The Christmas House Page 19

  “Did you feel that explosion earlier? Man, a house was totally leveled on the West Side of town. I heard 5 or 6 people were killed,” said one man.

  “Yeah, I heard that according to the news, there was a gas leak in the basement. Seems the guy that hooked up the furnace didn’t know what he was doing. The whole place went up. When will people learn to hire professionals to install stuff like that,” replied the other man.

  Michael stared at the men and then poured himself another shot. As he raised the shot glass to his lips he said to himself under his breath, “Here’s to me, killer of family and friends.”

  Chapter Seventeen- Michael’s Struggle

  Early December

  Evanston, Illinois

  A few weeks passed since the demise of Michael’s friends and family. The funerals were held a few days after the explosion and were attended by many friends of Arianna and Michael’s. The majority was work-related associates who paid their respects to Michael as they passed five closed caskets in the Lake Forest Funeral Home.

  Michael had not been back to work since the accident and was not planning on returning anytime soon, despite numerous calls from his boss urging him to come back as soon as possible. Michael was not ready to face life again, much less the everyday challenges of his job. He wasn’t concerned about the money he was losing from not working. The one thing Michael did have, was a considerable sum of money. The trust fund he put away for the kids’ education was now fully available. As well, the house was insured for the appraised amount of $2.3 million and the life insurance policies on Arianna and the kids amounted to over $500,000.00. Michael decided he could afford to take a leave of absence from work, a very long leave of absence.

  He moved into a small, one-bedroom furnished apartment in nearby Evanston. For the last several weeks he spent most of his day crying and the other part of it drinking. He seldom left the apartment and had lost a considerable amount of weight.

  He counted the days until Christmas Eve. He would travel back to the burned out site that was once his home and wait for Arianna and the kids to arrive. He prayed that God would allow him one more day with his loved ones.

  Michael contemplated suicide almost constantly since the explosion, but remembered what Uncle Wally had said about how suicides were treated in heaven. He did not want to jeopardize his eternal soul by taking his earthly life at this time. He didn’t even know if he would be allowed into heaven. After the way he cursed God for what happened to him, he had his doubts.

  Day after day, Michael wasted away in the small East Side apartment, drinking, crying and sleeping. Garbage filled the small rooms, for Michael had no incentive to clean up after himself. Empty half-eaten containers of carry out food were turning green with mold as they lay on the floor near a couch Michael called his bed. He spent every waking and sleeping hour on this couch waiting for the time to pass. Empty bottles of whiskey were scattered about the apartment. Michael only left this poor excuse of an existence to take a short walk to the nearby liquor store or to pick up the occasional Chinese dinner.

  As the days past, Christmas Eve was fast approaching. Michael was convinced that even though the house was gone, Arianna and the kids would still visit him at 6:00 p.m. that evening. He lost all of his faith in God and was concerned that his punishment was far from over. He constantly asked the question, “Why?”

  December 24th

  Christmas Eve

  148 Festive Lane

  5:57 p.m.

  Michael pulled his truck over to the curb in front of the now empty lot, where the old magical house once stood. This Christmas was not like that of the snowy holidays of recent years. It was a cold and rainy night that reflected Michael’s dismal mood perfectly. Michael stepped out onto the pavement carrying a half-drunken bottle of whiskey. He stumbled and fell several times as he tried to walk through the burnt out rubble that he once called home.

  The black soot, wet from the rain covered Michael’s shoes and clothes with the thick layer of a tar like substance. As he continued to stagger to the foundation, which was still in tact, he came upon the edge of the concrete slab that used to hold his family together and took a seat.

  There was no grandfather clock to clearly chime six times. Like everything else that was in the home, it too had perished in the fire. Michael looked at his soot covered watch. As he wiped away the filth from the crystal, he could see that it was 5:58 p.m.

  As Michael waited for Arianna to arrive, he took several drinks from the whiskey bottle and emptied it. He looked at the bottle in disgust and threw it into what once was the basement of the house. It shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Michael sat alone in the cold, wet night and waited for his family to come to his rescue. The cold wind sent chills through his body that would have surely been much worse if he was not so intoxicated. He looked at his watch again. It was now 6:15 p.m.

  “They aren’t coming. They all hate me for killing them. I didn’t mean it! It was an accident! Please come home. Please! Arianna!” he shouted.

  As he sat soaking wet, drenched with rain, water dripped off of his head and onto his face. The taste of the water as it cascaded into his mouth, was clean and fresh, a pleasant change from the salty taste of tears that had found their way to his lips over the last thirty days.

  Suddenly, Michael heard a noise from behind him. He turned and looked into the darkness and shouted, “Arianna? Is that you?”

  A response came back to him.

  “She’s dead Carter. They’re all dead. Hell, you probably killed them with that stupid furnace you installed. It was all over the news. What a loser you are Carter. You and your neighbor Stevens. Both just a couple of losers!”

  “Who’s there? Who is that?” asked Michael.

  The figure walked into the light shining from a nearby lamppost.

  “It’s me, Tony Cesario. How you doing Carter? You don’t look so good buddy. You been drinking?”

  “Yeah. What’s it to you? What are you doing here?” Michael asked.

  “I came by to make you a little offer Carter. Seems your dream house went bye-bye. So, now that you saved me the trouble of knocking it down myself, I wanna buy the property,” Tony replied.

  Michael looked up at Tony and asked, “Buy the property? But why?”

  “Cause its worth a lot more to me than it is to you buddy. (Tony pulled an envelope out of his jacket)

  “Here’s a contract and a check for $2.4 million dollars. I suggest you take it and get your life back in order. I know you don’t need the money Carter; I checked with the insurance company. I know they already paid you off. Take this check and double your financial worth cause it’s the only worth you have right now pal. Look at you. You look like a bum! Dirty and smelly! What a drunken loser!”

  Michael was about to take the envelope from Tony because in his own mind he agreed with Tony’s assessment of the situation. He was a loser. He had nothing left. It was now obvious to him that no one was coming back to the house. He might as well let Tony have the property. Just before he reached for the envelope from Tony’s hand, he asked one last question.

  “And what if I don’t accept your generous offer? Then what Mr. Cesario?” Michael asked.

  Tony became outraged.

  “You stupid jerk. Look at you sitting here in the rain, drunk and covered in ash. You look like a washed up bum. Take the damn money and get the hell out of here!”

  “But what if I don’t want to?” shouted back Michael.

  Tony reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a gun.

  “Well then Carter, I will just take this property the way I should have taken it years ago. No skin off my nose. If I kill you I’ll buy the property from the state of Illinois cause you ain’t got no one to leave it to. Killing you is probably going to save me a couple hundred grand.”

  Michael looked at the gun pointed at him.

  “Go ahead. You’d be doing me a favor. I can’t kill myself or I will lose my family forever.
But if you kill me, then I will be with them again.”

  “Carter, you are one crazy nut. See your family? They’re all dead. You are one sick disillusioned loser. Nice doing business with you loser,” Tony said as he cocked the gun and aimed it at Michael’s head.

  From behind Tony a voice calmly said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you Mr. Cesario.”

  Tony turned and saw a figure standing in the shadows.

  “Who’s there? Come out here and show your face!” he yelled, as he waved the gun.

  An old woman wearing a black imitation fur coat stepped into the light.

  “I think you better put the gun down Mr. Cesario,” Martha said.

  “Where the hell did you come from lady?” asked Tony.

  “I assure you I have not come from hell Mr. Cesario. Now put the gun down,” she replied.

  “Sorry lady. You’re timing isn’t too good. See, now after I kill this loser, I’m going to have to kill you as well. Ya know, dead men tell no tales,” he replied.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that Mr. Cesario. Please put the gun down or you might get hurt,” Martha said.

  “Oh yeah. And I suppose you are going to take away my gun and beat me up right?” he said as he laughed.

  “Oh no, I am much too old to be fighting with someone half my age. But my friend over there might think differently,” Martha said as she pointed behind Tony’s right side.

  As Tony turned slowly to his right, he found himself face to chest with Jack Stevens.

  “Hello Tony!” Jack said as he grabbed him by the throat and raised him off his feet into the air.

  “Stevens! What the hell!” Tony screamed as the gun fell from his hand and onto the ground.

  Jack held Tony in front of him, high into the air with one arm and punched him in the face so hard with his other fist that Tony flew through the air and landed several feet away, knocked totally unconscious.

  “One punch! I am very impressed Jack,” Martha said.

  “Thank you Martha. Kinda hoped he would have lasted a little longer. I always wanted to the beat the crap out of that guy,” Jack replied.

  During this time, Michael remained sitting on the foundation staring off into space. He hadn’t moved an inch and was unfazed by the sequence of events that just transpired. Jack and Martha walked over to Michael and sat next to him.

  “Hey Mikey. How you doing buddy?” asked Jack.

  “I’ve been better Jack. Surprised you aren’t beating the hell out of me too. I’m the one that killed you. Now I just feel twice as guilty. Here I kill you and you come back and save my life. Thanks a lot,” Michael replied.

  “Michael, you didn’t kill anyone. It was an accident,” Jack said.

  “Sure it was, but I was the one that caused it. So I am responsible for killing all of you,” replied Michael.

  “That’s not true Michael. Jack is right. It was an accident. Do you remember leaving a note for Arianna about the furnace? Well Wanda unknowingly blew that note off the thermostat when she opened the front door earlier that day. She turned the furnace on not knowing it was broken. Then David wished the house gone and flipped the wrong switch by the garage door that turned on the light and set off the explosion in the basement. Jack was in the basement when he knew better and should have gotten everyone out of the house immediately. Is it their fault that the house exploded Michael?” Martha asked.

  “No. I guess not,” he replied.

  “Then it isn’t your fault either. Could have, should have, would have, doesn’t fix the problem. It was not any one’s fault Michael. It just happened,” she said.

  “But what about God? Didn’t he see what was happening? Why didn’t he stop it?” asked Michael.

  “God works in mysterious ways Michael. Isn’t that what you have always been told? Well it’s true. There is a reason for everything and everything has it’s reason,” she replied.

  Michael started to weep. Jack pulled him to his shoulder and hugged him tightly.

  “No one came, No one showed up this year Martha. Why didn’t Arianna and the kids come home for Christmas?” asked Michael.

  “Michael, there was no house to come home to. Remember that we are human beings when we visit you at this time each year. We need shelter and warmth just like any other human being. There needs to be a house standing here for us to visit. Not a hole in the ground. We have unfortunately all visited a hole in the ground and let me tell you, it isn’t pleasant.” she said.

  “Also, the last rule I didn’t mention that very first Christmas was in reference to the time constraints that is put upon immediate family that passes away. It’s too hard to deal with seeing the ones closest to you so soon after they have passed on.

  One full year must pass before deceased immediate family members are allowed to visit the house again. When my father and mother died I wanted to see them so very much the first Christmas after their deaths, but I was required to wait until the following Christmas. It’s a grieving period Michael. It’s required.”

  “So what do I have to do to see you all again?” asked Michael.

  “You must do two things. First of all you have to regain your faith in love, life and God. Then you must rebuild the house on the existing foundation. The foundation is still in tact and should hold a new house without any problem. The foundation is the heart of the house Michael. It allowed Jack and I to come back this evening for this short visit. You need to build a house on the existing foundation Michael. If you can do these two things, then your family will be here with you next Christmas for sure. I promise,” Martha said.

  “She’s telling you the truth Michael, but there’s more,” Jack said.

  “What do you mean, more?” Michael asked.

  “You have to give up the booze and get your life back together Mike. You can’t build this house if you are always drunk and feeling sorry for yourself. The accident wasn’t your fault. Get over it. It’s time to move on and get going on building a new house. You only have a year,” Jack said.

  Michael smiled for the first time in 30 days.

  “I will give it my best shot.”

  “We’re counting on you Michael. Get down to business okay?” Jack said.

  “Okay Jack. I promise I will be ready by next year,” Michael replied.

  Jack and Martha stood up and helped Michael to his feet. They walked him back over to his truck and Jack asked Michael if he was sober enough to drive. Michael nodded his head and truly was sober.

  “We have to go now Michael, but we will see you next year. Don’t give up on yourself. Keep working at it. A new house without faith is just a new house. Both are required to make your dreams come true. We all love you Michael,” Martha said.

  Michael hugged Martha.

  “I will miss you both. See you next year. Oh, and Jack?”

  “Yes Michael?” Jack asked.

  “Thanks for saving my life,” Michael replied.

  Jack just smiled and watched as Michael got into his truck. As he drove away the rubber tires created a familiar rumbling sound against the cobblestone pavement.

  Jack and Martha walked off into the darkness.

  “Those were some surprise conditions you threw in there Jack. Stopping drinking was not part of the deal. Only rebuilding the house and restoring his faith.”

  “I know, but hey, he needs be sober to do it. I figured I would go for it,” Jack replied as they continued to walk.

  As their outlines vanished into the darkness, a faint conversation could be heard and then a clear response from Jack, “But I didn’t hit him that hard!”

  As the rain turned to a light snow the Christmas lights glowed from neighboring homes in the area. Carolers could be heard singing, “O Come All Ye Faithful” in the distance. Still lying in the rubble, Tony Cesario slowly awakened and moaned with pain. He picked himself up off the water soaked ground, retrieved his gun and slowly walked to his car. As he wiped the blood from his split lip and soot from his clothes, a light flash
ed into his eyes. A voice shouted, “Drop the gun and put your hands over your head. NOW!”

  Tony dropped the handgun and raised his hands. The police officer that shouted the demands approached Tony and handcuffed his hands behind his back.

  “We had reports of a man with a gun in this area. You are under arrest for displaying a handgun in public. Do you have a permit for that gun?”

  “No, I don’t,” Tony answered softly.

  As the officer pushed Tony into the back of the squad car, he then shut the door. The squad car drove out of sight as the blue flashing lights faded into the darkness of the night. A star shined brightly to the north, a calm finally settled onto this Christmas Eve.

  Chapter Eighteen- The First Step

  April of the Following Year

  Lake Forest, IL

  Over the last four months, Michael struggled with many challenges. His faith in life, love and God was still uncertain. He tried to focus his energies toward the rebuilding of the house, hoping his faith would come along in time. With every wooden two by four that was nailed and every brick that was laid, Michael rebuilt the house and his faith simultaneously. He stopped drinking and started to eat again on a more regular schedule. Although he was acting as the general contractor for the construction of the house, he decided to work side by side with the other workmen, swinging a hammer and ripping floorboards.

  The process for the reconstruction of the house had been lengthy. The clean up alone, took two months. The foundation of the home, although still intact after the explosion, was in need of major repairs. The foundation planners argued with Michael constantly about knocking down the old foundation and starting fresh. They just couldn’t imagine why Michael would want to limit the construction of a brand new home to the old footprint of the existing foundation. There was more than enough land to expand the layout of the house to be four time the size of the original. Michael insisted that the old foundation be utilized.