Angels of Christmas Ch. 02

"Me, too." I said. "So do you think Carmela is planning to go after the next University President, especially if it's you?"

Laura replied: "Carmela and the Socialist Movement have always played a long game. They've often backed down when directly confronted, only to rise up even more strongly once they get more sentiment on their side. In it's own way, it bothers me more that he didn't put up more of a fight, like Jan Camp and Juanita Rivera wanted to do. It's very likely he still has something up his sleeve..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Things began slowing down after 12:00 high noon. Teresa left; she was taking a half-day vacation today and all day the next day, Christmas Eve. I did paperwork, and am happy to say that I got a great deal of the yearly paperwork done.

At 3:00pm, Tanya drove into my office and said "Don, I'm heading to the Hospital for my rehab, and then I'll meet my buddies when they arrive. And by the way, you should wear the logo sweater they gave you last year."

"And make sure Sheriff Griswold is available to receive a Christmas gift?" I asked.

Tanya grinned. "Not much gets past you. I'd ask how you know, but I know you're the one behind that... and that other gift, too." And with that, she drove out of my office...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

4:45pm, Wednesday, December 23rd. I parked in the 'Authorized Vehicles Only' area behind the Hospital near the E.R. entrance, then walked around to the front. A large stage like the ones at concerts had been set up in front of the flagpole and the Eternal Flame on the front porch. Semicircles of progressively rising floors for the choir were built against the back wall, partially enclosing the stage area itself.

To once side (the audience's right) was a temporary flagpole. Chairs were set up at the front of the audience, reserved seating for those who needed it, as well as areas for the wheelchair-bound on either side of the seats. Behind all that was the open grass of the front lawn. The front of the Hospital faces west-southwest, and looks west towards University Avenue. North, to the Hospital's left as one looks at the front, are rows of buildings on the University Campus. South, to the right, is the large parking lot, and behind the parking lot, to the east, are the Ronald McDonald Houses built and maintained for families of cancer patients.

Several large tents were erected between the parking lot and the stage area. One of these was for the choir that had been assembled to perform. As I approached it, Teresa came out to meet me. She was wearing her white pullover sweater with the 'Guardians of Justice' logos on front and back, which she'd been given the year before. (Author's note: 'Christmas In The County'.) I was wearing my red pullover sweater with the same logos, and of course my khaki Tilley Hat and khaki pants.

"Come on inside." Teresa said. "I want you to meet these guys." I followed her into one of the tents. Inside were male and female choir members, dressed in blue and red choir robes, respectively. And then I noticed that most of them were in wheelchairs, and many of them had missing limbs. Some were disfigured with healed burns on their faces and hands. And some were wearing formalwear, tuxedos for the men and off-white dresses with jackets for the women. They were the Orchestra.

"This..." Teresa announced, "... is the Handicapable Veterans Choir and Orchestra. They were the 'Handicapped Veterans Choir' until Tanya found out and made them change their name to the more positive one." I grinned and nodded at that; that was Tanya all the way.

Teresa then said "Every one of these choir members and orchestra players served in the military, and every one of them earned a Purple Heart in the service of our Nation. Everyone, this is Commander Troy, the Iron Crowbar." They began applauding.

"I'm honored to meet you." I said loudly. "And I salute you for your service and your sacrifice." And I did just that: I came to attention and saluted them. They returned the salute.

Teresa said "I began searching for a Veterans Choir like this months ago, and found there was none. Admiral Cordell and General McFarland helped me put this choir together, and The Maestro actually contacted me and asked to be able to work with them. Word is that he wasn't hard on them at all, and got them into sync very well."

"They're military veterans, so they're very disciplined already." I said. My iPhone chirped with a text from Tanya, so I said loudly "I'm looking forward to hearing you sing tonight!" and excused myself.

The rumble of motorcycle engines could be heard as I approached the parking lot. Parking in it was limited; visitors to the concert were being bussed in from parking lots near University Memorial Stadium. But we were allowing the motorcycles to be parked in neat lines along the back of the parking lot.

They were, of course, the Guardians of Justice M.C.

Tanya had ridden in her wheelchair to meet them, wearing her leather jacket with the GOJMC patch sewn onto the back. She was also wearing her badge on her belt and had her service weapon in its holster under the jacket.

The GOJMC was composed of younger riders, not all of them men, that were good in a fight. I also noticed a number of older persons, male and female, and their leather jackets included patches of Christian riding groups. And among them were several black men and women that were part of some of the GOJMC's several Christian groups.

"Crowbar!" I heard behind me as I was about to go greet them. I turned to see Our Sheriff, and with him was Carole. She was wearing her white sweater with the Clan Troy icon on it. The Sheriff had on a windbreaker jacket over his shirt, barely adequate for the coming chill of the night.

As I went over to them, I saw that people were beginning to arrive. Many younger people and families had brought blankets and put on the ground. Others were milling about, and some older people were finding chairs up front. The concert was free, but tickets had been sold for the chairs, mostly so they could be steered to the older guests.

"Hello, Sheriff." I said. "Carole, where's your mom?"

"She came with Grandma and Aunt Clarissa, then went into the Hos-pit-ul." said Carole. Before I could ask, she said "And Aunt Clarissa told me to call her 'Aunt Clarissa'. And I'm being good and staying with Grandpa Grizz."

"Good." I said as I looked over to see Clarissa and my mother Phyllis near the front, to the right of the audience, Clarissa in a wheelchair and Phyllis on a folding lawn chair she'd brought with her. I wondered why Carole was not with her grandmother.

Also arriving was a heavily pregnant Cindy Ross, wearing her University-blue sweater with the GOJ logo like mine and Tanya's (which is slightly different from the actual GOJMC logo). She was escorted by Callie Carrington, Cindy's father Dr. Eckhart, and a whole bunch of happy 'Vision' acolytes. My attention was distracted as Tanya led the GOJMC people up to me.

"Commander Troy," said one young-ish man, who was the leader of this contingent, "we're going to form a ring around the entire front lawn here. Our older people will be up front, near the stage, while our younger people will be towards the back, covering your six."

"I appreciate it." I said. "Do you happen to have any Christmas gifts this year?"

The leader grinned and said "We sure do." Four of the GOJMC members stepped up to the Sheriff and Carole. "Sheriff," said the leader, "we have a Christmas gift for you. You earned it with your support of Commander Troy and the TCPD during the rioting this year."

He extended a flat box to the Sheriff, who took it and opened it. "Har!" Griswold growled happily as he took out the Sheriff-Department-tan/khaki pullover sweater with the GOJ logo on it. He quickly shed his jacket and put the sweater on, his mustaches twitching as he beamed and thanked the GOJMC members.

"I wonder who was behind this, Crowbar?" growled the Sheriff to me.

"I dunno, Sheriff." I said. "But I'll bet he's a handsome young man."

The Sheriff barked a laugh. "Bout time you got rid of that modesty."

"And this is for you, Carole." said the GOJMC leader, extending a box to Carole. Ahh, I thought to myself, that's why Carole was with the Sheriff instead of her grandmother. And I had no part this, nor prior knowledge of it.

"Thank you!" Carole said as she took the box. She opened it to find a white pullover sweater with the GOJ logo. It was fully adult-sized, way too big for her. "This is grown-up size." she said astutely.

"We're giving it to you now," the leader said, "because we know you are going to grow into it." I nodded vigorously in agreement. It was also one of Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart's lessons at his Empowerment Camps, and I suspected Cindy and Tanya had collaborated to arrange for this gift for Carole. And yeah, maybe I'd helped make it happen...

"Here's one closer to your size, Carole." said Tanya, handing Carole an unwrapped red pullover closer to Carole's current size, with the same logo on it.

"Neat!" Carole said happily. "Thank you!" She then crisply (for a seven-year-old) saluted the GOJMC members. They saluted back.

"Can someone take us to meet the Veteran's Choir?" Tanya asked.

"I'll take you." I said. Sheriff Griswold took Carole to her grandmother, who would put Carole's clan sweater in her (Phyllis's) large bag purse while Carole wore the red GOJ shirt with great pride and happiness...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

5:30pm. The sun was touching the western horizon as I led Tanya and the GOJMC towards the tents. The music of Mannheim Steamroller's 'Celebration' began blasting through the speakers; the concert was starting!

As the choir members began filing out, I told Teresa that the GOJMC had asked to meet the choir. Teresa told the choir members, and word quickly spread. Then something awesome happened: two lines formed, like teams after a high school basketball game, the GOJMC going one way, the Handicapable Veterans Choir going the other. Hands were shaken or high-fived and sometimes salutes exchanged as they greeted each other.

The GOJMC went on around to form the perimeter as the Choir filed onto the stage and took their places behind the curtain that hid the stage. I went back to the audience, and was surprised to see that hundreds, and I mean hundreds of people were coming in and finding places to sit or stand. I could feel the positive energy as I made my way to where my family was. Paulina had joined them, and Tasha, Jim, Ross, Ian, and Todd and his kids Doug, Mike, and little Jack Burke were there, also.

And then I felt the Disturrrrbance in the Force. And so did Carole. "Something's wrong, Daddy." she said to me.

"I'm feeling something, too." Cindy said.

"Me, three." I said. I'd looked around, and seen no visible threats or problems. "I'll go check with Teresa." I left the group and went around to the side and back of the stage, where I saw Teresa talking to The Maestro. Her face looked pained; his looked totally shocked.

"Commander!" Teresa said as I came up to them. "You know The Maestro, Dr. Strauss?"

"Yes, Maestro." I said. "We're honored to have you conduct the Choir tonight."

"It's my honor, and privilege." replied The Maestro as we shook hands. "If you'll excuse me, I must take my place with the Orchestra." We nodded to him and he stalked off.

I turned to Teresa. "What's wrong?" I asked.

More pain on Teresa's face showed as she said "Alice, our virtuoso violinist. She just told me that she's out of remission, that her cancer has returned. On the day after Christmas, she will be re-admitted to the Cancer ward."

I groaned. "Damn." I said. And I could sense as much as see Teresa's own pain at the news.

"Okay, the show must go on." Teresa said. "Alice told me that she intends to beat the cancer again, but she will play her violin as if it is her last time. And she asked me to sing as if it's her last time..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As the instrumental 'Celebration' faded, the curtain came up to reveal the Choir in their semi-circle, the orchestra just in front of the stage, and Teresa Croyle on stage, in white jeans, white sneakers, and her white sweater with the GOJ logo.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the Iron Wolf's voice boomed out through the microphone she was holding. "Welcome to our Holiday Tribute to America!" The crowd cheered. Teresa said "The Handicapable Veterans Choir and Orchestra are being conducted by Dr. Wolfgang Strauss!" Everyone cheered with surprising strength as The Maestro came out, bowed to them, then took his place.

"Everyone please rise for our National Anthem." Teresa said. I saw Cub Scouts come out to the temporary flagpole by the side of the stage. As they got the flag attached, the renowned Booker T. Washington High School Drum & Bugle Corps marched out onto the stage, then began Ruffles & Flourishes. And then the Choir began singing, as did the audience, as the American Flag was hoisted up the flagpole.

As usual, Carole did not permit my voice to be louder than hers as we put our hands over our hearts and sang. At first, people looked strangely at us, then realized they could sing along, too. And they did.

Then the last verse began. The year before, Carole had not known the last verse. She had made that correction, and sang right along with me and the choir:

"O, thus be it e'er, where free men shall stand,
Be-tween their loved homes, and the war's desolation,
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heav'n-rescued land,
praise the Power that hath made, and preserved us a Nation!

Then conquer we must, if our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: In GOD is our trust!
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave,
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!"

As the Choir members that were not already in wheelchairs sat down, a group of college and high school aged girls in white pullover sweaters and blue pants came out, followed by other boys and girls in dresses and suits, the boys wearing Jewish kippahs, the skull caps. And I noticed that some of the young men in the Orchestra were also wearing kippahs. I would later be told that they were students at the Jewish Arts Academy in The City. They had been invited by Teresa to participate, and had very enthusiastically accepted.

They began singing and playing 'Hevenu Shalom Alechim'. The girls began a choreographed dance routine intermixing with each other, some raising their arms while others lowered theirs, some moving forward while others moved back. It was very well done, and looked good from my vantage point in the audience.

When they finished, they received a strong round of applause. Then the choir sang'For Unto Us A Child Is Born', then segued into 'America The Beautiful'. I particularly liked the third and fourth verses:

"O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life.

America! America! May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness,And every gain divine.

O beautiful for Patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears.

America! America! God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea."

This was a charity event, so how was money collected for the Hospital and Cancer Center? Susie Haskins had that under control. She and several other kids, including Frieda Franklin, Davie Marsden, and Timmy Austin, were walking through the.crowds carrying pots not unlike Salvation Army pots. They were escorted by Uniformed TCPD Officers who had volunteered to help, and people were generously donating cash and checks into the pots. The kids would take the pots into the Hospital after they were done.

I'd also been looking around for potential trouble, but so far had not seen anything. With the GOJMC loosely circling the perimeter and State Patrol Troopers either in a tent set up for them or watching the concert, I was not worried... until I saw Carole peering around, then getting onto a chair to see better. And then she went over to Tanya, who was parked behind Clarissa and my mom, and whispered something. Tanya immediately drove off towards the parking lot, where her van was parked.

"What's wrong, Fussbudget?" I asked Carole.

"I thought there were some bad people that hate the concert near those buildings." Carole replied. "But I don't see anything."

I scanned around, then got onto my Police radio and asked for patrols to check out the areas just to our north, and around University Hotel and the Tower Condos, also to the north.

While I was waiting to hear back, Teresa announced that Alice was going to play Mannheim Steamroller's 'Traditions of Christmas' on her violin, a beautiful instrumental that I liked very much. And I liked it even more hearing Alice play it on her violin.

As she played, Cancer Kids in their heavy white robes began trickling out. One of them was little Joy, who I heard was beating her cancer and would be released from the Hospital soon. The kids gathered on either side of Alice, watching and listening to her play.

And when the piece was finished, the kids went and group-hugged Alice. She began hugging them back. Carole had been watching attentively, then looked up at me and said "Did her cancer come back?"

I was surprised, but answered truthfully "Yes, I'm afraid so. How did you know?"

"All the other kids are hugging her." Carole said. "And they're either sad or worried about her." I looked and could observe that on the kids's faces, and Carole could have, as well. But I knew in my soul that it was more, that Carole just knew.

"Daddy, you gotta go." Carole said. She was now looking at the back of the crowd. I saw what she was seeing in the lights that had been set up: a large group of dozens of people, most of them college-aged, were approaching. They were armed with baseball bats, chains with locks on the end, tire irons... and crowbars. How dare they? I thought to myself.

"You stay here with Aunt Cindy." I said. In case you're wondering, Laura was inside the Hospital, on call to assist anyone who might need medical attention. And now it looked like her services just might be needed... especially if I had anything to do with it. I had a crowbar, too.

I began walking quickly towards the back, issuing orders into my Police radio. The GOJMC had also seen the massive group approaching, and their younger, more able-bodied men, and a few of their women that looked like they could and would do well in a fight, also began moving in that direction. I noticed State Patrol Troopers quietly massing to one side, but let the GOJMC and me take the lead in confronting the thug threat.

The concert had stopped as the danger was seen, and a quiet pall had taken over everyone. Teresa had come out on stage with Alice and the Cancer Kids, and was watching with a Police radio in her hand. Cindy was watching from where Clarissa and my family were.

The GOJMC closed ranks behind me as I stood and waited. Approaching us was the gang of slugs, and I could now see that they were wearing red Antifa sweaters or green Environmentalist sweaters. Leading them were true slugs in the worst meaning of the word: Harry R. Nance, who had 9 days left as a Superior Court Judge, and Dr. Lionel Carmela. Both men and many of the students had looks of ugly, unappeasable hatred on their faces.

*Whirrrrrrrrrrrr*.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw 'Tanya's Tank' drive up to my left, with Tanya perched upon it. She was armed with her service weapon. I was armed with the aforementioned red crowbar, and a strong desire to use it in personal combat.