Love Never Dies

by Loren Lockner

  Simon’s car had miraculously stopped two inches away from the twisted remainder of the metal guardrail, the foul stench of its burning tires filling the midday air. Simon was out of the car in an instant, running toward the edge of the embankment, his eyes straining for a glimpse of the hurdling silver BMV. The vehicle turned end over end through the manzanita, oaks, and pines, before finally bursting into a fiery inferno. Julia halted shakily beside Simon, his arm reaching out to steady her as she watched in horrified fascination as the flames from the blackened car began to ignite some of the knobcone pine trees it had finally lodged against.

  “Wow,” said Simon, “that was some mighty fine shooting.”

  “I killed him,” exclaimed Julia, suddenly shaking uncontrollably.

  “No, no you didn’t,” said Simon, pulling her close. “Your bullet only hit the interior of his car, causing him to lose control. It was him or us.” Simon paused, keeping a firm arm around her trembling shoulders as they gazed over the embankment at the smoke drifting upward, a single turkey vulture circling high overhead.

  Simon hauled her away from the rising smoke and gazed steadily into her blurry green eyes. “Look Julia, I’m sure we don’t have very much time since the authorities should be here in a matter of minutes. I didn’t tell you this, but this morning I finally managed to get hold of Stan. An associate of Adam Gable’s waylaid him at UCLA and stuffed him into the trunk of his own car. I’d asked him to drive up to the camp and meet us, so that’s why you were able to connect with him on my cell. I want you to sit down right here on that rock and keep an eye on the burning vehicle while I make a call.”

  He distanced himself from her and dialed the number. The surrounding hills made the line echo but because Stan was relatively close he was able to relay a brief but insistent message. Julia didn’t pay attention to the stilted conversation, instead folding her arms across her chest as she peered at the black clouds pouring over the embankment.

  She roused to observe Simon feverously going through the trunk. The blue sports bag where they’d stuffed their clothing and few belonging sat upon the gray pavement and Simon was going through it, removing and stuffing her articles of clothing into a large plastic bag.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her throat suddenly dry.

  “Stan Garten, the police officer assigned to this case and trying to protect you for a long time, should arrive within ten minutes, hopefully before any other authorities arrive. You’re going to get into his vehicle and head in the opposite direction.”

  “But what about you?” she squeaked.

  “I’m not going with you. From what Stan related to me this morning it’s not going to end here with Adam Gable. He might be dead, but someone else will take his place until Alletti’s certain I’m history. Most likely, as long as I’m alive, they’ll try to take you out as well. But I think Stan and I have figured out a way to ensure your safety and provide you with a normal future, so you’ll have to trust me Julia and listen well. Can you feel it?”

  He tapped his chest with a long, tapered finger and suddenly the warm glow indicating his undying love and devotion began to swell through her chest, easing the pain and guilt and fear caused by the bellowing smoke. Julia gazed up into the gray eyes of the man she loved and listened intently.

  “I want you to do everything I tell you. When Stan arrives, get into his car. He’ll drive you back to LA where you’ll pick up your Taurus. He moved it near the university in an effort to make it appear you left the hotel. Adam Gable already told his cohorts I have the disk, so Alletti will know you no longer have it in your possession. I want you to think about what you might have done this weekend if I hadn’t been along and none of this had happened.”

  “What?” she cried, suddenly aware of the significance of his simple words.

  “When you get back to Santa Barbara,” he continued, ignoring the desperate plea in her eyes, “you’ll tell your brother you haven’t seen me since Saturday. That I turned out just like Seth said; a womanizer and cad who took off with some woman you didn’t even know after making a pass to you which you stoutly rejected.”

  “No,” she exclaimed, her hands reaching up to grab at his arms; but he remained steadfast.

  “You haven’t seen me since Saturday, do you understand? You didn’t have anything to do with me after I offended and insulted you. Say it.”

  “Offended,” was all she could manage.

  “That’s right, I insulted you and offended you and was nothing like Seth. You fell in love with the better twin; do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” she affirmed.

  “Then, upon your arrival home, you relate to your brother that the weekend was a real eye-opener. You finally realized that life goes on and that maybe someday, in some way, there might be room for another man.”

  “No,” she moaned, “you can’t be saying this.”

  “Look into my eyes now. Do you see their color? Forget that color. Observe my hair and streak one last time and forget about it. These cheekbones, this mouth, the strange upturned scar; none of them matter Julia. They’re only identifiers to the others in the world, but we will have our own private identifiers to indicate how much we love one another won’t we?”

  His soul seared hers, and Julia gasped in pain as a lean hand slid down from her arms and touched the tattoo where it lay hidden under the denim of his pants. “Here,” he tapped and lifted his hand to his chest, “and here. This is how we know love never dies. Say it Julia; repeat the words.”

  “Love never dies, it never dies,” she cried, as the approaching whine of rubber ground against the tire-marked pavement. Stan Garten arrived much too quickly.

  “When you get into that car I don’t want you to look back. Promise me that Julia, and remember that time is of no relevance. You know what to say to your brother, parents, to everyone, so tell me now. What was Simon?”

  “A womanizer and a cad.”

  “And about our love?”

  “It never dies.”

  “Don’t ever forget it and brace yourself for whatever you might see or hear over the next few days.”

  Steven Hamilton, alias Seth and Simon Hayes, leaned down and kissed her as tenderly and sweetly as he’d ever done before. It was a lingering goodbye kiss, yet somehow held promise and her heart glowed with the unrestrained love he poured into her.

  A tan Chevy pulled up abruptly behind them and a tall, mustached man with a terrible bruise on his cheek and traces of blood on his temple opened the car door.

  “It has to be now, Stan,” said Simon shortly, and shoved the woman he loved into the passenger seat. He picked up the plastic bag and dumped it onto the seat behind her.

  “You remember what I said Stan; not a word, do you hear, not a word to anyone.” Stan nodded an affirmative while Julia numbly buckled her seatbelt. She waited as Stan reversed the car and heard Simon’s beautiful voice wash over her one last time.

  “Don’t look back Julia. I love you forever and always.” The last words faded as Stan gunned the engine and shot down the highway, driving faster than safe.

  They’d progressed no more than a half-mile down the road when a massive explosion tore the late morning air, searing the sky in one bright burst. A tremendous jolt of excitement ripped through her heart, but the continuing glow of his soul never altered, only sparked intensely as a prudent reminder before retreating once more into its banked state. Stan Garten drove for another five minutes before turning onto the main highway. Within ten minutes screaming red-lighted vehicles tore past, heading toward the mountain explosion and subsequent brush fire.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly.

  “Yes. Everything’s going to be fine,” she replied, and he nodded. She noted he was a handsome man except for the incredible lines of fatigue and the bloody battle wounds Adam’s cohorts had given him.

  He turned south on Highway 154 and then left on Highway 101, slowly heading back toward UCLA where he’d left her
Ford.

  “You need to see a doctor,” she said, noting his pallid face and clenched teeth.

  He grimaced. “I don’t deserve to see a doctor after falling for a trick like that. I spent the last eighteen hours locked in the trunk of my car until a little old lady with a bright yellow parasol opened my trunk. I was so happy I kissed her.”

  Julia was able to laugh. “Did she faint dead away?”

  “Nah, just gave me her phone number.” He continued to chat to her pleasantly, allowing her to relax, while she in turn kept him awake and alert until finally he pulled into the UCLA Medical Center’s parking structure. Near a wide pillar sat her dark blue Taurus, just as if nothing had happened.

  As he pulled up beside her Ford and she shakily departed the big car, Stan watched her with dark brown eyes before reaching into his wallet and pulling out a business card.

  She stared at the police insignia and his name in bold print. “Stanley L. Garten. You’ve been watching me for months haven’t you?”

  “I’m not sure I made much of a guardian angel, but I did the best I could. At least you’re still alive.” His words mocked himself and Julia almost wished she could tell him the truth about Seth. He continued. “I checked you out of the hotel and your bags are in the trunk of your car, compliments of LAPD. Drive home. You never met me, you never knew me. You don’t know a damn thing about what happened on that mountain road this morning, do you Julia Morris?”

  “I don’t know anything,” said Julia obediently. “Nothing at all.”

  Stan raised a hand and pulled the heavy car away while she tucked his card inside her purse and swung the plastic bag onto the passenger seat.

  Three hours later, after practicing her alibi at least twenty times, she numbly punched the numbers of her brother’s cell phone and listened to his chipper welcome.

  “Tell me all about your trip,” he said.

  “I will,” answered Julia. “Maybe I can come over to dinner tonight and tell you all about it.”

  “Did Simon come back with you?”

  “Simon,” repeated Julia. “Was he supposed to? I haven’t seen him since Saturday and that’s a tale in itself. I’ll fill you all in on the details tonight if you and Angie are game. I know it’s rude to invite myself over, but I’m tired and don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

  She listened to his response for a moment and rubbed her burning chest before agreeing on a time to arrive for dinner.

  

  Angie had made a delicious beef stew for dinner and by the time that Julia arrived at 6:30 she had recited her modified weekend story to herself another dozen times. When her brother asked once again about Simon she managed to shake her head scornfully and snort out,

  “He’s as bad as Seth said he was. Not only did he make several undignified passes at me, but as soon as this busty redhead walked into the room he was buzzing about her like a bee to honey. I was fortunate to be rid of him. Besides, I needed some time to myself and really didn’t relish his face constantly reminding me of Seth.”

  “I’m sorry,” grimaced Paul. “I was kinda hoping that maybe you and Simon would hit it off.”

  “No,” lied Julia. “We didn’t hit it off at all, but don’t fret about it Paul. This weekend has given me space to reflect on how it’s time to start moving on with my life. I understand that my beloved Seth will never be replaced and will remain one of the most important parts of my life. Yet, I’m positive he wouldn’t want me to sit here and waste away. I’m only twenty-nine years old and maybe someday…” her eyes flickered hopefully at her brother and sister-in-law, “he’ll send someone to me to take his place.”

  Angie gave her an impulsive hug. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

  “But you’ve got to promise me,” stated Julia determinedly, “that you won’t match me up with any of those young doctors at your hospital. Let me muddle through this at my own pace and in my own way. Please Angie?”

  Her dark-eyed sister-in-law grinned at her husband. “Okay, it’s a deal. Besides,” she said slyly, “you’ll have a lot of other things to think about since you are going to be an aunt.”

  “An aunt,” gasped Julia, “but you’ve only been married for two months!”

  “Shoot,” said Paul, “you ought to know by now that it only takes a minute.”

  “I going to be an aunt,” said Julia delightedly, relieved and thankful there was now something to take her mind off what had happened this past weekend. They chatted quietly and affectionately for the next hour until her brother flicked on the local news. There had been a blaze in the Los Padres Mountains above Santa Barbara that very afternoon.

  The perfectly made-up female newscaster for the local station reported from the scene.

  “The police are trying to piece together what happened in what seems to be a bizarre incident.

  All authorities can surmise is that a silver BMW and black Chrysler LeBaron were racing recklessly along this twisty dangerous road before colliding and plummeting over the cliff. The police have recovered two bodies and have identified the first as a mechanic from Stockton by the name of Adam Gable and the second as a Canadian national, Simon Hayes, who appears to have been visiting southern California as a tourist.

  “Oh my God,” shrieked Angie. Her brother tried to calm down his hysterical wife as Julia listened numbly to the newscaster’s final statement.

  “I knew he was reckless,” croaked her brother, who was beside himself in a mixture of rage, confusion, and indignation.

  As Julia watched the firefighters douse the remains of the brush fire, her heart swelled and called the newscaster an unknowledgeable liar. The glow intensified as the camera revealed a close up of the mangled remains of the blackened BMW and Chrysler LeBaron, and she turned her attention to comforting her distraught sister-in-law. By the end of the newscast, Julia Ann Morris was firmly in control of her emotions and prepared herself to wait for whatever the future chose to bring.

  Chapter 14

  It was the Tuesday after the long Labor Day weekend, a full ten months after Simon Hayes and Adam Gable had plunged their cars to their death upon that twisty mountain road, when something strange happened. The fervor regarding the accident had died down within a couple months and Julia rarely spoke of it. She’d even gone against her own better judgment and ventured out on a couple of double dates with her well-meaning brother to prove that she was healing. Her brother and parents had taken her vow to start anew way too seriously, and it was often with barely bridled impatience that she brushed off their well-meaning attempts at matchmaking.

  Now, she examined the nineteen bright new faces of her eager second grade students and grinned. They’d just placed their brand new backpacks into newly white-washed cubbies and sat down at their tables, hands folded primly in front of them.

  She’d just introduced herself, taken roll, and discovered one student was missing, when her principal, the irrepressible Connie Fernandez, knocked on the door jam and ushered in a tiny little girl with reddish-brown hair and bright hazel eyes.

  “We have a new student for you Ms. Morris. Her name is Gertrude Johnson, but she likes to go by Gertie.” The little girl smiled unreservedly up at Julia as she politely shook the hand of her new teacher.

  “This makes things just perfect,” said Julia. “Now I have an even amount of boys and girls. I was wondering when my twentieth student would show up and here you are. Why don’t you sit at that table right over there Gertie?”

  The petite girl sat down beside two other second grade girls and placed a bright red pencil case upon her desk. Gertie wore a pretty red-checked dress with matching bobby socks and black patent leather shoes and carried the fresh-scrubbed face of a first day student. Gertie listened intently to Julia’s instructions and began writing immediately about her summer, working quietly and diligently until the recess bell rang. She then traipsed up to Julia’s desk, her black shiny shoes gleaming upon the gray carpet. She hadn’t spoken since the first few m
inutes of class and now laid a white envelope on her new teacher’s desk.

  “My grandma and uncle said that I should give you this.” It was common that nervous parents gave their children letters for the teacher on the first day, and Julia smiled back.

  “Are you new in town Gertie? I don’t recall you being at this school last year.”

  “Yes I am,” she said, revealing a missing front tooth. “My grandma and mom moved down with my uncle to Santa Barbara just last week. They say this is where we are going to live for a long time.”

  “And your daddy?” asked Julia gently.

  “My mom and dad are divorced but my uncle stays with us and he’s a lot of fun. He’s an ‘ivil’ engineer.”

  Julia thought hard. “You mean a civil engineer?”

  “Yeah that’s it,” lisped the little girl, breaking into a huge smile. “Anyway, he made me promise to give you this letter. I’ll see you later Ms. Morris; Katie and Juanita are waiting for me.” And with that the little girl skipped off, her braids bouncing against the geometric pattern of her new first-day dress.

  But Julia didn’t open up the letter immediately, instead spending the short recess period reading the files regarding her new students. Within twenty minutes her sweaty class returned from their energetic recess and she walked them to their music class, spending the next fifteen minutes grading a pre-spelling test she’d given the children to determine their grade level. Finally, she remembered the bulging letter housed within the plain white envelope with her name written on it. She thought it was a bit odd that the girl’s uncle would already know her first name.

  Julia opened the envelope but no piece of paper rested inside. Instead, two delicate rosebuds tumbled onto the table, one the deepest purest red, the other, the palest pink. Their thorns had been carefully broken off, leaving the stems and petals perfectly unblemished and beautiful. Julia sat for a full three minutes staring at the two rosebuds, her heart quickening; and when she closed her eyes and reached out with her soul, an answer floated back. It started out as a slight tingling, spreading from her heart down to her fingertips until finally erupting into flame. She lifted the two rosebuds to her lips and kissed them tenderly.