Date: Thu, 8 Nov 2001 16:22:47 EST
From: MystryAuthr@aol.com
Subject: Chapter 32 of All Lost Things

Here is the final chapter of All Lost Things. I hope you have enjoyed the
journey as much as I have. Drop me a line and let me know what you thought.

Email me at: Aterovis@aol.com

Or visit my website at: http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts


Chapter 32

	"I'll get it," I said as the doorbell chimed.

	"No, you stay there," Adam ordered jumping to his feet. "I'll get
it."

	"Adam! For God's sake, I'm not an invalid. I've been home for 6
days and I feel fine. I think I can open the front door."

	"The doctor said seven days," he said stubbornly, but he did sit
back down.

	I threw him a grateful smile as I escaped from the room to answer
the door. I was beginning to feel like I was in a prison. After I regained
consciousness, the doctors had released me after another night of
observation. I received instructions to take it easy for one week; I wasn't
to do anything too strenuous or turn my head too quickly. If I hadn't
developed any serious symptoms in that time, such as dizziness, poor
coordination, memory lapses or vision difficulties, I was fine and could
get back to normal. Otherwise I may have more serious damage and I was
instructed to get my tail back to the hospital pronto.

	I had relaxed at home until I was ready to scream. I needed a
vacation from relaxation. A guy can only watch so much TV and spend so much
time on the internet. Adam let me feed and bathe myself but that was just
about it. He waited on me hand and foot, and Steve was almost as bad. The
only person who acted normal around me was Kane. The ringing doorbell was a
welcome change of pace. It meant I'd get to see someone new. Except for
Micah, I hadn't seen anyone all week.

	That wasn't to say I had been kept out of the loop. Everyone had
been careful to keep me abreast of what was going on. Caleb had been
officially charged with the murder of his father, Finn had been charged as
an accessory and accomplice, and they had both been charged with my
attempted murder among a host of other, smaller but still serious
charges. Caleb had apparently sung like a bird, placing all the blame for
the idea behind the acts squarely on Finn's shoulders. Since what I had
heard confirmed this, I had a feeling that it would be a long time before
Finn was free, if ever.

	The press was having a field day with the revelations, especially
the local TV station. For the first few days everyone somehow managed to
keep my name out of it, but it was too good to last. Soon we had reporters
calling and knocking on the door every ten minutes. Thankfully that initial
flurry didn't last too long and they had dropped off to one to two a
day. My favorite headline was "Local Boy Wonder Does It Again!" Adam
promised to have it framed for me.

	There was always the chance that this was just another reporter at
the door but I was getting good at dealing with them and honestly they
weren't as bad as they seem on TV. Most of them were very polite.

	I swung open the door, a polite smile on my face, and stopped
cold. "Asher," I said in a surprisingly calm voice.

	"Hi, Kill. I hope it's ok that I just stopped by. I mean, I
was...I'm...hi."

	"Hi."

	We stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds while Asher
shifted from one foot to the other. Finally he spoke up again.

	"Would it be ok if I came inside? I'd like to talk to you."

	"Yeah, uh, sure. Sorry." I quickly stepped back to allow him in.

	He moved into the hall where we once again stood staring at our
feet while we tried to figure out what to say. It was once again Asher who
broke the silence.

	"I was going to come see you at the hospital but..."

	"I wasn't even there that long. It's ok."

	"Still. Then I was going to come by here, but it's been a rough
week."

	"Yeah, for a lot of people I guess."

	That uncomfortable silence rose up between us again and I wondered
what it was that had brought him by here.

	"Look," he said at last, "Can we go somewhere a little more
private? I need to talk to you about something important and I'd rather not
do it in your front hall."

	"Ok," I shrugged and started up the stairs. He followed behind me.

	Once we were in my bedroom I sat on the desk chair and swiveled it
around to face Asher. He was standing in the middle of the room with his
hands in his pockets and his head down.

	"So what's going in?" I asked after a minute. These tension filled
pauses were beginning to get old.

	He took a deep breath and looked up. "I've been doing a lot of
thinking this last week; about a lot of things but mostly about you and me
and me and Caleb."

      I raised an eyebrow but kept quiet and waited for him to continue.

      "What happened between us was partially both of our faults, but I
think most of the blame pretty much belongs to me."

	"Ash..." I started but he cut me off.

	"Killian, please just let me say what I have to say without
interrupting me. Like I said, I've been thinking about this a lot and I
need to say this, ok?" I nodded and he took another deep breath. "I know we
both did some stuff wrong, neither of us is perfect and we're both young. I
don't think we were ready for such a serious relationship, at least you
weren't and I really wasn't either, although I thought I was. I expected
too much from you and expected too much from our relationship. I was trying
to push too hard too fast and you simply weren't ready."

	I opened my mouth again but a sharp look from Asher silenced me as
he swept on.

	"When we broke up I felt really lost for a while. We'd been a
couple for so long I'd forgotten how to be my own person. When I met Caleb
he seemed so sweet and sincere...and scared and lonely. I felt like I
could make a difference for him, be something that he needed. The whole
time I was just being a fool, being used by a manipulative little liar."

	"You couldn't know..."

	"Why not? Why didn't I know? Why couldn't I see it? Because I
didn't want to. I wanted to be needed. I wanted to be a hero." I didn't
know what to say, but thankfully Asher didn't seem to expect or really even
want me to say anything. "I don't even know if our friendship is even
salvageable at this point," he went on, "and I know I never want to see
Caleb again, so I've made some really important decisions."

	"What kind of decisions?" I didn't like where this conversation was
heading. It was starting to feel very final.

	"Major ones. I've talked to Mom and Dad and they are being really
supportive. Everything is already in motion. I just thought you deserved to
hear it from me."

	"What's in motion? What are you talking about?"

	"I'm moving, Killian, leaving the area. I need to get away
from...everything."

	"Leaving? When? Where are you going?"

	"I'm leaving tomorrow and I'll be going to my uncle's place in
Alexandria. He's not really my uncle but he was Dad's best friend all
through college and we've always called him Uncle Billy. He's like some big
shot at one of the universities up there. He's trying to get me into
classes there. I mean I know it's last minute but he seems to think he can
pull it off. If not, I'll take the semester off and start in the
spring. Either way I just need to get away, so..."

	"I can't believe you're leaving."

	"Why not? What difference does it make really? I mean, you've moved
on. You're happily seeing that Micah guy. We're not exactly buddies
anymore."

	"But I didn't..."

	"I'm not blaming anything on you, Killian. I just need to get away
from here. I think it'll be good for me."

	"You mean you're running away." I knew I was lashing out, but my
thoughts were spinning and I couldn't seem to gain control of them.

	"No, I don't think it's running away to put some distance between
yourself and painful memories. Maybe I'll be back someday when I've put all
this behind me, but right now it's all just too...well, painful."

	"I...I thought we'd be friends again."

	He shrugged. "Maybe we will. But like you told me before, not right
now."

	"Asher, I'm sorry..."

	"I didn't come here to lay a guilt trip on you or anything like
that. I can't lie and say I'm not hurt and angry, I am. But I don't blame
you for that. I just wanted you to know that I was leaving and I thought
you deserved to hear it from me."

	"I...I don't know what to say."

	"How about goodbye? I have to go. I have a lot of stuff to do;
packing and stuff, and I still have to go tell Will and Darin bye."

	I opened and closed my mouth silently a few times. "Goodbye," I
finally managed.

	Asher gave me a sad smile and turned to leave.

	"Asher wait," I jumped up and threw my arms around him in a tight
hug. At first he just stood there, then his arms slowly came up and
completed the embrace. After a few moments he pulled back and quickly
slipped out the door, but not before I saw tears forming in his eyes.

* * *
	I was left stunned by Asher's news but tried to cover up my
confused feelings when Micah came over later that night. We were alone in
the living room, settled in front of the TV, when he asked, "Are you ok?
You seem really distracted."

	"I'm fine," I fibbed. "Just distracted, I guess."

	"Distracted by what?"

	"Um..." Good question. I didn't really want to go into the whole
Asher mess with Micah again, especially my ambivalent feelings about his
leaving. A way out occurred to me. "You know, this whole thing with digging
up the baby."

      The whole time I was recovering, preparations had been in full swing
for the excavation of the basement at Amalie's house as we were all calling
it these days. Steve had checked on the local laws concerning human remains
found on private property and discovered that we were going to have to have
the county coroner examine the remains do determine if they were Native
American or not. He had 48 hours to look them over and as long as he ruled
that they weren't native, which we were fairly positive they wouldn't be,
we could rebury them in the private cemetery on the property with his
permission.

	Steve had called and talked to him, and while the man clearly
thought we were all stark raving mad, he had agreed to be present when we
dug up the cellar. In addition to Steve, Adam, Judy, me, Micah and the
medical examiner, Bryan Caibre, the pastor of the local MCC church and
Will's friend, would be there as well. It was shaping up to be quite an
event. I wondered if we'd serve refreshments; maybe a little champagne and
some hors d'oeuvres.

	They had scheduled the big event for the weekend immediately
following the doctor prescribed 7 days of rest. The medical examiner
couldn't be there until that evening and seeing as how he was doing us a
favor we had arranged our schedule to accommodate him.

	"Are you nervous?" Micah asked me now.

	"Not really. I'm just ready for it to all be over."

	"Well I'm nervous. I've never seen a real skeleton before. And I've
still not seen a ghost. I'm wondering if Amalie will make a personal
appearance."

	I shrugged as I flipped through the station guide on the TV. "If
she does it'll only make your story that much better, right?"

	"You still want me to go ahead with that story?"

	"Why not? Steve thinks it will be good publicity. Hey, have you
ever seen Beautiful Thing?" I asked suddenly. It was playing on Bravo and
since it was one of my favorite movies it was the perfect chance to change
the subject yet again. He hadn't and we settled down to watch.

      When the big night arrived, we drove over in two cars, Adam and Steve
in one, and Micah, Kane and I in Micah's. Judy, Bryan and the ME, or
medical examiner, were supposed to meet us there. We were leaving early so
we could meet everyone as they arrived. Kane hadn't particularly wanted to
come, but his date had canceled on him at the last minute and he had
decided that he might as well go along for what was hopefully going to be
the last chapter in the Amalie saga.

	Predictably, Judy was the first to arrive. The ME and Bryan weren't
far behind. We all stood making small talk in the upstairs hall for a few
minutes until Steve announced that it was time to get the show on the road.

	Everyone crowded into the basement, which was lit as bright as day
thanks to several 1000 Watt light stands that had been set up in each
corner. I got my first good look at the medical examiner. He was a short,
dark fellow with an egg-shaped, shiny bald head that stuck up out of a thin
ruff of graying hair. He looked to be in his mid to late-fifties and was
definitely on the portly side. He was wearing a very bored expression along
with his dung-brown polyester pants and beige button up shirt. He gave the
impression that he wasn't exactly the life of the party wherever he went. I
wondered what Steve had told him as to why we suspected there was a
skeleton under the floor. If he'd told him the truth I doubted he would
have been here. He would have probably just called in the men in the white
coats to cart us all away.

	Personally I was beginning to wonder if that wouldn't be for the
best anyway, at least as far as I was concerned. I hadn't seen anything of
Seth since the barn and I was frankly beginning to wonder if it had all
been my imagination or some sort of delusion. Maybe Finn had done me a
favor by knocking some sense into me with that shovel. Or maybe he'd
damaged the part of my brain that housed the Gift, with a capital "G" as I
had come to think of it.

	Steve had told me that he and Judy had come back on their own while
they waited for me to recover and Judy had pinpointed the spot where she
thought the baby was. Now, while we all watched in a heavy anticipation,
the two of them began digging into the packed earth carefully with small
trowels. If they began to hit anything the ME would step in and assist.

	It didn't take long to find something; Amalie hadn't buried the
baby very deeply. The collective sharp intake of breath at the sight of the
first tiny dirty bones was easily audible in the oppressive silence. In the
moments that followed the initial gasp not a sound was heard, and then a
shuddering gust of wind swept through the room, as if the house itself was
giving a sigh of relief.

* * *
	Several hours later, a complete, if tiny, skeleton had been laid
out on a piece of tarpaulin next to a shallow hole. Of those gathered
around, only the medical examiner and Bryan had really been surprised by
the grisly find. The coroner only took a few minutes of examination to tell
us that while he didn't know how we knew about the baby, it had obviously
been in the ground for a long time so it wasn't a matter for the police. He
gathered up the remains in the tarp and stood up, tucking the surprisingly
small bundle under his arm.

	"Well, this is nothing official, but my preliminary feelings are
that these are not Native American bones. If you still want to re-inter the
remains on your own, I should be able to release them back to you on Monday
if nothing comes up."

	"Thank you for coming out, Dr. Niemeyer," Steve said graciously,
brushing the last bits of dirt from his hands so he could shake the ME's
outstretched hand.

	Once he was gone, we all stood around looking at each other
uncertainly, as if to say, what now? Judy was still poking in the dirt.

	"Well, I didn't know what to expect when you asked me to come,"
Bryan said to Steve, "but I have to say this wasn't it. How did you know
the...er, skeleton was there?"

	"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Steve said with a grin.

	"Believe him," Adam chipped in.

	"Try me," the pastor challenged with a friendly smile of his own.

	"Well," Steve began, but was cut off by an exclamation of surprise
from Judy. She jumped to her feet cupping something in her hands.

	"More bones?" Kane asked in a slightly aghast tone. His color had
just started returning; he'd been looking a bit green during the
excavation.

	"No," Judy said. She definitely sounded excited and we all quickly
crowded close to see what it was she had found. "It's a brooch."

	It was a brooch; one I'd seen before, in fact, on the portrait I
had found in the storage room. It was crusted with dirt but as Judy brushed
it away it was easily recognizable. "Amalie's brooch," I gasped.

	"Well, that cinches it," Steve said with deep satisfaction.

	"Cinches what? Who's Amalie?" Bryan asked in confusion.

	"I think we'd better go somewhere a little more comfortable and
we'll tell you the whole story," Adam said, taking pity on the poor
confused guy.

	"How about our house? We can all get something to eat and relax,"
Steve suggested. Everyone agreed and we all moved up-stairs, Steve staying
behind long enough to turn the lights off.

	We drove in a caravan of vehicles to our house and we were herded
into the living room with drinks and a plate of cheese and crackers.

	"Ok, so I want the whole story," Bryan said as soon as everyone was
settled. "What's going on? How did you know there was a baby under there?"

	Adam and Steve exchanged looks, as if deciding how much to
say. Judy, however, had no such reservations. She leaned forward eagerly.

	"The house is haunted," she said with the same fervor a chatty
neighbor with a choice bit of information might tell a fellow gossip.

	To his credit, Bryan didn't even blink. "Really? By the baby?"

	"No, no. Well, yes, but not primarily."

	I didn't blame Bryan for his confused expression.

	"The house is haunted by the spirit of Amalie Marnien," Steve
stepped in. "She was the wife of the man who had the house built in the mid
1800's. We think the baby in the basement was her child. I don't blame you
for finding this all a little far-fetched..."

	"Actually, I don't," Bryan interrupted. "I'm not one of those
close-minded clerics who don't believe in anything except what they were
told to believe. I've had experiences with supernatural beings before and
I'm not just talking about the Holy Ghost. I was even involved in an
attempted exorcism when I was in seminary, although I never heard how
successful we were. Not very, would be my guess. I wouldn't think the
spirit world would respond to vague threats and mumbo-jumbo anymore than
the physical world."

	Adam laughed. "I think we underestimated you, Bryan. I know it's a
mistake I won't make again. You're taking this better than I did."

	Bryan grinned. "Don't worry, everyone seems to underestimate me;
some because of the title and others because of my age. I'm used to
it. It's actually fun to prove people wrong now and then. So this ghost,
Amalie, showed you where the baby was? How did the baby die?"

	"She didn't exactly show us," Steve said slowly.

	"We saw it in bits and pieces of vision seen by Killian and
myself," Judy explained.

	That caused the young pastor's eyebrows to take a leap. "Killian,
you're psychic, too?"

	I snorted. "Hardly! Judy says I'm a sensitive, that's all."

	"That's all, he says," Steve grumbled. Bryan looked impressed.

	"Together we got a picture of Amalie falling down the stairs to the
cupola and accidentally killing the baby," Judy went on. "Then we saw her
digging a hole in the earth floor of the basement. We concluded that she
had buried the baby there so I went back and did some sensing down there
and pinpointed the spot where I thought the baby was."

	"Hey!" I said, suddenly remembering my other vision. "How does the
guy in the boat fit into this?"

	Everyone turned to look at me blankly.

	"The guy in my first vision? Or was that just a weird dream that
had nothing to do with anything?"

	"Good question," Judy said thoughtfully. "I really have no idea."

	"Maybe it was Amalie's husband," Bryan said.

	"He was a sea captain," Steve said, "He was lost at sea around the
time we think this was happening."

	"Maybe it was the baby's father," Judy suggested slowly.

	"Huh?" I asked intelligently. I thought we had just established
that he was lost at sea.

	"The baby's father wasn't necessarily the Captain," Judy
clarified. "She was home alone much of the time. She was young and
beautiful; it wasn't that uncommon, even in that day, for a woman in her
position to have a lover."

	"Do you have any proof?" Adam asked.

	"None at all."

	"This is like trying to put a puzzle together without knowing what
the picture is," Adam complained.

	"And without even having all the pieces," I added.

	"We're not going to figure it out tonight," Judy said
pragmatically, "It may remain a mystery forever."

	"Cheery thought. I like to have nice neat endings," Steve said in a
slightly whiny voice.

	"Real life doesn't always have nice neat endings," Bryan
observed. "So what was my involvement tonight, anyway? Why did you want me
there?"

	"I don't know really," Steve said honestly. "I think it was just a
feeling that someone from the church should be present at the disinterment
of a body."

	"Are you going to rebury it somewhere?"

	"We'd like to, assuming Dr. Niemeyer releases the remains to us."

	"So clinical, calling the baby `the remains'," Judy said with
distaste.

	"It would help if we knew what gender the baby was." Steve tried
again, "We'd like to bury the baby by its mother in the small private
graveyard out behind the house. Amalie is buried there and there's a
beautiful angel statue that I think Amalie had put up in memory of her
husband. Would you be willing to officiate a small, informal service?"

	"I'd be honored," Bryan answered solemnly.

	"We'll let you know as soon as the baby is released back to us."

	The conversation turned to other, more general topics, but I
couldn't get my mind off the idea that Amalie's haunting days may not be
over with the discovery and reburial of her child.

* * *
	A week later a small group stood in a semi circle around the small
grave that had been dug next to Amalie's plot. The sky was appropriately
overcast, but for once the forecast wasn't calling for any rain. The somber
group included Adam, Steve, Kane, Micah, Judy, Bryan, Will, and I. Will had
had come along after hearing the whole story from Bryan, who he was
apparently getting closer to all the time. I wondered if he had taken my
advice and was making an attempt to move on with Bryan.

	The baby's remains had been turned over to Steve first thing Monday
morning. As Dr. Niemeyer had suspected, the bones were clearly not Native
American and were from the mid-nineteenth century. He said the baby, which
was a male, had only been about a couple months old.

	A tiny casket was already in the grave. A small headstone was going
to be installed in a few weeks. There would be no name on it since we
didn't even know his name. All it would say was "Here lies the son of
Amalie Marnien ^Ö Aged 1 month".

	The exquisitely carved angel statue stood over us, adding a touch
of dignity and mourning to the situation. Now that the vines had been
cleared away I could see that she was indeed quite beautiful, as Steve had
said. Her eyes were downcast in a reverential manner, her hands clasped in
front of her as if in prayer.

	Bryan cleared his throat and began to speak. "Life is a precious
gift that is given to each of us. What we do with that gift is left to each
individual, but until we are old enough to make those decisions for
ourselves, it is left in the stewardship of our parents.

	"This life that we are here today to honor was cut off far too
early. I'm sure the pain that this caused his mother was something only
another parent who has lost their child can understand." Adam sniffed a
little at that and I realized that he was crying. "While all of us can not
fully appreciate the loss, maybe we can understand the preciousness of a
gift that is taken away before we are ready. We can take comfort in the
thought that this innocent child went to be with his heavenly parent even
as he lost his earthly ones.

	"As I was trying to find something that I thought was appropriate
for a moment like this I ran across a poem that was written about the time
this child lived and died. It was written by a woman named Helen Hunt
Jackson, and standing here now looking at this beautiful angel statue, it
occurs to me that this poem is even more fitting than I even first
thought. Mrs. Jackson wrote,

"All lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us,
but only sleeping, Love.  At last.

	"This baby may have died too soon, but he is not dead, but in the
arms of the angels. May he rest in peace."

	In the silence I heard Judy whisper, "And his mother, too."

* * *
	We were leaving the grave site, Steve and Adam were filling in the
grave, when Will caught my arm and pulled me aside.

	"Can we talk for a second?" he asked.

	"Sure," I said.

	"I have a favor to ask, but first I want to know if you're ok?"

	"I'm fine," I told him. "Do you mean from the attack?"

	"Not exactly, I know you're ok from that. I meant, are you ok with
Asher leaving?"

	I blinked in surprise. I hadn't expected that. I hadn't talked to
anyone about his leaving and wasn't really ready to now. "Yeah, I'm
fine. He's going whether I'm ok or not so what difference does it make?"
That came out with more bitterness than I had intended.

	"Yeah, ok. None of my business, I guess."

	"It's not that, Will. You know that. It's just, with everything
going on; I haven't even had time to process it yet. I'm seeing Micah now,
so I guess it shouldn't bother me at all, but it does."

	"Just because you are dating someone else doesn't mean you stop
caring about people from your past. You helped me see that."

	"Are you dating Bryan now?" I asked, eager to change the subject.

	"We're not exactly dating, at least not yet. We're just good
friends for now. There's something I need to do before I'm ready to
date. That's what I wanted to ask you about."

	"What do you mean?"

	"I need to say goodbye."

	"To...?"

	"Aidan. I never got the chance, or I guess I had the chance, I just
wasn't ready to take it then."

	"I don't understand," I said, "I mean, I think it's great that you
want to move on, but what does that have to do with me?"

	"I want to say goodbye at his grave."

	"He's buried in Pennsylvania."

	"I know, in the town where your mom lives."

	I began to see where he was going with this. "And you want me to
drive up there with you," I finished.

	Will nodded.

	"Yeah, I'll do that." I told him. It was something I could do at
least, and I'd get to see my mom at the same time. "But we'll have to go
within the next week if you want to do it soon. I start college the week
after that."

	"That's fine. I can go anytime."

	"Ok, you just say when."

	"Let me talk to my mom and make sure she can take care of Darin
while I'm gone and I'll call you."

	"Ok."

	We started walking back towards the house where everyone else was
waiting.

	Suddenly Will stopped.

	"You know that painting I promised you for your 18th birthday?" he
asked.

	"Yeah?"

	"I just decided what I want to paint."

	"What?"

	"The angel."

	I thought about it for a minute and the line Bryan had quoted, "All
lost things are in the angels keeping." I'd lost a lot, friends, family,
boyfriends; it was comforting to think that everything I had lost was in
the angels keeping. I liked it. I nodded and slipped my arm through Will's
as we started walking again.

	"No past is dead for us, but only sleeping," I whispered. "At
last."

THE END

All Lost Things was the third book in the series. The second book, Reap the
Whirlwind, can be found in Nifty under college or on my website. If you
would like updates on when the next book is coming out and what it will be
about, sign on to my website and join the mailing list. The Bleeding Hearts
website has weekly columns, polls, news, an About the Author section and
much more. My first book in the series, Bleeding Hearts, was recently
published and is now available for sale at the website and various online
bookstores. Visit the site at http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts

A special thanks to everyone who has proofed my chapters along the way and
everyone who has written me with encouragement, criticism and comments. I
cherish every letter.

I have now begun work on a sequel to All Lost Things titled Truth of
Yesterday.  Look for it in the college section and on my website. If you
haven't visited my website, I encourage you to. As one of my readers put
it, it's not just a clothesline for my stories. It's also an ever-growing
community where everyone is included. Check it out!

http://www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts