Daddy's Little Angel

"Such a beautiful sunset, don't you think, Dave?"

As the sun slowly fell behind the jagged peaks that framed the horizon across the lake, the mountains appeared silhouetted in light; a kaleidoscope of living colors refracted off of the ice and snow.

The serene waters mirrored the landscape with such undisturbed clarity that earth and sky appeared indistinguishable. Only the occasional ripple interrupted the living portrait, as gentle breezes caressed the surface.

The light of distant stars began to sneak through the darkest parts of the sky as it faded from blue to red.

Dave looked up at Sean for a moment, but quickly averted his gaze.

"I know, I know," started Sean, as he tossed another dry log onto the fire, "this isn't really your thing."

Glowing embers burst out of the rising flames as the burning pieces of wood shifted to accommodate Sean's addition; some extinguishing mid air, and others landing on the stones surrounding the freshly roaring camp fire.

"But I appreciate you coming up here with me."

"My father used to bring me up here," he continued, "I can't even remember the first time. I must have been about three or four."

"'Teach a man to fish,' he used to say," he said smiling as he reminisced. "He didn't like the whole, 'feed him for a lifetime' part. He always said he couldn't survive too long without a good t-bone steak."

The crackling and popping sounds of the fire reverberated off of the lake. As Sean looked out in the distance he caught a glimpse of an eagle soaring toward one of the foothills to the west.

He recalled how he and his father had seen one on one of their fishing trips. His old man had put his hand on his shoulder and said something that had stuck with him ever since that day.

"Son, some things are just too beautiful to kill."

He watched it until it had flown out of sight, knowing how privileged he was to see such majesty in its purest form.

"Those were good times, Dave."

He smiled and chuckled out loud.

"There was this one time, back when I was sixteen," he said laughing and shaking his head, "I forgot to put the bait in the truck before we left out and we didn't even realize it until we had already pitched the tent."

"Pop didn't even bat an eye, 'Well,' he says, 'sometimes it's best not to open a can of worms.'"

"We ended up just roasting marshmallows and wieners for the next two days. We shared a few cold ones and talked more that weekend than we ever had before. From that day on he wasn't just my old man. He was my best friend."

"'What happens at the lake stays at the lake,' he said when mom asked us if we had a good time."

"'Best trip yet, mom!' I'd said, keeping the whole beer with dad thing to myself."

"Good times, man, good times."

He leaned back in his folding chair, admiring the night sky. There was only a faint hint of fading sunlight peering over the distant peaks. Straight overhead countless stars pierced the black veil of space, bathing the treetops in living light.

"God," he mused, "A man could die happy after a night like this."

Again he stirred the fire, inspiring a cacophonous outburst of cracks and pops; tiny explosions, breathing life into dying flames.

The last light of day had faded behind the horizon. Myriad stars in all of their luminous glory pierced through the black canvas of heaven. Not even the glow of the freshly revived flames could conceal their brightness.

"Look Dave, over there," Sean started, "a shooting star!"

He chuckled remembering how his father had elaborated, at great length, on the irony of making a wish after watching something burn up in the atmosphere.

"I know it's stupid," he said, smiling almost timidly and shaking his head, "but it's fun to dream, you know?"

He leaned forward in his chair, arms folded over his knees.

"I made the same wish every time I saw one. I wished that some day I would be able to come back here with a son of my own."

Resting his chin on his fist he breathed out a long melancholy sigh.

"But you know as well as I do that life sometimes doesn't turn out the way you want it to."

Dave looked at him momentarily but quickly returned his gaze to the fire.

Sean continued, "I've never told anyone this, but Lissie and I tried to have kids for almost ten years before she got sick."

"It wasn't for lack of trying, either," he said emphatically, "that girl used to wear me out!"

Dave shifted uncomfortably.

"TMI?" Sean continued with a half-cocked smile. "What can I say? I was young too at one point, and so was she."

"We had names picked out, schools, even a college fund, but all of our hopes died out when Lissie's health went downhill. Ovarian cancer."

He picked up a stick from the ground by his feet and threw it in the fire.

"Her surgery and treatments wiped us out. When our savings ran dry we had to sell the house and one of the cars. We found a cheap apartment in a neighborhood close to her hospital. I ended up working as a contractor so I could earn enough to make ends meet and still be with her when she needed me most."

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as he slumped back in his chair.

"Man, it was hell."

"The thing is," he continued, sitting up again and facing Dave, "she always kept a smile on her face, always tried to keep me cheered up. The only time she ever really cried was when the doctors told her that she would have to undergo a hysterectomy."

"Goddamn cancer," he muttered as he threw another stick at the fire.

He watched the fire slowly overtake the newly added kindling. He had always found it mesmerizing; so deadly and destructive, yet so essential to the preservation of life. A force to be reckoned with; just like Lissie.

"It was that positive attitude of hers that got both of us through the darkest of times. That stubborn girl," he shook his head, "nothing could stop her. She faced death head on and told it to take a hike."

"As soon as she was able to work again she went right back to it, and soon enough we had more in our savings account than we ever had before. We had learned to live without a lot of things so it was all gravy."

Again, he leaned back in his chair, looking up at the sky.

"I remember the day she suggested that we adopt. It was the morning of the 10th of August, 1993; my birthday. She had set up an appointment with a counselor for that day. She was so excited that I couldn't dare let her down, even though I had all but given up on having kids."

"Hell, man, I was already pushing forty!"

"For the next two years we learned the hard way that we couldn't just pick and choose whatever we wanted out of some kid catalog. Doors kept closing for us left and right; it looked like we'd never be able to adopt a baby, boy or girl. I almost gave up, man."

He stood up and stretched, arms open wide, embracing the night sky.

"Beer?"

Dave looked at him for a moment, but quickly averted his gaze.

"Your loss, man."

Sean walked over to the edge of the lake and crouched down near a grouping of large stones. Pulling up his sleeve he reached into the frigid water and fished up a couple of Heinekens he had left there to chill.

"You sure?" he asked, holding one out to Dave who didn't look up.

"More for me then," he said, as he slumped back down in his chair, setting Dave's beer down on the ground beside him.

"Not very talkative, eh?" he continued. "Well, I do appreciate you listening. It means a lot."

He popped the top off of his beer and took a nice, long sip.

"Damn, that's good!"

He hadn't meant it as a taunt, but he smiled and chuckled to himself at how timely and appropriate it had been.

"Now where were we?"

He rubbed his chin pensively.

"Oh, yeah, adoption."

He sat back and continued.

"The agency called us in September of '95. Our case worker had a child she wanted us to meet. She told us she knew that we wanted a boy, but that she wanted us to trust her and just show up."

"On our way to the agency's office we stopped at a toy store so we could pick up a gift. We looked around for a bit but nothing really stuck out until Lissie spotted a sad little pink stuffed bear on the sale rack. It had a t-shirt on it with a picture of musical notes. I thought it was goofy looking, but she had to have it."

"When we got to the office our caseworker met us at the front desk. She did her best to convince us to keep an open mind about meeting a five year old girl, but also warned us that we should not go through with it unless we were certain that we were ready to change our plans."

"The look on Lissie's face was priceless. She had wanted a girl all along, but had kept it to herself knowing how much I wanted a son. All I wanted was for her to be happy."

"It was a no-brainer."

"The caseworker led us to one of their playrooms and walked us inside. There, sitting at the table, coloring her heart out, was the most adorable little Asian girl I had ever seen."

"As soon as she noticed us she set her crayon down neatly and got up from the table. She walked right up to my wife, looked her straight in the eyes, and, with the cutest smile either of us had ever seen, said, 'Hi, I'm Melody. You must be Alyssa.'"

"It was love at first sight. She and Lissie were instant best friends. They played, they sang, they told each other stories, and the whole time all I could do was sit there holding the gift bag and watch them as they bonded. It was the happiest I had ever seen my wife. She didn't want to leave, and frankly neither did I."

"When it was time to leave Melody held her hand all the way to the door and would not let go. Lissie hugged her as if their lives depended on it. I'll never forget what she said to the little angel as she handed her that funny looking stuffed bear, 'I was thinking about you before I met you. I was going to call her Melody.'"

"I've never seen a kid smile so big man," he said shaking his head and smiling. "You would have thought the thing was a gift from God."

"It took a while to get everything in order. Her birth mother died of an overdose shortly after giving up her parental rights but it took a while to get through all of the red tape. The adoption was finalized on Melody's seventh birthday."

He paused, again looking up at the stars and admiring their beauty.

"That little girl, man," he continued, "she was just amazing. Everywhere she went she brought love and happiness and joy. Even when my dad passed back in March of '01, she knew how much I loved to come up here every summer, and told me that I shouldn't cancel my plans."

"She came with me, Dave, and every year after that."

"My angel."

He smiled the way only a proud father can and sipped at his beer.

After a few quiet moments he sat down his beer and turned to face Dave.

"See man," he began in a somber tone, "here's what I don't understand. How can a grown man look at a child, an innocent little girl, and even consider doing anything to hurt her?"

"I mean," he continued, his voice raising in intensity, "how can an adult justify abusing an innocent little girl?"

He stood up and began to walk toward Dave.

"How can an adult become aroused at the sight of a child?"

He bared his teeth at Dave, his voice almost in a roar.

"Tell me Dave, what makes a man rape and kill an innocent little girl?"

He leaned over Dave and wrapped his left hand around his throat and squeezed as hard as he could. With his right he ripped the duct tape off of his mouth, tearing away chunks of his facial hair.

Dave opened his mouth to scream but the pressure on his throat kept him from uttering a sound. He was bound and propped up against a log, naked, and shivering from the cold night air.

Sean pulled his hunting knife out of its sheath and pressed the razor sharp tip of the blade against Dave's abdomen. He looked him straight in the eyes, and with a ferocity that would send a chill down the devil's spine, growled, "Tell me!"

Dave's mouth moved but again no sound issued forth. He began to weep and shake uncontrollably. He winced in agony as the blade pierced his skin.

Sean roared, "David Lee Shackleford, why should I let you live?"

He loosened his grip on Dave's throat just enough to allow him to whisper.

"I never touched your daughter," he whimpered in a barely audible rasp.

Sean's hand clamped down on his throat like a vice. Dave tried in vain to scream as Sean thrust his knife through his rolls of fat and into his side. Blood gushed out onto Sean's hand, covering Dave's legs and drenching the dry ground surrounding the fire.

Slowly Sean dragged the blade across Dave's mid section, tearing him wide open and causing his intestines to spill out onto his lap. The stench of bile and partially digested food filled the air. With a final thrust, Sean twisted the blade and buried it in his stomach. As he did he leaned in to whisper in Dave's ear.

"I never said you did."