AN: So, it's been a little bit, but I come bearing a new multi-chapter. When I shot the story idea to my friends, I think they were both a little apprehensive and said, "You might be able to pull it off." I guess we're about to see if I did! It isn't super long, only 9 chapters. I hope you enjoy it.

November 1975

With his breath hanging in a white cloud in the frigid cold, Henry McCord tapped his stick against the ice. The puck dropped and they were off. Pushing and shoving each other, they worked their way across the lake toward the makeshift goal. Henry drew back, ready to send the puck flying into the goal, when the toe of Bart Thompson's stick came smacking down on the back of Henry's hand.

Henry jumped. He wasn't playing hockey. He was sitting in Sr. Bernadette's 6th grade religion class, and he didn't get hit by a hockey stick, but by Sister's ruler. The class all snickered. Sr. Bernadette towered over Henry. "Mr. McCord, would you please answer the question?"

"And what was the question, Sister?" Smack. The ruler came down hard across his knuckles. He winced, but said nothing. "Damn, that smarts," he thought.

"Corporal works of mercy, Mr. McCord. How can one actively live out the work of mercy 'bury the dead?""

"Don't leave dead people in the streets," Henry said, straightfaced, prepared to get whacked again, but it didn't happen. The class was openly laughing, and Sr. Bernadette's eyes narrowed.

"Mr. McCord. You will be spending the next four afternoons working in the cemetery with me. Be sure you explain this to your parents so they won't be concerned with regard to your whereabouts the rest of the week." She turned and walked away. Henry sighed. No hockey for him for a few days.

A few days ended up being a few weeks, because once Henry's father, Patrick, found out that he had been assigned cemetery duty because of his smart mouth, the punishment was tripled. In total, Henry spent sixteen days scrubbing gravestones, making minor repairs with the help of the cemetery caretaker, and placing Christmas wreaths on every grave in the Our Lady of Good Counsel parish cemetery.

Of course, Henry would have rather spent the afternoons playing hockey, but he found that he didn't really mind the work. Sr. Bernadette spent a lot of time talking about the importance of praying for the dead and for the peace of their loved ones and asking for their intercession as saints in heaven. Henry found it interesting to read the gravestones and come up with scenarios about the lives of people from years ago. What might have happened that several family members died at once or within days of each other? Were they ill or was there an accident? He spent hours pondering these things while he worked.

In case sixteen days wasn't enough to really drive the point home, Henry's mom, Lucy dragged him to three funeral dinners, where he carried the piping hot crock of green beans his mother made and walked around all of the tables refilling tea glasses. By the time Christmas break rolled around, Henry thought he'd done more to actively live "bury the dead," than almost every Catholic he knew.

New Year's Day 1976

Henry was sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor, working diligently on the Erector set he'd received for Christmas, when he heard the phone ring in the background. He didn't flinch. He never received phone calls. They were all for his 14 year old sister, Maureen, so he was surprised when his mom called up the stairs. "Henry, phone. It's Tommy Johnson."

Henry jumped to his feet and scrambled down the stairs, nearly running into the end of the couch in his haste to get the call. "Hello?"

"Hey Henry. It's Tommy. We're all going to play hockey this afternoon. Are you out of the doghouse yet?"

Henry groaned, "I don't know. What time? If I can, I will be there."

"1:30. Good luck man," Tommy said.

"Yeah, thanks." Henry barely replaced the receiver in the cradle when he took off toward the kitchen calling, "Moooooommmm."

Reluctantly Lucy agreed, and Henry found himself, new hockey stick in hand (his gift from Santa), on his way to the city park lake. Many of the guys were already gathered. Teams were chosen and the game began. It was like every other time they'd played until Bobby took a wild shot and sent the puck sliding off to the middle of the large lake. Without a second thought, Tommy took off across the ice to retrieve it. He made it to within ten feet of the puck, when the ice broke and he fell through.

"Get help!" Henry screamed to one of the other boys, shoving him toward solid ground. Henry skated out as far as he knew he was safe and then went down on his belly, scooting toward the break. Tommy hadn't come up, and Henry couldn't shake the feeling of dread and panic that grew as he neared the hole. He was right at the edge when he felt someone grab his ankle and, looking over his shoulder, saw all of the boys had formed a line, ready to haul them out, if only he could reach Tommy.

"Toooommmmmyyy!" Henry called over and over again, his arms flailing in the water, trying to catch hold of anything. Without warning, Henry felt himself being pulled back. "Noooooo. We've got to save him." Finally turning, he saw the fire and ambulance crews had arrived and were already making their way out to the hole in the ice.

It was three hours later, and nearly dark, when the dive team retrieved Tommy's body. Henry and all of the other boys sat huddled in blankets at the water's edge praying fervently for a miracle that did not come. One by one, the boys were forced by their parents to leave, after offering condolences to Tommy's shocked and grief stricken parents. Henry was the last to approach them, and stood sobbing in front of Tommy's parents begging for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry. I tried to save him," Henry said, his words coming out between choked sobs.

Tommy's mother hugged Henry, and kissed the top of his head, and through her own tears spoke. "I know you did. Sometimes bad things happen and we can't possibly know why." She broke down, her voice cracking. "Thank you for being Tommy's friend."

Four days later

Henry sat stoically between his parents in the fourth pew from the front at Our Lady of Good Counsel. All of the boys that were at the lake that day sat in reserved pews behind the family. It was important to the Johnsons that Tommy's friends be close. Doing his best to hold it together, Henry distracted himself by reading the program that had the order of the service and Tommy's obituary in it. It was typical until he got to the bottom where it said Interment: Riverview Cemetery, Charlottesville, Virginia.

Henry elbowed Lucy and pointed. "What does that mean?" he whispered.

Lucy looked at the paper. "They are going to bury Tommy in Charlottesville where his grandparents are buried. Remember they came from that area when they moved here a few years ago?"

Henry was devastated. "Who's going to visit his grave? Who's going to take care of it? Don't his parents know?" He was speaking in hushed tones, but Patrick put his hand on Henry's leg and squeezed it, hard, to make a point. Henry fell silent, the thoughts still swirling in his head.

Summer 1976

Henry had just finished mowing the neighbor's lawn and ran into the house through the back door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Tommy's parents sitting at the kitchen table with his own-everyone looking very serious. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Johnson." An uneasiness fell over him and the adults stared at each other, not really knowing what to say.

Finally Mr. Johnson spoke up. "Henry, you know how we moved from Charlottesville to Pittsburgh for my job? Well, since Tommy-" he paused, still unable to say the word "died" without breaking down. "Since Tommy's accident, I've been trying to get a transfer. It finally came through. We are moving back to Charlottesville. There are just too many bad memories here. We need to be closer to our family."

Henry shifted his weight. "Thanks for coming to tell me." Henry wasn't really sure what else to say. It didn't seem right to tell Tommy's parents that they needed to make sure to go and visit their son's grave. He was sure they would anyway. Instead he said, "When you get there, tell Tommy I said hello and that I think about him all of the time." Then he headed up the stairs, roughly wiping the tears from his eyes.

Fall 1980

Henry sat at the dining room table surrounded by college brochures. They seemed to arrive ten at a time since Henry started his junior year and did well on the college entrance exam. "I don't see why you think you need to go to college," Patrick muttered in the background. "It's a hell of a lot cheaper to go ahead and start working. The union pays well. You could start at $300/week. That's big money for a 17 year old."

"I know Dad, but I want the chance to go out and see the world. I want to join the military. If I do ROTC, I can get a degree and see the world. I think I might want to teach." Patrick rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the TV.

In the background, the phone rang and Lucy picked it up. Henry heard her gasp and both Henry and Patrick turned to see what was going on. They heard Lucy murmur her thanks and hang up the phone. She stood silently at the end of the couch, he hand still resting on the phone. "What is it?" Patrick asked, rising.

Lucy let out a shaky breath. "That was Claire from the church rectory. She said she received a call and Ralph and Mary Johnson are dead."

"What?" Patrick asked, his voice much too loud. She nodded and Patrick moved toward his wife.

"Tommy's mom and dad?" Henry asked, confused. "How?"

"Carbon monoxide poisoning. It seems something went wrong with their furnace when they turned it on. A neighbor found them dead this morning. They think it happened a couple days ago when it first turned cold down there. I just can't believe it." Lucy's voice cracked and Patrick pulled her to sit on the couch next to him.

Henry leaned against the dining room chair he'd been sitting on. "Do they have other family down there?"

Lucy shook her head. "I don't think so. Ralph's aunt died last spring. I think that was the last of the family they had. So sad."

Henry sighed, "Yeah, it is." He turned and stacked up the brochures. "I think I'm going to go on up to my room." He gave his mom a hug and squeezed his dad's shoulder and silently climbed the stairs.

He emerged from the bathroom and caught sight of the bookcase at the end of the hall next to his bedroom. It held a complete set of World Book Encyclopedias. He pulled the U-V volume and stepped into his room, closing the door.

Sitting with his back against the headboard Henry opened the book and thumbed through until he came across the entry he was looking for-Virginia. Turning the pages slowly, he stopped and carefully read the section entitled, "Education." Learning that the University of Virginia was located in Charlottesville, he flipped back to the letter U, and finding what he needed there, he read carefully.

He discovered that UVA had an ROTC program and that made the decision for him. He would go to Charlottesville and take care of Tommy and his family. He would be the caretaker.