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Previously, the Kanakaredes home, Fairport, New York...

“Sia and I were talking about this, and we decided if it’s okay with you, we came up with a name for you.” The boy shrugged his shoulders at the remark until the woman said softly,

“It means beautiful gift!” You couldn’t blame Sia if you tried at that point; she was young and she only wanted to make her best friend feel good about herself. Well, it was almost the only thing she wanted to do for her best friend. Neither the spoken or unsaid reasons were realized as the third option once again made itself known when the boy burst into tears.

One day some time ago...

The little boy sat in the middle of the room with his hands upraised, trying to get the attention of everyone, but finding no success. Just then a man walked by him and paused.

And while she held him, he gazed off out the window of the crowded living room and would tell everyone years later something that no one could believe but everyone came to finally understand. Just next to the Poplar tree in the side yard by Mrs. Calliente’s driveway, the boy saw a very kind looking woman; someone he thought he recognized but wasn’t sure. The woman waved to the boy and then simply faded into mist in the gentle rain that fell softly on the day of his father’s funeral.

Back in the present...

The boy walked sheepishly into the living room where four sets of eyes followed his movement as he slowly walked to the couch and sat down. He wore a pair of sweat pants and a mauve-ish looking tee shirt. His look was almost apologetic; anticipating the reaction from the two younger girls sitting together on the couch.

“Oh…pooey!” Izzie frowned and folded her arms. Penny shook her head but smiled at the boy and laughed softly.

“It’s okay, Sia…he’s nice enough just the way he is. Hi…Kaaaay-lehhhhhb!” She drew out his name like the awe-struck crushing twelve year old she was. Her twin nodded but added,

“I still think he would make a nice….what’s her name again, Sia?” She pointed to the DVD player as if the character would emerge from the television upon playing.

“They don’t really call her anything but the councillor.” Callie nodded and looked at Caleb and smiled.

“You can counsel me anytime you like!” The boy shifted nervously on the brick hearth by the fireplace; looking as inconspicuous as any boy can in a room full of girls. Part of him sighed inside as he thought about the opportunity he had passed up.

“Girls…do you think you could find something of a homework nature to do while I talk with our guest?” Olympia smiled and the two got up and smiled back and then at the boy before walking down the hallway hand in hand. Olympia waited a moment and when she didn’t see any further movement she added,

“Sia, honey. I think I would like to talk with your friend here.” She didn’t have to add ‘by myself;’ Sia took the hint and waved gingerly before walking down the hallway to her room.

“My Spiros and I are blessed, wouldn’t you say?” She wasn’t trying to be provocative; just a mother very proud of her children. But the boy was provoked nonetheless for several reasons, not least of which being that he wouldn’t mind being blessed by one girl in particular. And of course his guilt switch only had two settings; on and off, so he put his head down immediately. Olympia notices and spoke.

“Remember what I said when you arrived? We don’t judge here. I’ve known you how long? Almost nine years, Caleb, and in that whole time you’ve been nothing but a very proper gentleman.” If he hadn’t been so closed up and tight he might have cringed at the word. She noticed how uncomfortable he was and spoke gently as she got up and sat down next to him on the hearth.

“You know what I mean, child. You’ve been a good kid and have always been nice to my girls. Maybe a little nicer to my Aspasia, but what is the harm in that, I ask you.” She looked around the room as if she was asking unknown or anonymous critics of the boy who sat next to her.

“You’re a late bloomer, my Papa would say. You’re just finding out who and maybe what you are, and that’s okay. So no worries.” She put her arm around the boy’s shoulder and this time he did cringe.

“Oh, honey. It’s going to be okay. We’re all friends here. Yes, I said we’re all girls, but that was only for the moment unless God and you figure out otherwise. And maybe it will only be for the moment, but there’s nothing wrong with a boy wanting to wear pretty clothes. Okay?”

Caleb nodded, but with little enthusiasm. Olympia patted his back gently and then began to rub his shoulder softly; motherly to be sure and very attentive like a friendly nurse or a kind aunt.

“I think maybe it’s time you and I and maybe my Spiros if you don’t mind….maybe we should have a talk with your mom and dad, okay? Not today or even tomorrow, sweetie, but sometime soon when you’re ready, because this is too much for you to bear without the love of your family.”

She would never dream of pushing the boy into any decision, but she felt she had to include his parents since it was only fair to the boy; otherwise whatever she and her family helped him with might go for naught if his parents felt betrayed and left out. They had always seemed like reasonable people; she had to believe in them…she just had to.

After dinner...

“Okay, would you two mind cleaning up later? Your father and I need to talk with Sia and our guest, okay?” Penny frowned and shrugged her shoulders. Callie waved at Caleb before smiling sheepishly at Sia as if to say, “What…can you blame me?” The girls walked out of the kitchen, leaving Caleb feeling on the spot as Spiros sat back down at the kitchen table. He placed a mug of cocoa in front of the boy and smiled.

“Chocolate cures everything, you know?” His look was almost conspiratorial, as if he had discovered some secret of the Ages.

“My Olympia tells me you have a problem and that you need our help, is that right?” The boy put his head down and his face turned dark.

“Oh…no…not that. Your problem is that you want to tell your momma and papa about something and you maybe need someone to help you tell them?” Caleb still didn’t seem convinced until Olympia sat down along with Sia. The girl had heard the story many times before, and when her mother had held the boy in the hallway, she knew that some time during the evening they would hear it all once again. Olympia patted the boy on the arm.

“When I was in high school my brother Nicco had been in college for a short time. He was such a sweet boy…that’s what my momma and papa thought…we all thought. And one day he came to me and my sister Stella and began to cry.” Even at the mention of the meeting her eyes welled with tears. Sia tried not to cry, but this was personal and special.

“’Stella? Ola? I have something to tell Momma and Papa,’ he said. He put his head down and cried like I never knew. And when he lifted his head again it was like just being with us helped, but he kept talking.” She looked at Spiros for support. He nodded as if to give her the strength to repeat the oft-told story.

“’My…my name isn’t Nicco.’ He said it and we thought he was joking until he began to weep. ‘You don’t understand. I’m not Nicco. I never was.’ My brother had never been a very manly man, but he was no less a man than anyone I’ve ever known…but that he wasn’t a man at all, if that doesn’t sound too crazy!” She shook her head.

“’What did he call himself, Mommy?” Sia asked; the narrative was almost sacred, like a Seder or the telling of a very blessed family secret. Olympia smiled at her daughter.

“’My name is Callista…we thought he was being funny, like the actress. And he just laughed softly and opened his shirt. We were all girls then as well. He had a soft garment underneath his work shirt, and underneath the garment he had started….” She turned only a bit red as Sia touched her chest with her palm.

“You know? These?” She laughed softly as Caleb looked back and forth between the three. Any other man might have been embarrassed but Spiros continued the story where his wife had left off.

“He was no longer a he. Maybe he never was…but my Olympia gained a new sister that day. Of course it meant a lot almost immediately. Callie had to leave the Army…they didn’t allow girls like her to serve back then.” Olympia looked at Spiros and shook her head, remembering the supreme waste of resources and sad rejection her sister had to bear. She put her hand over her mouth.

“There was a medical outreach in Kabul.” Spiros sighed a deep sigh and continued.

“She had gone back after leaving the service. They were attacked and she died trying to save the life of an Afghani school teacher and her students who had been brought there after the school had been bombed. They both died, but the rest of the staff was saved by her actions and most of the children.” He put his hand on Olympia’s arm and rubbed it softly. She pulled his hand to her face and kissed it.

“So…you see, child. We know….and we understand.”

What should have been an encouraging moment attempted to become another brick in the wall Caleb’s guilt was building against the truth. But Sia saw the expression on his face and spoke; almost rudely but with an authority that was necessary for the moment.

“You have nothing…nothing to be ashamed of. My aunt would not want you to feel sorry for her, but if her death is to have any meaning outside of that place? It’s that you would understand that there’s nothing wrong with you. Mommy and Daddy will help you talk to your parents, Caleb, but you have to believe you’re okay. I want to keep you from being hurt, but only you can believe. No matter what you believe or don’t, okay?” Caleb had never seen Sia this assertive before; once again the geeky girl surprised because of the safety and strength she felt from her own parents.

“Okay?” Olympia tilted her head slightly and wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling proud of her daughter. She was bright and intelligent, but the thing that spoke volumes to the boy she saw shine through, like the most brilliant green or blue you’ve ever seen almost embarrass the rest of the rainbow with its richness. Sia was loyal and true and the best friend Caleb could or would ever have in his….lifetime. The boy looked back and forth between the three once again before nodding; this time a little less sheepish and perhaps even a bit confident. And then the voice spoke… Caleb would say later that there was never any intention of manipulation or pretending; just a need to feel authentic. His face was the same and yet it wasn't...the expression had softened and become almost serene. He opened his mouth and the sweetest, softest, gentlest voice said in almost a mezzo sing-song,

“Well? Okay.”

Next: Heart of Gold...