THE GIFT


PART ONE:



A brisk October breeze ruffled the awning of the open-air cafe where Kwai Chang Caine sat, sipping his morning tea.
The air was crisp, a hint of the more brittle winter weather that would soon descend upon the city.

But the sun was brilliant and the day held much promise. He had visited several neighbors in Chinatown whose medical
conditions he had been following; all were doing well. Peter was healthy and fairly content with his work. Lo Si was, well, Lo Si,
the same as he had always been. Life was as it should be.

Caine sensed his son's presence a moment before he heard his footsteps approaching.

" 'Morning, Dad," Peter greeted him as he pulled out a chair. " Thought I'd find you here."

Caine bowed his head in greeting." It is good to see you. You were looking for me?"

" Just thought we could talk..I mean, if you have time."

" I have time. Is there a problem?"

" It's...not a problem, really. It's just..." he stopped, not quite sure how to verbalize his thoughts. His father waited
patiently for him to continue.

" It's about Mom; Annie, I mean." Peter sat back in his seat, comtemplating the autumn sky. " Her birthday is a couple
of days away."

"This poses a problem?"

"Yeah," Peter answered. "In a way. I've always given her pretty clothes or jewelry, things I thought she would like,
you know?" His father nodded.

" But, every year, I feel uncomfortable when she opens her gifts. Sometimes I spend hours picking out just the right
sweater or bracelet, but it doesn't really matter, because she can't see them."

Sadness tinged Peter's voice as he looked distantly down the noisy street.

" I wish I could give her a gift that would really mean something to her." He cast a hopeful glance his father's way.
"Any suggestions?"

Caine studied his son's profile. " It is not the gift, " he said, " but the sentiment behind it that makes the gift precious."

" I know... it's the thought that counts, and all that..."

" Exactly, " his father replied.

" It's just that," Peter searched for the right words, " She's done so much for me through the years, and I've done
so little for her."

" You have loved and respected her, as she has loved you. The fact that you remember her birthday and spend
part of it with her," Caine shrugged. "that is enough; she expects no more."

" I just feel like I owe her so much," he replied. " And she's had to work twice as hard to do the everyday things that you
and I take for granted."

" She is, indeed, a special person," Caine said.

" Yes, she is."

They sat for several moments in silence. Then Peter smiled as he rose from his chair.

" I guess you're right. I should stop worrying about the material world so much, about things that don't last, right?"

" When you can do that," Caine raised his tea again, " you will have learned an invaluable lesson."

" I'm working on it."




##########################################



Caine had much work to do; medicines that needed mixing, herbs that needed tending. His thoughts as he worked
returned again to Annie Blasdell.

He held a deep respect for the woman who had opened her heart to his son, had raised and protected him, and taught
him her philosophy of life in his absence. She and her husband had taken a troubled child and had patiently guided his way
to becoming a strong and compassionate man. She had taken the place of the mother he had never known. It had not been
an easy task.

Caine had often thought of what might have become of Peter, had she not been willing to shoulder the responsibility of
offering him a home, a family, another chance at a normal life. It would have been much easier to have used her blindness as
an excuse for not taking him in. But Annie did not believe in excuses. She believed in the power of love, and for that, Caine
would be eternally grateful.

As he packed up the herbs for the next day's visits, Caine considered the fact that he, too, would like to do something
special for Annie. Not a material gift, but something she could hold in her heart forever, something special. A token of thanks
for the gift she had held in trust for him, until he had returned to claim it.

The priest lit a single candle and sat before it; its faint light flickered on the shadowy walls as he meditated. Peter's
words of how Annie would never see the gifts she was given came back to him. That was when Caine realized what his birthday
gift to her would be.




PART TWO:




Annie was making a sandwich for her lunch when the doorbell rang. She wiped her hands and made her way to the front door.

" Caine, what a nice surprise, come in, come in," she opened the door and stepped back to allow him to enter.

A smile crossed Caine's face. " And how did you know today?"

" Well, let's see," she smiled as they entered the living room. " Today it's valerian root, mint and ginger tea, right?"

" You are correct. Your sense of smell is extraordinary."

" Comes in handy when dinner is burning, too." She led him to the sofa, where her expression suddenly turned serious.

" Everything's okay, isn't it? With Peter, I mean."

Caine was puzzled for a moment, then he understood.

" Ah, you mean the reason for my visit?" She nodded. " He is fine. I am here for another reason. Peter tells me tomorrow
is your birthday."

Annie's face broke into a embarassed smile. " I'm afraid so. I tried not having one this year, but Father Time insisted.
I guess I need to learn how to grow old gracefully."

" This you will do. There is much grace in your soul."

" But not in this body, I'm afraid. I still miss steps and bump into furniture sometimes."

" As we all do." They settled back into the comfortable sofa. " But you have not always been blind."

" No," she answered. " I lost my sight when I was very small. I can sense extremely bright light, but I don't see colors
or objects at all." Annie inclined her head, remembering. " I seem to recall something that may have been a face, my mother's
face, maybe. But it's been so long ago now that it's all pretty fuzzy."

" Does it disturb you to talk about your blindness?"

" Not at all. In fact," Annie said, " so many times people just ignore my condition. Makes me feel like they're ignoring
me, too. I'd rather just talk about it; it's not something that I try to hide. I've learned to live with it. I know I can't change it,
so I've had to accept it."

" Not everyone would be able to do so."

" You do what you have to do," she replied.

Caine reached out and took her hand. " I feel that I have not sufficiently thanked you for caring for my son those years
when I could not."

" You don't have to thank me. Peter was a ...challenge." she laughed softly and Caine did, as well.

" But he was also a great joy to us." Her smile faded slightly. " He took the place of the son that I was never able to give Paul."

Annie stopped, took in a breath and continued. " Paul loved Carolyn and Kelly with all his heart, but I knew back then
that Paul and I would not have children of our own. When Peter came along, there just seemed to be a place for him here, in
our home and in our hearts." She reached up to brush a tear away from behind her dark glasses. " I'm so proud of all of them.
So was Paul."

" As you should be," Caine said. " The love and guidance in this home has been a strong influence in their lives."

He reached over and held her shaking hands in his.

" I think it is...time...that you saw ...here" he touched her temple, " what you feel here..." he raised her hand and
placed it over her heart.

" I don't know what you mean," Annie said in a choked voice.

" I would like to show you...if you will allow me."




PART THREE:


The two of them sat down on the floor, facing each other. Annie placed her hands in Caine's.

" Do not be afraid," he reassured her.

" I'm not. Well, not much." Annie remembered bits of stories from Peter about his father's astral projection trips,
or whatever the Shaolin called it. All she knew was that she was way out of her league here. But she trusted the priest,
so she took a deep breath and straightened her back, waiting.

" I will be linking your chi to mine. For a short while, you will be...in my mind, in a manner of speaking." Caine
told her.

" Don't I need some special abilities or training to do something like this?" she asked doubtfully.

" I will be doing all the work." he replied.

" And then, what happens?"

" You will see."




#######################################



Annie followed Caine's instructions to breathe deeply, relax and close her eyes. Their hands were tightly
clasped together; Caine had instructed her not to release her grip. After a few minutes, she realized that her ears were
buzzing and she felt a sensation of calm and serenity float into her mind.

She heard his voice in her right ear: "Open your eyes."

She did as she was asked, and the sensations that bombarded her senses almost took her breath away.

"Do not try to...absorb it all at once," Caine said softly. "Give yourself time to adjust."

There was light,and soft clouds of fog that floated through the air and settled at her feet. Annie gasped as she
realized...she could see it. The light, the fog, and the figure of a man standing next to her. She could see it all.

" Wh..where are we?" she whispered.

" You are...in a place I have created for you... in my mind. Is the light too bright?"

" No, it's..." there were no words to describe her feelings. She looked over at the priest, touched his face.

" So this is what you look like?" she smiled.

" Yes."

Annie glanced around their mist enshrouded surroundings. " How are you doing this?" she asked. " You haven't
restored my vision."

" No, it is not in my power to do so," Caine answered. " You are seeing through my eyes, what I have seen."

" You can do that?" she asked in wonder.

" Only for a short time. I wished for you to see what you have always longed to see, but thought you never would."

" So, what do I do now?"

" Simply look into the mist."




PART FOUR:




Annie turned to face a dense wall of fog in front of them. The wisps of mist began to shift, to move together
until faint shapes were perceptible through the haze.

" What am I seeing?"

" You are seeing my memories."

Annie turned her head suddenly. " I don't think I should...."

" These are memories I have selected to share with you. It is not an invasion of my private thoughts. And, besides,"
he smiled and shrugged, " this was my idea."

Annie turned back to the scene forming in front of her. The vision was clearer now. She saw two young women
laughing, teasing each other. The younger of the two wore a bridesmaid's dress, the older one an exquisite bridal gown.
They were in a large room, with a party of some kind going on behind them.

" These are your daughters," Caine said softly.

" At the wedding..." Annie's voice caught in her throat. " In the ballroom."

" Yes."

Tears slipped down Annie's cheeks. " They are so beautiful." She took a step forward, but Caine's grip pulled her back.

" You must not let go of my hand, Annie."

" I'm sorry. They just look so real. But they're not really there, are they?"

" No, they are not."

Annie smiled at him through her tears. " I almost forgot where I was."

" That is understandable."

As Annie turned back to the mist, the scene changed. The ballroom was replaced by a maelstrom of sounds;
raised voices, doors closing and phones ringing. Even through the mist, the noise was jarring to the nerves.

" I know where this is," she announced. " I've heard this level of noise many times."

Her voice faded away as she singled out the profile of a young,dark-haired detective, working at his computer.

Annie exhaled slowly and squeezed Caine's hand.

" That's Peter, isn't it?" she whispered. Caine nodded.

For a long moment, she stood entranced, overwhelmed by her emotions. Her vision blurred as she observed her son
at work. Annie took in every detail of his appearance, committed the moment to her memory. She glanced over at his
father. " He's so handsome."

" He takes after his mother," he said with a smile.

" He has your eyes, though. And your good soul."

" Perhaps."

Annie's eyes were drawn back to the vision of her foster son. She was trying desperately to memorize each
feature, each expression of these young people whom she loved so dearly. These were moments that would be locked in
her memory, in her heart, for the rest of her days.

She turned to Caine, knowing that their time there was growing short. " You have no idea what a wonderful birthday
gift this has been to me. I will never forget it." Tears brimmed in her eyes once again.

" We are not...finished. There is one more." Caine turned her gently back to view the squadroom scene once more.

Annie saw Peter turn and make an inaudible comment to someone behind him. The person he spoke to stopped
beside Peter's desk. His voice rang out clearly through the mist. Annie gasped and her free hand flew to her lips.

" Paul...." No other words were possible for her, as she saw for the first time the man she loved so dearly,
and the tears flowed again.

" I did not know," Caine said in her ear, " if I should show you this. I know his absence is painful for you still.
But I felt that you would also want the opportunity to know his appearance as well. I hope I have not upset you."

Annie's eyes were locked on the features of her husband. " Oh, no, you've not upset me at all," she said as the
images of her husband and son faded into the mist. " I have more to remember him by now." She turned tear-filled eyes
toward the priest.

" It's time to go."

" Yes."

Annie closed her eyes again. She was aware of the solid grip of Caine's hands on hers, and then, suddenly,
she was returned to her own consciousness with a force that took her breath.

She slowly opened her eyes and saw...nothing. No light, no shapes, no mist. She was back in her own world,
and yet, it didn't seem as gray, as lifeless as it had before.

" Caine?" she reached out her hand to find him.

" I am here. You are alright?"

" I feel," she searched for the words, " I feel ...reborn."

Caine nodded. " A worthwhile reason to celebrate a birthday, don't you think?"




CONCLUSION:


The noise level in the Blasdell home had almost reached that of the precinct squadroom, or so it seemed to Caine
as he sat quietly in one corner of the living room. One of Annie's favorite jazz albums was playing on the stereo,
Carolyn's baby was fussing noisily in her father's arms. Peter and his foster sisters were trying to top each other
with stories of their sibling rivalries. Wine glasses clinked and wrapping paper crackled as Annie unwrapped her presents.

Peter came over and sat down next to her.

" You scored some pretty good stuff here," he joked.

" Yes, I certainly did. Did I say thank you?"

" About a dozen times." He started to gather up the discarded paper.

" Is your father still here?" She asked.

Peter glanced over at Caine, who was engaged in conversation with Carolyn's husband. " Yes, he's still here."

Annie paused, lost in her thoughts. Peter noticed her faraway expression. "Mom?"

" Oh, sorry. What is it?" She turned her thoughts back to the present, to her son.

" Everything okay?" he asked.

" Everything's just perfect. I'm so glad that you're all here today."

" Where else would we be?" Peter placed a kiss on her cheek.

" You father gave me a gift, too. Did he tell you?" she asked softly, for his ears only.

" Really? No, he didn't mention it." He saw his father look in their direction.

" What did he give you? I'd like to see it."

Annie smiled and turned toward the corner where Caine sat, watching them. Peter could have sworn she knew
exactly where he was at the other end of the room.

" Oh, you can't see it, Peter," she said with a contented smile. " But I can."




...the end...