By Zena Uzep
Dear Readers,
This was one of those spur of the moment things that just happened. I got the idea while listening to one of my Christmas tapes.
All characters and events are the product of the author's imagination and in no way infringes upon the rights of Columbia, Henerson-Hirsh, Michael Douglas or ABC. Any resemblance to characters, events or places is strictly coincidental.
Copyright December 1988.
All rights reserved.
o o O o o
Paul and Scott walked briskly trying to keep warm and were failing. The strong wind coupled with zero degree temperatures made the event of frostbite a dangerous reality. Scott's head and face were protected at least by the hooded sweatshirt he wore under the thin unlined denim jacket. Paul on the other hand, could only pull up the collar of his well worn leather jacket as high as it would go. His ears began to sting in the cold.
Fox had found their apartment hideout, a small room in a boarding house. Scott had discovered Fox's presence in town, was able to warn his father and they had escaped, but it meant that they had lost everything; the camera, their few personal possessions, and more importantly, their extra clothes. As they pushed on, Scott noticed that his dad was developing a persistent cough.
o o O o o
Fox felt he had them this time. He had found the apartment while no one was home, but by early evening had determined that he'd been discovered and the alien and its offspring had fled. He swore to himself. Fox took Forrester's and Scott's belongings and put them in his car and started the search again. They couldn't have gotten too far. He thought he'd lost the trail until some diner owner recognized the photos he showed them and innocently told Fox which way they had gone. The owner said he remembered the man because he had come in and asked the price of a chicken sandwich and had left in despair when he told the owner he didn't have enough money for one. The owner had sympathized with him, but said he couldn't make any exceptions. If he did it for one, he explained, then everyone would come running. He had left then, heading north. Fox was on the right trail. That was two days ago.
o o O o o
Today, Paul and Scott were in a small town and it was getting late in the afternoon. The sun was low in the sky and would set in less than half an hour. Paul and Scott examined all the possibilities of a place to sleep tonight that didn't require money and their prospects didn't look very encouraging. Scott saw a church and they went up the stairs and entered. At least they would enjoy a few minutes of warmth.
They sat in the next to the last pew and listened to the prayers. Over the past days Paul's cough had been getting worse and now he began another fit of coughing. He tried to stop it, but couldn't. Scott was growing ever the more concerned for his father. Paul had told his son earlier that his throat had begun to hurt two days ago and that now he was beginning to feel hot, like when he'd had the other cold, but this was worse. Yet they were afraid to stay and rest anywhere because they feared that Fox might be close on their trail. He'd been just behind them at the apartment and they couldn't take the chance. They were both cold, exhausted and very hungry.
Vespers ended and the priest came to Paul and Scott and told them they would have to leave. Scott groaned at the prospect of his dad going out into the cold again. Paul asked the priest if they could spend the night in the church, but the priest said no, the church was not a shelter for the homeless. Paul and Scott got up and walked to the door. Scott held onto his dad's elbow and felt him shaking from an increasing fever. Paul reached for the doorknob and never completed the move. He collapsed on the floor.
Scott: Dad! Dad, please wake up! (with tears beginning to come) Dad, no! (to the priest) Father, please help him. Please!
Priest: Okay, help me get him to the back room. There's a cot in there and some blankets. He can rest there for a while.
Together the priest and Scott carried Paul to a small room. There were no windows and only one exit and it was dimly lit by a light bulb in the corner. A second door led to small bathroom facility. They laid Paul on a cot that stood in one corner and covered him up. Paul came to, to the faces of his son and the priest. Both Scott and the priest saw the beads of perspiration on Paul's face and his involuntary shivering.
Paul: (weakly) Thank you. I apologize for causing you all this trouble.
Scott: Yeah Father, thanks for helping my Dad.
Priest: Well, I guess I just couldn't turn a sick man out into the night, it being cold like it this, now could I? If you will excuse me, I have to go and prepare for tonight's midnight mass.
The priest left the room. Paul reached a hand to his son's and Scott held it tightly.
Paul: It'll be alright. We'll leave tomorrow. I'll be better by then.
They both knew the truth. Paul was getting weaker every moment and fits of coughing left him winded, his ribs aching.
Scott was concerned over his father's deteriorating condition over the past couple days, but he also knew that a blood transfusion wouldn't do the trick. Scott suspected that his father either had the flu, pneumonia or bronchitis, or any combination thereof. He got up and went to an open closet and took a handtowel from the shelf and wet it in the bathroom sink. He wrung out the excess water and placed the towel on his father's forehead. The priest returned.
Priest: How is he?
Scott: He's got a fever. Do you have any aspirin?
Priest: No, not here.
Paul: It's alright Father. I'll be alright. I just need to rest. (another fit of coughing)
Priest: (coming to stand beside Paul) You need a doctor. You should be in a hospital.
Scott: We don't have any money for a doctor or a hospital, Father.
Priest: If you need help, they'll help you, even if you have no money.
A bell jingled and the priest looked toward the door.
Priest: Someone has come in. I have to go see if they need me. If not, I'll be right back. (leaves the room)
Paul saw Scott tense up.
Paul: Don't worry Scott. I don't think Fox will think to look for us in here.
Scott nodded.
o o O o o
Fox had followed their trail into the city. It wasn't a very large city, not much bigger than an oversize town. There weren't many places the alien could hide without money for a room. He started the usual routine of showing their photographs and asking questions from the local businesses, hotels and store employees.
Fox had tried everywhere with no luck. They had just vanished. As he started out of this town toward the next, a last thought came into his mind as he passed a church with the lights on inside.
Fox: Nah. They wouldn't ... but then again they just might.
It wasn't unusual for a church to be open late tonight, after all it was Christmas Eve. Fox parked his car, went to the door and entered. He waited inside the door and within minutes, the priest appeared.
Fox: I'm sorry to bother you Father, but have you seen these two people? (shows him the photographs)
Priest: What do you want with them?
Fox: I've been trying to locate them for quite some time and I have reason to believe that they might be in town.
Priest: Why yes. They're inside right now.
Fox: (with a joyful look on his face) I've finally found them! Will you take me to them?
Priest: Follow me. They're in the back room. The man is very sick. I was going to let them spend the night here.
Fox: (with concern) He's sick? How bad?
Priest: Very bad. I think he may have pneumonia.
The priest led George to the tiny back room. As the priest opened the door, Fox drew his .45 automatic from its holster and entered. Paul spotted Fox as soon as he came through the door.
Fox: Hello Scott, don't you move. Forrester, get your hands out where I can see them. You're both under arrest! (takes out his identification and shows it to the priest) George Fox, Federal Security Agency.
Paul slowly moved his hands out into view from under the blankets. Scott froze in place and then turned toward the priest in anger.
Scott: Why Father? Why did you betray us?
Priest: I had no idea that he was a Federal agent or that you were wanted. You never told me.
Scott: He's the reason we couldn't go to the hospital. We were afraid he'd find us there.
Priest: (to Fox) Please, this is a house of God! How DARE you pull a weapon in here! I demand you put that thing away, NOW!
Fox: In a minute Father. I'm sorry, but there's something I have to take care of first, then I'll put the gun away.
Fox walked over and stood looking down at Paul. Paul looked his enemy in the eye. His fear was evident, but he was too weak to do anything.
Fox: (smiling with THAT smile) You won't get away from me this time, Forrester. You and Scott are coming with me. Get up!
Priest: He's too sick to get up. Can't you see that?
Fox backed away from Paul to a vantage point where he could watch both of his prisoners simultaneously, and turned his gun toward Scott.
Fox: Give me your sphere, Scott, now.
Scott took his sphere from his pocket and held it out in the palm of his shaking hand. Fox quickly grabbed it, fearing that Scott or Forrester would use it, and put it in his pocket. His attention once again returned to Paul.
Fox: (to priest) Father, would you please put these handcuffs on Mr. Forrester while I keep them covered, and then would you please search him for an item that looks like the ball bearing that Scott just gave to me. As soon as I have that, I'll put the gun away.
Reluctantly the priest went over to Paul and put the handcuffs on his wrists. Paul didn't resist. Paul told him where the sphere was and the priest retrieved it from his right front pants pocket and held it out to Fox.
Scott: No Father, don't let him have it!
Fox: Father, give it to me or you'll be under arrest too for aiding and abetting a fugitive and obstruction of a Federal officer in the line of duty.
The priest handed the shiny marble to Fox.
Fox: Thank you. Now Forrester, once again ... on your feet!
Priest: You can't be serious! Look at how sick he is! He should be in a hospital.
Fox: No, no hospital. He's coming with me!
Priest: He can't go anywhere. Let him rest.
Paul made a labored attempt to rise but was obviously unable to do so.
Priest: I don't understand. First they wouldn't go to the hospital because they were afraid you'd find them there, and now that you have found them, you won't take him. My God, what did they do? Please Mr. Fox, it's Christmas Eve. Show a little mercy to thine enemy.
Scott: (shouting with anger) Mercy! Fox doesn't know the meaning of the word! Do you know what he'll do to us? He'll put us in cages and they'll experiment on us and when they're done with their experiments they'll cut us up into pieces to see what makes us tick. He won't take Dad to the hospital because he's trying to keep the fact that we exist a secret.
Fox: That's enough, Scott.
Scott: (continuing in the same tone of voice) No, it's not enough! Do you know why he wants us, Father? I'll tell you!
Fox: Scott! I'm warning you! (once again points his gun at Scott threateningly)
Scott: Go ahead and shoot! It's what you want to do anyway. He wants us because my father is not from here. He's from out there, (points to the sky) from another world. Fox has been chasing us from town to town for two years, ever since Dad came back to help me. Do you know what it's like Father, to live in fear of your life? We had to leave the last town before Dad could get paid for his work. We're broke. A couple of days ago we found enough scraps to eat in a garbage container behind a Burger King. Just a while ago we tried a garbage bin behind a restaurant down the street, praying that no one would see us, but the garbage had already been collected. We haven't eaten in two days. Do you know it's like to go hungry because you don't have enough money for even a sandwich? Do you know what it's like to have nowhere to sleep or a place to get out of the cold? Fox found our last apartment three days ago. We lost everything we owned: our clothes, Dad's camera. (beginning to cry) I'm so tired of living in fear, sleeping in the cold, going hungry ... and now Dad's sick ... we don't have any medicine or money for any. I can't help him. ... I can't do it anymore and I'm afraid. (looks at Fox) Afraid of dying in his hands. Father, I don't WANT to die.
Scott broke down and cried. The priest gently held the boy in his arms and angrily looked at Fox.
Fox: On your feet, Forrester! We're leaving now! Scott, help your father.
Paul tried once again to rise, but the priest motioned to him to lie down.
Priest: No, Mr. Fox. You're not taking them anywhere, especially not tonight. I won't let you.
Fox: And just how do you intend to stop me, hmm?
Priest: I don't know, but I'll do everything I can to stop you. Is what Scott said true? Is he (looks at Paul) ... an extraterrestrial?
Fox glared at Scott and then at the priest, saying nothing. Then Paul
answered.
Paul: Yes, it's true.
The priest stared at Paul in disbelief then turned to look at Fox, seeking either confirmation or denial. Fox did not have to say anything. The look on his face told the priest it was true.
Priest: (turning to look at Scott) ... and him?
Paul: He's my son. His mother is from Wisconsin and we've been looking for her.
Priest: Is everything else true too? Paul: Yes. We've been running for our lives. We're also broke and hungry. I'm afraid now that Mr. Fox has found us, this will be the end of our lives. You will probably be the last person, outside of a laboratory, to see us alive. (turning his gaze to Scott) ... I'm so sorry, Scott. Please forgive me.
Fox: I'm not here to kill you, Forrester. My orders are to bring you in for questioning, that's all.
Scott: Hah!
Paul: (sadly) You know as well as I do what will happen Mr. Fox, everything Scott said. In the end we'll die in some secret government facility.
Priest: (seeing Fox is still holding the gun) Mr. Fox, I thought you promised to put the gun away. You have what you want. Put it away, please. I can not condone any violence in this church.
Fox holstered the gun and moved to a corner of the tiny room, sitting down in a chair where he could watch all three of them clearly.
Fox: Very well. They'll stay here tonight, but tomorrow morning they're leaving with me.
Priest: Thank you.
The priest turned to leave.
Fox: Where are you going?
Priest: To fix some chicken soup for them. You heard the boy. They haven't eaten in two days, and he (looks at Paul) needs all the nourishment he can get if he's to get well, or perhaps you prefer to let them continue to starve.
Fox: Alright, go. Scott, sit down!
The priest left and Scott obeyed Fox's order and sat down in one of the two chairs in the room.
Almost fifteen minutes later the priest returned carrying a tray with two bowls of soup and some in a coffee cup, (he figured Paul wouldn't have much of an appetite) some hot cocoa and two cups of tea. The priest offered a bowl of soup to Fox, but he declined. The priest sat on the edge of the cot beside Paul and spoon fed him. He was too weak to feed himself, handcuffed or not. Scott ate the soup like it was going out of style and then ate Fox’s bowl too. The priest told him to slow down or he'd make himself sick. The priest was right about Paul's appetite. Paul could only manage one third of the soup and half of the tea.
As the priest started to collect the dishes, Paul reached out and took hold of his arm. The priest looked at him questioningly.
Paul: (softly in almost a whisper) Please Father, may I ask a favor of you?
Priest: Yes, certainly.
Paul: I feel that I may not live through this night. This body is failing, (pointing to his chest) here. If I should die, would you please do whatever you can to help my son? I want him to live.
The priest took Paul's hands in his and looked into his eyes. A slight squeeze and an imperceptible nod of confirmation passed between them. The priest stood up, collected the dishes on the tray and started for the door. At the door he turned and looked at Paul for a long moment. He then turned to Fox.
Priest: Tonight is Christmas Eve and people will be arriving for the Midnight Mass. I won't be back for a while.
Fox: Uh uh. Cancel the Mass. I don't want anyone else in here.
Priest: I'm sorry, but this is the holiest night of the year. Cancel Mass I will not do.
Fox: Very well, but I don't want anyone back here. Is that understood? And no tricks.
Priest: (sourly) Understood Mr. Fox. (disgust in his voice) May God have mercy on your soul.
The priest left and closed the door. Paul started another fit of coughing. The coughing was getting harsher and raspier and it was coming more often. Scott stood up, took his chair, and moved it his father's side. He tried to help him, but there was nothing he could do. Fox watched in silence. After two more fits of coughing, Fox spoke up.
Fox: How long has he been sick?
Scott did not look up or answer him.
Paul: Since the day you found our apartment. (more coughing)
Scott: (bitterly) Why do you care? You just want him dead anyway ... and me too. Maybe you'll get your wish tonight. If Dad dies, you can take him to your bloody lab and cut him up. At least he won't feel any pain.
Scott picked up the towel and again went to the sink, wet it, and returned to his father's side, replacing it on Paul's forehead. They sat in silence again. Fox kept a keen eye on Scott as he, at intervals, went to the sink to wet the towel. Between trips Scott sat down and gently held on to one of his father's hands.
o o O o o
In a little while they could hear activity start in the church, followed soon by the start of the Christmas Mass. It was eleven thirty. Fox tried to ignore the whole thing as he watched Paul who was obviously listening to the sermon and the singing. The Mass continued for two more hours and Fox could not help but listen as he continued watching Paul and Scott.
Priest: (to congregation) Before we dismiss for this joyous holiday, there is a favor I wish to ask of all of you. Earlier this evening I met a very special man and his son, a man who at this moment is very ill. Please join me in a prayer that he may get well and that they both may find comfort and strength in God and through our Lord, Jesus Christ, in this, their most desperate hour of need. Let us pray. Lord, hear our prayer ...
... thank you and God bless you all. Merry Christmas. The congregation all stood and filed out, each thanking the Father for the lovely service. When the last person had gone, the priest locked the doors, turned off the lights and headed for the back room.
o o O o o
In between violent fits of coughing, Paul had managed to catch short cat nap periods of sleep. Except for the frequent trips to wet the towel, Scott stayed beside him the whole time. At the moment, Paul was in one of those brief periods of sleep.
As Fox began to listen to the prayers and carols, he began to think upon Scott's harsh accusations. They were all true. Fox was tired, but he knew also that he had to perform his duty, and that was bringing the alien in, but ... He thought back to everywhere the alien had led him and all the people who had innocently helped this ... this alien thing. What was it about it that made people risk their future by breaking the law to help it? He thought about the night he'd actually captured the alien. He remembered his words to it, how he told it he thought it was a menace, an evil, a danger to be eradicated from the face of the earth, it and its alien seed. He had asked how many more there were out there that would have to be excised to save the planet, and he remembered the thing's response. "After all these years, is that all you want to ask me?"
He thought back over his encounters with the alien in the past. It had never hurt anyone. He looked at it now, sick and possibly dying, or at best facing a life of imprisonment in a monitored, windowless room not much larger than this one, and then, he didn't know what it was, but he began to pity the thing. He began to feel its plight, its sickness and desperation, its fear for itself and its offspring. "What's happening to me? Is it controlling my mind? Is this what happened to the others? ... But how? ... It's asleep." He said nothing, but just kept watching the alien, trying to feel further suggestions coming from it, but only the priest's words came back to him, loud and clear. "It's Christmas Eve. Show some mercy to thine enemy."
George's stomach began to develop a knot. "It certainly is no threat now. By tomorrow it might be dead." But he had his duty. His reverie of thinking was broken as the priest entered the room.
Priest: (to Scott) How is he?
Scott: (quietly) Right now he's sleeping.
Priest: That's good. Is he any better?
Scott: (looks at the floor) No. His coughing is worse and I think his fever is rising again.
Priest: Well, if it makes you feel any better, Scott, we prayed for you both tonight.
Scott: We heard you Father, and thanks, but I don't think that it's going to help.
Priest: It certainly won't hurt. Put your faith in God, Scott. God can work miracles.
Scott: (sadly, tears appearing in his eyes) If you say so.
Scott got up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Fox stood up from his chair and went over and sat down in Scott's chair, beside the alien. The priest watched.
Scott came back into the room and when he saw Fox sitting beside his father, screamed bloody murder.
Scott: No! Get away from him! Don't you touch him!
Hearing Scott's screams, Fox stood up and Scott ran at him, blindly throwing useless punches, finally throwing his arms around Fox in an attempt to drag him away from his father.
The priest grabbed Scott and tried to pull him away from Fox.
Priest: No Scott. Stop it. He's not hurting him.
Scott: Just get him away from my father!
As the priest continued to try to pull Scott away from Fox, Scott's hand came to rest on the automatic in its holster. Scott's hand came free from Fox with the gun in it. He spun free of the priest's hold and grabbing the gun with both hands, pointed it at Fox. He was shaking all over.
A look of fear came over Fox's face as he looked at the weapon in the hands of the desperate boy.
Priest: Scott, no.
Scott: (loudly) Get away from my Dad!
Paul woke up at all the shouting and saw Scott with the gun in his hand and with a great and sudden effort, managed to raise himself up on one elbow.
Paul: Scott ... no! NO!!
The effort started him coughing harshly once again and he fell heavily back down onto the cot. Finally his coughing began to subside.
Paul: Scott, (cough) that's not (cough) our way. Give the gun (cough) back to him.
Scott: But Dad! ...
Paul: Give the gun back, Scott! (cough)
Scott hesitated a moment looking from his father, to Fox, and back again to his father's fixed look, and then he slowly handed the gun back to Fox. He then went over and sat down next to his father again.
Fox put the automatic back into the holster. He looked over at Paul and Paul returned his look, gazing directly into fox's eyes and holding the gaze for a long while. The knot in his stomach, there it was again. Fox finally turned away to look at Scott.
Fox: (trying to appear calm, but still visibly shaken) It's obvious that you don't know anything about guns. You have to take the safety off to use it you know.
Scott said nothing and looked at his father. Fox returned to his chair across the room and everyone remained silent for several minutes.
o o O o o
Fox didn't know what it was, but something was happening to him. Was it the Mass, the spirit of Christmas in general, the priest's words, Scott's harsh words, or Forrester's; or was it just from watching the suffering alien, or the look in its eyes as it stared at him after correcting its son, and in so doing, giving up what would have probably been its last chance to escape? There still was no anger or hate in those eyes ... those eyes ... what was it about them?
Suddenly the knot left Fox's stomach as quickly as it had appeared. He walked over and looked down at Paul, then reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his keys and unlocked the handcuffs from Paul's wrists. Paul just closed his eyes and lay there still, shivering once again as his fever continued to rise. Fox took the blankets and pulled then higher over Paul and tucked in the sides. He stood up and asked the priest a question while Scott sat there dumbstruck and open mouthed at what he had just seen.
Fox: Do you have a telephone I can use Father?
Priest: Yes ... why? What are you going to do?
Fox: Call an ambulance and get him into a hospital.
Priest: Thank the Lord! Come with me.
Fox and the priest left Paul and Scott alone in the room.
Scott: Dad, did you see that? Why is Fox doing this? He hates you.
Paul: Maybe he doesn't hate me so much anymore. I really don't know, Scott. I don't know. ... Scott?
Scott: Yeah Dad?
Paul: Merry Christmas son.
Scott: (hugging his father) Merry Christmas, Dad. I love you.
Paul: I love you too.
o o O o o
The priest and Fox came back in and fifteen minutes later an ambulance arrived and Paul was loaded aboard. The hospital was about five miles away in a larger town and Scott rode in the ambulance with his dad. Fox followed the ambulance. Fox got Paul checked into the hospital and it was determined that Paul had bronchial pneumonia and that one of his lungs had collapsed. Treatment was started immediately. Fox left Scott with his father in the emergency room and then asked one of the personnel if she could suggest a place where he might get a room for the night.
o o O o o
In the morning, as the red dawn was just breaking, Fox came into Paul's room carrying two duffle bags and the camera bag, awakening Scott who was napping in a chair. Scott jumped to his feet and stood next to his father. Fox laid the bags on the floor next to Paul's bed and sat down on the other bed. Paul looked at him, a puzzled look on his face.
Paul: Why? Why are you doing this for us?
Fox: (laughs a little) I really don't know. Sitting there watching you last night and thinking about it, it just didn't seem right on Christmas. Of course, listening to the Mass; being where we were, watching you as you lay there helpless, thinking about Scott's bitter words and the priest's, might have had something to do with it. The thing with the gun. It got me to thinking; here it is, Christmas Day, and what am I doing? Other people are at home or with friends exchanging gifts, having dinner together and having a good time. Even Wylie took time off to go home. And what about me? Where am I? I'm in some forgotten little place, making life miserable for someone else; working all alone, while everyone else is enjoying themselves. (quieter) Life is lonely when no one remembers you on Christmas, not even one friend. I've done some real thinking, and maybe you and Scott aren't the threat I painted you to be in my mind.
Scott: (with a trace of bitterness) He wouldn't hurt anyone, not even you!
Paul: My son is right. (coughing again) And I'll be your friend if you'll let me.
Fox: You, my friend! That's ridiculous!
Paul: Why is it ridiculous? ... Why are you letting us go then? ... You are letting us go ... aren't you?
Fox: Yes, I guess that's what I'm doing alright.
Paul: Then what's so ridiculous about it? You said you're supposed to bring me in to answer your questions. Ask them. I'll answer what I can.
Scott: Dad! Are you serious?!
Paul: (coughs) Yes.
Fox: Are you well enough?
Paul: I think so. I'll manage somehow.
o o O o o
Fox started with his questions and they talked well into the afternoon, breaking only when interrupted by the hospital staff for medication and therapy, and when Paul fell asleep twice on George during the conversation.
Fox: Why didn't I just talk to you like this before? A lot of things could have been straightened out and even more avoided.
Paul: I don't think you believed that I had feelings George, that I could love, or experience human emotions. The truth is, the longer I stay here, the more human I'm becoming. Not really, because I am what I am and I can't change that, but in my understanding of what it is to feel as a human. Perhaps in your dedication to your job you forgot about feelings and what it means to have them. Your duty blinded you to everything; your family, friends and the truth.
Fox: Maybe. Strange that I should learn about feelings, about being human from you, you of all people.
Paul: Maybe I'm more human than you know, or were willing to admit.
Fox: Maybe you are.
There is silence in the room for a long while as each regarded the
other in a new light.
Paul: What will you do now?
Fox: Close your file and turn in my resignation. You might call it a Christmas gift.
Paul: (smiling) It's the best gift I could have gotten, thank you. But I have nothing to give you.
Fox: I think I already have your gift.
Paul: What's that?
Fox: Your friendship.
Paul nodded.
Fox: Will you be all right?
Paul: Thanks to you, I think so. With a doctor to care for me and with the help of your medicines to heal this body, I think I have a good chance to get well. I do feel a little better already.
Fox: Mm. That's probably the medication.
Fox stood up to leave and Paul grabbed his arm.
Paul: George?
Fox: Yes?
Paul: Merry Christmas.
Fox: Merry Christmas, Forrester, and you too Scott.
Scott: (grumbles) Merry Christmas.
Fox: Well, I've got a resignation to write out. A good night's rest and a day with nothing to do wouldn't hurt either. You take care of yourselves and I hope you find Jenny. I promise the FSA will not be hunting for you again.
Paul: Thank you, (cough) George.
Fox: I'm sorry for all the misery I've put you through, really. Please accept my apology.
Paul: We do, but it really isn't necessary.
Fox: Can I see you again sometime?
Paul: I don't see why not. How about this evening? I've heard the hospital serves Christmas dinner to patients and their families.
Fox: I don't want to impose.
Paul: You wouldn't be imposing. If you want to join us, you know where we'll be.
Fox: I'll think about, really, and how about later?
Paul: If we don't have to keep on the move, I suspect we shouldn't be too hard to find.
Fox: Great. (he reaches into his pocket) Oh yes, I think these belong to you.
Fox holds one of the spheres out and Paul accepts it. He then holds the other one out to Scott. Scott hesitates. His dad looks at him with HIS critical look and Scott slowly reaches out to accept his sphere from Fox.
Scott: (curtly) Thanks.
Paul: Thank you, George, and good-bye.
Fox: Good-bye Paul, Scott.
o o O o o
Fox walked out the door of Paul's room and out of the hospital. He felt like a crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Letting Paul Forrester and Scott Hayden go was the best thing he'd done in a long time, in fact, ever since the FSA had assigned him the alien project. He was happy to find out that Forrester was not the menace he had imagined him to be. They were free now to pursue their own lives and he was free too. He walked to his car humming Christmas carols. He drove to his hotel for some rest and to write that resignation, and to enjoy some good food for a change, ... or maybe ... hospital food, "with friends" would be ... good.
The snow began to gently fall.
o o O o o
George did show up in time for supper at the hospital. Paul was happy he had accepted the invitation. They all enjoyed a hearty turkey dinner with all the trimmings, though Paul barely touched his meal. He did manage at least a bite or two of everything on the tray. George and Scott finished theirs completely, but Scott was still hungry. Paul looked at his son sadly.
Paul: I'm sorry, Scott. If you want, you can eat the rest of mine.
Fox: No, don't Scott. (to Paul) You could've contaminated the food with germs from the fork you used. If so, then Scott could get what you have. You don't want that. No offense, Paul.
Paul: None taken. He's right, Scott ... I'm sorry, but we don't have enough money for this, let alone seconds.
George reached into his pants pocket for his wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill. He put the wallet away and offered the money to Scott.
Fox: Here, take it. Go to the cafeteria and eat all you want.
Scott looked at his father. Paul nodded once. Scott stood up, grabbed the money, said 'thanks' and was out the door before George could say 'you're welcome'.
Fox: (with a smile) That's one hungry boy you've got there.
Paul: Yes. (pause) What Scott said was true, George. Aside from the soup the Father served us, the last time we ate was two days before ... and it was garbage from a Burger King.
Paul felt a lump in his throat. His face contorted to sadness and he closed his eyes and turned away from George, but not before George saw a tear roll down his cheek.
Paul: (with a very soft voice, just above a whisper) I can't even afford to feed my own son.
The last thing George wanted to see, was this being who had totally won his respect, begin to cry. There had already been enough grief to last a lifetime. He thought a second to himself, then, "What the hell". George reached in again for his wallet and pulled out one hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills. He put the wallet away, folded the money between his fingers and carefully reached for Paul's left hand (which had an IV in it) and stuffed the wad of bills in it. Paul turned his head and looked at the money in his hand.
Paul: What...
Fox: Take it.
Paul: I didn't mean for you to ... I can't accept ...
Fox: Go ahead and take it. Just like no one should be lonely, no one should be forced to starve either. It'll leave me a little strapped for cash, but this is for something far more worthy.
Paul took the cash and counted it.
Paul: But that's a hundred dollars! (cough)
Fox: I know. Use some of it to feed Scott while you're in here and use the rest to feed the both of you until you can find a job and a place to stay. I just hope it'll be enough. It's all the cash I've got.
Paul: (pauses then smiles) Thank you.
Fox: My pleasure. You're welcome.
Fox stood up to leave.
Fox: And now I think I'll get going before Scott comes back and finds out I DO have a heart and thinks I'm Santa Claus.
He put his coat on and stood by the door.
Paul: (straight faced without a hint of a smile) Ho ho ho.
Fox: (laughing) Where'd you learn that?
Paul: Scott.
Fox: ... Good-bye Paul.
Paul: (smiling) Good-bye George.
George turned and was out of sight. Paul continued to stare at the doorway and then at the snow falling outside the window. About twenty minutes later, Scott walked back in.
Paul: You full now?
Scott: Yeah. Where's Fox?
Paul: He left.
Scott: Uh huh. Can't say I'm not glad he did. He still makes me nervous.
Paul: He gave me this. (holds out the money)
Scott: (taking it and counting it) It's a hundred dollars! Why'd he give you this?!
Paul: Well, we were talking and I guess I made him feel sad when he overheard me say I couldn't afford to feed you. That's when he gave me the money. He said to use some to feed you while I'm in here, and the rest is to help feed the both of us until I can get a job.
Scott: (quietly with guilt) And I threatened him with the gun.
Paul: Yes, and that was wrong. What did you think you were going to do? I never want you to touch a gun again. Guns are for killing and hurting life. That isn't our way, Scott.
Scott: I don't know what I was going to do. I was so scared, Dad. I was so scared of what he was gonna do to us.
Paul: I know. (pause) When humans let their fears, anger, hatred and anxiety control them, they do not tend to think clearly. They behave and act irrationally.
Scott: (quietly) I'm sorry.
Paul: (smiling now) Just don't let it happen again. Always think first.
Scott: (also smiles as he looks at his father) I will. I promise.
Scott stood up, gave the money back to his father and looked out the window at the falling snow.
Scott: Gee Dad, I'm sure glad we weren't sleeping out last night.
Paul: I'm glad too, but I can think of places I'd rather be than a hospital.
Shortly afterwards the priest who had cared for them walked into the room. He had been visiting patients in the hospital.
Paul & Scott: Hello Father.
Priest: Hello Mr. Forrester, Scott. How 're you doing?
Paul: Better thanks.
Priest: You look a little better, but you look tired too.
Scott: He is Father. It's been a long day.
Priest: Would you care to tell me about it?
Scott proceeded to tell the priest about Paul's diagnosis and about George Fox's visit, their conversation and supper.
Scott: ... and then he gave Dad a hundred bucks to feed us!
Priest: See Scott. God does work in mysterious ways. Miracles do happen.
Scott: Yeah. I guess I shouldn't have doubted you.
Priest: It's alright. I understood. (pause, then to Paul) He really gave you a hundred dollars?
Paul: (smiling) Yes.
Priest: Hmm. Amazing. I didn't think he had it in him.
Scott: Neither did I!
Priest: Well, it looks like you have most of your problems solved for now.
Paul: (with a sudden thought) Scott? Where will you stay tonight? I don't think they'll allow you stay in here with me another night.
Scott: (with sudden alarm) Gosh, I didn't think about it. I was gonna ask a nurse or someone, if I could stay here with you. I guess I could stay in the lobby.
Priest: Well, I think I can solve that problem. You can stay at the Rectory with me, until your dad's released. Okay?
Scott looked at his father again.
Paul: If it wouldn't be imposing.
Priest: Nonsense.
Paul nodded.
Scott: Okay.
Priest: Good, that's settled. Besides, it gives me an excuse to come see you. ... in fact, you can both stay with me until you're back on your feet. There's a lot I'd like to talk to you about, when you're able. Would you mind?
Paul: No. I'd be glad to.
Priest: Wonderful! (sees Paul is getting quite tired) C'mon Scott. Let's go and let your father rest. He needs it.
Scott: Okay. (hugs his dad) Bye Dad. See 'ya tomorrow.
Paul: (kisses Scott on his cheek) Bye Scott. I'll be waiting for you. Goodnight Father.
Priest: It's Father John Schrade. Good-night Mr. Forrester, until tomorrow.
Paul: ... and it's Paul. Until tomorrow then.
Scott grabbed the duffle bags and the camera case and he and the priest walked out and left Paul to rest and sleep.
It had been a Merry Christmas after all.
Written by Zena Uzep.