The Messenger

22

Of all the shocks she had received in the last twenty-four hours, Amanda found that this one hit her the hardest. “You don’t want to live?”

“No.”

“You mean all the time I was giving you CPR-no, wait-that was useless, wasn’t it? I mean, I’m not the reason you revived.”

“No, but-”

“Was that amusing to you? Or were you just disappointed?”

“Amanda, no, please don’t mistake what I’m saying.”

She looked away from him.

He moved closer to her and gently took her face in his hands. “Do you think I’m so heartless, so cold?”

Actually, she thought, when he touched her, cold was the last word she’d use. She found herself unable to resist raising her eyes.

“Amanda, out there in the desert, you forgot all your own troubles and fears and came to my aid-”

“Not really, as it turns out-”

“You didn’t know that at the time. Despite having witnessed a horrible collision and being terrified, I’m sure, by what followed, you didn’t just sit there, weeping over your own misfortune. Do you know how many people would have been paralyzed by their fears in such a situation? But not you. You came to my side-to the side of someone who had done nothing but irritate you and make you angry-”

“That’s not exactly-”

“Someone you mistrusted, who had just embarrassed you by making a scene at a party.”

“You were sticking up for me. I know that now. At the time…”

“At the time I was calling attention to something you were handling in a much quieter way, while I was failing to control my temper. I frightened you.”

“Do you have a temper? You don’t strike me as a hothead.”

“I will admit it rarely surfaces, but it’s there. I won’t lie to you-which would be pointless, given what you witnessed at the party. But I found it took everything I had in the way of self-restraint to keep myself from killing that little son of a bitch.” He paused. “I’m not proud of hitting him.”

“He did take a swing at you.”

“Oh, he had it coming, I suppose, and I did shut him up, but-it wasn’t really a fair fight. It never is with me, you see.”

“I don’t see.”

He dropped his hands from her face and stared into the fire.

“Todd still has his black eyes, I’m sure. His nose must hurt like the devil. Me, I’m fine. He didn’t know what he was up against. It’s really not right for me, invulnerable as I am, to strike blows at those who are weaker, who will suffer consequences that are never at stake for me. There’s nothing courageous in my going into a fight-I know I won’t suffer what my opponent will suffer. There’s no risk involved for me.”

He fell silent, then said, “Do you know what quality I’ve come to envy in those around me? Frailty.”

“Frailty?”

“Yes. Ask yourself-is there any courage where there is nothing to be overcome? Where there is no vulnerability? I would say I might as well be a machine or a stone, but even machines rust and stones wear down, while I go on and on, unchanged. I look at other humans and wonder if I have the right to call myself one of their number. I look at someone like Ron, who has struggled almost all his life with illness, with death hovering over his shoulder. I look at people like Larry, Benecia’s husband, who stayed at her side and saw a woman he loved, no matter what disease had done to her. They have courage.” He turned to her. “You have courage.”

“Me? Oh, no.”

“Yes, and not just because of your love for Ron-”

“Sisterly, you understand-”

He smiled. “Yes, sisterly.” He grew serious again. “You’ve known Ron a long time, and the bond you have kept you at his side. But we shared no such bond last night. I was all but a stranger. You probably didn’t even know I was the person on the motorcycle, did you?”

“Not until I got closer,” she admitted.

“You did everything you could for me, and kept at it even when it appeared there was no hope of saving me. Stayed with me, even when Shade approached-this, when he must have represented all your worst fears.”

“I had nothing to be afraid of and I was-”

“Again, you didn’t know that at the time. He frightens people who aren’t afraid of dogs. And despite that, you stayed with me. You were generous, even at risk to yourself. That means a great deal to me, even if you don’t see the value of it. You thought I was amused by your kindness? You can’t imagine how very far I am from feeling anything like amusement over what you did for me. Please don’t think for a moment that I would ever ridicule you for helping me. And if I’ve failed to say it before, thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” she said, feeling embarrassed. Then she remembered what he had said just a few moments ago. “Tyler, when you say you want to die-”

“Don’t worry. I’m not suicidal-”

“That’s not what I meant.” Her eyes widened. “Could you commit suicide? I mean, is it possible?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think-so you haven’t tried it?”

“Are you making a request?”

“Of course not! Of all the dumb things to ask me! And you didn’t answer my question.”

He shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze. “You’ll have to forgive me if I-say dumb things. If I don’t explain this well. I’ve never talked about this directly with anyone who wasn’t on his or her own deathbed.” He paused. “I’ve never tried to kill myself outright, but I’ll confess that there were years, early on, when I did live recklessly. I suppose I was testing my limits. Or rebelling after I realized what a bad bargain I’d made…”

“Bargain?”

“It’s a long story, and I will tell it to you if you care to hear it, but for now, I’ll put it in the simplest terms I can. I was dying, and in exchange for my life, I agreed to become-oh, the messenger boy of the nearly dead, let’s say. I wasn’t merely spared from death, however. I gained Shade as a companion and protector. I gained the ability to survive any illness or injury. Beyond that, I remain in the prime of my life, in prime condition.”

“You don’t age?”

He hesitated. “An interesting question. Physically, no.”

She could hear the shakiness in her voice as she said, “I’ve thought you were about my age, twenty-four. In your early twenties anyway. Although-most of the time, you don’t act much like you are my age. You act older.”

“I am older. Much older. But physically, yes, I’m twenty-four.”

She stared at him, not saying anything. She couldn’t resist studying him, looking for lines, or gray hairs, or weathered skin.

“I know I look as if I’m your age,” he said. “In fact, with the exception of changes in hairstyle and clothing, I look exactly as I did when I was twenty-four. The only scars I bear are ones I acquired before then. I’m extremely fond of those scars now.”

It was a lot to take in. Some part of her brain kept saying, “This is impossible.” But it fit with what she had already seen, what she already knew to be true on some deeper level. If he had said, “You imagined everything, nothing that happened out in the desert was real,” she would have known he was lying. Still, the truth was not so easy to take in either.

He was regarding her steadily and, she realized, a little nervously. The man who had nothing to fear was afraid. Afraid of her?

No. It suddenly became clear to her that he needed her to believe him. He had carried this secret for God knew how long and now-

Shade suddenly came to his feet, just as the ghosts appeared, at the far end of the room. It made her jump, and Tyler asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Long story of my own,” she said, forcing her gaze back to him, ignoring the dog and the crowd at the other end of the room.

“Shade startled you, didn’t he?” he said. “Shade, where are your manners?”

Shade lay down, but he kept looking toward the ghosts. Could he see them? She remembered reading once, long ago, that if you thought there was a ghost in the room and looked between a dog’s ears, you’d be able to see it. She had always wondered who would want to do either.

So here she was, watched by ghosts, ghosts who were seen by a dog that seemed to understand every word spoken to him. She didn’t understand how Tyler’s “bargain” worked, but she knew-deep down knew-he was telling her the truth. She took a resolute breath and said, “I’m sure it was really hard to tell me your secrets.”

“I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. I really don’t. All I ask is that you not repeat what I’ve told you to anyone else.”

“And if I do believe you?”

He looked at her in surprise. “You believe me?” he said, and seemed unable to say more.

“Yes, I believe you, Tyler Hawthorne.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand, and said, barely above a whisper, “Thank you.”

The ghosts started to move closer, and Shade growled.

“Shade!” Tyler said, letting go of her hand. “What’s gotten into you?”

The ghosts retreated. She found herself feeling angry with them-not for the first time. She was determined not to let them interfere in what was happening here, whatever it was, between her and Tyler.

“How long have you been alone?” she asked.

He smiled. “As for being alone, I’m not, really. Shade has been with me from the start, and he’s an excellent companion. And the dying are invariably willing to befriend me.”

“I can understand why. Let me make sure I understand. For a short time, a few minutes, really, the dying are completely open to you, and tell you their secrets.”

“Yes.”

“And then you have to say good-bye to them.”

“They are always happiest right at that moment. It’s as if they gladly surrender to whatever draws them away. At that point, I don’t think they really notice my being there-or anyone else’s presence-as they leave.”

“But you don’t ever get to leave.”

“No.”

“Hmm. And while I am sure Shade is a great comfort to you-”

“More than you can imagine.”

“I’m sure that’s true. But-does he talk to you?”

“Not in words, no. But he’s excellent at conveying meaning.”

Shade wagged his tail, but he kept his eyes on the ghosts.

“And you befriend a few people, like Ron. Like me.”

“That doesn’t happen very often,” he said.

“I can understand why. You’ve got all these secrets, both your own and those of the dying, and you can’t afford to have someone discover what I learned out in the desert.”

“That’s part of it.”

“So if you befriend someone who isn’t dying, you have someone to talk to for a period of time-without really being able to tell them your own story, of course. And then what?”

“After a few years, I move.”

“Because otherwise people start to wonder why you aren’t aging the way they are.”

“You begin to understand why Los Angeles appeals to me.”

“I’m sure it won’t take long for people to be begging you for the number of your plastic surgeon.”

He smiled.

“So, when were you born?”

“In 1791.”

“Seventeen ninety-one!”

He shrugged.

“Oh. Really?”

“Really.”

“Seventeen ninety-one-A.D.?”

That surprised laughter from him. “Not, I will admit, the question I expected at this point. Yes, 1791 A.D.”

She waved this off. “I can’t help how my mind works. So what happened to you? When you were twenty-four, I mean. That would have been-1815?”

“Yes.”

“Were you here then, in Los Angeles?”

“No, I was in Europe. I was born in England, but at seventeen I joined the army and spent several years fighting on the Continent. I made a brief trip home, but in 1815 I was back and fighting in Belgium.”

“With the British army?”

“Yes.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “What can I say? Having spent roughly two centuries in the U.S., I’ve lost my accent.”

She didn’t let that sidetrack her. “The British army in 1815-you were fighting Napoleon?”

“Yes. Boney, we called him. Have you studied history?”

“I like it, but I haven’t taken more than basic classes,” she admitted. “Sorry. Does that bother you?”

“No, not really.”

There was a soft knocking at one of the doors leading from the hallway. Amanda saw the ghosts vanish as he called, “Yes?”

Ron came in. “Hi! Alex told me you were in here. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Tyler said. “How are you this evening?”

“Better, although I wish I had more energy. My sleeping schedule is so crazy. I haven’t been awake much today, and now I’ll probably be up all night. What time is it? Almost eleven-thirty? What did you two do today?”

“We went to the hospice,” Amanda said, then looked to Tyler.

“I’ll let you tell Ron whatever you want to about today. As for me, I need to take Shade out for a bit.”

“Whatever I-”

“Yes, anything,” Tyler said, standing. He turned to Ron and added, “We have another houseguest-Amanda’s cousin Brad.”

“Brad! No wonder you looked so shaken up when I came in here, Amanda. Brad! Of all the-”

“He’s been badly injured,” Tyler said quickly.

“Oh! Oh…I’m sorry.” Ron looked at Amanda in confusion. “I thought he was with Rudebecca.”

“One of these days,” Amanda said, “you are going to call one of the other Rebeccas we know by that name.”

“Not a chance. I like Rebecca Davis,” he said, naming a friend who now lived on the East Coast. “I like Rebecca Johnson. Those are wonderful Rebeccas. Nice people. The Trainwrecka, though-”

“I hate to interrupt this fascinating recital,” Tyler said, “but I need to get going.”

“Maybe we could talk more, when you get back?” she said. “If you aren’t too tired.”

“Of course. And don’t hesitate to call if you need me. You still have the cell phone number?”

“Yes-but-you aren’t just walking him here, around the grounds?”

“Sorry, no. He has a few favorite places to roam, so I’ll be taking the car. But I’ll be only a few minutes away. And Alex and her crew will be here to protect you while I’m gone.”