THE LADY KILLER: intense, suspenseful, gripping literary fiction (23 page)
Summer had very nearly come to its end. Hartwig and Sandy, who was in an ecstatic mood that had her running about the beach community saying ‘good bye’ to everyone, were making last minute preparations for their departure, which was to be on a Wednesday. Hartwig had locked up his houseboat but entrusted the key to a neighbor in case his bilge pumps failed and undue leakage might cause it to sink. That’d certainly be a catastrophic event to return from Europe to. Or would if it he had her in tow by that time. An excuse to move into the beach house permanently. Nevertheless those things (houseboats) aren’t like your house or mine, which are on land. Like boats docked at our piers such as those around us they need constant surveillance just to prevent an untoward occurrence like that. Like yours for instance, the
Family Happiness
, how’d you like it to sink when you were home or at work? Of course, you have insurance but… That’s one of the hazards of living on the water and I suppose one might say one of its charms for it’s like life personified, a constant risk.
Hartwig’d driven his clunker full of things he would need – guitar, books, clothes, sundries, notebook, etc. – along with his dog over to the beach. Benji was to take care of the three dogs in their absence.
“Just … just make sure you feed them this time,” his mother apprised her tall offspring who was rapidly becoming a man. Then she went up to him and hugged him a thing she’d seldom done since he was older and crinkling the corners of her eyes with a gush of tears she added, “Oh, I’m so happy. He’s such a fine man. And remember no wild parties this time.” She appeared pathetic though it’s certainly easier to show affection towards a loved one when you’re in love.
The boy knew, of course, she meant Hartwig but could hardly believe his ears. And though he liked Hartwig he really didn’t care one way or the other since he’d been exposed to her boyfriends before, who she’d taken abroad and where were they now? Contacting her for money most likely. Nonetheless he maintained. He and Marcus, who’d spent the night there, were driving the couple to the airport early in the morning.
“Just make sure I drive,” Benji informed his mother for he was emphatic about that role in his life now and leaning more and more towards the sport itself, race car driving. He had a few plans about that he hadn’t yet revealed to his mother, so he had to be nice to her.
After hosting a barbecue for their friends several nights before they were to leave the two were to spend the last night alone, packing loose ends, making last minute calls before dining at the Sand Piper and turning in for a good night’s sleep. Sandy’d booked a flight on one of those mammoth jets, which stand as tall as a five-story building and come equipped with small state rooms like a first class hotel.
“You’re kidding, said Hammond. “Why I’ve never even been on one of those. Like so many of our new perks I’ve only heard of them. That’s all.”
“No, it’s true,” I said. They have showers kitchens, large screen TVs, everything. Home gratification for every second of your life. Sandy really did have money, wasn’t afraid to spend it and that’s when you see it come out when you’re traveling.”
The barbecue went well. Everyone got drunk. The dogs behaved themselves this time and coupled with the loud music, classical, of course, the peals of laughter and gaiety flowed off the deck to intermingle with the soughing of the ocean fifty yards across the beach. We, of course, were over in Sausalito when all this was going on. We hadn’t been invited, which in fact fit the socialite’s role for us in her life. Hers and Hartwig’s now. We didn’t expect to be seeing much of him either if he was up to what we thought he was.
We still saw Gloria around for several nights for even though she’d moved to the city, she claimed she missed Sausalito. We thought nothing of it for as you know our little town can have a nostalgic effect on you. I’m sure she expected to see Hartwig though she wasn’t going to make a point of it for as far as she knew, though he’d sold it, he was still living on his boat and eventually he’d have to return home to his mother (and her) in the city. And if the boat was locked up he’d be at the beach. So what? She no more feared the rich simpleton than the man in the moon. Especially from what Sylvia’d told her of the woman. When you do have acute intelligence you tend to laud it over people in a competitive situation. At least some persons do. None of us was about to tell her the real truth. That’d be sacrilege worse than Salman Rushdie’s. All I can say is Gloria looked quite angry but not unduly unhappy and we assumed she had a right to be after what Hartwig’d said to her.
“Yes indeed,” said Hammond. “That wasn’t too nice.”
The day before their departure, Sandy claimed she wanted time to herself. She visited her closest neighbors, walked down the beach with the dogs and sat with them for several hours on the spit that abutted the lagoon just out of beach house range. Was she thinking of the
christening
perhaps that had culminated on the bank directly opposite her in the other little town over there, Salinas. I imagine she was for she remembered virtually everything like an idiot savant though she had a difficult time expressing herself. Then like they say for those, who just before they die see their entire lives flash before them in full detail, her past must’ve overwhelmed her for one reason.
“Yes,” said Hammond like an overweening parent to a child.”
“What else other than all that she felt was about to drastically change because of the new romantic interest in her life which was obviously Hartwig. When you do enter the
new
you’re bound to reject a good part of your past and you have to be able to see it to do that.”
Around two in the afternoon she meandered back along the beach with the dogs, stooping now and then to pick up shells but only the perfect ones.
“Perfect ones?” Said Hammond.
“Yes,” I added, “whoever’s heard of saving a sand dollar with a piece out of it? That’d be like saving a cracked plate.”
She evidently had been ready to impress Hartwig with her collection but seeing him out on the deck drinking beer with some of his volleyball cronies, instead she went in the front door to avoid them, washed the sand dollars off in the sink, took a long bath and hopped into bed for a nap. As a consequence of this she awakened and appeared fully ready to go out as Hartwig was just bidding his friends farewell. What else should you be doing in a case like that when you’re to be gone two or three weeks, perhaps a month?
“You guys,” she addressed these rowdies, “take care of yourselves. And watch my son. We won’t be gone that long.” She seemed unsure of herself as she stood there in her yellow gingham dress with embroidered neck and sleeves. And as they exited the deck like so many cattle going through a chute she turned to Hartwig who stood very tanned in his blue boxer shorts and said,
“I’m ready,” with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Obviously you’re not. I’ll go on up to the Sand Piper and meet you there.”
“Why not?” Said a confident Hartwig as he pulled her to him squishing her dress. “I only have to shower and put something on.”
He watched her walk across the deck and on up the road. I imagine he was thinking he’d come into a very pretty package and the quarry was in the bag so to speak. And you know it would’ve been. It absolutely would’ve been if it weren’t for other people with their desires and emotions that don’t correspond with your own. But there always seem to be others for that’s what we call population and the reason we’re filling the earth. We cope with our conflicts and that’s what makes us human. Or so the great myth prevails.
After she left the beach house, Sandy walked along the creek trail, gathered a bunch of poppies, found no one on the bench in the cottonwood grove so she sat there like Heidi anticipating Hartwig’d come along, fetch her and they’d appear at the restaurant together. She, she claimed, knew his habits down to the split second and they’d only been together four months or so. To some couples, however, a lifetime.
Changing her mind, just before she was certain Hartwig’d pass through the grove she went on ahead anyhow. There were some friends she wanted to say goodbye to without him hanging over her shoulder and once he got there she knew that’d be impossible. Then she wanted to give Sammy the bartender the three perfect shells she’d found that afternoon on the beach as a going away present.
Matter of fact, the timing’d been so accurate Hartwig claimed he caught a whiff of her scent in the grove and it was with a devilish mood of his own he parted the willows and stepped onto the highway just down from the restaurant. What he saw, of course, he knew wasn’t quite right but not just how. Then in another instant it made sense. Someone else’d driven all the way out there from Sausalito to bade him farewell and he was ready to shake the man’s hand and buy him a drink. Matter of fact Sandy was leaning on the car window of the old Mercedes and talking to the driver.
The car, which was parked in front of the Sand Piper with its motor running, spewing its foul exhaust he instantly recognized as Harper’s, the one I told you we called Dracula after his pageboy haircut, prominent teeth and the black suits he always seemed to prefer. Harper was one of the four that put up the money I was holding for the wager that’d all but been forgotten.
“Oh, oh,” Hammond exclaimed. “What’s he doing out there just now?”
“Nothing initially,” I said.
As far as Hartwig was concerned he’d probably come to the beach for a drink. Hartwig then was ready to go up to the car, shake the driver’s hand and invite him in for another though he must’ve somehow felt it odd Sandy’d stopped and was talking to him. They’d known each other from Sausalito so it wasn’t out of the question and to tell the truth he felt good about it. Good that Sandy’d get to know his friends a little better now that…
The three dogs, who’d followed Sandy, were sitting on the ground just outside the porch of the small bar upon the deck of which a group had gathered to watch the sunset. The days were rapidly becoming shorter. Sometimes the crowd, locals as they were called, might wait drinking and chatting for several hours for the golden orb to sink beneath the horizon. The wooded hills or sloping mountain behind them made the perfect backdrop for one of man’s most scenic spectacles.
Almost simultaneously Hartwig’s dog recognized and started towards him at almost the same time he got close enough to the car to ascertain it held another passenger. It was a woman obviously. Golden red hair like that belonged to only one person that he knew and this, of course, was Gloria. Harper’d obviously brought her out there at her request, for as long as he’d known both, Gloria’d never shown any interest in Harper. Matter of fact she’d gotten in on
our
joke and felt he fit the role of Dracula perfectly.
“I… You see how I’m careful to cover my neck when I’m around him don’t you?” She’d seriously look us over until we burst out laughing.
Then, of course, it was like the side of the mountain’d exploded and out flowed lava. As he approached, Sandy backed away from the car which spun rubber and quickly peeled off up the highway. And like one stunned by the explosion Sandy backed up against the porch fence and stood transfixed as though glued to it. Hartwig said she looked like a mother who’d just lost her child. The one in the painting by Raphael. Her expression on the other hand was surreal, moreover she was burbling nonsense more like a madwoman than the scatterbrain she actually was.
As Hartwig approached her he must’ve known it was all over though not exactly why until she, of course, at the proximity of his approach suddenly snapped out of her delirium and said ostentatiously before all the regulars on the porch,
“You fucker. You sold me out.” Her grey eyes riveted Hartwig like two lasers that would’ve vaporized him at that moment if she’d had those powers. The sort of thing that actually happens in the movies. At that pronouncement, naturally, Hartwig knew the score though it’d be some minutes (very embarrassing ones too) before he could admit it to himself.
“What’re you talking about?” He said. “What happened?”
“You know exactly what happened. It was merely a game you were playing with me and believe me I’m no plaything. You’re just something else I won’t even say it.” She turned to her friends among whom was Mort the scriptwriter who was actually hugging her in sympathy before she broke down again. This time she lurched against several tables and entered the quaint well-lighted bar with burgundy carpets. It was virtually empty. Hartwig naturally followed her glad now to avoid the watchful eyes of her friends (and his).
“Look!” He said. “I don’t know what they told you but it’s not true. Gloria’s just jealous. She’d say anything. There was a little game, of course, but that was a long time ago before I knew you. That didn’t mean anything. It certainly doesn’t now.”
He appeared level headed and unafraid of any
secrets
he might’ve been withholding from her but the timing and the absurdity of the entire situation also overwhelmed him. Enough so that he was ready to give it all up and call it a day if he had to. Those two just couldn’t’ve driven all the way over the mountain then to… Any more than he could’ve set her up to have her take him abroad. It was incredible. The sheer awe of the timing itself and its air of comicality suddenly made everything bearable. He broke out laughing just as several of the regulars had begun to enter the bar. They would obviously think the affair a joke.
“Come on,” said Hartwig. “Let me buy you a drink. We can work this out.”