To Protect the Innocent
By Linda Schwartz

Peter finished typing the final sentence of his report; he hit the save button and then logged off.

"Hey, Peter, you're not going to stay here all night, are you?" Kermit asked quietly from behind him.

"Oh, Kermit," Peter jumped, "Make some noise, will ya?"

"Take it easy, kid, I know this case really hit you hard, but it's over and done with. Why don't you go home?" Kermit moved to his office doorway and looked back at his friend.

"Yeah, I'm on my way now, I was just finishing up." Peter got up, grabbed his jacket and took off. He got into the Stealth and drove out of the parking lot, but he was still too keyed up to go home.

The disturbing case he had just finished up was a classic child abuse case. The father had been abusing his son, both physically and emotionally. Throughout the entire investigation, the mother had pretended like she didn't know anything had ever been going on.

It never ceased to amaze Peter how any parent could beat up on their own child. Peter had seen the little boy at the scene. He was about ten years old. His face was covered with bruises and his left arm was broken. Without looking, Peter guessed his clothes hid the remaining evidence of abuse, but Peter had seen enough. It sickened him.

The little boy was in the hospital now. Child protective services would take care of him until a suitable foster home could be found.

Peter parked his car near the park entrance; a pathway led to the lake, which was his secret place. He needed a quiet place to unwind and try to center himself. He sat down at the base of an oak tree and closed his eyes. Meditation never came easy to him as a child, but ever since his reunion with his father, he'd gotten much better at it. He relaxed his body and tried to clear his mind, focussing completely on his breathing.

He opened his eyes to find he was no longer at his secret place, though he recognized his surroundings immediately. The various smells and the candles told him that his mind had transported him back to the temple. Peter treasured his unique childhood, being raised here, the lessons learned and most of all his father.

In his mind's eye he saw his younger self waking up in his room. The young Peter was excited because his father said he was going into town and wanted Peter to accompany him. They were going to get some supplies from one of the merchants.

Peter got dressed and went down to eat breakfast in the dining hall; he joined his friends at the long wooden table as they ate hot cereal and juice.

"Are you ready, my son," Caine asked. He had quietly entered the hall and stood next to his ten-year old son.

"Yes, Father, I am ready." Peter picked up his empty bowl and deposited it in a bin, then followed his father. It was a beautiful Autumn day with there was a definite chill in the air.

"Here, Peter, this will keep you warm as we walk," Caine held out a woolen cloak and wrapped it around his son's shoulders.

Peter loved spending time with his father. They both had responsibilities at the temple and usually didn't see each other until the evening meal. They would then spend the rest of the night sharing the day's events with each other, Caine would tell his son a story before he tucked him into bed.

"Father, why do people keep staring at us?" Peter asked. He noticed how the townspeople kept giving them strange looks.

"For many reasons but usually it is curiosity at seeing someone who is different from themselves."

"Because they hate us?" Peter peered curiously at one of the townspeople who was glaring at them, while whispering to a woman standing next to him.

"Yes, my son, unfortunately some people hate what they do not understand. They have not learned the lessons of the Tao." Caine put an arm around Peter's shoulder and pulled him close in an effort to ease his son's distress.

Finally they arrived at their destination, the general store, which had been supplying the Shaolin temple with goods for many years.

"Here you go, Master Caine, a fresh shipment of candles and some blankets." Mr. Toler handed Caine a box with the items inside.

"And here are some herbs for your wife," Caine had arranged a barter with Mr. Toler. In exchange for the supplies he would give him herbs to help his wife. She suffered from migraines and this was the only thing that helped her.

"Thank you, Caine. OH before I forget," he paused as a thought crossed his mind," Here, Peter, here is something for you." Mr. Toler held out some root beer sticks.

Peter looked at the candy then up at his father. Caine smiled and nodded for his young son to take the proffered treat. They didn't have sweets too often at the temple, so the children enjoyed them even more.

Caine bowed at Mr. Toler, "Thank you," he said softly. He took the box and walked out of the store with Peter following close behind. He had opened up the candy stick and was sucking on it.

As the Caines made their way back home to the temple, their path took them past a playground. There were some kids playing kickball, and Peter stopped at a chain-link fence surrounding the yard to watch them play. He really wished he could join them.

"Come, my son, we must return home," Caine noticed Peter was no longer following him and he turned back to urge him to continue their journey. Caine wished he could allow him to join the other children, but they did not accept the Shaolin into their midst.

Peter sighed and followed his father; they passed by some of the food vendors.

A noise reached their ears that caused them to stop. It was the sound of a child crying.

"No, Daddy, I'm sorry." A little boy was cowering on the ground.

"I told you to be more careful, you're so clumsy!" The little boy had dropped the ice cream cone that his father had bought for him. Because of that, his father had hit him.

"You useless brat," the father slapped his son very hard across the face.

"Noooo, Daddy, pleeeease!" He pleaded with his father to stop. The little boy was kneeling on the ground, tears spilling down his bruised cheeks.

The father was about to hit him again when a strong hand stopped him.

"Enough!" Caine had stopped him from hurting the boy again. "A father must not teach his child through violence. He must be gentle while showing love and patience."

"What would you know, priest?" the man glared at Caine as he tried to break away from his strong grip.

"This is my son, Peter," Caine indicated the boy who had been standing off to the side, watching the exchange.

"Yeah? And I suppose he's never done anything wrong?" the man asked, as he slowly calmed down.

"He has erred many times, it is part of learning." Caine knelt down next to the child.

"Your child fears you now," Caine cupped the boy's chin in his hand and checked the boy's injuries. The child had stopped crying, he glared fearfully at his father and then looked downward.

"I'm sorry, Billy, I didn't mean to hurt you." The father knelt down beside Caine and Billy. "It's been so hard for me, I lost my job and I can't find anything. I've got two kids to provide for. My wife and I have been fighting, it's a mess." The father started to sob.

"Daddy?" Billy slowly approached his father and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he hugged his son.

"I believe I can help you find a job," Caine stated.

"There was a help wanted sign at the general store. I know the owner, perhaps he will hire you."

"Really, you'd help me?" the man was surprised this stranger would help him.

"Of course," Caine shrugged his shoulder.

"Who are you?" he got up and held out his son's hand.

"I am Caine." He stated as he put a hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter knew his father believed in protecting the innocent and helping those in need.

"I'm John Campbell," he shook Caine's hand. "Well, I guess you sure know how to be a better father then I do."

"I do not," Caine stated to the distraught man.

"Well, your son isn't afraid of you. You love your father, don't you?" John asked Peter.

"Yes, I do love my father, he's a good man," Peter was confused. Why did this man strike his son? He felt his father's hand squeezing his shoulder; it was a gesture of reassurance that they would discuss this experience later.

"Being a father is a neverending lesson. My son and I are always teaching each other many things. But we do it with patience and love."

"Thanks, Caine, I better get home before my wife starts to worry. Come on, Billy, let's go." John rubbed his hand through his son's hair and led him toward the car.

"Um, how do I get in touch with you?" John asked the priest.

"Come to the temple, ask for Caine, I will help you." Caine said as he turned, then he and Peter walked back home.

Peter slowly opened his eyes and found himself once again in the park. He remembered the journey back to the temple had been filled with more questions than answers on why parents sometimes abused their children. Peter came to understand that his father didn't always know the answers to everything, especially something so inexplicable as this.

Peter noticed the sun was going down. He needed to see his father. Maybe they could go out to dinner together. Peter got up and walked back to his Stealth. No matter what differences he and his father have had when he was a kid or after their reunion, theirs was a special relationship. They had a close bond that time would never change.

Peter parked his car in his usual spot by his father's loft. A warm, comforting feeling entered his mind and heart. His father sensed he was here. He was waiting for him. Peter smiled as he ascended the steps to his father's home. He felt so lucky to have his father in his life. He would always cherish the memories of a loving father. He only hoped he'd be half as good a father as Caine had been to him.

He opened the door to the loft and released all his recent tensions as the scent of herbs wrapped around him like a blanket. He looked forward to the evening with is wonderful, enigmatic father.

End?