We huddled around Rascal and Samuel, trying to render comfort and aid but there was nothing anybody could do for them in a blighted neighborhood on Christmas, except me. I carried a small flip phone hidden within my jeans. I knew that if I called 911 and identified myself as a City Building Inspector, medical help would arrive swiftly but break up the family forever, placing each person within the penal and inadequate social services system, and the old mansion would be locked up by the cops. I speculated that if given the choice of dying or permitting Queenie and Roxie to go on living in the old mansion, Samuel and Rascal would have chosen death- but not calling for help and letting them die, was a choice I didn’t want to make. Samuel’s beautiful notes resounded in my ears; bringing back memories of saying goodbye to somebody you love for the last time. Wrangler’s admonition to “leave this old house be” was quite clairvoyant. It was the City of Detroit which led me to the old mansion. It was a loving, flawed, little family, who extended their hospitality to a stranger, inviting me to share their love and kindness on Christmas. I looked at my paint stained, red index finger, and knew that I couldn’t be responsible for the extinction of this family. I was certain my call to 911 would be a final goodbye and so I didn’t reach for my phone. I prayed for Rascal and Samuel to recover instead.
It was a sleepless night for everybody, but the following morning, Christmas delivered a gift of life to both Rascal and Samuel who were both resting comfortably- lovingly tended to by Queenie, Roxie, and Wrangler. I gathered my possessions and discretely removed the little Christmas tree from the living room. I placed a note alongside the Downbeat cover reading, “Tree at City Park.” I left the mansion without saying goodbye because I didn’t want to interrupt their quality time. It was my hope Roxie would find true and lasting love with the talent agent who would make good on his promise with jobs for Samuel and Rascal. It would be up to Samuel and Rascal to treasure the gift of life and seize the opportunity extended to them. One thing I knew for sure: as long as Queenie could draw breath, her love, strength, and inner beauty would hold the family together.
Although I found the house to be a treasure trove of recyclable building materials, the most valuable contents were the people who created a loving family despite the bleakest of conditions. I would never forget them. I threw my can of red spray paint in the trash. I left the mansion with the potted Christmas tree which I would plant in the City Park as Samuel wanted. The evening sky was turning to daybreak and I gazed upward finding the lonely little star shining brightly.