Fall in the San Francisco Bay Area can be cold, wet, and miserable. Or it can be the most pleasant place on earth.
Hooker dropped off Mae to get her oil checked and to allow Maddie and Willie to put in the new headliner with controls for all the lights and a hidden siren. Candy had dropped off the Granny car for Willie and Maddie to relive a memory by going for fish and chips at the new Monterey Cannery Fish House up on Monterey Highway.
As the sun peeked over the hills and warmed the Bay Area, the old DeSoto cruised at a leisurely fifty, befitting the style and grace of the two tons of classic ride. Hooker’s left arm was on the windowsill, as he drove with his two fingers and thumb. His right arm was draped along the back of the bench seat, with his right arm around Candy’s shoulder.
Stella had lent her new daughter a silk scarf Manny had brought back from Japan. The sky blue matched the canopy above and went perfectly with the ponytail. Hooker had even remembered to buy a pair of dark glasses at the Thrifty’s while they were getting two triple-scoops of French vanilla in sugar cones.
The cones had almost made it to the city limits.
The new custom leather jacket he had received the previous week fit him perfectly. Danny had a tear in his eye, and Hooker had noticed it. Danny had just told him, “Shut up, fool.” Everyone had laughed. But the real surprise had been when Dolly had brought out two other boxes, one for Candy, and one for the Squirt. There were few dry eyes among the eighty close friends on the party deck for Hooker’s birthday.
Hooker ran his fingers over Candy’s leather jacket. She put her hand up and covered his. She leaned harder into his chest and arm. He could feel her other hand lightly on his jeans. The two smiled in the sun as the deep rumble of the big V8 barely changed pace as it climbed the hill behind Stanford University.
“So, do you like your girl in a leather jacket?”
“I like my girl. It doesn’t matter if she is in a leather jacket, waitress uniform, or nurse’s scrubs.”
She smiled coyly and looked out over the bay as it came into view. “What about in none of those?”
Hooker smiled and couldn’t resist baiting the trap and teasing the tiger. “It would depend. What color of underwear?”
Candy chuckled. She had known him long enough to like his off-kilter sense of humor. She also realized he was comfortable enough in their relationship to approach joking about intimate things, something both of them were still a little gun-shy on.
“Well, I might have to consult with Willie... but I suppose they would have to be color-coordinated.”
Hooker hummed and nodded. “Black leather boxers... Are you planning to borrow his…?”
She reached over and found his ticklish spot.
They rode in silence for a few miles, each lost in their own unique thoughts.
Candy shifted and snuggled down deeper into his chest. “You still haven’t told me where you are secreting me away to for three days.”
He considered. “It wouldn’t be much of a secret if I told you when you had only asked for the ninth time, now would it?”
She settled in and feigned pouting. She had never been treated to a real surprise before. She watched the airplane taking off from the San Francisco airport. She thought that one day, they too would fly somewhere. She didn’t know where, but it sounded romantic just to fly off somewhere. Maybe somewhere exotic, like Los Angeles or New York.
The city slid by with noise and buildings as they got tall and then not. Candy sat up to watch the park drift by on both sides. The thought of the Golden Gate Park being a long and slender park pierced by major streets still seemed strange to her. She hoped one day she and Hooker could come see the zoo and other things.
She realized that doing things was something neither one of them did—they had always been working.
The Golden Gate Bridge had captured both of their imaginations. Hooker had stopped on the Marin County side, and they walked a way back onto the bridge. Alcatraz Island was a strange mix of serene living space, and a creepy prison.
They stopped in a small town for some lunch and were back on the road. The road was now only two lanes, and Candy fantasized about it being the fifties and the car was new. The large car pushed a lot of air, and they could hear the masses of fallen leaves cheering as they blew through them.
The small sign said simply, The Apple Farm. The large chrome grill slowed and nosed into the narrow driveway. The orchard on the left was large and deep. The trees were almost bare, with only spots of colored leaves hanging tenaciously from the limbs. As they rounded the curve of the driveway, the small hillside on the right gave way to the large expanse of lawn.
The three-story farmhouse rose white on the hillside. The wraparound porch was deep and filled with rockers and gliders, as well as a few tables and chairs. The clapboard siding shone in the late afternoon sun, and the windows were dark with mystery.
As they glided into the parking area next to a couple of other cars, Hooker reached up and waved to the woman hanging sheets on the long clothesline. The woman waved and started toward them. The soft halo of white hair piled high on her head, along with the long dress, gave the impression it was a different time, and the house was new. She turned her head and yelled something toward the large red barn, but they couldn’t hear what she said.
“Hooker, so good to see you.” The woman fell into his arms. He winced at the hug. She released and stepped back. “This episode or the dimes?”
“The dimes.” He turned to open Candy’s door only to find her already standing there. He turned as he slid his arm over her shoulder. “Candy, this is Aunt Claire. She is Stella’s best friend since...” He frowned, fishing for an answer, “third grade?”
She pushed him aside. “Nice try. We were born in the same room one hour apart.” She gently guided Candy away from the leather Lothario. “Stelly and I swore pinkie best friends for life in the nursery.” She hugged Candy as she mumbled into her hair, “Welcome to the Apple Farm, Candy. Stella has told me so much of nothing about you. So it must be all true, and you can fill me in on mister silver-in-the-butt here.”
She turned back toward the barn. With lungs only rural farm living creates, she called out, “Norman! Bags!” She watched as the man walked out of the gloom of the barn. She turned back to look at Hooker. “He’s got himself a new Johnny Popper, and it’s giving him the dickens to get running.”
Hooker smiled. “I’ll look at it while we’re here.”
As the man walked up, Hooker held out his hand. “Good to see you again, Norm.”
“Likewise, Hooker. This is a very pleasant surprise.” He walked toward the trunk as the women wandered arm and arm up toward the house. “Let me get those bags for you.”
Hooker unlocked the trunk as the man admired the car. “Willie sure does take good care of her.”
“Norm, if I didn’t know any better, I would think this car was his greatest love. But then, you haven’t met his Hank yet. You’ll see what I mean at Christmas. You are coming down this year, aren’t you?” The man nodded as he reached in for the two small bags.
“Good for him?” The man paused to look for an answer, still the clinical psychiatrist and doctor.
“Very. I don’t think I have heard of any night terrors since they became serious.”
“Good.” He took up the bags again, refusing Hooker’s hand. “Love has a curative nature for the disturbed soul.”
As they walked, Hooker broke the silence. “How is she?”
The man thought a few strides. “She still has more rough days than good, but I think she also sees the light at the end of the tunnel.” He stopped and looked at Hooker, studying his face. “I hope you don’t think she will ever be normal—by any stretch of the imagination. The normal girl you remember, just isn’t in there.”
He turned and looked out toward some trees on the far lawn. “I don’t think she will have to be institutionalized, but she will never be a productive member of society.” He turned back toward Hooker. “She will always be frail.”
“But she isn’t dying.”
“I can’t say. She won’t live a long life, but I don’t think she is acutely terminal, no.”
They stood looking at each other, taking measure. Finally, the older doctor flicked his head back toward the far lawn. “I think you two might want to talk a bit before she meets Candy.” He raised the bags. “I’ve got these. Go see your sister.”
Hooker reached out and grasped the man’s shoulder in his hand. He bit his lip, thankful for the dark glasses. The man just nodded and turned for the house.
Hooker walked through the grass. His walk was slow and casual.
She wore a powder blue dressing gown. Her head and shoulders were covered by a straw hat with a wide brim. She lounged in the whitewashed Adirondack chair. When Hooker was still thirty feet away, she lay down her book. She looked out across the valley. Her voice was soft as a kitten’s breath. “My knight returns well met.”
As he came close, she raised her left hand. The white gloves covered to and over her sleeves. He took it and squeezed with the weight of a moth. Hooker bent over and kissed the fingers softly and staying for a few seconds. He could feel her collapse in on herself.
“You were hurt.”
“Yes.”
“They told me night.”
“They shouldn’t have.”
“I already knew.”
Hooker sat on the other chair and leaned back, letting the wood support him. He was so tired. He knew where the conversation would go next.
“Dog took Raven to hell with him.”
“That was his name?”
“It was, but he had another name. The name your people are looking for. Try the name Samson Stubbs. I think he had a Bakersfield connection.”
“How did you find...?”
She rolled her head and looked at him. Suddenly, her head flopped over, and her tongue lolled out. The image flashed him back to the foster home in Riverside. They had woken up in the middle of the night and turned on the television with the sound almost off. Vincent Price was the last man on earth where everyone had become a zombie.
He chuckled, and then he started laughing. The tension was too much to stop. They were both giggling with bursts of belly laughter as they made faces at each other they hadn’t for almost fifteen-years. Hooker laughed, knowing now where the stupid zombie response had started.
As the sun neared the hills, they became quiet. Hooker had moved his chair closer, and they sat holding hands, watching the sun slide beyond the horizon.
“I think he loved me.”
Hooker thought about the chiseled marble mud man. “He gave his life for you.”
“He saw how to kill evil, and even though he knew it would cost him his life, he still felt it was worth the trade.”
“No. He gave you his highest gift—his heart. Taking out the other man, Raven was just what he had to do, but he still gave his life for you.”
She looked at her brother. “I can’t live with that. I wasn’t worth more than him.”
“You don’t have a choice other than to hold his gift in your heart. The choice was his. All you have to do is accept you’re worth his depth of love.”
“Would you do it for me? Lay down your life like that?”
Hooker thought.
“Would you do it for Candy?”
Hooker turned and frowned. “You even know her name?” He let his head fall back. “Of course, you know her name. You know Peter.”
“Peter and I were... mated... for a while.”
“Then...?”
“Peter is a very caring and gentle man. When I became The Mouse, I knew the Tribe would never tolerate such a fragile person. So I had to drive him off.”
He listened to his sister’s voice. The old connections were there still. “But you still have a fondness for him.”
The forward edge of the hat dipped in the gathering dusk.
“You didn’t answer me about laying down your life for Candy or me.”
He looked at her. “I hope the day never comes where I have to find out. However, I would like to think I am capable of that depth of love.”
His sister was quiet. He thought she might have drifted off to sleep.
Dusk was complete, and the dark drifted down on them. Hooker watched. Under the dress, and from beneath the hat, there came a faint glow.
“We should go up. They would be holding dinner for us.”
She took his arm as they walked. She rubbed her hand along the leather. She leaned over and put her nose close and breathed deep. The smell of new leather was like no other.
Hooker held the door. As she stepped in the door, she removed her large hat. Her hair was gone. The treatments had started, and she had no hair or even eyebrows.
Candy stood up from the stool and placed her glass of wine on the large island. She walked over with her hands out. Her face was open. Hooker saw it was the same face she always had with Jerry, Father Damian, or even him. It was total acceptance.
He swallowed. “Candy, this is my sister...”
She stepped forward and took Candy’s hands. “I’ve known your name for years. You have looked after so many of my... friends. Please… Call me Sissy.”