Honey and Leonard (6 page)
Authors: Mark Paul Smith
"I suppose they're waiting for clearance to take off," Leonard said.
"Oh, my, you do know a lot for a first time flier."
After much too long a wait for any nervous flyer's comfort, the plane started rolling forward and began picking up speed. Honey grabbed Leonard's hand and they both squeezed tightly as the plane lifted off and began gaining altitude at a steep angle. Honey made no comment but she could see Leonard was holding his breath. He had his eyes mostly closed except for the occasional sideways glance out the window.
Once the plane began to level and Leonard had opened his eyes, Honey said, "See how easy? Isn't this the best?"
Leonard relaxed his grip and let out a sigh of relief. Honey thought, for sure, he was going to begin complaining about something to cover up the emotions he had just experienced. Instead he said, "You know why it's better to die in a plane crash than in a nursing home?"
Honey laughed, glad to see he was in good humor. The flight attendants and several passengers had heard the set up and were waiting for the punch line. Honey was only too happy to play straight man, "No, why is it better to die in a plane crash than in a nursing home?"
"You only crap your pants once in a plane crash."
It had taken the nursing home until 10 a.m. to finally call the police. They had learned the hard way to search the premises and grounds quite thoroughly before calling in an "escape." The Wabash County police had launched several costly manhunts in recent years only to locate missing persons in on-site closets or trash containers.
Once Prosecutor Lindvall heard the report of Leonard's absence, she drove directly to Honey's home to investigate. She knew she didn't need a search warrant. Honey would invite her inside.
The front door was locked, but no one answered the bell or her persistent knocking. Now she might need a warrant. Or, she could say she was worried about Honey being injured inside and unable to answer the door.
The back door was open. "Anybody home?" she called out as she entered cautiously. Nobody answered, even after she repeated the question more loudly.
The house was neat and tidy but unoccupied. It smelled like an apple pie had recently been baked. The prosecutor began looking for clues. It didn't take long before she had solved the mystery. In the upstairs bathroom, she found Leonard's wet pajamas hanging on a hook outside the shower. She laughed out loud as she thought about Honey and Leonard playing in the shower. "Good for them," she thought as she went down the stairs and through the kitchen to check the garage.
Once she realized the Cadillac was gone, the prosecutor used Honey's kitchen phone to call the sheriff.
Much as she loved Honey and the thought of her romance with Leonard, the prosecutor had a job to do, and right now that job was to find Honey and Leonard. She didn't think to notify the airports. She was fairly certain the two lovebirds would be found cruising the country roads around Leonard's farmland. He owned hundreds of acres although he no longer farmed the land himself.
Maria Gomez from Adult Protective heard the news nearly as quickly as the prosecutor. She was in the sheriff's office with Leonard's niece, Gretchen Atkins,
by noon. The two were complaining loudly to the receptionist that not enough was being done to locate Leonard. Sheriff Donald Peterson decided it was time to come out of his office.
"What can I do for you ladies?" the sheriff asked.
"For starters," Gretchen said, "you can find my uncle. He's off with that Honey Waldrop. She's kidnapped him for sure."
"What makes you say that?"
"We heard the prosecutor checked Honey's house and her Cadillac's gone," Ms. Gomez said.
"Where'd you hear that?"
"It's all over your radios," Gretchen said.
"Maybe she went grocery shopping," the sheriff reasoned.
"The only shopping Honey does is for rich old fools who don't know a gold digger when they see one coming," Gretchen said.
"I'd be careful calling Leonard Atkins an old fool," the sheriff said. "He's been a friend of mine for more than forty years and he's not that much older than me."
"That doesn't change the fact that you got a missing person report on him from the nursing home more than two hours ago," Ms. Gomez said.
"She tried to poison my uncle," Gretchen said. "And she's run off with him in violation of a court order."
"Who says they're together?" the sheriff asked.
"Anybody with half a brain!" Ms. Gomez shouted.
With that, the Sheriff stiffened and escorted the two women out of his office, advising them what would happen if they continued to insult his intelligence. "We'll do everything we can do to locate Leonard," he said.
As they were leaving the building, Gretchen said loudly enough for the sheriff to hear, "Looks like we'll have to track them down on our own."
The sheriff shook his head and walked back into his office without further comment.
Gretchen had plenty of resources to organize a search. As Leonard's Power of Attorney, she had access to his entire fortune.
Once Gretchen and Ms. Gomez were gone, the sheriff called in reports from his officers. Nobody had located Leonard or Honey, but one deputy had learned that an elderly couple had been detained briefly in the middle of the night, heading south on the Interstate.
"That's it," the sheriff pounded his desk. "They're headed for the airport in Indy. Better notify the Federal Aviation Administration and Airport Security," he said to his chief deputy.
"You got to love Leonard. I'd have thought he was too old for this kind of tomfoolery. I guess he's proving me wrong. He was always a straight shooter but he never did give a hoot about the law.
"By the way," the sheriff said to the chief deputy, "wait a couple hours before you call the airplane people. No harm in giving Leonard a little head start."
"When I was a boy, working the farm with my daddy, we had to deal with what they now call the Great Depression. We didn't call it that, at first. Nobody knew how bad it was going to be or how long it would last. I remember asking my father about the stock market and what it was that made it crash. We were baling hay at the time. He stopped our Farmall tractor right there in the middle of the field. I knew it was important. He sat down and talked to me like I was a man. I couldn't have been more than fourteen years old, but he talked to me like a man. And, for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes. I'd never seen daddy afraid before, but this time I could feel it in my bones. Especially when he talked about how we could lose the farm if the bank in North Manchester failed. That's the first time I knew that even a farmer needed a bank to get along.
"Anyway, I didn't understand much of what he tried to explain, but in the next couple years things got real tough all over. Our house was less than a quarter mile from the railroad tracks that went to Chicago. Lots of guys riding the rails in those days, and it didn't take long for word to get around that my mother would feed anybody who came to her back door and asked for food. Daddy never let them make camp on our land but he didn't stand in the way when momma fed them. Some days she'd feed more than a dozen men, and not just scraps. She fed them steak and eggs and biscuits with gravy and gave them big glasses of fresh milk. Even let them get water and clean up at the well behind the cow barn.
"We never got robbed, not once. Those guys were all decent men, looking for work. Daddy hired a few of them for short-term work."
"What about your mother?" Honey asked. "What did she say about her free kitchen?"
"My mother was a generous soul. She taught my brother, Daniel, and me what she called the secret to a happy life."
"You mean the secret to happiness?" Honey asked, loud enough for most of the first class section to hear.
"That's right, the secret to happiness," Leonard said, making her wait for it.
"Well, come on. I'm sure we'd all like to know."
"You already know it," Leonard teased.
Jennifer, the flight attendant, came up from the back of the plane, "What's this I hear about the secret to happiness?"
"Leonard was just about to tell us," Honey said, hugging her. "I'm glad you're here to hear it."
Leonard grinned and leaned back in his chair to say, "Now, I forget what we were talking about."
"Don't you do that to us," Honey laughed, pushing his shoulder.
"All right," he said. "Here it is, the secret to happiness. Are you sure you're ready?"
"Yes, we're more than ready."
"Okay then, here it is. The secret to happiness is to help other people."
Honey beamed at Jennifer, who passed on the smile to several other passengers who had tuned in to the Leonard show.
"I think that is absolutely correct," Jennifer said. "It is that simple. I always feel best about myself when I'm helping someone else."
"Then you should feel pretty good about yourself," Leonard said, "for all the help you and your friend gave us today."
"You've been an angel," Honey agreed.
"I can't believe we're getting away with this trip to Paris," he said. "I thought they'd have us by Indianapolis. We haven't been covering our trail at all. We bought the tickets in our real names."
"What's the worst they could do to us if they did catch us?" Honey asked.
"They could keep us apart."
"Oh, dear. Then we'd better keep moving," Honey said.
Maria Gomez used her adult protective credentials to convince the Federal Bureau of Investigation that an elderly man had been kidnapped and was in mortal danger. It didn't take the F.B.I. long to discover Honey and Leonard's flight plan. They tried to make arrangements to have officers lie in wait in Paris, but French officials were less than enthusiastic about becoming involved in the case. The French never did like Americans telling them what to do. And an elder couple flying to Paris didn't seem like much of a threat to national security.
Once they landed in Paris, Jennifer helped them through customs and got them a cab, saying to the driver, "Hotel Frontenac, please."
"You've got a reservation for two nights," she said to Honey as they hugged goodbye. "And you've got my number at the airline. They can always track me down. I'm off to Singapore so I won't be seeing you for a while. I'll look you up next time I'm in Indianapolis. Goodbye, Leonard, take good care of our girl. Have a wonderful time in Paris."
Less than an hour after saying goodbye to Honey and Leonard, Jennifer found herself being interrogated by airline security. She told them she had never met a more delightful couple. She also said Leonard seemed in compete control of his mental faculties and that Honey was in no way exerting control over him.
"Am I in trouble for helping them?" she asked.
"Not as long as you didn't know they were on the run."
"You are my dream come true," Leonard said as he kissed her tenderly. "I never met a woman who could make things happen as fast as you. I don't know how you came up with those airplane girls. I don't know what we would have done without them."
"Somebody else would have come along. Don't you see, sweetie? We've got love on our side."
Leonard caught the driver checking them out in the rearview mirror, so he said, "Hey, there. Thanks for the lift. Do you speak English?"
"A little bit," the driver said.
"That's all we need," Leonard said. "We're looking for the Eiffel Tower."
"Yes, yes, I take you there," the driver said. "Is near hotel."
It didn't take long before Honey and Leonard were surrounded by the magic of Paris. By the time the Eiffel Tower came into view, Honey was bouncing on the seat like a little girl.
"There it is. Oh, my stars, there it is. It looks like a postcard. I feel like I'm floating into a postcard. The Eiffel Tower looks even prettier than
the pictures. It's taller than I thought it would be. And look at all the buildings. They look like fancy birthday cakes. And the cafés with the
awnings. Everything looks so French. Oh, my, we'd better get to the hotel fast. I'm so excited I'm going to wet my pants."
The driver must have thought she was serious because he got them to the hotel in a hurry. Honey paid him in French currency and tipped him handsomely. Jennifer had helped her exchange quite a bit of money in the airport.
They checked into the hotel, found their room and fell into bed with their clothes on for an exhausted nap.
He didn't notice Honey still sleeping in the bed. The window had captured his attention. It seemed outlined in shining silver, its see-through curtains flowing in a slight breeze as if beckoning him to the window with the outstretched arms of angels.
Suddenly, and for no good reason, he was afraid of the window. Its allure became menacing and it began to feel like a trap. He began to feel cold.
Where am I? What has happened to me?
He checked his arms and legs to make sure he still had a body and got up slowly to move away from the window. He heard his mother calling him from far away.
Why is mother calling?
The voice seemed to be coming from the window. Despite his fear, Leonard moved toward the sound of his mother's voice. The window and its curtains sucked him into the light of his own confusion. His heart was racing as he looked through the window screen and tried to understand where he was and what he was doing there. It was a terrible feeling, not knowing.
The scenery was no help at all. It was totally unfamiliar and unnerving. He was lost, inside and out.
"Leonard, it's time for bed," his mother said.
"Mother, where are you? I can't see you."
"I'm right here. I'm always with you. You know how much I love you. But it is time for bed."
"I need to see you so you can tuck me in and give me a kiss goodnight."
He felt a kiss on his forehead and then heard the voice say, "Sleep tight, my son. You don't need to see me. Sleep tight. Tomorrow's going to be another big day."
"What's happening to me?" he asked his mother. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"Don't worry about losing what you think is your mind," his mother said softly. "The mind is much more than you think. We all become a part of it eventually."
"When we die?"
"Nobody ever dies," his mother said. "We simply escape the illusion, the prison, of self."
"So what do I do until then?"
"Be happy with what you got."
Leonard chuckled at hearing her favorite saying. He didn't sound like himself. His half-laugh sounded like it was coming from far away.
His mother's voice felt comforting. Then she was gone, without saying goodbye. He was alone again. He felt like someone else. Someone he didn't know. Someone he wasn't supposed to be. He couldn't remember who he was. His mother was gone. He could no longer feel her love. He was sweating. He was confused. Nothing made sense.
His anxiety began to rise until he heard what he thought was his mother's voice again. This time it came from behind him. He turned and saw a woman in his bed. It wasn't his mother at all.
I know this woman. I know I know her. Why can't I recognize her?
"Leonard, it's me. It's Honey. Wake up, sleepy head. You're dreaming."
He could feel the woman shaking him and calling herself "Honey." He still couldn't remember how he knew her. She helped him sit down on the bed and brought him a glass of water. He gulped down the entire drink and looked at the woman sadly.
"Thank you. I needed that. I thought you were my mother. Who are you? Are you an angel?"
"Leonard, it's me, Honey. We just flew in to Paris and now we're in our hotel room. You just woke up. You're a little confused. Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Leonard looked out the window from his seat on the bed and saw his mother waving to him from the curtains. She was young and beautiful. As he waved back, she disappeared. His mind began to slowly refocus. The woman who brought him the glass of water was talking about things he didn't understand. He wasn't really listening to anything she said. He was straining to hear the voice of his mother again.
"She's gone," he said. "Mother's gone."
Honey got him up and off the bed and walked him back to the window. Her warm touch started to bring him back to reality. It took a while but the woman began to convince him they were in France.
"Come into the bathroom," she said. "I can prove it. Look in here. See that thing that looks like a toilet but isn't a toilet at all? That's a bidet. You know about these. Look, it has water that comes up from the basin to clean your bottom. You've never seen one of these in Indiana, have you? That's because you're in France now. This is a bidet, and we're in Paris. I'm Honey, and you love me. Just remember, do not go to the bathroom in the bidet. That's not what it's for."
Leonard had to laugh at her presentation, and as he did, he began to remember who she was. His memory came back to him like frames in a reel of film that start off as still pictures and then gradually turn into fluid motion as the reel speeds up.
"Honey," he said as he recognized her. "I thought you were my mother."
"I am definitely not your mother."
"How long have I been gone?"
"Not that long. How long have you been awake? I was sleeping."
Leonard was deeply shaken. These mental lapses were getting to be as bad as seizures. He never knew when they were coming and he never knew how long they would last. His biggest fear was that the next one would take him out for good. And that would take his love away.
What is wrong with me?
He knew he was repeating himself a lot. Honey always told him about that. And he knew he was having trouble coming up with words when he needed them. All that was normal for a person his age. What he didn't know was when he would suddenly feel lost and afraid again.
"Do you remember how we got here?" Honey asked.
"Not really. I mean, wait a second. I do remember the Eiffel Tower. We were in a taxi. Yes, we were coming from the airport and there was that lovely young woman, what was her name?"
"Jennifer."
"Ah, yes, Jennifer. She was pretty much our guardian angel for the entire flight. Where is she now?"
"See, your memory is fine. All it takes is me to bring it back. Do you remember why we came to France in the first place?"
"Yes, I do," Leonard said as he began to regain his confidence. "My niece Gretchen is trying to get me declared incompetent and she's trying to get you charged with murder."
"
Attempted
murder," Honey said. "You're still alive. And you're my star witness."
His face lightened up. His frown turned into a wry grin. Suddenly, the light bulb turned on in his troubled mind. He looked at Honey as she tried to talk him back into his own memory. Now, he knew what she was doing. Now, he knew what she'd been up to all along.
"You're about ten steps ahead of me," he said.
"Make that twenty," Honey laughed.
"No, I see what you're doing. We're taking this trip so you can prove I'm competent and so you can prove you would never try to hurt me."
"Well, at least now I know you're competent," Honey said. "I was beginning to think you thought we were just running away."
Leonard looked at her and realized he had never loved anyone so deeply. She could change in an instant from his favorite little girl into his most cherished lover. He loved her every incarnation. She kept him on his toes, emotionally, physically and intellectually. She gave herself to him unconditionally and would accept nothing less in return. The best thing about her was that she loved him with all her heart. That made him feel quite a bit better about who he was and what he was doing.
"I never ran away from anything in my life," Leonard said. "It just started looking like it was high time for me to take you to Paris. I didn't run away from that nursing home. I walked away. I made a choice.
We
made a choice. We chose love and we chose Paris, and now, here we are, together in Paris. It's magic, I tell you. It's pure magic."
"Take me dancing, you big, strong, beautiful man."
"Let's take a shower first. Paris can wait."
"Looks like theater seating," Leonard said. "Must be some kind of show going on."
"We're the show," Honey laughed as she took him in both her arms and pressed her face into his chest. "It's love on parade. Everybody wants to see that."
They passed a young couple dressed completely in black. They weren't arm in arm or even holding hands. They were much too Goth for any show of affection. Honey had to throw herself against Leonard to get him to stop staring.
"Did you see that girl?" he asked after they had passed. "She has rings all over her face, rings on her nose, rings on her lower lip and rings on both her eyebrows. She looks like a cannibal headhunter."
"That's the new thing," Honey said. "Kids don't just pierce their ears anymore. They pierce everything."
Leonard stopped dead in his tracks, horrified at the thought. "You mean all that jewelry was holes in her face?"
Honey nodded.
"How can she eat? How can she wash her face? My Lord, how can she blow her nose? Wouldn't everything come out the hole?"
Honey laughed.
"No, really, I'm not kidding. Did you see her? She had rings on her eyebrows. Big ones. They have to get in her eyes. Why would anyone do that?"
"They're just kids, sweetie. They're out to change the world. They do things to shock their parents. It's perfectly normal. We did it too. We had Benny Goodman and swing and the jitterbug and dance marathons."
"There's nothing normal about putting metal through holes in your face," Leonard snorted. "And I never did the jitterbug until after the war."
Honey grabbed both his hands and started dancing, pushing him away, then pulling him back, and then twirling completely around with one hand in the air. Leonard put his complaining aside and got caught up in the moment; spinning and strutting his own dance moves. In an instant, they felt young again, leading each other around an ornamental light pole and putting on quite a dancing demonstration as they pranced into the street together. Traffic slowed to avoid and admire the impromptu performance. Their dancing wasn't as fast or energetic as it had once been, but they still looked good, even in slower motion. They'd danced enough together to be able to spin each other completely backwards and around while still holding hands.
