Based on stories by Brian Eirik Coe, used with his permission
"Momma! Where we gonna stay tonight?" said the little son Albert.
"Yeah, Mom. Where?" asked older daughter Ellen.
"I don't know. But we'll find a place." The life of a homeless person is one of endless wandering. Even moreso if one has a family to take care of. Which is where the problem was. All the shelters were full. All of them. It was supposed to be cold tonight. Very cold.
It was getting late, perhaps nine o'clock. But all the other spots she knew were taken. So her kids and she were on their way to this alley she knew that might be free. With luck, no one else knew about it. It was their best bet. At least that last shelter had given them a hot meal before they'd had to leave.
They passed by a travel agency, and stopped to look at the many posters that they could see in the dim security lights. "Visit Alaska!" one announced. Another, "See the Sights of Vancouver, Canada." Boy did the she want to. She had never even been outside this city in her forty years of life. But the Northwest wilderness held some kind of allure for her that she couldn't put words to. One of her ambitions was to eventually go and live there with a job, a car, and kids in school.
She sighed once more at the loss of their futures. She worried for her kids as she always does, her thoughts of selfishness dissolving as Albert announced "I have to go to the bathroom!" And she sighed. Lucky she knew a place that wouldn't stink up the neighborhood (a public toilet, in fact.)
They found the chosen alley corner and settled in for the night as best they could. She brought in as many newspapers as possible, but it wasn't enough. Never enough. The cold penetrated her to the very bones. Her kids were shivering hard, and in that moment she knew… she knew she had made a mistake. A big mistake. She pulled both of them close to her, in hope of giving some of her own warmth to them.
They eventually fell asleep. And it was sleep, not cold. She still lay awake for a moment. In this dark alley, the stars were bright even over the city lights. She saw the Big Dipper, the and unconsciously followed the two pointer stars to the North Star. She locked her gaze on that one, little point of light, huddled her kids closer to her body, and fell into a dreamless slumber…
Caught in that strange moment between sleep and wakefulness, a gentle voice spoke to her. "It's not your fault," it said. "You have only been homeless since the summer. You couldn't have known."
It was one of those feelings. It could be a voice in a dream, it could be in real life. She could not be sure. But she responded anyway, "I've failed. We're going to die, aren't we? My husband said I was a bad mother. I think he was right, I should have died in that car crash, instead of staying at that party just a little bit longer."
"You knew he was too drunk to drive. He slipped out before you knew he was gone. You knew to stay. If you had not… The possibilities left little hope for your children. You gave them another chance."
"A chance that I squandered! I should have looked at that
fool's will closer! Else we wouldn't be out on these frozen streets
now, about to die from hypothermia." The breaths of her
kids were slow and weak.
The cold was killing them. As it was her. She knew it, he knew it. But why wasn't he doing anything? Then she knew, suddenly. He wasn't here to save them really. But for some other reason. A reason that was both compelling and frightening.
"You're wrong. Who was it that found the shelter that gave the meal? You. Who was it that managed to get enough money to get better, newer clothes for your children? You. You are a better parent than you think."
"But it's all for nothing. They will find our frozen bodies, we will have our fifteen minutes of posthumous fame, and I will join my husband in Hell."
She opened an eye and saw the man. He seemed to be wearing a dark cloak, and a fedora with two feathers in it. One dove, and one falcon. His face was lined with the evidence of many years… decades… or perhaps longer… of travel. He had seen the world, she had seen nothing. "Do not cheapen yourself. For all your hardship, have you ever given up? Ever? No. You struggled through High School, went to college, struggled there and almost went to grad school. Even your choice of husband did not stop you. You provided for your two children, never thinking about yourself. You have a special gift. Do not deny it."
"But I have failed," she repeated. "All they will find is three frozen corpses… But may I ask, why are you here?"
He sighed, and looked at his shoes. "Because I cannot bear to see suffering to those who do not deserve it. But I know you. You do not accept charity very well."
"So why are you here?" She repeated.
"Because you are special. People like you and your children are too rare in this world. This is why I am here. I cannot let you or your children pass into oblivion. The possibilities are wrong this night. But then, random chance has always been a part of life."
She had a feeling, she knew he was not going to take them to a shelter per se, but someplace else. "Why are you here?" she repeated once more.
"I have yet to answer that question myself. But I am going to do something I rarely do. Give a choice. I have something in mind for the three of you. Only you have the ability to make this choice. But you need to know. Your lives have ended this night, but there is a possibility for something wonderful. You must make the choice." His voice was pained.
The cold. It bored into her bones and even more into her children. They weren't going to last another five minutes. But she still thought a moment.
What was there to lose, after all? Nothing, really. They had lost everything when the old in-laws had taken the house and thrown them out. She had no siblings or relatives. Otherwise they'd not be out on the street. So this was her choice. Give up, or let the man take them who-knows-where.
But was the second choice right for her kids? What kind of life would they have? The question answered itself: what could be worse than freezing to death? It was tantamount to giving up. She was always the fighter, always the last one to crumble even when the situation was hopeless.
She took one last deep breath, hugged her two children one last time. "Take us."
Caught between sleep and wakefulness, the world changed. She felt… different. But she also felt the presence of her children beside her. They had changed as well. One eye saw something she had always wanted to see. ["Alaska,"] She said in a language she had never known before, and was suddenly fully awake.
She knew what they were. One eye saw the coast, a large glacier suddenly calved a large iceberg into the dark blue waters, making a sound that she could almost see. The other eye saw a medium sized boat in the water about a hundred yards off. She moved her big head enough to see Albert's distinctive high, triangular dorsal fin and Ellen's shorter, curved one.
She'd always liked Orcas. Her kids started to stir.
[[This is your second chance.]] said the familiar, kind voice in her head. [[You no longer have to worry about a roof over your head. Food is abundant in these waters. And most of all, you live by your wits. Enjoy.]]
She knew. She knew very well, she could see schools of fish swimming around with her new echolocator sense. Then Albert awoke. [[Momma! Is that you? Is this me?]] he clicked. Then she had other things on her mind.
He stood on the port side of the Prince William Sound Whalewatching Company's largest boat, Carpathia, and watched with the rest of those on board. They could not see him. But they moved around him.
"Off the port side," the announcer said through a clear loudspeaker. "We have three killer whales, a mother and two calves and… WOW look at them breach!" The three were throwing themselves out of the water in amazement and joy.
The man in the dark cloak allowed himself one smile, briefly took off his hat and dusted off the sea salt that had gathered there, and quietly vanished.