Part 4: All it takes is one good deed to turn things around.

Author Note: From here on out no more sex, I learned my lesson

By the time he was across the street from Wal-Mart, Bill had devised a plan. “I’ll just call home collect,” he spoke out loud, even though there was no one around to hear him. “I’ll talk to mom or dad, see if things calmed down. They’ve got to be worried about me after a full day. All I have to do is explain that I can’t go back to being a boy, not full time at least. If they tell me I must, then I’ll just have to stay with Ronnie and get use to his way of life, but I’m sure I can reach a compromise with dad. Then, when I see Ronnie, I’ll just tell him what’s up and he should be happy for what he had. I’ll let him know that I won’t tell a soul about what we did and maybe Christmas will turn out okay.”

Feeling a sense of resolve, Bill crossed the six lane highway and cut through a nearly vacant parking lot of an Apple-Bee’s that was just closing before coming to the larger parking lot of Wal-Mart. Thankfully the lights were on and there was some evidence that the store was still open. Bill was eager to get inside, not only to be free from the cold, but also to make the phone call that would hopefully raise his spirits from the gutter and restore his life to something good and wholesome.

A pregnant woman with her arms full of a box of diapers and who knows how many bags was pushing a baby carriage along the long dark asphalt. Bill noticed her almost immediately and figured doing a few good deeds might help earn him a few points towards forgiveness in God’s eyes. Even if he had all the points he needed for sainthood, the teen would still be making his way towards her. He walked towards the woman, figuring she was desperate for the help. He was a little way off, but was closing the gap rapidly.

Without warning, the pregnant woman let out a wail. Bill recognized it as the sound of agony, the sound that he himself was making while on the floor of a stranger’s bedroom, only this woman’s noise displayed a pain a thousand times greater. The pregnant woman fell to the icy ground in a heap, her packages falling wherever they may, strewn all over the small area of the parking lot. The baby carriage rolled until it came to rest in the middle of the main lain that led driver’s to the store’s exit. A large pick-up was at that time heading down that way, its driver gave no indication that he saw what had transpired as he casually made his way around the curve and towards the carriage.

“Oh no,” Bill said as he picked up his pace. He couldn’t flat out run because of the slippery ground and his boots wouldn’t allow for great traction, but he had time. There was no great train dodge coming up. He reached the carriage in plenty of time and pushed it gently so it would be out of harms way. Pushing the heavier than expected baby carriage had an adverse effect on his balance though, and he was glad he didn’t grab the rail of the buggy or the baby might have been hurt. As he slipped, he tried to regain his balance. The trucks headlights fell on him and to a casual observer, the scene would’ve looked like a ballerina under the spotlights while Bill performed an awkward pirouette, spinning counter clockwise before he himself fell onto the cold asphalt with a thud, hurting his knees and palms in the process.

“Watch out,” a man yelled from the parking lot of the restaurant as he made his way towards the scene.

The drive of the pick-up caught sight of the teen and slammed on his brakes. The sound of the screeching tires filled the air. Under normal circumstances, the vehicle would’ve stopped in plenty of time, but the icy road made the vehicle skid much further than it normally would. The driver cut the wheel, but the truck didn’t deviate from its path.

Bill tried to get up and out of the way, but only managed to slip and fall again. For the second time that night, Bill found himself on his hands and knees, knowing that pain was on its way. He looked to the side, towards the lights of the oncoming pickup truck. For a second he was blinded by the high beams, but soon he was out of the path of the headlights as the truck got perilously closer. The last thing he saw was the large, unfriendly, chrome metal bumper just prior to impact.

The force of the blow caused the teens body to roll down the asphalt almost two feet before coming to rest on the curb with a loud, audible crack as the back of Bill’s skull hit the pavement.

The man from the truck jumped out of the warm cab. He raised his arms and eyes to the heavens. “Why dear God,” he cried out loud, “why?” The tears streamed down the man’s face as he was at a loss of what to do. He ran to the victim’s side, hoping that whatever damage he did was minimal.

The pregnant woman’s husband, who had yelled from the restaurant, was on the scene. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911 to request two ambulances. He hurried to his wife’s side who was still groaning in pain and lying of the ground.

Bill opened his eyes. “Ouch,” he said and then realized that he wasn’t in any pain at all. It was odd, but he was no longer cold either and when he exhaled, he didn’t see his breath turn into little while puffs in front of his face. He made his way to his feet, here the ice didn’t hinder him, as if it had no control over his movements whatsoever. For a moment he didn’t hear a sound, the entire world was silent, until he turned and looked at the sight of the terrible accident fifteen feet way.

Snow was falling. Big, white, fluffy, silent flakes of snow came from the sky. It would be a white Christmas after all. The ground and the scene of the accident was speckled with white, as if God Himself was trying to erase the evidence of the event.

Bill grinned. It was the first time he felt at peace for a long time. He couldn’t understand what he was so happy about, but decided not to reflect on such things, in case thinking of such would drive the feeling away. Perhaps, he finally reasoned before turning his thoughts elsewhere, it was the magic of Christmas. That always put him in a good mood year in and year out, no matter how poorly he was feeling. Something about the birth of a savior and the knowledge the even 2000 years ago, God, in someway, was thinking of him. The silly grin on his face refused to fade.

The teen walked over to the baby carriage first, silence still filled the world, as if all the Earth was still and at rest. The carriage was draped in a soft plastic shell, no doubt to keep the wind, cold, and snow from affecting the baby. Bill put his hands on the white bar in front, careful not to rock the buggy and wake the sleeping infant. The teen sighed; the sleeping child was all of sixteen months old, wrapped under a few layers of pink and white blankets. Bill looked at the face, the small button nose, the rosy red cheeks, and the thumb in the mouth that seemed to pacify the baby. A small white teddy bear was clutched in the infant’s other hand, as with the child, the toy’s head was the only thing shown to the world from beneath the covers. In an instant Bill knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the child was a girl Though all the external clues supported this fact, namely the amount of pink, Bill somehow knew the child’s gender for certain, though he wondered why it mattered to him so much.

“So, you’re the life I saved, huh?” Bill said with the utmost conviction that his words, the only noise to fill the air, was as much the truth as his knowing the infant’s gender. He stared at the child a moment longer. A warmth filled his entire being and the gentle feeling of pinpricks encompassed his entire body. The boy closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him. Finally, the feeling his earlier sins were being washed away by the sensation came over him. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He could literally feel his body emitting a glow of peace, an aura of harmony.

Bill let the sleeping baby rest and turned away. He rushed to the woman’s side, hoping she too was safe. The sound of their world came to him, as if he was distinctly aware of what they were paying heed to. The sound of distant sirens filled the still night air. He woman’s howls joined with them in symphony.

“The ambulance is on the way, Honey,” the husband reassured his wife as he held her hand. “Just hold on tight. I’m here.”

“I’m scared baby,” the pregnant woman cried. “So scared.” Her teeth chattered. “It’s too early for this baby, far too early. Something’s wrong. It’s only been seven and a half months.” She rested her head on her husband’s lap, her eyes looked up directly at Bill, but she made no motion that she even saw him. The woman looked as if she was looking through the boy that saved her child’s life, looking somewhere in the distant sky, perhaps a far off star that promised life. The boy took no offense.

Bill bowed his head reverently. “Please God, don’t let her lose her baby, not on Christmas, please?” the teen prayed earnestly as he heard the woman cry out in both pain and grief. For a moment the boy frowned, but held onto hope.

In front of the pick-up, another man was crying. Bill became aware of his tears and pleas. “Dear God, no,” the husky man cried out to Heaven. “Not tonight, dear Lord. Any night but tonight.”

Bill made his way over to the hood of the truck. The large man was on his knees, wearing nothing on his back but a thick plaid flannel shirt and a thermal shirt just underneath. His thick winter coat was spread over something in front of him. Something Bill knew that he himself must see, but in the back of his mind he already knew what and who it was. But still, he needed to see for himself.

The thick cotton trench coat was black. It was lying on the ground covering a small lump. The coat was of good quality, Bill thought as he made his way between the man and what the man knelt in front of. The wool was thick, designed to keep even the nastiest of chills away. The boy touched the garment just to confirm his suspicion. The lights from an oncoming ambulance lit the area further. Although the siren was blaring when Bill looked up to acknowledge its presence, the sound vanished when the teen returned his gaze back to the coat and to the item that it covered.

Though the coat was covering most of the object, a part stuck out from above a row of buttons. Bill walked over to get a better view. Though he thought he should be in shock by what he saw, for some reason beyond conventional wisdom, the teen wasn’t. Bill was looking down upon himself. Perhaps not himself, but the shell that he inhabited., The face was just as he always saw it in the mirror, except for the snowflakes that stuck to his hair and to the lashes of his closed eyes. The face was a bit paler than usual and the lips seemed a darker shade of red. A small trickle of blood ran down from the corner of the body’s mouth and looked like the extent of the injuries, though Bill was certain there were more.

“I’m dead,” Bill said matter of factly. His words were not completely void of emotion; for certain he felt a twinge of grief and loss. They were spoken from the same knowledge that there was nothing he could do to change things. Death was just a natural part of life, albeit the natural ending of a life in his case.

“That’s right,” a soft melodic voice said from behind him. “As of Midnight, Christmas morn, William Joseph Cohen Junior passed away and his spirit became free of the trappings of his earthly body.

Bill cautiously turned around, wondering if he would meet an angel or demon. He looked upon the scantily clad figure draped in a sheer white gown. He looked confusedly on the figure that was neither male nor female, but was somehow neither and both in the same instance. “Where do I go from here?” the boy asked casually. The question was far from philosophical, considering his past day’s worth of activity. The answer to where the teen would spend eternity was in doubt and a slight fear filled his being. As if he didn’t regret his previous actions enough, now there was an added dimension to the whole equation.

“There’s no reason to be afraid, child, but there is much to do and to see before you arrive at your next life,” the angel said, its voice was a sing-song of a whisper that Bill knew could only speak the truth in its strictest form.

The teen walked slowly to the heavenly being, his eyes watching as the snow traveled through the angel’s body as if it weren’t even there. When he was close enough, Bill turned his gaze to the Heavenly host’s eyes. They were gold, a solid gold that could not be mistaken for brown even if one tried. But the golden eyes were almost translucent and had a sparkle in them as if they were a diamond or a gem that was even more precious.

The angel wrapped its gown covered arm around the child, engulfing the teen with the sheer material. In one instant the scene around them vanished and the next they were in the den of the Cohen’s home. Bill’s home, exactly the way it was when he left, his parents hadn’t canceled Christmas yet. Bill didn’t need to be told, but he knew that he was both unseen and unheard. He was merely the audience of the movie called life.

William was standing at the window, still peering out as he had been for hours. There were no more phone calls to be made, no streets to drive down, no more prayers that he could utter. It was Christmas day, his child’s gifts lay unopened even though it was tradition to unwrap them when the clock struck midnight. William expected any moment now, his son would come strolling down the road and things would be resolved someway or another.

Gail stepped behind her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Any sign of him?” she asked in a whisper.

William grabbed his wife’s hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed it softly. “I don’t know where he could’ve gone. I’ve called friends; I checked at the bus station, went to all the regular hang outs. It’s like he vanished. Maybe the cop was right, maybe he has been selling himself all along.” William felt his anger rise. “Maybe he’s out there right now with some disgusting fat slob, just to earn money for a motel room. Where did we go wrong? How could I let this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Gail sighed. “But, I think I believe him when he said it was a mistake. I mean despite him thinking that he’s a girl, we raised him right. He knows good from bad, right from wrong. Besides, he worked so many jobs on the side; I don’t think he would give up all his freedom if he was making money that way. Bill was only confused about what he was, but he always knew what was expected out of a Cohen and wouldn’t commit such a sin. We have to believe that until it’s proven otherwise.”

Bill watched and listened and felt a bit guilty considering what he’d done the prior day.

“I hope you’re right,” William said as he nodded his head in agreement. “I wish I’d handled things better. I wish I didn’t go off the deep end and hit him. We could’ve talked it out, could’ve seen him through this phase.”

The house fell silent for a moment as both parents stared out the window. A police cruiser turned onto the street and then made its way to the front of the Cohen’s house. Both William and Gail watched as the officer left his police cruiser.

“If he was at that action again and got arrested,” William seethed, “I’m telling them to leave him in jail for his own good.”

Gail watched the officer approach. Her body tensed and her face filled with fear as if she already knew the reason for the late hour visit.

The doorbell rang. The two tones that were normally pleasant, sounded eerie so late at night.

William marched stoically to the door. No matter what, he knew an officer coming to his house at such a late hour on Christmas day could only be bringing bad news. Though he didn’t feel like hearing any ill news, he opened the front door so he could at least know where on Earth his son was.

“Mr. Cohen?” the officer asked as he stood stiffly at the front door. It was one A.M., he was cold, and he’d rather be doing any other kind of frivolous duty than what he had to do now.

“Yes officer,” William answered. “That’s me,” he said as he gulped nervously. “Won’t you come in, have some hot coffee?”

“Much obliged,” the officer said uneasily. He took his wide brimmed hat off as he stepped into the warmth. “Is there some where we can sit down and talk. This won’t take long, but,” the officer’s voice trailed off.

“Certainly sir, the den is right this way,” Grace said a she led the way. Her husband followed a step behind his wife and the officer was two paces behind them both.”

“Please, sit,” the officer said as he removed his black leather gloves and rung them in his hand as he stood by the doorway.

The couple did as they were told, neither questioning the officer, knowing that the answers would be coming soon enough. They watched as the officer paced two steps to the left and then returned. There was such an uneasiness about his movements that they were certain it was the worst of news that he was bringing them.

“Do you have a teenager,” the officer started awkwardly, knowing that there were better ways to start this procedure, ones that escaped his grasp. But at least it was a beginning and he could move on from there.

Gail shot to her feet out of nervousness. “Yes, a son,” she paused briefly, remember what her child stormed out of the house wearing. “Bill,” she continued. “He’s sixteen. Is he okay?”

The officer gulped and did everything he could to not look into the woman’s eyes. Instead he stared at the portrait on the wall, the photo of the family, including the image of the child he saw at the morgue. Staring at the picture wasn’t helping either as he pursed his lips and took another breath. He lowered his gaze to the mantel; a porcelain ballerina caught his eyes. He settled on looking at that. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news on Christmas,” the officer said mechanically, trying his hardest not to crack. “But there was an accident, your son was involved. We found his school ID in his coat pocket, that’s how we found you.”

William stood and grabbed the officer by the shoulders. “An accident,” he said in disbelief. “Was it bad? How is he? Was he hurt?” He asked each question so fast that the words all came out as one. He put his hand on the armrest of the couch when he saw the officer intentionally avoid looking at him.

“I’m afraid,” the officer started and stopped. He looked directly into the father’s face. “It was fatal sir,” the officer said with difficulty, forcing the words out. “We’ll need you to come to the morgue for a final identification though. We understand if you want to wait ‘til morning to do so. I don’t know if this will come as any comfort sir, but your son died a hero. He pushed a baby carriage out of the way of a pick-up truck, saved the little baby girl’s life.”

For a few seconds the house was still, the only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock. Tick, tock, tick ---.

“You bastard,” Gail screamed as she punched her husband’s chest repeatedly with the bottom of her fists. “You caused this; you chased my baby out of the house. This is all your fault, you killed him! You killed my baby!”

William stood like a statue, numb with grief and guilt as his wife continued to pound on him and wail.

The officer didn’t know what to do, didn’t think it was appropriate to get involved, so he slowly backed out of the room. “I’ll wait by the door for you to gather your coats,” he said as he fought back the tears in his own eyes.

Gail punched her husband until exhaustion set in and then she collapsed into his arms, still sobbing.

William wrapped his arms around his wife, tears started to fall from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice was cracking under the pressure and the guilt. “You’re right, it is all my fault. All mine.” He kissed his wife on the crown.

Bill watched as his parents prepared to leave, moving stiffly, robotically, as if they shut all their systems down and were being controlled remotely. They said nothing as the officer led them to his patrol car.

Bill knew he was also sad, but there was a sense of peace that still surrounded him. He knew of his parents love for him and also of his love for them. The past two days couldn’t destroy what took a lifetime to grow. He turned to the angel. “Are they going to be okay,” he asked with true concern and affection.

“They will be all right,” the anger replied. “But you will see that for yourself.”

Bill looked at the angel in confusion but knew that answers would be coming soon enough. He walked to the Christmas tree, knowing he wouldn’t see it again; not one that he had helped decorate at least. He looked at the presents that were arranged neatly underneath, the first two caught his eye. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “There are two gifts for Sarah; one from mom and one from dad.” For a moment his heart and the house was filled with a happiness that would be vacant for quite some time.

“Your parents both loved you,” the angel stated simply. “The real you and your many forms.”

Bill didn’t need to be told it was time to leave, he knew that decision was up to him. He could take as little or as much time as necessary. He looked at the pictures on the mantel; him as a young child; last year’s school pictures, the family portrait. He was never to be captured on film again, at least not with that sparkle in his eyes that seemed ever present. He stopped at the porcelain figure of the little ballerina that pouted while trying to keep the baggy tights from falling. He wished he could wind it up, here it play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star once more. Now it was he who was pouting. He remembered the Christmas he received it as a gift.

When Bill was six years old, his father brought him to a special store before Christmas. They both stood out of the way of the traffic going through the front door and stood in front of the large display window that featured the large dolls that his mother took to collecting at the time.

William held onto his son’s hand. “Do you remember the rules for this store?”

“Yes daddy,” Bill answered as he wiggled and hopped, trying to peek inside the window that was just a bit too high for him. This was one of his favorite stores, even though it was only his third time visiting.

“Okay, so what are they?” William prompted as he looked down on his child who was short for his age.

Bill looked up at his dad and smiled, displaying his dimples in the process. “Don’t leave the store, don’t go up to strangers, and I can look but not touch,” Bill recited with child-like precision.

“Very good,” William praised. “Let’s go see how they’re doing on mommy’s gift.”

Bill skipped into the well lit store still holding onto his father’s hand. The store was making a doll special order from a photo of his mom as a baby. That was very exciting, but what the child liked to do most of all was hunt and search for the ceramic figure he loved most of all.

He looked high, or as high as he could get, and low for the little ballerina with the pouty face that looked almost like him. It took a little longer to find this time, but his face lit up as soon as it came into view. Bill stared at it in awe and for a moment mimicked the figures face.

“Is that my little ‘Bill ball of sunshine’ pouting over there,” a familiar voice said from down the aisle.

Bill took his attention from the statuette and placed it on the kindly old lady that befriended him from the very first time he visited. His smile returned. “Yes,” he said with unrestrained exuberance. “It’s me Mrs. Malory.”

“Don’t just stand there, give me a hug,” Malory offered with wide opened arms.

Bill would not deny and went skipping in the woman’s direction, and at the last second jumped up into her waiting embrace.

“My, my, my, good things certainly do come in small packages,” the older lady said as she walked back up the aisle. “Do, did you find what you were looking for today, young prince, or shall we look at some other treasures?”

“No, I found her,” Bill said as they made it back to the exact spot that he started from.

Malory turned around to face the shelf she knew the child was staring at. “Who did you find, Sweetie?”

“Her,” Bill pointed to the figurine in question. “The little ballerina girl, she’s my favorite.”

“Oh, I see,” Malory said with an approving nod. “I wonder why she looks so sad when she is dressed so pretty.”

“That’s easy,” Bill said, his bright eyes staring at the item. “Her ballerina tights are too big and she’s afraid they’ll fall down if she dances for all her fans. See, she is holding them up.”

“It seems like you care a great deal about her. Maybe if you put it on your Christmas wish list, Santa will bring it to you for being such a precious, delightful, and good little boy like I know you were all year,” Malory carried on.

“I certainly hope so,” Bill answered affirmatively.

One week later, on Christmas morning, as he tore into his gifts, one of his very first boxes was a medium sized package wrapped in red paper with a pattern of Green Christmas trees. It contained the same porcelain figure that he was drawn to in the store. He smiled so brightly that it melted his parents’ hearts. “I love it, I love it, I love it,” the child squealed.

“We’re going to have to send Santa Claus a special thank you note for this one,” William said joyfully.

Bill gently put the porcelain figure on the end table and ran to his dad. He wrapped his small arms around his father’s neck and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “Thank you Mr. Santa.” He leaned over to kiss his mom. “And thank you Mrs. Santa,” he added with a mischievous grin.

That night and most nights afterward while Bill was little, his dad would wind up the base of the figurine while the child was in his bed. William would place the figure on the child’s nightstand, and give one final kiss goodnight. “Sleep tight, Angel,” his father would always say just before leaving the room, always making sure to leave the door open just a crack. The light from the hall would always land on the little ballerina, making it appear as if it were on a stage. Bill would keep his head on his pillow and watch the little porcelain girl slowly spin, imagining that it was really him until he fell asleep and could dream some more.

Bill walked to the angel, with one of his favorite memories still intact, it was time to go.