The Carol

By: David H
(© 2011 by the author)
Editor: Ken King

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1: The Messenger
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Evan Sanders, an attorney with one of the largest firms in the Birmingham, Alabama area, finished up a case he’d been working on for months at the end of November 2010.  Rather than taking the rest of the year off as many of his colleagues in the same situation were planning to do, Evan agreed to take a case that he knew could be closed by the end of the year. 

A local real estate company, Mason-Brown Properties LLC, had acquired several properties earlier in the year, and one of them was a twenty-unit apartment complex in Center Point, one of the city’s eastern neighborhoods.  In an analysis of the property, they’d discovered their interests would be better served by demolishing the five buildings in the complex and replacing them with office buildings that would, in a relatively short period of time, turn a handsome profit.

The problem with their plan, however, was that most of the units were occupied.  To get the residents out, they made a series of generous offers, and while most agreed, there were still a handful of people that would not consent.  By the middle of August, the company had become frustrated with the process and decided to exercise their right in the various tenant leases to cancel them at any time.  They sent the remaining tenants a letter giving them sixty days to vacate the property.  On the sixty-first day, 1 October, they visited the property only to discover that no one had left.  With that, they filed notices of eviction with the local courts, and deputies of the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office were dispatched to deliver the notices at the beginning of the next week. 

The residents responded by contracting an attorney through their local legal aid office, and after a series of motions were filed, the Honorable George Rhondo, a judge with the Jefferson County Circuit Court, issued an injunction staying the evictions for thirty days.  His hope was that the company and residents could resolve the issue without much court involvement.  The company subsequently made a final offer, and when the residents refused, a court date was set. 

The company fired its regular attorney and contracted with Evan’s firm for one reason:  Evan was a closer.  He was a ruthless attorney who would stop only at the edge of the law to win his cases.  He had been known to make people cry on the stand, and more people than anyone could count had recanted their testimonies in open court when faced with his cutthroat style examination.  His reputation among the local legal community was such that seasoned veterans avoided dealing with him like the plague; unseasoned newbies who had that fresh-from-law-school gall were quickly put in their places, and several people left the practice of law altogether because of dealings with Evan over the course of his eight years as a practicing attorney.

He received the entire case file on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and by the beginning of the following week he’d formulated his game plan.  On the day before the trial that would decide the company’s culpability was to begin, he filed a motion to dismiss the case, and before the process of jury selection could commence, Evan spent a day presenting evidence that the company had acted within not only its rights but within the precise confines of the law.  As much as it pained him to do so, Judge Rhondo agreed with Evan, and on the morning of the 16th, the judge was forced to dismiss the case. 

On the morning of the 17th, Evan prepared amended eviction orders.  Whereas the first one gave people thirty days to be out, the new one reduced that to fourteen days from the date of the delivery of the order, the minimum time allowed under Alabama law.  The papers were filed with the court on the morning of the 20th, and on Christmas Eve, at around 10 o’clock, deputies delivered the amended notices to residents.  Knowing that his work was iron clad and that he could use his connections with the Sheriff's office to expedite the evictions, Evan told the property company to prepare to have locksmiths and movers there on Friday, 7 January, to change the locks and put the residents’ belongings on public property.

By noon, his immediate superior had delivered his annual bonus, an amount equal to 25% of what he’d made the firm that year, and by one o’clock, many of the firm’s staff had already left to celebrate the holiday with family and friends.  However, Evan continued to work, and at three, there was a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he answered coldly, not taking his eyes off the computer screen.

“Hi, Evan,” Bobby Cramer said as he came into the office and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the huge oak desk that Evan kept meticulously organized.

“Bobby...  What can I do for you?” Evan asked, as politely as he could manage.

“Um… I’m not gonna be able to go home for Christmas this year, and I… I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place for Christmas dinner tomorrow night or something.”

Evan stopped what he was doing, but he didn’t turn to look at the wide-eyed young attorney that sat across the desk from him.  “I have no use for holidays, Bobby, especially this one.  More often than not, people waste too much time, energy, and money on their celebrations that are little more than glorifications of their own success.”

“So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“Correct,” Evan told him.  “Was there anything else?”

“No.  If you change your mind, though…”

“I won’t,” Evan assured him.  “Now, if there’s nothing else…”

“There’s not,” Bobby answered, the rejection he deeply felt coming through his tone.  Evan could hear it as well, but honestly, he didn’t care.

Within a little while, the building was empty except for Evan, and at seven, when his stomach began to murmur a bit, he decided it was time to go home for the night.  He quickly packed his things, and after making his way to his car in the basement parking lot, he left for home.  He drove up Interstate 59 through the eastern neighborhoods of the city and past Trussville.  He crossed into St. Clair County, and at the Springville exit, he climbed off.  He turned right, as if he were headed to Odenville, but after a couple of miles, he turned down a rather secluded, paved, private drive.  He drove through the relatively undisturbed woods until he came to a small house, his house.  He pulled his car into the basement, and after parking the car and hitting the button to close the garage door, Evan climbed from the vehicle.

He walked up a set of stairs and entered the main living area of the house.  After setting his things on the sofa, he went into the laundry room to change into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt, and once Evan was physically more comfortable, he sauntered into the kitchen to fix a microwave dinner.  When it was ready, he set it onto a Corningware plate, grabbed a fork, and headed back downstairs to his den.

The room was small, about 10’ by 10’.  Mounted on the wall opposite the door, there was an 80” flat screen HDTV that he’d been given as a bonus for something he’d done earlier in the year, and below it was a low entertainment center with a satellite receiver box and a DVD player.  Along the same wall as the door was a recliner with a small table right beside it. There was fluorescent lighting in the ceiling and soundproofing along all the walls, the ceiling, and the floor.  The room was also outfitted with a special ventilation/exhaust system that included a carbon filter.

He sat in the chair and moved an arm to raise the footrest.  As the food cooled slightly, Evan flipped through the hundreds of channels he had and eventually found something that wasn’t related to the holiday.  As he watched lions pounce on zebras on the National Geographic channel, he ate his previously frozen turkey dinner in the peace and quiet of his private space.

Along another wall was a doorway which led into a small workroom.  When Evan finished eating, he went into the workroom area to throw his trash away and set the plate temporarily on the counter.  He grabbed a soda from the fridge, and from a small cabinet he took a heavy, glass bong along with bag of weed he’d grown in another part of the basement and separated himself.  After putting fresh water in the bottom of the bong, Evan returned to the living room and began preparing for his evening spiritual trip to the clouds.

After packing the bowl nicely, he lit it and consumed the first hit.  Then a second. Then a third.  By the time it was gone, he was well on his way to the heavens.  Evan’s eyelids became heavier and heavier, and the only thing that mattered was the moment.  He stayed there for a while, enjoying the high, but when he realized he was going to sleep, he climbed from the chair, turned everything off, and made his way upstairs to the master suite.  He took a piss, brushed his teeth, and filled a small glass with water.

Evan walked back into the bedroom and placed the glass on the small table beside his bed.  He pulled back the covers and climbed in between the sheets.  He slept on the left side of the bed, on his right side, and as he rested his head on the pillow, he looked at the table and noticed a small red box sitting there.  Literally seconds before, when he set the glass down, it hadn’t been there.  Uncovering himself, Evan sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the box.  It was dark red, velvety with a red ribbon and a bow on top.  A little tag hanging from the bow said “Ábrame,” Spanish for “open me”.

He did, and there was nothing in there except a soft black lining.  He put his finger inside and felt nothing, but when he turned it upside down and shook it over the floor, a single drop of a silvery gray substance fell from the box.  It rested there for a second, and as Evan moved to inspect it, it began to roll away from him.  In the middle of the room, the little droplet began to expand, and after a moment, it popped like a bubble.  Inside, a gas that was a lighter shade of gray began to grow.  It rolled out like a storm cloud until it was infinitesimally larger than it had been at the beginning.  Parts of the mist began to swirl clockwise; other parts began to swirl counterclockwise.  It began to coalesce into a figure, and as the seconds passed, it became a figure that he recognized.

It was the only person he’d ever cared about more than himself:  Jarrod Mitchell.  He and Jarrod met in college and then went to law school together, graduating in 2002 with JDs from The University of Mississippi.  They moved to Birmingham, took the bar exam, and joined separate firms.  Then they bought their house together and stayed there comfortably for a year or so until Jarrod was killed.  He’d been to Atlanta to get Evan’s Christmas gift on Christmas Eve, and as he drove back on a country road just a few miles from the house, a man veered into Jarrod’s lane, hit his car head on, and rendered him lifeless by the time police and paramedics arrived.

Evan spent months fighting with Jarrod’s family over the ownership of the house, over bank accounts that he’d willed to Evan, even over personal items that his mother insisted on removing from the house within hours of his death.  At the funeral, which Evan had to pay for but his mother got to plan, Mrs. Mitchell went a step too far and said something about Evan while within earshot.  Incensed, he told her to leave; when she wouldn’t, Evan revealed to other members of the family secrets that Jarrod had entrusted him with in the event something like that were to happen.  Evan even asked her, in front of Mr. Mitchell, if he knew that he wasn’t Jarrod’s father.  (It was but one of the many lies she’d perpetrated over the years.)  Mrs. Mitchell sued him, and Evan filed a countersuit.  In the end, Evan won, and she was taken to the cleaners, literally.  Jarrod’s family owned a chain of dry cleaners that were signed to Evan as part of the settlement.  Evan also got their house, which he rented back to the Mitchells for twice the market value. He subsequently evicted them six months later when they failed to make a single payment on time.  The grief, the anger, the pain of it all quickly turned Evan into the bitter man that he now was.

In the present moment, Evan was shocked.  He was scared.  He didn’t know what was going on or what to do.  As he looked at the figure before him and the figure looked back at him, he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I have to stop smoking so much,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” the figure responded.  Its voice was exactly the same as Evan remembered Jarrod’s to be.  It was deep, confident, manly.

Evan closed his eyes, pressing the lids together.  “This is just a hallucination.  I am fine; the high is wearing off; when I open my eyes, the image will be gone,” he said aloud, squeezing his eyelids even more tightly together for a few seconds.  However, when Evan opened his eyes, it was still there.  “Oh, no!” he exclaimed, reaching over and quickly downing his bedside glass of water.  The room was lit only by a small light in the bathroom, but it was enough for him, with the glass in hand, to run to the bathroom for more water.

In tears, he refilled it several times.  He splashed some on his face, and after a moment, he looked into the window to find that the whites of his eyes were no longer pink, and the edges of his eyelids were no longer red.

“Are you ready to admit that this is not a hallucination?” the voice startled Evan, forcing him to turn and look at whatever this was standing in his doorway.  The eyes were perfect; the hair was perfect, but he was wearing an outfit that, in life, Jarrod Mitchell wouldn’t have been caught dead in: an old suit whose jacket didn’t go all the way to the bottom of his wrists, a white shirt that had started to yellow around the edges, and a Santa Claus tie.  He had a black belt with brown shoes, and there was a little bit of scruff on his face. 

“Who are you?  And why are you here?” he asked.

“In life, I was Jarrod Wesley Mitchell.  And I’ve come here to… tell you a few things,” he answered calmly.  Jarrod had always had a calming effect on him, a force that Evan had been missing for some time.  “But before you’ll listen to anything I have to say, you’ll want me to prove that I am who I am, and anything I say will be scrutinized, even though you’re high.”  He took two steps closer and reached out his right arm.  “Give me your hand... Gorgeous.”

Reluctantly, Evan lifted his left arm.  Jarrod took it and lifted Evan’s hand to his mouth.  He gently kissed it.  The simple kiss was electric and sent shivers over his body. Hearing Jarrod call him by his favorite pet name caused Evan to once more feel the depths of a love that had long been absent from his life. 

Evan began to cry uncontrollably.  “Why are you here?” he said as his vision blurred and tears flowed down his cheeks.

“To save you,” Jarrod answered.

“From what?”

“Yourself,” he responded.  “I know you noticed what I was wearing, didn’t you?”  Evan nodded.  “Well, because of the way I was in life—concerned with image, with how people saw me, physically—I have been destined to wear rags for the rest of time.  My spirit travels the world, trapped in these clothes.”  He looked into Evan’s eyes.  While still holding Evan’s left hand with his right, Jarrod reached up and wiped tears from his face.  “Gorgeous, if some things in your life don’t change, the price you pay after life will be even greater than mine, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.”  Evan couldn’t look at him without bursting into tears that he’d not cried when Jarrod died, so Jarrod took his face in both hands and forced Evan’s face toward his.  “Even in death, you’re my favorite person of all time.”

“What needs to change?  How do I do this?”

“Tonight, you’ll be visited by three spirits.  Go with them; learn from them; grow from what they have to teach you.  Do this,” the apparition pleaded, “so that you don’t have to go through what I’ve been through.  Promise me you will.”

“I will,” Evan swore to him as he noticed the emotionally charged reaction.  “When will they come?”

“Tonight is all I know.  I’ve just been sent to tell you that they’d be coming.”

“Okay…” Evan responded.  “Will you stay with me until the first one arrives?”

“Yeah,” Jarrod said as he took Evan’s hand once more and pulled him from the bathroom.  “Would you mind if we cuddled for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Evan answered as he took his side of the bed and Jarrod walked around to climb into what had once been his.

The two talked about old times for what seemed like forever until Evan at last drifted off to sleep.  Despite being a spirit, Jarrod started to cry as, over the next few minutes, he and the only person he’d ever cared about more than himself were once again separated from each other.  He slowly returned to a mist that flowed from the bed to a nearby window, but until the very last possible second, he held onto Evan, protecting him physically for as long as he could.

Chapter 2: The Ghost of Christmas Past
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For what seemed like an eternity, Evan slept peacefully, knowing that Jarrod was in bed with him.  It was the best rest he’d had in ages, but at one point, he felt like he had to pee.  When he was awake enough, he realized that he was there, alone.  While Evan was happy that he’d been able to see Jarrod once again, another part of him was sorrowful that he’d had to leave.

Throwing the covers from his body, Evan shuffled into the bathroom, yawning, and took care of his business.  While he stood there, he heard something coming from his living room.  It sounded like music.

When he finished, he put everything back into his boxers, and after grabbing Jarrod’s baseball bat which he kept beside the bed for protection, Evan stealthily walked down the hallway toward the living room.  The music got louder and louder as he crept toward its source, and when he reached the living room, Evan saw a crowd of people dancing to a remix of “Jingle Bells.”

Without anyone noticing, he made his way to the stereo and turned the music off.  Suddenly, all the people there stopped and turned to look at him.  “I’m feeling generous tonight, and because of that, I’m going to give you all exactly one minute to get out of my house before I call the police.”  The people laughed at him, and in a moment the music started again all by itself and the people continued dancing.

When the song came to an end, a set of hands emerged above the crowd from its center, and in a finger snap, all but one of the people that were in the room disappeared.  The figure before Evan was average height with dark hair.  He had pale white skin covering a youthful-looking, skinny body clad in tight black jeans and sneakers.

“You really should loosen up,” the figure told him.  “People are gonna start thinking there’s something up your ass… and not in a good way!” he joked.

“So, I’m assuming you’re the first spirit,” Evan mentioned as he held the bat on his right shoulder.

“All business…” he shook his head.  “It’s such a shame, too.”  Walking over to Evan, he held out his hand, as a lady from a bygone era might have done.  “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past!”

“Charmed,” Evan said, not taking his hand.

“Well...  I can see that I’ve got my work cut out for me,” he smiled.  “And since you’re all about getting things started, let’s go.”

“To where?”

“The past, of course,” the spirit said, extending his hand again, with his palm up.  “Just take my hand, and we’ll be off.”

*** *** ***

Remembering what Jarrod had said about growing and trusting the spirits, Evan reached out his hand and took the hand before him.  In a moment, they were transported to a place Evan immediately recognized.  It was the living room of his paternal grandparents’ house in Hoover, decorated as it had been when he was a child.  There was a nice rug covering a hardwood floor.  In the middle of the rug was a long, wooden coffee table.  On its ends, there were straight chairs, and on one side was a long sofa.  Opposite the table and sofa was a fireplace in which his grandfather had started a roaring blaze to warm the room.  To one end, next to his grandmother’s piano was a huge Christmas tree with white and gold ornaments on it and carefully wrapped gifts under it.

There were also two piles of gifts, one for him and one for his cousin.  The story was that Santa Claus had brought them there instead of to their own houses.  His cousin who was a couple of years older got a bike that year, and Evan got a Smurfs record player and several records.  From the sounds of things, his grandmother was in the kitchen working on the massive family dinner, while his grandfather was nowhere to be found.

In a second, his grandfather came down the hallway in black pants and a white shirt with tie covered by a gaudy Christmas sweater that Evan’s grandmother had gotten from somewhere.  “Grandpa!” Evan called out instinctively.

“He can’t hear you… or see you…” the spirit pointed out.  “We’re just here as observers.”

“Oh…” Evan lamented for a second.

“So, were you and your grandfather close?”

“We were,” Evan answered.  “I used to insist that my parents bring me over here as much as possible just so I could hang out with Grandpa.”

In a second, the front door of the house flung open and in the entryway stood a diminutive figure dressed in a small suit, a heavy winter coat, and an orange toboggan. 

“Grandpa!” the younger version of Evan called out as he ran across the room.  The old man knelt down so that his grandson could wrap his four- or five-year-old arms around his neck.  “How is my youngest favorite kid this morning?”

“I’m great, Grandpa!  Hey.  I got this really awesome game called ‘Operation’ for Christmas.  You wanna play it later?”

“I would love that!” his grandfather told him.

The older Evan looked at the spirit, “Why have you brought me here?”

“Because you have to know where you’ve been in order to know where you’re going,” he responded.  “Duh!”  Evan just shook his head and turned his attention back to the vignette in front of him.  “So, tell me about what we’re seeing,” the spirit suggested.

“This was the Christmas before my grandfather died,” Evan mentioned.  “After the first of the year, he was diagnosed with cancer, and by the Fourth of July, he was gone.”

“I hate to hear that!  He seems like a really awesome guy.”

“He was,” Evan answered.

They stayed there for a bit and watched Evan’s interaction with his grandparents and parents, then his aunt, his uncle, and his cousin.  Evan smiled as his grandfather told jokes that seemed a lot cornier to him in that moment than they had when he was a kid.  His grandfather’s joviality was part of what had drawn the two close together.

“We should go,” the spirit told him after a while.  “We’ve still got a lot more to see.”

Evan sighed.  “Okay.”

The spirit extended his hand again, and Evan reflexively closed his eyes and took it.  He wanted to remember that moment, of seeing his grandfather again, just as it was.

*** *** ***

When Evan’s eyes opened again, they were in the middle of a small church.  “Oy…” he said as he remembered where they were.  He and the spirit, despite the fact that no one could see them, took a seat on the very last pew in the back.  “Second worst Christmas of my life.”

“How so?” the spirit asked as they looked toward the altar, toward the wedding that was taking place before them.

“My mother and father divorced like… two months before Christmas my senior year of high school.  Mom met this… completely insane man… and the two got married on Christmas Day.  I hated… hated that man.  He treated my mother like shit, and about two days after I graduated from high school, he convinced my mother to kick me out of the house.  Said that I was an adult and needed to learn how to take care of myself.  About a month after that, his thirty-two-year-old son moved into my old room and, as far as I know, is still there.”

“Ahh…” the spirit said.

“Then… my stepfather, when he found out I was gay, told me that I was no longer welcome in his home.  He and my mother fought about it, and in the end, she decided that he was right.  So… fuck her; fuck him…” Evan noted.  “Can we go now?”

“Yeah…” the spirit held out his hand.  Evan took it, and the two were off.

*** *** ***

They were transported to the following Christmas.  Evan was now a freshman in college, sitting and watching TV in his small, one-bedroom apartment in Tuscaloosa.  There was knock on the door, and he quickly stood to answer it.

“Well, hello,” the Evan in the scene said as Jarrod stood there.  “This is an unexpected surprise,” he said as Jarrod quickly walked into the apartment.

“I… uh…” Jarrod stammered.  “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone on the holiday, so when my family finished at my grandmother’s house, I decided to come down… and… if you’re cool with it, keep you company.”

Evan reached up and kissed him on the lips.

“We’d known each other for a couple of months,” Evan the observer told the ghost.  “It was in that moment that I realized that I was falling in love with him.  Before that night, we’d gotten together when we could, when our schedules permitted, but it was just physical.  We didn’t talk outside of my apartment, and I never went to his place before that night.  He was a god among the gay community at UA, and he chose me.  It was the greatest Christmas gift that he ever gave me.”

“He’s kinda hot,” the spirit noted.

“You have no idea…” Evan said wistfully.

They stood there, watching as the evening progressed.  Evan and Jarrod sat there for a while getting high; they made out, laughed at whatever was on TV, and when the time came for them to go to bed, they went together.  It was the first time that had happened, the first of many.

When the couple went to bed, the spirit fast forwarded them a bit, and when they returned to normal play, it was several years later.  The apartment still looked the same.  The small living room was dominated by the huge, old sofa, a small table, and an awesome TV.  Jarrod left their bedroom as naked as the day was long.

“Oh, Gawd...” even the spirit was taken aback.

“That… that was mine for a while,” Evan recalled the physical attraction he felt for Jarrod.  In their youth, Jarrod worked out religiously and had an amazing physique.  In that moment, however, Evan the observer, realized the emotional connection between them was, and had always been, more powerful.

In that part of the scene, Jarrod was starting on breakfast:  eggs and bacon with toast and grape jelly—Evan’s favorites.  Jarrod carefully put things on a small tray along with a glass of juice and a small red box.  With a smile on his face, he picked up the tray and carried it into the bedroom.

Evan and the spirit followed him into the bedroom and watched as Jarrod set the tray on a small table on his side of the bed.  He climbed atop the covers and leaned down over the slumbering Evan, kissed him on the neck and then moved up to the area just beneath his ear.  Evan stirred.

“Merry Christmas,” Jarrod said as Evan rolled onto his back and stretched.  Before Evan could respond, though, Jarrod reached down and kissed him on the lips.

“My breath…” Evan mentioned a moment later when Jarrod pulled away.

“It’s okay,” Jarrod leaned back, sat on his knees, and smiled.  Evan sat up, his legs still covered by the covers on their bed.  “If it were anyone else, I might be freaked out.”

“If it were anyone else, I’d be kicking your ass right now!” Evan joked.

“So, I’m going to go take a shower while you enjoy breakfast,” Jarrod said as he moved from the bed, grabbed the tray, and carefully set it on his lap.

“I love you, Jarrod,” Evan, from the scene, looked at him.

“I love you, too, Gorgeous,” Jarrod said as he kissed him once more and then ran into the adjacent bathroom to shower.

The spirit reached out his hand.  “Do we have to?” Evan asked, turning to look at him.

“Yeah,” the spirit said.

Reluctantly, Evan placed his hand into the ghost’s palm, and in an instant, the two were off again.

*** *** ***

They arrived next at a Christmas party being hosted by the firm for which Evan had continued to work until that very day.  It was the only one he’d ever gone to, but because of a conflict in schedule, Jarrod wasn’t with him.  The ghost, smiling, assured him that no one could see them as he looked around the room.  “This is such a stuffy place,” he commented as Evan looked to see coworkers, some of whom he’d not seen in some time.

“I’ve always been partial to daddies,” the spirit confessed as he started walking around.  Evan, standing there alone, turned to find himself standing in front of the firm’s founders, John Robert Holcombe and E. Lee Abernathy.  They were conversing with several other partners, men who, since that time, had started running the firm.

“So, what about that fag you hired?” one of them said to Mr. Abernathy.

“He’ll come around.  He’s just had one case.  You’ll see.  He’ll make the firm… and you… a lot of money one day.”

“I still don’t know why you hired him,” the man said.  “His… kind… make me feel uncomfortable.”

“That’s the same thing,” Mr. Holcombe pointed out, “that I used to say about the coloreds.”  His old, Southern mannerisms showed through as he slowly sipped brandy and consumed his contraband Cuban cigar. 

“Well...  Unless he shapes up,” the younger man said, “he’ll be out as soon as I take over the firm next year.”

“Remember that he’s under contract until 2010.  Be careful what you do!” Mr. Holcombe warned.

The spirit returned to find Evan starting to fume.  “You okay?”

“Fine.  Can you fast forward to the next year?  Like you did when we were at the apartment.”

“Yeah…” he said as he worked his magic.  In a second, they were standing in the same room, but a year later.

“Where is that darling Evan?” Mrs. Holcombe, the wife of the firm’s then late founder, inquired.

“He called earlier and said that he wouldn’t be able to attend.  His partner was killed earlier today,” another lady, one of the wives of the men who’d taken over the firm, responded.

“His partner?”

“Evan is… a homosexual,” she whispered the last part.

“Oh, my!  I had no idea…” the old lady said.  “You know, I don’t understand why anyone would choose such a way of life.  It’s an abomination of God!”

“There’s no such word in Hebrew,” Evan said to the spirit.  “What is the point in my seeing this?  Am I supposed to be getting angry?”

“I don’t know,” the spirit responded.  “I just take you to the places and let you draw your own conclusions.”

The spirit fast forwarded another two years into the future.  Once more, Evan was absent from the parties, having turned cold.  The man who’d taken over the firm, the man who, to his face, spoke of his respect for Evan, was again making comments about his sexuality and about how he wasn’t normal.  Angry and frustrated that he could do nothing to correct the issues of the past, he looked at the spirit.

“Take me home,” Evan demanded.

“We have one more stop…” the spirit started.

“Now!  Take me home… now.”

“We have… one… more… stop,” the spirit repeated as he held out his hand.

*** *** ***

Evan took his hand, and in a moment, they were back in the house near Springville.  Specifically, they were in his room downstairs.  He was watching something on the smaller TV he’d once had and smoking some of the weed he’d grown at home.  Evan watched as he held the lighter to the bowl and inhaled to create the smoke.  He took the bowl off, and took the smoke into his body with another breath.

“This is the same year as the last place we were at,” the spirit told him.  “Tell me what you were feeling.”

“Nothing.  I don’t feel much when I smoke,” Evan answered.  “Perhaps that’s why I do it.  For the numbness.”

“Perhaps,” the spirit agreed.

“You said a moment ago that I needed to know where I’d gone before I could know where I was going.  Why these particular scenes?  Why take me to these places?”

The spirit turned him and looked up into his eyes.

“Trust me when I say that you will understand it all in time, Evan,” he told him.

“I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it,” Evan turned back to watch himself finish the bowl and then carefully set the bong on the table beside the chair.  He watched himself lift the footrest and push the back of the recliner back.  As he fell asleep in the scene, Evan felt himself falling asleep with the spirit.

“Come on,” the spirit told him as he took his hand and transported him back to the living room where their paths had first crossed.  “Let’s put you to bed,” he continued as he helped Evan into the bedroom and then beneath the covers.

Evan yawned one time and shut his eyes.  Before he knew it, he was asleep.  The spirit, kind soul that he was, pulled the covers over Evan’s body and tucked him in.  He bent down and kissed his temple.  “May you find the peace you so desperately need,” he told Evan before backing away and, in a flash of light, moving on to someplace else.

Chapter 3: The Ghost of Christmas Present
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What seemed like an eternity passed for Evan as he continued to rest soundly in his bed.  A sudden flash of light in the room caught his attention, however, and as he rolled onto his back, he noticed a man standing in front of a full length mirror on the outside of Evan’s closet door.  He was a muscular man, a very muscular person.  He was white, but he had a great tan, and the satiny red posers he was wearing left little to the imagination.  He flexed and strutted himself in front of the mirror admiringly.  His arms were huge; his legs were perhaps the largest that Evan had ever seen.  He had calf muscles that looked like apples trapped just beneath his skin.  The top of his head looked like it had been freshly shaved.

As Evan pulled himself from the covers, the sounds he was making didn’t seem to phase the person before him.  “I’m assuming you’re the Ghost of Christmas Present,” he said, finally getting the attention of the being standing before him.

“You’re awake!” the guy sounded surprised.  “I was going to enjoy myself for another moment and then wake you to get this started.”  He gave Evan a once over as he stood from the bed.  “You know, if you were to hire a trainer, you could probably have a smoking body in no time at all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Evan said flatly as the guy smiled and walked over, extending his hand as the last spirit had done.  

*** *** ***

In a flash, the two were gone and standing inside an apartment filled to the brim with boxes.  There was a small Christmas tree sitting atop a table with a couple of presents beneath it.  A little girl was sitting on the sofa playing with a handheld gaming device of some kind.

“Tameka!” a woman shouted from another room.

“Yes, ma’am?” the girl responded, not looking up from her game.

“Get me another roll of that packing tape and bring it in here,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” the little girl said.  She set the game to the side and ran into the kitchen for the tape.  She then carried it down a hallway.

As they were in the back, a man in his late twenties came through the doorway of the apartment.  “HO! HO! HO!” he shouted.

“UNCLE JIMMY!” the little girl shouted back, running back down the hallway and into her uncle’s waiting arms.  When they finally broke the embrace, he looked around for a second before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a hundred dollar bill.

“Don’t tell your Mama about this, okay?” he said, handing it to her.  She quickly put it in her pocket and smiled. 

“I won’t say nothing,” the little girl said.

“Jimmy!” the little girl’s mom, sweaty from work, came into the room.

“How’s my favorite big sister?”

“She’s getting by,” the lady said as she walked over and gave her younger brother a hug.  “Sweetie.  Why don’t you go into your room for a minute and play, okay?”

“Okay…” the little girl said as she took her game and went down the hallway.

“Now you gonna tell me how you really are?”

“Scared… frustrated…” she answered.  “I have so much to do, and so little time to do it.”

“What do you need me to help with, sis?” the man asked.

“When I actually find a place, I’m gonna need some help moving my things,” she responded.  She started getting emotional as she thought about it all.  With the first tear came an embrace.  “If Carlos was still here, he’d know what to do,” she said.

“Shhh… It’ll be all right,” Jimmy said as he hugged his sister. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Evan saw the little girl, Tameka, standing at the edge of the hallway, out of sight.  “Why have you brought me to the apartment of Isabelle Johnson?”

“The purpose of this exercise is to show you what your actions have done to others this Christmas,” the spirit told him.

Evan looked at the girl again and then back at her mother as she cried quietly into her brother’s arms.  “Everybody else in this building has got somebody that can help them out, but other than you, I don’t.  It’s not like Tameka and I can move into your place, even temporarily.  I talked to the lawyer this morning, and she’s gonna try to help me find a place quickly, but I’m still so scared that I’m gonna be out on the streets.  Promise me that if I can’t find a place for us both right away and if I have to go to a shelter or something, that you’ll take Tameka until I can get back on my feet.”

“You ain’t gonna be on the streets,” Jimmy tried to reassure her.  “If we have to, we’ll make room, and I’ll tell all my girls that the two most important girls in my life are staying with me for a bit.”

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Isabelle told her brother.  “Now...  Why don’t I take y’all out to lunch somewhere for the holiday?” Jimmy proposed.   “Hmm… I know a nice place that’s open all day.”

“I can’t.  I don’t have any money…”

“Shut up!  I am taking you two out for lunch!  Tameka!  Get your coat!”

“Yes, sir!” she said as she ran into her room to grab a thick pink coat and some shoes.

In a second, the three of them walked out the door, and with that, Evan and the spirit left as well.

*** *** ***

Their next stop was a nice residential apartment area on Southside, a trendy, artsy neighborhood in Birmingham.  They appeared outside a particular building and took the stairs to the fourth floor.  The spirit stopped them at a door that was decorated with a gaudy wreath.  With a smile, the spirit walked through the closed door, and when Evan didn’t immediately follow, he returned his arm back through and waited on him to take it and enter the place himself.

There was a fire glowing in the fireplace, and the Christmas tree was lit up nicely.  A small boom box which sat on the mantle played holiday songs recorded by contemporary pop artists.  On the small, aging sofa, two guys talked about football while in the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a small bar, three girls and Bobby Carmichael, were working on Christmas dinner.

“So, is that guy you’ve got a crush on coming?” one of the girls asked him.

“No,” he answered.  “I finally worked up the nerve to go and ask him yesterday, and he quite summarily dismissed me, telling me that holidays, especially Christmas, were a waste of time.”

“God!  He sounds like such an ass,” another girl interjected.

“He is, but he’s so cute!” Bobby swam in his imagination for a second.  “I would still bone the hell out of him if ever given the chance!”

“I bet he’d probably tell you something like: ‘Sex is not productive,’” the third girl said as they all laughed.

“Bobby has a crush on me?” Evan asked the ghost, who just shrugged and shook his head.

“Evidently.  I mean, you’re not a bad looking guy,” the spirit told him.

The timer dinged, and everyone moved out of his way so Bobby could remove the turkey he’d been working on all day from the oven.  “That looks so-o-o good!” one of the guys said as he came into the kitchen and stood next to his lady.

“Hell,” the other guy said, “If I were a gay man, I’d rip your clothes off and do you right now!”

“So, you would do me for my culinary expertise?” Bobby joked with him.

“Hell… yes…” the guy answered as everyone laughed.  Bobby smiled.

“Why is it that I’m always attracted to the unattainable guys?!” Bobby asked, half in seriousness and half jokingly.

“You’ll find somebody,” the first guy told him.

“And you know…” the second guy started, “if we’re both still single when we turn 35, you and me gonna get married.”

“Why do you love teasing me so much?” Bobby asked him, feigning exasperation.

“Because it’s fun,” the guy smiled as he turned to reach into the fridge for a beer.

The spirit snapped his fingers, and in a moment, they had gone forward several hours.  Bobby was walking the last of his departing guests to the door.  As Evan stood watching, Bobby turned off the boom box and unplugged the tree.  He left the fire going for the warmth, but nothing more.  He took a seat on the sofa and took a deep breath.  His head fell back onto the back of the couch, and Evan noticed an expression on his face that was all too familiar.  Bobby felt as alone as Evan felt every day of his life, but the difference between them was that Evan had covered his up by building a wall that was far too high for anyone to cross.  Bobby, however, still believed in... possibilities.

“I should at least try to call him,” Bobby said almost desperately, as he leaned up, grabbed his cell phone, and quickly found a number in his list.  The call went immediately to voicemail.  At the tone that followed the standard, generic message, he stammered for a moment.  “Hi...  Evan...  This is Bobby Carmichael.  I just wanted to call you and ask your opinion on something.  I’ll catch you at the office sometime this week.  Hope your day is going well.  Bye.”  He hung up the phone, and after a deep sigh, Bobby stood from the sofa and went back into his bedroom to get ready for the night.

“Before we go,” Evan looked at the phantasm.  “What’s his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah.  I mean, I knew about Isabelle and what was going on, but why bring me to see Bobby?”

“When he came out to his family several years ago, they emotionally cut him off.  Had it not been for his friends, those that were here today, he would be as lonely as you are,” the muscular ghost said as he lifted his hand for Evan to take.

*** *** ***

A moment later, it was daytime again, and they were standing in the lobby of a small legal office on 1st Avenue North in East Lake.  It was decorated for Christmas, and despite the fact that it was a holiday, one office in the place remained lit.  Together, Evan and the spirit walked back into the office to find Lori Rodriguez, the attorney that had defended the residents of the building, talking on the phone.  An older lady was sitting in a chair next to the wall eating some turkey and home-style dressing.  The plate she’d brought for Lori was open, steaming, but virtually untouched.  She had the same turkey and dressing, as well as some cut green beans.

“Well, thank you, John.  Let me know what you find out,” she said to the person on the phone.  “I will.  Bye now.”

“Y’know,” the older lady started.  “I don’t understand people like that man.  How can someone be so… cruel… especially at Christmas?”

“Simple.  He has no heart!  That man is evil… incarnate!  You know, Mom, if I ever see him again, I will… Well, I just want to slap him.  Isabelle is such a nice person, and he’s going to put her and her little girl right out on the street!”

“He sounds like your father, a grade-A bastard!” the other lady said.

“Mom… don’t even compare this man to Daddy.  Daddy’s a saint next to him!” Lori responded.

“Okay.  Now eat your lunch,” the older lady said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lori said, forking herself a bit of the dressing and some of the green beans.

“You okay?” the spirit asked Evan.

“No one, not even me, likes to hear that he’s a heartless bastard,” Evan told him.  “Is it time to go?”

“Yeah…”

“Where to next?” Evan asked as they were quickly transported to yet another location.

*** *** ***

The next-to-last visit was to a trailer in the woods.  He’d never been there before, and he had no idea what to expect.  He and the ghost walked up the steps together and through the doorway. They found a woman sitting on a dilapidated sofa in the middle of a wretched mess, watching TV as she ate a frozen meal.

“She and I have more in common than I realized, I guess,” Evan said as he beheld what had become of Jarrod’s mother.

“In the process of grieving, you took everything that had ever been important in her life,” the spirit told him.  “At least that’s the way she feels.  Her father’s business, her home, her marriage, and her son.”  After a second of silence, he continued, “Your actions made her into this person.  Again… from her point of view.”

For the first time in a long time, Evan felt guilt.  He had few regrets as a rule, but he knew that, deep down, Jarrod loved his mom despite their issues.  All that happened in the days, weeks, and months following his passing must have made his soul sad.

“Well… let’s go,” the spirit told him.

“’K…” Evan held out his hand even before the spirit had lifted his. He was relieved to be leaving the sight in front of him.

*** *** ***

The next thing he knew, Evan and the ghost were standing in Evan’s weed room.  Both Evans were wearing the same orange t-shirt and grey gym shorts.  Both Evans were wearing the same white ankle socks. They stood there, watching Evan meticulously separating his weed.  The seeds went into a small, airtight bowl; the stems were placed into a small bag from which they’d be put into the trash.  He had a huge crushing device that cut up the weed into manageable bits before he put it into the leather container in which it was kept.

“So, this is how you spend Christmas?” the spirit asked.

“Yeah…” Evan answered.  He was so centered on himself that he’d not even stopped to think about other people in the world, people who’d been affected by his actions.

“Well… I’ve shown you everything I can show you,” the spirit told him.

“So when should I expect the last spirit?”

*** *** ***

Before answering, the spirit transported them back to the current time and to Evan’s bedroom.  “Soon,” he replied as Evan yawned.  “Get some rest.  You’re going to need it,” he said as he pulled the covers over Evan’s body.  Almost by the time his head hit the pillow, Evan was out.  “You will be okay,” the spirit whispered to him before, and like the first visitor, he backed away from the bed.  He took a second to check out in the mirror, as best he could, the view from the back.  “I’m gonna miss this body,” he said a mere second before clapping and vanishing from Evan’s room.

 Chapter 4: The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come
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“EVAN RAY SANDERS!” a booming, ominous voice cried, breaking him from his sleep.  Scared shitless, Evan sat up straight in the bed.  “EVAN RAY SANDERS!” the voice called again.  He quickly jumped from his bed and went into the closet to grab a pair of gym shorts.  While standing there pulling the shorts up his legs, the voice called out his name once more, and Evan realized, in that moment, that somehow it was the house itself calling him.

A black mist began coming from the walls and heading toward the back of the house, into the woods.  Evan grabbed a light coat and some flip flops, pulling the latter on quickly and the former more slowly as he ran down the hallway toward the back door.  He grabbed the bat that was still in the living room and took it out with him.

“EVAN RAY SANDERS!” the voice continued to call, from the woods this time, as he stepped onto the deck.

“Show yourself!” Evan shouted into the night as he stepped into the clipped back lawn.

In a moment, a black cloud came hurtling toward him, then it flew behind him before escaping into the woods.  It was followed by another coming from and going to a different place.  “EVAN RAY SANDERS!” the voice called for a fifth time that evening as six of the inky clouds flew right past him.  Rather than going back into the woods, that time they flew into each other ahead of Evan and began spinning in various directions, just as Jarrod’s ghost had done earlier.

“Are you the Ghost of Christmas Future?” Evan asked as the wind picked up, nearly knocking him over.

“Indeed, I am,” the bellowing voice cried out to him as the clouds produced a figure ahead of him. He was tall, taller than any average person.  He had snow white hair, icy blue eyes, and pale skin.  His fingers were long, but the rest of his body was covered by a huge, black robe.

“Where are you going to take me?” Evan demanded.

“To show you the end result of the things your actions have set into motion,” the spirit lorded over him like a judge waiting to read a verdict.

Unlike the other spirits, however, this one didn’t hold out his hand for Evan to take.  Instead, he merely lifted his bony hand toward the heavens, and from the index finger of his right hand a dark light was emitted.  It grew and expanded until it overtook them both seconds later, transporting them to what Evan thought was an interstate underpass. 

*** *** ***

As he looked around, he realized that he was on 1st Avenue in the city’s historic district.  Above his head, Evan could hear cars moving at breakneck speeds.  Beside him, people were slowly driving by as if they were looking for or at something.

“I’m right here, baby,” a lady yelled as she ran toward one of the cars.  A black Chevrolet Caprice with deeply tinted windows stopped long enough for the woman to climb in. 

As it pulled off, it was as if Evan and the spirit were pulled through time and space to a small room in a foul smelling house.  A moment later, the woman came in with the man that had stopped to pick her up.  He threw her onto the bed and began having his way with her. 

“You got the shit, right?” she asked him.

“Oh, yeah,” he said as he inserted himself into her and did what he had to do to reach his personal plateau of pleasure.

A moment later, he filled her with his seed and then quickly pulled out.  After standing from the bed, he put himself away and reached into his pocket.  He took out a small plastic bag of dope and threw it at her, leaving without saying a word.  The woman quickly pulled the necessary supplies from her purse, and within a few minutes, she was inserting a needle into a vein between two of her toes.  She was going to see her daughter the next morning, and she didn’t want to have any fresh bruises on her arms.  The high was nearly instantaneous, and she fell asleep onto the bed.

The spirit lifted his hand to transport them to the next place, but Evan stopped him.  “How did she get to this point?”

“You don’t see?  Your defense of the property management company caused her to lose her home.  She wasn’t able to find any place to go, so she sent her daughter to her brother’s and took up residence in the underpass where we just were,” the spirit, its booming voice softened slightly, explained.

“Oh…” Evan acknowledged as the spirit lifted his arm again, snapped its fingers, and took him to the next stop on their journey.

*** *** ***

They were in the legal aid office, but unlike before, it was insanely busy.  The spirit walked toward Lori’s office, and Evan followed.  Inside, Lori was at her desk while Isabelle’s brother, Jimmy, was sitting where her mother had been the last time they were there.

“She came by the house yesterday, Lori.  She was so strung out, sick from something.  She made me promise to take care of Tameka, but to do that in this case, I’m gonna have to keep her away,” Jimmy said regretfully.

“I’ll start working on the papers that you’ll have to deliver to social services for a full custody transfer to you and then something to keep her from being able to come to the house.”

“Lori.  I don’t want to hurt her.  She needs help, but I have to protect Tameka.”

“I understand,” Lori said, reaching her hand across the desk and placing it atop his, “and I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Jimmy said as they both stood and as he left the office.

The spirit snapped its fingers, and they were, once again, off.

*** *** ***

This time it was to Bobby’s apartment.  From the moment they entered, Evan heard him crying from the bathroom.  Evan strode quickly down the hallway and found Bobby standing in the bathroom, looking into the mirrored door of a small medicine cabinet.

“Why do you let him do this to you?” Bobby asked as he looked at himself.  “He’s just a guy, and he’s a horrible one at that.  He’s just a guy…” he repeated to himself as he opened up the cabinet and began removing bottles and then throwing them onto the ground.  “He’s just a guy,” he said once more as he took one particular bottle into the living room.  He sat on the couch and grabbed his phone to compose a text message.  All he had to do was hit ‘send’ when he was ready.

He then took the bottle in his hand and removed the lid.  He began taking the pills that he poured into his hand, swallowing three or four at a time and washing them down with Mountain Dew.  When the bottle was emptied, he reached over, hit the button on his phone, threw it against the wall and then sat back to die in peace.

“He’s just…” Bobby breathed softly as he lay down on the couch and slipped away.

*** *** ***

The spirit snapped his fingers, and some time had elapsed.  One of Bobby’s friends Evan remembered from the Christmas dinner kicked the door in to find him lying there.  He slapped his face a couple of times, trying to wake him, but it was no use.  As he cried, the friend tried performing CPR to get Bobby’s heart beating again.

“You can’t do this!  If you wake up, I’ll let you do unmentionable things to me!” he shouted through the tears.  When he realized that it was no use, Bobby’s friend fell backwards onto his butt.  The man was crying so hard and so profusely that, in a moment, he found himself turning to throw up on the carpet that, at one point, Bobby had been so proud to own.

He grabbed his cell phone and through the shaking, he managed to dial 911.  In a few minutes, police and paramedics arrived on the scene, but they quickly determined that there was nothing that could be done.  Bobby Carmichael was dead.

Once the paramedics made that determination, the police called for a coroner.  The spirit looked at Evan to find him crying.  He reached up and snapped his fingers to take them to the next moment in time that Evan was to see.

*** *** ***

In a flash, they were standing in the living room of Jarrod’s mother’s trailer near Springville.  They could hear her singing from her bedroom, and a moment later, she came out wearing a brassiere which was a bit too small and some oversized granny style panties.  Her grey hair was in curlers covered by what had to been the ugliest and most out-of-date formal hat that any Southern woman could own.

“Marjorie!  I’m running to the supermarket to pick up some things for Christmas dinner; I’ll be back shortly,” Mrs. Mitchell announced to the emptiness of the trailer.  “Yes.  Jarrod should be home shortly, and yes, he’s bringing the Devilspawn with him.”

“Glad to know she still thinks about me,” Evan tried to joked with the spirit; the spirit was not amused.

Mrs. Mitchell grabbed her purse, put it on her shoulder, took the keys to her car and went outside.  With another snap of the spirit’s fingers, they were also in the car.  Evan sat beside Jarrod’s mother, and the spirit was in the back seat.  They watched her as she drove down Highway 11 through Springville to the Publix grocery store in Trussville.  She pulled into the parking lot and climbed out as if it were nothing.  With dozens of sets of eyes staring at her, she pulled a cart from the corral and went into the grocery store.  Almost instantly, the manager started talking to her, asking her to come along with him, but she thought he was just having a conversation, talking nonsensically.

Evan watched as the police arrived and tried to restrain her.  “Jarrod is bringing the Devilspawn for Christmas dinner,” she continuously shouted as people looked on, gawking and wondering what the crazy old lady was talking about.  As they dragged her away, the spirit snapped his fingers and they were arriving in a hospital room.

*** *** ***

In the bed lay Jarrod’s mother, muttering “Jarrod” and “Devilspawn.”  When she got too loud or the heart monitor showed elevated activity, a nurse would come in and give medicine that would basically knock her back to a near catatonic state.

“I did this to her…” Evan admitted.

“It was not you, entirely.  You, however, did play the largest part when you took her world away and created the monster that you see before you.”  Without warning, the spirit snapped his fingers once more.

*** *** ***

Yet again, the two of them were standing in Evan’s back yard, the shrill, cold wind racing around, freezing his soul to the core.  He looked down, though, and realized that he was standing on a single foot-by-foot piece of land.  All around that small square of earth was a black pit whose bottom Evan could not see.

“EVAN RAY SANDERS!” the voice again bellowed.  The apparition’s mouth wasn’t moving.  The voice was coming from the house, from the ground, from the trees all around.

It was in that moment Evan realized that it was his actions alone that had caused all the pain and suffering he’d observed through the night’s glimpses into the lives of others.  His soul began to quiver with fear as the ground shook beneath him. His mouth began to fill with the bile of his own remorse, and Evan began to tremble almost uncontrollably. “Please.  I will change.  Please, give me the chance to change,” he begged softly.

“You must be held responsible for your actions!” the voice roared.

“Please… please… I beg you… please,” he said more loudly to the spirit whose countenance was unrelenting and angry.

“You will pay for your blatant disregard for humanity, Evan Ray Sanders,” the spirit shouted as he lifted his right finger to the heavens and held out his left palm to Evan.  In the skies above, lightning flashed, and Evan realized an entity of such great power could no doubt do him in by channeling the power of the sparks of Zeus.

Evan felt himself beginning to come apart.  He looked to find his body disintegrating, turning bit by bit into a grey mist similar to that from which he’d seen Jarrod come earlier.  He started to see similar silvery grey entities in the skies above, hovering and circling like buzzards.  Then he started to feel the weights.  There was so much; there were so many.  As he looked, he saw huge chains and weights wrapping themselves around his arms and legs like so many snakes.  One crossed his chest, squeezing, and Evan found it harder and harder to breathe.  His final breath flew from his mouth in the grey mist, and he knew for certain that his life was coming to an end.

“Will you no more beg for your own, miserable existence?” the spirit asked in a normal voice, similar to the other spirits.

“If this is to be my fate…” Evan said in seeming resignation. Then, with his last breath, Evan simply whispered, “I’m so sorry... sorry for everything...”

A spark of lightning then struck the spirit’s finger, flowed through his body, and escaped through his palm toward Evan.  The bolt struck him squarely in the chest, leaving Evan with an abrupt sense of freedom from all the pain that he’d forced himself to endure over the years.  The weights and chains suddenly felt lighter as Evan closed his eyes and fell backwards into the abyss.

Chapter 5: Resolution
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Evan shot up in his bed completely out of breath.  He looked around to find everything was in its proper place.  The sun was shining through the window, so he knew he’d made it through the night.  He felt around his body, and there were no chains, no weights, but the same peace he felt while falling backward into the chasm was still with him.  Standing up, he observed the red box wasn’t sitting on the bedside table, but neither was his water glass.  He stepped into the bathroom and found the glass sitting on the counter.

Running back into the room, he looked for the baseball bat, and it wasn’t there.  On the off chance that it might be elsewhere, Evan looked out his window and saw it lying in the back yard.  He walked into living room and turned on the stereo.  A dance remix of “Jingle Bells” began playing.  Those three things were the proof he needed to realize that everything he’d experienced the night before had actually happened.  He had seen Jarrod, and Jarrod had held him.  The ghosts had indeed taken him on fantastic voyages into worlds that he would have never experienced otherwise.  Most importantly, Evan had obviously been given a second chance.  He couldn’t screw it up, for he knew already what his fate in the afterlife would be.

But where to start?  What to do?  All of it was a bit overwhelming at first.  With that realization, he went back into his bathroom and luxuriated in a hot shower.  He dressed in a tan pair of pants, a light blue button down shirt that nicely fit over his average sized frame, and a cream colored sweater that, in his mind, was a perfect fit for the day.  He slid his feet into some comfortable brown loafers and went back into the bathroom to brush his hair.  Before he started on his hair, he decided that he wanted something different.  With that, he opened a drawer and found all of Jarrod’s toiletries still neatly arranged.  He grabbed some of his boyfriend’s hair gel and proceeded, for the first time in his life, to spike his hair.  He picked at it a couple of times with his brush, and it looked just right in the end.

Evan went back into the bedroom and then through the house into the kitchen.  He grabbed his wallet, car keys, and cell phone from the counter and practically ran downstairs.  He went into the weed room to grab something from his safe and then went out to his car.  He opened the door before starting up the engine, and as soon as the door lifted, he backed out.  Evan hit the button on the remote once more and waited until the door was completely lowered before turning on the alarm with another remote and driving off.

On the open road, his car sort of knew where he needed to go first, so it took him through Springville to a dirt road that led to a tiny trailer in the middle of a field.  Evan parked his car and, after a deep breath, climbed from behind the wheel and strode up onto the porch.  He knocked three times and took a step back.  After a moment, the door opened, and the crabby late-middle-aged woman inside looked at him up and down for a moment.

“What could you possibly want here?” she snarled at him.

“Meet me at the first cleaners Monday at two p.m.,” Evan told her.

“What for?”

“For once, trust the Devilspawn, Margaret,” he said.  He smiled.  “Merry Christmas,” he called as he turned and walked off the porch, leaving the house almost as quickly as he’d arrived.  Margaret stepped out onto the porch as he turned around and then pulled away.  Evan was different, but Mrs. Mitchell couldn’t quite put her finger on how.

Back on the highway, he drove back into town and then climbed onto the interstate.  He turned on the radio to listen to 103.7, a local pop station as he drove down I-59.  When he got to Trussville, he pulled onto I-459, the city’s southern loop, and followed it around until the highway met the interchange with US-280.  He took that road back toward Downtown, but at Mountain Brook, one of the southern suburbs, he climbed off and meandered through meticulously organized streets until he came to a huge house that sat quite forebodingly on a hill.  He pulled into the driveway and parked the car next to the garage beside several others.

Evan climbed out of the car and walked around to the front door.  He rang the bell and stepped back.  In a second, his boss’ maid, Lupe, opened the door.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Hola, Lupe.  Feliz Navidad,” he said, revisiting the Spanish that he’d not used in a very, very long time.

“Y prósperoañonuevo,” she responded, with a smile.

“Is Mr. Abernathy here?”

“Yes.  If you’ll come in, I’ll tell him that you’re here, Mr. Sanders,” she said, moving out of the way so that he could step into the house.

Lupe exited the huge, white foyer with its amazing crystal chandelier hanging high above.

“Evan,” his boss, the son of the firm’s founder who’d died years earlier, came in.

“Mr. Abernathy,” Evan responded, a quiet smile filled with resolution on his face.  “Is there a place where we can talk in private?”

“My study,” he said as he pointed Evan in that direction.  “What can I do for you?” he asked as he shut the door. 

“As I understand it, my contract expires next Friday.  Correct?”

“Yes, but didn’t you sign a renewal?”

“I did, but it contains a clause that says that I can withdraw from it within sixty days.  Day 60 falls on the same day the last contract expires.”

“Okay.  So…”

“Next week, I’ll be cleaning my office out.  Then, for a month, I’m taking an extended vacation someplace nice and tropical.  Then I’m going to come back, and I’m going to start my own firm.  Don’t worry, though, I won’t be taking any of your clients.  Besides, that would be unethical for me to do,” Evan looked at him.  He saw fear in his eyes.  Evan had been the firm’s powerhouse for so long, and with him gone, Mr. Abernathy wasn’t sure that he’d be able to keep some of the clients that brought in a ton of money to the firm.

“Is there any room for negotiation?” Mr. Abernathy asked.

Evan smiled.  “None.  No room at all.  I’ve made my decision, and I’m going to stick to it,” he told him. 

“All right,” Mr. Abernathy said.  “Want a drink?”

“No, sir, but thank you,” Evan smiled.  “And thank you for taking a chance on me after I lost my first case,” Evan said.  Mr. Abernathy vividly remembered a conversation he’d had with his father years earlier in which Evan was the topic of discussion.  He remembered what was said, and the phrase that the man before him uttered let him know that Evan knew about it, too.

“I’ll need a written resignation, dated for today, on my desk Monday morning.”

“It’ll be there,” Evan knew that he’d have no problem.

“Sorry for disturbing your Christmas, Mr. Abernathy, but thank you for your time.”

“No problem, Evan,” he said as Evan quietly took his leave. 

After he walked out of the study, Evan spoke to Lupe once more in Spanish and to Mrs. Abernathy before taking his leave of them.  As he pulled down the driveway, he turned back onto Lakeshore Parkway and stopped at a small wine shop he found open near Samford University, a Southern Baptist College where his mother had briefly taught Spanish.

He picked up two bottles and three glasses.  Both were white wines that would go well with turkey.  From there, he took the interstate back to East Lake, and quite handily, Evan found a parking space in front of the Legal Aid office on 1st Avenue North.  Climbing from the car, he grabbed one of the bottles of wine and the three glasses.  He took them to the front door only to find that it was locked.

“Shit…” he said to himself, wondering if he was either too early to catch Lori there or too late.

“What are you doing here?” he heard Lori call from one side.  He turned to find her and her mother walking toward the door; both of them had an angry look on their faces.

“I need to talk to you about some things,” he said, a serious look on his face.

“About?”

“I know why you’re coming in today, and I can help you with it.”

“Before you tell me anything, let me just say:  I will not be a party to any unethical behavior, and if what you’re about to tell me will be in any violation of attorney/client privilege whatsoever, then just get back into your car and leave me alone right now,” Lori told him.

“First.  I have no intention of breaking attorney/client privilege.  I’m not that kind of attorney.  Second, I quit my job about forty-five minutes ago, which is something else I want to talk to you about.  Third, the help that I can provide is private and in no way connected with the firm or the client I represented,” Evan explained.

“Mama,” she turned to her mother.  “Why don’t you go inside?”  She turned to Evan.  “Is that for me?”

“It is,” he said, handing her the wine and glasses.

“Wine’s always good,” her mother said as she took the things inside.

“I want details about the third one, first,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Several years ago, I lost my partner, Jarrod.  In the months that followed, his mother and I got into a… a fiery legal battle, and I won.  To satisfy the judgment, she transferred ownership of their family business and of the home that Jarrod grew up in to me.  I’m going to give her the business back on Monday, because I feel like that’s what Jarrod would want me to do.  I also know that his mother has a phobia of places with negative energy, so she won’t go back into the house ever again.”  He looked at her.  “I know you think I’m a snake of a person, but I can help your client, and I want to.”

Lori looked at him and saw sincerity.  She hadn’t seen it in any of her other dealings with him.  In those cases, she’d seen a sort of blankness.  In this moment, however, he had fire.  “I want to look at it before I call her.”

“Let’s go,” Evan said.

“Hold on,” she said as she stepped into the office to speak to her mother for a moment.  Upon her return, Evan held the passenger door of his car open for her.  She climbed in as he walked around the driver’s side.  “Before you pull off...” she said.

“Yes?”

“I should tell you that my mother has instructions to call the police in an hour if I’m not back.”

“You’ll be back safely.  I promise,” Evan told her.

“Okay…” she said as he smiled.

Evan pulled out of the space and drove quickly down 1st Avenue.  In Roebuck, they turned onto Center Point Parkway and drove through Huffman.  As he’d told her, the house was in the Stonehedge neighborhood of Huffman.  It wasn’t the grandest house, but it was nice.  The yard needed some work both in the front and back, but the interior appeared to be in great shape.

“Before I call her,” Lori said as they walked back out, “I need to know what you’re going to charge her in rent.”

“In rent?  I was going to sell it to her, if she wanted it.”

“How much?”

“Whatever she can offer to pay in one sitting,” Evan said after they’d climbed in.

“What?”

“Yeah.  I can’t give it to her, for tax purposes, but I can sell it to her for the most amazing deal the real estate market in this city has ever seen,” Evan told her.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch… at all…  It’s just a decent place where she can raise her daughter in peace.”

“So, what’s made you change your way of thinking?” Lori asked Evan as he backed out of the drive.

“If I tried to explain it, I would fall short, and you’d think I was insane,” he answered her.

“Okay,” she said as he turned to return to her office.

On the way back, Evan told her that he was tired of being that attorney that everyone feared.  He’d made a small fortune over the previous few years, but he wanted to now take some time to help people benefit from his education and experience, Evan explained.  He said that, after an extended vacation, he planned to do some volunteer work for a while to sort of redefine who he was as an attorney.  Sensing the sincerity in his voice again, Lori told Evan that they could always use qualified attorneys at her legal aid office, especially ones willing to do pro bono work.

By the time they got back, Lori realized that there was more to him than she’d ever thought before.  They went inside to find her mother sitting in Lori’s office eating lunch.  The bottle of wine was open.  “This wine is good!” she told him.  “Thank God Lori’s driving me around today, ’cause I’ve already had four glasses!”

“Have as much as you want,” Evan smiled.

“Don’t tell her that!” Lori declared as she picked up the phone and quickly dialed a seven digit number from memory.  “Isabelle?  Hey.  This is Lori Rodriguez.  How are you?”

“I’m good,” Isabelle told her.  “You?”

“Not bad.  Listen.  I have a lead on a place.  Mind if the owner and I come by for a few minutes and talk about it?”

“Not at all,” Isabelle told her, trying not to become too excited.  “Not at all.”

“Okay.  We’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” she said as they hung up.

“Mama...  No more wine until we get back,” Lori said as her mother just glared at her and flatly poured another glass for herself.

“Yes, ma’am,” her mother said as they again left.

In less than ten minutes, they were at the apartment.  Together, they walked up the stairs and quickly found the apartment.  Lori knocked, and Isabelle quickly answered the door.  Her smile turned instantly to rage when she saw Evan standing there with her attorney.

“Lori...  You are always welcome in my home, but that man has ten seconds to be out of my face, or I’m going to push him over that railing,” she cried, so angry that she was about to weep.  “You did this to me… to my daughter.  I’m unemployed at the moment; this was the only place I could afford, and you’ve taken it from me!  You are the devil!”

“Isabelle,” Lori quickly moved between them.  “He’s here to help.”

“Just how is he gonna help me?!”

“Give him five minutes, and if you still feel like he’s the devil, then I won’t stand in your way,” Lori told her.  “That okay with you, Evan?”  Evan nodded.

“All right… but only because it’s you,” Isabelle said as she invited them in.  “Tameka, go in your room for a minute,” she said as she and her brother, who Evan recognized from the visit with the spirit, stayed in the room.  When Tameka was gone, Isabelle looked at him.  “Well?”

“I have a house in Huffman.  It’s four bedroom, three bath.  It needs some yard work, and the inside needs just a bit of love.  There’s some furniture in there, but not much.”

“I can’t afford a two-bedroom apartment.  How am I supposed to pay for a four-bedroom house?” Isabelle honestly wondered.

“The house is not for rent.  It’s for sale.  The price is negotiable.”

“What are you doing to me?” she started to cry.

“Isabelle!  Make him an offer...” Lori nudged her client.

“One hundred dollars!” Isabelle exclaimed, thinking that he would laugh at her, which would have driven her to do something that would be classified as a crime of passion.

“Okay,” Evan responded as Isabelle looked at him.

“What?”

“A hundred dollars is fine with me.”

“Sweetie,” Lori started explaining to Isabelle.  “He can’t give it to you for tax reasons, but he can sell it for practically nothing.”

“Mommy,” Tameka came into the room.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Here,” she said, handing her the hundred dollar bill that her uncle had given her earlier.

“Where did you get a hundred dollars, Tameka?”

“Uncle Jimmy,” the child replied.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Isabelle said to her younger brother.  “And this is serious.  You’re not gonna come up later and start demanding more money?”

“Nope.  I want to it to be a thing from my past, and you need the place.”

“I will give this back to you as soon as I can,” she promised her baby.  “And this place is okay?” she asked Lori.

“I wouldn’t be over here if it wasn’t,” Lori smiled.

As Isabelle started to cry, Evan pulled the keys from his pocket.  “If you want to,” he told her, “you can go look at the house yourself first.  If it’s all right with Lori, I’ll stay at her office for a while.”

“That would be a good idea,” Jimmy agreed. 

“Okay,” Isabelle agreed as Evan handed her the house keys.

“Come on,” she said to Jimmy.  “You’re coming with me, and we’re going to talk.  Tameka, sweetie, run get your coat.”

“As long as you promise not to get on to Uncle Jimmy.  It’s my fault he’s in trouble,” the little girl said.

“Coat!  Now!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tameka relented.

Returning to Lori, Isabelle continued, “We’ll call you in a few minutes.”

“We’ll be at the office,” Lori told Isabelle as she and Evan made their way to the door.

“I’m sorry I called you the devil,” Isabelle told Evan.

“It’s okay.  My former mother-in-law calls me ‘Devilspawn’ to this day!” he joked.  Isabelle laughed.

“We’ll talk to you in a little while,” she promised him.

Evan and Lori returned to the office to find that her mother had finished half the bottle already.  “Imma stop now!” she slurred slightly as Lori just shook her head.

“Okay, Mom,” Lori said as Evan sat down in another chair.  “Would you like some turkey?”

“Oh, I’m fine.  Thank you, though.”

“Welcome…” Lori said as she opened up the plate.  “Let me eat real fast, and I’ll start on the paperwork.  I can’t believe I’m working on Christmas.  At least it’s for something meaningful, y’know?  So, how do you normally spend Christmas?”

“The last few years, I’ve sat at home by myself.”

“That sucks!” Lori’s mom said.  “You don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”

“Mom…” Lori tried to get her to stop.

“No, ma’am.  I’m gay.”

“OH!  I love gay people!  When I was in California, I used to go out to the gay bars all the time!”

“I haven’t been to a gay bar in so long!” Evan said.

“You and me’ll go out sometime, then.”

“All right!” Evan smiled.

Lori’s phone rang a second later, and she quickly answered it to find Isabelle on the other end.  There was no need to put her on speakerphone; Evan could hear her, her excitement.  Lori immediately started to work on the paperwork that they’d have to have to transfer ownership of the property, and she was almost finished when Isabelle, Jimmy, and Tameka got there. 

“You are SO not the devil,” Isabelle told him as she reached up to give him a hug.  He let her stand there crying for as long as she needed to.

When Lori got the papers finished, Evan ran out to the car to get the deed while she and Isabelle went into the conference room.  A short time later, Isabelle walked out with the keys to her new home.  She, Jimmy, and Tameka left happy, talking about the Christmas miracle that they’d just experienced.

“I’m going to need you to do some paperwork later this week, I think,” Evan advised Lori.  “How much would you charge me?” he asked with a grin.

“Because of what you’ve just done, there will be no charge.”

“All right.  Thank you,” he said.  “Now... I have a Christmas lunch to crash, so I will talk to you later.”

“Okay…” Lori said. “I hope you know you did a real good thing here this morning.” Evan simply continued to smile and walked out of the office.

As he left, he drove down 1st Avenue toward Downtown rather than getting on the interstate.  It took a few minutes more, but he got to his ultimate destination eventually.  Remembering landmarks from the previous night’s excursions, Evan knew exactly where to go to find Bobby’s apartment.  He found a place on the street and grabbed the second bottle of wine as he climbed out.  Evan quickly paid the meter and went into the apartment, holding the door for an old lady who was coming out.

“Thank you, young man,” she smiled and said to him.

“Merry Christmas,” he said cheerfully as he walked into the building and up to the apartment he remembered to be Bobby’s. 

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.  After a second, he heard someone coming to the entry, and he was surprised to find Bobby’s friend from the visit standing at the door.  “Can I help you?”

“Yeah… Is this Bobby Carmichael’s apartment?” Evan asked as, in the kitchen, Bobby heard Evan’s voice and inexplicably became more than a little nervous.

“Yes,” Brent answered.  “Who are you?”

“I’m Evan.  He invited me over yesterday.”

“Evan… the Evan from the firm?”

“Yes.  Well.  Soon to be gone from the firm,” Evan responded, assuming that he already knew of him by reputation.

“Come in… I’m Brent, by the way.” Brent moved out of his way so that Evan could come in.

“Nice to meet you finally in person, Brent,” Evan said as Brent looked slightly puzzled.

“Evan!  I really wasn’t expecting you to come,” Bobby said as he walked into the living room.  Brent shut the door and remained there by Bobby in a protective stance.

“I know, and I want to start by apologizing.  I’ve been an ass to everyone for a while, and I took it out on you yesterday.  I don’t expect you to forgive me…” he started to stammer like Jarrod would do sometimes.

“Forget about it, Evan. It’s good to have you here,” Bobby said.  “Is that for me?” he smiled and pointed to the bottle still in Evan’s hand.

“Yes!  Sorry…” Evan smiled.

Bobby’s friends quickly pulled Evan into their circle, their conversations, their lives, and for the first time in years, he felt like he was someplace where he belonged.  He laughed, carried on, ate more really awesome food than he had in ages, and at the end of the night, after all of Bobby’s friend had left, the two of them had a chance to just talk.  There was no ulterior motive, just conversation.  Bobby was charming and interesting, and Evan had a smart-ass, dry sense of humor that helped him easily fit in.

“So... I should probably head home,” Evan told him.  “It’s been a very long time since I had a day this amazing.  I want to thank you for it.”

“Same here.  I… um… I’m going to tell you something that’s going to be weird for someone to tell at this point… but…”

“Spit it out,” Evan let his confidence, but not his cockiness, shine through for a moment.

“Since I started working at the firm, I’ve had this… crush on you.”

“On me?  Really?  Until this morning, I was always an asshole to you,” Evan played it off like he didn’t know what was about to be said.

“Yeah.  True, but maybe I’m glutton for punishment!” Bobby joked as Evan laughed.  “If you are up for it, I would like to go out on a date with you.”

“You’d have to be patient with me.  It’s been a while since I’ve been… on a date.”

“That’s fine,” Bobby told him.  “To be honest...  It has for me, too.  We could relearn together!”

“That works,” Evan laughed.  He stood after a second and walked toward the door.  Bobby followed close behind him.  “Thank you again, and I’m sorry again for… making you miserable for a while.”

“It’s fine,” Bobby said Evan stepped past the threshold into the hallway.  Evan turned and looked into Bobby’s deep blue eyes.  There was indeed something there; it just took the visit from the ghost of the man who’d been his life and three others whose names he didn’t know for Evan to realize it. 

Epilogue
1  2  3  4  5 

On Christmas Eve 2011, Evan woke up early and went to work making sure the house was clean in preparation for his expected guests.  By nine, Bobby arrived from Birmingham, and despite how much Evan wanted to take him into the other room and waste an hour or so, Bobby insisted that they stay on task.  There were a lot of things that remained to be done.  While Evan continued to clean, Bobby started working on food.  He’d discovered that Evan, despite how much he loved food, couldn’t boil water without burning a pan. 

Time passed quickly, and at three, Lori and her mother arrived at the house.  Evan and Lori had become friends through his volunteer work with Legal Aid during the first half of the year.  In July, just after the holiday, they decided to open a firm together:  Rodriguez and Sanders.  They asked Bobby to come head a Civil Litigation Department, which would for a while consist only of him, but he refused.  He did, however, leave the firm where he and Evan had met for another one when his contract expired in August.  He was much happier, as were Evan and Lori.  While Lori’s mother and Bobby joked about something over a glass of wine, Lori pulled out a Christmas card from her purse and handed it to Evan.  It was from Isabelle and Tameka.  They were happy in their home, and Isabelle had found a job working for the hospital that was only a mile and a half from the house.  Evan thought the remembrance was sweet and he hung the picture they’d enclosed of them standing in front of their decorated house on the fridge for all to see.

As they went about preparing things for the party, Bobby’s friends started arriving by the cars full, joking about how hard it was to find the house, even though they’d been there countless times in the previous year.  Brent and Evan had even formed a friendship of their own after Brent made sure that Evan knew that it would be his ass if he ever hurt Bobby. 

At around five, Jarrod’s mother stopped by the house to drop off a couple of things she’d promised to bring, but she explained that she couldn’t stay because she had a date to another party.  Her life changed seemingly overnight when Evan gave her the shops back.  She again had a purpose, something to live for, and an income.  Seeing the kindness that he had embraced prompted her to make changes in her own life; among them was finding a man and being completely honest with him about all things.

They all hung out for a while, chatting and carrying on, but by nine, everyone was either getting tired or had to get ready for long days ahead.  In short order, everyone except Bobby who’d come that day left, and by ten, it was just the two of them.  Evan said something about taking a shower, and Bobby made some joke about picturing him in the shower.  After he and Bobby were both finished, they climbed into bed.  Evan was on the left side, as usual, and Bobby was cuddled up behind him.  They quickly drifted off to a peaceful land of slumber.

At some point in the night, the wind blew a twig or something against the bedroom window, and Evan stirred.  He opened his eyes to find a small, dark red box sitting on the table.  It had a red ribbon around it, and a red bow on top.  The tag said, in Spanish, “Ábrame.”  Quietly, so as not disturb his lover’s peaceful sleep, Evan unwrapped himself and climbed from the bed, grabbing the box in the process.  Bobby grumbled for a moment but never completely woke up as Evan quietly slipped from the room.

He made his way down the hallway to the door leading to the basement.  He opened it and went downstairs to the weed room, a room Evan didn’t use nearly as often as he once had.  As he stepped inside, he turned on the light; then, with both excitement and nervousness, he opened the box.  He smiled when there was nothing inside except the black, velvety lining.  He put his finger inside and swirled it around, just as he’d done the last time, and when he still found it empty, he turned it upside down. 

A silver drop fell to the floor and rolled.  It popped, and the smoky mist that came out once again coalesced into the man that had been, for as long as he’d been an adult, a part of his life.  The two stepped toward each other and shared a huge hug.

“It is so good to see you,” Jarrod said.

“Merry Christmas,” Evan told him.

As they pulled apart, Jarrod continued, “I can only stay a second, but I wanted to tell you two things.  Okay?”

“Okay.  First… I am so very proud of you for what you’ve accomplished, spiritually, over the last year.  You are an amazing person, and I’m glad to see you using that to do great things for others.”

“Thank you, J-rod?”

Jarrod smiled.  “Second… I wanted to say ‘thank you’ for what you did for Mom.  I know she and I rarely got along, and the two of you never got along.  I still love her, though, and you’ve helped make her life so much better.”

“It’s nothing,” Evan told him.

“If you say so!” Jarrod responded with a smile.

“So, are these visits going to be an annual thing?” Evan inquired.

“Unfortunately not, Love,” Jarrod responded, putting his hand on Evan’s cheek.  As usual, because of the time of day, there was a tad bit of stubble on his face.  “It would be… confusing, emotionally,” he explained.  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that humans, whether dead or alive, have an infinite capacity for love:  love for each other, for family, for those less fortunate on many levels.  Evan, I know that you love me still, and that’s okay; it’s also okay to let yourself love him, too.”

“Bobby is a lovely person,” Evan noted.

“And he makes you happier than you’ve been in a long time,” Jarrod added.

“He does.”

“So... let yourself enjoy him, and stop feeling guilty!” Jarrod smiled.  “I’ll still be with you, in your heart, but it’s time for his part of your soul to shine.  In life, we get one shot at real love; if we’re lucky, we get two, and this is your second, Gorgeous.”

Evan nodded.  “I do love him... so much.”

“Then tell him!  Don’t worry about it!  Enjoy it; enjoy him; enjoy life!” Jarrod told Evan, lifting his chin up and staring deeply into his eyes.

“Okay…” Evan noted. 

“All right...  I’ve got to go,” Jarrod said just a moment later.  They gave each other another hug, and in a flash, Jarrod was gone again. Evan breathed, “Jarrod...” but he was already gone.

Evan inhaled deeply, placed the box on the table beside the chair, and walked from the room, turning the light off as he stepped out.  As he climbed the stairs, he thought about how in the previous year, he’d found happiness in his professional life. The vacation heֹ’d taken and the volunteer work that followed made him appreciate more and more the fact that he was a great attorney.  He and Lori made an excellent legal team; they discovered that their minds worked the same way.  Personally, while he still thought of Jarrod every day, he now had another amazing man in his life, one who knew about his past and didn’t seem to mind.  By Bobby’s explanation, the past was what made them who they were in the present and who they would be in the future.  Evan loved the man as much as he had loved Jarrod, but he just hadn’t been able to tell him yet.  The conversation with Jarrod played again and again in Evan’s mind as he approached the bedroom where Bobby remained sound asleep.

Evan stepped into the bathroom to take a piss before returning to the bed.  He climbed back into his spot, and almost instantly, Bobby’s arms wrapped around him.

“I love you... Gorgeous,” Evan whispered as Bobby mumbled something before kissing the back of his neck and returning to sleep, smiling contentedly.  Evan also wore a huge grin on his face as he snuggled into his man, closed his eyes, and at long last, he rested. 

The End. 

Posted: 01/06/12