“Goodbye you two. Stay in touch,” Morton said, ending the call.
“He’s a good guy, Penny.”
“Yes, he is. I didn’t expect so much co-operation and keeping us up-to-date as he’s done.”
“Let’s call Steve and Ali to see if they want guests for the weekend.”
“Oh, good! I’d love that, Jim.”
“But, why don’t you plan on staying longer? Like a couple of weeks to let things cool down in San Diego. If the police are going to stop giving you protection, maybe you both should disappear for a while. Stay up here with us; Alice loves having Penny around to talk with.”
“Well—”
Steve cut him off. “What else do you have to do? You’re retired—for good this time, right? And Penny’s between jobs—if she’s going back to work—and I doubt she’s in a hurry to do that after the Ramona mess.”
“I know, I know. Penny doesn’t have to go back to work at all. We don’t need her to bring in any income since I have everything paid off: house, car, motorcycles, and money in investments. I told you I had my finances set for retirement; it works for just me or both of us. But she’ll do whatever she wants after we get settled in.”
“Yeah, she seems very independent.”
“You know, I think staying with you for a little while is a great idea.” He held the phone out so Steve could hear his conversation with Penny who had moved to his back and circled her arms around his waist. “What do you think about spending two or three weeks in Julian with Steve and Ali?”
She squeezed him, saying, “In a heartbeat! Let’s go before they change their minds. But I want to finish setting up the video recorder for remote viewing and recording on my new PC. I want to have that working before we leave; never know what you’ll find creeping around your house.”
“Not a bad idea, dear,” Steve said.
After two weeks of easy trail walking in the nearby mountains, allowing Jim’s leg to get stronger and gain more flexibility, the foursome wanted down time for rest, reading, and conversation. Ali was still demanding to hear about the James Dean events Jim mentioned on the plane trip returning from New Mexico, and the strange synchronicities Penny had hinted at. Jim left it to Penny to tell everything, preferring to hear her version and interpretations rather than his own. He found it interesting and touching that Penny told of the James Dean incidents, including Jim’s hopes for a mystic connection, with no derision. It was a story too many would tell with a subtle put-down, rolling eyes, manner. He loved her sincerity.
Penny stopped at various points in the story, offering to let Jim pick it up from there or add points she’d missed. He declined each time, knowing there was little he could add. He wanted it to be her story, too.
Penny also described their coincidental meeting on Starvation Mountain on the fifth anniversary of Annie’s death. An occasional tear slipped from her eye as she spoke of the motorcycle accident that killed Bruce, but avoiding her marital problems. She also touched on Annie and her part of Jim’s earlier life, so together with her loss of Bruce, Steve and Ali could understand the context of their relationship.
After nearly two hours of this, Jim could see exhaustion in Penny’s face and that Steve and Ali’s eyes were glazing over. “Let’s go over to that winery and see what’s on the menu.”
“Thought you’d never mention it,” Steve answered.
Julian Mountain Winery, near Ali and Steve’s place
“And I thought I knew you, Jim. You keep surprising me,” Ali said, pouring everyone a glass of Pinot Noir.
“Me too,” Steve added. I worked with you for years and never heard any of this.”
“Just never came up. And I don’t make a habit of running around telling everyone about my love life.”
“Can we do this again, occasionally, for the next few months? I feel like we’re just getting to know ourselves,” Ali asked, holding the Pinot Noir bottle up to the waiter, nodding.
“I’d love it, but are you sure you won’t get tired of us being around too much?” Penny responded.
“God no. You two are a breath of fresh air. I love living here with Steve, but we need stimulation from the outside now and then. Our house is big enough, and you two are so easy to have as guests that I’d like to do it more. Please say yes.”
“What about you, Steve, are you up for it?” Jim asked.
“I want what Alice wants. The answer is; of course. Besides, I have some new crypto projects you might be interested in. So, it’s agreed then. You’ll come up and stay for a week or two, every few weeks—until we’re tired of it.”
“Who gets to make that call?” Steve asked.
“Anyone. Anyone can and no one will question it. We’ll just know it’s time, then.”
Ali and Steve’s Julian cabin, six months later. The friendship still strong after multiple visits by Penny and Jim.
Penny and Jim had loaded their small suitcases in Jim’s Porsche, Steve standing near the driver’s side door. Penny was slipping her aviator style sunglasses over her ears, being careful to avoid snagging her hair when Jim said, “We have to break this routine for a while, Steve. I need to spend more time at the new house on the mountain over the next couple of months. The studs are all up and I want to see that the Ethernet cabling is being installed the way I want it, and that the access point and server closet is being built and wired correctly. If they don’t do it right and I don’t find the mistakes until after the walls are finished, I’ll hate myself for not being on top of things.”
“Yeah, I understand that. This place was built in the ’80s with no thoughts of home broadband and computers. I had a hell of a time getting it the way I wanted; took me months,” Steve said.
Ali walked out to join the three as Steve and Jim were finishing the conversation. “Jim just told me he needs to spend a lot of time up at the new house, double checking things that need to be right before they seal up the walls. I can’t argue with it. I’d do the same.”
“Does that mean our fun times together are ending?” Ali asked, a faux pout on her face.
“No, not at all.” Penny answered. “It’s just an interruption. After it’s done, you two will be our house guests in the same way.”
“I’d love it!” Ali answered. “But can’t we see it sooner? Do we have to wait until it’s finished?”
“No, you can come up to see it any time. How about this? I’ll wait until there’s enough completed that you can see what it’s going to be like when it’s done, and I’ll call you and we’ll meet there.”
“Why don’t we bring food and wine and have a picnic on the slab?” Ali proposed.
“Great idea. But we don’t have to sit on the slab, there’s a cool rockpile at the edge of the property overlooking the entire San Pasqual Valley. We can set up our picnic on a big, flat rock that’s there, and look at the view and sip wine!”
“Done. Looking forward to your call,” Steve said.
Two months later. A late afternoon picnic on the large flat rock at the edge of Jim and Penny’s construction site with a half-completed house in the background.
“My God, look at that view. This is beautiful. How did you find this place?” Ali asked.
“Just out riding my motorcycle one day and saw the ‘For Sale’ sign. Bought it the next week,” Jim said.
“Why is it called Starvation Mountain? Look at all the avocado and citrus trees everywhere; how ironic!”
“There actually is a historical reason. General Kearny and American soldiers fighting in the Mexican-American War were surrounded around here in 1846 with no supplies. They had to eat their mules.”
“Okay, don’t tell me anymore. I hate hearing how the animals suffered in wars back then,” Ali said, frowning.
They sat around the big, flat rock, eating finger food and sipping wine from crystal glasses Ali had brought. They watched the hawks and buzzards soaring on mountainside thermals, and then coasting out high over the valley floor, watching for prey on the gr
ound. Jim pointed out the surrounding mountains, naming them, and giving their peak heights until everyone’s eyes glazed over and they had to signal for a time out.
“What, no interest in the world around you?”
“You told us all this when we hiked Volcan Mountain months ago, remember?” Penny laughed.
“Wanted to make sure you remember. Steve needs to know those peaks, so he doesn’t fly into one.”
“They’re all shown on my charts, Jim. And I always fly by my charts and NAV systems—which also have the peak heights.”
“Okay then, but no one here gets a merit badge for geography.”
“You could use a little more wine, Jim. Let me refill your wine glass. So, Penny, that little cabin we saw when we drove up here is the place you were staying in when you met Jim?” Ali asked.
“That’s the place. It’s the place that was raided when Jim and I were up in the Central Valley looking for James Dean’s ghost—or spirit—or karma, whatever . . . .”
Suddenly Jim’s facial expression changed to a look of being overtaken by a new thought. “Penny, do you think that Harley is still back there, behind the cabin?”
“God knows. I don’t care, either.”
“Well. I was just thinking; Mack went to jail while you were up here at the cabin and stayed in there for several more weeks, and then was murdered not long after being released. I doubt he made it up here to get it. And his partner, Gary, was murdered right after you moved to my place, so I doubt that he came to get it in the day or two he had left. I bet it’s still there.”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s a damn nice Harley. If it’s there, I want to see if I can arrange to buy it in an estate auction at a good price.”
“I don’t want that, or anything of Mack’s around. And you don’t need another motorcycle, dear. But, go check it out if you must,” Penny said, shrugging her shoulders and smiling at him. “I’ll never ride the damn thing!”
“Might make a great conversation piece, or it could be used as a trade-in for a newer bike. I’ll make a quick run over there, it won’t take me ten minutes. Be right back.”
He sprang up with no trace of the knee injury from the gunshot wound and trotted up his new driveway and crossed over to the gravel driveway leading to the cabin. He was in sight most of the way until he cut over to the gravel driveway. The three continued talking, Penny saying, “He can’t stop talking about the mountains he’s been on around here—”
A bright flash of light with the blood red flames of a large explosion, followed by a thunderous bang, came from the direction of the cabin. A huge cloud of dust and smoke rose into the air as small pieces of debris fell and settled on their picnic cloth.
“Jim!” Penny shrieked. “Jim! Jesus Christ that was right where the cabin is.” She jumped up and ran toward the cabin, dodging through the trees rather than taking the longer way up the driveway and back down the cabin’s gravel driveway. Steve and Ali followed her, fifty feet behind, unable to catch up because of the rough terrain between the trees.
They caught up to Penny standing at the end of the gravel drive, shocked and staring at the horror of the destroyed cabin. The back had been obliterated and the front and side walls leaned awkwardly in toward each other. The rear wall of the cabin was scattered around the lot in pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle carelessly thrown away.
“Where is he? Oh my God—everything’s destroyed. The motorcycle should have been on the far side—behind the cabin—but there’s nothing there.” She pointed at the place where the little three-sided lean-to once housed the Harley. Even the cabin’s concrete foundation fractured in places from the force of the explosion, and large sections of cinder block lay on the ground.
Steve ran to the place Penny had pointed to, but there was nothing more than splintered boards, fractured cinder blocks, roof shingles, and fragments of cabin materials.
“Oh Jesus; where is he?” She broke down in tears, hunched over, with both arms clasped across her stomach. Ali ran to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace, trying to console her.
“Oh God, I don’t want to lose him, Ali, I love him so much.”
Trying to console her and give a reason for hope, Ali answered, “Maybe we’ll find him farther out from the cabin. Maybe he wasn’t that close and just got knocked down and is in the trees somewhere, unconscious.”
Choking back tears, Penny said, “Let’s look around the edges of the clearing.”
The three walked in circles on opposite sides of the clearing, hoping to find Jim, uninjured, lying against a tree, but fearing they’d find only body parts. Steve called 911 as he headed toward the area of the lean-to where the Harley would have been stored.
As Steve neared the spot of the missing lean-to, he saw a hand extending out from under an intact, eight by eight piece of sheet metal. “Here! Here he is,” Steve shouted. “He’s under this big piece of sheet metal.”
Penny and Ali ran toward the place where Steve was struggling to lift the big piece of corrugated sheet metal. Fear and hope tore at Penny’s mind: What would they find under that piece of metal? Had it protected him, or did it maim and tear into him with its sharp edges? Would he be alive, or . . . she couldn’t think of it.
They helped Steve carefully lift and slide the metal off Jim’s body. “He’s breathing but looks unconscious!” Steve loudly said, unable to restrain his emotions.
“Oh God, look at those cuts on his face and arms,” Penny moaned. “Call 911 again, please, Steve. Tell them we’ve found him.”
Steve called 911 to give them the update and ask about their progress in reaching the site. He verified they knew how to get to the cabin. Penny knelt beside Jim, trying to get a response, “Jim, honey, can you hear me? Are you awake? Please say something if you can.”
There was no response throughout the long minutes it took the 911 team to reach them, load him into the ambulance, and the drive to nearby Palomar Hospital. Penny rode in the back—again.
“He’s breathing okay—slow—but okay, and his cardio measurements aren’t too bad, ma’am.”
“How bad are the cuts? Is he going to bleed to death?”
“I don’t think so. None of the cuts hit any arteries or major veins. We should be able to handle the worst of the cuts on the way to the hospital and take care of the rest once we’re there.”
“But why is he unconscious?”
“This.”
The medic rolled Jim’s head sideways to point out a place where he’d suffered a powerful blow to the head. There was only slight external bleeding, but the swelling had already produced a golf ball sized lump that was pushing out through his long thick hair.
“Oh, Jesus. That looks terrible.” Penny whispered.
“The driver has already told the ER we’re going to need neuro people when we get there.”
Four a.m., twelve hours after the explosion
The neurosurgeon sat down beside Penny. “We’ve inserted drainage tubes into his head to get the fluid off his brain. It’s not blood, and there’s no internal bleeding inside his head, but there is fluid collecting on his brain that is causing pressure, which has to be relieved.”
“What now, doctor?” Penny asked.
“Wait. We wait until the fluid has drained out, and the pressure comes down—and hope he recovers consciousness. Then we have to see that there’s no recurrence of fluid buildup again before we can say he’s out of the woods.”
“What if the fluid continues to collect there?” Penny asked.
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. If it does, it’ll require major surgery to find where it’s coming from and what’s causing it. From there, it’s hard to say. Major cranial trauma cases are unpredictable.”
“Jim, honey, can you hear me? Are you awake?”
Hunched over in her chair at Jim’s bedside, arms wrapped around her stomach, crying intermittently for hours, Penny had been waiting for any sign that Jim was coming out of the near coma the doctors had
put him in. She’d repeated the hopeful questions to the unresponsive Jim so many times she was losing hope. Penny couldn’t believe where she was again, so soon after the experience in New Mexico. It seemed like a nightmare—but it was real—too real. God, what will I do if I lose him?
“Penny, is that you? Are you crying? I’m coming, dear, I’m coming.” Jim muttered through cracked lips, as though talking in his sleep, eyes still closed. His eyes flickered open for a second before closing again. The eye opening and closing process repeated again and again before his eyes finally snapped wide open. A lost, confused look came over Jim’s face as his eyes scanned around the room until they focused on Penny, sitting up in astonishment and hope.
She slipped out of her chair for the single step it took to get to his side and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, taking care to avoid all the tubes.
“What happened? I was running toward a cabin and that’s the last I remember.”
“We were on Starvation Mountain at the new house and you wanted to see if that motorcycle was still behind the cabin. Something exploded when you were there, and . . . now you’re here. And I’m here, and Steve and Ali are here—we’re all here, praying for you.”
Penny turned to the nurse who’d been standing off to the side and asked, “Can our friends in the waiting room come in for a minute?”
“I’ll check with the doctor, and if he says yes, I’ll go out to escort them in so you don’t have to leave.”
A few minutes later, Steve and Ali tip-toed cautiously into Jim’s little curtained area in the ER, staying back from the bed. “Hi Jim, you sure have a thing for emergency rooms,” Steve quipped, trying to lighten everyone’s mood.
Ali went around to the far side of the bed where she leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Jim’s cheek, saying, “We’re so glad to hear you’re coming out of it.”
“Hi Ali, Hi Steve. S . . . sorry to put you through this,” Jim whispered.
“Look who’s here,” Steve announced, as he ushered Detective Dale Morton into the crowded area.
Starvation Mountain Page 17
