SECOND CHANCE
By Joan Stephens
Gliding from shadow to shadow in the
moon-bathed park, Vincent paused and glanced up at the enormous alabaster orb.
It seemed so close that if he reached out he could touch the cheek of the
woman in the moon. Many cultures of this world believe there is a woman, not a
man, in the moon. And in his fancies that is what he chose to believe. “Are
you there watching me, my love?” he asked with a sad whimsy. It had been a
long, devastating year since the last time he had walked through the park,
Catherine’s small, trusting hand encased in his.
Father had been so pathetically enthusiastic
when he had told him that he needed to walk the park once again. “I think you
should, my son. It’s been a long time since you have strolled under the trees.
I told you if you would wait a year everything would be better. And now it is.
“
“Yes, Father.” Vincent didn’t have the heart
to disagree with his solicitous parent, but as far as he was concerned nothing
was better. He had been ready to follow Catherine into that undiscovered
country after her death, but Father had prevailed upon him to live one more
year to see if his grief and pain would diminish, to at least give it a try
for his son. It had not. The wound of her loss was still raw and bleeding, and
he had decided.
He had even tried to return Diana’s love but
finally he had to explain to her that even though he loved her it was the love
of a friend and not that of a lover. He tried to explain how he had given his
heart to Catherine and that it had gone with her into the grave. It had
greatly distressed him to see that strong, vibrant woman turn and stumble away
from him, blinded by her tears.
He wished he had never tried to love her. She
deserved more than he was able to give to her.
Starting his perambulations again, he thought
he heard Catherine’s liquid silver trill of laughter. No! It couldn’t be, and
he stopped to lean against the trunk of an enormous oak. This was not the
first time he had heard her much missed laughter. One evening, as he paced the
bridge in the Whispering Gallery, he had been cut to the core by a bit of
laughter that sounded just like hers. But he convinced himself that it
couldn’t be her. Now, he wasn’t so sure, and as he hurried through the
underbrush chasing this will-o’-the-wisp, he suddenly realized what he was
doing: pursuing the sound of a dead woman’s laughter. Desolate, he turned to
go back to the tunnels and the long step off the bridge into the abyss. As he
pushed through the underbrush, he was stopped by the sudden, glowing
appearance of the spirit who had shown him what the lives of his loved ones
would have been like if he had died as a baby. “You can’t stop me this time,
Spirit,” he said firmly as he brushed her hand from his chest.
“She is alive,” whispered the shining figure
so like his love that he lost himself momentarily, gazing at her and did not
fully understand her.
“Wha-at?” he asked with uncertainty.
“She is not dead; she lives. Feel her,” the
spirit said as she placed her hand over his heart and pressed slightly, “here,
Vincent.”
His eyes began to glow with excitement as he
felt that long lost connection reform between their two hearts. “But how? How
can this be? I felt her die; I felt her leave me, the emptiness in my heart.”
He started to move again in the direction of the tunnels.
Restraining him with only one small hand, the
spirit said, “The Elders have watched your love grow and unfold and mourned
with you at its untimely end. They have decided to give you another chance at
love. You are very special to them. “
“Why?” he asked, quivering in anticipation.
“I don’t know but understand this: you will
not be a participant in this love. You will watch as all the events of your
past with Catherine unfold again. You will see all the mistakes you made, all
the opportunities you missed. “
“Are they punishing me?” he exclaimed angrily,
aghast at the thought of reliving the joy and pain of his love for Catherine
but not being able to hold her in his empty arms.
Calmly, with folded hands, she replied, “No,
only to teach you. For you to learn the truth of love. For every lover there
is a different truth. Find that truth, Vincent, and you will have found a
precious gem of knowledge. “
He looked down at her, his eyes steely with
anger, “And what is that, that a beast doesn’t deserve to be loved?”
“That is your anger talking not what you truly
feel. Don’t anger them; they may withdraw this opportunity.
“Opportunity?I can’t even relive that time,
some other person�thing--that looks like me gets to hold and love Catherine.
“The anguish in his voice almost broke the icy serenity of the spirit.
“Believe me, Vincent, he is you. He will love
her as you, will make the same mistakes . . . “
“And I am supposed to learn from this?” he
asked sarcastically. “For what purpose?I am still apart from Catherine. “
“Yes, but you alone have been given the power
to change destiny, to save her, to save yourself,” she told him with hardly a
change of inflection in her voice.
His mind pounced on three words to save her.
What was the spirit saying? How could he save Catherine if he was only an
onlooker?” How? I will only be able to watch. “
“True but as you watch and learn you will
notice certain times that could be changed if you had had the courage to
follow your dreams. “
“To follow my dreams,” he mused, his eyes
glistening with unshed tears. “That’s all it takes?” he marveled.
“Yes, but there is only one right nexus that
will save Catherine. If you make the wrong choice all will end as before, and
this time there will be no second chance. “
“How will I know?” he exclaimed, pacing
nervously.
“It is for you to decide, Vincent. “
Pleading, he asked, “Can’t you give me a hint
or something?”
She shook her head and answered simply, “No. “
“When does it begin?” he asked. Anxious but
oddly reluctant, he was ready to begin. Much depended on him to make the right
decision. And he wasn’t sure how he would handle being a voyeur in his own
life.
“Now,” she answered, fading into a shadow of
herself.
“Wait! What happens if I make the right
decision?”
“You will become part of your life again, and
you and Catherine will have a long life together. “Her voice drifted into his
mind and faded into stillness. He closed his eyes, wondering what would happen
now.
************
His eyes flew open at the sound of tires
screeching to a stop. He saw himself hurrying to a bundle lying on the damp
ground. It was beginning. Following his alter-ego (that’s what he called the
other Vincent), he relived the shatteringly beautiful flowering of the Bond as
they returned to the tunnels. Once again he beheld the ruined loveliness of
the woman who became the living embodiment of his soul. He ached to take her
in his arms and comfort her. “Spirit, I didn’t know it would hurt so much,” he
achingly whispered.
And so it went as he watched the last two and
a half years of his life with Catherine. He was tempted to interfere when she
almost fell in love with Elliot Burch but thought better of it: it was too
early in their relationship. Then there was Providence but once again it was
still too early. There was Lin and Henry Pei’s wedding, the time she went to
Nancy’s when he had decided that she needed to be free, the night she came to
see him after he had saved her and Elliot from the death squad and she had
kissed him�oh the feel of her lips had been heavenly. He almost decided then.
There were so many times he could have told her how deep were his feelings,
but he was learning. He witnessed all the mistakes he had made: not
listening to her heart, discounting the words she said, deciding that he and
he alone knew what was best for her, not listening to his own heart and the
Other who lived inside him, who would always protect her. His worst mistake
was his overweening pride in his belief that he could decide how she was to
live her life. It was a wonder that she had fought for their love and had not
left him. If he had listened to all she had said and did and believed that she
truly loved him, she would be alive today. He had been ten different kinds of
a fool.
Finally, he had decided on the moment of his
confession of love and desire, hoping it was the right one. He relived his
inevitable descent into madness, the treachery and death of John Pater, and
the wonder of the events in the deep cave where he had withdrawn to fight a
losing battle with his demons. He glowed with pride as Catherine bravely
confronted him and brought him back from the edge of black death. He wept with
joy when he saw how tenderly they loved and how gently they took one another.
It was as he had always hoped it would be but feared that it was not. Now he
knew that he had made the right choice.
He watched his disorientation, his partial
amnesia, and his pitiful whining at losing the bond. But he knew something
that his alter-ego didn’t: the bond would be restored with the birth of the
child.
The time was approaching when he would change their destiny for better or
worse . . .
************
He watched as Catherine came Below to tell him
of the child she was carrying: his child. He noted the strained look on her
face as he listened to himself bemoaning the fact that he had lost the Bond,
feeling sorry for himself. “Look at her, you fool. Listen to her,” he raved.
But the other Vincent was so wrapped up in his own misery that he was
oblivious to her trepidation and pain. Impatiently he waited as Catherine
tried to reassure the other Vincent that the Bond was not lost and that there
were so many gifts waiting for him if he would only open his arms. At last, he
slowly opened his arms. Entering them, she set aside her troubles until
another day. As the other Vincent closed his arms around the woman he loved,
he said, “Now, tell me. Tell me what’s troubling you. “And she made the
ultimate sacrifice by saying, “Another time. Don’t worry. “
Now! Vincent’s consciousness literally leaped
into the other Vincent and, being the stronger, immediately took control. A
silent shout of “Yes! ” echoed in his mind.
Taking her by the forearms, he put her away
from him and gazed penetratingly into her astonished eyes. “No, Catherine, it
is important. You must tell me. “
Her eyes slid away from his, coming to rest on
the far wall of his chamber. “All right, but I don’t know how to begin. “
“Just begin. “
Looking everywhere but at him, she made her
confession, “When I followed you into the cave, we made love . . . “She
stopped, waiting for his words of denial.
“Go on. Finish it,” he demanded.
“I’m pregnant; we’re going to have a baby. “
“Oh my love, that’s wonderful, that’s
marvelous! ”
“You’re not upset?” His unexpected reaction
unbalanced her.
“Upset? Why would I be upset?”
“W-well,” she stammered, “y-you always s-said
that our d-dream was nothing m-more than a d-dream. “
“I was wrong. Obviously . . . very wrong. “
He had chosen the right time; Catherine would
live. But now came the difficult task of convincing her to give the case to
someone else, to ignore her sense of duty. It was the only way he knew to keep
her safe; she must come Below and live with him. “We’re having a baby,” he
shouted, whirling her around. “Oh Catherine, I love you so very much. “
She staggered slightly when he returned her to
her feet. “You’re not mad?” The sudden change in him from unhappy confusion to
confident delight confounded her. He was suddenly so strong and sure of
himself. “What’s happened to you?” she asked.
Throwing his head back, he laughed happily, “Someday I’ll tell you a sad
story, my love, that has a happy ending, but now I’m too gloriously happy to
spend any time on a sad tale. Just know, I am well, I am happy, and I remember
everything . . . everything. “With a gentle tug of a finger beneath her
chin, he raised her worried eyes to his. “Everything,” he emphasized. Her eyes
widened as she understood what he meant.
Throwing her arms around him, her face glowed
with joy. “And you’re not mad at me for taking advantage of you?”
He shook his head, “How could I when your
actions brought me back from the darkness and look at the result. “
“Well . . . you can’t see anything yet.
“She was completely baffled by his change in demeanor and his rapid return to
health. There was something happening here that she didn’t understand, but she
was afraid to examine it too closely, afraid that it would disappear.
Vincent suddenly turned serious. He couldn’t
let her know that he knew about the black book. Yet somehow he would have to
get her to agree to leave the DA’s office and the book. He didn’t realize how
easy it would be.
For the first time that evening since his abrupt change, he seemed hesitant.
“Catherine, if I asked you to come Below to live, would you do it?”
“Are you asking me to live with you?”
Dumbly, he nodded. He was startled as she
began to cry. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you. “
Shaking her head vigorously, she searched in
her pockets for a tissue. “No . . . no . . . It’s not that,” she gulped
through the sobs. “I never thought you’d ask me. Oh Vincent,” she wailed, “how
soon can I move down?”
“Then you’ll do it?” He pulled her in to him
as she tearfully nodded. “Tonight?”
“Oh-h-h-h,” she sobbed, crying even harder as
she nodded her head.
“Tomorrow you can send a note to the office,
giving them your resignation, all right?”
“But I’m on a very important case; I can’t
just leave. Joe would never forgive me,” she protested.
“But you can. There are others who can take
your place. Believe me, my love, it is too dangerous for you and the baby to
remain on this case. “
There it was again: that indefinable something
in his voice that warned her that he knew more than he was telling her.
“Have you had one of your dreams?” she asked,
gazing into his earnest eyes.
“Something like that,” he answered and
shuddered as he whispered to himself, “I can’t lose you again. “
“All right,” she acquiesced, “I’ll do whatever
you say. “
“Oh thank you,” he released a deep sigh, “I
promise you: you’ll never regret it. “
This time Vincent was there for all the joys
and mishaps of Catherine’s pregnancy. He held her head through the morning
sickness, cleaned up after her, listened to her complaints about being too fat
and ugly, watched his son grow inside the woman he loved until she was so
large that she waddled like a duck - which he considered so
endearing--suffered through her mood swings and finally held his lustily
crying, red, wrinkled, squirming son in his hands. Bowing his head, he sent a
heartfelt �thank you’ to the Elders for this second chance.
*************
A month later he had a restless desire to walk
in the Park. The night was similar to the one in which he had met the spirit.
Sitting against the same oak tree, still and silent with his head bowed, he
fell into a deep sleep. He awoke with a start, a cold dread settling over him.
It had all been a dream. A horrible, miserable dream that his subconscious had
foisted on him. Too miserable, he neglected to seek the Bond. Heavy at heart,
he levered himself to his feet and trudged through the park to the threshold.
He would finish what he had started: the bridge and the abyss still called to
him. There were no more reasons to put it off.
As the gate softly clanged shut behind him, he
felt the fluttery brush of her happiness. Could it be? Was she? There was only
one way to find out. Running flat out, he flew through the tunnels and stopped
breathless in the entrance to his chamber. Smiling at him in anticipation, she
was there, holding the child.
“You’re here,” he sobbed.
Cocking her head, questioningly, she answered,
“I’m always here, silly. “
That night he told her of the Spirit, and the
Elders, and their second chance at happiness.
************
In later years as he fondly watched his
children play on the floor of his chamber, he couldn’t seem to separate dream
from reality and eventually he accepted both. The dream - if it was a dream -
was a painful lesson, one he kept close to his heart. It was so easy to lose
those you cherish. He was ever mindful of how desolate his life would be
without them.