Caleb sat the iPad on the counter.  He hated failure, but he felt safe admitting this truth to Rachel.

“The Conclave is going to revoke Ona’s project.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide with shock.  Her words burst forth like misguided rocks pelleting an object.  Her thoughts were all over the place.

“Wait.  What did you say?  Revoked?  But...can they do that? I mean...she will do her project because she’s been working on it.  Surely they have to understand--for goodness sake, she was in an accident--and she almost loss her spleen.  Do they know that?  Are they aware of her injuries--and how far she’s come in her recovery?”

Caleb raised his hand to slow her down.  She was shooting questions at a rate of one per second.

“Rachel...the council knows about my sister.  Remember what happened on the day of her arrival.”

Rachel slowed her breaths, recalling that day.  She’d not been in the hospital, but on her shift, she’d been given the amended version; and it had not been pretty.  She wondered if On was being punished because she’d been cared for in a hospital that wasn’t a Samaritan hospital.  If that was true, that kind of behavior would go against everything she’d learned about this Sect.  They were kind people and she couldn’t imagine them punishing Ona for something that was outside of her hands.

“Rachel...I hate to say this...but it’s over.”

Caleb was stepping away from the nurses station, when Rachel hurriedly said...

“It can’t be over.”

He stared at her with pitiful eyes.

“Look...my sister needs a working plan, in action no later than the end of this week.  And I don’t mean a plan on paper.  I need--singers, artist, a place to house them...”

Caleb scratched his head, messing up his disheveled hair.  He felt so defeated, when he turned to face Rachel, the image elicited an immediate impression.  Seeing him this way; if he would have allowed it, she would wrap her arms around him, embracing him a big bear hug.

Caleb lifted his head and when he looked at her, he saw her pained expression.  He forced a smile when he said...

“Don’t worry.  Ona will be disappointed but...when she’s well enough, she’ll join me, when we meet our parents in the Congo.”

Rachel shook her head, while saying...

“That won’t be necessary.”

She grinned...

“If that Conclave of yours wants to see a plan in action--then, they won’t have to wait until the end of the week.”

“I don’t understand.”

Caleb stepped closer.  Rachel had come from behind the nurses station and they were standing only a few feet from each other.  She beamed him with one of her knockout smiles when she said...

“While you were off doing your stuff--we’ve been brainstorming here at the hospital.”

Caleb felt a ray of hope.  He stepped so close, that Rachel thought that he just might kiss her.

“What has Ona done?”  he asked.

“She put me in charge of finding people to help get the ball rolling.”

“You know these people--artist, painters, singers...”

She nodded, then she giggled.

“My roommate is one of the most talented musician’s in the city.  She attended Juilliard--and her brother is Judd Marko.”

Caleb could not believe his luck.  All day, he’d felt like he’d failed every member of his family.  He’d been informed by the council to notify his parents, and request them to return.  He’d been told that the only way to save Ona’s project; her parents would have to assume control.  This was impossible because his parents were elbow deep in mud, building a school from the ground up.  The idea of asking his parents to return home because he’d failed; the thought had weakened his stomach, making him feel ill all day.  Now, knowing that there was another solution; Caleb’s behavior leapt back into his past.  He felt like a little boy, recalling the first time he’d rode in his father’s private jet.  He set aside every thread of decorum practiced as a Samaritan.  Caleb lifted Rachel into his arms; he turned, and twirled with her, leaving Rachel with only one choice.  She held on for dear life.

Caleb sealed his lips on the soft warmth of her face.  He kissed her cheek, and this contact jolted him back to the present.  He was thirty years old, unmarried; with no woman on his radar.  He’d accepted his lot, and much of his resolve was that he was a deeply scared and confused man.  But for a few seconds, he’d felt a release; a sense of something other than his Samaritan self.

Caleb lowered Rachel slowly to the floor.  She was laughing, and it was clear that his impetuous behavior had not made her feel uncomfortable.

Rachel was a little unsteady from the spin.  She grinned, then she said...

“This is going to be so good.  Just leave it to me.  I know a lot of people Caleb.  And my friends--well, they know a lot of people too.  And I feel comfortable saying that they will all want to help.”

Rachel palmed her phone, while she talked.  She was in her element; sending off a group text message.

“Let me see...  I might know of a choir director...”

She was talking to herself, and Caleb knew this because now, she was seated at her desk.  He didn’t know what she was doing, and at this point; he really didn’t care.  Someone was helping him.  This beautiful creature, whose flesh felt like soft velvet.  He stepped away from the desk, because these were feelings that he shouldn’t entertain.  Now, he began noticing her cologne, and the aroma was like a beacon.  What was happening to him.  He couldn’t rightly say, then he imagined, that perhaps the strain of the day had overwrote every other thought; and now, he was finally thinking clearly.  But if that were true--that would mean...  That would mean, that...  Caleb wouldn’t dare finish that thought.

As he neared Ona’s room, he heard voices.  One male voice...and Ona’s voice.  He wondered who she was talking to.  Dr. Norma spoke with an accent and although this person’s diction was precise and possessed a blue blood educated quality; the longer he strained to listen, there was something familiar about this voice

Caleb knocked before entering.  Ona’s expression betrayed her.  She was shocked because she had not expected him to return today but after talking to Rachel, she wanted to share her good news.

“Caleb... You’ll never guess what happened.  Mr. Delors and Rachel have offered to help me carryout my project.  Rachel knows people who are artist and singers and Lucien has been so kind--he wants to house my program in one of his warehouses near the dock.  Isn’t that wonderful?”

Ona was overjoyed and she wanted to share her jubilation with her brother.  She was preparing the words to say, when Rachel dashed into the room, practically tripping over her own feet.  Her lips were preparing to say something when Lucien held up his hand...

“Rachel... Ona was just telling her brother about our discussion.”

“Oh...I...”  This was more than a discussion but for now, Lucien wanted her to remain quiet.  Rachel looked at Caleb and she didn’t know what troubled him most; the flowers or Lucien.

Caleb heard the slow steady countdown in his head; he was fighting for control.  Trying to find his zen to help him deal with this matter.  Before his parents died, Caleb's name had been Troy Sanford.  He recalled the pranks he would play on his nanny and one time, his antics had brought her to tears.  He'd been a spoiled difficult child, and when his adoptive parents had learned about his past, before adopting him; they gave him a name filled with promise.  A name linked to a powerful biblical patriarch in the bible.  Whenever he felt a surge of anger, Caleb would recall the day that two people he'd never met before sat him down in a cold conference room.  They introduced themselves as Zachary and Aldeara Zelle.  Then they continued, explaining that they wanted to remove him from the foster care system, and give him a home.  They told him if he agreed, they would also give him a name that would pave the path leading into his future.  That's where his thoughts were at this very minute.  He was thinking about his parents and the surname that they'd given him.  Within the Samaritan community, the Zelle's were well respected and he didn't want to do anything to stain their image.  Even though his anger had been unleashed, Caleb couldn't allow his emotions to dictate his actions.  He inhaled two deep breaths, then he focused on Ona, while trying to pretend that Lucien Delors didn't exist.  In fact, he tried to imagined that the man wasn't even sharing the same space.