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Disclaimer: Alas, the Pretender and its characters are not mine. This flight of fancy is for entertainment purposes only. Did I mention that I don’t make any money from this? Well, I don’t!
Out Of The Box
by Lizz
He held the flat metal box in both hands now. Only twelve inches square, yet it held a lifetime of memories--two lifetimes, really. Hesitant to lift the lid, he stood motionless and wondered if the contents would unleash the pain that would finally cause his burdened heart to burst. “Ah, Pandora, will we ever learn from you?” he sighed. And then he gently opened it.
Inside was the archive of their lives together. Two photographs lay atop the other contents. He recognized each of themselves in their younger days. Not happier, he thought, just younger. Beneath those lay a handful of newspaper clippings. They were tales of his exploits: a fire fighter in Pittsburgh, an FBI agent in Atlanta, a doctor in New York, a trader on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange, and more. Underneath those were two origami figures. He had taught Kenny how to fold the paper crane. And here was Onysius, the god of retribution. He remembered the night of the escape. He remembered the near-captures in the years that followed. Tucked into a corner was a Pez dispenser with the face of a black cat. He smiled slightly. It had arrived at the Centre one Halloween, a gift to Parker accompanied by a rather scandalous set of black lingerie that, he assumed, Parker had kept. At the bottom of the box was a thick 78rpm record that bore the title, “Les Mots D’amour,” and on top of it a folded card written in the familiar hand. “Everyone deserves to have a family. Why don’t you leave me alone and let me find mine,” it read. Why indeed.
Lifting the edge of the recording, he saw yet another memento, one that broke his heart. He opened the card and ran his fingers over words that were written by a child so long ago, “Happy Father’s Day.” The harsh words spoken that day revisited him along with the sight of the card falling like a dry autumn leaf into the wastebasket and bitter tears came to his eyes. Lovingly, he touched the drawing of the man and boy walking hand in hand and the tears spilled onto his cheeks.
That was all. Two lifetimes in a small, flat box. He lowered the lid and then hesitated. Reaching into his coat pocket his fingers closed around his cell phone. This was the lifeline that neither one of them had had a desire to sever. This line had carried his hopes and dreams, his fears and longings for--could it be?-- nearly twenty years! It had carried life itself between two men who had been both friend and the only semblance of family either one had known for most of their lives. He placed it in the box and quietly closed the lid.
With great care and reverence he placed the treasure under the soft, white coverlet at his friend’s feet and returned to gaze into that beloved face one last time. Placing his hand over those of his friend, he leaned in to place a loving kiss on his forehead and to whisper in his ear, “I will never forget you or what you have meant to me. I love you. Peace and Godspeed.”
He took a step back and looked into the face of peace. “Peace at last,” he said not realizing that he was speaking aloud. “But what a dreadful price you paid for it. God, if You’re real and if You love him, welcome him into Your family, please.” The tears flowed unchecked now as he turned from the casket. On the way out, he signed his name in the visitor’s book and stepped outside into the starless night.
Fin
This is my maiden flight as a fanfic writer. How’d I do? Feedback is welcome!
Out Of The Box
by Lizz
He held the flat metal box in both hands now. Only twelve inches square, yet it held a lifetime of memories--two lifetimes, really. Hesitant to lift the lid, he stood motionless and wondered if the contents would unleash the pain that would finally cause his burdened heart to burst. “Ah, Pandora, will we ever learn from you?” he sighed. And then he gently opened it.
Inside was the archive of their lives together. Two photographs lay atop the other contents. He recognized each of themselves in their younger days. Not happier, he thought, just younger. Beneath those lay a handful of newspaper clippings. They were tales of his exploits: a fire fighter in Pittsburgh, an FBI agent in Atlanta, a doctor in New York, a trader on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange, and more. Underneath those were two origami figures. He had taught Kenny how to fold the paper crane. And here was Onysius, the god of retribution. He remembered the night of the escape. He remembered the near-captures in the years that followed. Tucked into a corner was a Pez dispenser with the face of a black cat. He smiled slightly. It had arrived at the Centre one Halloween, a gift to Parker accompanied by a rather scandalous set of black lingerie that, he assumed, Parker had kept. At the bottom of the box was a thick 78rpm record that bore the title, “Les Mots D’amour,” and on top of it a folded card written in the familiar hand. “Everyone deserves to have a family. Why don’t you leave me alone and let me find mine,” it read. Why indeed.
Lifting the edge of the recording, he saw yet another memento, one that broke his heart. He opened the card and ran his fingers over words that were written by a child so long ago, “Happy Father’s Day.” The harsh words spoken that day revisited him along with the sight of the card falling like a dry autumn leaf into the wastebasket and bitter tears came to his eyes. Lovingly, he touched the drawing of the man and boy walking hand in hand and the tears spilled onto his cheeks.
That was all. Two lifetimes in a small, flat box. He lowered the lid and then hesitated. Reaching into his coat pocket his fingers closed around his cell phone. This was the lifeline that neither one of them had had a desire to sever. This line had carried his hopes and dreams, his fears and longings for--could it be?-- nearly twenty years! It had carried life itself between two men who had been both friend and the only semblance of family either one had known for most of their lives. He placed it in the box and quietly closed the lid.
With great care and reverence he placed the treasure under the soft, white coverlet at his friend’s feet and returned to gaze into that beloved face one last time. Placing his hand over those of his friend, he leaned in to place a loving kiss on his forehead and to whisper in his ear, “I will never forget you or what you have meant to me. I love you. Peace and Godspeed.”
He took a step back and looked into the face of peace. “Peace at last,” he said not realizing that he was speaking aloud. “But what a dreadful price you paid for it. God, if You’re real and if You love him, welcome him into Your family, please.” The tears flowed unchecked now as he turned from the casket. On the way out, he signed his name in the visitor’s book and stepped outside into the starless night.
Fin
This is my maiden flight as a fanfic writer. How’d I do? Feedback is welcome!
