Tumbleweed Logic

by ZaneDoe

Lena locked the door to Dead People’s Stuff and headed for her favorite café bakery where she would pick up a coffee and her usual bakery goods, which included day-old bread for the seagulls. She kept the top down on the vintage Karmann Ghia so she could feel the cool sea air against her face and toss pieces of the day-old bread up to the seagulls that formed a squawking canopy over the little car. They followed Lena home to her cottage hence the little black car was perpetually speckled with white seagull droppings. She washed the car; they redecorated it.

  Pepper and Lena had their routine down pat: Lena changed her clothes, leashed Pepper, grabbed the mail and off they went to the beach. Lena relaxed on the bench, sipped coffee and read her mail while Pepper ran on the beach searching for every dead thing that washed up or fell from the sky.

  The routine started out the same that grievous day. Pepper was doing the excited let’s-go-to-the-beach ritual dance which looped from wherever Lena happened to be in the cottage to where his leash hung from the wall. He was never subtle about his wants or needs--never. He would fix a Rasputin stare that was unbreakable on the cookie jar until Lena, or someone else, indulged him. He didn’t like large hats or excessive clown-like make-up on women and he let them know. He was born with this bravado; it wasn’t something he learned from Lena and she found him and his antics continuously amusing. Lena hit the play button on the answering machine and listened to her messages while changing clothes. There was a message from an overly friendly salesman, three hang ups and two messages to go while she clipped the leash to Pepper’s collar. She opened the door and Pepper made a tightrope out of the sagging leash.

  “Lena, this is Ted.”

  Ted? She was pleasantly surprised. His voice was shaky. Ted took an audible breath and continued.

  “I’m sorry to tell you this over the phone, particularly on your machine, Lena. I called the store but there was no answer.” Again, he paused. “Lauren is dead.” Immediately Ted began to sob. “Call me, Lena. I’ll be at the shop tonight. Call me there. Jesus…” and Ted’s voice trailed off in tears.

  Lena stepped back inside the door. It felt as if the blood had drained from her body. She leaned back against the wall to steady her balance then slid down onto the floor. The voice in her head said Get up, call Ted. But she didn’t. She turned the thought off as if changing the channel on the radio. Change the channel and you don’t have to listen to that horrible song. She didn’t respond to Ted’s request but instead responded to Pepper’s. Lena stood back up to continued their daily pilgrimage to the beach.

  As with every other time, Pepper ran off towards the shore and Lena took her place on the bench. Pepper dug in the sand, rolled on dead things and chased waves as Lena sat motionless, trying not to think or feel. She was doing a good job of it. The sun began its decent into the ocean, the fog crept in and soon Pepper was barking a reminder that it was time to go home. He rested his floppy wet jowls on her thigh, emitting little spurts of whining until Lena finally responded. She leaned over to hug him. “Sorry Pepper.” The pungent odor from steam rolling seaweed and dead things on the seashore hit her like smelling salts. “Eh, Pepper. My God, you stink!”

  Lena preferred not to make the drive alone so Ted and his father, Randolph, drove to Monterey to pick her up and the three would ride together to attend the services for Lauren. They drove off in Randolph’s sluggish K car. Not a word was spoken regarding Lauren--odd, but somehow it made the ride more comfortable. Lena was a functioning void, doing only what she needed to do with her mind solely on the task at hand. Few complex or creative thoughts passed through her head; she felt physically and mentally numb.

  It was a long drive to the small northern California town where Lauren had lived, and died. They would join Lauren’s family and friends at the funeral home. And it was there that Lena would meet the man who reportedly found Lauren and attempted to save her life. Ted was relatively quiet on the ride up and, surprisingly, so was Randolph. Ted’s father was a constant debater. He retired from his job as a research scientist, though Randolph never really considered himself retired. He still had voluminous ideas and theories--scientific and otherwise--he felt compelled to share or debate with anyone who would willingly--or not so willingly--lend him an ear. Few had adequate knowledge and even less had interest in his subjects or theories but that never stopped Randolph. Most people initially tolerated the nomadic pedagogue out of respect for his accomplishments and age, but patience wore thin quickly even with the most charitable of listeners. Lena had staying power when it came to Randolph and Randolph took full advantage. Even with her limited knowledge, she managed to participate in extended debates--fodder for a good friendship when it came to Randolph.

  Randolph managed to maintain center stage the entire ride. He spent his verbal energy on the light and simple: he commented on the surrounding terrain, named trees, read signs and informed Ted of up-and-coming traffic signals. Even on this somber ride Lena found moments of amusement from Randolph. “Millet, population…” Randolph read the sign as they passed and entered the main street. He read aloud directions to the funeral home that were scribbled on a sheet of paper and Ted gave fragmented responses to Randolph’s unsolicited help. They arrived at the designated location where a bland metal building appeared more like a meeting hall than a funeral home.

  Lena immediately noticed Lauren’s father standing among those gathered at the building entrance. Ben was known for his particular caliber of easygoing strength, where others lost their stability and heads in chaos, he held strong--it was a major reason for his financial success. Ben calmed the waters and made sure everyone was afloat but Ben now looked as if he were drowning. The sight brought Lena closer to the reality of Lauren’s death.

  Respectfully, and in a soft voice, Lena called his name, “Ben.”

  He reached for her. His embrace was strong, too strong.

  “A mint?” the funeral home director interrupted. “Would you like a mint?”

  Surprised and puzzled, Lena’s response was curt. “A mint? No. I don’t want a mint.” She looked him up and down with a subtle shudder. He seriously resembled a corpse, an animated corpse. The man was sickly looking, ashen, with his hair waxed into place. His suit was obviously tailored for somebody else. With a large glass bowl filled with butter mints, he moved on to the others with the same offering. Lena assumed if the funeral director decided to mingle about that he would offer words of sympathy and comfort, not after-dinner mints. All declined his irreverent offer, all but one scraggly man unfamiliar to Lena. He seemed pleased with the offer and dug right in.

  Ben and Lena stood silently waiting, watching for people to arrive. So few did.

  “Lena?” a voice whispered from behind.

  “Diana!” It was Lauren’s sister and Lena was delighted. They spontaneously smiled to a laugh. It had been a long time since seeing each other and having shared so many laughs together in the past, with or without Lauren, that regardless of the grim circumstance that facilitated their reunion it was a joyous one. They embraced, stepped back, looked each other up and down, exchanged compliments and embraced again. They excused themselves to find a bathroom since Ben’s attention had turned to Ted and Randolph.

  The interior of the building only slightly resembled a funeral home and had the strong smell of carnations.

  “Let’s make this fast, Diana. I hate the smell of carnations.”

  “You do? Why?”

  “Not sure.”

  “I don’t like it either but I’m not sure why either. Funny huh?”

  They found the ladies room and hurried into the stalls. Placed on the back of the toilets were brochures on pre-planned funeral arrangements.

  “Diana,” Lena spoke in a low voice from inside the stall, “are there brochures sitting on the back of your toilet?”

  “Let me see,” she answered. “Yes! Shit! Can you believe it!”

  “I guess we are supposed to pick out a fune
ral plan and casket while we grace their commode.”

  “Holy crap, how tacky.” Diana snickered. “Lauren would have loved this.”

  “Yeah, she would have.” Lena imagined Lauren in another stall shouting, “Which casket ya want Geezer, Lily White or Forever Mahogany?”

  A rather large smiling face met them as they left the bathroom.

  “Hello Ladies,” said a middle-aged extremely overweight woman. Assuming she was associated with the funeral home, Lena and Diana rushed passed her for fear of a sales pitch for funeral plans and coffins. In unison, they looked back as they exited the doors to see if she had followed.

  “Whew!” Diana brushed her forehead. “Close call. Who the hell does that?”

  “This place gives me the creeps,” Lena commented and shrugged with a symbolic shiver. “The funeral guy looks like a corpse; did you see him?”

  Diana smiled. “Yeah, he offered me candy, in a bowl. Mints or something.” She looked around, scanning the exterior of the building. “I thought it would be like a church, certainly something different from this.”

  “So did I; this place looks like it doubles as a bingo parlor or some kind of storage facility.”

  “It is a storage place, of sorts.” Diana skewed her mouth. “Love the warm atmosphere,” she added with sarcasm.

  Lena did a quick grin. She was right on. The place lacked everything expected for such an occasion, mostly a feeling of warmth and comfort for the bereaved.

  Lena inspected the sparse gathering, disappointed by the turnout.

  “I certainly expected more people, Diana.”

  “You would think so. Lauren spent her life being a good friend to so many people.”

  “To say the least. Maybe, maybe it’s because it was so sudden.”

  “Isn’t most death sudden?” Diana’s question was rather a statement.

  “Not necessarily. There’s so few people showing up. It’s Lauren, for God’s sake: Friend to everyone, enemy to none. Didn’t she have friends here in Millet?”

  It was all too sudden and too much to take in or believe at this point. Lauren died. She was cremated immediately and they were gathered to take her ashes. Hardly time to assimilate the tragedy and it was about over.

  “Well, just wait Lena, more might show up.”

  “Diana,” this was an uncomfortable but necessary question for Lena to ask, “I feel, well, I shouldn’t be asking this, but, I have to.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t actually know what killed Lauren. I really don’t. It feels weird to even say that, almost disrespectful but I don’t know. Was it a seizure?”

  Diana turned to make eye contact with Lena and her eyes showed understanding not surprise. She agreed with Lena.

  Odd response, Lena thought but waited for her to continue.

  “It’s the exact same with me, Lena. This all feels like a bad dream and I’m waiting to wake up.”

  As she paused Lena interjected, “I mean, I really don’t know why Lauren died, Diana. I don’t mean that philosophically. I don’t know what killed her. I truly don’t know.”

  “I understand. I know what you meant. I can tell you what I was told. I was told that Lauren was found by the river by that guy, Greely.” Diana pointed to the tall scraggly man and continued, “You see the guy over there with Ted?” The bowl of mints was sitting on a folding chair by the stranger and he was dipping into them as if they were peanuts on the counter of a bar.

  “So that’s Greely, the man who found her?”

  They both turned to face him. Diana answered, “Yes, that’s Greely. Dad introduced me to him; he’s the one who tried to save her life.”

  “And he did what? He found her? Was she by herself? I mean, what happened? How did he try and save her life? Mostly, why did she need saving? What happened? Was she swimming and had a seizure? A seizure from what? What the hell happened, Diana?” And Lena continued to ask a multitude of questions while still staring at Greely.

  Ted had explained something, whether brief or in extended detail, Lena couldn’t remember; she barely possessed the wherewithal to ask questions at the time. She remembered him saying something about a seizure and something about her being by a river. She remembered bits and pieces which now were not piecing together. Lena felt tormented by her ignorance. She stared at the failed hero as he rapidly depleted the bowl of mints and waited for Diana to explain further.

  “I guess, I’m assuming, he gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,” she answered uncertain, “or he rushed her to the hospital, maybe that’s how he tried to save her.” Diana responded to the news of Lauren’s death in much the same way as Lena. Asking for specifics at the time was as uncharted as Lauren’s death. “When dad called, he said that he found her, the guy Greely. I don’t know, Lena, I didn’t ask many questions. I should have, I know but, I still can’t believe all this. I can’t bring myself to ask Dad in his state about the details. You saw him. He’s like a zombie. I’m sorry; I wish I had more to tell you. I’m just riding this nightmare out, Lena, just riding it out the best I can.”

  “It was enough to hear Ted say she was dead. I know he said she was found by a river. Fuck, you’d think I would know every detail. I was just numb, in denial I guess, not wanting to believe it. I don’t know. He said something about a seizure. I didn’t ask what caused the seizure. Hell, I didn’t say much of anything. I felt just sick. Numb. Brain dead I guess.”

  Diana replied apologetically, “I should know myself. How weird is all of this. Dad knows everything but he isn’t freely talking about anything right now and, like I said, I can’t bring myself to even ask. God, I sound awful don’t I?”

  “No, no. Definitely not awful. How does anyone know how they’ll react to something like this? I always thought I’d be strong, take charge in a tragedy--help others. Instead, I went numb, I didn’t even think of others. I got the message and walked Pepper to the beach.” Lena looked back at Greely and asked Diana if Lauren and Greely were friends.

  “I think Dad said he was a friend of hers but she knew so many people, had so many friends, so I don’t know if they were close friends or not. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “Should I talk to him, ask him now?”

  “Actually,” Diana corrected herself, “what am I thinking? I’m sorry, not now, wait until later.”

  Lena nodded in agreement then added, “Lauren didn’t live by a river.”

  “She was living or going to be living in a cabin. Maybe that was by a river.”

  “No, that was one of Scott’s cabins. There’s no river by his cabins.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been there. But let’s just drop this, at least for now. I have too many questions, and I guess, this just isn’t the time to get answers.”

  Diana agreed and put her arm through Lena’s. Together they strolled off catching up on each other’s current lives.

  Ben approached those standing about with the agenda, his voice strained from his efforts to be responsive and in control, “We are all going to regroup at a local restaurant, one that Greely has suggested. He knows the area.…”

  Lena’s heart ached as she listened to Ben. The patriarch’s voice quivered as he deferred to the tall hunched stranger who towered over him with a grin on his face.

  “You all can fallah mey,” Greely said as he observed everyone watching him.

  Lena got her first good look at Greely’s face. She felt an immediate repulsion instead of gratitude toward the man who tried to save Lauren’s life. In quick analysis, she felt that maybe his slovenly appearance at Lauren’s memorial is what put her off and provoked her instant negative feeling for the stranger--though she did notice that Randolph was observing Greely with that distinctive expression he displays when analyzing a troublesome factor in an equation. He had been speaking with Greely, she figured he knew something of significance that she didn’t.

  The man from t
he funeral home stepped from the building holding a cardboard box. Conversations stopped as he approached Ben. He lightly shook the box before handing it to Ben. Suspecting the bland packing box contained Lauren’s ashes, both Diana and Lena paused in appalled surprise--another indecorous gesture of the funeral director. Leaning into Diana, Lena whispered, “Tell me it’s not.”

  “I hope Lauren’s not missing this,” Diana responded in a hushed voice with a subdued smile that matched Lena’s.

  Ben and the director exchanged a few words and shook hands.

  “A hamster comes in a more attractive box than that,” Lena commented, shaking her head while trying to mask her smile, then asked, “Do human ashes normally come in a box like that? Aren’t they supposed to come in a vase type thing?”

  “I don’t know. God, it’s like a UPS box or something.” Diana knew Lauren would have loved it since she always found such uncontrollable laugh-out-loud joy in the irreverent, unexpected or inappropriate.

  “Yeah, ‘Don’t toss that box, we can use it for Mr. Jones,’” Lena mocked and Diana lowered her head to hide the titter.

  Everyone dispersed without much ado to the various vehicles. Ben placed the box on the seat of his car and waited with the others for Greely to lead the way. Greely had difficulty starting his old truck, and where Randolph would typically rush to give advice, he didn’t budge-- neither did Ted. Lena thought it odd yet that she felt no desire to assist Greely herself, even if she could. There was an uncomfortable, almost disturbing feel about Greely. No one spoke as they sat in the car waiting, eyes fixed on Greely. After repeated tries to start the rusted multicolored truck with its fair share of dents, Greely got out, lifted the hood and adjusted something in the engine. Whatever he did, it fixed the problem and the truck started right up. He leaned out the window, waved for the others to follow and drove off leaving a trail of gray-blue smoke.

  Everyone followed the gray-blue smoke onto the main street of Millet where he pulled up to the front of a small coffee shop that was withered like an old billboard no one had bothered to take down. It was dubious whether it was still functioning as a business. What paint had not yet peeled away was faded to a stain. It took more than a casual glance to read what had once proudly promoted Millet’s Fine Coffee Shop.

  Everyone continued to take Greely’s lead as he grabbed the wobbly doors to the coffee shop and swung them open with more force than necessary. Randolph stopped in his tracks, fully expecting the doors to fall from the tattered hinges but they bounced back still attached. Randolph didn’t do what came natural to him--a good chastising to the establishment about the potential dangers of the barely held-together doors, including explicit repair instructions. He seemed focused on Greely as Greely pushed through the second set of rickety doors, ahead of everyone, including Ben, which Lena found disrespectful. He rudely let them swing shut on the next person to follow. The restaurant was empty aside from one cook and one waitress and it was obvious neither was thrilled to see Greely.

  Lena looked around, wondering why he chose this run-down coffee shop for such an occasion, particularly when he didn’t seem to be welcome by the scant staff. Lena gave a warm and friendly good afternoon to the waitress and smiled at the cook. The cook half smiled back. Ben asked about a table that was large enough for them to all sit together. Lena kept smiling, trying to offset the chilly reception and the uneasy quiet of the vacant coffee shop--the day was strange and difficult enough without adding to it. The waitress pointed to two tables set side by side. She gave the group a once over, avoiding eye contact with Greely, then in a pleasant tone asked if anyone wanted coffee. She informed that if anyone wanted coffee, she would “have to make a pot,” that’s if anyone wanted any. Visions of stale prepackaged coffee brewed in a rarely used coffeepot with a greenish brown stain ring caused Lena, an avid coffee drinker, to pass though some of the others were up for the risk.

  Ben and Ted chose two tables closer to the window so they could take advantage of what light filtered through the dusty opaque glass. They pushed the tables together to make one and when they finished, the waitress, without apology, swatted the tables with a wet--what looked to be once white but now gray and germ laden--towel leaving large streaks and making the weathered surface even less appealing.

  The indifferent waitress gave Greely an icy stare as she passed, one that didn’t go unnoticed by either Lena or Randolph. With little said, the others arranged the chairs and chose their seats. Lena wanted Randolph to sit next to her so she quickly pulled out and offered the chair to her left; he obliged. She was pleased that Ben chose the chair to her right. With everyone seated, Ben looked at those gathered and expressed his gratitude for their attendance and particularly regarding the long trip. Their support kept him afloat, at least on this day, and from drowning in incapacitating sorrow.

  The waitress’s smile seemed to be forced as she handed out menus. She gave little response to Greely’s try for her attention. No one really looked at the menu other than Greely. He surprised and jolted the others when he blurted out loudly, “Got grilled cheese? I like grilled cheese!” Lena saw the cook shake his head in response to Greely’s loud demeanor among the poised relatively silent gathering. Greely turned the menu in his hand, making sure he didn’t miss anything, then in the same loud voice looked at Lena and asked with a big sparse-toothed grin, “Whatcha gunna order, Geezer?”

  Geezer was a nickname Lauren had given Lena. This led Lena to believe that Greely must have been friends with Lauren to know this tidbit of personal information. Still, his assumed familiarity was chafing for reasons she would have to contemplate at some other time. It took effort to respond but Lena smiled back at the rather scary looking Greely.

  “Maybe you should have something to eat, hon,” Ben interjected.

  “I’ll have toast, thanks.”

  The waitress readied herself to take everyone’s order. No one but Greely wanted to eat; coffee would do for the others and only toast for Lena. His appetite was in full gear and he ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with fries, salad if it came with it, and “a beeeg Coke an’ don’t put too much ice in it, ya know whatta mean,” he said looking directly at the waitress. She didn’t look back. She turned away and left with the order.

  Greely proceeded to give everyone the low-down on how restaurants add too much ice to reduce the soda content in the glass and make more profit off “you peoples.” A long period of silence followed. The profit margin on a glass of soda was hardly of concern to anyone at the table at such a time, except Greely. Randolph broke the silence with a bold and unexpected question.

  “With the permission of everyone here,” he said as he looked around the table at each person, “I would like to ask Greely about the day he found Lauren.” Randolph paused in a respectful wait for any possible adverse reaction to his request. He received reserved approval from the group.

  “Well, Greely,” he began, “would you like to enlighten us on what transpired the day of Lauren’s passing? I think we would all like to know just what happened. We all loved her. You were present; if you don’t mind.” He paused then asked calmly, “Just how were you involved?” Randolph leaned forward to attempt eye contact with Ben and assess his reaction. Ben’s eyes were on Greely. From a distance, and out of his view, the waitress was listening as if she too wanted to hear Greely’s response.

  Greely dove right into the story. Without sensibility or tact, he began at the point where he found Lauren--no homage or sympathetic precursor of friendship, no expression of sadness for her passing, just what he saw and what he did. Greely only stopped when the waitress placed the plate of food before him then he continued between bites of his sandwich, “‘fore it gets cold,” and gulps of his near ice-less soda. It was repulsive to Lena. The subject did not put the slightest damper on his appetite.

  In blunt simple and unceremonious words, he told of how he found Lauren by the river. He didn’t explain why he or she would have been by th
e river. He said that Lauren didn’t appear to be breathing. He tried to revive her, “to ressisitate her.” His detailed description of how he attempted to resuscitate Lauren was crass and caused most of the quiet listeners to shift in their seats and look away. Greely said he thought she might have been dead but he wasn’t sure. He then carried Lauren to his truck and along with his roommate, Billy, drove her to the hospital emergency room where a doctor proclaimed Lauren dead. He and Billy then had to go out and “drink it off.” Coarsely and without detectable emotion, he completed his story. Greely managed to, somehow, turn the subject to the troubles he had been having with his truck while the group silently struggled to comprehend the tragedy as told by Greely. Lena looked at Randolph. She knew he was thinking about the same thing she was--this isn’t how this story would go. No one brings a dead body into a hospital then just drives away.

  Greely finished the food on his plate and pushed it aside. Lena hadn’t touched her toast. A few sips of coffee passed through the lips of others. The atmosphere was still. Greely scanned the rather stunned faces at the table. He looked suddenly nervous, uncomfortable, though he was perfectly comfortable while talking of a tragedy that ripped at the hearts of everyone listening including the waitress and cook.

  “We was friends but we was more than friends,” Greely informed.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lena quickly shot back.

  “We was gonna be marrud.”

  “Who was going to be married?” Lena felt immediately angry.

  “We was,” Greely answered still watching the faces before him.

  Lena glanced at Ben, then Randolph. She looked directly at Ted, searching for a response. Lena believed the declaration preposterous and if no one else was going to confront it, then she would. Ben gently patted Lena’s knee under the table in a discreet request for her to remain calm. He had his own reasons for not dismissing Greely’s claim at the onset. Ben regretted the distance his new corporation and new wife had created with Lauren and was unfamiliar with Lauren’s recent social or love life. He was willing to listen to Greely without judgment, not so for Lena. She hadn’t been unfamiliar with Lauren’s social or love life and she felt Greely’s claim was absurd for a gamut of reasons, most of them obvious.

  Lauren and Lena had frequent and lengthy telephone conversations. Lena knew the attractive qualities of the bag boy where Lauren shopped, about the handsome man who walked the slobbering hound, the sweet mechanic who offered Lauren free advice and dinner. There was no mention of a man named Greely--the name alone would have been fodder for Lena to tease Lauren. From Lena’s observation, Greely possessed neither the personality nor charm to overshadow his chosen and blatantly unattractive exterior. In fact, Greely and Lauren weighed in on opposite ends of the scale. Greely looked unwashed with an ornery face--sallow, pitted and dirty. His dark eyes lacked life or expression. Even his smile held an unnerving sinister quality. He was just plain scary looking. His hair alone, with at least a week worth of sebum and dirt plastering it to his head, would have most women taking a step back, particularly in the romance department. Lauren was Greely’s opposite. Lauren’s black shiny hair loosely framed a pretty, pixie-like face. Her skin was remarkably fair and smooth, often described a kin to ivory (as a devout elephant lover, Lauren was always quick to respond “vegetable ivory” to this frequent compliment) and possessed a delicately freckled turned up nose. She was the bane of plastic surgeons--there was nothing one would change. Her impish smile was as recognizable and contagious as her laugh. Her eyes were vibrant and welcoming. This tall-disheveled ill-mannered stranger, with a good portion of his teeth missing, was hardly a complement to Lauren. Lena could not accept his claim and could hardly understand the silence of the others to such an outrageous statement.

  “When did this happen, Greely?” Ben politely asked while Lena clenched her lips to keep from interrupting.

  “It was gunna be a saprize.” Greely shifted in his chair. The stare from Lena was making him uncomfortable.

  “Did anyone here know Lauren was engaged?” Lena polled the table. “Did you Diana? Hope? Anyone?”

  Greely looked at each person as Lena asked.

  Only Diana responded; she shook her head to indicate a no.

  “So she never said anything to me or Diana, Greely. Was she keeping this a big secret?” Lena’s sarcasm was apparent. Again, Ben patted her leg to calm the situation and to keep others from becoming uneasy. Lena didn’t much care at that point.

  “Lena, I thought Lauren was moving in with someone but I never asked who,” Hope spoke up.

  “And you think it was Greely?” she asked the pointed question almost daring Hope to say yes. She looked at Randolph and knew she had at least one person at the table on the same page.

  “That was Scott, Hope,” Ted informed. “Scott was renting her one of his cabins.”

  “She been datin’ mey but,” Greely added, “I guess she never talk’d ‘bout mey.” He looked at Lena. “Huh, Geezer?”

  Lena couldn’t look at him.

  All the while the waitress and the cook were exchanging glances.

  “I guess she didn’t, Greely,” Randolph spoke. To hush Lena he held up his coffee cup for the waitress to see, indicating his desire for a refill. Her presence at the table halted conversation, exactly as Randolph hoped it would. She finished refilling Randolph’s cup and the subject of the engagement was also finished, which seemed to be what everyone wanted except Lena. The tension at the table eased, except with Lena, and with a subtle look, Randolph let Lena know he shared her concerns.

  Ben took a deep breath and folded his hands together. Greely quickly folded his hands together as if he were going to say a prayer and bowed his head. He thought that Ben was leading the table in a prayer but soon realized he was mistaken and dropped his hands, lifted his head and snickered.

  “Well, everyone, ready? Ready to leave?”

  Ben pushed away from the table, lifted his hand indicating he would take care of the bill, and left for the register. The waitress looked steadfast into Ben’s face as she handed him the tallied bill but Ben didn’t take notice, nor did he seem to notice the cook who was also looking directly at him from the narrow hallway. He left a large tip along with a verbal thank you and asked for directions to the men’s room. She pointed the way then glanced over to the cook who wore a disappointed expression and shook his head accordingly.

  The mood lightened considerably as the group mingled in front of the coffee shop. They chatted while they waited for Ben to join them. When Ben returned to the group, the topic became the fate of Lauren’s ashes. Lauren loved the beach and with the ocean not far from Millet, it was a sensible and unanimous decision. They next discussed riding arrangements. With this, Lena saw an opportunity.

  “Greely, would you mind if I rode with you?” She used the sweetest voice she could muster.

  “Sure, Geezer.” Greely stepped closer placing his hand on her shoulder by the back of her neck, an affectionate gesture from a friend if he had been one. His touch made her shudder inside. From what she had observed, he was not an individual she would have chosen to strike up a friendship--nor would have Lauren, in her opinion. She concealed her opposition to his chummy gesture and thanked him.

  Since many at the gathering hadn’t seen each other for quite some time, and with their final decision regarding Lauren’s ashes settled, they took time to catch up on each other’s lives. It was a much-needed temporary diversion for Ben and allowed him a brief time of light conversation. Without a word to the others, Lena walked off; she wanted a few minutes alone where Lauren might have spent the last moments of her life. Only Greely paid attention as she walked off, the others were busy in conversation.

  The smell of grease, cigarettes and gasoline permeated the cab of his truck. She climbed onto the passenger’s seat and immediately thought of what a sorry place this was for one to take their last breath in life. The thought was numbing. She
sat, eyes forward, looking on to the main street of Millet, her body rigged, tight from the inside out. She watched strangers cross the street in front of her. They looked back. Lena took deep breaths to calm herself, but in doing so had to suck in the sour air of the truck. She became nauseous and quickly rolled down the window for fresh air. Everything around Lena disgusted her at that moment: the shabby little town, the dirty truck, the expressionless stares of strangers. She felt angry than sad. Ben should have questioned Greely. Everyone at the table should have challenged his absurd claims. She didn’t understand why everyone was so accepting of everything, moving along like cattle in a herd and no one was stepping out of line. Lena slumped down against the seat. She was limp, as Lauren must have been while wedged in between Greely and Billy--according to Greely. In that position, the sky and the trees tops filled the windshield. It was a relief to think that maybe Lauren’s last view of life was a movie screen of treetops and blue sky.

  The truck door opened.

  “Whatcha doin?” Greely asked with a raspy laugh.

  “I’m not feeling well--but I’ll be okay.” She sat up. “Is everybody leaving for the beach now?”

  Greely climbed in behind the wheel. “Everyone is gunna meet at Lauren’s favorite beach.”

  Under the guise of getting better acquainted with the man Lauren wanted to marry, Lena believed this was her chance to get answers and, hopefully, clarity without interruption. She gathered her thoughts in preparation as Greely drove the truck slowly past Ted and Randolph, allowing them to follow if needed. Randolph suspected Lena’s motives for riding with Greely and he nodded a passive good luck as she passed by. She was never so grateful for Randolph’s presence as she was on this grievous occasion.

  The bluish smoke spewing from Greely’s truck was sucked into the cab. Lena rolled the window down as far as the deteriorating handle would allow. Eventually the scent of the redwoods carried on the wind masked the foul smell of the truck--a mixed blessing since the scent stirred memories of so many times spent with Lauren. Lena tapped the flat of her palms against her face to distract her and keep back the tears. This amused Greely.

  “Ya okay?” Greely snickered.

  “No.” She exhaled and pulled the collar of her blouse open so the air could cool her body. “Well, let’s talk Greely; keep my mind occupied.”

  “If ya want. ‘Bout what?”

  “Lauren. Let’s talk about Lauren.” She paused briefly then, in a compassionate tone, she continued, “I’m going to miss her beyond words. I can only imagine how much you are going to miss her too.” It was hard getting the words out in such a sincere manner.

  “Yeah, we was gunna be marrud, Yena.” He shook his head as though he found it difficult to believe that Lauren was gone.

  “I guess her marriage to you was going to be a surprise to everyone. Her first marriage was sort of a surprise too. I guess that was just her way.” She could tell by Greely’s expression that he wasn’t aware Lauren had been married previously. “By the way, it’s Lena with an L; my name is Lena.” She politely emphasized the correct pronunciation of her name.

  “I’ll just call ya Geezer.” Greely grinned familiarity.

  “That will only make me sad, Greely. You know, because that’s what Lauren called me. Just Lena is good, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t wanna make ya sad or nuthin’.”

  “Too late for that but I appreciate the thought.” It was hard being civil.

  “You don’t mind if I smoke do ya?”

  She did, the cab finally smelled decent, but said, “Go ahead.” Greely had an odd smell about him and she couldn’t pinpoint what it was but whatever it was it was mixed with cigarette smoke. She leaned closer to the open window. “Where did you plan to get married?”

  After taking a heavy first drag off his cigarette, Greely gave several places they thought about getting married, including the beach.

  “Mexico?” Lena asked of one the places he said they had considered.

  “Mexico or Lake Tahoe or Nahvada or maybe even back in Masurra. It wudda been a good weddin’ and you wudda been there, Geezer.”

  “I sure would have, wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Greely.” Lena realized, amongst all the emotional confusion, that reminiscing would serve as a good test. “Lauren and I had some great times together. I’m sure she told you about them, or some of them.”

  “She talked about ya, Yena; you was her best friend.”

  “It’s Lena, with an L.”

  “Ain’t that what I said?”

  Lena shook her head no.

  “So what did she tell you about me? I mean, we had so many adventures together I’m sure she told you about some of them.” Lena faked a smile.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Lotsa shit, ya know.”

  “I bet she told you about all those crazy times in Gallup. Crazy times, but those were good times.” Lena laughed as if fondly remembering.

  “Gallup, yep, she told mey lots a them stories.” He took his eyes off the road to look at Lena then made a comment as if he were privy to some saucy secrets from her past. “She told mey about you and her in them bars; you was wild, wild womens. Yep, she had a goooood ole time with ya, Geezer, you and her in Gallup, thems some real crazy times ahright.”

  Lauren once lived outside of Gallup, New Mexico but Lena had never been to Gallup to visit her. He could be lying or he could be confusing her with another friend of Lauren’s, so she pressed on.

  Lena smiled again as if in the midst of remembering. “Then she must have told you about the time we got lost in the desert outside of Gallup?” She turned to face him so she could watch his reaction. “When we wandered around in the dark, lost? Unbelievable.”

  “Maybe, tell more ‘bout it.”

  “It was pretty scary. Thank God for my dog, she found the way out. She got us out of there or we may have been lost for days. Who knows what might have happened. What a night; what an experience.”

  “What dog was that ya had?”

  “Shadow, a German shepherd.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I remember. You two cudda burned up out there!”

  “We were lucky to have Shadow with us on that trip. That was but one of our near misses. But she told you about that one, huh?”

  “She told mey. You was drunkin’ buddies.” Greely smiled. “Yeah, Lauren loved Shadow like she was her own dog. She said that, she said she loved that dog. Hell, that dog saved her life, saved her from bakun in the desert. The three of you wudda been cooked up.” He found humor in his comments.

  Lauren never met Lena’s dog, Shadow, in fact, it was in losing Shadow that brought about their first meeting and their lasting friendship.

  As a young girl, Lena came home from school to an open gate and a missing dog. She canvassed the area, running up and down streets and knocking on doors. The neighbors knew Shadow, in fact most were afraid of her, yet no one claimed to have seen her. Lena raced to check the park but no Shadow. She ran to the creek, slid down the bank into the dry creek bed and searched, calling out Shadow’s name in vain. She hurried to the local ice cream shop where her friend worked and often gave Shadow doggy-dips (the ice cream that falls between the cartons) but Shadow wasn’t there and no one had seen her. Lena ran back to the park for a second look. Again, she stood at the middle of the park desperately yelling Shadow’s name, too panicked to cry. This time she got a response, not from Shadow but a welcome response all the same.

  “Did you lose your dog?” the girl yelled from the bleachers. Lauren came to the park for the quiet, so she could read undisturbed.

  “Yes. She’s a German shepherd, black, long legs; did you see her?” Lena shouted back.

  “No, but I’ll help you look,” and Lauren hurried down the bleachers without hesitation. They met in the middle of the baseball diamond, introduced themselves and the two wasted no time in continuing the search. They spent hours--until after dark--searching for Shadow and in the
process got to know each other quite well.

  Lauren’s earnest enthusiasm to find Shadow alone would have endeared a lasting friendship for Lena but their bond was far more reaching. They shared an uncanny likeness that went beyond teenage commonality. During their search, they passed a squirrel lying dead in the road. Without a word, they simultaneously did the sign of the cross then looked at each other with the same smile. They both possessed a deep respect and love for animals and as baptized and catechism-card-carrying Catholics they proudly revered the same saint, St. Francis. They really didn’t know what any of the other saints ever did to obtain sainthood but St. Francis was kind to animals and that’s all they needed to know to make him a hero. They humorously discovered, at their young age, that they shared the same first love, not a minor issue for teenage girls. They both held prepubescent dreams of a future with the rebellious shaggy-hair boy who later went on to become a rock star. In the future they would cross his path several times together, which not only gave the two a good laugh but great relief that the dream never came true for either of them.

  They also shared the all-important comedic view of life’s acridity, a sense of humor that uniquely bonded them throughout their friendship. Bad luck and pitfalls brought compassionate words, often tears, but even more so, they were the impetus for jovial digs, puns, jokes and laughter. Time would lay bare a most disturbing connection: an accident that altered both their lives and an event they believed predestined their long and deep friendship.

  As a little girl, Lena was restricted to the street where she lived; she was not allowed to wander onto other streets by herself. With a backyard lemon tree that gave in abundance an easy-to-load product, the small entrepreneur filled her wagon and hit the street. She went from door to door attempting to sell her lemons. Since she couldn’t leave the street, she merely turned her little wagon around and began tapping on the same doors until all of her lemons were gone. The amused and sometimes annoyed neighbors eventually purchased all her lemons, to the joy of little Lena and her U-No Bar fund.

  As she pulled her wobbly wagon up the walkway of the last house at the end of the street, an exploding sound of metal crashing frightened her motionless. She watched the cars spin out of control and come to a mangled stop. In the pandemonium, Lena watched without censorship due a little girl. The innocent eyes that watched “Leave It To Beaver” and “Disney” fixed on the woman exposed and trapped within the twisted metal. Little girls recognize mothers, even when they are not their own. She stood transfixed on the mommy. Assuming she lived at the house where she stood with her wagon half full of lemons, the police brushed by her as they attended to the accident--as did the other adults dealing with the horror of the scene. The fabric used to cover the body acted like a sponge absorbing the blood like spilled ink, accentuating the tragic human figure beneath it. The image imprinted privately and permanently. A few hours and a few miles away, Lauren’s family began grieving the loss of Lauren’s mother. Unbeknown to Lauren and Lena, their life paths crossed for the first time that day.

 

  “We wuz gonna get us a dog once we wuz marrud.”

  “She told me she kept a picture of Shadow and me in her guitar case. Did you see it?” Lena asked.

  “Yup, I recognized ya, right away when I saw ya cuz of that picture. I knew who ya wuz from that picture, but where’s the dog. Ya got yer dog here with ya, at a hotel or somethin’? She said ya take her everywhere with ya.”

  Good guess she thought to herself. The picture was not a recognizable comparison to Lena’s present self. She was only fourteen years old in the picture and stick skinny wearing a cowboy hat that sat tilted on her head covering the majority of her face. Only Shadow was readily recognizable.

  “No,” she answered and by chance someone might bring up Pepper Lena added, “Shadow died……recently.”

  “Aaaah, ya lost yer puppy,” he wisecracked. He made an exaggerated expression of a crying man that he intended to be silly, yet Greely’s contorted face was disturbing, even frightening but not silly.

  Lena didn’t find the loss of a dog amusing which he gathered right away and quickly added, “I was jus’ kiddin’ ya Geezer, jus kiddin’!”

  Lena changed the subject.

  “How long had you been engaged, Greely? Where did you two meet?” Lena suspected specifics would make Greely uneasy, and it did.

  “We was in love, Lena. We’d fight, ya know, like couples do, ya know, but we was real happy….” He talked on, never answering her questions. It was very difficult for Lena to listen to Greely pontificate about their love and their mutual passion. To hide the possible show of her mounting disgust, Lena leaned her elbow out the window and rested her head upon her arm. Greely’s voice buzzed in the background like a swarm of mosquitoes. The cool wind pushing against her face distracted her, reminded her of being on a sailboat. She watched the trees whirl by, glad for a momentary escape. When Greely began describing a sexual encounter with Lauren, the momentary escape was over and Lena whipped her head back into the cab and cut him off.

  “Greely! Come on.”

  “Sorra, jus talkin’ ‘bout Lauren like ya wanted, ya asked.”

  Although his expression didn’t indicate a sorry, he stopped all the same. He had an evil though adolescent quality to him where she couldn’t discern whether he was clever with a stupid veneer or just plain stupid. Lena turned to face him.

  “What did she die from, Greely?”

  “I didn’t read the ahrtopsy report or nuthin.”

  “I’m not asking for medical terminology.”

  After a few minutes of tense silence Greely said, “She was kinda funny color when I found her, ya know.”

  “No I don’t know.” Again, she waited for him to answer her question but when he didn't she continued, “Didn’t anybody say anything to you, Greely? You were her fiancé. I mean, when she was pronounced dead, they didn’t say from what? Didn’t you ask?”

  “I was upset, ya know. I got myself good ‘n drunk, Geezer, shit. I wutn gunna stay in no hospital, I wutn gunna sit—she was dead, ya know, nuthin I could do.”

  “But they had to say something. Somebody had to say something. This is ridiculous----” she stopped herself. “Well, someone has to know something and I guess I’ll find out soon enough,” she corrected in a passive voice.

  “Her daddy knows,” he said.

  This surprised Lena, not that Ben knew but that Greely knew Ben knew yet skirted the answer himself.

  “But you don’t?” She was careful not to show sarcasm.

  “You ask her daddy.” Greely fixed his eyes back on the road.

  Conversation stopped. Both watched the road for the next few miles.

  Lena was the first to speak. “You are the only one she knows up here that came to her funeral—” she corrected herself, she wasn’t sure which one it was officially, “memorial.”

  Greely said nothing.

  “Why didn’t any of her friends show up, not even Scott? I thought they cared about her; they were her friends, right?”

  “Maybe they didn’t know. Lotta peoples hates funerals, ya know.”

  “Didn’t know? You didn’t call them and tell them?”

  “They cudda been all freaked out an’ all.”

  “I guess her life up here holds lots of surprises for me. You were the first one. But, anyway Greely, Lauren was so outgoing, friendly, she always had lots of friends, lots of people that loved her. I don’t understand them not coming to her funeral. You’re going to have to fill me in on her life up here." Lena knew most of what went on in Lauren’s life and was truly perplexed as to why her friends in Millet failed to make an appearance at the funeral home and even more perplexed why so many of her friends from out of the area failed to show.

  Greely pulled out another cigarette and took considerable time getting it lighted. He dragged on the cigarette then commented on how this was good country to live in
--good air, good hunting and so on.

  Lauren hated hunting, which was a well-known fact so Lena decided to use it. Lena continued her test

  “Did Lauren hunt with you?”

  “She was a purdy good shot.”

  “She hunted with you?” Lena repeated the question.

  “Yeah, we did lots a stuff together, huntin’, fishin’, motorcyle ridin.’”

  Motorcycle riding, yes. Fishing, maybe. But hunting was a definite no. He was lying.

  “Yeah, Lauren always was good at deer hunting,” Lena said with feigned sincerity rolling her eyes out of view. Another period of silence followed. Lena wished that Randolph had been in the truck with her, hearing what she was hearing.

  “Where’s ya boyfriend, Lena?” Greely asked, breaking the silence.

  “Did Lauren talk about Eric to you?” This was another chance to test Greely.

  “She mentioned him, was wonderin’ why he didn’t come to the funeral with ya.”

  “He’s in Spain again,” she said as if disappointed, “otherwise, he would have been here. We are sort of on and off, though.”

  Greely asked what he was doing in Spain and Lena fabricated a story that gave him enough information to spin another tale. He said Lauren had mentioned that Eric traveled. In truth, Eric was a devout recluse--his cat saw more outside miles in a year than he did. Eric was an artist who locked himself away from the world in his studio, which doubled as his home--an extremely private individual who was not fond of socializing. Eric was blessed with an inheritance that allowed him to live comfortably tucked away in Carmel Valley alone with his cat, canvas and privacy. Lena rarely spoke of Eric to anyone, including Lauren and Lauren had never met Eric. With their sequestered relationship, there wasn’t much to share with others. It’s the way Eric wanted it, the way they both savored it.

  By any account, Greely was lying and Lena was beyond curious as to why. She was afraid to come right out and ask him though it seemed the rational thing to do. Something told her to hold back, to continue as she was.

  “Datin’ anybody?” he asked.

  “No, too busy with my store. Let’s talk about Lauren, Greely, not me.”

  “Go ahead, talk. I’m listenin’ and I’m talkin’ too.” He grinned at Lena.

  “Tell me about you and Lauren, Greely, where you met. Stuff like that. I just want to hear about Lauren and about her life up here.”

  “Ya tryin’ ta make mey sad now, Geezer?”

  “Of course not, I just want to know about the life Lauren was living up here. You had to have been important in her life here and of course I want to know about this, this secret love she had; I can’t ask Lauren now.” Lena shifted on the hard seat trying to find a comfortable position and waited. His answer was slow coming and consisted of vague generalities like a long-drawn-out eulogy about the deceased given by a stranger.

  The Pacific came into glorious view like a breath of fresh air. Greely pulled onto the vista point. The others were not far behind and before long, one by one, they pulled in and parked in accordance with Greely’s truck. Once all had arrived, they gathered side by side at the edge of the cliff. The light salty breeze refreshed the weary spirits and the panoramic view of the ocean was mesmerizing. The moment invited silence, a silence Greely wasted no time disrupting. Over the soothing sounds of the ocean, Greely barked out Lauren’s favorite spots on the beach--pointing and repeating himself. He added other tidbits of information that Lena construed as his attempt at proving intimacy with Lauren. Ben was gracious; he thanked Greely then chose one of the spots that Greely pointed out for a small ceremony before giving Lauren’s ashes to the Pacific. With Greely in the lead, they zigzagged down the cliff on a narrow path. Lena quickened her step and grabbed onto Ben’s arm, stopping him as the others moved ahead.

  “Ben, I know this is probably not a good time, in fact I know it’s not a good time and I’m sorry, I apologize, but before I can do this I need to know something. I need to ask you something.”

  Ben said nothing.

  “What did Lauren die from, Ben?” she asked then said apologetically, “I was in shock. I’m not clear about any of it.” Lowering her voice even more, she added, “Greely said to ask you, and I need to know, Ben. Was it a seizure?”

  A face of sadness morphed into what looked liked anger to Lena, but she had to know so she stood her ground. Ben wasn’t angry about her inquiry, he just wanted to rid from his mind the image of Lauren that he now was about to expose--an image he preferred to let die.

  “She choked to death, Lena,” he said diverting his eyes.

  “She choked how, Ben? From what?”

  “She choked to death on her own vomit.” He looked down at the others as they continued their way to the beach. “I guess Lauren fell back into her old ways. It’s not something I want to think about, not now. You have a right to know, just not right now.” He looked directly into Lena’s eyes.

  The silence, the avoidance, now made sense to Lena.

  “Not a pretty picture, Lena, and it’s one I will try my best to forget. I just want to think of her sweet face, her smile, you know that smile. Let that smile linger in my mind…stay forever in my mind” he said and almost smiled himself while remembering. He continued, “You know how she, you know the way she laughed---” He stopped mid-sentence. “My little girl; I was proud of her.” Then Ben stopped talking. He waited, giving Lena time to assimilate the pitiful scene before he guided her to join the others. Lauren drunk, choking to death on her own vomit was a tragic image, one that belied the spirit of Lauren and Lena sanctioned Ben’s silence. It was easier to direct her mind back to Greely and the mystery of his lies since she also wanted to rid her mind of this revelation.

  They crossed the sand, stopping a few yards from a jetty of boulder-sized rocks that reached out through the waves. For Lena, the sounds and smells intensified the memory of Lauren. It was a long stretch of isolated beach where Lauren typically found retreat. Maybe Greely was right; maybe this was her favorite beach. It was the kind of place she often wrote her best music, where she played her guitar and sang to, of and with her surroundings. It was the same environment she sought to do battle with the demon that crept in and once took over her life. She was a singer, a musician, a performer and a woman with such sensitivity that life was destined to be a challenge. Alcohol cradled then crashed the distinct spirit of Lauren--the spirit that once soared, fell far and hard. She made it back, through strife and tenacity. Lauren won. She recaptured her trademark zeal for life and her music became a euphonious celebration of sobriety. The pitiful image Ben revealed violated that memory so Lena focused her attention on those around her, including Greely.

  They stood side by side in a half circle facing the ocean. Lisa spontaneously shared a softly spoken prayer. Though her words were suffocated by the crashing waves, her sorrow was audible. Hope removed her guitar from its case and quietly began tuning it. No one spoke. Then Hope began to sing. Her voice gently rose above the waves as she sang one of Lauren’s songs. It was a tribute to Lauren’s work yet its meaning turned somber hearing someone else sing it. Then she sang another one of Lauren’s songs. Those who were familiar with the birth of these songs could not hold back the tears. Lauren wrote about the love of someone or something, or some place. She never devoted her time to pen a song about angst, misfortune or disappointment, though there had been many in her life. Hope strummed into Magnificent Hanna, another song written from her heart about her sister--the sister who did not show for the funeral.

  The songs inspired open reflection. Individuals spoke of how Lauren touched their lives, the place she occupied in their lives and the void to come. Ben’s effort to speak was lost in tears; Lena quickly stepped in to continue the audible memorial to an extraordinary woman. Greely said nothing; he appeared very ill at ease, shifting his footing and looking away. He kept his previous inauspiciously loud mouth closed. Lauren had indeed affected others lives profoundly
. Her contribution was uplifting and positive. Lena wondered where all those others were now: the absent family members, those who surrounded her on stage and off, the people she sang for, to, and about. Where were they? Only a handful of people made the journey. Ironically, the same handful of individuals who wished Lauren success as she left to pursue her lofty dreams and endeavors so many years ago, was the same handful standing side by side at the end of Lauren’s journey.

  Alexandra picked up the plain cardboard box. It was time to say the last goodbye to what remain physically of Lauren. No one stepped forward to join her. The final act was stifling. Alone, Alexandra ceremoniously carried the box of ashes out onto the jetty, out to where the waves crashed against its side and could take the offering swiftly. She stood precariously on the highest rock. Hope began another song of Lauren’s as the group focused on Alexandra. She reached into the box and withdrew a handful of ashes, leaned towards the water and tossed them forcefully against the breeze onto the waves. This act immediately caught the attention of the seagulls. To the observing and hungry seagulls, Alexandra possessed a box full of edibles. The unintentionally irreverent seagulls swooped down immediately, squawking and hovering over Alexandra and the box. She did her best to fend off the intruders but with little success and the dive-bombing seagulls pushed the formerly solemn respectful matron-of-the-ashes to shouting obscenities. She held on tight to the box until one hungry daredevil actually landed on her head. Her arms flew up and she fell back onto the rocks with a resounding “FUUUUCK!” echoing across the jetty. The box dropped from her stronghold, bouncing and spilling Lauren across the rocks. The seagulls were frenzied, stepping over and on Alexandra to get to the “breadcrumbs” as she struggled to keep her dress down around her legs. The box knocked from seagull to seagull until Alexandra was able to reach it, using her body to anchor and protect what remained while the wind had opportunity to blow her dress up like a billowing sail. The seagulls backed off, but not far. They stood watching, waiting as Alexandra held her ground. Lena and Diana looked at each other and tried their best not to laugh aloud; though a somber occasion, the visual was still humorous.

  Ben scattered the birds as he rushed to her rescue but they still didn’t go far.

  “Oh God Ben,” she laughed, “Lauren would have loved that.” Alexandra smiled as he helped pull her to her feet.

  “She wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, Alexandra.” However, Ben knew she was right.

  “I’m fine, but the ashes are all over the rocks. I’m so sorry, Ben.”

  “She won’t mind,” Ben said with a smile. “The ocean will take them just the same.”

  Ben and Alexandra returned to the group with the depleted box of ashes and a new plan. Ben suggested that each person should take a portion of what remained and do with them what they deemed appropriate. The box was set on the sand and after an initial hesitation, one by one, each approached the box in private to take their share. Lena waited since suddenly, and unexpectedly, she found the ritual barbaric, truly repugnant, and not something she wanted to take part in. Her best friend had been reduced to ashes, placed in a cardboard box and now people were taking away handfuls of her. It was creepy yet morbidly humorous at the same time. It was a sanctioned ceremony in life--possessing a dead loved-one’s ashes--yet it now emerged as weird and uncivilized. She felt the urge to laugh and looked to Diana.

  It was Diana’s turn. She walked over and took Lena’s hand, guiding her to Lauren’s ashes. Diana understood the mixed emotions, even understood the urge to laugh. She coaxed Lena to participate. Lena waited for Diana to go first. When Lena placed her hand into the box, among the ashes were what she at first thought were pebbles from the jetty unavoidably swept into the box but they weren’t pebbles. They were small pieces of bone; some were sizable pieces of bone. She was expecting only soft ash, yet Lena pulled from the box a small but complete bone--a solid piece of Lauren. It made the ritual even more bizarre yet Lena instinctively tucked the tiny bone into her pocket then filtered through the ashes for more, cupping them into her hand and again slipping them into her pocket. With her coat pocket containing fragments of Lauren, she grabbed a palm full of soft ashes, put them in an old leather coin purse that had carried her migraine medicine then stepped away from the box. Lastly, it was Ben’s turn but he kept his position and didn’t go near the box.

  Before departing, Hope sang another song written by Lauren. Ben turned and alone he walked back out onto the rocks. Lena watched him make his way to the end of the jetty. Standing erect and still, staring out across the water with his hands in the pockets of his long dark coat, he looked like a sea captain, hopeless, at the bow of his sinking ship.

  The group stood facing each other though not talking. The silence was uncomfortable. What now? was the general unspoken question. What had happened, and was happening, was unchangeable and hard to accept. Now it was supposedly over. There was nothing to say. They just looked at and around each other. Eventually, Ted spoke up.

  “Let’s head back to the cars and give Ben privacy.”

  Lena chose to lag behind and waved Diana onward. She waited until the group was edging near the coastal highway before she started a normal pace. About halfway up the side of the cliff, Lena heard a voice. She stopped, looked around but saw no one, only Ben in the distance still standing at the end of the jetty. She continued until she heard the voice again, or what she thought was a voice. Lena turned to scan the area once more and then saw the enormous raven perched on the rock wall. Its guttural noises sounded much like a muffled voice. The bird was a beautiful glass black and so much bigger than she recalled ever seeing a raven in the past. They were observing each other. The raven’s head was slightly cocked and its black crystal eye watched Lena. The raven made a striking figure against the sandstone. She took a few steps closer to the bird.

  “You’re so pretty,” Lena said softly. The raven stood tall, proud and beautiful--so unfairly maligned in prose and life, always a symbol of the dark side in one way or the other. Cautiously, so as not to frighten the raven away, she moved even closer.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you.” She wished she had a peanut or something to toss so she could watch the raven spread its iridescent wings yet not fly away. She took another step closer, having never been so close to a raven without it flying off. She thought the bird looked so noble, half panther-half hawk. Lena tilted her head in parallel with the bird. The raven responded with a counter tilt and deep throaty noises that sounded like a string of unintelligible words, not a sound she remembered hearing from a raven before. She and the raven held a steady eye on each other. Two more ravens appeared. She stood motionless, admiring the three stoic dark figures. Their presence lifted her spirits. All at once, in unison, they stretched their magnificent wings and leaped into flight.

  “Ya talkun’ ta ravens!” hollered Greely.

  His intrusion was immediately infuriating. Her fuse was near spent with Greely. Lena’s body tensed; she turned and, without a word or glance, hurried past him. She quickened her pace and reached the top of the cliff several yards ahead of him. The others had gathered around Greely’s truck and she jogged over to join them.

  “You okay?” Diana reached out to embrace Lena.

  “Is anyone okay right now, Diana? This is like a bad dream. I did see some beautiful ravens on the cliff until Greely showed up and the birds with their good sense flew away.” She realized that displaying an attitude about Greely was contrary to her gaining his trust and getting answers so she said no more. Stirring suspicion in others where they might have the wherewithal to confront him was not a good idea.

  Greely stepped up and without warning, as if rehearsed, announced that he had Lauren’s car and her belongings at his trailer.

  “Why are her things at your place?” Diana asked. “Had she moved in with you?”

  “We was gunna get marrud, sister, so kinda natural, ya know.”

  “But she wasn’t liv
ing with you, was she?” Lena asked.

  “Wasn’t she moving into one of Scott’s cabins? I thought most of her things were there, but they’re not?” Ted questioned.

  “Ya, ya. Ya, she was at that cabin too.” He shrugged his shoulders. “She had herself two houses but not two men.” Greely grinned.

  Greely’s words and behavior were close to appropriate on the beach but his boorish manners were returning. He responded to a few questions about Lauren’s belongings then awkwardly segued into the condition of the engine in Lauren’s car; it was “all fuckt up.”

  “Here comes Ben,” Dora announced, gladly interrupting Greely’s diatribe about foreign-made vehicles. Ben looked composed and smiled to reassure his waiting family and friends that he was okay.

  “Well?” Ben said, opening the door for suggestions.

  Randolph informed Ben that Greely claimed to have Lauren’s belongings including her car, the car Ben had given her. The information caused Ben to pause. Yet, to Lena’s disappointment, he asked no questions.

  “I guess we should head over to Greely’s house and pick up Lauren’s things, wouldn’t you say?” Ben directed the question to everyone, looking at each. All agreed. Ben obviously wanted their company while taking on the next task of this near unbearable day.

  Greely enthusiastically offered to take everyone to see the place where he found Lauren, as though a bonus feature in making the trip to his trailer.

  “Et’s right by mey trailer” he added in a cavalier manner.

  His audience stood speechless, again waiting for Ben’s response. Ben’s response was to change the subject and ask about riding arrangements; he wanted to know who was going to make the trip to Greely’s with him. Greely began waving his arms around, giving directions to his home. Once again, it was just easier for the group to follow the gray-blue smoke.

  “Cum ohn,” he said to Lena as everyone was readying to leave.

  “I’m going to ride with Ben.” She knew it would be difficult to keep up a compassionate or friendly front on this ride. Lena needed to subdue her anger before dealing with Greely one-on-one again. Ben opened his car door and waited.

  Lena and Randolph passed each other and shared a steady glance reaffirming that they were still on the same page about Greely. She felt Greely watching her as she walked towards Ben’s car and wondered why, from the beginning, he seemed to focus on her. She wondered if he sensed or knew that she was not buying his story.

  The loud engine of the truck started up right away and the spewing smoke led the line of vehicles into the mountains.

  Ben’s newly purchased Jaguar was comfortable and too quiet. They sat as if strangers on a luxury ride to a doomed destination. Lena preferred to talk, to cry, and get angry, anything but sit separately silent. They had been close for many years and uncommonly open with each other, a result of the sixties perhaps. Freedom of expression was a mainstay, even if Ben was the parent. This ride would break the mold. The topic of Greely’s authenticity seemed a malapropos subject to broach yet Lena yearned to know if Ben was suspicious of Greely and his story and if the others were suspicious, only, keeping their suspicions to themselves for Ben’s sake. Lena pushed the button and watched the window ease into the door. The scent of the mountains blew across her face and with it a vivid and welcome memory to deter her anguish.

  “Come on Geezer!” Lauren yelled down in jest. Lena was not fond of the nickname, which is exactly why Lauren kept it constant.

  “Yes, oh Mighty Lo Mein,” she yelled back.

  Lauren sat on a boulder above, waiting for Lena who was infinitely slower in the hiking department. She un-wrapped an egg roll to hurry Lena along. She was the perpetual purveyor of Chinese food and would possess the cuisine at the most unlikely times and places. Lauren munched on and waved the egg roll as Lena huffed and puffed her way up the trail.

  “Here!” Lauren laughed. “Have another.” She tossed down a pack of unopened cigarettes.

  “Larks,” Lena read the label exaggerated and loud. “Don’t mind if I do.” She dropped her backpack onto the ground and plopped her tired derriere atop it. “Throw down an egg roll, and not one you’ve taken a bite out of.”

  Lauren promptly bit the end off an egg roll and tossed it down.

  “So, Madame Lo Mein, let’s talk about your upcoming marriage to a stranger.”

  Lauren threw her head back and laughed then shouted back at full volume, “He’s not a stranger, Geezer.”

  “I haven’t met him so he’s a stranger. He hasn’t been scrutinized by your best bud and guide in life,” Lena chastised.

  “Guide! Who’s following who here?” she said looking down at Lena.

  “It’s who’s following whom. See! You need my guidance. You wouldn’t want to say something like ‘to who I do wed’ and make a grammatical fool out of yourself at the altar, would you?”

  Lauren had fallen in love with a fellow musician while in New Mexico, a Navajo man who resided on the reservation. They eventually married but the marriage came with problems Lauren never anticipated and the union was not long-lived. She eventually left her husband, the reservation and New Mexico and came to stay with Lena in Seattle. By that time, alcohol was directing Lauren’s decisions and there were many strained times and misunderstandings. In due time, Lena moved back to California while Lauren moved to a small town outside of Seattle. Lena began marketing her designs while Lauren performed in small clubs throughout the northwest, both getting on with their separate lives. Early one morning, while the sun rose on a perfect California day, Lena awoke to the sound of an acoustic guitar outside her window and a loud screeching voice serenading in Navajo. Lauren was back. Their friendship took back up as if those years apart and difficult times had never occurred.

  Lauren yelled at Lena what was akin to she-devil in Navajo, “You daaaa eeee chee!” Lauren drew out the enunciation then added, “Tsxiilgo! Come on Geezer, move it; let’s go you lazy air-polluting smoker.”

  Lena thanked her for the “kind foreign words” knowing it had to be a dig of some kind. She put out her cigarette and stuck the butt into the pocket on her backpack. Lena took a hardy slow and deep breath for Lauren’s sake then continued up the trail at her usual inert pace.

  It was getting late in the day and Lauren was more attentive of their location than Lena, surveying the best direction for them to head to set up camp. They periodically took off for days and Lauren always guided the way, never failing to find the desirable places to camp. Lena trusted her outdoor savvy as usual and faithfully followed behind, asking question after question about Lauren’s new man from New Mexico. She answered between laughs and digs about Lena’s boyfriend with the bad hair until she spotted a wide creek with rushing water. The water churned as it flowed, filling the air with a soothing sound. It had fairly still pools and it was perfect. They dashed to the first pool of water and jumped in, leaving their clothes behind and dry. (Lena remembered the day so well that she could almost feel the cold water.) Lena relaxed while Lauren prepare a feast of Chinese food, and as usual, they stayed up late into the night talking, and of course, laughing.

  The memory was all so vivid. She remembered Lauren talking about her future that evening. She could hear the words verbatim and feel Lauren’s enthusiasm still. Lauren was in love. She planned to marry this Navajo man, to merge their musical talents and begin a life and career together. Lauren had so few doubts about the success of her life back then. She knew what she wanted and knew what she needed to do to get it. At that time, Lena only wanted her Nikon camera fixed and her hair to grow faster so she could braid it, no meritorious dreams or plans for the future.

  The joy of remembering collided with sorrow, one she feared would become overwhelming, so Lena put the window up, leaned her head back against the seat and pondered the possible reasons for Greely’s lies.

  Greely’s truck turned down a dirt road lined with older trailers, varying in age and condition but all in n
eed of some repair. He pulled up to one of the shabbiest trailers on the road and onto a makeshift driveway, stopping behind Lauren’s car--shiny and looking out of place—a small Fiat just big enough for Lauren and her guitar that rode like a passenger. The others parked in a line in front of what they assumed was Greely’s yard.

  Greely appeared cheery as he waited for the others, as if he were hosting a party. This annoyed and puzzled Lena, and Randolph.

  Passing Lauren’s car was difficult; it was like passing an open coffin, looking in at an old friend lying vacant. Each, minus Ben, slowed to a near stop, peering into the little car as if looking for something yet not sure what. The Fiat was clean, too clean in Lena’s opinion--not how Lauren kept it: no newspapers, no books, no empty coffee cups or clothing stuffed next to the seats. There was no sign of Lauren.

  They followed Greely up the stairs of his porch and into his trailer home. The interior was immaculate--unlike the exterior and Greely but just like Lauren’s car. He went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a six-pack of Budweiser in cans, holding them up to offer his guests a drink. Ben and Ted accepted. They popped open their cans and began a conversation with Greely in the kitchen while the others stood about the living room ill at ease. Lena looked for signs of Lauren, observing nothing recognizable as belonging to Lauren. Randolph wasted no time; he marched over to a closed door and opened it without explanation or permission. It was a bedroom and Lauren’s leather jacket was on the chair. He stepped into the room. Lena followed his lead.

  “Look.” Randolph nodded towards the chair. She picked up the jacket and under it was Lauren’s black sweatshirt with a picture of a lowland gorilla on the front. On the floor, by the bed, were her favorite cowboy boots, upright and side by side. Lauren’s crystal ball held by a brass stand of angels sat on the chest of drawers.

  “Thems Lauren’s things.” Greely was in the doorway. Instead of displeasure that they made their way into the room uninvited, Greely seemed delighted.

  Diana ducked under Greely’s arm and joined them.

  “So she lived here with you?” Lena asked, hoping Greely would talk as he had in the truck so that the others would hear. Maybe they would help Lena with the task of getting answers.

  “Sometimes,” Greely responded still looking pleased at the gathering.

  “I thought she was moving into one of Scott’s cabins?” Diana questioned. Lena hoped that Diana’s question indicated that she was also suspicious of Greely’s story.

  “Sometimes she’d live there too.”

  “So, are her clothes and things here?” Lena asked while she continued looking around the room.

  “She didn’t keep much clothes here. Didn’t need ‘em here.” The rise of his eyebrow caused Lena to shoot him an icy glare and turn away.

  “Then Greely, are most of her belongings at the cabin?” Diana inquired, but Lena cut in before Greely had a chance to answer.

  “I don’t understand why she never mentioned she was staying here or mentioned you to me, Greely.” Others had gravitated to the hallway outside the bedroom and Lena wanted to stir suspicion in those who appeared to turn a blind eye to Greely’s claim of premarital bliss.

  “Maybe she wanted ta keep mey a secret,” he answered. “Ya know how Lauren can be.”

  Lena knew that he was using information she had given him on their ride to the beach to again feign closeness with Lauren. He wasn’t believable, yet she was trying to keep her mind as open as possible so that she could find the pieces to this puzzle and make sense of what happened to Lauren and Greely’s part in it.

  Randolph opened the closet door to a mess but nothing appeared to belong to Lauren. He excused himself as if he needed to use the bathroom and did a quick and quiet inspection of the trailer, looking for evidence of Lauren. He checked the bathroom to find a hairbrush, make up, the scent of her perfume--something. He found nothing.

  Diana grabbed Lauren’s jacket and cowboy boots. Lena picked up the sweatshirt. Greely said nothing as he watched until Lena put her hand on the crystal ball.

  “I really like that, Geezer. Reminds mey of Lauren,” Greely announced.

  Ben spoke up, “Go ahead and keep it.”

  Lena chose not to argue the matter; she would just make sure she left with it. The crystal ball had memories and they weren’t Greely’s, but Ben didn’t know that. She reached down and opened the top drawer, then the next three drawers while the others watched--nothing of Lauren’s; everything appeared to be Greely’s.

  “Is this all that she has here?” Lena asked.

  “Ya. Yep, that’s about it,” he answered sounding quite satisfied.

  The reason for his apparent satisfaction was most curious to Lena. She just stared at him trying to piece the scene together: a handful of Lauren’s things all neatly placed in one room; her car sat clean and free of typical Lauren-clutter.

  “I would like to see where you found Lauren.” Ben’s sudden request surprised everyone.

  Greely gladly obliged.

  Lena quickly and adamantly expressed her distaste for the idea to Randolph, who just as quickly and adamantly convinced her to join the others.

  “But I think it’s morbid,” she protested. “What’s the point, like slowing down to see blood on the road after a car wreck. It gives me the creeps. What are they hoping to see?”

  “If Ben needs to see where she was found, then we support him and we stand by him.”

  Randolph took her hand and the two followed a short distance behind the others talking just above a whisper.

  “Randolph, you know Greely is lying. On the ride to the beach, I tested him; he failed with flying colors. He told me how Lauren talked about our times in Gallup to him---“

  Randolph interrupted, “You spent time with her in Gallup?”

  “No, that’s the point. He was just taking my lead and bullshitting. So why would he bullshit about anything unless he is hiding something, or guilty of something?”

  “We can talk more later.” Randolph noticed that the group was slowing their pace, likely nearing the destination. The dirt path meandered through the trees and the sounds of the river magnified. Greely stopped at a flat open area at the side of the river, a small dirt beach.

  “Good fishin’ in this river,” Greely shared ill-timed information with the group.

  “You found her here?” Ted asked while staring at the damp ground.

  “Yeah, she was lying right there.” He stretched his arm and pointed at the spot. “Right there.”

  “What was she doing out here?” Hope asked.

  “Maybe takin’ a walk, thinkin’ or somethin’, wantin’ to be alone,” Greely answered.

  “Ben, everyone, I’m sorry, I don’t want to be here; I’m going back.” Alexandra was visibly upset as she spoke and, at a near jog, was on her way back to Greely’s trailer. The others soon followed, except for Lena.

  “Ben, I’m going to stay. I’d like some time alone and I think I’d like to put her ashes in the river. This is the kind of place that we would have camped. Reminds me of her—of us.” Ben seemed miles away. He held Lena briefly, kissed her cheek and walked off with the others.

  The sounds and smells intensified Lena’s reflections of Lauren. Their playful excursions, talks under the stars, Lauren’s music and the depth of their friendship were so often shared in places such as this. It was a well-represented environment to release Lauren’s ashes--the place of her untimely and tragic death aside.

  Lena hadn’t prepared an eloquent eulogy to her beloved friend or even a sardonic or witty commentary about life and friendship to amuse the spirit of Lauren. She clenched the leather pouch filled with Lauren’s ashes in her left hand while her right hand rotated the small bones in her pocket like worry beads. She would keep the bones; Lena wasn’t giving them to the river. Only the white roses were missing, the purchase that brought her closer to the reality of Lauren’s passing. They were back in Randolph’s car.


  Lena made great effort to go unnoticed as she gathered the roses, leaving the door to the car ajar and discreetly heading back to the river. Greely watched. He caught her attention when his lanky body moved across the window. She took an alternative route back, a path that wove through the trees a distance from the river so as to avoid Greely if he attempted to join her.

  It seemed he had done just that.

  She heard the crunching of stale leaves on the ground a distance behind. She stopped. So did the noise. Lena turned to walk back, ready to confront him, and sternly let him know she wanted this time alone. Once at the top of the small hill, Lena had an adequate overlook of the area but there was no one in sight. Greely would be hard to miss and there was little to hide behind. She looked over to where the ground and trees rose to the side of the road. It was a dog--a long-legged black German shepherd standing motionless, as was she. “Oh my God,” she said aloud, “I’m losing it.” She turned to scan the area again for Greely and when she looked back the dog was gone. Lena took in a long breath of the fragrant mountain air, exhaled, took a few seconds to refocus then continued her trek to the river—bewildered and doubting what she had clearly seen.

  The sun illuminated the damp ground and cast over the tree leaves, their shadows pulsated across the suddenly sacred ground like dancing fairies. Lena stepped to the side, not wanting to stand over where Lauren was found. She climbed up onto some rocks cascading from the small dirt beach into the river. With the sounds and scents of nature surrounding her, enhancing and embracing the moment, she watched the water churn below, whisking away everything in its path.

  Eventually, Lena opened the leather pouch and sprinkled Lauren’s ashes atop the white roses. “Old Blue,” the song Lauren often sang to Lena, and one of Lena’s favorites, played in her head like a theme song. With a singing voice that should best be kept to oneself, Lena sang it aloud--Lauren was a recollection of smiles, laughs, friendship and that song. She lifted the ash and tear-stained roses, holding them a solemn moment, then tossed them into the river. They swirled and danced with the current, chaotic and beautiful, then disappeared from sight just like Lauren.

  A feeling of peace enveloped Lena. Suddenly the air seemed different, a bit warmer; everything felt different for a long few minutes. Just as suddenly, the feeling vanished and a cold breeze off the river changed the ambiance urging Lena to move on. She kept the song going while meandering her way up the path; it felt as though Lauren was by her side and she could hear Lauren’s powerful voice singing along.

  Once again, the long-legged black dog startled Lena. She watched as it trotted past in the opposite direction. Before disappearing into a cluster of trees the dog stopped, looked back at Lena, as if waiting for Lena to catch up. Lena felt the urge to follow, accepting the perceived invitation. She zigzagged through the trees with the black figure popping in and out of view ahead of her. Not wanting to lose sight of the elusive canine, Lena sped up to a full run.

  The dog disappeared behind a rock wall. Lena sprinted into a hasty turn past the rock wall only to confront a dead end. The rock wall cornered with another large rock formation. There was no dog in sight. She could see nowhere that the dog could have escaped. As she leaned back against a tree to catch her breath, Lena noticed light filtering through the foliage covering a good portion of the rock wall. She stepped closer, pushed the massive entangled vines aside and behind the leafy curtain was a window-sized opening. Lena stepped forward, leaned through the opening that led to what looked like a large rock room constructed by nature. It had four walls and a ceiling that consisted of live branches from the surrounding trees, which allowed the sunlight to filter through and brighten the room. Lena followed what she imagined was the dog’s route. Once inside, she was awestruck.

  The structure was magical, something out of a storybook and she was certain a rousing and colorful history must belong to the hidden stone room. Lena decided to stay, to enjoy this special place. She sat down onto the earthen floor then stretched out on her back. Slivers of blue sky shone brightly through the branches. This was a remarkable place, a hideaway out of a fantasy. The origin of this unusual room, and its possibilities, fired Lena’s imagination. The room was captivating and the perfect respite from the day.

  She noticed that the other wall had a similar opening that led back out to the woods, which seemed to explain the missing dog. She believed that the dog must be a stray and this was the dog’s safe haven. She worried that her presence, her scent, might pose a perceived threat to the stray’s sanctuary and therefore left, exiting through the second opening into the woods.

  “Old Blue” began running through her head again and she hummed along on as she made her way back to Greely’s trailer to join the others. She felt an odd and welcomed sense of peace until, like a crack of thunder, a gunshot rang out. The sound came from the direction of Greely’s trailer. Lena changed her leisurely pace into a run. As she approached, she saw Diana and the others standing in the front yard, looking upward. Greely stood on the porch with a rifle poised in his hands. Lena caught her breath and Greely’s attention.

  “Hey Geezer, wanna turn?” he shouted.

  Lena looked at the others then shook her head indicating a strong and alarmed no. Greely pointed the gun upward and pulled the trigger.

  Diana was quick to join Lena’s side.

  “What the hell is this about, Diana? Why is everybody out here and why does he have that rifle?”

  “Are you doing okay, Lena?” Diana was concerned; she had been gone a considerable amount of time.

  “Why is he shooting a rifle on the porch?” she asked, twisting her mouth from disgust. “Is this the way to end a memorial, with a Greely-gun salute? This is too fucking weird, Diana. This guy is a case.”

  “I don’t know, Lena. He was telling Ted about his rifle and then we ended up out here. This guy is sort of,” Diana paused, searching for the word, “hillbilly I guess.”

  “He’s also a damned liar.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Now’s not a good time.” Lena was feeling anxious.

  “You doing okay?” Diana prodded.

  She gently squeezed Diana’s arm. “This whole day. Something, I don’t know. Diana things are not adding up but now is not a good time to talk about it.”

  “It’s his new gun or something. I guess he’s proud of it.”

  “I’m not referring to the gun though shooting off guns at a time like this is bizarre enough. I’m talking about Greely and how he hasn’t been honest with us, Diana, but I can’t say anything of course, not now, not in front of Ben.”

  Lena sensed that the gun made Diana nervous, and maybe everyone else except for Ted and she shouted out to Greely, “Please quit shooting the rifle. Please, it’s unnerving, Greely.”

  He merely responded with his sinister looking sparse-tooth grin

  Diana commented in a dispirited and apologetic voice, “I know something isn’t right here, something about this guy. He’s not Lauren’s type, I guess that’s obvious.” She stared at Greely. “But I guess she was drinking again.”

  Lena’s response was brash. “Well, I’m glad somebody sees that besides me and Randolph and she could never be that drunk.”

  Ted was holding the rifle, examining it.

  “Look at Ted holding the rifle.” Lena shook her head. “He’s in denial or something. What’s Greely, his new best friend now?”

  “Hey there!” Diana bent forward, beckoning the dog to come closer.

  The black German shepherd stopped in front of Diana then looked up and wagged her long narrow tail.

  “Did Lauren send you?” she asked sweetly, stroking the dog’s head. “What a pretty dog.”

  Lena reached to touch the dog for herself, confirmation of sorts. She looked directly into her near solid black eyes. The dog shared the stare and a rush waved through Lena, the feeling
one gets when doing a backward somersault or a quick unexpected spin on an amusement ride.

  Bang! Another shot went off. Greely possessed the rifle again.

  “Shit, I wish he’d put that thing away! He’s going to scare the dog away and give me a heart attack,” Diana complained in a low soft voice so as not to frighten the four-legged visitor.

  “Greely,” Lena called out to Greely again though somewhat subdued for the sake of the dog, “could you please quit shooting that thing?”

  “Hey, it’s cool, Geezer.” Greely was clearly enjoying himself.

  The dog basked briefly in their attention then trotted off, sniffing as though she were searching for something in Greely’s yard.

  “What did you mean he’s lying?” Diana asked in a whisper.

  “I’m so amazed by this dog, Diana.” Lena’s eyes followed the image of Shadow.

  “She is a pretty dog.”

  “I lost a dog that looked exactly like this dog. That’s how I met Lauren, but I guess you know that.”

  “No, I didn’t know; I thought you met in school.” Diana turned to take another look at the black dog searching the yard.

  “No, we didn’t go to the same school then. I met her when she helped me look for my dog, a black German shepherd, just like this dog.”

  They stood observing the front yard scene a short while, Lena’s attention mostly on the shepherd, when Diana commented, sounding exhausted, “I wish we would get on our way, grab Lauren’s things then get out of here.”

  “As soon as Ted and Greely lighten up on the gun show I’m going to make that suggestion to Ben.”

  “What did you mean about Greely being a liar?” Diana inquired again.

  Lena took her attention off the dog and stepped closer to Diana. In a hushed voice she answered, “Well, I can give you details later but in short, on the ride to the beach I was asking him questions about Lauren. His answers were mostly lies, Diana. I mean, I could lead him to say complete bullshit. He couldn’t have been engaged to Lauren; I don’t think he even knew her very well. But why is he lying, that’s what I can’t figure out.”

  “He lied about Lauren? Like what? What kind of lies?”

  “He said things like, Lauren used to go hunting with him and she was a good shot.”

  “What?” Diana snickered at the absurdity.

  “Yeah: Lauren the great white hunter. Bambi killer. I think he suspects I know he’s lying though. Have you noticed how he has sort of focused his attention on me?”

  Diana jabbed at possibilities. “Maybe he is just nervous, upset, and he’s mixing things up. Or maybe he is trying to impress you because you’re her best friend.”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s something else but I haven’t figured out what. He has to have something to hide or why would he be lying?”

  “Hey there, is that a bone you have for me? Do you want me to throw it for you?” Diana reached for the bone protruding from the black dog’s mouth. The dog turned its head and dropped the bone at Lena’s feet, ignoring Diana. The dog’s interest and eyes were on Lena.

  “She wants you to throw it, Lena.” Diana insisted, “Throw it for her.”

  Lena’s hand was occupied; she had her hand in her pocket rotating a tiny bone of Lauren’s between her fingers.

  The dog’s eyes were locked on Lena. Then she broke the stare and withdrew, heading off past Greely’s trailer in a rapid pace and out of their view.

  “You didn’t throw it. Maybe she’s going to go get another,” Diana said with a chuckle.

  “Oh my God,” Lena replied.

  “Oh my God what?”

  “The dog dropped---“ she was interrupted by a sound, more startling than the gunshots, a loud venomous yell shrieked from the porch.

  “Geet outta heah! Geet! Geet! Gawd damn dawg!” Greely was in a rage, yelling at the black dog that was crouched at the bottom of the porch steps--either ready to attack or cowering in fear, Lena couldn’t tell. With a depraved smirk, Greely turned his rifle and pointed the barrel at the dog. For the first few seconds everyone froze, horrified.

  “Greely!” Lena screamed, “Greely don’t! Don’t you shoot her!”

  The dog remained crouched and still.

  “No!” Lena bolted across the yard to protect the dog. As she drew closer, she could see that the dog was bearing its teeth. Greely stepped forward with a steady aim on the dog. Lena screamed another protest, which this time caused Greely’s attention to veer towards her and his aim moved off target. The black shepherd stood erect, still bearing its teeth. For a brief moment, the dog looked back at Lena, making brief eye contact, and then dashed off disappearing into the woods.

  There was a visible sigh of relief among the group and Greely took notice.

  “It’s jus a God damn dawg, Geezer. Problah a damned stray dawg.” Greely saw the fury in her eyes and quickly added, “I wasn’t gunna shoot it. Jus havin’ a lil fun…” Greely joked on, attempting to make light of the incident. He made claim loudly, “Hey, I’da been doin’ the thing a favor if I shot it; it’s probably a damned stray a starvin’, looked skinny. It was suffrin from not eatin’ or sick.”

  “Then you feed her,” Lena scorned, “not shoot her. What’d you do to make the dog bear its teeth at you, Greely?”

  “Shooed it away. It’s lucky I didn’t shoot it. Too many gawdamned strays out here anyway, shudda shot it but you get all upset n’ everthing if I shot it, huh?” Greely half laughed.

  Revolted and now sure beyond question that this man was not even Lauren’s friend, Lena turned away. Ben changed the topic to steer the focus off Greely’s unfortunate display. The others remained silent but, like Diana, appeared ready to leave. Randolph’s rigid stance didn’t go unnoticed by Lena. He looked quite angry, a rare sight, and she walked over to join him.

  “Can this day get much worse?” Lena commented.

  “Just the kind of guy Lauren would be engaged to.” Randolph’s sarcasm was more caustic than she had ever heard from the normally calm self-satisfied man. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Lena.” He was no longer content to be the observer.

  Since Ben and Ted were again engaged in conversation with Greely, Randolph and Lena decided to take a walk out into the woods. They agreed that the black shepherd was more than likely a stray. They would find the dog and take it with them, find the dog a good home. Lena told him about the stone room that she figured was the dog’s hideaway. If the shepherd was in there, they could more than likely catch her. As they searched for the stone hideaway, Randolph was sounding more and more like a prospective new dog owner, which pleased Lena to no end. Only, Lena could not locate the stone wall leading to the room. They hiked and wandered until a horn in the distance announced that the others were ready to leave.

  “I swear Randolph, the hideaway was right out here, in this area.”

  “Well, maybe we can come back and find her. Or Lena, maybe she’s not a stray and she is on her way home safe and sound, away from Greely.” They had to leave.

  Lena said a silent prayer for the black shepherd’s safety as they returned to the waiting others.

  Under the guise of needing to use the bathroom, Lena was able to liberate Lauren’s crystal ball and brass angel stand without notice. Unlike the others, Lena and Randolph managed to bypass the hugs, handshakes and sympathetic departing words with Greely. Lena had the crystal ball and stand hidden under her coat and they were in the car ready to leave. The second they heard Ben’s car start up they drove off.

  Lena assumed Ben would be returning to pick up Lauren’s car and made mention of it to Ted as they exited the dirt road from Greely’s.

  “No, I think he gave it to Greely,” Ted informed as they turned onto the main road.

  “You’re not serious! Why? Why would he give Lauren’s car to Greely?” Lena protested.

  “Yes, why?” Randolph was also curious why Ben would make such a gift to Greely.

  �
��Greely was telling Ben how much he liked the car, said it needed work that he’d be willing to do for Ben.”

  “So he’s going to fix it and Ben will pick it up then?”

  “No, I think Ben just said to keep it.” Ted glanced at Lena through the rearview mirror. He knew that look. “I think Ben just doesn’t want to deal with it, Lena.”

  “Fine, I’ll deal with it and get it back,” Lena huffed. “Lauren never said she was having any problems with her car. This is more bullshit, Ted.”

  “The bereaved fiancé needed a high-priced memento,” Randolph grumbled, shaking his head.

  “It’s a Fiat, you know, Fix It Again Tony? Maybe it was having problems.”

  “Yeah, right Ted. It couldn’t be that that scum was taking advantage of Ben’s vulnerable state, could it?”

  “Come on, guys, this is hard on everyone,” Ted defended.

  “Ted, you of all people, you truly were engaged to her, you should see that something is wrong with this picture!” She leaned forward against the front seat. “You don’t find anything odd about this guy, his story? Are you serious?”

  Randolph turned in his seat to observe Ted’s response.

  Ted was exhausted by the day and had little enthusiasm for the possible discord.

  “And just what exactly are you referring to?”

  Lena flopped onto the back seat in frustration. “Let’s see, Ted. Maybe it’s his great classy good looks that scream Lauren’s-kinda-man. Or could it be his impeccable manners? Or, does the fact that no one has ever heard of him before, that he claimed she lived there part time and no one knew and hardly anything of hers was there raise any flags, Ted? Add to that, he lied the whole ride to the beach. Did you know Lauren went deer hunting with Greely, boy was she a gooooood shot too!”

  “And Ted, you witnessed his regard for the dog. That display was a quality that would certainly have won Lauren’s heart.” Randolph’s sarcasm was verging on irritation from Ted’s derelict observations of Greely.

  “Has everybody gone brain dead!” Lena raised her voice.

  “This is going to be a long ride.” Ted shook his head and took a deep breath. “ I certainly hope---“

  “Yes, and,” Randolph cut Ted off, “I would rather find a hotel and make the ride in the morning. I’m hungry and I’m tired and it would not hurt to stay the night and take a good look into this Greely character.”

  “I agree.” Lena was adamant.

  Ted just rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m sure if there is something wrong we will find out about it. I have no desire to stay the night in Millet and where would we go to eat, that place we were at today?” he commented knowing they would have no desire to return to the rundown coffee shop.

  “That can’t be the only place in Millet,” Randolph insisted.

  “Yeah, that just happened to be Greely’s hangout and it didn’t seem that they were all that happy to see him either.” Lena leaned forward against the back of the front seat.

  “You noticed that too,” Randolph added.

  “Dad, if you would like to rest for the night I’ll find a hotel. We can stay but I’m not going back to the trailer to talk to Greely and I’m not playing detective come morning. I need to get back.”

  Lena gave Randolph’s shoulder a light squeeze; she knew his determination was mounting along with hers.

  They found an old motel that had been on the main road since the 1950’s. The clerk told them of a seasoned and secluded French restaurant within driving distance. They made the drive and were pleasantly surprised; it was quaint with an exceptional menu and they were certain it would be a Greely-free zone.

  The waiter took their order then Ted excused himself from the table, which gave Randolph and Lena the opportunity to discuss some Greely matters in private. They quickly ran down the list of inconsistencies in Greely’s story and behavior. They questioned whether to expose the depth of their suspicions to Ben, or anyone else. When Ted returned to the table, much to their surprise, he brought up the subject of Greely without prodding.

  “You know, I have a bad feeling about this Greely. I don’t like him, you know, as a person but I don’t know that he wasn’t dating Lauren. If she were drinking again, well that would explain it. Who knows what might have been said while they were drinking, it’s obvious this guy puts more than a few down. Maybe in some drunken moment he asked her to marry him and she said yes, because she was drinking and not thinking right and he held onto that where Lauren didn’t even remember.”

  Lena then relayed the lies Greely told while on the drive to the beach, emphasizing how easy it was to lead him along.

  “Well, he isn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree, Lena and why would he lie to you anyway? Why do you---” Ted was interrupted by the waiter.

  Their meals had arrived and they were duly impressed. For the next twenty minutes, they sampled each other’s food letting the less appetizing subject wait.

  “Okay back to your question, why would he lie? That is what I’m trying to figure out, Ted.” Lena looked at Randolph hinting for him to join in.

  “What is your guess, Ted?” Randolph wanted Ted to give the subject more than a passing thought, but he didn’t, he again blamed the mix-up in stories on drinking.

  “You know, Ted, even when she was having a problem with her drinking she wasn’t an oblivious drunk who was weaving tales and getting mixed up. I lived with her when her drinking was a major problem, you remember. Dating scum and accepting marriage proposals was not part of her problems. I know and so do you, Ted, what Lauren was like when she was drinking. It is extremely difficult for me to believe Lauren began drinking again in the first place but regardless, even if she were, and even if she accepted a marriage proposal in a drunken stupor, that doesn’t explain his lies. Drunk or not, Lauren was not a hunter, shooting animals in the woods, come on. What about all the other bullshit Greely claimed?”

  Lena wanted Ted to open his eyes to the inconsistencies though she was aware his sadness accompanied by his personal guilt put him in a separate place. He left Lauren against her wishes due to her drinking, promising reconciliation when she got the problem under control. But the space between them only grew wider in time and they remained just friends. Ted was feeling guilty, believing that if he had stuck by her maybe she would still be alive.

  They theorized and ruminated throughout the remainder of the meal only to find new unanswered questions. The end result was as it had been from the start: Lena and Randolph suspected Greely of some wrongdoing and Ted brushed off the confusion, attributing it to drinking and two overly suspicious grieving friends. Lena and Randolph agreed to obtain a copy of the autopsy and police report. Ted wanted nothing to do with it.

 

  “Hi,” Lena said cheerfully, expecting Officer Bradley to be at the other end. She had found his girlfriend a pair of vintage cowboy boots and Officer Bradley was going to pick them up so she could check them out.

  “Hi ya Geezer.” It was Greely.

  “Greely?” she asked, as if she had been punched in the stomach. “Greely from Millet?” She knew it was Greely; his accent distinguished him from any other she knew, but needed a second to ready herself.

  “Yeah, it’s mey,” he said. “I ain’t feeling too good. Thought I would call, make mey feel better.”

  “How’d you get my number?”

  “Dead People’s Stuff, right. Funny name.” He snorted a laugh into the receiver. She didn’t recall mentioning the name of her store but that didn’t mean someone else hadn’t.

  “Ya there?”

  “Yes, just surprised. So how are you, Greely?” She reminded herself that she needed to keep communication open if she wanted answers. She took on an agreeable pleasant tone and attitude as she listened to him portray himself as the bereaved fiancé who just needed a sympathetic shoulder. He wanted to visit Lena in Monterey; she was Lauren’s best friend and who better to understand his loss. Lena stressed
that it was a long drive to Monterey from Millet. That fact didn’t faze him; he liked to drive, if she would just give him the directions to her house he’d be at her place that weekend. She was grasping for excuses when Greely added that he had something of Lauren’s he wanted to give her.

  “My boyfriend is back from Spain and I don’t think it would be a good idea to meet at my place; he can be funny about that. We could meet downtown. There are a lot places to meet here.”

  “I thought you wasn’t seeing nobody? That’s what ya told mey.”

  “We’re an on and off situation, more off than on. I don’t want to push it. We could meet at Jumpin’ Java, it’s a really nice place, good coffee, good food and it’s open Sunday.”

  “Sunday? Why Sunday?”

  “I have to work at my store Saturday.”

  “Then Saturday night.”

  “I have plans. But if you want to come to talk Sunday, I’ll meet you at Jumpin’ Java…” and she continued to explain why it was the only way to meet that weekend.

  He agreed to meet Lena on Sunday, promising to bring the “something” he had for her. She called Randolph the second they hung up.

  “Randolph,” she said impatiently.

  “Yes, yes. This is Randolph.”

  “Guess who just called me and wants to meet with me to give me something of Lauren’s and talk?”

  “My word,” Randolph said flatly, “as if we didn’t expect this.”

  “I didn’t. You did?”

  “Yes, Lena. Goodness. That unsavory fellow thinks you will be his next.” Randolph sounded amused by her naiveté.

  “Next what?” Lena paused to give the comment some thought. “His next pseudo fiancé? Oh please, Randolph. Now, help me with this. You have to help me, help me orchestrate a plan, my questions, you know, so we can figure out why this guy’s been lying. By the way, have you gotten a copy of the autopsy and police report yet?”

  “Yes and I have already mailed it to you. In fact, I thought that was the reason for your call. I think you will find it very interesting. You must call me right away, once you have read it.” His tone was unmistakable. The keeper of the keys, Randolph had discovered something of great significance.

  “Randolph, don’t make me wait, tell me,” she demanded.

  “No, I would like you to read it. You will need to read it anyway to understand, just call me once you have. I mailed it two days ago so you should have it. Did you pick up today’s mail yet?”

  “No. Now that’s all I will have on my mind for the rest of the day. Maybe it’s in my mailbox. I’ll get back to you once I’ve read it but you need to help me with this Sunday meeting with Greely. There is so much I need to find out and I’m not sure how to do it without just coming right out and asking and I can’t do that.”

  They talked a short while more about Sunday and also discussed Ted’s new project then promised to talk again soon.

  The closed sign was up and the doors to Dead People’s Stuff locked immediately at five o’clock. Lena skipped her usual stop at the bakery, much to the disappointment of the-seagulls-in-waiting, and rushed to check the mail.

  As Randolph predicted, his letter was there. She headed to the beach with Pepper; he ran off onto the sand while Lena took her usual place on the bench. Hastily she ripped open the envelope. Randolph used a yellow highlighting pen to direct her attention to the significant information entailed in the reports:

  Blood Ethanol: 0…bruise under mentum… massive swelling on the face… multiple bruises…source of the subcutaneous emphysema…forced bile and stomach contents into passages…

  She quickly read the highlighted text on the police report.

  “Pepper! Come on Pepper! Pepper!” she shouted out across the beach. He was used to more running time and saw no reason to change his routine; he paused with a quick look Lena’s way then continued his exploring. One more very loud and very stern call of his name had him compliant. She jogged back to the cottage with Pepper at the full length of his leash, resisting, behind her.

  “Randolph,” she said out of breath while clutching the receiver.

  “You got the reports.” The receiver was balanced between his shoulder and chin so he could finish pouring his freshly made coffee.

  “My God, Randolph. She wasn’t drinking; there was no alcohol in her system!” Lena stopped to take a breath and calm herself before continuing. “The time. Look at the time line of events. It wasn’t possible. What Greely claimed wasn’t possible! Why the fuck didn’t someone notice this, the police at least!” She caught herself and apologized to Randolph for using the “F” word.

  “Oh the fuck word, immutable for my past seventy plus years; no need to apologize.” The spiraling cord on the receiver to the kitchen wall phone had to be at least twenty feet long, stretched and drooping and suitable for Randolph. With receiver in hand, he moved to the other room where he could sit at his desk and review the reports along with Lena.

  “She had bruises. Damage to her spleen. And the police report, it says rigor mortis had set in by the time she arrived at the hospital. Dying in the truck? She had been dead for hours, Randolph. Hours!” Lena took another deep breath. “Did you read where it says her right arm was rigid and her left wasn’t? You know what that is!” Before he could reply, she launched into a hurried explanation. “Cadaveric spasm. You know what that is, don’t you? When something happens when dying, something that causes the muscles to tighten so intensely that they stay that way after death--extreme exertion! You know, when someone is using every last bit of their muscle power. Lauren was right handed; it was her right arm. That son of a bitch, that fucking son of a bitch---” again she apologized for her language.

  Randolph was on top of every aspect of both reports.

  “My God. No way was she out of it, passed out drunk, and choked on her own vomit. There was no way, Randolph, no way. There wouldn’t, couldn’t be cadaveric spasm if she had.” She thumbed through the report. “Blood had settled in her body; she had been dead for some time. It would have been obvious to anyone so what’s this shit about he wasn’t sure she was dead or not. Why aren’t the police doing something? The hospital had to make some kind of report of a suspicious death, right?”

  Randolph held back and let her get it out without interruption.

  “It states cause of death was due to aspiration of vomitus, but she wasn’t drinking, Randolph. So, why would she vomit? More so, why would she vomit and choke to death in the process? She didn’t vomit in her sleep! Did she? Why would she choke to death on her own vomit? What’s this about seizures with a question mark?” She exhaled, paused, then continued. “Didn’t anybody, anybody official, take notice of this autopsy? Look at the police report! No way could this have happened like Greely said. No effing way! Did Ben read this report?”

  “Ben has flown to Europe with his new wife.”

  “Did someone call him about this?”

  “No, Lena, I think that is exactly why he flew to Europe. I believe he wants to try to escape this entire incident. Ben is not doing well, let’s let him have his time to recover with the new wife.”

  “If Ben says she died while drunk from choking on her own vomit, that had to be what was told to him, right?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Possibly? Then where did he get that? There was no alcohol in her system?”

  “I know.”

  “So what official would tell him that? This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Well, Lena, this is part of the mystery isn’t it?”

  “Did he read the autopsy report?”

  “I don’t know but I don’t believe he did under the circumstances.”

  “He couldn’t have. And what medical person or cop would tell him she was drunk if there was no alcohol in her blood!”

  “My guess, Lena, he was told she had a seizure---“

  “But she’s never had a seizure,” Lena interrupted. “She doesn’t
have seizures. There’s a question mark. Oh fuck! Let me calm down a second.”

  “Of course.”

  “Millet may be a small town but a doctor is a doctor and they’re not the Keystone cops so how can all this be left as is?”

  “I don’t believe he read the autopsy report. If Greely said she was drunk and the medical report, or what was told to him, was a suspected seizure, well, you can see---”

  “No, I can’t. Did he read the police report?”

  “The time lines may be suspect but that doesn’t confirm any medical findings. I don’t think Ben read the police report and it wouldn’t dispute cause of death. Remember, Lauren had been hospitalized for pancreatitis.”

  “So what are the symptoms of pancreatitis?”

  “Lena, pancreatitis can be a result of the drinking. Seizures are also associated with chronic alcoholism. You can understand Ben’s conclusion, though I don’t know who told him she had been drinking at the time of her death.”

  “And the autopsy states that she hadn’t been drinking at the time of her death,” Lena reiterated in frustration.

  “I don’t believe Ben read the autopsy. I don’t know that he talked with the medical examiner. If he spoke only with the police and Greely, well, who knows.”

  “Who called him?”

  “I believe it was Greely who called him.”

  “Why Greely? Why wouldn’t the police call him?”

  “I’m sure they did but I believe Ted said that they called Greely and Greely called Ben first.”

  “Still, this makes little sense to me.”

  “I did a little looking into a few things on my own. Did you know that the medical examiner is related to Greely? That they spoke on the phone?”

  “What else?”

  “Not much else. Millet is a small town. If they’re not related, it’s like they’re related.”

  “Confuse me more.” Lena wasn’t sure what Randolph was trying to say.

  “Lauren lived in that small town for some time. We know how friendly Lauren is, friend to all if they want to be or not.” Randolph let out a small laugh. He found Lauren’s gregarious behavior towards strangers often amusing. “Yet no one showed up for the funeral. Does that say anything to you?”

  “I asked Greely about that in the truck but his answer was useless.”

  “I think the town knows something that we don’t. I think a lot was said by their absence. I think the waitress at the coffee shop knew that something. Ben was so filled with grief he may have taken someone else’s lead without suspicion. Ted said that his new wife, her name is Janet isn’t it?”

  “Yes, her name’s Janet.”

  “Well, Janet took care of a lot of details for Ben.”

  “That explains the crappy funeral home,” she said without apology.

  “He had little reason to be suspicious. They get a call from Greely telling him that Lauren was drunk by the river in terrible condition. He takes her to the hospital where she is pronounced dead. The police take their report from Greely and report it to Ben—same story. The medical examiner, a relative of Greely, states possible seizure. Put it all together in a state of grief then hand it over to Janet to make the final decisions, well, what more can I say to explain this? It’s how I see it as of now.”

  “It still doesn’t make any sense to me. Did you show this to Ted?”

  “I tried.” Randolph took a sip of coffee. “Well, Lena, we now know Lauren did not die as a result of a drinking related incident or accident. She apparently did choke to death but it had nothing to do with alcohol.”

  “My heart is racing. I feel like a cigarette, the only good reason for a cigarette.” Lena didn’t have cigarettes. “Hold on a minute.” Lena raced out the front door to the neighbor’s cottage to borrow a couple of cigarettes. Taken aback by Lena’s hurried manner, Helga handed her five cigarettes--unaware Lena smoked--without question and watched as Lena disappeared back into her cottage with Pepper at her heels. Lena set the old habit on fire and paced while she and Randolph poured over the information in the reports.

  “She wasn’t drinking but she choked to death on her own vomit. Could she have had a flare-up of the pancreatitis and that caused her to be in severe pain, so much pain that it overwhelmed her and she choked while vomiting?” Lena pondered.

  “Well, why would Greely say that she was drinking? Why would he feel the need to lie about so many things? Oh, he is not innocent here but we don’t know the extent of his guilt.”

  “If nothing else, he should be shot for telling Ben that Lauren was drinking.”

  They theorized and talked until Randolph felt Lena had sufficiently calmed down. They made a loosely gathered plan for Sunday.

  Dreaded and awaited, Sunday arrived. Lena placed a micro recorder in her purse as Randolph had suggested and left for Jumpin’ Java. She practiced her gregarious front on the ride down, smiling and checking the look in her eyes in the rearview mirror to see if she was successfully hiding her true feelings. She did well.

  Seeing Lauren’s red Fiat in the parking lot brought feelings of anger more than sadness as Lena pulled alongside it. The two cars parked side by side made such a familiar configuration from the past that Lena had to smile, briefly.

  Greely sat inside, waiting, looking wholly out of place. His hair again dirty and plastered to his head but with a distinct part this time. He balanced the oak chair on two legs resting his head against the wall. His hand wrapped around a bottle of beer while the glass sat empty on the table. Lena observed then steadied herself, geared up her fake smile and entered Jumpin’ Java. Greely plopped the chair back onto four legs when he saw her, waved her to the table and let his eyes roam her body like a mosquito looking for a vein. His shirt was black but the dirt was still evident as it was on his faded black jeans and hunting jacket.

  “You lookin’ good, Geezer.” Greely tipped his head back.

  She acknowledged his comment with a side smile as if coyly accepting his compliment. Greely had that same odd smell about him. Lena promptly excused herself to get an espresso. It was a relief to see Chantra, a regular customer of Dead People’s Stuff. She was working the counter. They exchanged greetings; it was always a pleasure to see each other. She asked if Lena had come across any old wood dough bowls. Lena told her about a primitive wood bowl at the store that was made by the Tarahumara Indians and offered to put it aside. Chantra’s attention was divided between listening to Lena and examining Greely. She leaned forward and asked in a hushed voice, “And where did you come across him?”

  Lena whispered back, “Oh God, it’s a long story. He looks pretty scary huh?”

  “He’s really scary looking and he’s been staring at me for the past half hour, creeping me out; please take him with you when you go.” She pulled back and told Lena at a normal volume that she would be down to the store to check out the bowl.

  Greely observed the whispered exchange. He was quick to ask Lena why Chantra was “whispurn to ya.”

  “Greely, that’s private,” Lena answered lightheartedly, making light of the inquiry. “Okay, you have my curiosity, what do you have for me that was Lauren’s?”

  “Hold on, hold on. Can’t we talk some? I drove all this way so I could talk with ya.”

  “Of course, I am just really curious. You can’t blame me.”

  “It’s in my car; I’ll get it for ya, don’t worry, Geezer, I’ll give it to ya.”

  It sickened her to hear him refer to Lauren’s car as his own and use Lauren’s nickname for her. She wanted to address those issues but gut instinct told her to let it go, focus on the reason for his lies.

  “So, how have you been doing?” Lena asked. She hid her repulsion and uneasiness well. She needed a comfortable meeting for Greely to believe she enjoyed his company.

  “Well Geezer, I ain’t been doing so good. I miss mey girl….”

  She listened to him sermonize about the loss of love and the tragedy of be
ing alone after such a love affair. It was nauseating to Lena but she feigned sympathy and concern about his emotional well-being. She could stomach little to contribute and merely presented a compassionate ear. He left the table for another beer and at the same time, Lena departed to use the restroom. Her plan was vague. She had thought hard of how she would segue into questions about the circumstances of Lauren’s death. Lena reached into her purse and turned on the micro recorder before returning to the table. Greely was sitting with his head back, neck extended with the beer bottle elongated from his mouth like a coyote howling. She placed her purse between them on the table, steadying it by leaning her arm across the top. To get the ball rolling, and to hide her anxiety, Lena began conversation immediately.

  “You know, Greely, you never did tell me how you met Lauren and when.” A good place to start.

  “Ya wanna know, okay, I’ll tell ya if ya wanna know. She was singin’. Mey and mah buddies was having a few beers and she was singin’ in that place.”

  “What place? In Millet?”

  “Yep, in Millet, in the coffee shop.”

  “That coffee shop where we went at her memorial?” That dump, she thought to herself.

  “That’s the place, ahright.”

  “That place? It looked so run down. There was no stage or anything. Why would she be singing there?” The scene was hard to imagine. Greely’s answer was a bit defensive, exalting the broken down coffee shop to club status. He said that she was singing and playing her guitar at the coffee shop with a full capacity audience. He talked about how friendly and sweet she was, which was typical of Lauren. That is how they met, according to Greely, and their budding romance and engagement stemmed from that evening.

  “Was she drinking beer at the coffee shop?” She didn’t recall alcohol on the menu.

  “Yeah, we was all drinking. B.Y.O.B.” He laughed and continued, “Hell Geezer, Saturday night, party. Don’t you drink no mohre?”

  “Well, that wasn’t my point. Lauren quit drinking some time ago. Are you sure she was drinking?”

  “She was drinking, not like the rest of us. She didn’t drink too much but she would suck a few brew now and then, ya know, not gettin’ drunk or nuthin, a few beers. Who are you?” he laughed. “You like that old lady who chopped up bars?”

  “Carrie Nation.”

  “What nation?” he laughed. “No here, that old lady who chopped up bars and shit here, in America. Don’t ya know yer histrha?” He laughed but not the kind of laugh that made one want to join in.

  Lena continued, “So she was drinking again?”

  “Yep, that’s right I guess. She was drinkin’ again.”

  “Was she drinking, you know, when she died? Was she drinking down at the river and do you know what she was doing by the river?”

  “Why all the questions, Geezer?”

  “My best friend is dead, Greely, and I’d like to understand more than I do now. Was she upset with life, is that why she was drinking or did something happen? I mean, why was she by herself by the river drinking?”

  “She liked to take walks in the woods. I guess she was doing that. I wasn’t home.”

  “Was your roommate Billy home?”

  “No. I got home and saw her car so I went lookin’ for her and found her, like I told ya before.” His grieving fiancé façade took on a different face.

  “Ben told me she had been drinking and was so drunk she choked on her own vomit. Is that how it happened?” She moved closer to Greely, moving her purse closer with her.

  “That’s what happened,” he said with a laissez-faire attitude and irritatingly casual tone.

  “How are you sure that’s what happened?”

  “What is this, Geezer, you the FBI or somethin’?” he joked and took another audible gulp of beer.

  “Greely, she was my best friend. I want to know what happened and you were her fiancé so you would have been the closest to her and you were there. You can understand, I love her.”

  Greely extended his neck and lips and finished the bottle.

  “Was there a bottle by her when you found her?” Lena continued.

  “I think there was, but hell, I was trying to save her, help her. Wasn’t payin’ no attention to no bottles n’ shit.”

  “Could you smell alcohol on her, is that what told you she had been drinking or was it the doctors that told you?”

  “Oh, I could smell it ahright. I didn’t talk much to them doctors at the hospital. I went n’ got all fucked up with Billy. I was fuckin’ upset, Geezer. My fiancé was dead, fuckin’ hell, ya know?”

  “Then---“

  Greely immediately cut her off. “Let’s talk about you, Lena.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanna know about you. I feel like I sorta know ya, she talked about ya but you talk about ya, so I can get ta know ya.” Greely leaned back putting his chair back on two legs again in a carefree manner yet his eyes said otherwise. His guard was up. She felt it best not to push the subject of Lauren, albeit that was his pretense for the visit. She displayed a more relaxed posture in her chair and pulled her purse from the table onto her lap.

  “Well, what do you want to know about me?” she asked insouciant, adding a light smile.

  He asked about her business, about the name--he didn’t seem to understand. He wanted to know where she lived and about her boyfriend. She gave minimal answers, said little about her business, lied about the fictitious boyfriend and sidestepped the exact location of her home. It appeared that the last thing Greely wanted to talk about was Lauren.

  “I’d love to see what you brought me.” Lena looked straight into his eyes and smiled. He raised his eyebrows, pleased; he took it personally. It made him instantly agreeable.

  “Come on, let’s go to mey car.”

  Chantra gave Lena the thumbs up as they left for removing Greely from the establishment. Lena walked across the parking lot a comfortable distance from Greely, and his odd smell, though he tried to inch closer. The short walk seemed like a mile by the time they finally reached the Fiat. He leaned down and grabbed something off the seat then held his closed hand up to Lena’s face. Slowly he uncurled his fingers revealing a silver necklace bunched in his palm. It was the silver angel that Lauren had worn around her neck--not a cherub-like depiction of an angel or a winged woman but a winged man with muscular definition and handsome. Lena used to tease Lauren that it was a Chippendale dancer with wings. He poured the necklace into Lena’s open and very grateful palm.

  “Thank you so much, Greely. Really, thanks so much.” Her eyes began to tear. She wanted to reach out and punch Greely and at the same time embrace him for the gift he stole from Lauren that he could have well kept or sold.

  He moved closer. Lena stepped back and placed her purse on the car to free up her hands.

  “Let me help ya,” he offered.

  “I got it.” She locked the necklace in place around her neck to make sure he didn’t get it back. “I need to get going, Greely. Thanks much for bringing me Lauren’s necklace; it means a lot to me, a lot.”

  Greely appeared sincerely affected by Lena’s emotion. He said nothing, not even goodbye, he only watched, still and silent, as she got in and started her car. As a precaution, Lena drove out of the parking lot in the opposite direction to her cottage.

 

  “Okay, Sherlock, this is Watson. I just got back.” She was especially happy he was home.

  Randolph asked with a chuckle, “Are you sure it’s not the other way around? What did you discover on your date?”

  “Date? Very funny, Randolph.” She continued, “I got our conversation on the recorder. I hope you’re impressed. I put the recorder in my purse and put the purse on the table, like in a B detective movie. It worked; you can hear every word, along with Chantra yelling to people."

  “Chantra?” Randolph didn’t know where this name came into the picture.

  “Oh, she works there, at t
he counter, nice person. Anyway, oh yeah, by the way she mentioned to me that Greely was watching her before I got there and it gave her the creeps. Even she sensed there was something evil about this guy.”

  “You mean that charming fellow didn’t strike her fancy?”

  “Imagine that! But, Randolph, I got him on the recorder stating he smelled the alcohol on Lauren when he found her by the river. You have to hear this tape. And! One other thing, he gave me Lauren’s angel necklace, you know that necklace she always wore?”

  “Did Greely say how he obtained it?”

  “Well, we know she didn’t give it to him.”

  Randolph admonished himself, “I guess that was a ridiculous question,”

  “I was just happy to have it. I almost hugged him I was so happy.” She winced at the thought. “Maybe the hospital gave it to him thinking he was her fiancé. More than likely he just took it. I am just really happy to have it.” Lena placed her fingers on the angel, feeling its form and remembering how it lay against Lauren’s fair skin and how many years she wore this gift from a stranger.

  “The hospital didn’t give him the necklace,” Randolph assured.

  “At least I got the necklace, but I guess I really didn’t get any answers. It feels like a success and a failure.”

  “Be patient, this will take time. We need to be safe. We can’t bring Lauren back but we can find the truth. You did a fine job.”

  “What next?”

  Randolph advised her to put the tape in a safe place and to make sure she had plenty of cassettes because it may have been Greely’s first visit but it certainly would not be his last. As usual, Randolph was right. Barely a week had passed when Greely was on the phone to Lena, again asking to visit but this time there was no mention of Lauren, no front of the bereaved fiancé needing a sympathetic ear. Greely wanted a tour of Monterey, a tour of the sights with Lena as his guide. The idea repulsed and somewhat frightened Lena, but it served her purpose to agree.

  They once again met at Jumpin’ Java on a Sunday. She had the recorder with a fresh cassette hidden in her purse. Lena intended to show Greely the most tourist-filled sites; she even put a six-pack of beer in a brown paper bag to help loosen his defenses. Greely greeted her with a scattered-tooth smile. She was quick to hide her true feelings behind her own wide smile and pleasant hello.

  While cruising the coastal highway, they passed a group of bikers gathered at a beach vista. Lena pretended to admire the leather clad group of middle-aged men, elaborating on the appeal of “bad boys.” This had the desired effect. Greely began to promote his own bad boy reputation. He spoke of several barroom brawls, of how he didn’t “take shit from nobody” and emerged victorious except for when the “pigs” got involved. She hadn’t heard that term of slang for police since tie-dye was born.

  There was no need to turn on the recorder this trip; it was a necessary casual encounter that Lena tolerated and for Greely, a perceived advancement in winning her favor. The day was long and at the end, Lena declined his invitation to dinner. She dropped him off next to Lauren’s car and pulled out of the parking lot, again driving in the opposite direction to her home.

 

  “Randolph,” she said weakly. “You have to help me here. I don’t know where to go with this at this point. I can’t play the new best friend thing for much longer. I’d choke him if I could stand to touch him. He calls me constantly; I am wearing thin of this friendship thing. You have to help me.”

  Randolph pulled the receiver to the front porch, took a seat and responded in his usual calm manner. “Now don’t be hard on yourself. I would feel the same way. Be patient. We’re in this together. Alone together.”

  “Okay, Randolph, then you date him,” she said in jest.

  “We’ll get what we need and you’re doing fine. Just keep up the nice front for truth’s sake.” He added, “Does he talk about Lauren when he calls?”

  “No, well not much. He talks about himself. He admitted to me this last visit that he has been in jail for assault, in fact he bragged about it thinking it impressed me. I basically told him I thought tough guys were hot.”

  Randolph got a quick laugh out of that.

  “I wonder if that’s how he lost his teeth, fighting?” Lena wondered aloud.

  “It is more likely a hygiene problem or lack of proper dental care.”

  “That’s a lovely thought.”

  “I want you to call me every day, Lena. You do understand that your new friend is interested in you. He was interested in Lauren also, remember. I don’t want you to take any chances. I don’t want you to be alone with him, always be somewhere with other people around. You hear me?”

  “I don’t plan on being alone with him nor do I plan to be near him again until I have a definite plan. I appreciate your concern. I’ll talk to you later, Randolph.” Lena needed to walk Pepper so they agreed to talk later. She never imagined she would or could feel so comfortable and so close with the aged erudite--the old man so many set a mental timer to exit his company.

  Lena pretended to welcome Greely’s phone calls and claimed to be busy for the next month of weekends. He didn’t do much talking during the calls until he had finished several drinks. Once well lubricated, Lena could sit back and listen adding only a word here or there. She purchased an attachment for the receiver that would allow the conversation to be recorded when he got on the topic of Lauren. He never did. He talked about the motorcycle he once owned and how he was going to get it back; he wanted to take Lena riding. She had no intention of participating but pretended to be delighted by the offer. He told adolescent and crude jokes and Lena pretended she found them amusing. He enjoyed talking about himself: his hunting trips, drinking buddies and occasional jobs as a logger. It was when he shared stories of his mother and childhood that Lena believed she was truly gaining his confidence. He had the father from hell and for that Lena couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the child Greely and she listened and responded with the compassion of a true friend. Lena was getting to know all about Greely but nothing of the truth about his relationship to Lauren and her death. Greely pushed for another visit with each phone call. Lena needed to wait until she had a well-defined plan before another physical meeting. Greely had other plans.

  A little red Fiat drove past the store, more than once, but there were so many little red sports cars in Monterey that she didn’t give it much thought. Twenty minutes before closing, she wished that she had. There stood Greely peering through the store window like a horror puppet show. Lena excused herself from a customer and met Greely out front.

  “This is a surprise,” she said ill at ease, unable to fake a smile.

  “It’s supposed to be a saprize,” he said proudly, like a boyfriend who had flowers and a box of candy behind his back. No flowers or candy, just Greely with the same odd smell lingering about him.

  “I have a customer.”

  “I want to take ya ta dinner.”

  “I have to go home and let my dog out and some other things, Greely.”

  “I can go with ya, meet ya dog.”

  “No, that’s not a good idea.” The customer was now waiting, and watching. “He’s not a friendly dog. But, I have to get back inside; I have a customer.”

  “Aaaaah, I came all this way. You ain’t going to leave mey standing here are ya?” He was smiling and smiling and smiling and making Lena more uncomfortable by the second.

  “I suppose we can meet sometime afterwards. We can meet somewhere in town.” It appeared this encounter was unavoidable.

  “I don’t want ta go ta no coffee place; you tell mey where I can wait for ya?”

  Greely roaming the town made her uneasy. Ditching the unwanted visitor was not an option. He obviously was determined; he wouldn’t have to go too far to find her noticeably spotted car parked in town. She needed to keep Greely in the downtown area so she gave him directions to McFly’s, a trendy nightspot on the water a couple of blocks
from her store. She made the time earlier than she knew she would show up in hopes that Greely would go straight to McFly’s instead of driving around, that he would be waiting and partaking. She locked up at five and inconspicuously checked McFly’s. Greeley was standing outside smoking a cigarette.

  Pepper’s walk was a hurried one. She called Randolph but he wasn’t home so she left a message on his answering machine, “Greely showed up. I have a plan…wish me luck.” She put the recorder in her purse with a spare cassette and left for McFly’s.

  “Hey,” she shouted over the music, talk and laughter reverberating through the bar.

  Greely lifted a dripping mug of cold beer; he was using the glass this time. He seemed surprised that Lena showed up as if he expected to be stood up. He rose to greet her in a gentlemanly fashion.

  “What ya drinkin’?” he offered.

  Lena sat down, observing the crowd as she did so.

  “They have stuff, good stuff ta eat, not peanuts n’ popcorn n’ shit,” he informed.

  “Sounds good. I’m fairly hungry.” She took off her coat. “I’ll be right back.” Lena walked at a deliberate leisurely pace to the happy hour bar, checking the patronage and making a point to say or nod a hello to those she was familiar for recognition’s sake. She was relieved to see McFly’s peppered with acquaintances and many Dead People’s Stuff customers. She placed shrimp and garlic bread on her plate and chatted with those next to her under the watchful eyes of Greely. He had a beer waiting for her when she returned. Lena wasn’t a fan of beer but kept the fact to herself and thanked him.

  “I gotta get mey another plate.” In his absence, Lena took advantage of the gigantic fern between her and the bay window that gave view to Cannery Row. She discreetly poured a good portion of her beer into its base, figuring it must have had a few tastes prior and has survived so far. Greely returned, his plate overflowing with food stacked and teetering at the edge.

  “We don’t need ta go ta no place ta eat, we got dinner here,” he said with a laugh, pleased as can be. He was feeling good and, from all appearances, very comfortable. She guessed he already downed his fair share of beer before she had arrived, which fit perfectly into her cursory plan. The bar was festive as usual with a sundry of regulars and tourists enjoying the perfect nights of Cannery Row. Busy, just as Lena wanted.

  Greely asked questions about living in Monterey. How much “did it cost,” where “exackla” did she live and the like. She made up a street name and described a house unlike her own. Lena steered the conversation off Monterey and on to Greely. He enjoyed talking about himself, even more, bragging about himself. Puzzled by what Greely found as brag-worthy acts or items, Lena listened with a degree of interest. She listened to him on various subjects ever mindful that the bereaved fiancé failed to mention Lauren once.

  Lena ordered tequilas, one for her and one for Greely. She took hers with her when she went to the restroom where she poured half the tequila down the drain and replaced the missing tequila with tap water. Lena wanted Greely drunk or as near as possible and her own mind clear--the foundation of her plan. She hoped that with enough alcohol Greely would be loose, unguarded and too inebriated to realize or care as she attempted to extract truths about his relationship to Lauren and her death. It’s the only plan she could come up with on such short notice but also seemed about the best chance when it came to Greeley and finding the truth regardless.

  Lena briefly stopped at the bar on her way back from the restroom. “Richard,” she spoke to the bartender in a hushed voice “do me a favor?”

  “Sure, Lena, what can I do you for?” Richard responded, always pleasant, always accommodating, a relief to hear though Lena always found that saying quite odd.

  “Could you please water down my drinks, not the drinks of my friend over there, just mine. This is going to be a long night; I’ll explain another time.” She made sure her eyes imparted that she wasn’t joking.

  “Gotta charge ya the same, Lena, but I’ll put a cherry in it so you get your money’s worth.”

  “You’re too kind, dear Richard.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked while looking at Greely.

  “It’s a long one, trust me. Anyway,” she shook her head, “you gotta trust me, be nice to me, I know both your girlfriends. By the way, Chantra is interested in an old wood dough bowl I have in my store; make some points for yourself.” Richard grimaced. They both broke out in smiles as Lena continued on her way back to the table.

  Greely started right in about a bar in Arizona.

  “So, Greely, how are you doing?” Lena interrupted.

  “I’m doin’ ahright,” he answered, bewildered by the interruption and question.

  “Are you getting along better now?” she asked.

  “Geetin’ along better?” It slipped his mind that he was distraught over the loss of his fiancé and visiting with her best friend to help pull him from the pit of sorrow.

  “Without Lauren.”

  “I miss her ahright. It hurts mey, yeah. Yur helpin’ mey, Geezer.” He finished his drink then asked, “Another?” He signaled for the waitress.

  “I’m still sipping on mine.” The waitress left without hearing Lena’s protest.

  Greely was more than tipsy.

  The drinks arrived, as Richard promised, Lena’s drink had a cherry sunk in the middle.

  “What the fuck, they put a fuckin’ cherra in yur tequila, shit. That how they do here in Monterey, cherra in tequila.” Greely was amused. Lena was appreciative. He started back up about the bar in Arizona. His speech varied from loud to normal Greely, which was a bit less loud. He was friendly and getting touchy, repeatedly finding reasons to touch Lena. He was bobbing forward across the table, getting closer each time he wanted to emphasize some detail in his story. She didn’t back away but stayed steady, trying to judge just how intoxicated Greely actually was, if he were inebriated enough for her to start up the recorder and the questions.

  “Ya want another tequila with a cherra in it?” Greely laughed.

  “No, no; I’m still working on these. You go ahead though, have another.”

  “Ya like whiskey, Geezer?”

  “I’m fine, you go ahead.”

  He finished his tequila and waved his arms for the waitress. Once Greely was happy with his whiskey in front of him, Lena proceeded to move on with her plan.

  “I can see why Lauren was with you. You’re a lot of fun, easy to talk to.”

  Greely agreed that he was a fun guy, wild and crazy and always up for a good time. Lena talked but his attention was wandering to the party atmosphere that was progressively getting louder with plenty of women in short skirts, tight pants and even tighter blouses.

  “Greely!” she shouted. He leaned forward into the table to hear her better. “You haven’t been honest with me.” She slyly held her breath as she waited for his reaction. Greely backed away and sat upright in his chair. “Come on, Greely. You know you haven’t been honest with me; the pieces don’t fit. I know you loved her and I can see why she loved you.” She struggled to make her eyes and words appear sincere. “You obviously loved her a great deal.” Greely leaned his elbows back on the table, resting his chin in the palms of his rough and soiled hands. His dark eyes pierced Lena’s attempt at a sincere gaze. “You were so thoughtful and kind to come to her memorial when everyone else in that town didn’t bother.” Not missing a beat, she played on, “You were very considerate to Ben, to all of us, and I know it was hard for you like it was for us. You invited us to your home and everything, showing Ben where you found her. I know you loved her, Greely, and I’m sure she loved you just as much but some things are just not making sense to me.”

  “I was thinkin’ you didn’t believe we was engaged ta be marrud.” He kept his eyes fixed on Lena’s, waiting for her reaction.

  “You’re right, I didn’t. Because, you know, she never said anything about you to me. But later, when I was talking t
o Randolph, he pointed out why she would have kept it a secret.” The bar atmosphere was getting more chaotic and the noise elevating to where Lena was near shouting. “You know,” she hollered across the table, “with the breakup of her first marriage, it wasn’t that long ago and she probably thought everyone would tell her it was too soon. You know Lauren, she does what she wants to do and she doesn’t like people interfering.” Greely seemed puzzled by her last word. “Interfering. I said interfering. That’s Lauren, that’s the way she is, or was.”

  Greely kept a steady stare.

  “No one knew much when she got married the first time either.” She leaned across the table closer to Greely. “Ben wouldn’t have approved of her getting married again so soon, not because it was you, because it was too soon. He’s her dad, he naturally would be concerned.” She stopped and waited for him to react in any way.

  “So what ya think I’m lying ‘bout?” he asked, his eyes still straightforward, the rest of the goings-on at McFly’s was no longer of interest.

  “Greely, I don’t want to shout this stuff. It’s too loud in here, let’s go somewhere else so we don’t have to shout.”

  “Ta yur place?” His eyes lost their deadlock stare.

  Lena put money on the table, grabbed her coat and waved for Greely to follow her. Once outside, Lena said that she would like to sit at the beach so they could talk with only the sounds of the ocean around them. Greely was high and compliant. She walked with him across the plaza making a point to wave and smile at those she knew as she passed the windows of McFly’s. Her intention was to make people aware of her company and destination and for Greely to be aware that people noticed. They took the steps that led down to the beach next to the pier, the pier that supported the back half of McFly’s and allowed for a magnificent view. She invited him to sit by her side at the base of the steps. They said nothing at first. The moonlight scattered and skipped across the dark water. Tourists’ voices played in the background. They sat, quiet.

  Lena moved back, up one step, slightly behind Greely. She told him she was warmer there because his body blocked the breeze off the water. In the maneuvering, she was able to reach into her purse and flick on the recorder. She hugged her purse to her chest as if it were assisting in warding off the chill, but in truth, it placed the recorder closer to Greely’s face, and ultimately, his words.

  “Greely, you have to tell me what you know about Lauren’s death,” Lena brazenly began her inquiry.

  “What the fuck ya talkin’ bout, I told ya about her death. What else do ya wanna know, shit.” Greely was suddenly agitated and his manner startled Lena but the ball had already started to roll.

  “I don’t want you to take this wrong, Greely, or think badly of me.”

  “You ain’t makin’ sense.” With a softer tone he added, “I like ya, Geezer.”

  “I like you too, a lot. I just know that things aren’t connecting. I can’t figure out why, why you aren’t telling me the total truth. Don’t get me wrong, Greely, I know you loved her and obviously she loved you but you aren’t telling me the truth.” She could feel her heart pound; she was nervous and afraid yet did her best to appear relaxed, calm and ever the trustworthy friend. The image of Lauren kept her steady and willing.

  “Whatya sayin’ here, Lena? You ain’t makin’ much sense, ya know. Whatya think I did, or whatya sayin’ I did?” He spoke softly. His manner softened too. He sounded almost sweet and vulnerable, yet Lena knew better. He was vulnerable like a baby rattlesnake.

  “I know you know what I’m talking about. You know where you weren’t quite telling the truth. I know it. You know it. I want to know why. I want to know the truth that’s all.”

  “We playin’ a game here?” He stared forward watching the waves as they splashed against the rocks. His tone was serious yet not angry as she had expected or feared.

  They danced around the subject, exigent and vague--a hornet’s nest hanging a bit too close for either of them but Lena had to know. She stood up.

  “I need to go then, Greely,” she said, intentionally displaying her frustration.

  He reached over and grabbed her calf with a firm hand. She didn’t resist, but stopped in place and waited. Lena spoke first.

  “If you want to talk, be honest with me, I would love to stay but I can’t go along with any bullshit regarding Lauren, Greely.” Lena’s voice affirmed she was immutable; she was leaving if he was not forthcoming and Greely, surprisingly, got the message.

  “Sit down,” he said, still holding her leg.

  “Only if you’re going to be straight with me.”

  “Tell mey what ya think I’m lyin’ ‘bout.”

  Lena sat back down on the step behind him. She placed her purse back up to her chest and leaned closer to Greely. He pulled a cigarette from this shirt pocket and lighted it. Several people passed them on the steps making their way for a stroll on the beach.

  “Okay, one thing, you said she was drinking, you smelled it on her when you found her but there was no alcohol in her system. Did you read the autopsy report?” Lena waited for a response. Greely took another drag off his cigarette and remained silent. “There’s stuff about her, about her past you talked about that I know isn’t true.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m not going to play this game, Greely. I know and you know; I just want to know why you said them.”

  “Does her daddy and the others think I’m lyin’ too?”

  “No, just me. I’m the one who spoke with you, not them. They all think you’re an upstanding guy, mountain man type a guy.” He laughed at the description of the mountain man. He liked the image; it gave him a certain rugged status, in his mind. “That’s how you are described, as a mountain man and they like you.” His pleasure with the impromptu description helped ease the building tension. She asked in a non-accusatory manner, “So tell me, Greely. What put Lauren by the river?”

  Greely hemmed and hawed, and chain-smoked, while Lena waited a considerable amount of time. To keep in her company, now and in the future, Greely realized he would have to answer at some point. He had to think. He now had to decide whether he could trust Lena.

  She had never seen him so pensive. He looked like a different person. She believed whatever was coming next was going to be sincere. Even if he were to walk away, she knew he meant it and would not be coming back.

  “What really happened Greely?” she uttered as if a confidant, a trusted friend.

  Direct and lacking due emotion, Greely began the story. He continued to drag on his cigarette and stare out towards the pier while he told the story from the beginning to Lauren’s end.

  Lauren wasn’t engaged to Greely; they weren’t even dating. He was enamored with her--not uncommon. Men found Lauren appealing for many reasons; she was not only attractive and talented but also extremely friendly and very kind. She was kind to others even to her own detriment. A man pursuing Lauren wasn’t anything new or unusual and Lauren gave Greely, as she did everyone, the time of day, regardless of his crude manner and sullied appearance. He mistook her friendliness as leading him on.

  Lauren was leaving an AA meeting when Greely confronted her at her car. They were alone; he planned it that way. He believed he could win her over. He just needed time alone with her. Lauren didn’t initially comprehend Greely’s oddly aggressive manner as serious. She smelled the beer, thought he was joking around, inappropriate but playful. He grabbed her car keys, hopped in the driver’s seat and ordered her to get in the car. Lauren was always the optimist and far too trusting. The glass was always half full in Lauren’s view, and everybody has a golden heart. She saw a man clowning around, being playful with her and no matter how feeble his attempt, she would act amused and go along so as not to offend or create a scene and drag another into an uncomfortable situation. Where Lena would have ripped the keys from the ignition and ordered him out, Lauren was just not that way. Lauren casually got into the car, smiling and goin
g along with Greely as he drove off. She tried to make playful conversation while still believing that Greely was joking around to get her attention and she was going to be a good sport. She liked interesting characters with creativity and she believed that he was just having fun. But Greely ignored her playful inquiries. Panic began to stir in Lauren when the drive turned into a long ride into the mountains. He came to the river then turned down a dirt road where, after a short distance, Greely pulled up to his trailer. She quickly tried to assess the situation as he stopped the car. Greely took the keys out of the ignition and held them tightly in his hand. Lauren assumed, hoped, he was still playing around and gave him a warm smile, a smile that evoked an unexpected response and clearer picture of her predicament.

  “You’re a fuckin’ tease. Womens don’t fuck with mey….”

  There was no doubt in Lauren’s mind, at that point, that she was in trouble. Greely’s eyes said it all. She looked to the other trailers for signs of life, anybody who might help. He raged on while slamming the car door behind him then he waited by the steps for Lauren to follow. Lauren sensed that neither reason nor a charitable heart was going to get her out of this situation. There wasn’t a soul in sight. He yelled for her to “get out of the fuckin’ car.” She opened the car door and stepped out. Assured that his powerful presence had frightened Lauren into submission, Greely turned his back on her and started up the stairs.

  As good as she was a hiker, Lauren was an excellent runner. She was off into the woods not daring to take even a few seconds to look back. It was but a minute until Greely realized his prize had bolted. Fueled by anger and beer, he took off after her. Lauren had little problem eluding him. She wove in and out through the trees and the power of luck, or some other power, guided Lauren to a rock enclosure--the same cryptic stone room Lena discovered the day of Lauren’s memorial. She slid through the opening, ducked into the corner hidden from view but only a few feet from the second opening, Lauren was ready to flee if need be. Greely would have a task fitting through the small rock opening which would give Lauren the advantage. She remained motionless.

  Greely yelled for and at her but couldn’t find her. Lauren waited, still, listening. She was in awe of the prehistoric hideaway just as Lena had been. When she believed it was safe to venture out, she exited through the small rock window with cautious confidence. Lauren decided to leave her car; she just wanted to find her way back to town. As Lauren saw it, this was but another one of life’s bizarre situation. This was just life, just part of being alive. Lauren typically took such events in stride. She had always found her way through life’s adversities, attributing such outcomes to her perpetual positive outlook and ultimate faith in the ways of the universe, or karma. She made life decisions based on building and believing in good karma. She’d get out of this unfortunate situation as well.

  Lauren would follow the river up to the road and make her way back to town. She felt certain she would run in to someone she knew along the way that would give her a ride into town and all would work out. She would go home and soon Greely, once sober, would realize he had gone too far, apologize to her sheepishly with her car keys in hand and all would be fine. Instead, an incensed Greely surprised her by the river, grabbing Lauren with an overwhelming force. He threw her onto the ground and flashed a raised fist. She moved quickly to her feet and missed the impact of his swing but only managed to get a few yards until he knocked her back onto the ground then dragged her towards the water. Lauren fought, fought hard until her petite stomach took an overwhelming blow from Greely’s boot. She buckled and curled onto her side. Greely threatened and shouted profanities as if Lauren had done some unforgivable wrong to his life. A few more kicks to the huddled and defenseless Lauren and Greely shouted his last indignities, threw the keys to the Fiat at Lauren then walked back to his trailer.

  Greely swaggered into the trailer, opened a beer, lit a cigarette and with the volume cranked up to maximum, sat alone in front of the television. Not until his roommate, Billy, came home hours later, did he realize that the Fiat was still in the driveway. He found Lauren in the same place where he had left her, motionless, on the damp ground by the river’s edge, her car keys laying where he had tossed them.

  “I wasn’t sure she was dead or jus’ knocked out but her color wasn’t right,” Greely continued.

  Lena was taking deep quiet breaths, holding and slowly releasing them away from her purse and the recorder that was capturing Greely’s moment of truth.

  “I went back an’ got Billy. He said she was dead. He thought she was dead. Fuck, Geezer, I didn’t mean ta kill her. I was jus’ pissed ‘bout she was teasin’ mey, actin’ like she liked mey, she wanted mey, ya know? She was thinkin’ she was ta good for mey.” Greely tossed the still smoking cigarette butt and lit another one. “Billy and I took her ta the hospital. They said she was dead, ya know. Fuck, man. Dead. We got the fuck outta there.” He turned to look at Lena. “It was an accident. Shit, I didn’t mean to kill her, fuck. I was pissed but I didn’t mean ta kill her or nothin’. Ya know?”

  “But Greely, wouldn’t the hospital have questions? They just let you go without, without calling the police or making a report or what?”

  “I answered some questions but I took off. The police talked to mey, at ma trailer and I told them I found her, by the river.”

  “But they had to ask a lot of questions. Nothing was suspicious to them?”

  “Nah, it ain’t no big city, Geezer. They don’t bring in no FBI. They ain’t suspicious of nothin’. They ask mey some questions. I answered. What were they gunna do? Hell, peoples dying up there all the time. Guess she’d been sick. She was a drinker---“

  Lena interrupted, “She used to drink and what do you mean people are dying up there all the time?” She was doing her best to keep her calm exterior.

  “They are. Lotsa reasons. You walk onto some dope farm and you ain’t walkin out.”

  “They thought her death was related to drug dealers?” Lena knew about the marijuana fields in the mountains but saw no connection to the circumstances of Lauren’s death and didn’t see how the police would either.

  “I don’t know. But she’d been sick. The police was talking about her being sick and ‘bout her drinking.”

  “Sick?”

  “They said she’d been sick, in the hospital. The doctor said she’d been in the hospital. I don’t know. I went along with them…” Greely talked on. Lena got what she wanted. The lousy police work didn’t much matter now. Her mind turned temporarily to Randolph and what would he want to know before she ended this.

  “What about her things in your house? I don’t understand how they got there.”

  “That stuff was all in her car. I took it out and put it in the room. Billy and I had to figure somethin’. Ya know, if I intended on killin’ her well, I’d have done it different. I didn’t want to kill her; it was an accident. I don’t want to get fried for no accident. Billy and mey came up with a story. It cudda been true, ya know. Ya’ll believed it.” He turned back towards the sea. “Things jus got outta hand.”

  “I just have one more question. Did you call her father with the news?”

  “Yeah, I called Ben but the police did too, I think.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said she had a seizure, was probably drinking too much. I found her and took her to the hospital but she didn’t make it. That’s all I told him.”

  “Didn’t he ask you a lot of questions?”

  “Like what?”

  “Who you were? More specifics?”

  “I told him who I was. I mean, I didn’t say I was gunna marry her or nuthin’. I said I was her friend and I was the one who found her and took her to the hospital.”

  Lena had heard enough, she doubted she could continue the composed and intimate demeanor much longer. She needed to leave. She was beginning to feel physically sick.

  Greely apologized repeatedl
y and she, in turn, reassured him that she understood it was an accident.

  “Well, at least I know what happened and it all makes more sense.” That was a lie. “I understand you didn’t mean to kill her. It was a horrible, a horrible accident. I appreciate your honesty, Greely. Thank you for telling me the truth.” She expressed sincere appreciation for his candor and promised, as a trusted friend would, to keep his secret. She backed her promise of secrecy with the fact that telling someone would not bring Lauren back; it was done and there was no point in exposing the truth to anyone. She even added that it was best that Greely not tell anyone else, “…tell no one! Keep everything you told me to yourself from now on. It’s best. Trust me.”

  Greely agreed.

  “Greely, you shouldn’t drive. You’ve had a lot to drink.” Lena stood up. The ocean breeze helped cool the beads of sweat stemming from her emerging nausea. She started up the steps. Greely didn’t follow. She had to think clearly. She touched the angel hanging from her neck and counted silently in her head to calm herself.

  “Are you coming?” She turned and looked at Greely.

  Greely trotted up alongside her.

  “You can’t drive; you’ve been drinking and it’s a long way.” The hotel came into her narrow field of vision; it was a four-story pricey hotel across from McFly’s that looked out over the bay—new, built for tourists.

  “I’ll get you a room.” She began walking towards the hotel.

  “Hey, Geezer, I ain’t payin’ for no fancy hotel jus to sleep it off.” He stopped to size up the hotel. “I’ll go ta yur place.”

  Lena stopped and loud enough for him to hear her but without turning to look at him said, “You can’t, for lots of reasons, Greely. I’m paying, don’t worry about it.”

  “I can’t let ya pay.”

  “Yeah, you can. I’m a business owner here; I get a discount. They get a discount with me and I get a discount with them. Come on. They owe me.”

  He acquiesced, smirking like a winner.

  There was no mutual discount plan among business owners. Lena paid for the room and handed Greely the key.

  “Ya comin’ up?” he asked, casual and upbeat no longer speaking in the somber manner of his confession.

  “I’ll walk you to your room but I need to get home. My dog is locked up in the house. I have things I need to do before tomorrow. I didn’t expect to go out tonight.” They climbed the outside stairs to the second floor without speaking, both absorbed in their own sides of the same predicament--Greely admitted he killed Lauren.

  “Ya wanna come in?” Greely was a few feet inside the door while Lena remained on the walkway.

  “No. I really have to get back.” She stepped farther back and took a good look at Greely; she found him grotesque and again felt sick to her stomach.

  “See ya tamarra?”

  “Yes, I think so. I should be able to. I need to get going but I should have time tomorrow. Call me in the morning.” She felt as if the blood was draining from her body and she could feel her skin turning pale. “Please wait until you have had a good rest before you get into your car to drive. They’re pretty tight on DUI’s out here, don’t chance it.” She wanted him to stay put as long as possible so she could figure out what to do and she didn’t want another death caused by a drunken Greely behind the wheel, drunk by her doing. She turned toward the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Greely continued to talk as Lena hurried down the walkway.

  As she crossed the street, trying her best to walk at a normal stride, Lena could feel Greely watching her. She wanted to run to her car as fast as her shaky legs could transport her and drive straight to the police station with Greely’s recorded confession yet she wasn’t sure if that’s what she should do. With great effort, Lena coolly walked up the street until out of his view then ducked behind a building and vomited. Her hands were trembling. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and allowed herself to break her composure, and cry.

  “Wait, Pepper, wait,” Lena scolded as he jumped at the door. The phone cord wasn’t like Randolph’s and it had a limited range. She anxiously waited for Randolph to pick up but he wasn’t answering. “Oh shit, oh shit.” She paced back and forth with Pepper at her heels. Lena grabbed his leash and the recorder out of her purse. “Hurry and go, Pepper.” Pepper did his usual casual hunt for the perfect twelve spots to lift his leg. Pepper’s ears perked and his head tilted inquisitively at the screech of the rewind. Lena followed Pepper around the yard while listening to Greely’s cruel voice on the recorder. She had it all on tape. The capable little recorder did its job well. She was relieved and grateful that everything fell into place as planned.

  “Okay, Pepper, come on.” Lena reeled in his leash and went back into the cottage to try Randolph one more time. Still no answer and his machine was off. Lena decided to call the local police station to speak with Officer Bradley. She had to talk to somebody; this couldn’t wait until morning. He wasn’t on duty. Lena paced the floor clenching Greely’s confession in her hand. Pepper eyes darted from Lena to the cookie jar--back and forth then back and forth until he got Lena to do as he wished.

  “Got it,” she said aloud. “Got it, got it, got it.” She remembered she had Officer Bradley’s home number from when she picked up the cowboy boots for his girlfriend.

  “Hi, this is Lena. If you’re there please, please pick up the phone. I’m sorry to bother you at home and this late. Please pick up the phone….” And he did.

  “Officer Bradley, this is incredibly important. I don’t know where to start, but I swear, oh God, I need your help….”

  They met at Dead People’s Stuff. Officer Bradley came alone. He listened to her story once more and then he listened to the tape.

  “Does he know you have this place?” Officer Bradley asked referring to her business. She nodded yes and then asked him to take a look at the autopsy report. With the significant points highlighted in yellow, he briefed the report then asked if Greely knew where she lived. She shook her head no.

  “Okay, Lena, you need to go back home. I’m going to need this report and the tape to take with me for now---“

  “What are you going to do?” Lena interrupted. Her stomach was twisting and she told Officer Bradley she worried that Greely may leave the hotel before morning. He may even be near the store at that moment.

  “I’m not in uniform and I drove Lisa’s car. If he sees me here, he won’t know I’m a cop-- might think I’m your boyfriend or who knows but not a cop,” Officer Bradley reassured then offered to follow her home as an added precaution.

  “I want this guy to pay for what he did to Lauren, but I admit, right now, I’m afraid of him and what’s going to happen. He’s so close by….”

  “You need to leave it up to the authorities for now and you need to get home so I can move on this.”

  “Can you move on this? Can you do something? I don’t know what procedure is. Can you arrest him from what’s on the tape?”

  “I’ll do something. He probably has a warrant on him for something else. Just let me take care of this for now and let’s getting moving.”

  Officer Bradley followed her home, waited for Lena to close the door behind her then did a quick search in the neighborhood before speeding off for the station.

  Accompanied by Officer Hernandez, and with the sounds of tourists still enjoying the ocean side town below, Officer Bradley approached the hotel room door. The light in the room glowed through the peephole like a penlight. He knocked on the door. Officer Hernandez stepped back to the railing and leaned over to check if the Fiat remained parked. It was. Officer Bradley raised his fist and knocked progressively harder figuring he was waking Greely from a drunken sleep. The tiny light from the peephole went dark for an instant.

  “He’s in there, awake.”

  Officer Bradley instructed Greely to open the door.

  “I’ll get a key from Jessie,” said Officer Hernandez. As he left for t
he front desk, Greely leaped from the hotel deck like a cat burglar. He was quick and managed to find his way under the pier, atop the rocks and to the other side of McFly’s. He darted for the Fiat with success. It was easy for Greely. He made it to the car, through town and onto the freeway with no one on his tail. It would have been smart to take the back route but Greely wasn’t smart, just brazen. He made it out of Monterey without an encounter and without much difficulty.

  Lena paced and smoked.

  “Lena?” said the voice on the other end.

  “Yes. Officer Bradley, what happened?” She was tense with anticipation and puffing on one of the remaining borrowed cigarettes.

  He explained the series of events and was concerned for her safety; Greely was somewhere out there.

  “Oh, shit. He doesn’t know where I live.” She thought for a second. “I don’t think he knows, oh God. I’m sure he doesn’t know but he knows why you were there and he knows it’s because of me. That’s why he ran. Is someone up in Millet going to go after him? Tonight? What happens next?”

  Greely called Billy from a pay phone to confess his blunder and warn him. Billy didn’t own much; he could grab all he needed in a few minutes and disappear. Greely asked him to bundle up his things including his guns and meet him. After that, they would go their separate and free ways. Before putting down the receiver, Billy chastised Greely for “fucking everything up for some pussy,” twice.

  “She gunna be sorra she opened her fuckin’ mouth, gawdam cunt.” Greely instantly became focused more on revenge than a faraway escape.

  “Well, keep me out of this one, man. I’m outta here and from now on I don’t know you and you don’t know me, Greely. Hang up and let’s get this on the fucking road before they put my ass in jail. Your ass should be in jail, man, not mine. I didn’t do shit.” Billy hung up. He threw everything in the truck and was off to join Greely for what he hoped was the last time.

 

  “I have a gun and I won’t hesitate to use it. You don’t scare me you scum, you cold-hearted sick scum.” Lena’s fear was challenged by her anger. “You beat Lauren to death, you coward….” Greely’s calls were numerous, and venomous. He threatened in nightmarish detail. She mocked his attempts to frighten her over the phone but with seemingly little problem, he was eluding authorities and she knew that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for Greely to make good on his graphic threats. Lena’s faith in the efficaciousness of the police waned. The logic of the justice system was in serious question also. Greely had an extensive criminal record yet he was out and about to do more damage to the innocent.

  She went about her routine functionally afraid, always on edge and alert. She was afraid for Pepper’s safety as well. She soon confided her predicament and deep concerns for Pepper’s safety to her next-door neighbor. The strong and cynical woman from the “old country” was more than willing to help Lena out. She was fond of Pepper and he was welcome in her home anytime. Lena pondered bringing Pepper to work with her but he had a way of picking and choosing customers who were to, or not to, his liking that was bad for business. Helga gave Lena tremendous peace of mind when she offered to let Pepper stay with her during the day. Pepper himself couldn’t have been more pleased. It became a match made in heaven. Helga loved to cook; Pepper loved to eat. Walking Pepper got Helga out of the house and she liked it, as did Pepper. They were both happy with the arrangement--particularly Pepper, who was getting a bit portly.

  Greely’s phone calls and threats were regularly reported to the police. There seemed to be little they could do. Lena eventually agreed with Officer Bradley when he suggested that she actually should have a gun for her protection. He offered to help her purchase a handgun and, most important, to teach her how to use it properly and feel comfortable in doing so.

  Lena and Lisa, Bradley’s girlfriend, watched as Officer Bradley loaded the new handgun and with ease took aim at the paper silhouette. He had Lena load and unload the gun several times. It did make her feel more comfortable and more in control of the handheld weapon. The paper target hung, waiting for the blast to the encircled vital parts. She pulled the trigger.

  “Again,” coaxed Officer Bradley.

  The first shots were a bit jarring yet remarkably placed which pleased and energized both Lena and Officer Bradley. It didn’t take long for Lena’s focus to turn from the paper target dangling across the room to both Lauren and Pepper and how her life no longer was this idyllic existence that she worked so hard to create. She wondered if she could shoot a living thing, even if it was Greely. When she thought of the scene by the river, Lena pulled the trigger again. She felt more comfortable handling the gun but how would she handle her life on these terms.

  “Not bad,” Officer Bradley was pleased. He wished that Lisa would give it a try but she wanted nothing to do with guns. He delighted at Lena’s ability and her smooth transition from awkwardness to a relatively calm confidence.

  “Hey Lena. You’re a natural; you’ll have no problem hitting your target….”

  His flattery fell on deaf ears.

  “You sure you don’t want to vacation at the beach for a few years, Ted?” Lena was more serious than joking.

  “If you need me to come stay with you, if you’re serious, let me know. We can arrange something.” Ted responded more for reassurance than truth. He couldn’t leave his business nor could he reasonably move it.

  “Are you serious, Ted?”

  “Actually, Lena, in my heart I am, honestly, but I couldn’t move; I think you know that. Maybe you should move though. Hell, he knows where your store is. I hate to say this but I don’t think it would take much to discover where you live. Actually, it’s not that hard ya know with that little shit-mobile you drive around--the spotted wonder.”

  Lena laughed. “I know. Believe me, I’ve thought about it. I’ve been putting the top up and washing it. And, parking it in the alley behind the cottages. Fortunately, it’s small enough to snuggle up with the garbage cans. But Ted I truly love it here, everything about being here--my business, my friends, my life is exactly how I want it to be. Or was.” Her words battled with tears as she described her love for the life she had built in Monterey. “Life is perfect here. There is no more beautiful place on this planet than Monterey. It’s my heaven on earth, Ted.” She sighed, “I just don’t see how I can continue living here like this.”

  “Right. Right. That is exactly it. Look, you may not have a life if you stay in Monterey. Ya know, I still can’t believe Lauren is dead but it happened. It happened to her and it can happen to you, to anybody. I hate saying this, but you know already, that guy is a psycho and brazenfaced enough to take chances. The smart thing for him to do would be to get the hell out of California, go hide in the backwoods where he fits in but he’s whacked and set on revenge. He calls you regularly. Nothing happens to him. I don’t think he fears much. Look what he’s gotten by with so far and whatever else he has done in life. I can’t tell you what to do, you have to decide, but I can tell you what I honestly think and I think you should get out of there for a while.”

  “I know you’re right but I hate even the thought.”

  “Isn’t there somewhere you can go, somewhere you have always wanted to go, wanted to visit for a while? You can always come back, Lena, and pick up where you left off later. Lena, if you don’t put your safety first, well, Lauren didn’t survive this asshole. The guy is deranged. Eventually, he’s bound to screw up and end up in jail for something else and then they’ve got him. Or better yet, get himself killed and you’re home free. You can always come back home when things are safer.”

  “I can’t imagine leaving here, Ted.” A bit of anger took over. “I won’t. I’m not going to let him drive me from my home. I’m not leaving; I’m just not.”

  Lena relaxed on the bench, soaking up the sun, while Pepper ran by the shore. This was her form of meditation, her ritual. It only took a backfire from a passing vehicle to awaken
her to the reality of her vulnerability, and that of Pepper’s too. Lena made the decision then and there to leave her beloved life in Monterey for safer ground. With her newfound conviction, Lena gathered Pepper and his prized piece of dried and smelly seaweed, and began her pursuit to find safer ground.

  As if it were meant to be, the safer ground appeared quite quickly. A regular customer of Dead People’s Stuff offered Lena his family cabin located in an obscure small town in northeastern Pennsylvania; it was three thousand miles away and as far away from Greely as she could get without leaving the country. It all happened so quickly. The contents of her store sold instantly at a ridiculously low price on the terms that the store was emptied immediately. The immediacy and chaos of the sudden move allowed Lena to keep her emotions at bay. She tried not to look at her storefront when using the main road to take care of other business. She practiced driving by and not looking at what was her life and the sign that still proudly proclaimed her business. It was all so fast, but probably the best way to make such a move.

  The one-room, A-frame cabin with the “cozy” loft quickly turned into her cedar prison within a town she did not, nor did she desire to, fit in. Entertainment most enjoyed in the small town was shooting and trapping the local wildlife. As an animal lover, this was hard to take as it surrounded her little abode. The television’s poor reception allowed only the “Wide World of Polka” to come in clearly. Non-descendents of the locals were not graciously welcomed. When told the starting pay at her first job, she mistook the figure as an ungodly early hour to start work. The one redeeming factor the town had to offer was that it was Greely-free, but even that blessing was wearing thin.

  The few years that she managed to survive in the cedar prison passed torturously slow and were void of uplifting experiences and friendships. She did manage to find a wonderful veterinarian for Pepper and for that, she was very grateful. But Lena would vacillate between intense boredom and depression. After three years, she decided to take her chances back in California. She prayed that either Greely had given up his pursuit of her or that he was in jail where he belonged--or better yet, got himself terminated.

  Lena planned to take the southwest route back to California. She had only briefly visited the magnificently beautiful area and had wanted to return someday. This was her opportunity to do so before buckling down to restart her life in Monterey. Lena intended on resurrecting Dead People’s Stuff right away. Three years was a very long time for her but not so long for her customers and there were the perpetual tourists of Cannery Row. With her life uplifted on dreams and serious plans, she concluded her existence in Pennsylvania.

  Lena purchased a small camper trailer--one the now spot-free Karmann Ghia wasn’t capable of pulling. The only person she grew to call a friend was Pepper’s veterinarian, Lon, who fortunately always wanted to visit the coast of California. They made a temporary exchange, the little Ghia for his huge and sturdy old Cadillac that would have no problem pulling the camper. Lon would make his way out to California for a much-desired visit and they would again exchange cars. Everything was falling into place perfectly.

  Lena was up with the sun. She was more than ready for the departure and eagerly pulled onto the road out of town. Holding tight to the steering wheel, and with the vintage camper swaying and bouncing behind the gold metal monster and her Cheshire grin in place, she was on her way. She was heading back to the land of the living.

  Twelve hundred miles from home, Lena pulled into Broken Arrow for some rest and reflection before completing her long awaited and much anticipated journey back to life.

  Chapter Four

  The Scout