by Leona Fox
“It doesn't matter who you are. You're not Andy and you never will be. I love him, and I'm a one-woman man.”
At this Paul bowed his head and shook it slowly from side to side. His breathing became labored and deep, and Ellen was curious as to what was happening. For a moment she wondered if he was having some sort of attack. She was about to reach across the table to check on him when Paul bolted upright, startling Ellen. Paul rose from his chair and adjusted his posture, mimicking Andy's walk. He strode across the floor of the cafe and then returned to the table, sitting the same way that Andy would sit. He began speaking about the case.
“This gas bandit is really tough to catch. I don't know if we're ever going to get to the bottom of this,” he said, matching the cadence and tone of Andy's voice.
It was incredibly unsettling for Ellen to see so much of the man she loved in Paul, a man who she was at best indifferent to. Through her eyes she could see it was Paul and yet the things he was doing were so much like Andy that it confused her momentarily. The change was remarkable, and as quickly as Paul had become Andy, he changed back again.
“You see, I can become anyone I want,” he said, although there was a poignancy behind his smile. He then looked away, casting his eyes down to the floor as he pursed his lips.
“I think perhaps I have overstayed my welcome here. I shall take my leave of you now. But before I go I want to know about Andy's past. If this film is a success there will be sequels and they're going to go into the tragedy of what happened. That promise is what first drew me to the role. I understand why Andy does not want to talk about it but I need to know so I can prepare. My career may depend on it.”
For the first time, Ellen got the impression Paul was being serious, as rather than wearing his aloof, smug expression, he was looking at her earnestly. At least he had some integrity when it came to acting. It was clear his career meant a great deal to him, in contrast to everything else in life. However, it was asking too much of Ellen.
“I understand why you need to know but it's not my information to give. If you want to know about that stuff you're going to have to get Andy to tell you himself.”
Paul gave her a grim laugh. “Thanks for the help anyway, what you told me has been...enlightening,” he said, and with that he left the cafe, leaving Ellen with her own thoughts.
His conversation with Ellen had not resulted in the things Paul had wanted, but it had given him an insight into their relationship, which was always useful. Although by now the wholesome goodness of East Pender was wearing thin and, as much as he admired this quality, he was missing the edge of L.A., and all the devilish delights the city of angels had to offer. He fully believed that if someone stayed in a place long enough they started to become that place and it was incredibly difficult to escape. He was envious of Andy for being able to begin a new life, but he saw no such fate for himself. As he walked through the streets of East Pender he resigned himself to the knowledge he never could live in a place like this. The quaint life he envisioned for himself never would come to pass. Then he approached Andy's house, and he had other things to worry about.
When Andy opened the door he made no effort to hide his expression of disdain and disappointment upon seeing Paul standing there.
“Evening,” Paul said.
“What do you want?” Andy asked defensively.
“I've spoken to pretty much everyone in town and I think I have most of what I need. So I'll be out of your hair soon, but there's something else I need to know about and I know you're not going to like it. I just spoke with Ellen and she wouldn't tell me anything about your past, but please Andy, I want this role so badly. I think the material in it could transform my career. I want to be taken seriously, you know? I want to be up there with the very best. I know I can be, and this character can take me there. Please, just talk to me about what happened so I know the thought process.”
“That character isn't me,” Andy said with a clenched jaw, “my brother...he made all that up.”
“All of it?” Paul challenged. Andy glared at him icily and stepped forward, lowering his tone until it was practically a growl.
“Whatever happened back then I got through it, okay? I want to leave that in the past. You're fortunate I indulged you this far. I'm not going to do it any further. Some things have to remain private. I was just an inspiration for that character. I'm not him. I never was, and I never will be, and the sooner you realize that the better you'll be. Use what you've learned if you like, but as far as I'm concerned you can do whatever you want with the role. If I ever watch the movie I'm not going to be sitting there worrying about whether it's like me or not, because it won't be. Now I suggest you get in your car and you go back to Hollywood because we're done here.”
Andy emphatically slammed the door in Paul's face. The actor remained there for a few moments, then turned and walked away into the night, frustrated he hadn't managed to get what he needed, but there was only so much he could do.
Meanwhile, back inside, Andy stood leaning against the door he just had closed. The anger was boiling in his blood and he had to take a number of deep breaths to calm himself down. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then cupped his face in his hands, trying to escape from everything. His fist curled into a ball and it slammed against the door three times before he finally pushed himself off and walked back into the house, into the kitchen. He opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, staring at it grimly as he poured the golden liquid into a stout glass and slammed it back down his throat. He coughed and winced, then left the bottle.
He had taken so long to move on from his past yet he kept being dragged back, and it was all he could do to keep himself together. Paul sniffing around had been bad enough, especially since Ellen had insisted on him indulging the actor. He knew it had been a mistake from the start but he hadn't wanted to appear petulant in front of her, because he knew how much she wanted him to show that the past didn't affect him anymore. Yet it did...it kept coming back no matter how much he tried to forge a new path for himself. That damn case always would come back. It pursued him relentlessly like time itself, and there was no refuge from it.
With a heavy sigh he lurched from the kitchen to the office. The taste of whiskey lingered on his breath but the intoxicating effect was not strong enough, but it couldn't be. He had to be strong and resist. Already his demons had threatened to ruin his life once before. It wouldn't happen again. It couldn't. But there was only so much a man could take. The people of the town were hounding him about the gas bandit and there was no respite.
He walked to a filing cabinet and opened a drawer, then reached in the back to a folder that held within it typed letters. Over the past few weeks Andy had been receiving these yet had not told anyone about it. It pained him because he knew Ellen deserved to know but he didn't want her to worry. He sat down at his desk and looked through them again. Painful reminders of what had happened. Newspaper clippings. Somebody wanted him to remember his mistake and make him relive the tragedy all over again, but who? Who had tracked him down to East Pender? As far as he knew he was the only person who still even thought about the case, but somebody else evidently did, and it played on his mind to a great extent.
Was he always to be tortured like this? To never be allowed to forget? Yes, a child had died because he hadn't been there to save them, but was it fair that he never was allowed to be at peace himself? Rage boiled within and in a fit of anger he swept the papers off his desk. They fell to the floor, floating through the air. Andy sat with his head in his hands, clutching his hair, wishing for this endless nightmare to be over.
Chapter 8
While the gas bandit had been terrorizing the town and Ellen and Andy had been preoccupied with that and the constant irritant that was Paul, Kelly had been hiding herself away. She had heard Ellen knock on her door and call out to her, and it pained her to have to ignore Ellen's efforts to come inside, but Kelly needed to be alone. Her barriers were up and, although she appreciated
Ellen for wanting to comfort her, all she needed to do was stay inside and paint. It was the only thing that ever had helped her work through her emotions. All through her life she had tried to be as upbeat and breezy as possible. This led some people to believe she was ditsy and lived in a world of her own making. Actually, it was just Kelly's way of trying to preserve her own sanity, for she felt things so deeply and was so empathetic that her entire body throbbed with pain in times of emotional anguish, and to be in the world was to torment herself.
She remembered back to her first breakup. Causing her boyfriend to break down in tears was a revelatory experience. It forced her to question the way she interacted with people. Not only did she bear her own pain after the breakup, but the pain of her jilted lover as well. It caused her to withdraw for the better part of a year. Throughout her adult life she had tried keeping her distance from strong romantic entanglements because she knew they only ever would end in one way, with her being hurt, and she wanted to avoid that pain as much as possible. It was human nature, after all.
This was especially true after her secret, for she knew she never would be able to reveal it to anybody. It had been truly difficult in some instances, like with Ellen. Then Matthew had come along in all his handsome glory. At first Kelly figured it was just going to be a casual thing. After all, he just was coming off a divorce, but quickly it had turned into something more, something she hadn't expected. To her surprise she found it was good and she liked it, but always at the back of her mind there was the niggling, twisting reminder of her secret. So no matter how close they became there was still a part of her that was hidden from him, and he never would know her true nature.
Lost in an abyss of her own making, she was surrounded by the paintings she had made. She laughed morbidly, sneering at the things she had created, for she knew they all were worthless without Matthew. She missed him dearly, despite her best intentions. She tried to harden her heart against the anguish but it was impossible to do, and she didn't want to live her life without him. She had come so close to having something wonderful that she didn't want to let it slip through her grasp. She wanted to be better than that, so she battled with her own soul and wrenched the courage to tell him.
As though she were in a trance, she showered and dressed and made her way out of the house into the fresh air, which was a foreign taste on her tongue. The things she had to say were running through her mind, and she only hoped she would have the strength to say them when she saw him. For so long she had been trapped by the one thing she never could tell anybody. She knew the only way she could be free was to let it go, and even if Matthew did shun her for being a fraud at least she would be better in her own mind. It was perhaps the most difficult thing she ever had done, and as she drew closer to Matthew's home she had to force herself to continue.
Matthew found it impossible to hide his delight upon seeing her and welcomed her in, expressing concern for her well-being. Kelly's face was drawn and she wasn't her usual exuberant self. She staggered through to the lounge where Matthew joined her, sitting on opposite ends of the couch.
“I have something to tell you, and it's very difficult for me. So I'd appreciate it if you just let me talk and I'll try getting through it as best I can,” she said, and Matthew nodded. Kelly took a deep breath and summoned the willpower to dredge up the secret she had been holding onto for so long.
“Obviously you know I'm an artist. It was all I really wanted to be when I was younger. What you don't know is that in all the art classes I took I always was told I wasn't good enough to make a living at it, and sadly they were proven right. But then, one day, I won the lottery and I was able to use that money to live off while I painted. People think I am a professional artist but I'm not. I make a little bit of money off of it but mostly my income still comes from that lottery win. Up until now I've never told anyone because I feel so ashamed. I'm a fraud, a pretender, and that's why I was so distant from you, because you loved me so much and I didn't want you to look at me differently. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through but that's my story. I'm just someone who got lucky once,” she said. She practically was trembling at having revealed the secret that had resided within her for so long.
Matthew listened to her patiently. Kelly was looking into space. He sidled along the couch and took her hand, which seemed to startle her. She had been expecting him to pull away, and yet he still was sitting beside her, looking at her lovingly, with adoration in his eyes. When he spoke it was with a slow, soothing tone. All he wanted was to quell the anxiety that was causing her entire body to quiver.
“Thank you for telling me that. I can't imagine how hard it has been for you to keep that inside, but I have to admit I don't fully understand why it was such a big deal.”
“Because all this time I've been pretending I've been an artist when really I was just a fool who got lucky. Everyone always says how much they admire me for never giving up on my dream, when really I never had to work hard for it, I never had to struggle and strive like so many others. It's just all been easy for me. I haven't deserved it. I haven't earned it.”
“Yes, you have. I don't care what you say but you are a good artist and whomever told you otherwise is wrong. The lottery win may have allowed you to be comfortable in life but you've still painted, you've still sold paintings. It would have been easier for you just to give up and laze around doing nothing, wasting your life away, but you've carried on and persevered with your talent because it's what you were born to do. That makes you an artist in my eyes, and nothing is going to convince me otherwise,” he said.
Then he swiveled off the couch and went down onto his knee, still holding her hand. His eyes met with hers. “By telling me this you've shown me you want to be with me. Maybe this is too much again and I'm being a fool for pushing you, but this time apart has proved to me this is real. I want to be with you Kelly, properly. I want to marry you and create a life for you. I don't want there to be any secrets between us again. What do you think?”
The way he had accepted her secret so gladly made Kelly feel overwhelmed with joy. She burst into tears as she flung her arms around him.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” she cried, and the two of them fell to the floor in a happy embrace.
The tension of their recent arguments gave way to relief and they had repaired the fracture that had been present between them. Kelly felt whole again, and was ashamed her secret had prevented her from living life. Now that she had been freed she was eager to begin anew with Matthew, and her mind was excited at the prospects of the future.
However, secrets still reigned in East Pender and Andy's was eating him up inside. He barely could concentrate with everything that was going on and it all was playing on his mind. There was even no comfort found in Ellen's arms. Andy hated himself for this because he had promised himself he wouldn't let it affect the thing most precious to him – his relationship with Ellen. She knew that something was up, but when questioned he only said it was the case or Paul, never did he consider telling her the truth. If only it would just go away...but nothing was ever that simple. Ellen tried to talk with him about Paul, and he told her the actor had come to his house to ask about his past.
“I didn't tell him anything because I figured you'd want to be the one,” Ellen said.
“Thanks, I didn't tell him anything either. I just want to leave that all behind me,” he said, but as the lies flowed from his mouth he felt himself getting angry and all he wanted to do was scream and shout. Feeling restless, he paced about the apartment and, in the end, decided to take Scampy for a walk, figuring he may as well do something useful with his time.
Night was setting in and the town of East Pender was quiet and peaceful. The streets were empty and Andy was alone with his thoughts, which was the last place he wanted to be. He was looking in every shadowy corner, afraid somebody would be looking back at him. Receiving letters at his home made him feel vulnerable. Somebody knew where he lived. So far he only had
received letters, but he knew in these cases it rarely stayed at that level, usually escalating to something far creepier. His instincts were primed and he was ready in case anything attacked, but while on the walk he saw nothing.
Scampy was untroubled, and the two of them strolled aimlessly through the streets. It was his town, Andy thought. Yet he was feeling as though he was losing his grip on it. The gas bandit was running rampant and making him look like a fool. Would this finally be the case where somebody got away? And what if the truth came out about those letters? As far as most people in East Pender were aware, the events depicted in his brother's books were fictional. It was only Ellen, Kelly, and now Paul who knew about them. So at least he could rule out anyone in East Pender sending the letters. Unless, of course, somebody had looked into his life as a cop, but that seemed unlikely as most people in East Pender didn't spare much thought for the outside world.
As the two of them strolled along, Andy was looking mindlessly around him, letting his feet guide him. There was no particular destination in mind, and Scampy was happy enough walking with his nose touching the ground, enjoying the various scents in the evening air. It was only when Andy rounded a corner that he stiffened and his police instincts kicked in. Across the road, in the shadows, he saw a hidden figure moving. Andy knelt behind a car, and gestured for Scampy to sit beside him. Andy watched intently as this mysterious figure siphoned off more gas, and Andy smiled. It had been due to sheer dumb luck, but finally he had come across the gas bandit. Wasting no time, he sprinted across the road and announced himself. The bandit looked up, startled, and moved to run but Andy was too quick and strong. He quickly apprehended the man and pushed him to the ground. As Andy arrested him he saw that it was Ryan, the young farmhand, who was apologizing profusely. Andy had many questions for him but they would have to wait for the station. He called in for a car to take them back, and then quickly called Ellen to let her know he had caught the bandit red-handed.