A Chicago Carol, novella by Nathan Perrin at Spillwords.com

Then the phantom and the priest’s words flashed in front of Stanely’s mind – lessons about compassion, empathy. But no matter what words Stanley could say, he couldn’t bring himself to give to the man asking for food.
Stanley looked at the ground and saw a child passed out on the sidewalk holding a vodka bottle. A police car rolled through the neighborhood and flashed its lights.
The policeman shouted racial slurs and yelled, “Leave that man alone!” He stepped out of his car with a hand on his pistol.
The man backed off.
“What are you doing here?” the policeman shouted at Stanley. “You want to die? This is how you die!”
Stanley, in that moment, wanted to die, but not like how the cop was saying he was going to die.
“No, sir,” Stanley replied.
“Get in the car!”
Stanley nodded and got in the back of the police car.

***

“You college boys think you can get away with anything, huh?” the cop asked as he drove Stanley towards his home.
“What do you mean?” Stanley asked.
“You think you can walk into a black neighborhood as a wealthy white guy and expect compassion? Empathy? No, you’re going to get beat, and beat fast. It’s a miracle you’re not robbed.”
“Have you considered that maybe they are in conditions beyond their control?” Stanley recalled Dolphy’s words.
The cop stopped the car, “This is the thanks you give me for saving your life? Arguing? This isn’t a college classroom, Professor. This is life. It’s hard, it’s brutal, and nobody gets out alive. Those folks in Lawndale especially shouldn’t be wept over. No big loss.”
“I’m confused. Why are you so angry towards black people?”
The cop stopped his car in front of Stanley’s house.
“Don’t ever go into Lawndale again. You hear me?”
“Yes, officer. I apologize.”

 

December 25

An hour later Stanley stood in front of Charlene’s grave again. Snow fell again. The city was quiet, serene.
“What have you learned?” the phantom’s voice echoed behind him.
“It is 2 AM and I am tired,” whispered Stanley. “That’s what I know.”
“There are thousands of boys like Dolphy in the mirror realm. He’s humanity’s indifference. He’s the ability to see the news and not feel anything. He’s the apathetic businessman as he passes by the homeless. He’s the addictions people have to numb themselves to life.
“You see, Professor Redlaw, you actually had a beautiful gift already. The gift of pain. No one likes to think of their pain in that way. But without forming negative experiences in people’s lives, how can they then appreciate the goodness in front of them?”
“Why do you haunt me, spirit?” Stanley asked.
“Because you prayed for this… you prayed for an end to your pain, an end to your traumas. But you see… without them, your life is also very much empty. Even with all that’s happened to you this year, you need those experiences to help you become a better man.”
Stanley looked forward, “I don’t want this gift anymore.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t know how to face tomorrow. I don’t know how to reconcile that I’ve killed someone with my indifference. How will I sleep at night knowing that my actions cause so much suffering in the world?”
“That’s the journey of repentance, isn’t it?” the phantom smiled. “To own the wrong, to repair the world. It’s a good thing you won’t be able to sleep at night. Imagine how much better the world would be if the wealthy couldn’t sleep knowing there were homeless people forced into the sex trade and addiction. Imagine how much better our world would be if we looked at the cross and saw a humble carpenter instead of a god of war.
“Imagine how much better our world would be if we stopped and wept not only for American lives lost, but also the lives of the Vietnamese? You see, professor… I know what hell is. I’ve seen it and experienced it. What hell isn’t are painful memories. They help make you human. They help remind you that you have a beating heart in your chest.”
“There has to be a better way,” Stanley argued. “There has to be some way God could’ve made the world without all this.”
“He can’t explain it to me either. We only have the cards that we’re dealt.”
Stanley sighed, “Why didn’t William, Milly, or Lana get affected by the gift?”
“Because they are too good-spirited for it… they’re kind. That’s all I can tell you.”
Stanley nodded. Somehow, it made sense at the moment.
“Can the gift be reversed?” Stanley cleared his throat.
“Yes…. but you must love, Stanley. That is the only way out.”

***

Stanley walked back into his house and saw William and Milly curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, asleep in each other’s arms.
Stanley sat across from them and forced a smile.
Milly opened her eyes, “Are you doing okay, Professor?”
“Yes,” Stanley nodded. “I went to visit Charlene.”
“That’s nice.”
“Milly, I know you’re young and you’ve faced some difficulties in your past. Is there anything I can do to help ease your load?”
“That’s sweet, professor. I guess a good way you can help is to clean Dolphy’s wounds.”
“Clean?”
“Yes,” Milly laughed. “Clean.”

***

Stanley sat in a chair in the room where Dolphy slept. He watched as the boy’s chest rose up and down, snoring softly. Milly watched them both from the doorway.
“You’ve been awfully odd,” Milly whispered. “Today must be hard for you.”
“It has been,” Stanley nodded stoically.
Milly looked at Dolphy, “I’m concerned about him. His wounds are still fresh.”
“I’ll bandage him and clean him,” Stanley offered.
“Why, professor!” Milly giggled. “Found courage?”
“I can do it,” Stanley nodded.

***

Stanley lifted up Dolphy’s shirt and saw deep gashes, bruises. He sighed, took the warm soapy washcloth, and started to rinse them.
Dolphy woke up.
“What are you doing, mister?” asked Dolphy.
“I’m cleaning your wounds,” Stanley replied.
“They’ve always been there,” Dolphy sat up. “They were caused in my former life, when the orphanage ward beat me for stealing extra food.”
“You were an orphan?”
“Yes, mister.”
“What was that like?”
Dolphy closed his eyes and then opened them, “I can’t recall all of it, sir. On the other side, we don’t try to remember those things the most. It’s only when I’m on this side that I notice anything.”
Stanley noticed the more he washed Dolphy’s wounds, the more they faded – almost as if he was healing Dolphy.
“Did you know love, Dolphy?” Stanley rinsed the washcloth in the bucket.
“I knew society’s cruelty and coldness,” Dolphy bit his lip. “I didn’t know my parents.”
“That sounds painful,” Stanley continued washing.
Stanley’s eyes widened as the wounds disappeared more and more.
Then he made eye contact with Dolphy, “Your wounds are disappearing.”
“Ah, yes, sir… that happens when I experience love.”
“Love?”
“Yes, sir. Love.”
“I’m not feeling anything though.”
“Love ain’t a feeling, sir. It’s something you do.”
As the last of Dolphy’s wounded disappeared, Stanley put the washcloth back: “What is it you missed the most when you were alive, Dolphy?”
“I missed the warmth of an embrace, sir,” Dolphy explained. “I missed knowing what it was like to belong.”
Stanley smiled and sat on the bed, hugged him.
Dolphy was confused at first, and then slowly gave way to his hug.
“Do you feel anything, mister?” Dolphy asked.
“No,” Stanley said. “Not yet.”
“That’s okay. I feel it, especially for the both of us.”
As Stanley continued to hold Dolphy, he felt Dolphy’s fast heartbeat slow down in rhythm to his own. All that mattered to Stanely at that moment was just the two of them. They both found the innocence that was taken from them so long ago.

***

Stanley saw Milly tuck in Dolphy and then turn towards Stanley.
“You should get some rest, Professor,” Milly nodded.
“I should,” Stanley forced a smile. “It’s getting late.”
“It’s early!” Milly laughed.
“I know.”
Milly walked towards Stanley and hugged him.
“Thank you, Professor, for hosting us. We had nowhere else to go. I knew you were a good man. You’re hurting. That’s all.”
“Thank you, Milly,” Stanley whispered. “I love you like a daughter.”
“I love you too, Stanley.”
“I’m thankful you came into my life. I care about you. I hope you know that, somewhere deep inside.”
“I do, Stanley. I do.”

***

Stanley lay down in bed and stared at the ceiling.
“Lord,” he prayed. “Give me another chance. Let me feel. I won’t take another day for granted again for as long as I live. I’m sorry for refusing these gifts. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused today. Help me to appreciate each day, and cherish our friendship deeper.”
Stanley closed his eyes, sighed, and fell into a deep sleep.
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This publication is part 105 of 105 in the series 12 Days of Christmas