The Other Side of Life

by Andy Kutler

  He could bring this man’s scalp to Cal Garrity if he wanted. Or to Peter Kirch’s mother. But it was about so much more than Garrity and Kirch. It was about even more than Lucy.

  It was about justice. He wanted Leavitt here. He wanted answers.

  Where are you, you son of a bitch? Tell me why this piece of shit gets to live and Lucy doesn’t. Who gets to make that decision?

  Today, right now, it was his decision. Justice was in his hands.

  He could save her, right now. Bring her back. The Travers bloodline would end here. He saw it now. It was why Leavitt sent him to New Mexico. And then Pennsylvania. Missouri might be his final opportunity.

  Finish this deed and Leavitt would likely be there, ready to take him back. Back to her.

  Justice.

  But something was wrong. Where was his sense of triumph? His relief? It should feel different than this. His cleats should still be clean. It should feel…right. Perfect.

  But it wasn’t.

  He heard a voice. A voice telling him to let go. But it wasn’t an onlooker or a city constable. It was the same voice he heard back in his daughter’s room in Honolulu as he held that snub-nosed .38 under his chin. It was the voice he had heard when Travers was in his gun sights, first in New Mexico, later in Pennsylvania. It was a voice he had tried to wall off from his consciousness, but had never succeeded.

  It was his own voice telling him he didn’t want one more. Not even this one.

  He relaxed his grip on the knife, and climbed off of Travers, tossing the dagger away. The man stirred, letting out a soft groan, and Kelsey flashed back to a memory of young Kirch sprawled against those rocks. Kelsey grabbed a fistful of Travers’ hair and slammed his head against the ground, knocking the man out again.

  He slowly rose to his feet and stumbled out of the alley, glimpsing the older man he had nearly run into earlier. The man approached, holding the guns timidly. Kelsey had to bend over, hands on his knees, still catching his breath.

  “Thanks, pal, I owe you one.”

  “You have it wrong,” said the familiar voice. “I owe you something.”

  Kelsey looked up, surprised and not surprised, as he instantly recognized the soft grayish blue eyes and the mane of white hair.

  “Shall we take a walk, Commander Kelsey?”

  CHAPTER 32

  “It’s so quiet here,” Kelsey said, gazing across the lake at the snow-dusted peaks in the distance. “I missed this kind of quiet.”

  Leavitt smiled as he poured tea from a thermos. “I remembered you had taken a liking to the view here during our last conversation. I confess, this bench is a personal favorite.”

  The older man gestured toward the mountain range that stretched across the horizon. “Late in the day, the sun looks as if it is going to impale itself on the jagged edge of that summit in the center. And you get to see this fiery red ball descending, and then it seems to hover, for just an instant, before dipping below the horizon. And it seems that just for a minute, a few seconds even, time has stopped. It takes my breath away every time.”

  But Kelsey was no longer looking to the mountains. He was staring at his own hands, turning them over. The knuckles on his right hand were bruised and swollen, speckled with drops of dried blood.

  Leavitt sipped his tea noisily. The old man hadn’t changed much since they’d last met two years ago. The khaki slacks and white cotton shirt he wore were nothing exceptional, but reinforced the older man’s simple elegance. His face appeared a bit more lined, and there were now a handful of dark blotches on his face and hands. But those grayish blue eyes held the same warmth and energy.

  Kelsey studied his own clothes, realizing he wasn’t in his naval uniform this time. He was sporting the same barn coat and wool trousers he had purchased in Ohio.

  “After Pearl Harbor, I showed up on that train platform in my dress whites, without a spot of blood or grime on them. Same deal after Fairfield.” Kelsey held up his hand. “So why this?”

  “Because I wanted to talk about that.” Leavitt said. “If you’ll indulge me.”

  “I always enjoy our conversations,” answered Kelsey, unsure even as the words left his mouth if he had intended to be sarcastic or not.

  “How are you, Commander? It’s been some time.”

  “Seems like twenty years. I survived, I guess. Wounded a couple of times, nothing serious. I guess you know that already.” He thought for a few more moments. “I’m tired. Really tired. Could use a vacation. A week or two on Waikiki, with a hula girl serving me drinks with paper umbrellas.”

  Leavitt arched an eyebrow. “Any regrets about your decision?”

  “To go back to Pennsylvania? “ Kelsey shrugged. “I guess. There were some times when…” He paused. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, but I was praying hard at times that you would take me away from all of that again, and I’m not exactly the praying type. Or that I would suddenly wake up, somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

  Leavitt crossed his legs. “Hiram Travers.”

  “What about him?

  “You were so close in that alley. His life…he was at your mercy. You knew his past. Knew he murdered that young man, Peter Kirch. Knew what he had done with Lieutenant Garrity back in New Mexico. Most important, you suspected the bloodline. Yet, you relented. Why did you stop?”

  “You sound surprised. I thought you would be pleased.”

  Leavitt wrinkled his forehead. “Pleased?”

  “Yeah. You know, a merciful God, and all that.”

  Leavitt chuckled, darkly. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone here. But I wouldn’t have minded if you had plunged that dagger into his black heart.”

  Kelsey looked at him, his eyebrows raised.

  “You’re surprised by that?” asked Leavitt with sudden intensity. “Don’t be. I’ll never meet the likes of Hiram Travers, but I’ve known plenty like him. Our sentiments may be tempered a bit here, Commander, but that hasn’t dulled our sense of righteousness. Not one bit.”

  “An eye for an eye? Very biblical, Mr. Leavitt.” Kelsey paused, thinking. “With Travers, there is a relation, right? It can’t be a coincidence.”

  Leavitt nodded. “He is the grandfather of James Travers, Major, United States Army Medical Corps.”

  “Did you send me there to kill him?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why?”

  “The assumption that—”

  “If I had killed him just now, would Lucy be alive?”

  Leavitt rested his cup on the bench and poured more tea into it. “Commander, I don’t—”

  “Goddamnit, Leavitt!” shouted an exasperated Kelsey, knocking the cup into the air with the back of his hand. The tea splashed to the ground. “I’ve put up with these games for four damned years now. Can’t you for once give me one blasted honest answer?”

  The older man fished out a handkerchief and dried his hands. He wasn’t angry however. The man was never angry. He seemed…pensive.

  Probably about the fucking tea.

  Leavitt’s voice was quiet. “Hiram Travers has his own path, like everyone else. Our job here is not to influence what happens with it. As for your chance intersection with that path, I tell you in all honesty, I have no knowledge—”

  “You can’t expect me to believe that it was just chance?”

  A voice from behind. “Perhaps I can answer that, Commander.”

  Leavitt rose from the bench, surprised, and instinctively, Kelsey stood as well. Their visitor approached and extended his hand to Kelsey, looking to Leavitt to make the introductions.

  “Commander, this is Aleksy Wozniak. A…colleague.”

  Wozniak was younger than Leavitt, considerably so, but wore the same khaki pants and white cotton shirt. His build was slight but athletic, despite the beginnings of a paunch around his waist. His blond hair was trimmed short and neatly combed. If Leavitt reminded Kelsey of one of his aged professors at UCLA, Wozniak could have passed as the man’s teaching assistant. He ga
ve a warm smile to Kelsey, who accepted the extended hand guardedly.

  “Colleague?”

  Leavitt shrugged. “My boss, you might say.”

  “Sam, can you give us some time alone?”

  “You’re sure this is the right thing to do?”

  Wozniak’s eyes twinkled. “You’ve earned it, Sam. As for Commander Kelsey here, well, you’ll just have to trust me.”

  Leavitt smiled. “I’ve always done that, Alex.” He closed his thermos and patted Kelsey on the shoulder as he walked away.

  “Hey!” called Kelsey after him.

  Leavitt turned.

  “Sorry about the tea.”

  The old man smiled, resuming his walk.

  Wozniak took a seat on the bench and gestured for Kelsey to follow suit. Kelsey sat, studying the man next to him.

  “You look like a man with a question.”

  “He called you the boss,” Kelsey answered. “Are you?”

  “Am I what? God?” Wozniak laughed, then saw Kelsey was serious. He shook his head. “No.”

  “But you are the boss. That is what Leavitt called you. Do you…control things here?”

  “Control is a strong word, Mr. Kelsey. I will try to put it in nautical terms for you. I’m like a captain of one of your ships. I watch over the crew, and the crew takes care of the ship.”

  Kelsey looked at him skeptically. “That’s it?”

  “Does a captain control the seas and the currents? Does he control the elements? Does he control the laws of physics that keep that vessel afloat?”

  “So you don’t control anything?”

  “Well, I didn’t say that. Perhaps you have heard the saying, ‘we cannot change the direction of the wind, but we can adjust our sails.’”

  “Another riddle,” muttered Kelsey. “You drink tea, too?”

  “Ask me your questions. I know you must have many.”

  “I’ll ask the same questions I asked Leavitt once. What am I doing here? Why me? Where does this end?”

  “After all that you have been through,” Wozniak said, “you deserve some answers. Let’s begin with that which drives you, what you are most passionate about. Lucy. I know that was your question when you first met Sam. As Sam told you, we had nothing to do with that. It is said that things happen for a reason. Rubbish. What happened to Lucy was senseless and without meaning. If we had the ability to prevent it, we would have. If Sam or I has ever sounded or acted indifferent to your loss, it is because we process mortality every day on a scale you could not imagine. I can understand the perception that our emotional response to such events is inadequate. But do not assume our response is a reflection of what is in our hearts. And do not mistake our responsibilities here for any sort of indifference or apathy. It is anything but.”

  Kelsey was suddenly struck with the simplest of questions. Perhaps because he always assumed he knew the answer, and now, he realized he was anything but certain. “What is this place?”

  “Ah, the million-dollar question, as Sam likes to say. Unfortunately, I cannot share the answer with you. Not yet.”

  “Why the secrecy?”

  “We don’t really consider it a secret. Almost everyone who passes through—and that is all they do here—doesn’t ask or care about that question. Our role is only of interest to those of us who serve here.”

  “So why did you pull me off the Nevada? You gave me a choice, a choice no one else was offered. I asked Leavitt once and he wouldn’t answer. Why me?”

  Wozniak nodded. “That was my doing. I instructed him to offer you an alternative path.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you knew what my answer would be?”

  Wozniak gave him a smile. “I had a good idea.”

  “How?”

  “Because it is what I would have chosen. And Sam.”

  “I feel like a lab mouse.”

  “This wasn’t for our amusement. Those were real people you fought and served with, that you grew close to, and yes, whose lives were lost. Everything you saw, everything you did, everything you felt, was real.”

  “Why put me through that?”

  “Because I had to know, Mr. Kelsey. I had to know for certain who you are.”

  “And who am I?”

  “A man who did what he saw as his duty. You’ve changed, as any man would, but your moral core has only grown stronger. I took a great risk, releasing you with your memory fully intact. The members of the High Council were beside themselves when they learned what I had done. But not once did you discuss or use to your advantage your knowledge of future events.”

  “Not to sound flip, but so what?”

  Wozniak smiled. “I don’t think you appreciate how uncommon you are. You have a respect for the way things are, the natural order, but you make every effort to thrive under the conditions as they are, without dwelling on what they should be. Everything we have seen from you verifies that fact. Even a minor episode like Seaman Leroy Dixon. This is precisely our existence here.”

  “What if I had tried to change things, based on what I knew? The thought did cross my mind. Would you have stopped me?”

  “I had faith in you, Commander.”

  Kelsey leaned over, elbows on his knees, his hands clenched together. He was confused, exasperated, but most of all, weary.

  Wozniak noticed. “Tell me, Commander, what did you see? In the war.”

  “What do you think I saw? I saw death and suffering. I saw so many men—”

  Kelsey’s voice faded as his eyes became distant. “The wounded—I still hear those men in my sleep. The dead civilians, including women and kids. But the worst, the absolute worst, are those faces I see now. The men I killed, I can still see their faces. Every one of them.”

  Wozniak nodded his understanding. “I can empathize. I have been through something quite similar in my birth country. Sam, well, I can’t even begin to describe what he has seen.”

  Kelsey looked at him. “Am I going back?”

  “That is entirely up to you, depending whether or not you accept my offer.”

  “What offer?”

  Wozniak smiled at him. “The offer to stay here with us.”

  “I asked Leavitt once if I could do that. He said this was a transitory place, not for people like me.”

  “It’s not. But I want you to consider remaining here, joining us in our work.”

  “Your work? Doing what exactly?”

  “Well, something substantial. Sam is retiring and I need a new Guide.”

  Kelsey laughed, unable to help himself. “Me, a Guide? Like Leavitt? I hate tea.”

  “You misunderstand. I already have his replacement. A gifted one. Bright, perceptive, endless energy, and most of all, strong of heart. Understands what we do here, but doesn’t necessarily agree with all of it. That’s okay, I haven’t always seen eye to eye with Sam, or our other Guides, on everything either. What this candidate lacks is your life experience. Your insight and perspective would be invaluable, as would be your tutelage. This person has an abundance of intellect and kindness, but also believes we should have a world of rainbows and unicorns. That will not happen. It’s not what we do here.”

  “So why not someone else?”

  Wozniak smiled, almost apologetically. “I know it may sound as if I am talking in circles, but the world could use more rainbows and unicorns.”

  “I hate rainbows.”

  The older man laughed. “I’m sure you do.”

  “I’m no mentor. I failed at that before.”

  “That was my initial assessment as well. But I spoke to someone and he convinced me otherwise.”

  “Who?”

  “A former shipmate of yours. He assured me that you could provide our new Guide with the right…balance. And I agree. You, as well as anyone, understand the darkness that exists in man and nature. And yet, my instincts, which have served me quite well, tell me that somewhere inside of you, there exists an idealistic man.”

  “Come on,” scoffed Kel
sey.

  Wozniak studied him thoughtfully and then stood. “Come. Let’s stretch our legs a bit.”

  They began walking along the path that skirted the lake. It was a fairly large body, perhaps a mile across, but the water appeared as a sheen of dark blue, barely a ripple visible on the surface.

  Kelsey broke the silence. “You said it yourself. You don’t control things here, none of you. You’re bystanders. So what’s the point? What purpose do you serve?”

  “We are more than bystanders. But we also do not, so to speak, play God here. War, genocide, disease—we see it all. We cannot cure cancer or stop a serial killer. We must accept the natural cycle of death and destruction, rebirth and growth. Are we mere bystanders? In a sense, yes. We largely do not interfere. But the Guides here? They are integral to what happens next to the millions of living souls under our charge at any given moment.”

  “How? What exactly do the Guides do?”

  “That will have to wait, Commander. All in good time. We have a threshold to cross first.”

  “Why would I want this?”

  “Perhaps that is a question for Sam, as he has been serving here even longer than I. He, too, was resistant at first, I am told. But he and I, and everyone else who is here, is serving by choice. We do so because it is the highest privilege, as you will learn.”

  Wozniak gave him a playful smile. “That, and the benefits are exceptional.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, you can serve ice cream to children anytime you want.”

  Kelsey stopped walking. “Are you kidding?”

  “We all have our passions, Commander,” Wozniak replied, continuing along the path.

  Kelsey quickened his pace again and caught up. “Ice cream. Great. What else?”

  “Well, Commander, before I tell you that, I need to explain one last thing to you. Whether you accept this offer or not, you will be returning to Hawaii.”

  Kelsey turned sharply to the man, thoroughly baffled again. He touched Wozniak’s arm and the two men paused on the path.