For a Bit of 2020 Christmas Fun Reading

Prayers are Sometimes Answered…
On Christmas Eve, Jack Jackson decorated the Christmas tree. Just why would he do that and with such diligence? His wife and son were gone. Just why would he put these glistening balls with sparkles on them all over the tree? Trina would have called it a perfect tree. He knew in his heart he was trying to please Trina. Why the hell would he bother? She’s the one who left without notice and with his son, JJ.
He asked himself, “How could she? Why don’t I hate her for it? All our friends thought I’d been abusive. I would never be abusive. Her ex-husband Al was abusive. Did she run because she thought Al knew where we lived? Why wouldn’t she have told me? I would have moved again to some other place. Is it because JJ isn’t my biological son? Hell, I’m the only father he ever knew. Al was in jail when he was born. I have no legal right to JJ, but I’m sick worrying about them.
“It’s three months now since I found the note. In September, she chose to break my heart. I put JJ to bed each night. What is he thinking? Does he believe I’ve left him? I waited two days before I called the police and was treated like a criminal. I called the FBI. I don’t know Trina’s family. She never told me about them. She said, “Jack, you’ll never understand. You have to trust me. If I go to them, Al will find me again. Sometimes you just have to close a door, never to return.
And that is exactly what she has done with me. We were doing fine. My business is booming. There have been news articles on its positive impact. We bought a beautiful home and have a lake house. Trina never wanted anything showy so we’ve lived well within our means. For what? After the first month, the police inexplicably never bothered me again. I call them repeatedly and they do not treat me like a pest. I know they know something. My neighbor Brad, who is a retired state troopers said, “Missing persons are always on file for further investigation. Two missing like this warrants a monthly call, at least. I’m telling you, Jack, they have leads away from you. That’s why they’re not calling you.””
Jack was drawn from his reverie by the ringing of his cell. A call from Detective Murphy, saying, “Can you meet me at the station at 3:00pm; I’ve some good information for you.”
“I’ll come Detective, but tell me what you know. Do you have a lead on Trina and JJ? Please, don’t make me wait.”
“Jack, I can’t talk over the phone.” And he clicked off.
Jack Jackson was at the station at 2:55 pm. He’d have come earlier, but knew he’d have to wait outside until he was called. This was COVID-19 time and institutions were careful in allowing a minimum number of folks in their doors. The police were no different. He sat in a designated available seat with his mask on in what was an unheated waiting area outside the main station. Several couples sat out there also with the women crying and the men looking stern. No one recognized him; maybe because he was masked, but without it someone would have. His face was all over television when he gave a tearful message to Trina and JJ to come home.
A smiling Detective Murphy opened the station door, but did not invite him further. Instead he said, “If you return home right how, there is a present for you. We put it in your home as a surprise. There is also a note in an envelope. You have decision to make. If you decide to do nothing, then your life is as before. If you decided to move forward, follow the directions.”
Jack was then pushed out the outside door of the police station, confused and angry; but he harbored a faint hope, thinking, the police don’t give gifts. Could it be?
Ten minutes later, Jack opened his front door to a vision of JJ holding a glass ornament. JJ said, “I’ve been wishing for you, Dad. I’ve never stopped wishing for you.”
Jack hugged the boy, all the time ashamed of the tears running down his face. JJ gave him an envelope. “Read it, Dad, it’s from Mom.”
“Darling, forgive me for not sharing with you, but I could not put you at risk. Al was involved with a drug operation. You knew he was in jail. What you didn’t know is I’ve had a cd that would put the drug operation out of business under RICCO statutes; but they knew I had it. It took the government a while to find us. I was approached and told if they could find us, the mob would. They needed my testimony about the cd. I could not leave JJ with you. I went into witness protection. They said they’d give my disappearance enough notoriety that no one would think you knew anything, which you didn’t. Enclosed are tickets for a new life in a suburban part of Western Massachusetts under new names with money for a new business. They will sell your current business and home or use it for another witness. We can keep our lake house. Please come. I love you and will never lie to you again. Bring JJ. You’re all he talks about. I love you, Jack Jackson. Trina”
And there was a merry Christmas for all in Springfield, Massachusetts, despite masks on, six feet apart, and constant washing of hands.
K. B. Pellegrino, Author