Unbreakable by Barbara Handshy Anderson (Section 1)

When I got the three season DVD set of Beauty and the Beast I remembered how much I loved the series when it was new in the 1980s. Sadly, I also remembered how much I disliked the way it ended. It felt unfinished to me. Surely after all that Catherine and Vincent had gone through, they deserved to end up together. I firmly believe that any story that begins with “Once upon a time…” deserves to end with “… ever after.” Since I renewed my acquaintance with the show in 2013, this alternate resolution to the story has been bouncing around in my head. I wonder if Ron Koslow has been haunted over the years by his “Unfinished Symphony"? If so, I would remind him that “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens, which was a centerpiece of the series, actually had two endings. The original ending was unsatisfactory to his friends and so he made it better. So I have taken it upon myself to make it right. This is my feeble effort, such as it is….

**Many thanks to Judith Nolan and Angie Burns for their kind encouragement and editorial expertise.

Listen as you read; 03 Laura's Theme - Beauty and the Beast - Of Love and Hope http://youtu.be/EpsAUOx-lns

“…That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the first link on one memorable day.” [1]

… two years since Vincent had brought his tiny, miraculous son home with him to the tunnels. He couldn’t look at the face of his little boy without seeing the face of the woman he had lost or without marveling at the miracle little Jacob was to him. He shuddered to think what Catherine’s death would have done to him if she had not left this precious, priceless gift to fill the gaping hole in his heart. Sometimes he almost thought he could feel her presence as he read to the boy or played with him in his chamber. As Vincent watched his sleeping son, he drifted off to sleep, wishing that Catherine could have seen the beautiful masterpiece their love had made.

In his dreams Vincent found himself standing at her graveside. It was a dream he had from time to time. She would come there and comfort him with a poem he had heard somewhere before…

Two years. It’s hard to believe that two years have passed since the last time I laid eyes on you, Vincent, and our beautiful son. It feels like a lifetime. There are no words to tell you how much I miss you. I sometimes find myself wandering the tunnels in my dreams. I sometimes find myself in your chamber watching you rock our son or read to him the way you used to read to me. In my dreams, it seems so real that I can almost touch you. And then I wake up and remember that it can never be. I find comfort knowing that you have each other. Do you ever dream of me Vincent? If you do, I hope it doesn’t cause you pain. I hope there is sweetness in the memory.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die. [2]

I am not sure how to explain to you the choices I have made or even where to begin. I don’t know why it even matters, because you will never read this. If I had tried to explain it to you in person, Vincent, I know you never would have let me go. I know you would have sacrificed everything for me. You’ve proven that over and over again. Now it’s my turn to sacrifice for you, for our child, and for everyone in the tunnels who has given me so much. If I had stayed, if I had taken refuge there, I would have endangered not only you and our son, but the very existence of the world Father has created. I hope that by putting it down on paper I will somehow find peace in the life I now find myself. I hope you know how truly, how deeply I loved you, still love you…will always love you. I don’t regret a moment of what we had together or the choices I have made. I only regret that I have caused you so much pain. I regret that I have never touched our son, or held him in my arms, or sung to him the way my own mother sang to me. I have no doubt that he will grow up surrounded by love. You and Father will make sure of that. Knowing that you are both alive and safe and that you have each other gives me the strength to stay away.

Where can I begin? I suppose I should begin in the cave where you came a breath away from dying in my arms. You knew that the connection we had with each other was broken that terrible night when you nearly lost your life. You assumed afterward that something must be broken in you. Not for one moment did you suspect any other possibility. I was waiting for you to regain your strength before explaining it to you. I thought there would be time for that. I was wrong. You see … the connection was broken by me…

I have never been as frightened as I was that night. You died in my arms, Vincent[3], and I couldn’t face a life without you in it, my world without you in it. (It sounds foolish now because by the choices I’ve made I find myself facing my life without you in it after all. But you are alive, Vincent, and that has to be enough) By some miracle you began to breathe again and as I held you for what seemed like an eternity, all I could do was pray … and think.

In those hours, as I watched your every breath, I began to ask myself what part I had played in bringing you to that point. I began asking myself difficult questions that I had been too selfish, too foolish, or too afraid to ask before. Questions like; What had it done to you each time you came to rescue me from my own recklessness? Had you ever killed anyone before the first time you saved me? And if not, what had that done to you? How it must have wounded your gentle spirit. How could I have been so blind to your pain, to the torment that loving me had caused you? I was so ashamed by what the answers said about me and the incredible selfishness of my love. I nearly destroyed you with my love, Vincent, and you willingly let me do it. In those dark hours in that cave I made a bargain, a solemn promise with God, with the universe, and with myself, that if by some miracle you lived through that awful night, I would do everything in my power to make sure you would never again feel my fear or be tortured by my emotions. I knew that if you were going to live, our connection had to be broken. I knew I could do it. I HAD TO DO IT! I had done it once before, when Paracelsus had taken me.[4] I just didn’t know how hard it would be. And I had no idea at the time how soon my commitment to that promise with God would be tested.

I was investigating a case which led me to knowledge of things that put me, as well as others, in danger. I was betrayed and kidnapped by someone I trusted. In that awful moment I wanted so desperately to reach out to you, to call out to you. But the memory of that promise and my fear of destroying you were greater than my fear of being kidnapped.

I was drugged repeatedly. They wanted information that I couldn’t give them. I worried that the drugs could harm our baby, our child that was growing inside of me. In my drugged desperation I called out to you on the pipes[5], and you found me. You came so close, Vincent. Afterward I was so angry with myself for my weakness. I was worried that by reaching out to you that night, by making you kill for me again, you would relapse into that dark place. I was so ashamed and angry at myself for putting you yet again in danger.

The man who kept me, I eventually knew as Gabriel. He was fascinated, by me… He became obsessed with you… After keeping me for months I realized that he wanted our child… He wanted you too.

Over those months I didn’t know what to do. He never spoke to me, but I could feel him watching me. If I let you feel my emotions, I knew you would come to me. I knew you would kill for me. I knew you would rescue me or die trying. But if I called to you, if I allowed you to feel my fear, then you might sink back into that awful place that God had brought you back from, or worse. If I didn’t call out to you, I could lose our child.

When our son was born, I finally saw the man, Gabriel, face to face for the first time. I never knew before that moment that evil had a face. And the doctor gave our child to him! He placed our precious, beautiful, miraculous son into the arms of evil. I begged and he let me look at him for a few seconds. I was so filled with love for him in that moment, and then he was gone. The doctor injected me with something. It wasn’t until then that I fully realized I was going to die. He said I wouldn’t suffer.

As I felt myself slipping away, I heard the helicopter, and I thought I felt you. Somehow I got to the roof… and you were there, Vincent. I’m still not sure how you found me. But in that instant I felt such comfort that you were there, such sorrow, that in death I would again cause you pain, and relief, because I knew that you would find a way to save our precious son.

As I slipped into darkness, I felt so overwhelmed by the sweetness of you. You held me in your arms so gently and whispered my name. You smelled so wonderful. I could feel your warm tears on my face. It was as if I had been in the desert, dying of thirst, and your tears were the sweetest water I had ever tasted. I felt so safe in your embrace. I was finally home, in your arms. I could feel you carrying me. I was comforted by the thought that you were taking me home to the tunnels with you. I thought that even though I couldn’t live in your world in life, at least I could be there with you in death. I was finally going home to stay.

After my father died, you became my only home, Vincent. Some people dream of a home as a beautiful house filled with beautiful things. But Vincent, there was never a home more beautiful to me than the home you made for me in your arms. It was a wonderful place to die … if one must die … but then … I didn’t die, did I?

After a while I became confused. When it happened before … you remember the time[6]… I saw a beautiful light. I saw my parents reaching for me. I heard my mother calling my name. I was filled with happiness and enveloped in the warmth of their love.

This was different. It was just very dark. I could feel you. I could feel you breathing ... and softly crying. I could hear the sounds of the night. I was aware of everything, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak.

I could feel you carrying me … but you didn’t take me to the tunnels. You didn’t take me home with you. When I realized we were in my apartment, I was even more confused. But you stayed there with me. You held my hand. You quietly wept. I began to think that I might not die after all. Maybe you knew I was only sleeping. I began to think that you were just waiting for me to wake up. But I wasn’t sleeping, I was awake. I was aware of every breath, every tear. And then you kissed me and said “goodbye”. Your words are forever etched into my heart and mind. You softly whispered, “While I live, you live, with me, in me … Always.” I tried then to call out to you. In my head I begged you not to leave me. I knew I wasn’t safe. I was so afraid. In that moment I didn’t care about the promise I had made. I just wanted you to come back and take me with you. But you couldn’t hear me. You couldn’t feel me …

I haven’t written for a while. It’s difficult feeling the emotions that come with the memories. But I feel compelled to write it down. I hope it will help me move past it. I have to move past this. I have to be in control of my emotions, or I am afraid that you will know and you will find me. You can never find me, Vincent.

… I’m not sure how long I laid there alone in my apartment. I was afraid to be there alone. I tried to call out to you.[7]

The next thing I remember is voices … confusion … people. I don’t know who. Looking back, I’m sure it was the police. My apartment was a crime scene. They thought I was dead too. I heard someone say, “Bag her hands, I don’t want to lose anything on the way in.” As they put me in the body bag I was screaming in my head, I’M NOT DEAD!!!! But they couldn’t hear me. No one could hear me.

I must have lost consciousness then, because I don’t remember anything until I woke up.

I was in a small room. Everything was white. The walls were white. The bedding was white. My clothes were white. The door was white. Even the door knob was white. I wasn’t sure if I was dead or in a hospital. I felt like I was in a dream or a fog. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make anything work. There was a television high on the wall and two cameras mounted in the corners near the ceiling. When I looked for the window to see if it was daytime or night, I realized there were no windows. I thought maybe I was in a mental hospital. I couldn’t pull my thoughts together. Was I dead after all?

I dreamed I was on my old balcony last night. But it was different. Looking through the window, I could see that someone else was living there. There were no traces of my life left. No sign that I had ever been there. I could see the lights of the city as clearly as I ever did. But it was cold and you weren’t there. Sometimes I wonder if there is any trace of me left anywhere. Being dead … and yet not being dead is … Sometimes I feel so lost.

… When they walked into the room … My heart sank as I realized it was the doctor and the nurse who had cared for me all those months that I was pregnant, before I died. When I saw their faces, I was stunned and confused. Were you just a dream? Or did I really die in your arms? I tried to speak. I wanted to ask them where my baby was. Was he all right? When could I see him? But they didn’t speak to me. They just checked my vital signs … and then they…

…I can’t even bring myself to write it … my hand shakes very time I try … but I was sure then that I was alive. I had no idea how long it had been since … since anything.

There was no way to track time. I had no idea where I was or when it was. I stayed awake until I got tired and then I slept. Sometimes when I woke up there was food in my room. Sometimes when I woke up it was gone. Sometimes it seemed like the lights were not turned off for days. Other times it felt like I spent days in the dark. I spoke to no one and no one spoke to me. Sometimes I could hear a baby crying. I don’t know if that was real or if I imagined it. I began to think I must be insane or I really was dead. Or was someone trying to drive me insane? It felt like I was buried alive.

One day he came there, to my room. That’s when he told me his name was Gabriel. I have never felt such evil in the presence of anyone. Was he even human?

He said, “You intrigue me, Miss Chandler.” And then he said, “Your strength is a rare thing. Where does it come from? Does it come from him? Who is he? What is he? Does he have a name? Tell me, Miss Chandler, where does he live? He must live somewhere.”

“You do know you’re dead, don’t you?” He laughed softly then… “At least to everyone who ever cared about you. They’ve all stopped looking for you, Catherine. The investigation is closed. It’s as if you never even existed.”

He said, “You had a lovely funeral, by the way. People cried. They threw dirt and flowers into your grave. And then they all went on with their lives … But HE didn’t come. I wonder why?”

He was quiet for a while as he just stood there watching me. I guess he was looking for some sort of reaction … I knew that I couldn’t give him that satisfaction. I couldn’t let myself feel anything. I met his gaze. I didn’t want him to see any weakness in me.

He kept asking me questions like; “He’s magnificent. Who is he? I want to meet him. Will you tell me where he lives? I admire his strength, his power. Don’t you want him to meet his child?”

I felt such cold when he was there. When I didn’t speak, he became impatient. His voice became even more frightening.

“No one is unbreakable Miss Chandler. I’ve broken many strong men and I can break you.” He hissed at me and it sent chills through me.

I suppose I had gotten used to being silent, because I felt no desire to speak or respond to him in any way. I just met his stare and tried to show no emotion.

Will this day ever pass without the memory of the wonder and love you brought into my life? The night you found me, Vincent, and everything changed. The sadness is overwhelming sometimes, but I wouldn’t exchange what we had together for anything. I suppose the pain is the price… the price for the amazing gift that you were to me. The memory of your love still gives me strength.

There is a passage in Great Expectations where Pip says, “That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the first link on one memorable day.” [8]

There is such truth in those words, Vincent. I can still hear your voice when I read them. I would not exchange that memorable day for anything.

I suppose I should finish telling you how I managed to get where I am today. Not that I believe you will ever read this, Vincent, but because I need to explain it to make sense of it to myself.

After my first encounter with Gabriel I saw very little of him. I have no idea how long I was there … in that room … in that tomb, or why he was even keeping me alive. I believe he just found some sick pleasure in trying to make me suffer. Maybe if I had given him the satisfaction of seeing my pain, he would have put me out of my misery, but I refused to show him my pain.

Sometimes I could hear our son crying in my dreams. And in my dreams I discovered that I could walk through the walls that held me prisoner during my waking hours, and I would follow the sound of his cries until I found his crib. Even in my dreams he was amazing and beautiful. I dreamed that he had your eyes. I would sing to him, the lullaby that my mother used to sing to me, and he would always stop crying. But whenever I reached out to touch him, the dream would end. My dreams actually became more real to me than the reality of my prison. Sometimes they still are. Maybe I am crazy…

Once in a while I would even find myself wandering the tunnels in my dreams. I think I was looking for you. I found you once, in that dark cave where you almost died. I called out to you to remind you to come and save our child.[9] But when you looked up, the dream ended, and I was back in my private tomb.

I was a little afraid that by calling out to you in my dreams that you would hear me. I can control my thoughts and my emotions while I am awake, Vincent. But sooner or later everyone has to sleep.

He, Gabriel, came to my cell not long before the end. He said, “I’m sorry to inform you Miss Chandler, that Elliot Burch and Vincent …. are … dead. My deepest condolences.”

He had a disgusting smirk on his face as he said, “They died bravely, if that helps. But they were weak fools ... in the end, just like everyone else. Their love for you was their downfall if that makes it better?[10] Nevertheless, Miss Chandler, dead is still … dead.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like the walls were closing in on me. But I couldn’t let myself believe him. I couldn’t accept that I could be the reason, the cause of your destruction. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for the path of destruction I have left behind me. If Elliot had never met me, he would probably still be alive. How many other people would still be alive if they had never known me? How many lives were ruined because of me?

I needed to believe that you were still alive, Vincent. You were my only hope for our son. I’m not sure how I managed to live through those days. I suppose it was the love I had for our son and the hope that when I slept, I might be able to watch over him in my dreams.

One day when I woke up the television monitor was on in my room. I could see you. You were in a cage, chained to a wall[11]. It was the first time I had seen you with my waking eyes, since that night … the night I died. Seeing you there, and knowing you were alive and so close stirred so many emotions in me. I was so relieved to see that you were alive. I was so frightened for you, for all of us, when I realized that now he had us all. He was playing with us, like a psychopath that tortures small animals before he tires of them and kills them. I could feel the shreds of my hope slipping away. I wanted so badly to reach out to you, Vincent, but I was so afraid that revealing myself would only make everything worse. I was trying so hard to keep myself from feeling anything.

I watched when you met our child for the first time,[12] held your son for the first time. What does it feel like Vincent, to hold our miracle in your hands? I ache when I think that I have never touched him, never smelled his sweetness, never kissed his little cheeks. I cherish the memory of the amazement and wonder on both of your faces as you looked at each other for the first time. I could see and feel the overwhelming love you had for him. It gave me, still gives me, such strength. I think somehow the two of you saved each other that day.

I saw everything else Gabriel did to you too.[13] How he tortured you…. Can you ever forgive me, Vincent?

Gabriel said, “No one is unbreakable.” He was right. I felt something shatter inside of me that day to see you suffer so. There are no words to tell you how sorry I am for what you went through because of me.

I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for what you have suffered because you chose to love me, Vincent. I vowed then that if by some miracle we lived through it all, that I would go as far away from you as I possibly could to protect you from me.

Knowing that I only have the power to cause you pain, Vincent, breaks my heart. Please believe that all I ever wanted to do was love you. I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….

The last day. The day it all ended. I believe he was going to kill us all. I could feel something terrible bearing down on me. It all happened so fast. I saw on my television as Gabriel killed the doctor when you refused. How he taunted you.

The nurse that had been my captor, my minder for so long, came into my room. She had a syringe. I was sure she was going to kill me. But having you so near gave me strength and I was determined to resist her to my last breath. She looked at me so strangely. With fear? I’m not sure. She didn’t speak, and then she turned and left without closing the door. I don’t know if she meant to do that or if she just made a mistake. I didn’t have the courage to walk through the open door for quite some time. At some point I heard a terrible roaring. I knew that it must be you. I saw on the monitor how you tore apart your cage to save our son. You must have been near because I could smell the scent of your burned flesh in the air. I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of dread. As I left my prison I was disoriented. I felt such urgency in that moment but I had no idea where I was or where to go. I was in a basement. It was large. There were barrels and boxes everywhere. Then I heard something from the far end of the room so I hid. I saw a woman I had never seen before come out of a hole in the wall. She had a gun. She heard you too. I heard her whisper your name. She passed by me quickly. I was frozen with fear. I was shaking from head to toe. I was so afraid that I would be caught. I could hear your rage. And then it was quiet. I thought I heard a gunshot from somewhere.

And then you were there. I could see that you had our son in your arms. You passed by so close to me that I could have touched you. I almost reached out to you. I tried to whisper your name. But it had been so long since I had spoken to anyone that I couldn’t. Then I remembered my vow. I knew that as long as I was in your life, you would always be in danger. You would always be tormented by me. I know now that I only have the power to destroy you, and our son. I watched as you climbed into that hole in the wall and escaped from that nightmare.

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, and then I followed you into the hole. I followed as quietly as I could. I didn’t want you or anyone else to hear me. When I came out into the larger tunnels, I was eventually able to find my way up into the street. I must have looked so strange, dressed in white and covered with dirt. I hid in an alley for a long time. I’m not sure how long. Some of it is kind of a blur. I desperately needed help, but I didn’t know who to trust.

Somehow I found my way to Peter Alcott. He was so shocked when he saw me standing there at his door. He looked like he was seeing a ghost. Huh…I guess he was. I collapsed in his arms. He caught me and brought me inside. He was going to contact Father and tell him that I was alive when I finally found my voice. I screamed, “NO!” I desperately begged him not to contact anyone. He agreed for the time being. And then he put me to bed in a spare room. It was the first time I had felt safe in such a long time.

When I came to myself again I was surprised to find that several days had passed. Peter said I had been ill with a fever for days. He insisted that I stay there with him until he was satisfied that I was well. I reluctantly agreed. After all, where did I have to go anyway? I was dead and I didn’t know who I could trust. If my boss was corrupt, I didn’t know who else might be.

Over the course of the following days, I tried to explain to Peter everything that had happened and why I needed to get as far away from New York as possible. He was reluctant, but he finally agreed to help me. He was able to help me to establish a new identity, Cici Chamberlain: a birth certificate, a driver’s license, a new passport, even a social security number. I’m not sure how he did it, but he even figured out a way for me to access to my finances. Peter has solemnly sworn to keep my secret until the end of his days. I believe he will.

So there it is Vincent, in all its ugliness. A small part of me still dreams that one day I will be able to come back and explain it all to you in person, and you will understand. But I can’t really see how that can ever be.

For the better part of the past two years I have just been wandering the world alone. There are so many beautiful places in the world, Vincent. But I can’t find joy in any of them. Wherever I go, I can only wish that I could share them all with you. Sometimes I think I feel you there, and I think that if I just look quickly enough that I will see you there beside me. As I travel, I am surrounded by people. But I rarely speak to anyone. I hardly ever touch anyone. I feel so disconnected from life. It’s like I really am a ghost, cursed to wander the earth.

Lately I find myself searching for a way to make my life, such as it is, mean something, Vincent. I can’t just keep wandering. Why did I survive? What is the point of living through what I lived through if it doesn’t mean something?

I find comfort in the last words we spoke to each other … “Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.” “While I live, you live, with me, in me … Always.” Those words are burned into my heart.

I wish you peace as well, Vincent. Please love our son for the both of us. I ache every hour of every day for you both.

… Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind –
But how could I forget thee? - Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss? – That thought's return
Was the worse pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.[14]

“Cici Chamberlain” had traveled the world in a fog of pain and loss for almost two years after she left New York. She was trying to heal and to make sense of everything that had happened to her. She was trying to find a reason to go on.

One evening while walking down a busy street in Bangkok, Thailand, something caught her attention. Two small children, a little boy, possibly 7 years old, and a little girl of about 4, both almost naked and very dirty, were foraging in the garbage in an alley. They were celebrating their good fortune at finding a discarded, half eaten mango. Having just begun to enjoy their happy little feast, a shop owner came out of her place of business and shooed them away as if they were stray dogs. The urchins quickly scurried away and huddled together in a nearby bus shelter. The boy lovingly put his arms around the little girl to comfort her and encouraged her to finish her food.

Something about these children tugged at Cici’s heart. It was a shock for her. She had spent most of the last two years trying not to feel anything. She had gone out of her way not to participate in any significant way in the humanity that swirled around her. But something about these forlorn and pitiful little children was pulling her to them. She made her way to a nearby noodle cart and bought a little bag of sticky rice, and chicken satay, and a little bag of juice. She slowly approached the bus shelter so as not to frighten the children. They cowered close together as she approached, so Cici gently lay the food down on the bus bench near them and slowly walked away.

As she walked back to her hotel that night Cici felt very different than she had felt when she had left that morning. She felt the sensation that she was breathing deeply after being deprived of oxygen for a long time. Everything around her seemed like it was in sharper focus. She could feel her heart beating. She was very aware of everything around her. She felt as if a heavy, oppressing fog was beginning to lift. She couldn’t stop thinking about those two pitiful little children.

Over the next several days Cici kept a distant eye on these two children. She was trying to determine if they had anyone taking care of them. As far as she could see they only had each other. Cici wondered how this could be. How could such small children be alone in the world and invisible to everyone around them? And yet Cici had been invisible for the better part of two years. Somehow these little children had found a way to survive, much like the stray dogs that were a normal part of everyday life in this city.

Something needed to be done. Cici couldn’t stand to see these children living in such conditions. She began to search the city for an orphanage or a children’s home that could help. She finally found a Thai worker at a nearby children’s home that was able to approach the children. Over a period of time the story they told her broke Cici’s heart. Which was surprising to her, because Cici didn’t think there was enough left of her heart to break.

When Thanit was about 5 years old and his little sister Noi was 2 years old, their parents had been killed in a tragic accident. They lived in a small village up country. Because of common cultural superstitions, their relatives were sure that these children must somehow be responsible for this tragedy, and they were afraid to take the children in. So they pooled their money and bought bus tickets for them. On the day they were placed on the bus, Thanit’s uncle told him, “This bus is taking you to Bangkok. If you ever come back here, we will kill you.” When the bus stopped in Bangkok, the bus driver put them off of the bus at this bus shelter. It had been their home ever since.

Cici cried herself to sleep that night. How could two little children be so lost and rejected by the world? By the very people who should have loved them and protected them? She didn’t know how long it had been since she had cried. It was both frightening to her and oddly cleansing.

As she drifted off to sleep she found herself wandering the tunnels and watching another small boy playing happily in an old familiar chamber…

Somewhere in a tunnel deep beneath the streets of New York, Vincent had an overwhelming feeling like a dam inside of him had burst. He had to stop what he was doing and try to catch his breath. And then as quickly as this feeling had come, it washed over him and passed. He was confused by it. It felt something like his old connection with Catherine. He felt a need to go back to his chamber and check on little Jacob. As Vincent picked up his little boy and held him tight, he thought he could hear the echo of something Catherine had said to him once in this very room….. “There are so many gifts waiting for you Vincent! All you have to do is open your arms…”[15] He hadn’t fully understood what she was saying to him that day, but now as he held his son in his arms he was keenly aware of what a gift little Jacob was. He thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye. As he turned to look, whoever or whatever it was, was gone.

That night as Vincent slept he found himself lost in the dark, and then he saw it for the first time, the flame of a single candle flickering in the wind.

The orphanage in Bangkok was too full for Thanit and Noi to stay. A place was finally found for them in a children’s home in the country. Cici agreed to accompany them there. She wanted to be sure they ended up in a good place. When Cici arrived at the orphanage with Thanit and Noi, she could see that the orphanage was in desperate need of any help they could get. She decided to stay on for a little while as a volunteer and teach English, and to keep an eye on the children she had saved. The orphanage staff were grateful for any help they could get. During the days and weeks that followed Cici began to find new purpose and direction to her life that would guide and sustain her for many years to come. As it turned out, three orphans found a new home that day.

Looking back years later Cici wondered if she had really saved those two little children, or if they had saved her.

Vincent found himself wandering in his dreams in a strange and magical place. The sky was clear and blue. He was surrounded by ancient ruins of … was it a palace? He wasn’t sure. Everywhere he looked there were ruined towers that still bore witness to their former grandeur. Here and there he could see saffron-draped statues of Buddha. Most of the statues were broken. Then from behind one of the statues appeared … Catherine? She looked sad as she walked among the ruins. Vincent tried to catch up to her, to speak to her. She seemed oblivious to anyone around her. He followed her, intrigued. She walked around a large tree and stopped. She turned to Vincent and motioned for him to come closer. She pointed at the tree trunk and then he saw it. Over the centuries this tree had grown up through and around a part of the ruins and enveloped a beautiful head of one of the broken statues. It was breathtaking how nature had embraced the ruins and made something that was broken into something beautiful. And then he heard her speak.

Smiling, Catherine turned to Vincent and said, “Vincent, what a surprising reminder that there can still be beauty among the ruins.”

Vincent woke up. It seemed as if her voice echoed in his chamber, “… there can still be beauty among the ruins.”

He looked at his sleeping son and agreed that there was indeed still beauty among the ruins. Vincent lay awake for a while pondering the dream as he realized what day it was.

On this day I always find myself missing the people that I love. I spent the day wandering around an immense ancient ruined kingdom. But even in its ruined state it was still stunning and beautiful. A little bit like my love for you, Vincent.

Jake was 5 years old. Vincent could hardly believe that 5 years had passed since his son was born. It was also the anniversary of Catherine’s death, which made the day bittersweet. But even in her death, Catherine had given Vincent the most amazing gift, beyond anything he could ever have imagined, a son. Despite the remembrance of Catherine’s loss, Vincent could not help but feel that his life was incredibly blessed. How he wished they could have shared it together.

His birthday is today, Vincent. Our son is 5 years old. I try not to think too much about the two of you, but there are days like today when I can’t help it. I ache to know that I am missing the joy of watching him grow and discover the magic and wonder in his world. I have to be satisfied with seeing you both in my dreams. Even though I know that they aren’t real, I still cherish them. They are all that I have left.

Vincent and Jacob were the best of friends. The New York Philharmonic was playing Schubert in a concert in Central Park. Vincent thought it was somehow appropriate that Jacob’s first concert would be Schubert.[16] He remembered another concert in the park with Catherine in what seemed like another life.

Jacob was so excited to be going on an adventure with his Dad. He was going to be allowed to stay up past his bedtime. What could be more exciting than that? Jacob was a typical 5 year old boy. He was so full of energy and curiosity and mischief. Just watching him in action was enough to make one tired. Jacob and Vincent had planned carefully for this night. A picnic dinner made up of their favorite foods, including a little chocolate cake.

As they settled in for the concert, Vincent couldn’t help but smile. Ghosts of memories swirled around this spot. Sweet memories of what he had shared here with Catherine intermingled with Jacob’s incessant, excited chatter. Vincent still looked at Jacob from time to time with amazement and wonder at the miracle that was his son.

Jacob was playing with a favorite carved wooden toy. He had a little bit of chocolate icing on his face that bore witness to how much he had enjoyed his picnic dinner. As Jacob looked up he could see a strange expression on his father’s face. For a moment he forgot his toy and came close to Vincent’s face. With their noses almost touching he took his father’s face in his little hands and asked, “Are you okay, Daddy?”

Coming to himself, Vincent gave his son a big hug and replied, “I’m fine, Jacob. Why did you ask that?”

Cocking his head to one side and scrunching up his mouth Jacob said, “You had a funny look on your face, Daddy.”

“You mean like this?” Vincent tried another one. As he began to tickle Jacob, they both were reduced to a fit of giggles.

Presently they could hear the sounds of the instruments. The concert was about to begin. Quickly, they put everything back into the picnic basket and settled down for the concert.

Jacob was enthralled by the music. He could feel the magic and reverence of this place, but he was too little to fully understand its significance. He desperately fought off fatigue as the music went on. He snuggled into his father’s big arms, and despite his best efforts to stay awake, his little head began to droop on Vincent’s chest. Just as he started to fall asleep, there was a huge clap of thunder and Jacob was jolted wide awake.

Jacob instinctively threw his arms around his father’s neck and asked, “DADDY? What was that?”

“I think it was thunder, Jacob,” Vincent answered as he hugged his boy tighter.

Just then the rain began to pour through the grate directly above their heads. Jacob jumped to his feet and began to laugh and twirl and dance in the rain.

Vincent was caught up in the moment of pure joy and they laughed together. And then they heard it…. the sound of a woman’s laughter. Vincent recognized it instantly and it pierced him to the heart. They both froze and looked toward it. And there, standing not far from them in the tunnel was … Catherine? … smiling at them … and in that instant she was gone.

They both stood there in stunned silence, in the rain, and looked at the spot where she had just stood.

Jacob was the first to speak. “She came, Daddy! She came! It’s been so long since she came. Did you see her, Daddy? Did you see?”

Roused from his shocked silence, Vincent got down on his knees so he could look at Jacob face to face and asked, “Do you know her, Jacob?”

“Your … angel?” Vincent asked in a confused tone. He felt his head spinning a little.

Jacob just nodded and said, “Uh-huh. She’s my angel, Daddy. She comes sometimes, you know, when I have bad dreams, when the bad man comes and when I’m afraid of the dark.”

“I don’t know, Daddy. Forever … I think. Is that okay?” Jacob was a little concerned.

Vincent picked Jacob up and hugged him. “Yes, Jacob, that’s okay.” Vincent’s heart was overflowing in that moment. “That is very okay, Jacob,” he said as he held his son a little tighter.

Changing the subject Vincent said, “Now, little man, we’d better get home and put on some dry clothes before we catch cold.”

They walked home while Vincent carried a very soggy and sleepy little boy in his arms. As Jacob rested his head on his father’s big shoulders, he told his Dad all about his angel. Drifting off to sleep Jacob sang strains of a lullaby that Vincent thought he had heard somewhere before…Sleep my little one. Rest now my little one. Close your eyes. The day is nearly done. Rest your head. Tomorrow will surely come…[17]

Vincent was amazed and awed by what had happened. Over the past 5 years there had been many times when he thought he had felt her presence or had seen her from the corner of his eye. But whenever he turned to look, she was gone. He had convinced himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Just shadows of memories that lingered in his heart and in the places they had shared. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When Vincent spoke to Father about the amazing experience, Father expressed his concern.

“Are you saying … that you believe Catherine is haunting the tunnels?” he asked, squinting in disbelief.

“No, Father, not haunting, just … watching over us. I don’t know how. I only know what I saw,” Vincent observed.

Father spoke slowly, “The connection … between the two of you, Vincent … was so strong, from the very beginning. But this? Even in death? After all this time it seems as if it’s ...”

When Vincent fell asleep that night he dreamed of another time, and another concert in the park, and his dream was a dream of unexpected joy.[18]

In my dreams last night I found myself in the tunnel underneath the stage in Central Park. I could see you there with our son. In my dream they were playing Schubert and it started to rain. He began to laugh and dance in the rain and it made me smile as I remembered what we had shared there. Sometimes I remember such moments of joy that we shared, Vincent, and I feel so blessed. As I watched you both, I began to laugh and suddenly you both stopped and looked at me. And then I woke up.

10 years, Vincent, since the first time you saved me. How I wish I was spending this day with you and our son. Sometimes it feels like a million years since you were in my life. Sometimes I wonder if it ever really happened at all or if it was all a wonderful and terrible dream. And sometimes I can feel you so close that it seems as if we have never been apart. Be well, Vincent. Be safe, Vincent. Love our son for me, Vincent.

Vincent was always more quiet and subdued around this time every year. As the day approached, she would be more on his mind than usual. He wondered if this day would ever lose its meaning and significance for him. Or would his heart always be drawn back to the memory and the lost dream of her love? The feelings were bittersweet, but somehow he treasured them.

He walked alone through the tunnels until late into the night. When he finally went to sleep he almost immediately found himself transported to a faraway place. Looking around, he thought he was standing on the Great Wall of China. Ever since childhood Vincent had dreamed of someday walking on the Great Wall of China. He had learned early in life that despite his waking limitations, his dreams could take him anywhere. But this dream tonight was beyond anything he had ever dreamed before. He could feel the stones beneath his feet and the warmth of the sun on his face in the afternoon breeze. This was more real than his regular dreams. As he began to walk he thought he could see Catherine a little ahead of him. She stopped and turned.

As he came close, she smiled and said, “Come walk with me in my dreams, Vincent.”

At first he reached for her hand, but she carefully avoided his touch, so he was content to just walk by her side. It seemed to him that they walked for miles in silence side by side. Finally she turned toward him. He could feel the warmth of her love as she said, “If all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream … then I choose to dream of you.”

When he woke up in his chamber he realized he had been walking with Catherine in his dreams for hours.

Sometimes when I am low, I think that I am the only one who has suffered a broken heart and the death of my dreams. Then I find a poem like this one that speaks to the ache of living a life without the one I love and I realize that I am not unique and I am not alone.

I'd rather have the thought of you
To hold against my heart,
My spirit to be taught of you
With west winds blowing,
Than all the warm caresses
Of another love's bestowing,
Or all the glories of the world
In which you had no part.
I'd rather have the theme of you
To thread my nights and days,
I'd rather have the dream of you
With faint stars glowing,
I'd rather have the want of you,
The rich, elusive taunt of you
Forever and forever and forever unconfessed
Than claim the alien comfort
Of any other's breast.

O lover! O my lover,
That this should come to me!
I'd rather have the hope of you,
Ah, Love, I'd rather grope for you
Within the great abyss
Than claim another's kiss-
Alone I'd rather go my way
Throughout eternity.

It was almost time for Winterfest. For the people who lived in the tunnels it was one of the most joyful times of the year. As Vincent, Pascal, Mouse, and young Jacob went down to the Great Hall to see what preparations would be necessary, they were unprepared for what they were about to see. As they approached the door at the top of the stairs Vincent thought he could see a dim light coming from under the door.

He opened the door as quietly as he could so as not to frighten whoever it might be. As he entered the door he could see a single candle flickering on one of the tables. There was a shadow on the wall that looked like a woman dancing. And then he saw her. Dancing around the center of the room was a woman in a beautiful long white gown.

Could it be … Catherine? he thought to himself. Vincent descended the stairs slowly and silently, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. As she danced he could see that her eyes were closed and she had a look of serene happiness on her face. As he came near her in the center of the room she opened her eyes and stopped suddenly. Her look of happiness changed instantly to a look of surprise and fear. As Vincent reached out to touch her … she disappeared.

He looked to the top of the stairs and saw Pascal and Mouse and Jacob looking on in bewildered silence.

After a few moments Pascal said, clapping his hands together, “Okaaay … so what should we do first? These tables aren’t going to repair themselves. Come on Mouse.”

It’s almost time for Winterfest, Vincent. I found my way to the Great Hall last night in my dreams. I loved that room. I stood there in the middle of the room and listened for the music in the wind. There was a single candle lighting the room. I closed my eyes and began to dance there in the dim light and think of you. Sometimes I become too lost in my dreams. But it brings me such comfort when I find myself there. Even if it isn’t real, somehow it seems real to me.

I have learned that even in my dreams I need to stay hidden in the shadows. If anyone sees me, I wake up and it’s over. If I stay in the shadows and no one sees me I can stay longer. Sometimes I wish I could just stay asleep and wander the tunnels forever. Just knowing the two of you are there, nearby, is like a little bit of heaven to me.

Not that I am always sad when I’m awake. I have a good life here. It’s hard work. It keeps me busy and I have found a way to make my life mean something. It fills some of the emptiness in me.

I don’t know how long I was dancing there in the candlelight. But I heard a noise and when I opened my eyes, I saw you standing right in front of me. You were looking right at me, piercing me with your eyes. How long were you standing there, Vincent? You reached out and touched me. And then I woke up and my heart was racing. I was so frightened. I can still feel the touch of your hand on my face. It felt like you had really found me…. You can never find me Vincent!

I haven’t been able to shake the feeling all day that somehow I have revealed myself to you. You can never find me, Vincent. You can never find me. When I am awake I can control my emotions, keep my mind off of you. But I have little control over what happens in my dreams. I hope that is all that they are, just dreams.

You once told me that one day I would live another life, and dream another dream …. You were only half right, Vincent. I am living another life. But there will never be another dream. My only dream is of the life I should have had with you.

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

On this day of all days, Vincent, how I ache to be near you. I think the sweetness and the sadness of your memory will always be entwined around my broken heart. Sometimes I think it might be the only thing that is holding it together.

Vincent couldn’t help it. No matter how many years had passed, he still hoped that at least on this day, if none other, he might dream of her. That if they couldn’t be together in life that at least from time to time they could walk together for a little while in his dreams. Sometimes his wish didn’t come true. But this year, as he slept, his wish led him to her side. He found himself in the dark, walking toward the flame of a single candle. As he came close, the candle diminished, as the sun became brighter and brighter. He could hear the rushing of water. Looking around, he discovered that he was in a forest of lush green trees. And there, walking by his side, was Catherine. She seemed oblivious to his presence, but he didn’t care. He was thankful just to be there beside her. They came out into the bright sunshine and a breathtaking sight, unbelievably beautiful waterfalls. They walked along the edge of a cliff to get a better look. Finally she stopped to sit on some rocks. He watched her there. She seemed to be drinking in the serenity of the falls.

She closed her eyes and said, “Vincent, if I close my eyes I can almost imagine another waterfall in another world, in another life.” He could see her breathe deeply. And then smiling she said, “I go there sometimes in my dreams.”

He couldn’t help himself. Even though he knew it was only a dream, his heart swelled with love for her and he reached to touch her cheek. As he did so she disappeared and he woke up, alone in his chamber.

Every year Catherine looked forward to and dreaded the day at the same time. She never wanted to forget the night that brought Vincent into her life. But it was hard to remember, knowing that he would never be in her life again. She would often find a way to spend the day far away from anyone in her everyday life so that no one would see her as she mourned the death of her dreams.

This year she found herself hiking up to the Shifen Waterfalls in Taiwan. As she came up to the waterfalls, the sight took her breath away. She always found the sound of rushing water soothing. She found a peaceful place to sit. Closing her eyes, she drank in the tranquility that surrounded her. As she sat there she began to imagine another waterfall, in another world, in another lifetime. In the hush she thought she could hear him whisper her name. She could almost feel his hand softly touching her cheek. She lifted her hand to touch his when she opened her eyes and realized there was no one there….

After Cici had finished her teaching for the day, she headed over to the nursery. The orphanage had about 20 infants under the age of 6 months in the nursery these days and only 5 people working over there. Cici had developed a routine of spending a few hours each day there to help them out. She knew that babies needed to be held in order to thrive. And the truth was that there was something therapeutic in caring for tiny humans.

She went into the storage room to get a stack of clean diapers. As she was reaching for them, she thought she heard a faint sound. When she turned to see what it was, she spotted a bassinet in the back of the closet. The sound was coming from there. She slowly and cautiously went toward it. She didn’t want to be caught off guard by a mouse or a rat. But as she came closer she recognized that the sound was coming from a baby. As she lifted the blanket her heart broke for this helpless little person. It was a tiny little girl, not more than 6 pounds. She was no more than 3 days old. Her little face was deformed by a severe cleft lip. Her cries were barely audible, just a little whimper really, as if she had resigned herself to her fate and was trying to be as little trouble as possible.

Cici rushed out to find the nurse in charge of the nursery. When she found her, it was clear that Cici was very upset.

Cici asked, “Su, ทำไมจึงมีลูกน้อยที่ซ่อนตัวอยู่ในตู้เสื้อผ้าที่” “Su, why is there a baby hidden in the back of the store room?”

Su looked very worried and said, “คุณนายครับเข้าพักอยู่ห่างจากลูกน้อยที่ เป็นกำลังจะตายในไม่ช้านี้แล้ว” “Oh Madam, stay away from that baby. It’s going to die soon.”

Cici didn’t understand. “อะไรคือความผิดพลาดกับมัน” “What is wrong with it?”

Su answered, “คุณเห็นใบหน้าของลูกน้อย เธอเป็นเหมือนดั่งสัตว์ร้ายที่ เธอไม่สามารถกินได้ เธอจะตายในไม่ช้านี้แล้ว” “You can see her face, Madam. She like a baby monster. She cannot eat. She die very soon.”

Cici was becoming upset by the whole exchange. She said, “ฉันต้องการลองให้นมเธอ” “I want to try to feed her.”

Su was now becoming agitated, “คุณไม่สามารถป้อนนมลูกน้อยได้ ลูกน้อยที่เป็นความโชคร้ายเป็นอย่างมาก ไม่แตะหรือคุณจะมีโชคไม่ดี” “No. You cannot feed the baby. That baby is very bad luck! Don't touch it, or you will have bad luck!”

Cici would not back down. “Su ฉันจะไปลองใช้เพื่อป้อนนมให้ลูกน้อยที่ หากเธอกำลังจะตายก็ไม่ควรจะอยู่ในตู้เสื้อผ้า เธอควรจะจัดขึ้น เธอควรจะรัก” “Su, I am going to try to feed that baby! If she is going to die, she shouldn’t be in the closet. She should be held. She should be loved.”

Su could see that this stupid American woman was not going to listen to her. Cici would see. That baby will bring her bad luck. So Su told her, “คุณนายกรุ๊ปหากคุณต้องการให้นมเธอคุณสามารถป้อนนมของเธอ. คุณจะเห็นเธอโชคร้ายเป็นอย่างมาก ในตอนนี้คุณจะมีโชคไม่ดีเป็นอย่างมาก ” “Madam Cici, If you want to feed her, you can feed her. You will see, she is very bad luck. Now you will have very bad luck”

With that, Su washed her hands of the whole situation. She did not want Cici’s pending bad luck to come anywhere near her or the other babies in the nursery.

Cici laughed within herself and thought, Su, you would probably be shocked at how much“bad luck” I have already had.

Cici went back to the closet and picked up the tiny baby. She could see that her diaper was very soiled. Apparently all of the ladies in the nursery were too afraid of this unfortunate little girl to even care for her most basic needs. Cici would have cried if she wasn’t so angry. Over the years she had come to understand many of the superstitions of the Thai people. But she just couldn’t understand how anyone could allow a precious, innocent little child like this to just die alone in the back of a closet. She picked up this tiny bundle of humanity and started by giving her a bath and putting her in fresh clothes. As she tried to feed her she could see that it would be a challenge. Cici could see that there was some deformity inside of her mouth as well. This made it very difficult for her to get the suction she needed to get the bottle to work. Finally Cici found that if she made the hole in the bottle larger and squirted a little bit of milk in the baby’s mouth then she could swallow it. She spent several hours cuddling and feeding the baby. Finally she pulled the bassinet out of the storage closet and put the baby to bed. She went to bed that night wondering what would become of this “unlucky” little orphan.

The next morning before she went to work, Cici stopped by the nursery to check on her new little charge. At first she couldn’t find the bassinet. The nurses in the nursery were avoiding her. Then she thought to check in the storage closet. Sure enough, there was the little bassinet in the same spot where she had found it the day before. When she picked the baby up, it was clear that no one had attended to her needs throughout the night. Cici was frustrated and angry, but she had come to understand that superstitions could have a strong hold over people. It was a part of this society, part of humanity. What they would think if they knew about the beautiful, amazing man that I love more than my own life? she wondered. If Vincent had been born here, would there have been anyone like Father to love him and keep him alive? She could see that if this baby was going to survive here, she would have to be the one to keep her alive. She again took the bassinet out of the closet and bathed and fed the tiny, helpless child.

This week I have been reminded of how cruel otherwise kind and gentle people can be when they are influenced by fear and superstition. I discovered a newborn baby hidden in the supply closet of the nursery. She is a sweet, quiet little thing. Her face is badly disfigured by a birth defect. No one wants to touch her for fear her bad fortune will be visited upon them. They would rather leave her to die alone in the supply closet than to offer any love to a tiny helpless child.

I usually try to keep a certain distance from everyone. I try to keep myself from feeling too much. But my heart is drawn to this poor helpless child. I find myself feeling angry at a world that would turn its back on innocent children.

I find myself wondering what would have happened to you, Vincent, if someone had not reached out to save you? How many children are forgotten and abandoned in this world with no one to take pity on them? I suppose no one person can save them all. But I will do what I can for this one.

Cici repeated this routine every day, carefully caring for, feeding and cuddling the baby whenever she had a spare moment. Every morning she would again find the child and her bassinet stashed in the closet. She considered moving the baby into her own room, but she realized that this child had to learn to live with the rejection that would follow her throughout her life. Protecting her from it now could be harmful to her in the long run.

After about a month Cici decided to give the child a name in hopes that the other orphanage workers would stop calling her names like “Monster”, “Ugly”, and “Bad luck”. After considering for several days she began calling her “Candy”. When the other workers heard her referring to the child with this name, they asked her why she had given her such a name. Cici explained that it was because the child had such a sweet disposition. They showed respect for Cici by referring to the baby as Candy when she was present, but when Cici wasn’t there, they continued to treat the child badly and called her the names they had chosen for her.

As Candy grew she became accustomed to the way she was treated. Even the other orphans knew that Candy was worse off than them and they either excluded her from their play or were merciless in making fun of her deformity. Candy learned quickly how unkind the world could be. She also knew where she could go for love and comfort. Cici was her constant refuge in the storm that was her life.

When Cici had come to work at the orphanage she was careful to keep a physical and emotional distance from the children and the people there. But Cici was one of those people whose heart was made to give love and even in its broken and shattered state, she found that she couldn’t stop her heart from coming to love them all to a certain degree.

But Candy was different. She had such a gentle, quiet spirit that seemed to accept the fate that life had given her. After caring for and protecting Candy for a few years, one day Cici realized that this little girl had gathered up the broken pieces of her shattered heart and had stolen them for herself.

Jake had been drawn to Becka during his junior year in college. They had met while working as volunteers in a shelter for homeless youth. They had become part of the same loosely organized circle of friends. Slowly, as those friends had gone their separate ways, Jake and Becka had not. They made each other laugh. They liked the same art, and the same poetry, and the same music. If Becka ever asked Jake a question about his childhood, or his family, or his life that he wasn’t willing to answer, she never pushed. Jake had discovered that eventually his secrets pushed most people away. He had come to expect and accept that as part of the “deal” of who he was. But Becka was different. His secrets didn’t seem to bother her. She never left.

One quiet afternoon, after they had known each other for about three years, Jake and Becka were kicking back enjoying a lazy day when Jake asked, “Hey, Becks?”

Becka was surprised and looked a little hurt as she answered, “You want me to leave? Why?”

Jake jumped up and said, “NO! No, I don’t want you to leave. I was just wondering why you don’t, when everyone else does. Everyone else always wants me to share my “innermost self”. They don’t like that I have secrets. But you don’t seem to care. Why?”

Becka stared at him for a minute and then said, “Your secrets are yours, Jake. I seem like I don’t care, because I don’t care.” Thinking she had adequately answered his question, she went back to her book.

Jake wanted her to clarify, so he asked, “Do you mean you don’t care that I have secrets? Or do you mean you don’t care enough about me to care if I have secrets?”

Becka looked up from her book with her eyes, but she didn’t move her head, she asked, “Are you PMS-ing a little today, Jake? Because you’re talking like a girl.”

Suddenly her eyes got really big. She sat up straight and asked, “That’s not your secret is it? Tell me you aren’t really a girl!”

Becka put her hand on her chest dramatically and let out a huge sigh of relief. “Whew, that’s good. No offense, Jake, but you would not make a very attractive girl.”

Becka continued, “Don’t get me wrong. Those muscles, those hairy legs and those gorgeous eyes, (She used a sweeping motion with her hands to indicate his overall look), over all … you are kind of hot.” Then she smiled mischievously and said, “But that is not such a good look on a girl.”

Becka laughed again. She leaned over and kissed Jake on the cheek and whispered, “Yes, Jake, I definitely prefer you as a man. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Jake stopped smiling and said in a serious tone, “I want to share my secrets with you, Becka. I’ve never wanted to do that before. But I’m … scared … I’m … actually … terrified.”

Becka could hear in his voice how serious he was. She asked, “Because you think I’ll run away screaming like my hair is on fire?”

Jake looked at her steadily and said, “Something like that … Ask me something, Becka … anything … I promise I’ll answer.”

Becka was getting a little impatient. “Jake, I meant what I said before. Your secrets are yours. I care about you enough to respect your secrets. If you want to share them with me, that’s fine. But I won’t demand them from you.”

Jake understood and then said, “I appreciate that, Becka. I really do. But I don’t know where to start. I need you to ask me something, anything.”

Becka raised her eyebrows and finally acquiesced and said, “FINE … vanilla or chocolate?”

Becka made a hilarious face indicating that she was impressed that he had actually answered.

Becka sat up straight and stared at him and said, “You hesitated. Are you sure you aren’t a werewolf?”

Jake responded with a smile, “No, I am not a werewolf.” Then his smile faded and he asked, “But if I were, Becka… would that be too big? … of a secret? … for you?”

Becka could tell he was serious. She weighed her words carefully. “Jacob Chandler Vincent, you are the kindest, sweetest guy I have ever known. Sometimes it’s like you didn’t even grow up in the same world that I did. You are the very best friend I have ever had. I can’t imagine, in this moment, that you could possibly have a secret big enough for me to throw all that away.”

Jake seemed to change the subject. “I want to take you somewhere, Becks, to show you a place that’s very important to me. Do you have any plans next Saturday?”

Jake shook his head and said, “I can’t tell you. I have to show you. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep. I’m going pick you up at your apartment at 4 am, okay? And wear comfortable shoes. We will be doing a lot of walking.”

Becka was so off balance from the whole conversation that she could only answer, “Okay Jake, I’ll be ready.”

[1] “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens. This is the last paragraph of Chapter 9.

[2] Mary Elizabeth Frye (November 13, 1905 – September 15, 2004) was an American housewife and florist, best known as the author of the poem Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep, written in 1932.

[3] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1; “Though Lovers Be Lost” Part 1.

[4] Beauty and the Beast Season Episode 20 “To Reign In Hell”

[5] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[6] Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 14 “The Watcher”

[7] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly” There is a scene as Vincent is walking through the tunnels mourning her loss when he hears her calling to him. He turns to look, but she isn’t there.

[8] “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens. This is the last paragraph of Chapter 9.

[9] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 3 “Walk Slowly”

[10] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 6 “Beggars Comet”

[11] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 8 “Chimes at Midnight”

[12] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 8 “Chimes at Midnight”

[13] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 9 “Invictus”

[14] William Wordsworth “Surprised By Joy”

[15] Beauty and the Beast Season 3 Episode 1 “Though Lovers Be Lost”

[16] Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 1 “Chamber Music” In this episode Vincent and Catherine listened to Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony in their tunnel under the Park.

[17] Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 3 “Ashes, Ashes” This is a version of the song Catherine said her mother used to sing to her as a child.

[18] Beauty and the Beast Season 2 Episode 1 “ Chamber Music”