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

archaeologist whose son would eventually move to America and settle in this part of the country. His name was Harold Alwin, and he was doing a dig in the peat bogs of Ireland – how perfect! I promptly took my leave and entered the part of Ireland where he would be working, but about a hundred and fifty years earlier. Being careful to wrap it well so the wood remained uncompromised, I buried the Harp in the bog, but not too far down. And then – and this is the fun part of what I do – I went back through the Door from that time, found the portal that would place me in the same area one hundred and fifty years later, and got to the bog right around the time Dr. Alwin and his team were setting up camp not twenty-five feet from where the Harp lay buried.

“I introduced myself as a local expert and asked if I might join the dig. He naturally wanted to see papers, some proof of my credentials, so I provided them. The Servant Helper of that time had been notified of my plans, you see, and was waiting for me, papers in hand, when I arrived through the portal.

“I waited a day or so to see if anyone might discover the Harp, and to my delight, a young woman found it. This was her first dig, and I thought she’d explode with pride and excitement. I almost felt guilty; after all, to me, the Harp had been planted a scant three days earlier. As the local expert, I was asked by Dr. Alwin to evaluate the age and worth of the instrument, so I told him truthfully that it was easily a thousand years old, was worth a small fortune, and to please, please care for it well. I said that if he planned to keep and not sell it, then by all means have it put away in the most secure place he could find. He took my request to heart, and when it left Britain several decades later, it was still in perfect condition, its original cloth kept with it.

“His grandson, Percy Alwin, brought it to America and kept it safe as a family heirloom. Eventually, the last of the Alwins passed away – about two weeks ago, I believe. They announced an estate sale to be held this Tuesday last, because the final Alwin had managed to fritter away most of the family fortune – something Celesta had told me would happen – forcing their lawyer to sell everything to pay for funeral expenses, back taxes, that sort of thing.

“I attended the sale on the first day and noticed a set of new, unused golf clubs. Knowing this estate sale would happen much earlier than that, courtesy of Celesta and her, er, Connection, if you will, I had made the acquaintance of several of Mr. Kelly’s associates some years ago and discovered their various interests. One of them, Joel Feinberg, happened to be an avid weekend golfer. I made a flyer on my computer, putting the golf clubs as the first item listed, printed it out the day after the sale was announced…

“You looked surprised, Mr. Kelly. About what? That I have a computer and know how to use it?” He laughed. “One learns a great deal when one has unfettered access to every moment in history. So. I left this under the windshield-wiper of his car – I knew him well enough, you see, to have gone golfing with him on a few occasions.

“The car was parked in his driveway at the time, which is how he knew of the sale early enough in the day to run over to the Alwin house during lunch. I was there already, of course, and acted suitably surprised to see him. Once I got his mind off the clubs – which he pounced on immediately – I showed him the Harp. For a terrible moment I thought he was going to purchase it for himself, you know, as a collector’s item, but I reminded him that Donal had a musically-inclined daughter who would make better use of the thing, not to mention the appropriate ethnic background, and recommended he mention the sale when he got back to the office. He finally agreed, albeit reluctantly, but I did go on a bit about what a shame it would be for an instrument like that to stay locked in a case rather than be used for its intended purpose.

“And that, Mr. Kelly, is how you ended up at the estate sale and purchased the Harp. I had asked the lawyer to keep it aside for you, and put a down payment on it so he wouldn’t be tempted to sell it to anyone else. I gave him a good description of you, so that when you got there he could put it out where you’d see it – no, no. You’ll not be paying me back, sir. What use have I for your money? I’ve plenty of my own, thank you.

“So now, to other matters. Knowing where Celeste lived, I had to be sure Cian would be living somewhere nearby and be in a situation where I could introduce them. The original idea was for me to be back in the boy’s life much sooner than today, only things don’t always happen the way one plans them. You see, to put everything in motion, I had come to Connecticut about ten years ago and purchased a large house not too far from the High School. Then I presented myself to the State-run foster care agency as a benefactor, got myself elected to their local board of trustees, and eventually convinced them that they needed to establish a group home in the area. To that end, I offered my house, and when they accepted, made it an outright gift to be sure they’d use it.

“So now I had a place for Cian to stay that was near Celeste, but I wanted to have what you call a ‘back-up plan.’ I left that time period, and returned five years later. By then the mall had a management company that was involved with charity work, so I went to the owners and proposed a work program that would give employment opportunities to the youngsters in foster care who were near the age of emancipation. I donated a hefty amount to fund the project, it was set up that year, and they’ve been working with foster home parents and guardians in this area ever since.

“After that, I was called upon to help some people who’d been displaced by some evil influences; they were destined to live long enough to make a considerable impact on history in another part of the world, so believing all to be well with Cian, I not only brought these others through the Halls to a safer moment in time, but stayed with them to teach them to recognize danger. Unfortunately, I stayed longer than I needed to, and thereby brought harm where none should ever have been allowed. I cannot tell you how ashamed I feel about this, how sorrowful and heart-broken.

“I let you down, Cian. Had I been where I was supposed to be, had I been more diligent in carrying out my purpose, you never would have been taken from your first foster parents, and they would still be alive. Celesta told me that nothing I did was unforgivable, but... but I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself.

“When I finally went back to Atlanta to see how things were with you, it was too late. The Boltons had been dead for almost six years, you were gone, and no one seemed to know anything about it. So I returned to the Hub and told Celesta what had happened. I’m sure she already knew some of it, but because of certain laws that neither mortal nor spirit-being may bend, she had not been allowed to interfere in any way, nor was I allowed to go back and try to fix things – too much had happened, too many variables involved, and the disruption of past events in your case would have impacted the present and future in horrible ways. But I do believe, after hearing some of what you told us, that Celesta must have been the one giving you the dreams, especially the ones that were of some comfort to you. I also think she may have, in some way, kept the evil from influencing those people to do worse things to you than they did.

“But at the time I knew none of this, and so she presented another plan, one that would enable me to find you. I was to return to Atlanta and fill the position left vacant by the man who, like me, had allowed the loss of children who were supposed to have been safely within the system. He had been fired, and while every bit as unworthy as he, I managed to get myself appointed to his job. With a great deal of hard work, and the help of some good people, the other missing children were found, but I must tell you, I was furious – with myself and at the forces of evil that had done those dreadful things to harm you. And believe me, lad, they had every intention of killing you, but because Moloch had been made to search you out for so long, it was furious and wanted to see you suffer for a long time before you died. I’m sure the creature enjoyed every moment of your pain, too... I am so, so sorry, Cian.

“Well, once you were found, there was the job of helping you heal. Some of what I heard about your condition made me despair of that ever happening, but Celesta had been right – of course. You have an incredible inner strength and a good heart, and that, I believe, is what really saved you in the end. When you were well enough, I suggested that it might be good for your psychological health to leave Georgia altogether, and start over somewhere totally different. And since foster-care is a nationwide effort, I had no problem getting you transferred to Connecticut and into my former house. One of the first things the social worker running the foster home did was set up a job interview for you at the mall.

“In case you’re wondering how my being a harp teacher became known, Donal, I told your other associate, Mitch Lundgren, that I moonlighted as a music instructor and taught guitar and harp. He told you, as I knew he would, having been told by Joel about your purchase, and since he of course had my business card, well, you know the rest.

“And, as I said before, here we are.”

 

*******

 

Throughout the Keeper’s explanation of how he’d failed to protect him, Cian’s mind had been racing. All he’d suffered at the hands of his former foster-family, the loneliness, sorrow, pain, confusion. Eventually, the self-loathing. All had been preventable? Something about that bothered him. Something less obvious than the Croghan’s failure.

More thoughts cascaded downward, flowing into reason. Had the Boltons not died, how much happier his own life would have been… but at what price? They would have given him anything he wanted, showered him with affection and the best life had to offer. Possessions, education, social position. And if everything he was being told about his looks were true, he would have become well known, admired, and sought after by those who would enhance his life at every turn.

In this lay the cost. By this time he had read enough in books, in those Hollywood magazines, to know how twisted a person’s mind could become if given too much too quickly. To realize that under such perfect conditions, he would have grown up a monster. A selfish, egotistical, heartless, hedonistic little bastard who would use others as much as