Overcomer - The Journey, Judy Colella [book reader for pc txt] 📗

after she’d said it, and now it was too late.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am, but we can’t let him check out of school on his own.”

“Why ever not? I’m giving him my permission, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry, but I have no way to be sure you’re his mother.”

Letitia scrunched her eyes shut, trying to think of a way around this obstacle – and found the answer. “How’s about this – call the hospital here, ask for the main desk, then have them page me. I’ll show them my I.D. so they can confirm it for you, and you’ll know it’s really me, okay?”

“What hospital are you at, ma’am?”

Letitia told her, suggested she get the number from the hospital website, and hung up, hurrying back inside to the main lobby.

Five minutes later, the receptionist, speaking over the intercom, requested Mrs. Letitia Pettijohn to come to the front desk.

“I’m right here!” Pulling her State I.D. from her purse, Letitia scurried to the desk.

The receptionist looked at the card and spoke into the phone. “Yes ma’am, she showed me her photo I.D… Certainly – here she is.” She handed the phone over the desk.

“Mrs. Pettijohn here.”

“This is the front office at your son’s school. We spoke a few minutes ago. I’ve had your son taken out of class pending this call, and he’s up here right now. I’ll have him sign out right away. How is he getting home?”

“On his bike – same way he gets there and back every day.”

“Good. We’re all set then. Thank you, and I hope your nephew is feeling better soon.”

“Thank you.” She handed the phone back, thanking the receptionist as well. “My son is coming to pick me up, but he needed to get permission to leave school, you see.”

“I do. And you’re welcome.”

Outside again, Letitia didn’t stop at the curb where others were still standing, but kept going until she was off hospital grounds and out on the sidewalk. She turned left out of view of the hospital altogether. Buddy wouldn’t be picking her up, but no one else needed to know that – they only had to think it happened.

She realized by now that she’d have to find a different way of punishing her foster-son; this had been a close call and might not be over yet. That jackass of a doctor could still cause her some trouble. What if he insisted on pursuing things, like contacting the DFC or the school to check the boy’s behavior records or something? Now that was a horrifying thought! Well, she’d have to find a way to take care of Dr. Lee before he could do any such thing.

As for that foster-son of hers, well, she’d figure a way to make him wish all he was getting was another beating. And god knew he was going to get punished big time once she got him home. How dare he tell the doctor things that were causing so much trouble for her! She’d fix him good for sure.

      Real good.

ELEVEN

 

Connecticut – Present Day

 

Uncomfortable in the silence, Cian stood by the kitchen table, hands folded in front of him, waiting for Celeste’s parents to return to full cognition.

The Croghan was back in his life but the first name, Gerald, was new to Cian. Each time he’d appeared during their travels to and from…Yes. A new memory: The Hub of Time. That beautiful being had been there, too. An angel. At the Hub, Cian had been schooled in new languages because… why? Because… ah, of course. At the Hub, Time stood still, giving him as long as he’d needed to learn.

Traveling through the ages, always forward, he and his parents had been guided by the bearded man, Niall. But then the Croghan would show up to see how things were, or to tell Niall to return with them to the Hub. During these brief encounters with the enigmatic harper, Cian had seen him interact with others in that unnatural way he just had with the Kelly family. To make them stop talking, to get them to become cooperative. Like now.

A brief glance at Mr. and Mrs. Kelly standing by the sink showed them dazed still, eyes nearly blank. Perhaps the Croghan had sensed, as Cian had, that Celeste’s parents were about to toss them out of their home. He looked away, knowing the effect would soon wear off, and didn’t want them to see him watching them.

The Croghan wasn’t entirely human, he suddenly remembered. At one time, yes, but according to the creature… angel… Celesta, that had been in a long-ago millennium. The flash of a new memory now – Celesta gazing down into Cian’s eyes, explaining things about the Croghan, about his past, about his purpose.

Blinking, Cian’s awareness returned to his surroundings. What had Croghan spoken into the thoughts of Mr. and Mrs. Kelly? How would they react when they returned to full awareness? Celeste’s sister, too, had lost all expression, followed her parents into the kitchen, and gone out the back door, taking her cell phone from her pocket before shrugging into a coat that had been hanging on a hook by the adjacent wall. Would she remember why?

Cian could hear the murmur of voices in the family room, infiltrated now and again by a series of golden notes. More sounds of conversation, a long, lovely melody that floated sweet and gentle through the open door. Its simple beauty swept away his tension for the few moments it lasted.

Then silence returned, and with it, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly shifted, stared at each other, and looked at Cian.

“What… what are you standing there for, boy?” Mr. Kelly waved a hand at the table. “Sit down, for heaven’s sake.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Why do I feel like I missed something?” Mrs. Kelly left the sink and sat on the other side of the table.

Before Cian could think of a response, the Croghan entered the kitchen, followed by Celeste, and addressed Cian. “You’ve said nothing?”

“Nothing.” And what would have been the point? You had them all but frozen!

“Good. Please – Mr. Kelly?” He gestured toward the table for him to sit. “You won’t want to be standing up for this.”

Mr. Kelly paused in the process of pulling out the chair at the far end, his brows almost meeting. “What do you mean?”

“Only that it’ll take a while to explain certain… things to you.”

Cian noticed that Celeste’s complexion was more grey than rosy as she took a seat next to her mother and directly across from him.

The Croghan lowered himself into the chair facing Mr. Kelly. He smiled. “Your daughter, sir, is amazing.”

“We already knew that. Surely there’s more you’re wanting to say.” Mr. Kelly’s thickened accent startled Cian.

Where did that come from? He sounds more Irish than I do!

“Cian?” Mr. Croghan nodded at him. “Would you like to explain things to them?”

“I – I’m not sure where to start.”

“Try the beginning.” Mrs. Kelly’s smile was not pleasant.

“Yes, ma’am.” He swallowed hard. “I, um, I was born in Ireland – in Tír Conaill, which was later renamed Donegal. My father was a druinenech…sorry, weaver.” He swallowed hard and glanced down for a moment. Speaking of his home, his parents, was causing a bizarre reconnect with his native tongue. Why? Deep breath. Keep going. “Also a farmer by trade, and when necessary, a warrior." Raising his eyes, he shrugged, controlling the inner shock at this onslaught of memories.

“Hold on!” Donal slapped the table with one hand. “What kind of nonsense is this?”

“Nonsense?” The Croghan’s eyebrows rose nearly an inch. “Hardly nonsense, Mr. Kelly. Difficult to believe, yes. Nonsense – not at all. I assure you, sir, that what you are about to hear is true from start to finish. Few humans are allowed to know what I’m here to tell you. You’d be wise to consider the possibility that there exist things that go far beyond the realm of human knowledge.”

A long pause. Mr. Kelly took a deep breath and sat back. “Ah, I see it now.” His thunderous look was gone, replaced by a crooked smile, and he chuckled. “How much did Mitch pay you to come here, eh?”

“Donal? What are you talking about? What does Mitch have to do with this?” Mrs. Kelly turned to Celeste. “He’s talking about Mitch Lundgren – I don’t know if you remember him from our Christmas party last year, the same one where you met Joel.”

“Mitch is the one who told me about this clown.” Mr. Kelly jabbed a thumb in Croghan’s direction, smirking. “So how long ago did you two set this up, and how much is he paying you?”

“Never and nothing, sir. He does come into this, but much later in the story.”

“For the love of… what story?” Eyebrows inching closer again, Mr. Kelly crossed his arms and sat back. “And I still don’t know why we’re even having this discussion!”

Cian, meanwhile, was lost. Mitch? What was Mr. Kelly even talking about? He spoke as if this was some kind of joke or trick.

Croghan pushed back his chair and got to his feet. Leaning forward, hands flat on the table, he narrowed his eyes. “Things there are, Donal Kelly, that of necessity take place out of view and comprehension of the average denizen of planet Earth. Those of us responsible for keeping Time in balance rarely interact with the creations of the Great Magistrate, but once in a while, necessity removes the option of choice. Be silent now and listen. Your daughter is part of something far greater than you can imagine, and it has to do with this young man, who himself doesn’t know the extent of his destiny.” He straightened, fixing Donal with his gaze for a few seconds more, and then sat.

No one moved for several seconds, but then Mr. Kelly’s eyes, having gone distant like earlier, refocused. He fidgeted, cleared his throat, shrugged, and finally spoke. “Fine, then. What’s this… this thing my Celeste is… what you said.”

Cian controlled a sudden urge to grin – the Croghan had used his mind-speech again to calm Celeste’s father’s worries.

Croghan sat once more. “Good decision.” He turned to Mrs. Kelly. “Are you also willing to listen?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice, Eileen Kelly.”

“Then wh- wait! How do you know my first name? I haven’t told you, and no one has called me by it!”

“Celesta told me.”

“You mean Celeste.”

“No, dear lady. I mean Celesta. She’s, well, more about her later.”

“I’m thirsty.” Celeste’s words were a whisper.

Cian saw her color was returning, but she still didn’t look well.

Eileen got up and went to the refrigerator. She returned a moment later with a frosty pitcher of something amber with ice cubes and leaves floating in it. After dropping a placemat on the table, she put the pitcher on it, and went to one of the cabinets. Removing five glasses, she put them on a tray and brought them over, placing one in front of each person. Cian murmured a thank-you, wondering what the leaves were.

“Thanks, Mom.” Celeste poured some for herself and took a long sip.

“Hope you all like minted ice tea.” Mrs. Kelly’s tone was curt. “Help yourselves.”

Mint leaves!

Mr. Kelly poured himself a glass, as did The Croghan, then Mrs. Kelly, and finally Cian. The situation was reminding