Angel Be Good by Kathy Carmichael

watched the prelude to his own death.
The monitor showed the 49th Street Bridge again, a crisp rainy
night. Below the bridge was a flicker of firelight and the focus
closed in on it.
    The father was there as before, cooking
something over the fire, but his face looked closed, drawn, even
thinner than before. A small hand reached out to stroke the
father's craggy face. Nat saw the little girl, Sue.
    "It smells good, Poppa."
    The father nodded at her and poked at the
embers. The view widened. The two were there alone. Where was the
mother? Where was Harry, the little boy?
    The girl pulled a dirty envelope from under
her sweater and tentatively offered it to her father.
    The man's lips quivered but he took the
envelope and slit it open with his finger. Nat watched the man's
hand shake wildly as he pulled out a magazine clipping. It was the
picture of a well-dressed man in a business suit.
    The father coughed, trying to work up
enthusiasm for the girl's gift, but the coughing filled his chest
and lungs.
    The girl wrapped her arms around him. "Time
for more medicine, Poppa. Where is it?"
    He gestured toward his upper pocket. She
pulled a bottle from beneath the layers of grimy clothing and
uncorked it, then held it to her father's lips.
    He took a long swig. "I'm better now, Sue.
You've given me a fine gift. I'll dream well tonight."
    "I know you will, Poppa. Here, now," she
pulled his head into her lap. "Close your eyes and rest. We'll
dream together."
    He reached up and patted her cheek. "We'll
dream of last Christmas and how we were still all together. We'll
dream of your Momma and Harry. We'll dream of our family."
    Nat felt tears spilling from his eyes and he
didn't care. Somehow, this family had broken through the ice
contracting his heart. He'd genuinely cared for them and how they'd
had their dreams and love. Now it was shattered. He had to do
something. There had to be a way to change destiny. Looking up, he
saw that Daphne had taken a seat on his desk top, her face buried
in her hands.
    His jaw clenched. "I promise you, Daph, this
won't happen. This is something I know I can change."
    "I'm not so certain you can."
    "At the very least, I can make sure they
aren't living under a bridge, that they're well fed and dressed. I
may not be able to do much else, but that I can do." He ran his
hand through her dark curls. "And, if I can change that, it means
that everything is subject to change. Think it through logically
and you'll see I'm right."
    She removed her hands and lifted her tear
ravaged face. "Do it now, Nat. Do it now."
    He grabbed the telephone receiver, intending
to do exactly as she directed, then grimaced. The line remained
dead. "No dial tone."
    She jumped off the desk and grabbed his arm.
"There's got to be a phone somewhere in this building that works. I
intend to find it."
    "Wait, Daphne." He pointed at the computer
which was alive with visions of Christmas in the city, life
continuing as before. "There appears to be more."
    Her lips tightened, but she nodded. "We'll
do it as soon as this is over. Promise?"
    "I promise, Daphne. I'll note it in my
planner and no matter what, I'll take care of that family."
    She smiled and flung her arms around his
neck. "I trust you to keep your word. Thank you."
    Her words bit into his conscience. She
trusted him. Watching her settle back onto his desktop, he saw
emotions skitter across her face. She was so obvious, nothing
hidden or secretive about her.
    A chink appeared in the chain around his
chest, a link parted, fell away. Nat felt it as surely as if he'd
been plunged into an ocean of freezing water. Something happened
inside him. An opening. An awareness.
    Another link fell, and then another. Aware
the future was being revealed on the monitor, aware he was missing
it and whatever messages heaven intended for him, he still couldn't
tear his gaze away from Daphne's dear face.
    Then it hit him with all the clarity of a
knife puncturing his chest. He did believe. Good