The Blue Knight - Part 2

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The Blue Knight
Part Two - Intersections


 
Headquarter's Plaza Parking Garage...Morristown, New Jersey...Christmas Eve Day, 1986

Tá¡ mé mo shuá­ á³ d`éirigh`n ghealach aréir
Ag cur tein-e sá­os-go buan is á¡ fadá³ go géar
Tá¡ bunadh a` tá­ `na luá­ is tá¡ mise liom féin
Tá¡ na coiligh ag glaoch `san saol `na gcodladh ach mé

When Caden got back to the parking garage the following afternoon she discovered that someone had paid the parking for the previous day as well as for the remainder of the afternoon. Her packages had been placed in the back seat and the keys, which had fallen to the ground during her attack, were left with the attendant. She sighed; it wasn’t that she was ungrateful, but with her purse gone, so much would need replacing. But it was the one irreplaceable item left her feeling very sad; the ring was a gift from her grandmother…the only person on earth that accepted the fact that Kellen O’Rourke no longer existed and that she had a lovely granddaughter named Caden.


Later that afternoon...the O'Rourke home...

“Kellen? Is that you?” Grace O’Rourke called from the kitchen at the sound of the front door. Caden frowned. She had already started to cry on the way home, and had barely contained herself when her mother’s words drove another knife into her heart. She blinked back her tears, vowing to be patient and understanding of the intolerable treatment, but her mother’s next words ruined her plan.

“You know…this is all because of this.” Her mother used her hand in a broad gesture to point to Caden. She went to say something but Grace continued.

“If your father was still alive…what would he think?” She shook her head and grace frowned before speaking.

“If Daddy was still alive, I wouldn’t be, Mom, ‘cause either I would never have had the courage to change, and I would have ended up in Greystone or worse, or I would still have changed and he would have killed me!”

“Don’t you ever say that! Your father loved you.”

“NO, mom. He loved what I could have or should have become. His dream child making it into the major leagues! Hell…I wasn’t even good enough for Varsity….I could never live up to his expectations as a boy, Mom. I would have had no chance at all in pleasing him now as a girl.”

“You stop saying that. I don’t care what you had done…You’re a boy, not a girl.” Grace began her routine; first the angry but pseudo-conciliatory words followed by tears that came almost at will. She ‘sobbed,’

“You were my little boy…why can’t you accept that,” as if her desire was something that would have changed the inside workings of the girl before her. The heart and mind so desperately yearning to be free; finally liberated only to be forced back into her mother’s cage of expectations.

“Mom…I’m not a boy. I never ever was. I can’t continue to live this way. Life outside is hard enough with the jokes and the comments behind my back. My friends leaving me. My…friend…” The girl lamented the loss of her best friend; the only departure that wasn’t mean spirited, but cruel none the less since his abandonment came at the hands of leukemia. No one in the world besides her therapist to turn to; making her mother’s passive and conditional love all the more painful.

“Nonsense. You just have to change back,” Grace said with a silly grin, as if she had been clever when instead she continued to be entirely foolish and even cruel. Caden had stopped trying to correct her mother’s ignorance long ago, realizing that her mother’s words weren’t so much foolish as mean-spirited; Grace O’Rourke may have been many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

“I’m leaving.” Caden said, shaking her head.

“Why…you should rest before going out, Kellen. You just got home.”

“No, Mom…not out. I’m moving out. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too painful for me and too annoying for you every day to have to come up with another new way of telling me how wrong I am. I’ll admit it. I was wrong. I should never have had the surgery. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Well okay. I said it. Are you happy now?”

Instead of taking what was reluctantly and painfully offered, Grace couldn’t just settle for being ‘right,’ and kept at her child.

“You should have listened to me. If you had, none of this nonsense would have happened and you’d be alright. But you were always stubborn like your father. Just like your father.” Grace started in with her tears again but Caden interrupted her.

“Daddy was a cruel and vicious man who never cared about us. He whored around all over town and you hated him for that. And when he died you and Aunt Marie drank to his death. I was there, Mom. No. But you are right. If I hadn’t gone through with the surgery, none of this nonsense would have happened.” Grace opened her mouth to interrupt, but Caden put her hand up.

“For once Mom, let me finish, Okay? None of this would have happened because I would have killed myself.” Caden started to shake. She bit her lip as she felt years of frustration and anger well up inside of her.

“And you would have been happy, Mom. What did you say to Aunt Marie? Better a dead son than…what did you call me? A freak? No…a live fag.” Caden gasped between words, trying not to cry out.

“I would have really been better if I’d never been born, Mom, but we can’t go back in time. And I can’t ‘change back,’ as much as I’ve actually thought about it. I’m nowhere, Mom. I’m no longer your son, and I’m no one’s daughter. You hate me…or hate what and who I am, Mom, and I can’t change that. At least if I move out maybe I can stop hating myself?” She shook her head as her mother once again began crying; not for her ‘dead son’ or freakish daughter, but once again, Grace O’Rourke cried for just how cruel life had treated her. She looked up after a few moments, whimpering only slightly for effect and finally noticed that Caden had walked out of the kitchen.

Deiridh lucht léinn gur claoite an galar an grá¡
Char admhaigh mé é is é `ndiaidh mo chroá­ istigh a chrá¡
Aicid rá³-ghéar, faraor ná¡r sheachain mé á­
Is go gcuireann sá­ arraing is céad go géar trá­ cheart-lá¡r mo chroá­


Christmas Eve night...the Callahan home...

As it turned out, Katie ended up having to fly out on Christmas Eve...actually Christmas morning due to her standby status. Michael had just walked in the door from her patrol and headed for the shower, exhausted, but not from work, which consisted of driving around town all day.

“Honey…why don’t you put on your PJ’s and we’ll have a nice cup of tea by the fireplace, okay. It's Christmas Eve. We’ll just sit here for a bit. I can get a cab to take me to the airport, honey…better yet…why don’t I just call Linda up and tell her I’ll be there on Saturday instead. I’ll avoid the rush and the crowd, and we can spend some time together.

“No…Mom…no.” Michael said softly only a few minutes later as she climbed out of the shower. She grabbed a towel; wrapping it around her quickly as she faced her mother.

“The kids are really looking forward to seeing you, and Linda and Kevin have a nice weekend planned.” Kevin and Linda had moved with their two girls, Katie and Bridget, to Phoenix the previous December as Kevin returned to Arizona State for his master’s in education.

“I’ll be alright,” she grabbed another towel and began to dry her hair, which had grown to an almost unmanageable (for her) girl-like length. She walked into the living room as her mother grabbed a tray and placed a waiting teapot and two mugs on it before joining Michael on the couch.

“I know it’s been hard since Amy and you broke up. It really isn’t fair.” She said, placing her hand on Michael’s still damp arm.

“Oh, it’s not that. We fell out of love a while back. We just took too long for both our sakes to realize it. I’m happy for her.” There was a huge part of Michael that still loved Amy; the part that loved enough to wish the best for her old girlfriend…enough to let her go.

“What about that girl over at the Sheriff’s office? She seemed very nice.”

“Nice isn’t the word…she’s a great kid, but she’s just too afraid to disappoint her parents, and she’s off to Ithaca next month for the Spring semester.” Michael knew better than to try to start a relationship with a college sophomore. At twenty-eight there were even more barriers between women in that kind of relationship, and her job, even in a relatively peaceful suburb, still had its perils and pitfalls.

“I’m so sorry.” Katie began to cry. Between her illness and her overwhelming guilt, she had little to no strength to deal with her daughter’s unhappiness.

“It’s not your fault. You and Daddy were raised a certain way. I’m just glad that you….”

“Saw the light?” Katie wiped her tears with her sleeve and looked away.

“I spent so much time trying to make you the daughter I wanted that I forgot just what a wonderful daughter I had. Daddy and I … we made so many mistakes when you told us about …” Even after nearly ten years, Katie still had a difficult time saying the word ‘lesbian,’ more out of a sense of being foreign or alien, like some folks get embarrassed when they try to speak French or German for the first time. She had grown beyond just being ‘not ashamed,’ and had become so proud of her daughter. But the guilt remained.

“If we had only ….gosh honey… we should have.”

“You did. Just a couple of days before Daddy died he told me how sorry he was. He kissed me and it was like he knew it was time…like he was saying goodbye. He told me he was proud of me, Mom…you know….and you’ve been as good to me as anyone ever could. We just got started late.” Katie nodded and frowned at the same time.

“Shhhh.” Michael smiled and kissed her mother before getting up.

“I’m going to get dressed. I don’t think I can sleep, and I heard that Paul’s over on 46 isn’t closing tonight. Let’s go out and get something warm and friendly….they’ve got great gyros and souvlaki, and I’m hungry.” Katie nodded as Michael disappeared into her room. A moment later she came out, dressed once again in uniform.

“Don’t tell me they’re making you work on Christmas.”

“Terry’s wife is in the hospital. They’re thinking about a C-section. And besides, you’ll be out in Arizona and Paula will be driving down from Portland, so I might as well work after I get back.” She reached down and helped her mother off the couch.

* * * * *

Christmas Day....

As it stood, they had been misinformed. Paul’s Diner was closed, as was almost everything between Denville and Newark, so Michael took the long way around to get home from the airport, driving through Morris Plains, where she saw that the Dunkin’ Donuts on 53 was open. A good cup of coffee and a croissant beat Sanka and stale toast at home, so she pulled into the parking lot. As she walked to the entrance she placed the keys in her pocket and noticed something left there from the day before; the ring that she had found by the car in the parking garage. It got her to thinking about girl she had helped; almost like a damsel in distress, but after the black knight had hurt her so to speak.

Recalling her late arrival, due to a hastily grabbed coffee that evening as well, she felt guilty that she hadn’t been able to stop who ever had attacked the woman. And the guilt oddly gave way to a curious new feeling as Michael remembered how attracted to the girl she was, despite a very pronounced black eye. And the thought of attraction led to distraction as she failed to notice the figure approaching the entrance at the same time. A collision followed, resulting in two bodies tangled on the ground at the front of the store. She shook off the bump on the head she received when they collided and stood up. A moment later she offered her hand in assistance to the woman who still sat awkwardly on the sidewalk. The woman looked up at her and was only crying a little bit, but she could be forgiven, since it was five AM on Christmas morning and she did have a very rough time only the night before.

“I’m so sorry, Miss…” Michael said tentatively, failing to recognize the woman before her, who spoke softly while wiping her face with her coat sleeve; wincing only slightly as she rubbed the sleeve against her badly bruised cheek. She held her hand out in greeting and said,

“M…Merry Christmas, Officer…” She looked at the name plate opposite the badge and continued,

“Officer Callahan."

"I'm sorry, please excuse my clumsiness...I'm Michael...Michael Callahan." It was only at that moment that the girl recognized the police officer and that the officer was a very handsome...woman. She smiled nervously as her cheeks grew hot and red.

"Hello, Michael Callahan. My name is O'Rourke...Caden O'Rourke.”

Casadh bean-tsá­ dom thá­os ag Lios Bhéal an átha
D`fhiafraigh mé di an scaoilfeadh glas ar bith grá¡
Is é dáºirt sá­ gos á­seal i mbriathra soineannta sá¡imh
"An grá¡ a théid fá¡n chroá­ ná­ scaoiltear as é go brá¡th"

Next: Why Worry!


Tá¡ mé mo shuá­
(I am sitting)

Traditional
Performed by Clannad
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDmDnwgcxJQ

Tá¡ mé mo shuá­ á³ d'éirigh'n ghealach aréir
Ag cur tein-e sá­os-go buan is á¡ fadá³ go géar
Tá¡ bunadh a' tá­ 'na luá­ is tá¡ mise liom féin
Tá¡ na coiligh ag glaoch 'san saol 'na gcodladh ach mé

'Sheacht mh'anam déag do bhéal do mhala is do ghrua
Do sháºil ghorm ghlé-gheal fá¡r thréig mé sionnach na láºb
Le cumha do dhiaidh ná­ léir dom an bealach a shiáºil
Is a charaid mo chléibh tá¡ na sléibhte 'dul idir mé's táº

Deiridh lucht léinn gur claoite an galar an grá¡
Char admhaigh mé é is é 'ndiaidh mo chroá­ istigh a chrá¡
Aicid rá³-ghéar, faraor ná¡r sheachain mé á­
Is go gcuireann sá­ arraing is céad go géar trá­ cheart-lá¡r mo chroá­

Casadh bean-tsá­ dom thá­os ag Lios Bhéal an átha
D'fhiafraigh mé di an scaoilfeadh glas ar bith grá¡
Is é dáºirt sá­ gos á­seal i mbriathra soineannta sá¡imh
"An grá¡ a théid fá¡n chroá­ ná­ scaoiltear as é go brá¡th"

I am sitting up since the moon arose last night
Putting down a fire again and again and keeping it lit
The family is in bed and here am I by myself,
The cocks are crowing and the country is asleep but me.

I love your mouth, your eyebrows and your cheeks
Your bright blue eyes for whose sake I stopped hunting the wily fox
In longing for you I cannot see to walk the road
Friend of my bosom, the mountains lie between me and you.

Learned men say that love is a fatal sickness
I never admitted it until now that my heart is broken:
It's a very painful illness, alas, I have not avoided it,
And it sends a hundred arrows through the core of my heart.

I met a fairy woman at the Rath of Beal an Atha
I asked her would any key unlock the love in my heart
And she said in soft simple language
"When love enters the heart it will never be driven from it".

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Comments

Thank you 'Drea,

ALISON

Building up to another lovely romantic piece that you do so well.Thank you.

ALISON

Stunningly good.

I loved this so much honey and all the stuff with Michael home and stuff tickled the Bridges area of my brain. I love reading something that makes me want to write. But You so often just take me away to your stories. I Love New Jersy and just the feel I get as you weave these places together.

Thanks so much Honey.
*Great Big Hugs*
Bailey.

Bailey Summers

Thanks Andrea

I look forward to each new bit.

Lovely Story

terrynaut's picture

This is sweet, sad, dreamy and romantic all at the same time. It's wonderful.

Thanks and kudos.

- Terry

chance meetings

that just might lead somewhere special? Oh do say yes....

Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels

DogSig.png

WOW! Talk about your *chance encounters*

And she found the precious ring. Sweet!

Question: I do notice many of the parent figures in your tales are either old school and find it hard to change their ways or are plain out right bastards.

--GRIN --

I get hints from bits you have let out in blogs and comments that you are pulling that out from your own life or that of ones close to you.

Not that I am complaining, you write memorable characters. But your having had a less than *DisneyTM* childhood would explain alot about your characters.

Just wondering.

And BRAVO on this tale.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

meet cute with concussion

laika's picture

Thump- OUCH!

But thank you for giving us something to look forward to after that horrible interlude with Caden's trounce-worthy cad of a mother, who may have reasons to be stupid and bitter and hurtful, but the girl sure isn't obligated to stand around and take it. Good thing Katie is such a sweetheart; sounds like she might be mom enough for both of 'em!
~huggles, ronni

Guns 'N' Roses?

joannebarbarella's picture

OK! Coincidence comes calling, Callahan concusses Caden, and love is a sledgehammer,

Joanne

Very nice indeed, Andrea.

but then, I've come to expect nothing but the best from you, and you never disappoint in that respect, or in any other for that matter.

I'm looking forward to see how you get these two together, and how their lives go after that. As for Caden's Mom, we can't be too tough on her. Her own life has been a nightmare from what you've written, and she has lost everything, as bad as some of it appears to have been. To her, the loss of her son, overshadows the gain of a daughter, and her seeming lack of control of any parts of her life, seems to be inconceivable to her. I don't think she's a bad person... she's just fighting against what seems to her to be a cruel, selfish world, taking everything from her and replacing it with things she can't comprehend.

Very nice, very believable and very emotional, Andrea. Thank you very much for this one.

Hugs 'n stuff,
Catherine Linda Michel

As a T-woman, I do have a Y chromosome... it's just in cursive, pink script. Y_0.jpg

Love hurts...

Ole Ulfson's picture

but I didn't think it would be quite so physical! Ouch! Their relationship; romance, I hope, I hope, has nowhere to go but up: First a beating and now a knock on the head. Poor Caden.

Both of them are bumbling and stumbling around so It must be love.

And dear old mom! Grace? I think not: She shows none. Why can't she leave the poor girl alone?

Why can't anyone just accept people as they are? I've had gay, straight and lesbian friends all my life and I never liked them or disliked them because of it. If I like people for some reason, their sexuality doesn't mater. Why hate someone for something they can't help?

While I'm at it: A woman who has transitioned is a woman! Quod erat demonstrandum! What's the question?

Ah, well, sometimes I just don't see things as others do.

OK, Andrea, I'll step down from my pulpit! I'm loving the story and can't wait to see where it goes next!

Thank you for dealing with things we all care about and doing it with such elegance.

Ole

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!