Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind?
By: Michelle Sinclair.
Rated R (m/m premise). Drama
(**Note: Just a quick warning. There is a m/m premise here but nothing
graphic.)
Prologue: The End of Everything
This is the end of everything
This is the end I know
This is the end of everything
Take your love with you when you go
This is the end of happiness
This is the end of dreams
This is the end of everything
It's the end for you and me
I don't know what to do
In my heart I still love you
I don't know what to say
I will always feel this way
This is the end of everything
This is the end I know
This is the end of everything
Take your love with you when you go
Chris Isaak
'End Of Everything'--Forever Blue
When the plane touched down at LaGuardia Airport in the
borough of Queens in New York City, the Mountie felt something
like a feeling stir within. It probably was indigestion, the Mountie
mused. The Mountie's stomach twisted and turned, leaving him
with a feeling of nausea. If he wasn't sure it was indigestion, he might
have to conclude it was fear. But it was indigestion, of that he was
now completely certain. The Mountie (dressed in civilian clothes because
he was sure that his uniform would not go over
well in NYC) exited the plane and headed outside. The air was
heavy on this late April day in Queens. It was misty and dank,
reflecting the rain that was yet to come or already had come or
may yet come again. The Mountie surveyed his new surroundings. He concluded
that the snow and wilderness of the Yukon were
more welcoming than the unwavering callousness that was this
city. The Mountie (having left his hat behind) headed toward one of
the several taxis that had converged around the airport. He
half expected a "rude New Yorker" to push him out of the way
and jump into the cab he had selected. It didn't happen. He got in
the car and told the driver to take him to the Plaza. The Mountie knew,
as surely as he knew that the sun would rise tomorrow that someone was
going to die in New York City today. Of course, he
didn't know who would die. It might be he. He also knew, that if *he*
didn't die, he might as well. It was more than probable that he would
never see Chicago or the person he loved that was in Chicago, ever again.
The Cop felt pain. The pain of rejection. It had happened before,
but it never cut so deep. Why? He asked himself. Why was he so
naive? Did he actually truly believe that the Mountie loved him? The
Cop had to laugh at that. Obviously it was an absurd notion. Of course
the Mountie was just playing with him, toying with his emotions. The
Mountie had everyone fooled, didn't he? Playing all self righteous and
holier-than-thou. The Cop closed his eyes as a way of damming up the
flood of tears that threatened to come.
The Cop had thought it odd when the Mountie had asked him to
leave his apartment in the middle of the night. The Cop had asked why,
but the Mountie had said only "Please go, I'll explain in the morning."
While this worried the Cop, he had complied. The Cop got his explanation
all right. The Mountie had left a note on his desk for the Cop to find
this morning. The actual words of the note didn't matter. It had boiled
down to the Mountie realizing what a mistake their relationship was and
saying goodbye, you'll never
see me again. There was a wound now, in the Cop's soul. He
could feel the wound throb and burn. It would never go away.
The Cop had no one to blame for this but himself.
*****
Part I: Sex, Lies and Videotape
I know somebody and they cry for you
they lie awake at night and dream of you
I bet you never even know they do
But somebody's crying
I know somebody and they call your name
a million times and still you never came
They go on loving you just the same
I know that somebody's trying
Chris Isaak
'Somebody's Crying'--Forever Blue
In his hotel room finally (not *his* actually, the one *she* had paid
for). He sat on the king sized bed. Much too opulent for his tastes,
but it suited her. He held in his hands the package he
had sent himself from Chicago yesterday. He had sent it as soon as he
had received her note. He had returned home from the
consulate and had been ready to prepare a dinner for himself and his
lover. Ray. He felt a dull ache in the depths of his being. He suspected
the site where the suffering resided was the void where his soul used
to be. Returning his attention to the package in his hands, he began
to open it. It was his RCMP issue hand gun. He took in a sharp breath.
He couldn't take it on the plane so he had sent it express mail yesterday
to the hotel so he would have it when he arrived today. Her note had
been explicit enough: Be at the
Plaza in Manhattan by 3:00 P.M. tomorrow. I need you. Ray will suffer
if you don't come. With Love, Victoria.' He tucked the gun between
the waist of his jeans and his skin. It was reassuring to feel the cold
metal there at his side. His watch said 3:02 P.M., she was late. Where
could she be? He tried not to think about Ray. He didn't want to recognize
the amount of hurt he had caused Ray. He had left him an unfeeling little
note at the station. It had said, in effect: "It was wrong, we
were wrong. I'm sorry. I'm leaving Chicago. Goodbye." He had
left Dief with Willie and told Willie that if he didn't hear from Fraser
in a week to assume he could keep Diefenbaker. Despite Willie's protests
and inquiries he had accepted Fraser's entreaty.
It was better like this, Fraser concluded, better for everyone. He
had to take care of Victoria on his own. He heard the door lock turn
and soon beheld that curly haired cockatrice (what made him liken her
to a mythological creature that could kill with a mere glance? A creature
so dreadful if it saw its own reflection in a mirror it supposedly died
of fright? Just coincidence, he imagined).
"Ben. I knew you'd come." She was smiling. She was still
absolutely beautiful to him.
"Why Victoria? Why now?"
"What? No 'hello'? No 'I missed you so'? Come on, Ben. I missed
you terribly, didn't you miss me?"
"In a way."
"In what way?" She was close to him now, running her hands
over his face, through his short hair.
"Like you miss a dead relative," was his answer.
"Is that what I am to you Ben? Dead? Is that why you forgot all
about me and fell into Ray's arms? Hmmm? Did I drive you to
that?" He was startled by this comment. How in God's name could
she know about him and Ray? Unless she was watching
them, unless she had seen them . . . "Oh Ben. I feel so guilty.
To think, I'm responsible for the waste of a perfectly good man. Tell
me though Ben, he can't make you *feel* what I make you
feel, can he Ben?" She was condescending. Her words dripped with
acid. She had her hand on his chest, undoing the buttons
one by one.
"How . . . how do you . . . "
"Know? Simple really. I've been watching you for some time now."
"Watching us?"
"Oh yes. I wanted to keep an eye on you, my sweet Ben. I
needed to see that you were okay. After that bastard shot you
and I had fled . . . well, I was worried you might get so depressed that
you might actually do something rash--well, you did do
*something* rash, just not the something I had imagined. Really Ben,
it is shameless the way you and he romp around in that bed. To think
*we* did *that* in that bed . . . "
"How, Victoria? How did you *watch* us? Have you been in Chicago
the whole time?"
"Of course not. You would've seen me. Or worse, Ray would have.
He wants to shoot me, Ben."
"How then?!" She was trying his patience. But he had a sick
sensation of just *how* she was watching him.
"Video, my love. The miracle of modern technology. A teeny, tiny
camera placed at a *very* advantageous angle in your apartment. No
sound, but it did its job. I must admit I think the sound of your voice
screaming out 'Oh Ray' might have sent me off the depths." She
smiled now at him. "I, of course, have a tape of you and him. Admittedly
I wanted to burn it countless times. It cuts so deep Ben."
"What are you going to do with this tape?"
"Oh, I don't know . . . send it to all the *right* people in Chicago,
I suppose. Imagine the destruction this tape could cause to your
precious Ray. His career, his very life would be in ruins."
"Why Victoria?! He never hurt you. I was the one who hurt you."
"Oh, he hurt me, Ben!" Her voice was loud now and biting.
"You don't know. You have no idea how painful it was to watch him
with his hands all over you . . . touching you. You belong to *me* Ben,
not him! I cried over you Ben! I wept for you! And then I have to
sit and watch him *fuck* you?!"
"What is it you want from me then? Why ask me to come here?"
She seemed to calm a little. Just a little. He suddenly remembered
the gun at his side. But he couldn't kill her. Not yet. He needed
to know where this tape was. "You Ben. It's always been you."
She said this with intense feeling. She kneeled down on the bed in front
of him. "I do love you Ben. You know that."
"You love me? Yet you seek to hurt me."
"No! Never."
"Never? You threaten to release this tape? To ruin Ray's life,
his career? That hurts me, Victoria."
"Ben you just . . . you're confused . . . you'll see. Once we're
away from this damnable country, you'll see." She sounded almost
desperate. The anger in her eyes was clear though.
"How do I know that you won't release the tape anyway? How do I
know you haven't done it already?"
"Trust me, Ben."
"Trust you? What have you ever done causing me to have faith in
you?"
"I could ask the same question." That comment pierced into
him like a poisonous dart. She was right, after all. What had he ever
done to deserve her trust?
"Victoria . . . where is the tape?"
"Safe. So Ben, what will it be? You coming with me this time like
you were going to do last time before *Ray* got in our way? Or are you
going to be responsible for the end of everything for him?"
"I need to see this tape. How do I know if you even have a tape?"
"Fair enough, Ben." She walked away from him now. She removed
a video cassette from her purse, slid it out of its jacket, and popped
it into the VCR. "I knew you'd want proof." She pressed play.
Sure enough there they were, he and Ray. It was a particularly graphic
tape. There was no doubt who the people on the tape were. He
watched in agony as Ray lay in his arms on the TV screen, the tape was
authentic, there was no doubt. He saw Victoria wince at this scene.
She looked at him now. "Getting turned on, Ben?"
"Victoria, I don't understand why you'd want me to come away with
you. Obviously it disturbs you to see me with Ray. Why would you still
want me?"
"Everyone's allowed to make a mistake, Ben. Even you. Well, you've
made several concerning me, haven't you? Besides, I must have
caused you so much pain that you were seduced by that lecherous
man." Her anger was reaching a crescendo again.
"You're wrong, Victoria. I wasn't coerced. I went willingly.
I wanted Ray. It took all the suffering and fury that you caused in
me to get me to finally see clearly. Ray's love is the best thing that
ever happened to me. I don't love you anymore Victoria. I don't know
that I ever did. Not the way I love Ray." She just shook her head.
She had removed a revolver from her purse now and had it pointed at his
head. "Oh Ben. I'm afraid that *wasn't* the right answer!"
*****
Part II: How do you numb your skin?
How do you cool your lips
After a summer's kiss?
How do you rid the sweat
After the body bliss?
How do you turn your eyes
From the romantic glare?
How do you block the sound of a voice
You'd know anywhere?
Oh I really should have known by the time
You drove me home
By the vagueness in your eyes
Your casual goodbyes
By the chill in your embrace
The expression on your face
Told me
Maybe you might have
Some advice to give
On how to be
Insensitive
Insensitive
Insensitive
How do you numb your skin
After the warmest touch?
How do you slow your blood
After the body rush?
How do you free your soul
After you've found a friend?
How do you teach your heart
It's a crime to fall in love again?
Oh you probably won't remember me
It's probably ancient history
I'm one of the chosen few
Who went ahead and fell for you
I'm out of bold I'm out of touch
I fell too fast I feel too much
I thought that you might have
Some advice to give
On how to be
Insensitive
Jann Arden
Insensitive'
Ray was still at the station . He had to get his mind off that
Mountie. He was at his desk. Detective Huey had asked when
he arrived "Where's Big Red?" Ray had shot him such a withering
glance that Huey had immediately clammed up. Ray was looking
at a file. Looking, not reading. The words didn't make sense to him.
He had lost his ability to read unexpectedly. Damn Fraser! Damn him
to high hell! Ray had been trying to submerge his feelings
some place where they couldn't hurt him. He was failing miserably.
Benny hurt and angered him. Even though it had been less than 24 hours
since he'd seen "Big Red" it didn't matter. Ray realized that
it didn't make a difference if it was a minute, an hour, a day, or a
year. The anguish wasn't going to subside. Quite abruptly Ray
found himself filled with a rage that he knew no equal to. He couldn't
let Benny get away with just walking out like this. He demanded an explanation
better than "it just was wrong." It wasn't so wrong when he
made Benny beg for more was it? He was sure that was ecstasy, not regret
on the Mountie's face. Ray got up from his desk and
decided to go to Ben's apartment and get to the bottom of this.
He almost made it out the door when he found him self toe-to-toe with
Inspector Meg Thatcher. The Dragon Lady had come for
answers.
"Detective Vecchio, a *word*?" He felt the temperature in
the room fall at least 20 degrees.
"I'd love to chat, Inspector, but I really have an important case
to attend to . . . "
"D.t. Vecchio. Do not, if you value your life, walk past *that*
spot." Ray let out a sigh of defeat.
"What can I do for you ma'am?"
"Have you seen Constable Fraser?"
"No ma'am. I haven't seen him. Can I go?"
"Any idea where he is, Vecchio?"
"Not the slightest."
"He didn't come to the consulate this morning, didn't call. I thought
you might know something."
"How would *I* know anything?"
"I know you're *close* to Constable Fraser." Now what in hell
did she mean by that?
"Yeah well, you know, Que sera."
"Detective. If you *see* the constable would you tell him, he had
better report to work and better have a *good* explanation for his disappearance."
"I'll tell him if I see him, ma'am." This time Ray got past
Meg and was out the front door, in the Riv. and on his way to Ben's apartment.
He truly hated this neighborhood. He had begged Ben countless
times to move. But the Mountie was safe here. He was a sort of guardian
angel for the neighborhood. He heard a small, familiar whine as he bounded
up the stairs. He looked down.
"Hey big guy, didn't Benny take you with him . . . wherever he went?"
The wolf just stared at him pitifully. Ray couldn't believe Benny would
just abandon the wolf.
"Hey! Diefenbaker! Wait up would ya--" Willie Lambert came
in after Dief and then saw the cop. "Oh. You," he said this
with a small measure of displeasure.
"Yeah me. You know where Fraser is, kid?"
"Nope."
"What are you doing with Diefenbaker?"
"Fraser came over this morning before school and asked me to look
out for him for a few days."
"Yeah? What else did Fraser say?"
"Is he in some kind of trouble?"
"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out, kid. So what
else did he say?"
"Nothing. He was in a hurry. He asked me to take care of Dief
and said if he didn't call within a week that I could just keep him."
"Keep Dief?"
"Yep. So what's going on?" Ray frowned. He was confused.
There was no way Ben would just leave Dief behind unless there was
something *really* wrong. Ray pulled out his gun and opened the door
to Ben's place saying "Police!" The place was empty though.
Dief hopped merrily inside. Ray went in, followed by Willie. The place
was neat as usual. No sign of any foul play. Actually it was impeccably
clean, not a thing out of place except a small slip of paper that lay
on the Mountie's bed. Ray picked the paper up. His mind swam at the
words on the paper. There was only one he could make out: "Victoria."
Ray felt himself ready to vomit. That bitch. Of course she was involved
in this. He reread the note. Plaza, NYC, 3:00 P.M..
"Willie. You watch Diefenbaker. If you don't hear from me in
a week--"
"I can keep the Riv.?"
"No, you can call D.t. Huey at the station and give him this note.
He'll understand." Ray left the wolf and the boy and headed to
his car. Damn that woman and curse Benny for running to her like a
little trained puppy. But then there was a mention of his name in the
note, maybe Benny was trying to protect him. But it didn't
matter to Ray what Ben's motives were. He still should have come to
Ray. Ray wasn't sure why he was running off to NYC after Benny but he
gave himself a reason that seemed satisfactory. No matter how Benny
may feel about him, and whether or not he chose Victoria over him didn't
matter. Ray knew, knew deep down in his gut that this woman was dangerous
to Benny. Ray wasn't going to let that serpent hurt Benny again. For
that reason alone he would have
followed them to NY. There was another reason. A jealous wrath
that Ray could sense pulsating beneath the surface of his desire to protect
Benny was another driving force. Ray pushed that
feeling down another layer and kept his eyes on the road.
*****
Part III: I Believe
I believe the stars keep shining all through the night
I believe if we just keep trying it'll be all right
I believe that someday I'm gonna find my way
And I believe in a beautiful day
I believe in lovers walking side by side
I believe that someday you'll be satisfied
I believe the angels listen God hears us pray
And I believe in a beautiful day
Yeah I believe its gonna work out okay
But not for me
And not for you
I believe there's an answer waiting when the day is done
I believe if you just keep searching you'll find someone
I believe that you and I just lost our way
And I believe in a beautiful day
I still believe in a beautiful day
But not for me
And not for you
I know you tried I tried too
Sometimes all our dreams just don't come true
Chris Isaak
"I Believe"--Forever Blue
Victoria had waved the gun in Ben's face for a few minutes. But they
both knew she had no intention of firing it at him. She had it in her
hand still but she wasn't brandishing it. He had been trying to get
out of her the information on where the original copy of the tape was.
"Victoria?"
"Come to your senses, Ben?"
"How many copies are there?"
"Oh, you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I would. Victoria, I can't come with you if I know that you
could still ruin Ray's life. How many copies Victoria?"
"Three. This one," she said, holding up the copy she had played
for him, "one in a safety deposit box in a bank in New Mexico and
one in an airport locker at Kennedy."
Ben thought for a moment. She could be lying to him now. He
had no way of knowing if there were tapes in those places. He
had no way of knowing if there were only three tapes or if there
were 30. "Why New Mexico, Victoria?"
"Why not?" she sighed. "Well Ben, what's it going to
be?"
"I need to think . . . alone."
"Fine. I know you won't leave here. I have to check on some things
anyway. I'll be back in two hours. I'll expect your answer then."
She left him then, taking the tape with her. He looked around the room.
Trying to gain equilibrium. She had left him reeling. There was no
way to protect Ray from her wrath except to kill her. He knew this.
Even if he went with her, she could still ruin Ray. He noticed she had
left the jacket of the video tape on the dresser. He moved over and
took it in his hands. It was simply black with a label that read "Victoria
Metcalf." He stared at the label. In very small print in the corner
he saw "Starlight Video Labs, Chicago, Illinois." There was
no phone number. But he had a feeling . . . there was no way to record
the goings on in his apartment unless it was a closed circuit television
camera that could feed the images to a remote location. And from what
he knew of closed circuit television, the range was very limited. And
she hadn't been in Chicago she said . . .
He picked up the telephone and asked for Chicago Information. He was
hooked up to an operator in the Windy City.
"What listing please?"
"Starlight Video Labs."
"One moment." Ben waited and soon the voice said. "Hold
for your number." A tinny voice soon repeated the number twice.
Ben hung the phone up and dialed the number of the lab.
"Starlight Video," came a youngish sounding voice.
"Hello. I am calling about a video tape that I believe you produced
for me."
"What kind of tape sir?"
"I believe it was recorded on closed circuit television. The name
is Victoria Metcalf."
"Oh yeah, I remember her. Real pretty."
"Yes, she's my . . . sister. She asked me to call because she seems
to have misplaced the tapes she had you make for her."
"Yeah, she payed us in cash to have her boyfriend's place wired.
Pretty tricky job."
"That was three tapes, right?"
"Yeah, well, we made lots of tapes, we had to send her about five
a week full of all the stuff going on in his place. She came in one
day and we edited it down to one tape's worth of useful footage. I guess
she was gonna blackmail the bum," he snickered.
"When did she come in?"
"Uh, about four days ago."
"How many copies of the final tape did you make for her?"
"Well, we duplicated three. We sent one to a bank in New Mexico
and the other two to the Plaza in NYC."
"Three? And, could she have made other copies?"
"Oh, no way, they wouldn't come out good. These tapes we use cannot
be copied by a normal VCR. It's better for business."
"I would imagine. These other tapes full of footage, in case we
can't find the misplaced copies, do you still have them?"
"No. We destroyed them at her request. But we still have a master
copy of the final tape if you need it . . . "
"Yes, I need it. But I need *the* master copy. I don't want you
to keep a copy in your archive."
"Okay, you're gonna have to come down here with ID and then we can
turn it over to you . . . "
"Thank you kindly." Ben hung the phone up. He knew now that
there was a way out of this. Only four tapes existed. Two were in NY.
One was in New Mexico and the last one was in a video lab
in Chicago. He dialed Ray's cellular phone number. He would
have to confide in Ray after all. He just prayed that Ray would
listen to him.
*****
Part IV: Hurt Like Hell
Hold on Hold on to yourself for this is gonna hurt like
hell. Hold on Hold on to yourself you know that only time can tell What
is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than
the real thing. My love you know you're my best friend
You know I'd do anything for you and my love let nothing come
between us my love for you is strong and true
Am I in heaven here or am I . . .
--Sarah McLachlan
Hold On'--Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
Arriving in New York was the easy part. Confronting Benny and
Victoria was harder. If Ray found them in bed together, he might shoot
them both. He arrived at the Plaza. He went to the desk
and asked for the room of "Benton Fraser." The desk clerk
informed him there was no Benton Fraser at the Plaza. He asked
for Victoria Metcalf. There was a Victoria Metcalf but he couldn't let
Ray have the room information, it was against hotel policy. Ray flashed
his badge and the clerk failed to notice it wasn't an NYPD badge and
promptly told Ray the room number. Ray went
on up. He didn't bother knocking on the door he simply yelled
police and prepared to kick it in. The door swung open before he could
do that.
"RAY!!! What are you doing in NY?"
"I could ask you the same question Benny," Ray grumbled. "Where
is she?" Ray walked into the room, past Benny.
"Ray, how did you find me?"
"You left the note she sent you, you moron." Ray threw the
little piece of crumpled up paper at Benny. WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Out. Ray, you have to leave. If she comes back--"
"I ain't leaving Fraser. Answers. Start talking."
"Ray, must you be so difficult?"
"Fraser! You walked out on me! No explanation. Nothin'! You
can't just treat people like that or didn't the Inuit have a story about
that?"
"Ray. If Victoria finds you here . . . "
"What? What's she gonna do? What would she do if I told her the
*truth* Fraser? Huh? About all those times in your bed that you and
I--"
"She knows Ray."
"What?!"
"She's had my apartment wired with a closed circuit camera for some
time now. She has a tape of us . . . you know. She's going to use it
to destroy you. That's why I'm here with her. I'm sorry Ray. I seem
to keep ruining your life."
Ray's anger subsided a little. So Fraser was really just trying to protect
him? "Is that the truth Benny? You sure some little part of you
didn't want to run off to be with her?"
"I told her I never loved her. Could never love her the way I love
you. She doesn't seem to care. There are four copies of the tape.
Two are here in NY. One is in New Mexico and the last one is a master
copy that the Video Lab in Chicago has. I was trying to call you . .
. to get the tape . . .you were . . . out of range." Ray could
see the pain in Ben's eyes. He was clearly hurting for having left Ray
and was feeling responsible for the trouble Ray was in now.
"Oh. Well, we have to get the tapes, Fraser."
"Yes, but I'm afraid if she sees you here it will be impossible."
"Ah, too late." There was that voice. The one that kept him
alive in the blizzard. The one that claimed love for him. The one that
knew just what to say to get him to react the way it wanted him to.
"Nice to see you, Ray. It's been too long." She had her revolver
trained on Ben. Ray had his out too, pointed at Victoria. "Drop
the gun, Vecchio. I'll shoot Ben if you don't. You know I'll do it."
He put the gun on the edge of the bed. "This was a stupid mistake,
Ben. Why'd you call Vecchio?"
"He found the note you left me in my apartment."
"Ah. Such a smart detective. Almost as good of a cop as you, Ben.
Do *you* always get your man, Ray?" She looked at Ray with her
steely eyes. "Well, evidently you do. Well now what am I going
to do? Hmm boys? I guess I could solve my *Ray* problem permanently,
now couldn't I?" She was pointing the gun at Ray. Ben watched
her finger play on the trigger. It was shaking there, but squeezing
the trigger back ever so slowly.
"NOOOOOOO!" Ben roared and in an instance had removed the
RCMP issue hand gun from his side and fired off one shot. Ray
had hit the floor as her gun had fired. Ray had avoided the bullet.
Ben stood there in horror. He didn't feel anything. Numbness
washed over him. He quickly went to Victoria's side. The gun
had clattered a few feet away. "Victoria?" She looked up at
him. Blood was pouring from the wound in her stomach. She blinked
backed tears.
"Ben . . . I knew you had it in you." She smiled faintly at
him.
"Hold on Victoria. Come on."
"No . . . too late for me . . . Ben?"
"Yes?"
"You loved me, didn't you?"
"Yes Victoria, always." She smiled sadly now.
"I knew you did. I love . . . loved . . . love . . . you . . .
"
Ray had kneeled down beside Ben and Victoria now. "The
ambulance is coming Benny."
"I thought it would be you, Ray," she choked at him.
"So did I," he said sadly, looking at Benny. The tears were
spilling down Ben's face.
*****
Part V: Good Enough
So don't tell me I haven't been good to you
Don't tell me I haven't been there for you
Just tell me why nothing is good enough
-Sarah McLachlan
Good Enough'--Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
A week. The Mountie felt grief. It still ebbed and flowed throughout
his body. The funeral had been surreal. It hadn't felt like it was
he attending it. He and the Cop had been the only mourners. Victoria
was buried in a small cemetery in NY. The Mountie had no idea
where else to bury her. The NY police had bought the story about it
being self defense. Besides, she was a wanted criminal. No need to
put a law-abiding Mountie in jail for the death of a criminal. The Mountie
and the Cop had returned to Chicago the next day. Through his connections
the Cop had all the copies of the video tape found and destroyed. That
threat was gone. The Cop also had all the closed circuit cameras removed
from the Mountie's apartment.
The Cop was keeping his distance from the Mountie. He knew that the
Mountie was suffering. After all, how could he not suffer? He had shot
and killed the only woman he ever loved. The Cop
understood a little of what the Mountie felt. He had lost Irene in a
similar way. But he hadn't been the one to deliver the bullet. But
he felt a sorrow that was not unlike how he would have felt if he had
shot Irene himself though. The Cop decided he wanted to
see the Mountie. He had to talk to him. He could feel the Mountie slipping
away from him. He went over to the apartment. It was
close to Midnight. He knocked on the Mountie's door.
"Come." He did.
"I just wanted to make sure you're all right."
The Mountie was leaning against the wall near the window, looking sideways
through it. "I killed her."
"You didn't mean to. You were protecting me. Did I thank you for
that?"
"No, I meant to. I wanted to. I knew I would do it. When I got
her note. I knew."
"You were just protecting me. Stop blaming yourself." The
Cop was approaching the Mountie.
"I would have killed her anyway. Even if you weren't in danger.
I loved her. But I couldn't help her. I wasn't good enough."
"Some people just can't be saved."
"I don't believe that. Everyone can be saved."
"No. You can't help people if they don't want to be helped."
The Mountie seemed to ponder this thought.
"Maybe you're right. I couldn't let her hurt you." The Cop
was close to the Mountie now. He lay a gentle hand on the Mountie's
shoulder. When the Mountie didn't protest, he slid his hand up
the side of the Mountie's face, running his thumb across the
Mountie's lips.
"I know Benny. I know."
*****
Epilogue: Holding Out Holding In
I love the time and in between the calm inside me
in the space where I can breathe I believe there is a distance
I have wandered to touch upon the years of reaching out and
reaching in holding out holding in. I believe this is heaven
to no one else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can
be left here to linger in silence if I choose to you would you
try to understand. I know this love is passing time pass-
ing through like liquid I am drunk in my own desire . . .
But I love the way you smile at me I love the way your hands reach out
and hold me near . . . I believe . . .
I believe this is heaven to no one
else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to
linger in silence . . .
-Sarah McLachlan
Elsewhere'--Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
Ben and Ray lay in their bed. It was silent and peaceful. It was a
sharp contrast to the last few weeks. To Ray's surprise Ben had found
his way back to him. Ray knew that Ben wasn't over Victoria. He knew
that Ben might never get over her; might never forgive himself for her
death. Ben had been unnervingly quiet since her death. Ray was suddenly
aware of Ben's eyes on him.
"Something on your mind, Benny?"
"I was just thinking. I was thinking . . ."
"What, Benny?"
"Is it wrong to be glad . . . to be glad that I'm . . . that we're
finally free of her?"
"I don't think so Benny. Can I . . . ask you something Benny?"
"Of course Ray."
"Would you . . . if you had to do it again . . . I saw the indecision
in your eyes. It was there for a fleeting second . . . if you had to
decide again . . ."
"I would do it again, Ray. I will always choose you. I will choose
your life before anyone else's life, including my own."
"Thank you Benny."
"Don't thank me Ray. It's a simple matter of survival. My life
means nothing without you in it."
"Thanks anyway Benny."
"You're welcome kindly Ray."
THE END
1996 by Michelle Sinclair