Well, Joe doesn't listen very well at all, does he? I wonder if he'll get the message if he hears it from the horse's mouth, or maybe from the priest's. We'll have to see.
I hope you enjoy this installment! Drop me a line if you want. I'd be happy to hear from you.
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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
36
A Decision and a Party
The next morning was brutally difficult. Joe was distracted, lost in thought. I was struggling to bury my enthusiasm. At one point I seriously considered masochistically cutting myself to keep the grin off my face. Seven-thirty saw us pulling away from the house. Fifteen minutes later I parked in the church lot near the rectory. Joe and I waited in silence for ten minutes before we knocked on the white-painted rectory door. It jerked open as it had the previous Friday.
I had a qualm when I saw the owl-eyed old man again. I worried that he would acknowledge me in some fashion and give away the fact that I'd been there before. I quickly realized the old man acknowledged no one and stopped worrying.
"YES?" He demanded.
Joe announced us. "Joseph and Church Philips to see Father Miller."
"Members?"
"I am a member." Joe confirmed.
"Five minutes." The small man said. He stepped back and slammed the door.
"He's awfully abrupt." Joe muttered to the closed door.
I grunted words of agreement, and we waited in the sweltering heat of that late-August morning. A few minutes later, the door opened at a normal rate of speed to reveal Father Miller. "Ah, the Philips brothers," he said through a welcoming grin, "though I suppose only one of you still uses that name. Wonderful to see you both. Please come to my office and we'll talk." He shook hands and beckoned us to follow him.
When we were seated around the priest's desk, and he was leaning dangerously far back in the swivel chair, we got down to business. "What is this monumental decision you have to make, Joe?" The priest asked to open the discussion. "I would like to express that the use of your first name doesn't indicate any lack of respect despite the formality of the setting. As you are Mister Philips, and your brother is formerly Mister Philips, I think first names will avoid confusion. Agreed?"
Joe glanced at me with a curious look on his face. He seemed confused about something. "I keep forgetting you changed your name." He said like that was suddenly important to him. "You're not even a Philips anymore. It's like you're more Shawn's husband than you are my brother."
I shook my head at Joe. "He didn't steal me." I realized what I'd said with some embarrassment and corrected myself. "I mean...I guess that's exactly what he did, but he brought me back. It's just a name."
Joe objected to my reasoning. "But...but it's your family name."
I shook my head again. "I'm still your brother. I mean, even The Bible says that a man must leave his family and cleave to his spouse."
Father Miller entered the discussion with some trivia. "That's Genesis, chapter two, verse twenty-four."
Joe turned to Father Miller but pointed at me. "He's a MAN!" Joe insisted. "They're both MEN!"
Father Miller leaned forward, his swivel chair creaking as he moved toward us. "They're happy, Joe. Isn't it wonderful that your brother is happy?"
Joe seemed taken aback that Father Miller would take my side of the argument. "But...but it's a sin." He objected. "Isn't it a sin?"
"If it is," Father Miller asked, "who is your brother hurting by committing this sin? In my experience, sin is about causing harm, be that harm to another, to God, or to oneself. Church's sin, if indeed that's what it is, harms no one. In fact, it brings happiness to him and to his husband. It should bring happiness to those that love him because he has found love. By what authority do you presume to judge him, Joe?"
Joe was still taken aback. "I...I don't have any authority, Father."
"If you have no authority," Father Miller said as he leaned back in his chair, "then, voice no judgement. If Church has sinned, indeed if he is sinning, he will be judged for it when he inevitably stands before God. In the meantime, judge him not, lest ye be judged. That's Matthew seven, verse one." The priest shook his large head and smiled a little. "You haven't come here to talk about that, have you Joe? Why not get to the point?"
It took everything I had to keep the beaming smile from my face. I couldn't believe that Father Miller had taken the side in favor of a same-sex union. I knew full well that what the man said flew in the face of the Catholic Church's position on the matter. I appreciated that, as a priest, Father Miller couldn't say that it wasn't a sin, only that Joe had no right to judge me for it. He'd navigated that very neatly. I thought that the priest might have made a good lawyer, and therefore was a good opponent for Joe.
Joe seemed to accept his defeat at Father Miller's hands. He heaved a breath and got to his point. "Father, you know my situation, my illness. My brother has offered me a chance at a cure. Unfortunately, he cannot bring the cure to me, I have to travel to it. The land it's in is a Godless land. It's not an evil place, but it's strictly secular. If I go, I may not return, my son may not return, and any children he may father, will grow up in this secular land. Do I damn myself, my son, and the future generations of my family if I go there?"
`Finally!' I thought as Joe laid out his worries. I'd assumed that the idea of leaving the faith behind on Earth was what Joe was concerned about, but he'd never actually said. Now I knew for certain, and I was even more certain that Father Miller would be able to help.
As Joe spoke, Father Miller leaned all the way forward and was almost out of his chair again. I wondered if he ever got seasick with all the back and forth. He started back again before he answered. "Joe, lying is a sin, you know that. Why did you come here to lie to me? Even a lie of omission is a sin. If you have no respect for me as a man, you should respect my position as a priest enough not to sit in my office and deliberately lie to me." Father Miller said it calmly, but very firmly. I assumed his words were part of a tactic he was using on Joe, but I didn't know what it was.
Joe was surprised, shocked. "I didn't...I mean, Father...I haven't..."
A broad smile spread across the priest's expressive face. "I'm having a little fun with you, Joe. This is the only time I've ever seen you speechless. Time to lay the cards on the table as the man once said. Church was here on Friday. He was here for most of a long day. He's desperately worried about you, so much that he told me his entire story. He even proved it to my satisfaction and asked for my help."
Father Miller settled in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "I agreed to research the matter and promised that if I could reconcile myself to the course of action he hoped for, I would make every effort to persuade you. The only thing I needed was time to work. Church and his husband continued to worry while I researched. They went for a walk on Saturday and wound up here without meaning to. Already here, they visited to see what progress I was making. Shawn was nice enough to cure my diabetes during the visit."
Father Miller paused for a glance at me. He seemed like he wanted to say something about the visit that Shawn and I had paid him, but he swallowed it and went on with the topic at hand. "That is another matter for another time, though. After they left, I found what I was looking for. I found the chapters of the Gospel according to Luke that I referred to yesterday in my sermon. If you would have bothered to listen to the sermon yesterday, you would know what my advice will be. Clearly you didn't, so I will give it to you directly."
Father Miller stood and clasped his hands in front of himself to give his answer. "Go with your brother and get well. If you stay, it's up to you to remain faithful. It will be difficult, but you can do it. If you decide to return here, return and tell me all about it. To give Solum a fair chance, stay for one year, see what it's like, immerse yourself in the culture. At the end of one year, decide what's right for you and Andy. If you wish, I will look after your home while you're away. After all, who is more trustworthy than a priest?"
Father Miller finished his speech and sat. He started his backward journey as the chair creaked in protest. Joe looked like he'd been slapped. When he found his voice, he directed it at me. "You want me to come with you badly enough to expose your secrets? You came to church, and spent the day talking to a priest...for me?"
"Is that so surprising, Joe?" I asked. At first, I was disappointed that Joe was surprised at how far I was willing to go to make sure that he got the help that he needed, but then I remembered that we'd never been as close as brothers should be. I ignored my hurt feelings and gave Joe a pass. I hoped we'd eventually get to a place in our relationship when actions like the ones I'd taken wouldn't surprise Joe.
I tried to explain myself to him, so he'd understand. "You're my brother and I love you. I want you to be well, Andy wants you well, Father Miller wants you well. You've been worrying about damnation, and we've all been worrying about you. If it helps, I'll keep the faith with you, and I know Mary will. Bem probably will to when she gets done with him. I'll have a chapel built if it helps. I refuse to let you proselytize, but I don't plan to muzzle you either. The Father's plan is perfect; come, get well, and stay for a year. After that, re-evaluate. If you need to come back, we'll bring you."
"Is it acceptable, Father? Can I be faithful on my own?" Joe asked the priest like he was begging for permission.
"You can," Father Miller said, though his voice sounded like he was hedging his answer, "but it doesn't sound like you'll have to. Your family and friends are committed to helping, even your atheist brother. Maybe he is your mission. You've been worried about your own soul. What will happen to Church if you don't go with him? How does it feel to find out you've been selfish?" Father Miller scolded with an elbow to the air and a covert wink to me.
"I didn't mean to." Joe said in a small voice.
"Well?" Father Miller demanded. "What's it to be?"
Joe was silent for a long moment. I couldn't imagine he had much to think about after all this, but he was famous for considering every possible angle. Father Miller was literally on the edge of his seat and so was I. Finally, Joe looked up and his eyes focused. "When do we leave?" He asked.
"HORRAY!" I shouted and jumped up to shake my co-conspirator's hand. Joe stood to shake hands but didn't get a chance. I grabbed him in a hug, pulled him off his feet, and danced him around the room while Joe protested, and Father Miller roared with laughter. I was over the moon with relief. Shawn had been right again, everything was fine. I finished spinning my brother around the office and set him back down in his place in front of one of the visitor's chairs.
Father Miller finished laughing and shook his head at his desk. He pulled the large, flat center drawer out and retrieved a battered volume that was bound in coarse brown canvas with no title visible on the cover. He passed the book to Joe. "This book outlines procedures for personal devotions without the ceremony of a formal mass. I've had it a very long time and it wasn't new when I got it. I hope that it helps you as much as it did me."
Joe accepted the small book and gave it a quick look over. He shifted it to his left hand and offered the priest his right. "Thank you, Father, for everything." Joe said as he was finally able to shake hands.
I took Father Miller's hand as soon as Joe released it. "Yes, thank you, Father. You've made me a very happy man, words I never thought I'd say to someone wearing that collar."
"You're very welcome, both of you. Now, you've turned my life upside down and kept me from my work for days. Get out of my office so I can return to my reality and dig myself out of this pile of ignored paperwork." He scolded with a broad, incongruous, smile. "See me before you go. I'll bless you all before the journey."
Stewart was called and Joe and I were ushered out into the sauna that was the entire outdoors.
I drove home as quickly as I could and parked in front of the house. Andy burst through the front door and charged down the walk while Joe struggled out of the car. "Is it true?" Andy asked and seemed barely able to contain himself.
"Is what true?" Joe asked back without offering any hints.
Andy was bursting with excitement. "Shawn said Church was happy, something good must have happened. Is it true, are we going?"
"Stop torturing the poor kid!" I scolded Joe across the car. "It's true, Andy. Plan to leave at the end of this week."
"BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!" Andy shouted and almost knocked his father over with a hug.
Shawn came through the front door and waved. I gave him the thumbs up, and he waved me into the house. I went to Shawn and left Joe and Andy to catch up outside. Mary and Bem were at the dining room table, watching the twins through the sliding glass doors as they ran through a sprinkler in the backyard. My sister and my friend spun with questioning looks as the storm door banged closed behind me.
"The car is going to be VERY crowded on the way back." I said through the smile I hadn't been able to relax since Joe and I had left the rectory.
"I'M SO HAPPY!" Mary shouted and jumped up with hugs for everyone. "I knew you could make him come." She said and whacked my arm hard enough that it stung.
I rubbed my arm and shook my head at what I considered to be misdirected praise. "I just put the right person in front of him to guide the decision. No one `makes' Joe do anything in my experience."
"Congratulations." Bem shook my hand. "I know that you've been worried about this. I'm glad it's settled."
Joe and Andy came in from the outside and we congratulated each other a few more times before we got down to serious discussion. I asked everyone to gather at the dining room table for a little talk.
"We need to figure some stuff out." I said to premise a small speech I wanted to make. "I'd like to leave here no later than Saturday morning very early. It's important we arrive on Solum while it's still dark so we can get the Vic to The Hall without it being seen. It's an hour drive from the mountain road to The Hall and it's forty-five minutes from here to the Girard Point Bridge. The sun rises there at the same time it does here, say around six-thirty. Allowing some time for unforeseens, we need to leave here no later than four-thirty, but I'd prefer four. Having to change a tire on a main road in the capital would be a big problem for all of us if the sun was out."
Joe's suspicious nature latched onto my time concerns, and he jumped to the wrong conclusions. "Why? What's the problem? Will we be arrested for changing a tire? What kind of place are you taking us?"
"NO!" I shouted. I was exasperated that Joe's suspicions remained despite his decision to come with us. "The problem is appearance. There are no '86 Crown Vics on Solum. There aren't even any vehicles powered by gasoline. The clothes there are also different. I mean, we could show up at noon and drive right through the center of the city to The HALL, but we'd probably end up on the news. It will be easier to assimilate into society if we don't show up like Area 51 aliens."
"Oh, that's OK then." Joe graciously conceded.
I ran a few sarcastic remarks through my head but didn't let any of them out. Instead, I looked to Shawn for some thoughts on first steps once we got there. "We have to go to The HALL first to drop the Vic off. I suppose we should see your uncle before we do anything else. He'll need to come up with identification for everyone and I'm sure he'll want to meet the group, Joe especially."
"That makes sense." Shawn agreed. "We'll have to run out for clothes for everyone, except maybe the twins. They're already bright enough to fit in. Then we'll need a place for everyone to stay, probably a hotel with a couple big suites. We should probably book into the Capital Hotel. Once we get moved-in and sort out the attire, we'll find a neurologist for Joe. It's going to be a busy few-days getting everyone settled. We'll also have to figure out long-term living arrangements and how we're going to deal with schooling. I think everyone will need tutors for a while before jumping into the regular school system. The adults might benefit from a few classes as well, to avoid any embarrassing knowledge gaps."
"Can't we stay with you and Shawn?" Andy asked me and managed to sound super put-out that the plans Shawn explained didn't involve everyone moving in with us.
"We live in a studio apartment." I explained. "Money isn't the issue, we could live in a palace, but the apartment has always been enough." I thought about what I said and made a suggestion to Shawn. "We should get a suite next to theirs for a few weeks. These guys are going to need a tour guide for a while. Maybe we'll see if Met or maybe your mother can help out."
"I agree. Once Uncle gets the IDs sorted, we can load funds for everyone. Until then, and until the group starts to get the routine and geography down, we'll need to be very close."
"I WILL make my own living." Joe snarled at me. I assumed that was his way of taking issue with my offer of funds.
I wanted to shout at him for being a prick, but I didn't see the point. Joe was Joe and nothing would change that. I swallowed more snide remarks and presented some regular remarks that I hoped wouldn't lead to disagreement. "I assumed you would want to make your own way, Joe, but you're going to need some start-up money. I'm not talking about `keeping' you. I'd like you to consider it a gift, but if it makes you happy, you could see it as a loan toward the success of your new life. OK?"
"OK, then." Joe conceded.
My mind filled with more snide remarks that I was in the middle of trying to swallow when Bem chimed in on behalf of my sister and the girls. "You guys worry about Andy and Joe." He said. He reached for and took Mary's hand on the tabletop as he made his offer. "I'll be Mary's guide."
"That's a big help, Bem. I appreciate it." I replied enthusiastically. I was thrilled that Bem's comment put an effective end to the conversation about Joe's pride. I also would have agreed to anything Bem offered that would draw him and my sister closer together.
"If we're all going in the same car, there won't be much room. What will we do about luggage?" Mary asked. She was sensibly focused on practical concerns, and I appreciated it.
"There isn't much you'll be able to bring with you." I explained. "Everyone gets one carry on. Whatever doesn't fit in the trunk will need to go on your laps. As I said, the clothing styles there are completely different, so you won't need to bring outfits. We can get consumables there, so don't bring toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, and stuff like that. Electronics won't work because of the power difference. Your cell phones won't work, they're no provider that will link with them."
I took a moment to meet everyone's eyes with mine so I could make sure they were paying attention. "You should bring anything that means a great deal to you. Any sentimental memento that you can't bear to live without. All the other basics of life can be purchased there. I understand this will mean some difficult decisions for all of you. If you're worried about anything, come see me and maybe we can work something out."
I paused and shifted gears to something more serious than luggage. "You all need to understand that, when we leave here at the end of the week, it's for good. Joe made one condition before he agreed to come with us, if he's not happy after one year, he reserves the right to return here. I'll give everyone that same option. After one year, anyone who is not happy can come back, but if they make that choice, it's for good as well. Whatever you take with you will be the only artifact of this world you're ever likely to have, so choose carefully."
"That actually makes everything easier." Mary admitted. "I have myself, my children, my new friend," she put a quick peck on Bem's cheek, "my bible, rosary, and photo album. I can't think of another thing I need if I'm starting my life over."
"Photo album?" Bem perked up at the mention of the old-fashioned collection of memories.
"Yes, it's a book with pictures in it." Mary whacked Bem's forearm with an excited hand. "I'll show you later on. You'll love it!"
I waited for Bem and Mary to settle down before I went on like the interruption hadn't happened. "You've got the right attitude, Mary. You're starting over. It would probably be far better to have less tying you to this life than more." I was glad that my sister was setting a good example. "One more thing while I'm on this subject, we need a cover story that would explain us all leaving and that leaves the possibility open for some of us to come back. What do we tell people? Joe's ALS gives us a plausible excuse for traveling. We can say we're going somewhere so he can get treatment, but where is that?"
We tossed ideas around, well, all of us did except Joe. He didn't approve of lying for any reason. I wasn't overly concerned as he was still immobile enough that he'd be sticking close to the house until we left. The odds of him running into anyone outside of the family were slim.
The rest of us decided to say that we were going to Sidney, Australia for a year. It was far enough away that no one would expect us to return for a visit, it was on the opposite side of the world so calls would be expensive, and the time difference meant that calls would also be inconvenient. There was the added complication of international cell phone coverage and other miscellaneous difficulties. Our biggest defense was the principle of out of sight, out of mind. If anyone did decide to return after a year, they could read a book on Australia to come up with plausible lies to tell anyone who asked what it was like.
With that settled, the topic of what to do with Joe's house and assets came up. "Joe, you'll have to figure out how you want to leave everything here." I said and offered a suggestion. "Father Miller agreed to look after the place. Maybe open a separate bank account he can access to pay the bills and taxes for a year. After that, if nobody comes back, maybe donate everything to the church. That's your business, I'm just thinking out loud. If he is going to look after things, we should invite him over for dinner or something one night this week to go over the arrangements."
"That's a good idea all around." Joe nodded and cast his eyes around the dining room like it might be the last time he'd see the place. "I could leave everything in his hands. Donating the house, its contents, and any assets to the church would be a nice gesture and a good thank you for all his help. I'll start the paperwork and the banking end of things. We can invite him over on Wednesday or Thursday. I'll get the formalities finished between today and tomorrow."
Mary spoke up with her own contribution to the discussion. "I'm going to pay off and cancel my credit cards so Ezekiel can't try to use them and then I'll transfer whatever is left to you, Joe. I don't need it and I don't want my ex-husband to get it. Father Miller is welcome to it."
"What do you want me to do with the money if I come back here?" Joe asked.
"You won't." Mary insisted. "If Solum is half the place Church says it is, you'd be a fool to return. You're a lot of things, but a fool isn't one of them."
"Answer the question, Mary." Joe pressed with his voice full of exasperation. "I want to be prepared for all possible outcomes."
Mary waved a vague hand in the air like she couldn't be bothered to think about the money. "Keep it, give it away, buy lottery tickets, paper the walls with it, I don't care what you do. If you're idiot enough to come back to this place, it's yours and welcome to it."
The discussion seemed to be souring and the last thing I wanted was friction. Usually, arguments between Joe and Mary didn't bother me. I always figured that if they were fighting each other, they weren't fighting me. As Joe's decision to go to Solum was still very fresh, I didn't want anything to happen that could jeopardize it. Negative emotions were bad for the harmony of the household. I jumped into the fray with a diversion. "Time for lunch. Who wants to help me get the lunch? Clear the table and put some plates out. Lunchtime." I said loudly and rapidly in the hopes that I could break up what wasn't quite an argument but was well on its way to becoming one.
It worked. No one pursued the conversation and the group moved in opposite directions to get the meal on the table or, in Joe's case, to work on the paperwork for the house and assets. While I was moving through to the kitchen, I locked eyes with Bem and jerked my head toward Andy. He took the hint and approached the boy for a conversation.
"Bem is taking me to the arcade!" Andy announced as we sat to eat. "Does anyone else have time to go with us?"
"Sorry son," Joe spoke up with his regrets, "I have to get this paperwork done, and Mary needs to look after the girls, but Church doesn't have anything to do. He could go with you."
"Don't you need my help here?" I asked suggestively.
"I don't think that will be necessary if Shawn can stay. Shawn?" Joe asked.
"Sure, I can help." Shawn readily agreed. "You guys have fun."
Andy ran upstairs to get something. I stared Joe down, half angry and half confused that he'd maneuvered me into going with Andy and Bem. "What the..." I started when Joe broke in.
"Just go, he has fun with you. We can handle the preparations and Mary can get the cake with my car. You can't cook seafood, wrap presents, or decorate worth beans anyway." He said through a malicious grin.
`He's right on all counts.' I thought, though I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of agreeing. I turned to Shawn to try to understand his decision to stay behind. "You don't want to come?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Joe's right, Andy has fun with you, and we know he enjoys spending time with Bem. I'm not much for video games but I am good at wrapping presents and decorating."
His mention of presents lit the dim bulb that lives in my head, and I panicked. "SHIT, THE PRESENTS!" I whisper-shouted to Shawn. I fumbled the car keys from my pocket and handed them over. Shawn understood what needed to happen. He grabbed the keys and took off in a run.
I watched him out the front window as he hustled to the car and opened the trunk. Shawn got the gifts out and shut the trunk. He paused for a second because he didn't know what to do with the keys. He dropped them on the trunk lid and was out of sight on his way around the house by the time Andy bounded down the steps.
The three of us, Bem, Andy, and I, strode out into the close afternoon, got in the car, and headed to the Family Fun Center. This one had mini-golf, bumper boats, go carts, laser tag, and a massive arcade. We walked in and I went right to the refreshment stand where I talked the kid behind the counter out of three plastic cups. I shoved two fifty-dollar bills in the change machine, separated the quarters into the cups, and handed one each to Andy and Bem.
"This is a trick I learned from old ladies at the casinos in Atlantic City." I explained to the confused faces of the guys. Bem didn't know what I was talking about, and Andy had only a vague idea. They were both nice enough to ignore my eccentricity and not ask for explanation.
We spent the next hours on racing games, skee ball, whack-a-mole, air hockey, fighting games, and more racing games. Andy kept pressing Bem to play one of the many shooting games, but he wouldn't. I understood why. Bem didn't like the idea of pointing a gun, even a plastic one, at anything shaped like a person. He hoped that part of his life was finished forever. I had an idea that maybe an exhibition of skill would quiet Andy's constant requests. One of the shooting games had a target mode that Bem agreed to play once. I pushed some change into the machine and set it up for a single player.
Bem used the first round to get the feel of the weapon, and his score was mediocre at best. In the second round he blasted the red center out of every target on the screen, and he did it with condescending nonchalance. During the third round, a bonus round, he stood back as far as the tether on the gun would let him and blasted the rapidly moving targets with the same complete ease. That was the last round. Bem shot the letters of his name for the game's high-score list, holstered the weapon in the console, and wiped his hands on his pants like he'd just touched something vile.
Andy was amazed. "WOW! Now I see why you wouldn't play these with me. I wouldn't have a chance. You're incredible!"
"That's part of it. I just don't like guns." Bem admitted in a low tone while deliberately not looking at anyone.
"But you're a soldier." Andy objected. "That doesn't make sense."
Bem took a deep breath and looked at Andy like he was trying to gauge how much he could admit to the boy without risking their budding friendship. "I'm almost eighty years old, Andy. For most of my life, fifty-three years of it, I was in the military. I've seen too much of what guns can do to people to like them. I respect them as tools, but I hate their purpose."
Andy's face scrunched into a worried grimace. "I'm sorry." The boy said soberly. "I shouldn't have asked."
"Nothing to be sorry for, you couldn't know. That's why I just told you. That part of my life is over now, and your uncle and Shawn are two of the main reasons why. They did a great big thing for me without even realizing they were doing it. I could never truly thank them for it." Bem said with a rare display of emotion.
I added my two cents to the discussion. "Your friend Bem deprecates what he's done for me. He doesn't understand that if we were throwing acts of kindness onto a set of scales, his side would be far heavier than mine." I explained to Andy without really explaining anything.
Andy looked between Bem and me. He searched our faces with his. He was obviously looking for more information that I didn't plan to provide. "You won't tell me, will you?" The boy asked as he drew the logical conclusion.
"It's just something that you don't need to know." I said and hoped the boy wouldn't think we were treating him like a kid. "The world, this one and Solum, they're both beautiful places, but they have some dark spots. Bem and I have had to deal with some of that darkness, but it's nothing we like to advertise or even to talk about. We might explain some day, but you'll need to be much older. OK?"
"OK, Uncle Church."
I looked to Bem to see how he'd taken my words. I hoped that he wouldn't think I was minimizing the decades he'd spent as a problem solver by including myself in the conversation about the dark spots of civilization. I'd killed one senseless immortal king and indirectly brought about the death of one immortal physician who'd begged me to do what I did. Bem had been involved with the death of close to three-hundred enemies of the state and the incarceration of many more. I hadn't meant to minimize what he did or aggrandize what I did. I'd included myself as a way to avoid singling Bem out.
Bem dipped his head in what I took to be a gesture of appreciation and I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. The discussion we'd had the other morning when he revealed his past to me, reminded me how much I loved the man. I wouldn't want to hurt him for anything. I was glad for the nod he gave me.
"What time is it?" I asked to start a new subject. Andy checked his phone and reported it was just after four.
"I think we've played everything here at least once." I said with a confirming glance around the arcade. "Are you guys ready?" Bem and Andy answered in the affirmative, so we left.
As we exited the Family Fun Center, we discovered the heat and humidity outside were even worse than when we went in. The air was absolutely still. I realized that something was coming. Weather that calm always foretold approaching violence. I noticed it but didn't think much about it. Andy's birthday was foremost on my mind.
"Andy, text your father and let him know we just left. He may have something for us to pick up on the way home." I didn't anticipate having to pick anything up, but I wanted to signal to Joe that we'd be at the house in a half hour unless he `waved us off.' It was my way of providing the option for him to ask for more time if the house wasn't ready. Andy texted and reported we were to come straight home.
I parked in front of the house about thirty minutes later and we all clambered out. I dawdled to let Andy get to the front door first. When he opened it, five voices yelled SURPRISE!' Andy was staggered by the noise and the sight of the bright decorations. The living room and dining room were decorated to the hilt with balloons, streamers, crepe paper, and a big foil Happy Birthday' banner. The art supplies we'd bought were laid out on the dining room table surrounded by cards and other small novelties. The pungent odor of roasting and frying fish filled the house. Andy was beside himself. He was immediately drawn to the art supplies like a paper clip to a magnet. He opened, scrutinized, and lovingly caressed every case and pad.
"Thanks everybody! This stuff is great. There's a lot here, will I be able to take it with me?" Andy asked with obvious worry.
"It'll come with you." I promised. "It's all flat. We did that on purpose."
"I can't wait to get started." Andy gushed enthusiasm. "Once I see the clothes on Solum, I'll start fresh with new designs."
I was surprised that Andy had mentioned his work in front of the group. I wondered if it was a slip, or if maybe he was getting comfortable with the idea of sharing his talent. I helped him gather the supplies off the table to make way for dinner.
I was probably as excited as he was. I had so many plans for him. The sentence `Is that an Andy Philips?' kept revolving in my mind. I didn't say anything. We weren't there yet and there would be plenty of time when we were.
That dinner was the first truly relaxed meal I'd had since we'd arrived on Earth. It seemed like all the major problems were solved. Everyone was planning on going with us, we were celebrating a happy event, there was no animosity or worry left. Mary and her sous chef, Shawn had done a great job on dinner. Even I enjoyed the fish feast.
When we were all stuffed to the gills (pun intended), there was a slow clean-up effort and then cake. I lit the candles with a kitchen match, we sang `Happy Birthday,' and Andy was told to make a wish. He looked around, from one end of the table to the other, smiled broadly and said, "I don't have anything left to wish for," then he blew them out.
The rest of the celebration went very well. We ate too much, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company. Even Joe's normally reserved demeanor broke, and he carried on with the rest of us. It was almost too good to be true.