CAL'S CHRISTMAS VISITOR
Chapter One

It was dark and cold. Very cold.

Cal rubbed his forehead and screwed up his eyes to try and read the ledger before him. The candlelight danced and flickered and made his task harder. The snow had fallen heavily all day and it was the darkest, coldest night he remembered. The power had been cut for a few hours now. Cal took another mouthful of the brandy that always seemed close to hand these days. It burned its way to his stomach and warmed him far better than roaring fire in the hearth.

"This is hopeless!" he muttered to himself, leaned back in his chair and sighed. It was Christmas Eve and Cal was dressed in a white shirt and suit trousers, ready to go out for the evening. He was due to accompany his father to the theatre and then on to a dinner party. But he had changed his mind at the last moment, deciding to stay at home and go over some of the company books. Christmas was a time of love and joy but Cal felt none. It was a time of light and peace, but Cal's heart was filled with darkness and he felt no peace. Since Rose had gone, Christmas meant nothing to Cal but a cruel reminder of what might have been. He felt no peace as he carried the burden of guilt from his actions that night. He did not want to go anybody's dinner party tonight of all nights. He could not bear the sympathetic looks and comments. Nor the sight of other couples together, laughing, enjoying themselves. It should have been him and Rose. It should have been their party. She would be the hostess, radiant and beautiful. And they would have been with their friends, sipping champagne and singing Christmas songs around a piano. They might have even had a child by then. Their party, their life, their Christmas.

A knock on the door brought Cal back to the present.

"Come in," he called.

The housekeeper stood there in coat and hat ready to leave.

"I'm off now Mr. Caledon. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, thank you," Cal grudgingly thanked her.

"Well, there are some cold meats and breads on the kitchen table if you are hungry. We'll all be back after church. Good night Mr. Caledon and Merry Christmas!"

The corner of Cal's mouth twitched, but he said nothing, just waved the glass. The housekeeper departed and he was alone once more.

Cal took another mouthful. He was angry with Rose for leaving him, not only for walking away from him in front of everyone else, but for choosing to die with that filth Dawson. He got angry a lot these days, even a year later. Rose had been on his mind since Thanksgiving. For a man alone, this time of year was indeed torturous.

"Why leave me for him Rose? You stupid girl, I hope he was worth it." He took another mouthful of the fiery liquid.

"Rose, Rose," he said aloud, to no one in particular. "What didn't I give you? What couldn't I give you?"

There was no answer. Cal had asked this question countless times. There was never an answer. He ran his hands through his smooth, groomed hair. A chill suddenly ran through him. He shivered and glanced at the fire. It was dying down. He was about to call for a servant to stoke it up when he remembered that all the servants had gone to midnight mass. He was alone and rather than dirty his hands with the coal, he drank more of his firewater. The brandy did not cheer him. It seemed to aggravate the situation and his mourning for Rose began to turn into anger.

"My necklace. You cost me that necklace. You never knew it was in the pocket!" He laughed, a wild drunken laugh. He staggered to his feet and crossed over to window. Drawing the curtain aside he looked outside. People carrying lanterns were struggling in the snow. Strains of a carol came over to him.

"Peace on earth, goodwill to all men."

"Hah," said Cal aloud. "Goodwill to all men, all men except those called Dawson!" He looked to the ceiling. and shouted, "Do you hear me, Dawson? Well I am still here, Dawson. I won, Jack, I won!" He held the glass up high as if having a toast then swallowed the contents.

Smiling triumphantly, he went back to desk, refilled his glass and went to stand by the fire. He watched the hypnotic flames. Within them he saw Rose's face, her delicate features framed by tendrils of curly red hair. She smiled at him. "I love you Cal," she said. Then she was gone. Poor sweet Rose. She had been taken in by that Dawson fellow. He stared back at the flames.

"I curse you, Dawson. To hell and be damned!" he shouted angrily and hurled the glass into the fire. The glass chinked violently as it hit, the flames roared up fuelled by the spirit. Cal leaned forward and put his head in his hands. He could still hear the clinking of glass in the hearth. Clink. Clink. The annoying noise brought Cal back to the present. He looked at the fire. It had died back down. Where was the irritating clinking coming from?

Cal winced as he heard the irritating metallic sound again. Slowly he reached into the pocket of his vest, feeling the need to protect himself. Since Lovejoy had died, he’d preferred to carry a pistol himself, rather than depend on someone else. His hand wiggled down into the place where the gun should have been, but it was not there.

“Damn,” muttered Cal.

He turned his body slowly, his mind spinning even faster from the brandy. The sound was coming from behind him. Not from the fireplace. He took in the view of his study and at first noticed nothing, until he glanced in the far corner.

“I must be seeing things,” he said out loud.

“No, Cal, you’re not seeing things. I’m here. I was asked to come and pay you a little visit. And by the way, Cal, no gun could get rid of me.”

Cal gasped and sputtered, not comprehending what was being said to him. The words he wanted to speak were stuck in his throat. He stared again at what the apparition and tried to get a grip on himself.

“Dawson? Dawson, what are you doing here? Why are you here?” Cal squinted to be sure that what he saw was real.

“As I said, Cal, I’ve some to pay you a visit. To show you a few things,” said Jack calmly.

“How did you get in here? I’ll have you thrown out.”

He reached for the servants’ bell and then he reminded himself again, that he was alone in the house.

“Damn, how did I let myself get into a situation like this?” he thought, berating himself for his carelessness.

Cal watched as Jack picked up and touched a few items on the table behind the sofa. Some pictures, a paperweight and a copy of the invitation to the wedding that never happened. He looked at Jack again and realized at last where the clinking sound had been coming from. Dawson still wore the handcuffs that had been placed on him the night Titanic sank. And he was dressed in the same flannel shirt and corduroy pants. Surely a person would not still be wearing the same clothes a year and a half later, unless they were…….

“Dawson, I thought you died that night. Rose too. Where is she?” Cal shouted.

Jack stared at Cal who still looked like a gentleman on the outside. Nothing, however, could conceal the black heart of the man. Even though Jack had sacrificed his own life, he realized now just how important it was that he had saved Rose from this monster.

“I did die, Cal. As to Rose, well, only I can decide whether or not you find out what happened to her."

Cal took several large strides over to where Jack stood. He reached out to touch Jack. He wanted to grab him and drag him from the room. Would he never be rid of this peasant, this lowlife who had ruined all of his plans? He tried to put his hand on Jack’s arm. But there was nothing there. Only the sensation of cold, damp air.

Cal’s throat tightened and he found it difficult to breathe. “Jack, what do you want from me? Why have I been so honored by a visit from you?” Cal drawled, truly frightened now, but trying not to show it. He hoped that perhaps this was a bad dream from which he would wake.

“Cal, you have some choices to make. It’s still not to late for you. You don’t have to keep destroying everyone’s life, including your own. I’ve been asked to come here and help you."

“Don’t be ridiculous. How can a gutter rat like you, help me?”

Jack folded his arms over his chest. He did not think that this would be an easy task. There had to be some way to entice Cal to come with him.

“If you come with me Cal, I’ll let you see Rose again. And you can decide for yourself whether she is happy or not. I give you my word.”

“Your word?” questioned Cal. “What good is your word? And how do I know I can trust you? What if she is dead? What good is any of this?"

Jack nodded his head and gave Cal one of his gentle smiles. “That is just your problem, Cal. You never trusted anyone. You never really even loved anyone. What you felt for Rose was not love. She was just a trophy for you. And even if you had loved her, you were not worthy of the wonderful things she would have been able to give back. Whatever happened to her, Cal, is better than what she would have had here.”

Cal sneered as he looked back as Jack.

“And what do you know about love, Jack. a pauper like you?” he asked snidely.

“Are you going to come with me or not, Cal? This is your only chance to account for what you have done. And when we are finished, you will understand about love and the power it holds. Real love. That even death can not destroy.”

Cal studied Jack, his simple crumpled clothes, his boyish looks, long hair. Whatever did Rose see in him?

"Well?" asked Jack, arms still folded.

"No, no," Cal shook his head in disbelief. "You aren't real. This isn't real. This is, this is..." Cal fought for words. He tapped his chin agitatedly and paced up and down. "This is a bad bottle of brandy. I will wake up in a minute and you will have gone." Cal pointed the finger at Jack and shouted. "You will have gone!"

Jack put both hands on the back of the sofa and leaned towards Cal.

"Ok, Ok. I can go if that is what you want. But this is your last chance Cal. And you'll never see Rose if you turn me away." His blue eyes stared hard into Cal's dark hard ones. There was no reaction.

"Very well then." Jack pulled himself up straight. "I'll go. I didn't want to come anyway. I said it would be a waste of time."

Jack started to walk towards the door. Cal looked towards him. "Jack, if I go with you, I will see Rose?"

"Yes. But you must understand. If you come with me, it mustn't be just to see Rose. There are other things you must see."

"What things?"

"I told you, Cal, you have choices to make. It is still not too late for you. You don't have to spend each night lying awake feeling guilty, unable to let Rose go."

Cal looked at him amazed. "You know all that?"

"I know lots of things. Now, are you coming with me or not?"

"Where are we going? Do I need a top coat?"

Jack laughed and knocked the hair from his eyes. "No, you'll do just fine. Now follow me."

Jack headed for the door which led from the study to the hall. Cal followed obediently, slightly bemused and very apprehensive.

As Cal stepped through the door he was blinded by a brilliant white light. It took him by surprise and he cried out as he put his hands up to shield his eyes. As the light subsided, Cal gingerly took his hands away. But instead of the comforting familiar sight of the hall, he was very surprised to see that he wasn't in the house at all.

Chapter Two
Stories