Previously, Christmas Night, Morristown Memorial Hospital, just before midnight...
 
Michael has invited Caden to stay at her home; mostly because of the peril under which the girl has found herself...

“We’re going to find out who did this…I promise you.” It was little consolation; the girl almost didn’t care who had killed her mother since it wouldn’t retrieve what had been lost...

And now here was another stray; a homeless oddity of a pet. A defenseless, helpless kid who needed protection. At least that’s what she told herself, but inside…in her heart of hearts, her mother would always say, Michael Callahan was falling in love with Caden O’Rourke.

The Callahan home, shortly after one in the morning of December twenty-sixth...

“You really don’t have to do this,” Caden said as she laid her suitcase on the bed. Almost a foolish statement; she was there and it was a done deal, as they say, since she’d already checked out of the motel.

“I can’t let you stay by yourself; not while there’s a….” Michael was going to say, ‘killer,’ but thought better of it; re-writing her words on the fly.

“Thief…” Caden interrupted. She almost sounded relieved until she added.

“He….stole her away from me.”

It was an odd moment. Forgetting what she did know about transsexuals and adding in what she thought she knew, Michael looked at Caden as the girl began to cry once again, mistakenly believing it was incumbent upon women who had been men to be given to crying. She went to hug the girl, but Caden pulled away.

“I’m so sorry.”

A lifetime of feeling a need to apologize for her own existence prompted yet one more mea culpa. It was confusing; Michael was trying to view the girl through the same lens that others saw her, and she made the same mistake with Caden as her friends and even her own family had made with Michael.

“Don’t be sorry.” Her tone was almost condescending; giving a permission in a way that made Caden feel less secure. Three simple words that sounded kind but included a shrug and dismissive half-smile. Michael found herself looking at the girl as if an inspection was in order. The girl turned her head, embarrassed.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Another kind encouragement, Michael thought, but again her body language and tone betrayed her. It wasn’t as if Caden had nothing to apologize for, but that she had nothing to apologize to Michael for since Michael almost extended forgiveness where none was needed.

“I don’t….this isn’t going to work,” Caden said, once again looking at a simple extension of help as a task to be managed instead of a relationship, as simple and innocent as that might be. She felt the need to perform, as in all of her other relationships, feeling inauthentic and false. She pushed back her hair, almost in a flirtatious way, but being entirely fearful for any attention at the same time. It was as if she was on display; a test drive of toleration in a way for Michael’s benefit. Her face had grown almost crimson and Michael finally stopped trying, giving way to being herself instead.

“I’ll let you get some rest; this has been an awfully long day, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a pill. I didn’t mean to be so dopey about you… I’ve been treating you like I hate to be treated, and I’m sorry. On top of everything else you’ve had to deal with today, the last thing you need is someone like me making you feel like you have to prove yourself.” Michael bowed her head, feeling more than a bit ashamed; needless as well, since she was operating in a storm with a low ceiling and little visibility and flying blind. Caden reached over, almost reflexively, and lifted Michael’s chin with her hand.

“Hey…We’ve both …it’s been a long day, like you said. I’m exhausted and you must be as well. I am grateful, really. I just….” Caden had been crying all day, and the last thing she needed was to be tearful once again. She felt too vulnerable and weak as it was, as if she had to prove she wasn’t too weak.

“We don’t even know each other, and I think we’re trying too hard, when it’s just you letting me stay at your home…nothing more.” She seemed to stress the last two words, leaving Michael confused. Had she been sending out signals? The last thing she needed was a relationship; she was emotionally tied in knots over her mother’s losing battle with cancer, and getting involved with someone had to be a stupid idea, right? She looked away and spoke.

“No problem…I just wanted to be helpful, and I guess I went overboard. I didn’t mean to push it, but I am concerned about your safety. I’ll talk with my Captain in the morning about how to make sure you’re okay while we look for….” She paused, just as she had earlier, and the same response came from Caden’s lips, but in a much angrier tone.

“The thief….” Caden bit the inside of her mouth, successfully stifling a sob. Plenty of time to cry herself to sleep once Michael left the room. In a moment she got her wish.

“I’ll let you get some rest. My room is next door.” She wanted to add ‘if you need anything,’ but thought better of it. Instead, she nodded while putting her hand on the bedroom door, signaling her exit. Caden half-smiled and turned away as Michael left, closing the door behind her. It was only then that Caden allowed herself some grace. She was too tired to care about clothing, and just kicked off her shoes before climbing under the covers.

Just outside the door, Michael stood, her head bowed and against the door post. She winced slightly as she heard the stifled sobs; Caden had to be crying into her pillow. Michael wanted to resist the urge to be the protector. Not that she wasn’t a protector in her role as a police officer; she’d do what she could for anyone in Caden’s situation, wouldn’t she? The sobs seemed to sift through the door like so much vapor to fill the hallway with sadness. Michael would have done almost anything at that moment to dull the girl’s pain, but she did what she could.

“You don’t hear from me that often….maybe because some folks make you out like you hate me. I don’t really care anymore what you think of me, but if you’re real, would you please help Miss O’Rourke?” It didn’t occur to Michael to use the girl’s name, and it didn’t even strike her as odd that she had just prayed to a god that she feared hated her, but might deign to favor someone even odder than herself. It wasn’t so much that she had more faith for Caden than for herself than that she had more regard for Caden; Michael was a sinner consigned to hell; but maybe, just maybe, god might consider helping the girl on the other side of the door. It crossed her mind, and she didn’t even realize that she was speaking aloud,

“If I love her this much, how much more must you care for her?” Love; as easy a concept to grasp as trying to hold mercury in the palm of your hand. As painful as any slap in the face and as wonderful as any hug you ever had. At least that’s what Michael thought. She stared at the door as if she could see beyond; certainly she imagined the girl curled up almost like a baby, crying. And she couldn’t help herself. She recalled the first thing her mother did when they reconciled. She was nineteen `and had just graduated from County College, and it seemed as though things would never change between her and her parents. But her father was gravely ill, and had reached out to her, with her mother following suit….

“Honey… I know…I don’t understand all of this. You know what we’ve believed in, and I’m not even sure of what’s right any more. But I do know that your Dad and I love you. I’m so sorry we’ve hurt you.” Katie O’Rourke sat on the couch, her daughter sitting on the floor as her mother combed her hair; a ritual that had been sadly set aside for too long. Without really thinking, Katie began to hum a familiar tune…something she had learned from her mother and her mother from her grandmother and so on. The humming turned to words and music as she began to sing.

Codail suan, mo chadra bhá¡n
Codail sá¡mh, a mhuirná­n mhilis
Luigh go ciáºin sa chliabhá¡n
Dáºn do sháºil, a leabh dhá­lis

Sleep softly, my fair lamb
Sleep peacefully, my sweet darling
Lie quietly in the cradle
Close your eyes, my faithful child

The last line made so much sense even if singing a lullaby to a nineteen year old didn’t, since in all that time, despite the hurt that her parents pushed upon her, she never gave up hope that they would come to remember her. And so, with tear-stained eyes, as much for the anticipation of Jack Callahan’s passing as for her reunion with her daughter, Katie Callahan sang and wept...

And in the hallway, despite the fact that Michael was a single grown woman, and despite the fact that Caden O’Rourke was a single grown…woman, Michael never the less sang the same sweet song to her; softly so as not to be heard, like an anonymous prayer. Who can say, but maybe the thinness of the old door added to Michael’s strong, authoritative near-tenor voice and the fading sobs of the girl inside enabled the protector to be heard. So while Caden remained sad and even a bit frightened, she found a measure of peace, and in minutes she was fast asleep.

Forty-Three Hazlett Street...about the same time...

A very focused thin stream of light hit the ornate wooden box on the top of the dresser in the otherwise darkened room. A gloved hand reached out and opened up the box, pulling rings and pins from their nests for examination. Each was viewed carefully before being carefully replaced. The man shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath.

A few minutes later, the man exited the house via the basement door, which had been left unlocked hours before. With no crime scene tape to push aside, the man carefully crept out of the basement and through the back yard of the home and slipped through a breach in the fence. And minutes later he was walking down the street as if he lived there. And of course, he did. He stopped at a car parked on the street and took two bags out of the back seat. He walked up the front steps of his porch and entered the house.

Réalta geala anocht ag luascadh ins an spéir
Fuaim na coille agus ceol na hoá­che

Bright stars tonight are rocking in the sky
Sounds of the forest and music of the night

Next: Riches All Too Great to Count

Suantrai
words and music by
Méav Ni Mhaolchatha
and Andreeja Malir