Coven of Angels Ch. 06

She pulled me close, pressing her hips to mine. that was when I noticed something else. And she knew I knew. "You're probably wondering what to call me," there was a quality of nervousness in her voice. "The name's Gigi, and that's my truck. I'm headed to Toronto for work."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"The kind that can pay for my hormone replacement therapy."

"Kind of a waste of time," I muttered, not realizing the words that came out of my lips.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I think you're beautiful just the way you are." I knew I must have sounded abnormally sweet. My heart was racing, not out of fear, but out of passion. This was fate.

We drove out to Toronto where it turns out she was a first nation native. She worked as a stripper while I took a job at the public hospital, working towards a pediatric residency.

After three beautiful years together:

Gigi and I got married in July. I grew out my hair into long dreads, braided with a blue ribbon the color of the midwestern sky. There was no wedding or guests, just a promise made to each other under the light of God's love.

Now, twenty years later, I've gone into missionary work, living out my dreams in central America. I'm in my forties, still wearing my hair long, with noticeable streaks of gray. I run my own charity group, similar to doctors without borders.

Gigi and I were in Nicaragua helping out after the hurricane-monsoon-earthquake devastated the nation. I remember checking the broken bones of a child who was barely alive. Suddenly, a soldier in full riot gear with a mask covering their face rushed in and placed a small blood-covered lump of cloth in my arms. Before I could say anything, the soldier had vanished.

I stepped to the side, allowing one of the nurses to take over. Upon removing the cloth from its face, the baby was screaming in pain. That, at least meant it was alive. I opened the blanket to reveal a little boy. You couldn't have been older than six months.

When you locked eyes with me, your tears stopped and my heart melted. I remember you had wavy blond hair the color of corn and big blue eyes the color of the Dakota sky.

I named you Richard, after my pa.

Maybe one day you'll want to track down your birth parents. I think they were tourists from England or Sweden, something like that. I'll never stop you from wanting to know your roots. But you will always be my special boy.

End.