The party was at the Thomas Estate—the largest building next to the Walmart, the High School and the Polycom plant. It was an old house that had several wings and extensions added to it over the years—including a very large room that was dubbed “the ballroom” due to how many golf balls were once stuffed inside. I’m pretty confident it was a record, but Guinness never came out to verify before Mayor Thomas arrived home and cleared the room.

We entered the room from an external entrance looking like a displaced batch of royal cosplayers and were greeted by Mayor Thomas and his wife. Karen Anne came very close to asking about crows but James took that moment to run to see Santa Claus, who was on the far side, so she raced after him.

I looked across the room and saw Garrett. He shook some man’s hand and then walked across the crowded floor to meet me.
“I’m glad you’re here, Nikki .”
“Is Mr. Thomas really dying?”
He nodded and for a moment I didn’t know if I needed scream, cry or shrug my shoulders because, as Mr Johnny would say: “them’s the breaks, keep playing. ”
“I took it hard at first, but then he started talking about pizza, fireworks and how to combine the two. Said he got it from a grunt in the army who knew his way with incendiary rounds. They fired live rounds from a pizza shop and it didn’t even make any news?”
“Didn’t really go like that.”
“Were you involved?”
“Not me, but, I think I know who,” I replied as I flashed the metal tags around my neck.
“I’m going to stay here. Yeah, going to school on the internet is what I need to do. This town really is something.”
I nodded slightly as Mayor Thomas stood up on a make-shift platform.
“Please tell me he’s not going to make a political speech,” I whispered.
“Not until next year,” Garrett replied as he held onto my hand.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming to our family’s Christmas celebration. This is not an election year, so I will not bore you with any rigamarole. No, this is a rather a special and for our family, one that tugs at the heart. My father will be joining me on the stage in a few moments and I have invited Pastor Adam Armitage to lead us in a prayers and to say a few words.”

Adam stepped out from a hallway and walked up to the mayor in such a way that you would assume he was the mayor himself: completely confident about standing in front of everyone. I guess he had to get used to that if he was going to stand in front of a church crowd. I hoped he wouldn’t see me but if he did and he threatened to say anything I believe I had the resolve to storm the stage and—since I could never pick him up—body slam him to the ground. Whatever I did after that would be left up to God.

“Would you pray with me?”
I was never a big person on praying. I never felt that link to what or whoever was out there. I was not against anyone as long as they were not against me and since I had not been on speaking terms with Adam for so long I took him on his high ground presence as the symbol of whatever he thought he was selling to the masses to make them feel better. I lowered my head—but my mind was stuck on a ten second loop of a fist going through a wall and then the feeling of being thrown into the air and landing in the snow inches away from the front of a car…and yes, Adam still had great upper body strength.

“Dear God, thank for allowing the storm to pass us by and to allow us to be gathered together in the celebration of the life of a great man—”
“I’m not dead yet!” Came a voice from the side.
“Amen!” Adam shouted as Mr. Thomas walked into the room with thunderous applause. Mr Johnny and Reverend Al slowly followed behind him.

Adam tried to hand the microphone over but Mr. Thomas handed it back to him. Adam turned to the audience.

“I’ve known Mr. Thomas a long time but only got to know him personally on a cold day in November eighteen years ago. I want to say it was heavenly providence that brought us together and on how that night I felt the tugging to help my fellow man. To love my fellow man. And, I love this man, he has taught me so much and continues to teach me from afar. From how to not run a pizza parlor and how not to decorate an office.”

There were a few laughs in the audience…except from the mayor’s wife who looked like she had seen a ghost.

“While speaking with Mr. Thomas, I learned there are things I need to apologize for and so, like a mentor should, he has ordered me,” Mr Thomas nodded and tapped the stage with his cane. “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but, do not have love, I gain nothing.W hat he has tried to teach me the most, I failed to learn and have hurt the ones closest to me. Firstly, my brother Danny, I apologize for locking you out of the bathroom during burrito night.”

I would have buried my head in shame but Danny raised his hands high and nodded.

“Seriously, though, Danny, I wasn’t always there for you, like Mom and Dad wanted me to be, but, in a way, that could be a good thing for the both of us. And, to my lost brother, Seth, who died serving in Afghanistan—”
“This! We’ll! Defend!” Reverend Al yelled and a deafening applause started around us.
“We didn’t see eye to eye on everything and as much as I thought he was rule-breaker and never listened to authority, he did receive quite a few medals and accommodations. He called me before his final deployment and had me swore on several Bibles, which I had with me, to never tell a soul what he was going to say until the time was right. The time is still not right, or at least it’s not my place to tell.” Adam looked at Mr. Thomas who was moving his head to search through the audience.
He looked in Garrett’s direction and pointed his cane; but I realized he was pointing at me.
“And lastly, I need to apologize to my sister. I’m sorry Nikki. We can forgive, but it’s next to impossible to forget.”
Mr. Thomas held his hand out for the microphone and Adam handed it over as I tried to move behind Garrett as everyone was now looking at us.

Mr. Thomas took a large step and nearly fell to the floor. There was a collective gasp and a few muffled shouts as he wobbled back and forth on his cane but kept on going without a fall.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Nicholas Paul Thomas, I am 86 years old and I am dying. But I will say that I felt like like dying on the spot five years ago. There was just this thought that I was just not the person I felt I was in the eyes of others. I felt like a relic and that my time had passed so I thought…’this is it. This’ll be my last day on Earth.’ I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do. Nothing more under the sun, no one to reach out to me, family excluded, of course, but when does anyone lean on the good when it’s not around at the time?”

Mr. Thomas stopped in front of us. “I sat down at a table, feeling sorry for myself, when this angel came to me and asked how I was doing and when I told her I was feeling down, she sat down with me and we talked over biscuits and coffee. I didn’t feel that weight on my shoulders anymore and I never did. This girl is my hero. So, if there is to be a celebration of my life, I want her to celebrate it with us.”
“Us?” I asked.
“You, me, Garrett, Al, Tony, family, the whole town.”
I took a step forward. “Thank you, Mr. Thomas.”
“No, my dear, thank you and to show you my gratitude, I pulled in a favor or two,” Mr. Thomas said with a wink. “Do you know how hard it is a to find a mechanic who works on a Nakaruru?”
“I do.”
“Well, I found one!” Mr. Thomas turned around and a door opened to reveal a man in coveralls carefully, like he was holding onto the most valuable thing in the world, roll out a freshly detailed maroon-colored motorcycle.