Christmas, the Krewe, and Kenneth Read online

  “Kenneth, these are good people! They aren’t going to let anyone hurt you. Please, Kenneth, I think you can hear me!”

  “Kenneth, my name is Angela. And this is Jackson with me. We just want to get you somewhere safe, with warmth, out of the snow. We want to help you!”

  There was no answer. Angela slipped through the wooden playground, finding the place behind the slide where the boy was hiding.

  He was staring straight ahead, banging his head softly against the wooden structure.

  “Kenneth,” she said very gently. “Let me help you.”

  “Mom. Mom. Dad,” he said. “Mom. Mom. Dad. Mom. Dad.”

  “Kenneth, it’s okay. Come on. Take my hand.”

  She was afraid he wouldn’t respond. But he blinked and noted her. And saw her hand.

  “Kenneth, I just want to help you.”

  He took her hand. And he looked at the ghost of Chief Petty Officer Hanson.

  “It’s okay,” Hanson assured him.

  The boy listened to the ghost. He managed a smile. He came out with Angela, a tall, beautiful boy, simply beset with a problem medical science had yet to solve.

  He walked with her calmly as they approached the police cars.

  The officers put away their guns.

  “We need child services,” Angela said.

  “We’ll get him cuffed and into one of the cars. He’s strong—he could hurt you,” he warned Angela.

  She kept Kenneth’s hand.

  “No but thank you.”

  “She’s fine; we’re together,” Jackson said, his voice ringing with authority.

  She thought the officer would argue; maybe he decided he didn’t need to be plagued with more problems that night.

  “All right, but there’s the possibility that—”

  “He didn’t kill his parents. They were out in their boat and it went down. We received an anonymous call,” she said.

  It was as close to the truth as she could get.

  “Well, we haven’t heard anything like that yet,” the officer said. “But—”

  “He’ll be in our custody, and any flack can come back on me,” Jackson said firmly.

  “I, well . . . okay. I’ll call it in,” the officer said.

  Kenneth stood there, his grip on Angela tight. She smiled at him and said softly, “It will be all right.”

  The officer called it in. Jackson wound up speaking with his superior, assuring him they would be responsible, and the boy would not be free on the streets.

  But in the end, they took Kenneth. And Sandy was gentle and kind, delighted to be with Hanson, Kenneth, and both dogs!

  Corby woke up at about six, right when a couple from child services arrived. Angela was grateful they were both as kind as could be, and gentle. And Corby was good with Kenneth.

  It turned out Kenneth was excellent at video games.

  And Kenneth seemed to love Sandy, and he seemed to understand that would come and see him. When she told him she was personally going to make sure he had a good home, one where she could visit, and where he would be loved, he seemed to understand that, too.

  The woman from child services explained that “autism” meant an incredibly big spectrum; poor Kenneth was at the far end.

  But he could love and be loved in return.

  In the end, it was about eight o’clock Christmas Eve morning, when Sandy went home to get more sleep. Angela and Jackson gave up the concept of sleep since Corby and the baby were up.

  And it was Christmas Eve. So, they watched movies, made cookies, started dinner, and opened presents.

  Jackson and Angela had promised they weren’t getting each other anything. And they had stuck to their promises. But Corby and the baby both loved tearing at the paper that covered their new toys and books.

  Sandy arrived with Arnold Hanson.

  They had talked all day.

  “I have an idea!” Sandy told them.

  “Oh?” Angela asked her.

  “Arnie wants to say goodbye to his wife. We can do a Zoom call!”

  “Okay,” Angela said carefully. “But is his wife going to think we’re horrible, making things up, making the loss worse?”

  “No,” Arnold Hanson said. “I think . . . I think she could sense me. I don’t know if she’ll see me, but . . . please?”

  Angela looked at Jackson. They were so careful as special agents. Only a miniscule percent of the population had the sixth sense that allowed them communication with the dead who remained for their various reasons.

  Jackson looked at her and said, “We’re going to do a Zoom church service. Right after, we’ll try a Zoom for our new friend.”

  And they did.

  Angela stumbled at first, along with Corby, Jackson and Sandy as they managed to get Martha Hanson to come on to their Zoom call—and then try to explain that . . .

  “Um, Mrs. Hanson . . .”

  She didn’t get any further.

  The woman on the other end of the Zoom call gasped and cried, “Arnie?”

  “I just want you to know how much I loved you, how you were everything to me, how wonderful you are—and that it’s okay, I’m okay . . . and—”

  “Arnie! I can see you,” Martha whispered. “And oh my God! Arnie, you’ve just . . . oh, my love! I miss you terribly. The world is a bit of a mess, and . . . you’ve still managed to make this an amazing Christmas for me.”

  It was an amazing Christmas so far—and a stunning one. Angela looked at Jackson. He shrugged and smiled.

  “Why don’t we let them chat, and we’ll start on dinner?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  They left the two talking.

  Later, they had dinner, with Hanson not eating of course, but joining them still. Both dogs hung around the table, and Kelly got treats.

  The baby cooed from her chair. Corby was fascinated by Arnie Hanson’s tales about the Navy.

  Dinner was wonderful and when it was time to end the evening, Chief Petty Officer Arnold Hanson walked Sandy home.

  But he came back to their house. Jackson had gone into the office to take a call. She had just put the baby into her crib.

  “I’d be going now. I mean into the beautiful life that awaits, but . . . well, I am going to wait for Martha. I will be there, and as we did so many things in life, we’ll walk into that light together. Strange, though. I always thought I was waiting just for her. But now I know. I stayed because sometimes we’re just supposed to do a kindness for someone else. And I thank you for helping me perform that kindness.”

  “Kenneth,” Angela said quietly.

  And as she spoke, Jackson came out of his office.

  He nodded to Hanson.

  “That was Jon, from our offices. They found the boat—the couple didn’t take care of it. The boat sank and they couldn’t swim. It’s a miracle the boy survived. The medical examiner said there wasn’t a mark on either of them. Kenneth didn’t hurt them. It was an accident. Jon told me Kenneth will be going to an extraordinary home for kids like him, and we can visit him, and Sandy can visit him, too. Sir, you truly performed a great kindness.” He grinned. “Not to mention, Corby may be convinced forever there really is a Santa Claus, and you came to give us all a special present—a new friend in Kenneth.”

  Hanson smiled. “Maybe I’ll sit by your fire for a while.”

  “Sir, you sit by our fire as long as you like,” Jackson told him.

  And he was there when they woke up on Christmas morning.

  He was sunk in a chair, and it looked as if he was sleeping, and yet sleeping with a smile.

  Jackson set an arm around Angela’s shoulders and said softly.

  “Strangest Christmas ever,” he murmured. “And yet . . .”

  “And yet, Christmas is about love and peace, and it seems that while different, we’ve discovered a lot of love and peace,” she said softly.

  He grinned at her. “And you remain the best Christmas present ever!” he told her. “In every way.”
r />   She grinned. “And you, too. Most of the time. Hm. Maybe always!”

  “We have mistletoe around here somewhere,” he said.

  But she smiled and stood on her toes and kissed his lips and murmured against them, “We don’t need mistletoe! Merry Christmas, my love.”

  No way around it—2020 had been a brutal year.

  But there was peace and love in the season. Hope was on the way.

  “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said softly in return.

  The world would always need help.

  And they would always do their small part to help.

  And have each other.

  “Merry Christmas!” Corby said, bursting out of his room.

  And they scooped him into their arms.

  Yes.

  They would do their best.

  And remember the message of the season.

  Hope.

  About The Author

  Heather Graham

  A MESSAGE FROM HEATHER

  Merry Christmas

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  Happy New Year