by Kylie Parker
“Anywhere but here,” Helen muttered. “I feel like I’m going to suffocate in this room.”
“There’s this great Italian place, a couple of blocks away,” Michelle suggested, as her friend put on her shoes. “What do you think?”
“You guys go ahead and eat.” Helen spoke too fast. “I’m not hungry.”
“Not even for a pizza? Really? Come on, girl. You need to eat something.” Michelle’s mellow tone moved her; yet, food was the last thing on Helen’s mind.
“Please, don’t pressure me, Michelle.” She made her voice sound sweeter. “Like I said, you can eat anything you like. Let’s just get out of here, ok?”
“Ok, now I’m even more worried,” Michelle confessed. “I mean, you, turning down a pizza when you’re this upset?”
“She’s beyond upset,” Olivia spoke her mind. “Helen, let’s do what you said. But, I need you to do something for me first.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t lose faith,” Olivia explained in a deep and confident voice. “We’re talking about a man who’s survived a desert war, for God’s sake. He will come back to you. You just have to believe it.”
“This is a whole different war,” Helen heaved a long, heavy sigh. “He said it himself: He didn’t know if he’d survive. You should have seen him, before he left. He was frightened.”
“Even the toughest man can break,” Olivia pointed out. “You had just been through a terrible ordeal. I think it’s only natural.”
At that point, Helen’s phone rang. Her heart thumped in her chest, as she noticed the New York area code on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Weir?” An unknown, bass-deep voice was on the other end of the line.
“Yes, this is she.”
“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Captain Charlie Boyd; I’m with the New York Police Department. Are you the owner of a 1997, Toyota Hilux? License plate Golf, November, Oscar, Seven, Alpha, Juliet?”
“Yes. Why?” Helen’s voice was filled with agony.
“We just found it, burning, on New York State Route 97, a couple of miles east of Narrowsburg.”
“Burn…” A whisper of despair fled her lips. The world around her turned into a blur of dark colors, the color leaving her face, as her phone slipped through her fingers. Helen’s legs lost the strength to keep her upright. She swayed back and forth, her eyes closed, her stomach tumbling, as Olivia and Michelle stared at her in utter disbelief. Helen fell to the floor face down, her head inches away from Michelle’s feet. Her friend dropped to her knees beside her, before Olivia jumped over her. Bending down, she picked up Helen’s phone from the floor.
“Hello? My name’s Olivia Ralston, I’m Helen’s friend. Who is this?” She asked with a voice riddled with tension and fear.
“Captain Charlie Boyd, NYPD. I just told your friend we’d found her truck, burning on NY 97. There was a dead body in it. Do you know if she’d lent it to anybody?”
“Oh, my God…” Olivia whispered while gripping her hair, as Michelle tried to roll Helen over onto her back. “Yes, she had.”
“Do you have a name, ma’am?”
“No!” Olivia yelled, jerking her head in a spasm of despair. “I don’t know him!”
“I’m sorry. I just asked because identifying the body would be extremely difficult. He’s been badly burnt.”
Pulling the phone away from her ear, Olivia hung up and tossed it across the bed, as Michelle gently slapped Helen in the face. She fell to her knees beside her, biting her lower lip, as she reached towards her. Michelle raised her gaze to meet Olivia’s. The sorrow that was written all over her face and her watery eyes gave her the information that her friend had been dreading.
“No…” She whispered, covering her mouth with her hand, as she shook her head sideways. Helen opened her eyes to slits, as two tears streamed down Olivia’s face. She jolted up, her breath short, as she frantically looked around her. Settling her gaze on Olivia, she recalled the police officer’s phone call. Her world tumbled down around her. She felt her heart shattering into a million pieces, as Olivia circled her left arm around her neck. Her friend pulled her close, as sadness overtook her whole being. Helen pressed her face against Olivia’s chest. Gut-wrenching pain in her chest, burning as if a fire was scorching her insides, caused her to burst into loud, wailing sobs. Her worst fear had come true. She would never again lay her eyes on the face of the man in which she had fallen so hopelessly in love. Her “dark angel” was no longer among the living. In a twist of fate, Marcus had been taken away from her. Now, Helen had to find a way to live without him…
28
A few minutes later, Olivia broke the news of Marcus’s fate to her husband. James was devastated. Joining Helen in her room, he cried hard for his friend, but he did something that she didn’t have the heart to do: Question the circumstances of Marcus’s death. Both Helen and Olivia had failed to ask the police anything further about the truck. All they knew was that it had somehow caught fire.
After contacting Captain Boyd though, it became clear to James that there was nothing suspicious concerning the case. According to the police officer, it was a mere accident. The few eye witnesses described that the driver had been speeding and that he had crashed into a light pole. They had also mentioned that the truck’s gas tank exploded very quickly and engulfed it in flames. Indeed, nothing indicated foul play.
By the early morning, David Donovan had identified his son’s body, but that only confirmed what Helen had known from the beginning. Still, for some reason she could not fathom, this piece of information was leaked to the press. In a matter of a few hours, the internet was swamped with reports of a marine who had been considered dead for six years, getting killed in a car accident. And, much to Helen’s annoyance, many reporters called Marcus a “traitor”, “rogue”, or even a “ruthless illegal arms dealer, who got what he deserved.” More than that, due to his past, he would not be given a military funeral. For the government, Marcus was not worthy of one. Unable to believe her eyes, Helen was outraged. In fact, Helen was so angry that she tried calling the webmaster of “Sparkmedia.com”, but Olivia prevented her from doing so, maintaining that the news outlet would probably publish an article on her and humiliate her as well. Leaving Helen’s room, Olivia urged her to not let her pain cloud her judgment, as that could have catastrophic effects, potentially even worse than just an embarrassing article on her.
“I’m with her on this one.” Michelle said, seating herself beside Helen on her bed. “I know you’re hurting, but really, do you think that bitching at them would make you feel any better? Because I don’t.”
“I’ve lost him, Michelle.” Helen sighed, wiping her tears off her face. “My dark angel is gone. Nothing can make me feel any better.”
“Dark angel?” Michelle squinted at her. “You called him that?”
“Yeah,” Helen gave a sad snort. “Why are you asking?”
“Never mind,” Michelle waved her hand in front of her face, tearing her gaze away from her friend.
“What is it?” Helen put a little force in her voice.
“You’ll hate me if I say,” Michelle stated emphatically.
“That’s not possible,” Helen claimed. “Come on. Tell me.”
“Alright;” Michelle drew in a sharp breath, turning to her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. There is…” She faltered. “… this really, really great song by Evanescence. It’s called ‘My Heart Is Broken’. It mentions a dark angel and…”
“And?” Helen waited for her answer with bated breath, but Michelle spoke no more. Instead, she reached down and pulled Helen’s laptop closer.
“Again, please don’t hate me for this.” She spoke, her tone low, as she furiously hit the keys. “Here it is.”
A melancholic piano introduction, along with a majestic female voice filled the air, as Michelle pressed the “enter” button, one last time. The first lyrics sent chills down Helen’s spine. She had n
ever been a fan of power chords; yet, in this particular song, they lured her in. Amy Lee’s voice spoke to her soul, as Marcus’s smiling image flashed through her mind. And, when she heard the chorus, she discovered why Michelle had kept her mouth shut. Helen dropped her face into her hands, letting a river of tears pour out of her, as wave after wave of emotion swept over her…
I will wander 'til the end of time, torn away from you
I pulled away to face the pain
I close my eyes and drift away
Over the fear that I will never find
A way to heal my soul
And I will wander 'til the end of time
Torn away from you
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us from sorrow's hold
(Over my heart)
I can't go on living this way
But I can't go back the way I came
Chained to this fear that I will never find
A way to heal my soul
And I will wander 'til the end of time
Half alive without you
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us
Change - open your eyes to the light
I denied it all so long, oh so long
Say goodbye, goodbye
My heart is broken
Release me, I can't hold on
Deliver us
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us
My heart is broken
Sweet sleep, my dark angel
Deliver us from sorrow's hold
“How could I have been so stupid?” Michelle whispered, pulling Helen into a side hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Sweet sleep,” Helen sniffled, holding onto her friends arm, as her body shook. “God, I miss him so much…”
“Let it out,” Michelle encouraged, kissing her on the top of her head. “Let it all out.”
“I shouldn’t have told him to go back to New York.” Helen said, her voice broken, as her tears soaked her friend’s skin. “He’d still be alive…”
“… And on the run.” Michelle murmured, “Just like you. Don’t think like that. He did what he had to do to keep you safe.”
“Yeah,” Helen sighed, easing out of Michelle’s embrace. “Look where it’s got him.”
“If you weren’t grieving, you and I would be having a serious argument right now.” Michelle grumbled, stepping out of bed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Helen asked, rolling her gaze up to meet hers.
“You have no right to think like that!” Michelle yelled, pointing down at her. “The man made his choice and that choice was to protect you. Are you telling me he wouldn’t have gone back to New York, if you hadn’t asked him to? Because I don’t believe it. You have no right to feel guilty about this, Helen. You just don’t.”
Upon finishing her rant, Michelle turned on her heel and stormed out of Helen’s room, leaving her puzzled friend feeling even worse.
Nice going, Helen. You’ve managed to anger her. Why? Because she thinks exactly the same thing you told him in that motel room. You said you made your choice. He did as well. You’re right, Michelle. I’m just in too much pain to think straight…
29
The group soon packed their things and vacated the hotel. Marcus’s funeral would be held the following day and everybody wanted to bid him farewell. For Helen, these were perhaps the most excruciating hours of her stay. Having to collect clothes she had worn on her dates with him brought back the ugly memory of his tragic death. She remembered every single detail, but, the image that dominated her mind was Marcus, sitting on the saddle of his Harley, as their eyes met across the road. That night, she realized that their fates had been entwined and that was the main reason why she had insisted on dating him so much. At the same time however, Helen discovered that, as much as she would like to revisit Los Angeles one day, it would be impossible. They hadn’t met there, but most of their relationship had unfolded in the city of angels. That’s where Helen had known and loved her own angel.
Helen might have been grieving for Marcus, but Michelle’s outburst in her hotel room had been lingering in her mind as well. Her friend hadn’t been famous for her subtlety. Indeed, Michelle could be very blunt, but that was one of the things that Helen liked most about her. More importantly, though, she was the one who had offered her the job as her personal assistant. Had it not been for her, Helen wouldn’t have met Marcus at all. She valued her friendship with her and hated it that the two of them had barely exchanged words, until they boarded the plane. Luckily, she, Michelle and Olivia sat in adjacent seats, but she had to wait long enough for the boarding to be completed, as the noise from luggage being loaded and the chattering would make it hard for them to hear each other.
The massive jet engines roared, as they lifted off. Michelle looked out the window on her right, as Helen wrapped her fingers around her wrist.
“I’m sorry about yesterday.” She said in a sweet tone.
“Don’t be.” Michelle attempted a lazy tone, lightly shaking her head. “I told you about that song and I yelled at you. I’m such a catch. I’d hug you, but…” Michelle paused and looked over her headrest. “Mr. Creepy is watching. He’ll start being smart again.”
“Nope,” Rick’s usually happy voice came out drowsy; he even had a sullen look on his face. “Not anymore.”
“This is the part where you explain to them ‘why’.” Gina interjected.
“Death has that effect on you.” Rick explained. “My best friend’s friend just died. Don’t expect me to be all cheerful.”
Helen was intrigued, as a devious smile spread across Michelle’s face. She didn’t address him, though. Instead, she leaned over to Helen and whispered in her ear:
“Great. Now we’ll have two Gina’s. I’ll call him ‘Gick’ from now on.”
Helen gave a short laugh, biting her lower lip, as Michelle winked at her.
“There’s that cute smile again.” She pointed at her. “I was starting to wonder where it had gone.”
“I’m really grateful to you, Michelle.” Helen said in a more mellow tone. “I’ve experienced more in these past three weeks than in my whole life. I’m a little mad at myself for taking money from you. Now that is something I shouldn’t have done.”
“The job was just a pretext, sweetheart.” Michelle smiled. “It wasn’t much of a job, anyway. I couldn’t ask you to follow us down to California, flat broke. How would you pay for anything?”
“Pardon me for interrupting this tender moment, but can I have your attention?” Olivia joined the conversation, holding a newspaper in front of her. “We already know that Helen’s truck was found close to Narrowsburg. But, the paper says that it was heading towards New York, not Pennsylvania.”
“I’m not following you.” Michelle complained. “I can’t see much, either. Bring it closer.”
Olivia obliged, setting the newspaper down on Helen’s lap. The article confirmed her words.
“Ok, two questions.” Olivia went on. “One: Why was he on Route 97? Shouldn’t he be using the interstate? Two: Why would he be driving towards New York? What was he still doing there? I mean, shouldn’t he be heading in the opposite direction?”
“I can only answer the first one.” Helen spoke in a puzzled tone. “He wanted to avoid highways. Interstates are full of traffic cameras. It’s weird. He’d left Berwick almost 48 hours earlier. I doubt it’d take him more than six hours to get there.”
“We need to talk to the police.” Olivia said firmly. “Something is seriously wrong here.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Helen said with a nod. “What do you think it could be?”
“I have no idea, honey.” Olivia shrugged her shoulders. “It could be anything, really. This clue doesn’t mean much by itself, but his phone had been off all that time. Now, why would he do that?�
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“Let’s not speculate, shall we?” Michelle suggested. “Let’s wait until after the funeral. The cops have a lot of explaining to do.”
Helen continued to stare at the newspaper, in the hope that Olivia had discovered an important piece of the puzzle. Part of her was desperate to believe that she didn’t know the whole truth. Still, she agreed with Michelle. Speculating was not a good idea. At any rate, the moment that she would confront the police was very close. Soon, she would have the answers that she so much needed…
30
As one would expect, the Cemetery of the Evergreens was full of people. Marcus was the son of a very powerful man, with many friends, as well as enemies. Nevertheless, what really lured most of them, was the fact that the Pentagon had been considering him dead. Many people were wondering why the government would do that to a man in uniform, since his body had never been retrieved in Afghanistan. A few of them suspected the possibility of a cover-up, whereas most of them dismissed it as a conspiracy theory.
All the same, along with common people, came dozens of reporters. As a matter of fact, there were so many television vans close to the cemetery that James had to park his car more than half a mile away from it. Once again, Helen felt anger rising within her. She knew very well what all those reporters were going to say. And, not long afterwards, her suspicions were confirmed. To make matters worse, they broadcast live from the spot, smiling for the camera, as if they were attending some sort of celebration. Helen’s initial thought was to confront a random member of the press. Their insensitivity disgusted her. But, in a matter of seconds, she rejected that notion. She was there to honor his memory, not start a fight with someone. Furthermore, making a scene in such a public place was a guaranteed way for her to be humiliated.
Before the start of the service, James told her that he wanted to see his friend’s body and asked her if she would like to go with him. But Helen didn’t have the heart to glance upon the remains of the large, handsome man who had captured her heart. She politely refused, claiming that she wanted to remember him as he was. James did take a look in the coffin, but he didn’t have the chance to talk to Helen, as reverend Douglas started his funeral sermon.