”

 

     “Many things were his ‘problem’ as you put it.  Drug and alcohol abuse being two of the big ones.  Two big problems he brought home with him from Vietnam.  After some time passed his wife, Sue, grew tired of a husband who couldn’t hold a job.  She grew tired of being sympathetic toward a man who refused to get the help he needed.  She grew tired of hanging onto three jobs to make ends meet, while Clay couldn’t hang onto one. She grew tired of being both mother and father to their twin boys, Jason and Jeremy, because Clay was too drunk or too high to be any kind of a daddy, let alone a good one.  Sue finally made him leave their home two years ago, when the boys were six.  Recently, she filed for divorce.  We discovered that, just one day before the bus accident, Mr. Hastings received a letter from his soon-to-be ex-wife stating she was terminating his parental rights.   Clay didn’t take the news well.”

 

     “Obviously,” Johnny intoned dryly while thinking of the near tragedy that had occurred because of that bad news Clay Hastings had been given.  Yet, he had to admit, he felt sorry for the guy, too.  “So, Shen Bo has two half brothers.”

 

     “Yes, he does. But whether he’ll ever get to meet them or not remains to be seen.  Maybe, when he’s a grown man, that will be something Shen Bo, Jason, and Jeremy will agree to.  Right now, it’s likely best if such a meeting doesn’t take place.”

 

     Johnny nodded his head in agreement.

 

     “I’m happy to say I have some good news, too.  Or at least I hope Shen Bo will find it to be good news.”

 

     Based on what Tess had said earlier, Johnny guessed, “You found a family who would like to adopt him.”

 

     “Yes, I have.  I’ve spent quite some time searching for the right family for Shen Bo.  I can’t explain how exactly, but I just knew Shen Bo’s real daddy wasn’t going to provide a home for that sweet child.”

 

     The woman handed a letter across the desk.  John reached out and took it.

 

      “Go ahead,” Tess urged.  “Read it.”

 

    

     Silently, Johnny read the letter he held in his hands.

 

 

     Dear Tess,

 

         Thank you for the information you sent my husband and me. The picture of Shen Bo is precious.  He looks like the happy, well-adjusted child you described.  My husband, Gary, is a firefighter/paramedic with the Boise fire department.  I worked as a nurse until we had our children.  Our oldest daughter, Nicole, is three.  Our younger daughter, Melissa, just celebrated her first birthday.  Tragically, we lost our son, Brian, two years ago. He was five when he was killed in a car accident while returning from a fishing trip with Gary’s father.  A void has been left in our lives since the passing of our son.  We are well aware no other child can replace Brian, but we have talked for a long time now of adding a little boy to the family.  Gary and I agreed that the best way to do this is by offering a loving home to a child in need.  We have already spoken to an attorney about adopting Shen Bo.  I realize that, as per your requirements, Shen Bo must live with us for six months before adoption proceedings can start.  I pray every night that Gary and I are the parents God has chosen for Shen Bo.  Please let me know when we can arrive at A Little Bit Of Heaven in order to meet Shen Bo and bring him home with us.

 

     Sincerely,

     Doreen Taylor

 

 

     Johnny looked up when he finished reading the letter.  “They sound like they can provide a good home for Shen Bo.”

 

     “They can.”

 

     “And you’ve checked them out?”

 

     “Yes, we have.  Quite thoroughly as a matter of fact.”

 

     “So he’ll be happy with them?  He’ll have a good life there?  They’ll treat him right?”

 

     Tess chuckled at Johnny’s protectiveness of the child.  “As far as we can tell, yes, John, Shen Bo will be happy living with the Taylors.  If he’s not, then he’ll go into foster care until another family can be found for him.”

 

     “I just. . .I need to know this is right for him.”

    

     “As much as any of us can know that, I believe it is.”  Tess stood.  “Now I must talk to Shen Bo about his father and the Taylors.”

    

     “Let me.”

    

     “Pardon?”

 

     “I think he’ll take it better coming from me.  The news about his dad that is.”  Johnny looked back down at the letter.  “It’s going to be a lot for him to absorb.”

 

     “Yes, it is.  Are you sure you want to be the one who tells him?”

 

     “I’m sure.”  Johnny stood and squared his shoulders.  “Shen Bo has been there for me every step of the way since I arrived here.  It’s odd, I guess, that a seven year old kid can have that much loyalty to an adult he doesn’t really know, but he does.”

 

     “Shen Bo sees in you what you can’t see about yourself.”

 

     “What’s that?”

     “That you deserve his loyalty.  And his faith.  That you’ve never let anyone down in your life, despite what you might think deep inside.”

 

     Johnny’s broke eye contact with the woman.  “Yeah. . .yeah, well. . .I guess I better go talk to Shen Bo.”

 

     The paramedic left the office.  Tess watched him walk toward the field where the children were playing.  Johnny called Shen Bo to come out of the kick ball game.  He bent down and said something to the boy, then took him by the hand and led him to their cabin.  When the pair disappeared inside the little structure, Tess looked up and offered a silent prayer for guidance on behalf of John Gage.

 

 

Chapter 45

 

     Johnny broke the news to Shen Bo about Clay Hastings as gently as he could.  Nonetheless; the boy now sat on Johnny’s bed weeping with his head buried in the paramedic’s chest.  The seven year old had such a strong sense of right and wrong that he couldn’t fathom why his father would try to hurt other people.

 

     “But why Father want to hurt kids, Misser Honey?”

     Johnny rocked back and forth with the child in his arms.  Quietly he replied, “I don’t know, Shen Bo.  He. . .things weren’t right in his mind.  He was sick.”

 

     “But why Father want hurt you, Misser Honey?”

     “I don’t know that either, kiddo.  Sometimes. . .well, sometimes people just snap.  Life doesn’t go right for them and they don’t know how to deal with that.  Sometimes that makes someone. . .like your father, do things he normally wouldn’t.”

     “So what happen to Father now?”

 

     “He’ll spend some time in the hospital recovering from his injury, then he’ll go to prison.”

    

     “And Shen Bo never see him ever?”

 

     “I don’t know.  I doubt it.”

 

     “That mean no?”

     “Yes.  That’s what it means.”

 

     Shen Bo started crying harder.  “Shen Bo have no one now.  No mother, no grandmother, no grandfather, and never see Father.  Shen Bo all alone.”

 

     Johnny ran a hand over the boy’s head.  “No you’re not, Bo. You’ve got me, and Dixie, and Tess, and Monica, and Andrew, and all the other counselors and kids in the camp.”

 

     “But no same as family.  Shen Bo want family.”

 

     “Well, maybe that can be arranged.”

 

     Shen Bo pulled his head from Johnny’s chest.  “How?”

     “Tess gave me a letter a little while ago.  It’s from a woman in Idaho.  She and her husband want you to come stay with them for a while.  If you like it in their home, then eventually they’ll adopt you.”

 

     “Really?”

 

     “Really.  Would you like me to read the letter to you?”

    

     “Yes.”

 

     Shen Bo swiped at his tears while Johnny took the letter from his shirt pocket and read it to the boy.  When he finished Shen Bo was smiling.

 

     “He a fireman just like you, Misser Honey.”

 

     “He sure is.”

 

     “And she a nurse just like Dickie.”

 

     “Yes, she is.”

 

     “And sister.  I have two sister if I go live in Id’ho.  Where Id’ho?  Is it far away?”

 

     “It’s some distance from here.  Several hundred miles.”

 

     “You been there?”

 

     “A few times.  When I lived in Montana - the state I grew up in, we visited Idaho once in a while.  The fishing’s great there.”

 

     “I like?”

     “Yes, I think you’ll like it.  It’s a beautiful place.”

 

     “You think new family like Shen Bo?  Want Shen Bo stay?”

 

     “If they don’t, they’re crazy.”

 

     “That mean yes?”

 

     Johnny smiled.  “That means yes.”

 

     The boy threw his arms around the paramedic. “But I miss you, Misser Honey.  I miss you lots and lots.”

 

     “And I’ll miss you, too, but I really want you to do this, Bo.  I want you to give the Taylors a try.  I think you’ll be happy living with them.  I think they’ll give you the type of home, and family life, you deserve.”

 

     “Then I go.  If you say Shen Bo should go, then Shen Bo go.”

 

     “I say you should go.”

 

     And with that it was settled.  As Tess said, Shen Bo had great faith in John Gage.  He believed with all his heart Johnny wouldn’t let him down.  Johnny hoped that, with time, he’d be proven right.

    

Chapter 46

 

     Three days later a royal blue Plymouth Fury pulled into the campground’s parking lot.  Shen Bo watched from behind Johnny’s legs as a broad shouldered, sandy haired man got out of the car.  He walked around to the other side of the vehicle and assisted his wife in retrieving two little girls from the back seat.  The woman carried the strawberry blond baby, while the man carried a tow headed toddler.  Shen Bo was both excited and nervous.  Within five minutes; however, Gary and Doreen Taylor had put him at ease.  Gary reminded Johnny of Roy in more ways than just his hair color and build.  He was an easy-going, soft-spoken man.  The type Johnny imagined rarely raised his voice at a child.  The few times Johnny had witnessed Roy having to discipline Chris or Jennifer it was always done quietly in a corner of the room.  You could tell Roy was being stern, and that the kids knew his word was law, but Johnny had always admired the way his partner could get his point across to his children without yelling. 

 

     Doreen had a finely honed sense of humor and was quick to laugh.  Johnny doubted she ever stopped smiling.  She seemed patient with children, and had no problem giving attention to both her young daughters at the same time if they demanded it.  Baby Melissa was sweet, as most children that age are, while Nicole was an active little girl who just wanted someone to play with.  As far as she was concerned, Shen Bo fit that requirement.

 

     The Taylors stayed in the camp three hours.  Shen Bo showed them everything from the lake, to the baseball diamond, to the cabin he slept in.  Gary and Doreen met with Tess privately for thirty minutes, then had lunch with all the campers.  After dessert was finished it was time for the Taylors to leave.  Gary crouched down and asked Shen Bo if he wanted to leave with them and make their house in Idaho his new home.

 

     The seven year old looked up at Johnny.  The man smiled and said, “It’s your decision, Bo, you know that.  But like I told you the other day, I’d really like you to give it a try.” 

 

     Shen Bo thought a moment, then nodded. “I go.”  He looked at Gary.  “You a fireman like Misser Honey.  I like fireman.”

 

     Gary chuckled.  “I’m glad to hear that.  From what Tess tells me, Johnny has taken very good care of you. I’d be honored to now have that care transferred to me and my wife.”

 

     Johnny helped Shen Bo pack his things that afternoon in an old suitcase he’d brought from Vietnam.  The boy didn’t have much, just the clothes he’d been given from the church donation boxes, a couple storybooks, and two Matchbox cars.  The books and toys also came from a donation box.

 

     Shen Bo and Johnny walked together to the Plymouth where the Taylors, Tess, Monica, Andrew, and Dixie were waiting.  Gary took Shen Bo’s suitcase and put it in the trunk.  Shen Bo made his rounds then, saying goodbye to the people who had grown to mean so much to him.  When he hugged Dixie he said, “Take care Misser Honey for me, Dickie.”

 

     “I will, sweetie.”

 

     “Be his friend always.”

    

     “Don’t you worry about that.  I will be.”

 

     The last good-bye was the hardest.  Shen Bo couldn’t stop his tears as he hugged Johnny.  He squeezed the man’s neck.  “I miss you so much, Misser Honey.  You good man.  Shen Bo love you.”

 

     “I love you too, Bo.  You be a good boy for the Taylors.”

 

     “You come see Shen Bo?”

     “Someday I just might do that.  But even if I don’t ever make it to Idaho, that doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about you and wishing you the best of everything.”

 

     “I think of you, too, Misser Honey. All time I think of you and wish you best.”

 

     It was hard for Johnny to pry the boy loose, but it was time for Shen Bo to transfer his affection to his new family.  He sat in the front seat between Gary and Doreen.   As Gary backed the car out of its parking space, Shen Bo waved to all those he was leaving behind. By now the entire camp had arrived to see him off, as was the tradition each time a child was placed in a new home. 

 

     Johnny didn’t know who waved harder, himself or Shen Bo.  The boy was crying and smiling both at the same time as Gary steered the Fury onto the road.

But then, much to his chagrin, John Gage discovered he was crying and smiling, too.

 

______________________________________

    

     Everyone stood another minute, waving to a car they could no longer see.  Slowly, adults and children alike, turned to walk back to camp.  Dixie laced an arm through Johnny’s.

 

     “You should be very proud of yourself, Mr. Honey.”

 

     “Why?”

 

     “You meant a great deal to that little boy.  You were everything he needed while he was here, and then some.”

 

     Johnny shrugged.  “In some ways, Dix, I think I needed Shen Bo far more than he needed me.”

 

     “And you’d be right about that, too, Mr. Gage.”

 

     As one, Johnny and Dixie turned at the sound of the voice behind them.  They squinted until their eyes adjusted to the glowing light.

 

     “What the--”

 

     “Why are you--”

 

     “It’s not ‘what’ or ‘why,’ Mr. Gage.  Mizz McCall.  It’s who,” Tess said. “I’m an angel sent by God.”

 

     “A what?”

 

     “You heard me, John.  An angel.”

 

     Johnny’s eyes traveled to Monica and Andrew.  The same soft gold light was surrounding them as well.

 

     “You and Mizz McCall have been our assignment since before the train hit that bus carrying those Marines.”

 

     “Your assignment?”  Dixie questioned.

     “Sometimes God’s children need help findin’ their way back to the right path, Mizz McCall. You sat alone in your living room crying for so many weeks, mourning the passing of young soldiers you encountered more than twenty years ago now.”  Tess’s eyes moved to Johnny.  “And you, John, - you sat in your living room trying to shut out the world while blaming yourself for deaths you didn’t cause.  God wanted the two of you to find peace and reconciliation within yourselves.  When you couldn’t do that, God had us intervene.”

 

     “You mean you brought us here?”  Johnny asked incredulously.  “You somehow brainwashed us into coming here?”

 

     Tess laughed.  “No, baby.  We angels ain’t into brainwashing.  You came on your own accord.  Made your own decisions in that regard.  We just. . .helped you along a bit.”

 

     “Like how?”

     “Oh, a well placed map left in a guest room.  Friends not at home when you tried to call to get a ride back to Los Angeles.   A Land Rover that wasn’t repaired as quickly as it could have been.  Things like that. We angels have a lot of tricks up our sleeves.”

    

     “And you expect us to believe this?”  Johnny asked with open skepticism.  “That you’re angels?” 

 

     “How else do explain the fact that we’re standing here glowin,’ Mr. I’m-So Smart-Paramedic?”

 

     “I. . .I. . .well, it’s a trick.  It’s pretty obvious it’s a trick.”

 

     “Oh, it is now, is it?  John Roderick Gage, are you stubborn out of sheer orneriness, or just because you like being a complete fool?”

 

     Dixie felt the man stumble a bit in her grasp.

 

     “What did you say?”

     “You heard me.  That was something Kim said to you, did she not?  Many a’ time she said it to you, baby.  Well, don’t be ornery and quit being a fool.  And most of all, quit blaming yourself for something you didn’t cause.  You’re good at what you do, John Gage.  One of the best, as Mizz McCall will tell you.  Don’t throw away the talents God has seen fit to bestow on you because you couldn’t save young men God called home to Heaven. And by Heaven, I don’t mean that little town down the road. I mean God’s house. You had no control over what happened on that bus.  You might think you were in charge, but you weren’t.  God was.  Just like God was in charge last Saturday when all those children got off a bus safely.  It’s not our place to question the wisdom of the Lord, John. It’s only our place to do his bidding.”

 

     Tess turned to Dixie next.  “And you, Mizz McCall, you are neither forgotten nor unappreciated.  Why Rampart’s emergency room can barely function without you.  You should see the mess you’re returnin’ to, baby.  It’ll take you a month to straighten it out.  And Doctor Bracket. . .is he crabby without his favorite head nurse there.  He’s threatening to send out a search party to find you and drag you back.  You were a nurse in Korea.  Always be proud of that.  But don’t ever, for one minute, think people have forgotten those who sacrificed their lives over there.  Yes, people get too wrapped up in lookin’ ahead instead of taking a few moments every now and then to look behind, but it’s human nature and you can’t do much to change that.  You can; however, remember those young men in your own way. Just because there’s not parades, and speeches, and memorial wreaths, doesn’t mean their sacrifice was for naught.”

 

     Tess’s gentle smile took in both the nurse and paramedic.  “And now, it’s time for the two of you to leave Heaven.  Your lives are not here, but rather are in Los Angeles.”

 

     “So does that mean my Rover’s fixed?”

 

     “That’s what it means.”

 

     “I’m still not sure I believe any of this.”

 

     “Well, baby, God’s used to people denying Heaven.  It’s been happening since he populated this earth.  Whether you believe it or not matters little, John.  What matters is how you choose to go forward.”

 

     “How I choose to go forward?”

 

     “Don’t keep the pain locked inside.  That’s one thing you and Mizz McCall have in common.  You both keep far too many hurts locked deep inside your souls.  You can’t heal if you don’t let your friends help you.  Remember that.  I told you once that there ain’t no secrets in Heaven, John.  Well, there ain’t.  Sooner or later they all come out.”

 

     Johnny ignored the woman’s pointed look.  For some reason he had a feeling she was making an indirect reference to Kim and Jessie.  If she was trying to tell John he needed to talk about his dead wife and child with someone. . .with Roy, or Dixie, or his other friends in L.A., she might as well save her breath.  That wasn’t going to happen.   At least not now.  Unbeknownst to Johnny, it would happen. But it would be three years yet before Roy heard the heartbreaking story in a little graveyard in White Rock, Montana.

 

     Before Johnny could answer the woman the angels were gone.  He stared hard at the spot they’d been standing in, then turned circles searching for them.  

 

     “Where’d they go?”

 

     Dixie gave a slow shake of her head.  “I. . .I don’t know.”

 

     Johnny scanned the area again, the looked down at the nurse. “Do you believe all that?”

     “Let’s put it this way, I don’t have any other explanation for what just occurred other than the one Tess gave us.  Not to mention the fact that she always seemed to know things she shouldn’t have knowledge of.”        

     “Yeah.  I noticed that.  On more than one occasion as a matter of fact.”

 

     “So, what do you think?”

     “I’m not sure.  I. . .I’m just not sure.”

 

     “Tess said you’re ornery and stubborn. She’s right about both those things, you know.  And by the way, who’s Kim?”

     Johnny ignored Dixie’s teasing, and her question.  When he spoke again he asked,  “Dix, the things Tess said.  About you sitting alone in your living room and crying because of the war?  Were they true?”

 

     “Yes, Johnny, they were true.  I really went through a rough time this spring and early summer because of. . .troubling memories.  A very rough time.”

    

     “And did you tell anyone about it?  Doctor Brackett, or Doctor Early, or anyone at all?”

     “No.  I didn’t tell a soul.”

 

     “Then there’s no logical way Tess could have known.”

 

     “No,” Dixie shook her head.  “There isn’t.”

 

     “That’s pretty weird, huh?”

     “I’d say it’s more like divine intervention.”

 

     “I’d say a lot of stuff lately might be chalked up to divine intervention,” Johnny finally admitted as he thought of how he, Dixie, Clay Hastings, and twenty-four children had narrowly escaped death.  “And you know what else I think?”

    

     “No.  What?”

     “I think Tess is right.  I think it’s time for us to get outta Heaven.”

 

     Johnny put an arm around the woman and walked her toward

the cabins. Neither Johnny nor Dixie saw Monica, Andrew, or Tess again.  Within an hour they were packed and had said goodbye to everyone at the campground.  Where the three angels had gone Johnny never knew.  Maybe someone else needed them now and they’d been reassigned, as insane as that sounded.

 

     Dixie drove Johnny to the Only Heaven Can Help You garage where his Land Rover sat repaired and ready to go.  He paid Gil using a credit card while Dixie made good on her promise to fill her tank with gas before leaving town.

 

     Ten minutes later Dixie pulled onto Main Street with Johnny following her.  They both glanced in their rearview mirrors on a frequent basis until the little town finally faded from view.  A sense of inner peace settled over Dixie and Johnny like neither had felt in a long time now.  As strange as it would sound to anyone who might ask, the pair knew that peace came as a result of their visit to Heaven.

      

 

Chapter 47

 

Memorial Day, 1976

 

          

     Dixie McCall stood in her kitchen putting the finishing touches on a casserole dish of scalloped potatoes.  She was hosting a picnic today in an effort to kick off summer with her closest friends.  Kelly Brackett and Joe Early were coming, as were three nurses from Rampart, their husbands, and children.  She’d also invited Roy and his family, and of course, Johnny. 

 

     In the nine months since she and Johnny had returned from Heaven several good things had come about.  Dixie had gained the weight back she’d lost the previous year, and the depression that had plagued her was a thing of the past.  She tried to remember her service in Korea now with nothing other than pride.  That didn’t mean she still wasn’t saddened by the loss of so many young lives, but she’d come to understand that Tess was right.  God had been in control of such things, not a

twenty-year old nurse.

 

     Kelly Brackett had been astounded by the robust health he’d discovered Johnny to be in when the paramedic arrived for his September check up.  When he came out of his office Brackett shook his head while looking at Dixie.

 

     “Whatever activities Johnny participated in at that camp you were telling me about did him a world of good.  Physically he’s in great shape.  And emotionally. . .well, he’s the ‘old’ Johnny again.”

 

     Dixie had simply smiled and agreed, “Yes, he is the old Johnny again, isn’t he?” 

 

     The nurse never told Brackett all the details about the camp. She’d certainly never mentioned anything regarding angels.   Brackett would have thought she’d flipped out and made an appointment for her with the staff psychiatrist.  So instead, Dixie simply told the doctor, and anyone else who asked, that Rampart’s former housekeeping employee Tess, and former student chaplain, Monica, assisted in running a camp that housed Vietnamese orphans waiting to be adopted.  Dixie claimed to those who made inquires of her that Tess had mentioned the camp on several occasions, and that both she and Johnny decided to volunteer time there.  Dixie knew Johnny had given Roy a similar story when Roy asked John how he ended up spending five weeks in a one-horse town called Heaven.

 

     Doctor Brackett had released Johnny to return to work on October first. To what degree the deaths of those ten Marines still affected Johnny no one really knew.  He never said anything about them, but Dixie realized that didn’t mean he still wasn’t burdened by their passing.  Johnny had told Dixie he hadn’t experienced another nightmare regarding the Marines since the day they’d gotten all the children safely off the camp bus.  And, she knew it was an enormous relief to him when, in October, the lawsuit brought against him and the fire department by the Marines’ parents was mysteriously dropped.   A little divine intervention on the part of some angels perhaps?  Or maybe just parents coming to their senses where the accident was concerned?  Regarding that, Dixie didn’t know, nor did she care.  She was just happy Johnny was relieved of this final albatross that he shouldn’t have been forced to bear in the first place.

 

     The last bit of good news came in November when Dixie spotted a small article in the paper about a campground called A Little Bit Of Heaven.  The article quoted a woman named Tess as saying that she was pleased to announce all the Vietnamese orphans had been placed in permanent homes.  Dixie clipped the article and gave it to Johnny the next time she saw him at Rampart.  He smiled as he read it, then said quietly, “I’m glad for those kids, Dix.  Really glad.”

 

     “I know you are,” Dixie had acknowledged that day.  “I’m glad for them, too.”

    

     Now, as Dixie was putting her potatoes in the oven, she thought back to how she’d spent the hour just after dawn.  She’d walked to the cemetery five blocks from her home, and while the sun began to rise, placed small American flags on the graves of the veterans buried there.  It was a small gesture, Dixie supposed, but nonetheless was her way of honoring the men who had lost their lives in defense of their country.  It was a gesture she’d never been able to bring herself to do in the past, but one she planned to repeat for many years to come.

 

     A knock on the front door broke the quiet within the pretty bungalow.

 

     “Dix!  It’s me!”

 

     “Come on in, Johnny!  It’s open!’

 

     The paramedic had promised to arrive thirty minutes ahead of the other guests so he could help Dixie set up the volleyball net and start the grill.  He teased her about this last fact as he entered the kitchen dressed in cut-off blue jean shorts and a gray LA County Fire Department T-shirt.

 

     “So, lady, did I hear you need a fireman to light your fire?”

 

     Dixie rolled her eyes.  “Don’t you wish, hose jockey.  Actually, I called a friend to start my grill.”

 

     “Well, that’s not as much fun as what I had planned, but if it’s the only offer I’m gonna get out of you then I guess it’ll have to do.”

 

     “It’s the only offer you’re going to get.”

 

     “That’s what I figured.”  Johnny tossed the woman a teasing grin, then pulled an envelope out of his back pocket.  “Listen, I have something I’d like to read to you before the others get here.”

    

     Dixie watched as Johnny took a piece of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it.

 

     “What’s that?”

     “A letter from Shen Bo.”

     Dixie smiled with delight.  “Really?  This is the first time you’ve heard from him since the day he left the camp, isn’t it?”

     “It sure is.”  

 

     Johnny glanced down at the paper and started to read.  It was obvious just by the tone of the letter that a year of school in Idaho had improved the boy’s grammar.

 

     “Dear Mr. Honey,

 

     “I have a new name now.  I am Shen Bo Taylor. I tell the kids at school to call me Bo Taylor.  I like that.  It makes me sound like American boy, and makes me think of you.

 

     “I am very happy living with my mom and dad.  I love them lots, and they love me.  They say I’m very good boy and good son.  My sisters are Nicole and Missy.  I good big brother.  I am teaching my sisters many things.  We have fun all the time.  Mom and Dad say they are very proud of how I watch out for my sisters and take care of them. 

 

     “I go to fire department many times where Dad works and see fire engines.  I think of you when I’m there.  I have a horse, too.  Dad is teaching me to ride.  We also have two dogs and five cats.  They all live outside in the barn.  Dad says we live on a small ranch, but it seems very big to me.  I have my own bedroom.  I don’t have to share it with any other boys.  It’s nice, but sometimes I still miss the boys who were my friends at camp.

     “I wish you lived in Idaho.  Please come visit me.  Mom and Dad said you could.  You can stay at our house.  We have a bedroom no one ever sleeps in that is for company. 

 

     “I had my birthday in March. I am eight now.  I got lots of presents.  I am very lucky boy.

 

     “Please write to me.  I will write you back as soon as I get your letter.  I miss you, Mr. Honey.

 

     “Your friend forever,

 

     “Bo Taylor

 

     “P.S.  Have you married Dickie yet?” 

 

     Dixie laughed as Johnny read that last line.  She watched as he carefully folded the letter, placed it back in the envelope, and returned it to the rear pocket of his shorts.

    

     “Are you going to write him back?”

 

     “Sure am.”

 

     “Tell him I said hi.”

 

     “I’ll make sure I do that, Dickie.”

 

     “Oh no.”

 

     “Oh no, what?”  Johnny grinned.

 

     “If that name comes out at this picnic today, you’ll be very sorry, Mr. Honey.  Do you get my drift?”

     “I get your drift, Dix.  Don’t worry, I get your drift.”

 

     “Good.  Because there’s some things about our trip to Heaven that are just between us, right?”

     Johnny thought of the amusing nicknames bestowed on him and Dixie by one little boy who spoke broken English, the odd series of coincidences that got them to that campground in the first place, and most of all, the angels.  He nodded as he pulled the nurse into a firm embrace.

 

     “Right, Dixie.  As a matter of fact, there’s a lot of things about Heaven that are just between us.”

 

     “But we’ll never forget them, will we?”

 

     Whether Dixie meant angels, or children, or fallen soldiers, or a small town in the middle of nowhere, Johnny wasn’t sure.  He supposed she meant all of those things and then some.

 

     The paramedic shook his head as he continued to hold his friend.

 

     “No, Dix.  We won’t forget.”  Johnny placed a chaste kiss on top of the woman’s head.  “We’ll never forget.  And I have a feeling we’ll be all the better for it because we don’t.”

 

     Johnny broke their embrace then and grabbed Dixie by the hand. 

 

     “Come on.  Let’s get that grill going before Roy shows up and tries to tell me how to start a fire.”

 

     Dixie chuckled as she followed Johnny out the door.  When the screen slammed closed, the angels standing in the corner smiled at one another.

 

     “Well, Angel Girl, I’d say this little ‘nine-month check-up,’ speaks of vast accomplishments.  Looks like our job here is definitely finished.”

 

     “Yes, Tess, that appears to be the case.  I’m glad Dixie doesn’t sit alone and cry anymore, and I’m glad Johnny doesn’t drink beer and sit on railroad tracks. My, but that would be a dangerous habit to get into.”

 

     “It sure would be.  But no, John doesn’t pull such foolish stunts these days, so we’re no longer needed here.”

 

     “Now in theory, Tess, I know that’s good.  But I must admit to being a wee bit disappointed.”

    

     “Disappointed?  Why in the world would you be disappointed? We’ve had great success with this assignment.”

 

     “I know.  But I never did get to ride on a fire truck.  Or wear rubber galoshes. Or pull out an inch and a half.  Or cook chili for the guys at that station.”

 

     “Fire trucks!  Rubber galoshes! An inch and a half!  Chili!  Git on with you. Git I say!  Let’s go.   Now you’re talkin’ just plain foolishness, you are.  You’re an angel, not a fireman.  Of all the crazy things I’ve heard, and believe me, I’ve heard plenty of ‘em in my three centuries as an angel, this is just about the craziest notion that--”

 

     The angels slowly faded away.  As Dixie walked back in the house to get a book of matches for Johnny she swore she caught the sound of playful arguing.  She stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor, cocked her head and listened. Now it was gone.  But that didn’t mean Dixie doubted her hearing.  After all, the nurse had a feeling both she and Johnny would always have angels looking over their shoulders.

 

     It was a comforting thought, and definitely another thing that was best not forgotten.

 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Thanks to Pat, Peggy, and Doctor Marybeth Lambe, all of who answered medical questions throughout various stages of this production.  Thank you to Debbie for your beta reading skills, keen eyes, and feedback, and thanks to Peggy and Doctor Katherine Lehman, for the medical beta reads. Thanks once again to Terri, my answer woman regarding all things California, and thanks to another California E! fan who answered questions related to advancement of rank within the fire department.

 

 

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