Johnny Angel

“I had to,” Bobby said with a smile, “you weren't ready.” Jim pondered the meaning of his words for a moment, and then nodded agreement.

“Maybe I wasn't. But I am now.” It was as though the last five painfully silent years had vanished in a single moment.

“I love you, Dad,” Bobby whispered as his father held him.

“I love you too, son,” Jim said, taking his hand, and the two walked up the stairs, hand in hand, and Alice watched them, feeling the true wonder of Christmas.

Chapter 11

On Christmas morning, Bobby came thundering down the stairs to find his presents under the tree, and a few minutes later, Charlotte and his parents joined them. Jim had bought Charlotte all kinds of sports equipment that she had wanted, including an automatic ball machine, so she could practice hitting that spring. It was something he knew she longed for.

And he had bought Alice a sweater set, a new coat, and a gold bracelet. And she loved all of it. She had given him a beautiful new leather briefcase, and a suede jacket he had seen and wanted. And he loved it.

Bobby got a small mountain of toys that Johnny had helped their mother pick out for him, and he loved every one of them, and was happily putting together parts, and inserting batteries to make them work five minutes later. Their gifts were all a big success. And it was only when she was cooking breakfast for all of them, the banana waffles they ate every year on Christmas morning, that Alice felt sick again. She knew it was from excitement and the nagging worry now that Johnny would soon be going. But she tried not to think of it as she served them the breakfast they loved every year. And when she turned to look at him, she noticed that Johnny was looking tired. He had done so much work for all of them that it had exhausted him, but he seemed to be in good spirits, when he stood over her, practically drooling for her waffles.

“I sure wish I could eat them, Mom,” he said, looking like a kid again, and Alice smiled at him, wishing he could too. She wished a lot of things, that he had never died, that he could stay here now, that she could hold on to him forever, but she knew she couldn't. And it wouldn't have been fair to him. He had to go on, to do what he was meant to. It was his destiny. But it didn't seem fair to her that he had died, that he had been so young when he left them.

Jim and Charlotte had second helpings of the waffles, while Bobby chattered constantly, explaining his new toys to them, how they worked, and how to assemble them, as his father smiled broadly.

“He's sure making up for lost time, isn't he?” Jim said after their children left the kitchen, except for Johnny, who was still sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying the dizzying aroma of his mother's waffles. She hadn't eaten any this year, she had just picked at them, but none of them had noticed. Except Johnny. “Why do you suppose he started talking again?” Jim asked, as he looked admiringly at her. Alice had never looked more beautiful to him, as he leaned over and kissed her. “What do you suppose did it?” he persisted about Bobby. For him, it was like the ultimate absolution. Bobby had paid for five years for his father's stupidity, and now he was free of what had seemed to Jim like a curse on all of them. It was the most perfect blessing.

“I think a miracle did it,” Alice said simply, and Jim didn't disagree with her. He was just grateful it had happened.

He went to watch a football game then, and Charlotte joined him, as Alice puttered around the kitchen, and eventually Bobby went to sit with them, dragging half his toys with him.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Johnny asked her, looking worried.

“I'm fine,” she said more out of habit than truth. She wasn't feeling terrific, but she didn't want to worry him. She knew it was her stomach again, and she hated the thought that she might be getting another ulcer. But she had no intention of saying that and ruining Christmas for him, or the others. “Honest, it's nothing.”

“I'm not as sure of that as you are,” Johnny said, sounding very grown up. “You'd better go to the doctor tomorrow.”

“I will if it still bothers me,” she promised.