Page 33 of Garr

Trak stared off toward the glassed-in atrium and immediately spotted the little girl in question. Her hair was gone, but the dark eyes and familiar features sliced through his heart.

“Of all the animals that you were bringing, she’s most interested in meeting the alligator. Such a strange thing,” said Shaneal.

“Not so strange,” smirked Trak. “I will make sure she and Alvin are best friends before we leave.”

Matthew entered the atrium with a roaring ‘Ho-Ho-Ho,’ much to the children’s delight. He gently spoke to each one, holding them as if they might break. In some cases, they could very well have broken in his large palms.

When the children asked to meet the animals, the men wrapped them warmly, carrying them carefully outside toward each of the animals. The bison, the elephants, the giraffe, the lion, and, of course, the alligator were all gentle and calm, as if knowing the children needed them today.

“Hello, little one,” said Trak, kneeling beside the little girl. “Santa said your name is Neakita. I am Joseph Redhawk.”

“Like the bird,” she said in barely a whisper.

“Exactly like the bird,” he nodded. His chest tightened as he saw his grandfather standing behind the little girl, frowning.

“You see him, too, don’t you?” she said.

“See who?” he asked.

“The old man. He’s very nice to me, but the others don’t see him. He tells the most wonderful stories about the spirit world and how beautiful it will be for me. I’m not afraid any longer.” Trak swallowed as emotion threatened to overtake him. Nodding, he bent down and carefully lifted the child, wrapping her in several blankets.

“Shall I take you to meet my very special friend?” She nodded as they stepped outside into the brisk, cold breeze. Trak took the girl to a bench, took a seat, and held her close to ensure she was warm.

“Who is your special friend?” she asked. Suddenly, the little girl felt something nudge her and looked down. “An alligator!”

“Yes,” laughed Trak. “He won’t hurt you. He’s my very good friend. Alvin, this is Neakita. Neakita, this is Alvin.”

“He’s beautiful,” she smiled. “He’s amazing. His kind has been around forever, like mine.”

“Yes, that’s right,” smirked Trak.

“Can I pet him?”

“Of course you can,” he nodded. Alvin sat very still as the little girl touched the scales on his back, then his snout. He licked the little girl’s hand, and she giggled, gasping for air.

“Is there any other animal you wish to meet?” he asked. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No. That was perfect,” she whispered. “Thank you, Trak.”

“I-I never told you my nickname.”

“Silly man. Every angel knows who you are,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “You are the most special warrior ever. Even Nathan thinks so.”

Matthew gripped his shoulder, and Trak looked up at him pleadingly.

“Matthew…”

“There is nothing I can do, son. If I could, I would. She will be well taken care of where she is going. She is at peace now. You gave her the only thing she wished for.”

Trak ran his long, strong fingers over the child’s bald head, kissing her forehead. Alvin nudged the child’s hand, then closed his own eyes. Standing, he carried the little girl back inside, and the nurses took her away.

“This is the part of my job I hate the most,” said Matthew. “But it must be done, and she will be better for it. I’m so very proud of you.” He gripped Trak’s face, his rough, weathered hands squeezing the cheeks slightly. Trak bent his head, making it easier for Matthew to kiss his forehead, as he knew he would.

“Matthew? Thank you. You and Irene, for loving me.”

“Easiest job in the whole world, son.” He watched as Matthew disappeared inside the hospital, then he felt another hand, then another, and another at his back. Turning, he stared at the faces of Gaspar, Miller, and Nine.

“You alright, brother?” asked Miller. He nodded, not saying anything.

---