NO GREATER A GIFT

by V. C. Peters

Winterfest Eve – 1992

There was an added spring in the step of the community as they went about preparing this and that. Candles throughout the tunnels had all been replaced, and those still in use had been given a good wick trimming to ensure they glowed at their brightest for all the guests that would be coming down this time tomorrow. The Great Hall was in order, and decorations of orange, yellow, and white adorned the otherwise colorless walls of the tunnels.

Mixed in with all the hustle and bustle of the community came a sound that nobody ever thought they would hear coming from Vincent’s chamber: the sound of children at play.

It was nearly bedtime for them, and that meant it was quality daddy time with his children. Vincent had never neglected the needs of Jacob, age two, and Cathy, age three, but the time before bed was his time to truly dote on his children. He loved them as much as he loved their mother, and together they filled his spirit with a wholeness he never imagined he would ever know.

Catherine watched on from the opening to their children’s bed chamber, smiling in a way only a mother could. She always delighted in seeing Vincent this way; not as a stoic protector or a leader in times of need, but as a father: playful, loving, and gentle. He sat cross-legged on the area rug adorning the main chamber floor with Jacob and Cathy on his lap. The pair looked on in awe and wonder as he acted out tonight’s bedtime story with their stuffed animals cast in the roles of the characters in the tale he was weaving.

When the story concluded, they both hugged him and found themselves wrapped up in the warmth of his arms, his head resting collectively on theirs. “Now,” he said in a soft yet still imposing voice, “I believe it’s time for your appointment with the sandman. It’s Winterfest tomorrow, so you both need to get a good night’s sleep to be ready for it. Are you as excited for it as I am?”

They both nodded.

“I thought so.”

Catherine walked over to join them. “The sandman just tapped down on the pipes; he says he has some extra special Winterfest Eve dreams ready for you two.”

Jacob and Cathy cheered their approval. She took them by their hands and escorted them to their chamber. Tucked in warm and safe in their beds, stuffed animals at the ready, Catherine lit the night candle for them. It was a cherished tradition from her childhood and one she was honored to be able to carry forward. She kissed each of them on the cheek and bid them goodnight. Closing the curtain to their sleeping chamber, Catherine returned to find Vincent sitting on the daybed.

“Parenthood agrees with you,” Vincent said with a grin.

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you.” She sat down on the daybed and reclined against her husband, finding herself wrapped up in his welcoming embrace. The conversation was light and mostly about the day’s goings-on above and below before they, too, retired for the evening.

Their conversation was interrupted by an almost reluctant tapping at the entrance to their chamber. Vincent and Catherine exchanged glances of surprise. Nobody usually came around at this hour. Vincent rose to see who it was, and when he parted the curtain, he was even more perplexed. “Pascal?”

Far Below – One Hour Earlier

The light of a multitude of candles danced across the walls of the chamber, illuminating an entire lifetime’s worth of mementos. The small space was stocked floor to ceiling with books, crystals, bundles of dried herbs, and casks of powders of every description.

The sole occupant of this chamber stood gazing intently into a large, pale pink crystal affixed to a silver pedestal. Her otherwise calm expression took on a hint of annoyance as she looked up from her observations.

“They say patience is a virtue, child. But I think you do not feel that way about it, do you?” Narcissa shook her head and chuckled at the reply only she could hear. “All will be ready when it’s ready.” She turned and smiled at the vacant air before her, speaking softly and reassuringly. “I have already sent for him. When he gets here, all will be set in motion.”

Vincent and Catherine’s Chamber – One Hour Later

Pascal stood outside the entrance to the Wells family chamber with a very apologetic look on his face, fidgeting with the pipe strikers in his hands. “I am so sorry for disturbing you at this hour, but this is too out of the ordinary to wait until morning.”

Vincent stepped out into the tunnel, instantly taking on his mantle of guardian. “No need to apologize, Pascal. I know if it were not serious, you would have waited. What’s the matter?”

“We received a message in the old code from a pipe we rarely get any traffic on at all anymore. I almost missed it, what with all the Winterfest messages coming and going. But – well, you know me – I listen for everything, and I heard it. It’s from Narcissa. She says she needs to see you right away. She ended it with… P1.”

“Priority one? We haven’t used that for years.” His brow furrowed as he contemplated the implications of the old code intended to convey the utmost urgency. “Send a reply on that pipe. I will be down tonight. I will leave immediately.”

Narcissa’s Chamber ~ Midnight

Her face lit up seconds before anyone else would have detected his footfalls descending the steps that led to her chamber. Turning toward the entrance, she extended her hands in greeting. “Hello, Child. Welcome, welcome!”

Vincent took her hands in his own, relieved if not slightly confused, to find her in good health and her chamber just as it should be. “I came as soon as Pascal relayed your message to me. When you used P1, I feared the worst had happened. Are you all right?”

“I am fine, child. Never better.”

Vincent had known her all his life and the thought that something dire had happened to her had filled him with dread, but now all that ebbed away, replaced only with curiosity. She never did anything simply because she felt like it. Every single thing she had ever done his entire life had been driven by purpose. “As relieved as I am to hear that from you, may I ask why it was so vital that you see me at this hour?”

She smiled at his concern for her well-being and looked up at him. “It is not me who wants to see you, child. They have been waiting a long time — too, too long a time — for this moment, and I did not want to keep them waiting any more.”

He knew that she often spoke in a slightly cryptic way, but he sensed no one other than her in the chamber or in any of the tunnels around it.  “Who has been waiting to meet me?”

“Come. I will show you.” Narcissa guided him into an empty chamber he didn’t ever recall noticing before. In stark contrast to her living quarters, it was bare, not even so much as a candle adorned its walls. It was about the same dimensions as his with a small alcove at one end that seemed to defy any attempts of the candles behind him to cast their light into it and a bench carved into the wall to his right. If this was the place someone had been waiting for him, he was still at a loss to feel their presence. The air was still, almost unnervingly so. He drew it into his nose, cool and damp, searching for any faint scent that might suggest who this supposed person was. To his dismay, none of his senses revealed anything beyond the emptiness of the space.

He turned around to face her. “I don’t understand. I sense no one here but the two of us.”

“That is because you choose to see this place with the one thing you didn’t think to use – your heart. Look with that, and it will show you what you have wished to see all your life.” She turned to walk away to give him privacy, but then paused as if she could sense he didn’t quite have the means yet to see with his heart. “What is your name, child?”

“My name? You know my name.”

“But where did it come from, I wonder.” She said, leaving a trail of crumbs for his heart to follow.

He knew the story he, and everyone he knew, had been told wasn’t the truth any longer, and for a moment, he felt the deep pain it had caused him to learn the truth, but he answered her with a hint of regret in his voice. “I was named for the hospital I was found abandoned near as a baby – Saint Vincent’s.”

“And who was it that gave you that name, brought you to this world?”

He knew full well Narcissa knew the answer, but once again, he played along in the hopes it might shed some light on her intentions. “I was given that name by the woman who found me.”

Knowing he was so close to having the veil lifted from his eyes, she asked one final question. “What was her name, child?”

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment as his memories of what Paracelsus had told him crashed over him like a cold and vicious wave. “Her name was…Anna.”

“Yes, it is.” With that, she walked out of the chamber, leaving Vincent alone and perplexed at what the intention of those questions could have possibly been. All it left him with was the deep, longing for connection to the one person he had never known. The one person so vital to his very existence, yet so painfully absent from his life. His contemplation was abruptly cut short when he suddenly felt the room changing. It became brighter, aglow with a light heretofore unseen by him. His eyes went wide with surprise when he suddenly felt anything but alone in this chamber.

It had come alive. It felt like home. The coldness gave way in an instant to be replaced with a warmth like that of a pleasant summer evening above. Gone was the musty, stale dampness, and in its place a hint of something floral wafted around him.

He turned around abruptly and found himself looking into the once exceptionally dark alcove, now aglow with an ethereal light. He saw the vague form of a figure moving within the light around it. Yet as the figure walked closer, it began to coalesce, and to his amazement became unmistakably familiar. She wore a silver dress and a matching silver cloak with its hood draped back across her shoulders. Her expression was kindly, and the way she looked at him could best be described as complete adoration.

“Hello, Vincent.”

Vincent stared in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity. He recognized her face immediately, but his absolute shock made him freeze. Finally, he spoke. It was a simple statement, filled with wonder, grief, longing, and joy all contained in one single word. “Mother?”

Anna stepped out of the light and walked quickly towards him, arms outstretched wide. She spoke not a word but took him into a hug. Without any hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and found her to be as solid and real as anyone else. He knew from past experience that visitations like this were real and not the fairy tale stories most people thought of them as. For the first time in his life, he felt his mother’s love which had waited, ever so patiently, to make itself known to him again since the day he was born.

In a soft voice choked by the emotion of the moment, she said, “I’ve waited for so long to hold my son again.”

When the embrace finally ended, she looked up into his eyes and gently wiped a tear from his cheek. Taking him by the hand, they walked to the bench in the wall and she sat down, patting the empty space beside her. Vincent sat beside his mother and waited for whatever might come. There was so much he wanted to say, so many questions, that he couldn’t frame a single one.

Anna could sense Vincent’s uncertainty as to how to proceed with this reunion and so she broke the ice first. “I don’t exactly know how I’m able to be here right now, and, honestly, I’m content not knowing. All that matters is that I can finally tell you what I’ve wanted to for so very long.”

“I know how difficult it was for you growing up. Being so different from everyone else, dealing with challenges unique to yourself that no one else could understand. But in spite of all the hardships, you rose above all of them. You helped to build a world, you found love, started a family of your own, and now I have the long overdue chance to tell you how proud I am of you, Vincent.

“I was also pleased to learn I’m a grandmother. Twice. What are their names?” Anna asked softly, a sense of pride and curiosity in her voice.

Vincent, feeling a rush of warmth at the mention of his children, smiled, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment. “My son was named in honor of his grandfathers, Jacob Chandler Wells. My daughter is named in honor of her mother…and in honor of you. Her name is Catherine Anna Wells.”

Anna’s eyes glistened, her heart swelling with love. “Catherine Anna…” she whispered, as though tasting the name, feeling its weight and beauty. “How wondrous… to know that a part of me lives on in her, that she carries both my name and yours. You’ve given me a gift I never thought possible, Vincent. Thank you.”

Vincent’s voice caught in his throat as he took her hand in his, his own heart full. “I wanted her to know she carries your strength, your kindness, and your grace.”

“I’m told Jacob is his father’s son,” Anna said with a hint of a chuckle in her voice.

“He is most assuredly his father’s son. I am quite convinced that I am paying for the rambunctiousness of my youth, much to the delight of those who helped raise me.” They both enjoyed a laugh at his confession.

“And your daughter, is she like you as well?”

Vincent shook his head. “No. We adopted her shortly after Jacob was born.”

In spite of the joy of the moment, Anna seemed to sense a grievous weight on his heart and took the opportunity to address something long left unresolved. “I’m told that you were raised to believe that I found you as a baby.” She saw the look of guilt that swept across his face at the mention of it. “I’ve also been made aware of what John told you about how you came into this world.”

Vincent couldn’t bring himself to look at her, until she gently guided his gaze back to her with her hand on his cheek.” Mother…I’m deeply sorrowed that I was responsible for…”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Vincent.” She interrupted. “What happened to me the day you were born wasn’t your fault. John lied to you when he told you that you were responsible for my death. Just like he lied to Jacob, to everyone. I learned all too late that being untruthful to protect his ambitions and his pride was second nature to him.”

Vincent weakly spoke, a part of him needing to hear himself say, “I…didn’t kill you.”

Anna could only imagine the anguish that her son had endured when John had so wantonly and cruelly impaled Vincent’s heart with that lie as she continued, “I know now, that John had twisted ambitions that led to your being born, but in my dying moments when I held you just that fleeting instant before I passed, you were my baby boy, my son, and I loved you then just as strongly as I do right here and now.

“You didn’t kill me, Vincent,” she continued,” John did. The procedure he used to deliver you was too advanced for his skills, and in the end he used your uniqueness to hide his failures as a surgeon. He told you that you killed me because he knew at that moment he would never get from you what he had desired from the beginning. Then and there, he concocted that vicious lie because it would hurt you in a way that you might never recover.” She placed her forehead to his and continued, “I am the one that owes you the apology for having not been able to tell you all this sooner.”

At that moment, bathed in the love of his mother and unfettered by the chains forged by the vengeful lie Paracelsus had burdened him with, he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his very soul. Of all the gifts he had, or would ever receive come Winterfest, this would , forever be the one which his heart would hold with the greatest of fondness.

As the light in the chamber began to fade, they both knew that their time together was growing short. Vincent took the opportunity to ask one last question of his mother. “When you said that someone had told you about certain things in my life after your passing, who have you been talking to, Mother?”

“That… um… hi…that would be me, big guy.” Vincent recognized the voice immediately. He turned to face the opening leading to Narcissa’s chamber, and there, standing in the light of the flickering candles beyond, was Kristopher Gentian, his pleased grin radiating warmth and mischief.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here, Kristopher?” Vincent remarked, his voice dripping with the familiar tone of mild annoyance but with a hint of affection.

Kristopher chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s an easy one. You already know I’m dead. It’s everyone else I knew in life who would be surprised to see me.”

Anna, with a smile that clearly displayed her gratitude, spoke up. “Kristopher sought me out, Vincent. He found me and told me all about what he had learned about your life here—and about your longing to have had me in your life.”

Vincent shifted slightly in his seat, a mixture of surprise and irritation flickering in his eyes. “I only ever spoke of that longing in my journals,” he said, giving Kris an exasperated glare.

Kristopher raised his hands in mock surrender, “Yeah, about that… remember when you said some people ignored all the boundaries? My bad.”

The playful tension in the air lifted, and even Anna couldn’t suppress a quiet chuckle.

“Besides,” Kris continued in his defense,” I figured that if I could make the trip, why not Anna? We tried a few times to make it work, but I guess my aptitude for coloring outside the lines makes it easier for me to pop back and forth than it is for others. Eventually I enlisted the help of the greatest spiritual medium I know. Well, okay, technically the only one I know, but she’s still the best there is.”

“You flatter me,” Narcissa said as she approached the gathering. “But you still need to work on your patience, child.”

“How long will that take?” Kris said with a grin.

“You have all of time to improve, so get cracking,” she replied teasingly, joining him in a chuckle.

Vincent stood and walked over to Kris. “As much as your intruding into my personal journals should annoy me to no end, I have never been so thankful for your flagrant disregard for boundaries than I am right now.” Vincent extended his hand, much to Kris’s surprise. When Kris accepted his handshake, Vincent placed his other hand over it in a gesture of pure appreciation. “Your meddling is greatly appreciated by me, Kris. Thank you.”

For once in his life, Kris dropped his witty banter and simply shook Vincent’s hand. “You’re welcome.”

The light in the chamber began to quickly dim. When Vincent realized what was happening, he returned to Anna as she stood. She took his hands into hers and softly spoke the words neither of them wanted to hear.” It’s time for me to go, Vincent.”

The look in their eyes said it all. He didn’t want her to leave any more than she wanted to be parted from him again.

As the light in the chamber continued to dim, Anna cupped Vincent’s face in her hands, her gaze tender and full of love. “No matter what happens, no matter what comes, know that I will always love you, Vincent,” she said softly. “You are my beloved son, and nothing, not even death, will ever change that.”

No more words passed between them, for none had to. Anna held tightly to her son and the two embraced until Anna was gone.

The chamber was now as it had been before. Vincent stood there in the darkness. Where, before, his mother had been in his arms, now there was nothing. Yet, to the depths of his soul, a loving warmth remained that would be with him for the rest of his life.