Confronting the Fallen Read Online Free Page B

he'd say. Then Chris smiled. He could almost
hear Mom's whisper, after Dad had had his say. She'd wink and say
quietly 'And always trust in yourself, Chris'.
    Chris left some money on the table, stood up,
nodded to the waitress and left the restaurant. He took a deep
breath. Okay, folks. Time to trust in both, I guess.
    He watched the cars passing by. And then it hit
him; the solution. He pulled back into the doorway of the restaurant
and counted his money. Better find a bank machine, just in case, he
thought. And he set off down the street, keeping a eye out as he
went.
    * * *
    A group of tourists milled around the fountain
directly in front of the Peace Tower. One of them would occasionally
glance at the well dressed man loitering near the edge of the pool,
staring into the flame that danced in the middle of the gushing
water.
    Judge Hawkes glanced up at the clock on the Peace
Tower. The large hands indicated that it was thirteen minutes past
five o’clock. He sighed and glanced once again at the eternal
flame floating almost magically above the water. The seconds ticked
away and suddenly the bells in the tower chimed once to mark the
quarter of the hour.
    The judge turned away slowly from the fountain
toward the street. “Ah well...” he muttered.
    As he began to walk, a shout rang out through the
crowd of tourists and the man spun quickly to his left. A boy was
running toward him, leather jacket hanging off of his arms. He
stopped in front of the judge and bent over with his hands on his
knees, gasping for breath.
    Chris took a moment to catch his breath then
looked up at the judge, who was smiling in seeming delight. “I...I
made it,” Chris panted. The judge's smile widened.
    “Indeed you did, Christopher. And in the
nick of time too, Well done, young man, well done!”
    The judge stepped back to the fountain and sat
down on its edge. He motioned for Chris to do the same. “Catch
your breath, Christopher. We'll talk in a moment.”
    Chris sat down gratefully and wiped the sweat from
his eyes with his sleeve. He breathed deeply for a few moments, took
off his jacket to cool down and took the opportunity to look around
at Parliament Hill.
    There were dozens of people coming and going,
taking pictures of the tower and the fountain. Hardly anyone glanced
at the two of them sitting there, even though the sight of a man like
the judge, who was wearing an impeccable suit, sitting on the side of
a fountain with a sweaty kid in jeans and t-shirt must have seemed a
bit odd.
    He wondered why there were so many people milling
around. What day was it anyway? Saturday maybe? Chris had no idea. He
knew it was early May but that was about it.
    Once he had caught his breath, Chris glanced at
the judge, who smiled slightly.
    “Can you speak comfortably now,
Christopher?” the man asked.
    Chris nodded and the judge continued. “Good.
We don't have time now for a full accounting of your journey here,
but I'm eager to hear about it. Right now, we have to get you
somewhere safe.” He stood up. “So, if you'd like to
follow me, we'll be off.”
    Chris stood up. He was a little confused. “You
mean we aren't safe here, sir? We're in the middle of a crowd on
Parliament Hill!”
    The judge gave a soft laugh at Chris' tone.
“Crowds are not as safe as some people believe, young man.
People can get close to you in crowds, overhear conversations, even
do you harm and slip away unnoticed.” He looked around at the
flocks of tourists. “No, crowds aren't really very safe at all.
So please follow me, Christopher.”
    The judge set off toward the street that passed to
the south of the hill. Chris grabbed his jacket and followed him
closely, watching the crowd nervously. He didn't see anyone with a
tattoo on their cheek but it was hard to make out faces in the many
groups of people around them.
    As they approached the curb, a long black
limousine pulled up in front of them. A man wearing a dark blue suit
jumped out of the driver's seat,