What is right is not always clear. Even an angel can be uncertain of the right course to take, and I have been more confused than most these past few days. What does it mean when helping one of my own means leading him around the edges of the law? If I myself did not take part in this tentative lawbreaking, am I still complicit if I do not stop him? And am I right to believe that what is gained in this venture is better than what it lost?
I think so. I have come through the worst of my unease to conclude that it was worthwhile. But you may judge for yourselves.
Alex did not sleep the night of the attack, and only a few hours last night. He went to work as usual yesterday, an agony of exhaustion and tension as he watched to see if anyone knew of his involvement in the incident with Dan and Warren. But I was busy, as well, watching those who had to cope with the news that two of their own had been arrested over the weekend. I was able to discourage Dan and Warren from mentioning Alex, reminding them of the hold he still has over them, of the information that will be all the more dangerous to them now that they are a liability to Hill. The man himself is very angry, having so recently had to pay damages for Mr. Quick’s assault charges, and so it seems that Dan and Warren may remain locked up for a time.
Enough time for Alex to finish his plan? Maybe, maybe not, but it was enough for him to complete the first stage.
Late this evening he excused himself on a “personal errand”, and he and I both made certain that he was not followed as he drove two towns west to a place he lived once. Though it was well past normal working hours, the small office where he stopped still had its lights on, and over the flowers in the windowbox, he could see a gray-haired woman bent over the desk. Alex smiled as he climbed out of the car and went up to knock.
The woman looked blank for only a moment when she opened the door. “Alex,” she said finally. “Alex Able.”
“Do you remember all your kids, Ms. Barragan?” he asked.
“Well, I sure do try,” she replied. “Lord knows there aren’t enough people who try to remember the names of foster kids.”
This was exactly the reason Alex had come to her—she was the one social worker of many in his life that he felt he could trust. “I need your help,” he said.
Her sweet face went serious, and she beckoned him into the office. It is one she shares with several other social workers, but she was the only one present, and so they had privacy as she got him a cup of tea and settled him comfortably. Only then did she ask what he wanted, and then she listened as he told her his story.
I watched her aura as she listened, and I saw the sorrow in her as she heard of the company he’s fallen into, and the surprise and suppressed pride as she realized what he has been doing—suppressed because she could not approve of him using Hill’s methods against him, but still pride because of the reason for it. And her heart raced with sympathy as she heard about the attack on Miranda and Evan, and the real danger that they still faced.
“So what do you want me to do?” she asked when he had finished. “I don’t have any more pull with the police than you would.”
“I know,” Alex said. “I’m not worried about that, I can handle it. But I want your help with something else.” He leaned forward. “I want to set up a trust fund for Evan—something you can say came from a distant relative, maybe an inheritance? Something that they can use to pay off the debt.”
Ms. Barragan frowned. “You want me to take dirty money that you stole from a career criminal and claim that it comes from this kid’s family, when he hasn’t had any family all his life?”
“Look, I’ve already got it set up in an account,” Alex said, and he pulled out papers to show her. “All you have to do is help me with the details to make it official.”
“Thereby falsifying official records.”
“Make the gift anonymous then. It won’t be a lie—I sure don’t want anyone to know that it’s coming from me.”
“Alex—”
“Ms. Barragan, please.” Tired and more than a little desperate, Alex was less restrained than he usually is, and he reached out and took Ms. Barragan’s hands. “This kid has a real chance—Miranda’s an amazing woman and she could be a great mom. It wasn’t even her fault that they’re in this mess, she’s just doing the best she can. I want to help them, and for the first time in my life I can do something about it.”
Ms. Barragan shook her head and got to her feet, going over to her desk. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just trying to get some time to think.
Presently she said, “You know, I remember what I thought when you told me that you chose the name Able. I did believe that you could do anything you set your mind to.” She laughed a little. “Maybe I should have worried about what you would set that mind to doing.”
“Maybe you should have.” Alex watched her for a moment. “Look, Ms. Barragan, I’m going to find a way to do this one way or another. But I’d like to have your help. And with someone like you to make it more official, it will go easier for them.”
He didn’t say, wasn’t even really aware himself, that he also wanted her help because he wanted her affirmation. Alex wanted the one adult in his life that he’s ever trusted to tell him that he was doing the right thing.
I was about to show this to Ms. Barragan when I realized that she had seen it already. She knew that despite his methods, he was trying to help others. If she said no, he would have to struggle on alone, which could disillusion him again. This was the thought that decided her—that she had the power to steady Alex’s feet on a better, more selfless path than the one he had taken up to that moment.
“All right,” she said finally. “Give me all that and I’ll work it out. They’ll have the money by Thursday.”
Alex jumped to his feet and threw his arms around her neck. I in turn put my wings around them, less jubilantly, but no less relieved.
“All right, boy, settle,” Ms. Barragan laughed. “And sit down with me again, we’ve got some work to do.”
In the end, it did not take long to work out the details, which was good—Ms. Barragan was late for dinner with her family. On her way out with Alex, though, she hesitated, resting a hand on his arm. “You know that if you go to the police with all that you’ve got—”
“I know,” Alex said, who has thought through all his plans carefully. “With what I’ve done for Hill, I’ll probably serve some time myself. But it won’t be a lot with my cooperation, I don’t think, and I don’t mind so much.” There was a great deal of peace in his spirit. “It’s funny, Ms. Barragan—I’ve been scared of going to prison this whole time I’ve been working for Hill, but now I’m not. Because now there’s someone who will come to visit me and who will be happy when I get out.”
Ms. Barragan shook her head, though her heart was filling with warmth. “Alex Able, you got a funny way of turning out okay.”
He laughed and hugged her one more time, promising to keep in touch. As he drove back to his tiny apartment, he was content, and he went straight to bed and slept well.
His conscience is easy because he knows he has done the best he could with the lot he was given. That, I think, is the factor that has decided me—that our brothers and sisters on Earth have limited resources of goodness with which they can work. Sometimes they have to use the darkness that is at their disposal to make more light in the world. To me, that is a greater miracle than any that we angels can work. Like Ms. Barragan, I am proud of Alex, and I hope that he can continue to fight through the darkness and find his own place in the light. More than that, I mean to do all that I can to make sure of it.