Epilogue

I told David I’d had a hard time writing up this case.  He was curious about the reason.  I said I’d been uneasy writing about Kathy.  That he’d found love was a wonderful thing, but he seemed not completely comfortable about the relationship, and that made me uncomfortable

        “Interesting, Lanning.  Well, it is something that’s taken getting used to.  I missed my wife so much, grieved for her for so long, that I never thought I’d be able to love someone again.  For a long time, I didn’t consider it possible.  And then the idea – of being in love – disappeared from my thoughts altogether.  I mean, Kathy, it took me by complete surprise.  And there’s always the image of Elaine.  I carry her with me all the time.”

        David went silent.  I didn’t know if he was going to say any more about it.  We’ve become good enough friends that the silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable.  But after some time, I picked up the conversation again.

        “Yeah, so I sort of felt all of that, David.  I wasn’t sure how much to say about it.

You know, how deep into your relationship I should try to go.”

        David smiled.  “Well, I’m slowly getting past that.  More and more, Elaine has been telling me it’s okay to move on.  She’s been kidding me recently, says she can’t believe I waited so long.”

        This gave me pause.  “She’s been telling you this?”

        With a straight face, David said to me, “Yes, Lanning.  She and I talk a lot.”

        I nodded and smiled, wanted to give him the idea that I thought this was cool.  Actually, I was very curious about what exactly he meant about these conversations having taken place.

        Always the ace detective, David read my thoughts.

“Are you wondering if I’m talking about imaginary conversations, or if I believe I’m having real conversations with her?”

        “Well . . . ”

        Laughing, he said, “Since you always have me wondering whether ghosts are a genuine phenomenon, well, go ahead and keep my character guessing about that.  I like those moments in your stories.”

        He sipped his beer.  “But back to me and Kathy.  I like the way you handled it in the story.  At the time this case was happening, well, you did capture my feelings exactly.”

* * * * *

        It must have been right about the time I’d wrapped up writing this story that the following scene was playing out.  Again, because I wasn’t there, I’m depending pretty heavily on my imagination.  I think it must have gone something like this.

        The sun beat down on the blond man tuning his car’s engine.  Mexico was always sunny, and he liked that.  It reminded him of Hawai‘i.

        Someone called his name.  Reaching for the gun he always kept close he straightened up and turned to see who it was.  His hand relaxed and he smiled.

        “Mr. Apana, welcome to Guadalajara.  I got your message.”

        Wilbur Apana took out his handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his face.  He reached out and shook Bobby Stillman’s hand.

        “So, Bobby, this is where you’re hiding out from the long arm of David Chan.”

        Stillman gave a disgusted look.  “I’m sorry to hear about your situation, Mister Apana.

Sooner or later, I’d like to pay him back.”

        “I hear you, Bobby.  Those are the words of a young man.  You’ve got a lot of fire in you.  Me, I’m in the mellow time of life.  I might just fish and enjoy my golden years.”

        “Well, you’re more than welcome to do that here.

I got plenty of room.”

        Apana thanked him.  “It’s hot like hell here.”

        “Yes, sir.  Reminds me of home.”

         “This is hotter than home, Bobby.  And this humidity.  Geez.

No trade winds either.  You know, son, one day we could both go join Kang Yu if we get tired of this weather.”

        “Nah, I wouldn’t want to live in Korea”

        “But he owes us both.”

        “Right.  We worked pretty hard for him.  But I never felt very comfortable.”

        Apana said, “But the money was good.”

        “Yes,” Stillman agreed,  “but I always had a feeling he’d of offed us at any second.”

        “Ummm, true.  It was stressful.”

        “But nowhere near as stressful,” said Stillman, “as having David Chan on my ass.  And I mean to make him pay for that.”

        Apana nodded.  “Well, as I say, that’s your youthful energy talking.  Me, the only thing I would want now is for my wife to join me.”

        “That’s rough,” said Stillman.  “I know how much she means to you.”

        “Yes . . . ” Apana looked off into the blue distance.

        “Well, maybe one day you’ll feel like paying back Chan for that.”

        Apana said nothing.  If he tried hard enough, he could see his dear Alice just over the horizon.