by Linda Palund
“But prisoners stay on death row forever, making appeal after appeal to stave off execution!” said Seth.
“It’s too good for him,” I complained. “It’s not fair. Carmen didn’t have any chance for an appeal. Why should her vicious murderer?”
But even this grim scenario had a way of sorting itself out, for the problem ended up solving itself. It happened like this:
When the coach realized what was in store for him as soon as he recovered from his Mexican adventure to be transferred from LA County Hospital to the Parker Center Jail, he began acting sicker than he actually was. He complained to the doctors of terrible pains in his abdomen, and what with all his histrionics, they believed him.
In fact, they thought he might have suffered some intestinal rupture from his anal rape. They arranged to bring him down to X-ray for an MRI, with a police escort, naturally, but knowing how big the county hospital was and how long and busy the corridors were, crowded with patients and staff all the time, the coach evidently counted on finding an opportunity or creating an opportunity for an escape.
Wendy, James, and I were in James’s living room watching Homeland when Seth called me on my cell. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. It was too good to be true!
James and Wendy, who had only heard my side of the conversation after immediately muting the TV, anxiously awaited whatever news I had.
“Seth just told me the coach tried to escape from County Hospital!” I told them.
“Oh my God!” said Wendy. “That’s terrible!”
“No, it’s not,” I told her, and I started crying tears of relief again. “It’s wonderful.”
“What exactly happened?” asked James.
“He tried to beat up his guards on the way to the X-ray and evidently hurt one of them pretty badly and managed to get the guard’s gun. Then he threatened to shoot an X-ray technician if they didn’t let him leave the hospital.”
“Oh God, that’s incredible!”
“Yeah, it’s incredible. Because in LA County Hospital, they have a million armed cops roaming the halls, and one just walked up behind him and shot him in the back!”
“Oh no, is he dead?”
“That’s the best part!” I said, laughing now. “It was a .22 caliber pistol, and it broke his spinal cord and bounced around inside him and did more damage than the damage he was already complaining about.”
“Is he going to live?”
“Oh yes,” I told them. “The doctors are working on him now. They’re going to save his creepy life no matter what they have to do. LA County is fantastic with gunshot wounds. Captain Greenberg says the doctors say he will survive just fine with only one kidney and no spleen. They say he’ll probably be paralyzed from the waist down, but he’ll still feel pain in the rest of his body. Seth’s father says the doctors told him there will be plenty of pain after they finish operating on him!”
“That’s fantastic!” exclaimed James, hugging me.
Later that night, Seth called to tell me that the operation on the coach had been a success. “Can you believe?” Seth said. “He really is going to be paralyzed!”
“Well I hope he can still feel pain, ’cause I want him to hurt mightily!” I said.
“Oh yeah,” Seth said. “My dad says he’s in a lot of pain right now. And do you know what’s even better?”
“No, what?”
“Now the doctors think there might be too much damage inside him after all. Those little .22 caliber bullets tend to bounce around a lot, nicking organs and bones. Now they’re thinking he might not survive more than a few pain-filled weeks.”
“That means he’ll be dead long before he would have even reached death row, let alone made an appeal.”
“I thought that might make you happy,” Seth said.
“As long as he’s suffering now.”
“Good.”
“Seth?” I said before he hung up. “I’m not really happy about this, you know. I just feel, I don’t know.” I paused, because I really didn’t know what I meant myself.
“Like it’s more justice than you could have hoped for?” Seth finished my thought for me.
“Yes,” I answered, feeling so close to Seth right then. He knew me so well. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Thank you so much, Seth, and thank your dad for keeping us in the loop.”
Luke didn’t have to face a trial. He simply spent several months in a hospital for the criminally insane before it was finally determined that he didn’t really belong there, but where he had been writing long, heartfelt letters to Angela, James, and myself, telling us how sorry he was and how he was going to devote his life to making up for all the harm he had caused. Unbelievable as it might be, he actually tried to do just that.
When he was finally transferred to a regular prison, he began to study for the priesthood. He still kept writing to Angela, because she actually wrote him back, something I couldn’t bring myself to do. He told her he was planning to become a prison chaplain, that he was going to work to help other criminals deal with the deeds they had done and help them make up for their past mistakes. I could almost forgive him now.
Almost.
CHAPTER 36
INTO THE FUTURE
THE SUMMER was drawing to a close when James drove Wendy and me over to Pips in his mom’s Cadillac for a last roundup before we split for our respective colleges, or in James’s case, for his third year at the Air Force academy in Colorado.
Both Wendy and Seth had developed crushes on James over that summer, especially after seeing him decked out in his new Air Force uniform. He had lost a lot of weight during the two years since Carmen’s death, and he did look pretty striking, with his blond hair and piercing blue eyes. When you added his fabulous Southern politesse, he was pretty charismatic, especially as he was so damned intelligent and levelheaded too. If I weren’t gay, I might have fallen for him myself, but he still made a heck of a friend, military or not, and he’d always be Carmen’s beloved older brother, which is as close as anyone could truly get to my heart.
“So it’s true. You’re giving up creative writing for law enforcement?” he asked me on the drive over.
“Well, it’s not technically ‘law enforcement,’ it’s criminology,” I said. “I can get a PhD in it, just like Seth’s dad.”
“Lucy and Seth are both headed for the University of Maryland,” chimed in Wendy. “They get to go back east together!”
“It’s got the best department of criminology and criminal justice in the country, very high-minded, I can assure you,” I added. “And who says I can’t still be a writer while I’m out fighting crime?”
As soon as we entered the coffee shop, we spotted Seth sitting in our favorite booth, grinning his latest wonky grin, the one he had worn ever since his nose was broken. Poor Seth had a new nose now, not so unique and aquiline as the old one but not too ordinary either. His bruises had faded, and he looked pretty good.
We settled ourselves in the booth, James sliding in next to Seth and Wendy scrunching up against his other side, looking up at him with huge, love-filled eyes. I sat on the other side of Seth and gave him a big hug.
“Well, show everyone your prize, Seth,” I said after we’d ordered our usual coffees. “Don’t hold back.”
Seth had won a full scholarship to the University of Maryland with a major in cyber crime. It had helped that his father was the captain of Major Crimes for the LAPD, but he had also received loads of recommendations from every one of his teachers, and I had to admit, he was pretty brilliant and certainly knew his way around a computer. Plus I thought it was pretty spectacular that my very best friend would be coming to the same university as me when I was going to be so far from home for the first time.
Seth pulled out the scholarship acceptance letter he had received and passed it around so we could all take turns admiring it. In it, the university declared how delighted they were to offer such an exceptional student this scholarship, which would pay all his
fees, including his accommodations, for his first four years in their new Department of Cyber Crime.
“You two are so lucky, going to the same school. I’m going to be all alone in New York City!” complained Wendy.
“Oh really, alone in New York City. What a bummer!” I laughed.
“Don’t worry.” James smiled fondly down at Wendy, who was still making with the lost puppy eyes. “We’ll all meet back here every holiday.” All Wendy could do was bask in his smile and savor his words as if they were a promise of their future engagement.
“Anyway, you are the one who is going to be consumed by your career,” I said accusingly. “We’ll be lucky to ever see you again, once you get under the limelight,” I added.
“Don’t say that!” protested Wendy. “I’ll never be like one of those people. I’m never going to forget any of you.” She turned her puppy eyes on me, and I could see there were actually tears forming at the corners.
“I know, Wendy, I was just joking,” I assured her. “I know you’re not like one of those people.”
“Well, it’s true,” began Seth. “We’ve been through an awful lot together—”
“Some more than others!” I interjected, still reeling from seeing Seth in the hospital just a few months ago.
“Yes,” agreed James. “I think we can safely say we’ve been through the mill together.”
“And if that doesn’t bond us forever, nothing will,” added Wendy.
“So when you’re a big Broadway star, you will always remember us and put us on the guest list for all your shows, right?” said James, putting his arm around Wendy and giving her shoulders a squeeze, which gave her an excuse to wriggle even closer.
Seth looked at me with raised eyebrows and grinned that lopsided grin again. “Okay, then, I think it’s time for the blood-brother ritual,” he announced.
“Hey, there’s been enough bloodshed!” I protested.
“I didn’t mean that ritual,” he said. “I just meant that it was time for us to really promise never to forget how strong we all were together and how we should always be there for each other in the future.”
“Oh, Seth,” cried Wendy. “That’s so sweet! Absolutely! I will never forget you all. And I will never forget how tough we can be. I promise to be tough forever!”
“Boy, and you’re going to really need to be tough in the showbiz world. Just think of Madonna!” I reminded her.
“Okay, okay, we get it. So what are we supposed to do now? Clasp hands and swear to never forget?” asked James.
“Sounds good to me,” Seth said. So that was what we did. Right there in Pips, in the middle of Westwood Village, in the cold, beating heart of LA. We put our hands on the table and held on to each other for dear life.
“I’ll never forget,” we all swore.
And we never did.
CHAPTER 37
THE DREAM, PART 2
I HAD that dream one last time.
I was back at the Angelus Rosedale Cemetery. Only, this time Carmen was not only alive, but we were sitting together on a plaid tablecloth under the small grove of palm trees beside her grave, and James was with us. We were having a picnic!
Carmen and I were laughing at James because he looked so dismayed at the vegetarian fare in the picnic basket. He kept pulling things out of the basket and groaning.
“Ugh! Tofu hotdogs! Didn’t you bring anything for me?”
Carmen was leaning back against her very own gravestone. She looked gorgeous in her little black dress, her supple legs crossed in front of her. She leaned forward and reached into the picnic basket. I was dumbfounded when she pulled out a pistol. “Of course I have, James. Here, this is what you want.” She handed the pistol to James, who looked at it as if it were a poisonous snake. But he took it from her anyway, and Carmen turned to me, her dark eyes shining, and winked.
From out of nowhere, music began to play. It was a familiar tune, and I thought I recognized it. Yes, I did! It was “Tara’s Theme” from Gone with the Wind.
James was staring at Carmen now. I had never seen him look so sad. Not since the funeral at least. “Why now?” he asked her.
“It’s a present, silly,” she answered, laughing her sultry laugh. She reached over and squeezed my hand. Her touch filled me with longing and love for her.
Just then, a man stepped out from behind one of the palm trees. He was tall with dark hair, and he looked somehow vaguely familiar, but I didn’t remember ever seeing him before. He walked up behind James so James couldn’t see him, but Carmen did. A dark look of recognition swept over her beautiful face. James was watching her, and he turned around to see what she was looking at.
“Dad!” he exclaimed.
The man ignored him and walked right up to our blanket until he could reach down and take Carmen’s hand. He pulled her to her feet, although I was straining to hold her down by her other hand. She surprised me by pulling her hand free of mine. But she gazed back at me, looking strangely cheerful. Then she winked at me again as if we shared some secret.
The music began to get louder, sounding sinister among the tombstones and the palm trees. I watched as the man swept Carmen into his arms and began to dance with her. She didn’t struggle but danced with him in a strangely formal way as if she were trying to keep him at a distance, but the man whirled her around, and I knew he was trying to pull her closer.
Carmen threw her head back so her hair swirled around her lovely shoulders, and she looked directly at James. James and I struggled to our feet as we watched the strange dance. I didn’t know exactly what was expected of me. The overwhelming creepiness of the spectacle froze me to the spot. Then the man moved his face closer to Carmen’s, and I could see he meant to kiss her.
And that’s when James walked up to them and put the gun against the man’s head. The man turned slightly, and I could see a look of astonishment on his face. Then he shook his head and began to smile. His smile shocked me, because it was so reminiscent of Carmen’s smile, and that was when James pulled the trigger.
I woke up with start, sweating and terrified in my familiar bed and for the rest of the night, all I could do was wonder and wonder.
EPILOGUE
IN THE END
IN THE end, I decided to never tell James or Angela what Carmen’s autopsy report had revealed. I know they must have known what had happened to Carmen, and I didn’t want to open up old wounds. I believed they had both suffered enough.
At least Carmen’s suffering was over at last. Rumors of her ghost haunting the school gradually faded, and no one ever again reported seeing her ghost walking the corridors of University High School.
She also stopped haunting my dreams, and I was able to sleep once more without having to rely on my mother’s supply of Valium. That didn’t stop me from missing her terribly, though, or from being angry at the universe for taking her away from me. Not a day went by when I didn’t wish I could call her up so I could tell her about all the things that were happening in my life.
I wanted to tell her about Seth and about my change in career. I wanted to tell her how we helped solve her murder! Knowing I could never talk to her again still filled me with rage, but I didn’t think that would ever go away, and maybe I didn’t want it to. I never wanted to forget Carmen.
I was pretty certain James and I solved the riddle of the little black dress and that her overriding motive was to remind Angela of what she had allowed to happen to Carmen, and at the same time, to remind herself the man who had hurt her was gone forever.
I only wished her little black dress could have served as a shield to protect Carmen from further harm. There were so many things I wished for whenever I thought about Carmen. The one thing I wished, above everything else, was that I could turn back the clock to that beautiful spring day when Carmen walked down to that corner without me. If only I had been there. If only I could have saved Carmen from her fate.
I knew in my heart there was nothing I could have done to save her, but n
o matter what I told myself, it would always break my heart that her little black dress became her shroud.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LINDA PALUND grew up in a small-town library, hiding from bullies and the rest of the world. She was an ugly duckling and a misfit but always knew she would blossom someday. When that day came, she became a model, then a songwriter, then the leader of a rock-and-roll band. But through all her life’s changes, she never stopped being a bookworm and always planned to be a writer.
Today, she is taking all the threads of her life, the weird and the wondrous, the fantastic and the tragic, and weaving them into her novels.
She loves to champion the underdog and hopes her novels will give other misfits the hope that they too will prevail against the odds.
You can read her quirky flash fiction at http://fictionvictimtoo.blogspot.com
Twitter her at https://twitter.com/auralind
Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/Lindapalund
And write to her at [email protected]
