Something to Be Grateful For

Something to Be Grateful For

Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense
Newark, New Jersey
November 25, 2004 (Evening of Thanksgiving Day)

It hadn't started out as a bad day, really. Touch warm for this time of year—a little sun, a little rain. Walt, Mindy, and Treve came this morning, forced the regular Bureau cooks out of the main kitchen, and cooked us the best Thanksgiving dinner the Bureau's seen in a long time.

I suppose that I should've felt sad during dinner and part of me did. The other part watched Liz laughing at one of Myers's bad jokes and all I felt was lucky. I still can't believe Liz loves me instead of him, but she does. And that makes life good, even with Pop gone.

Abe still wasn't able to spend much time out of his medical tank, but he did come for a while and nibble just a little at the food. I swear all he would talk about was how Katie's going to move back to New York from Pittsburgh in time for New Year's. You'd think he was sweet on her or something.

All in all, it was a good Thanksgiving this year. And just like my father taught me, there's a lot I can find to be grateful for.

So, why am I sitting up here on the roof in the drizzle, just kicking my heels?

"Hey, Hellboy, you okay?" Pooh, just the guy I didn't need.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Manning. Just needed some air, that's all."

"Well, I just thought that maybe you'd like to talk to someone."

I stood up and turned to face him,

"Well, yeah, there is someone I'd like to talk to, but you're not it."

"Oh, you mean like Abe or Liz? Tell me who and I'll get them."

Jeez, he's not really such a bad guy, but he can be so dense sometimes.

"Manning, I'm afraid the guy I'd like to talk to isn't around to talk to anymore."

As he stood there, long cigar in hand, it took him a few seconds to figure out which 'guy' I meant. Then, not sure what to say, he moved on to something else. "They're going to serve dessert soon."

"Tell them to go ahead and start without me. Don't much care for pumpkin pie."

Manning laughed, "Neither does Liz, it seems. So, Mindy and her son Trevor are making Belgian waffles with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge sauce; the works."

"Really?" My appetite perked up again. There was nothing Liz and I liked better than Mindy's Belgian waffles with hot fudge and the works. "I'll be back in soon. Just tell them to give me a few minutes."

After Manning went in, I stood on the roof for a little longer. The drizzle had stopped and the almost full moon peeked through the clouds.

As the sky lightened, so did my mood. Sure, I miss my father. I always will. But I've gained so much since Liz and I came back from Moscow. The kinds of things I'm sure he would've approved of—something truly to be grateful for.