Startz’s breath rasped in his lungs and he cursed his lack of fitness. He made a mental note to do something about it. Then he screamed aloud at the absurdity of the idea. But his mind was operating in distress mode, insinuating quite random but rational thoughts into his consciousness.
As he hugged Holly to him like a bridegroom and as he struggled up the slippery incline, occasionally falling to his knees as the muddy screed slithered underneath his feet, he was planning her rehabilitation programme. He would not accept, even for one second, that she might not pull through. The wind that had swirled in the wake of the storm had eased a little, enough to lessen the strain. What breeze there was thankfully blew from behind, urging him to climb as though his life depended on it.
Thomas Startz had been a reclusive, uncommunicative boy until his sister appeared. She had brought him out of his shell. Now, years later, he would have to employ all his considerable professional skill to release her from hers.
The blaze from the car was dying down fast. Flickers of light were now reflecting through the trees helping Startz find his way back up to the road. He thought about the bikers and his mind hardened. Somehow, somewhere he would find them. Their paths would cross. And when they did, they would suffer. Startz fuelled his aching limbs with thoughts of the agonies he would inflict on Rainbow. He would have to get him alone, preferably on the operating table. Then he would be made to live up to his name. He would suffer before he died.
With Holly almost slipping from his sweating, rain soaked arms, Startz suddenly burst through the overhanging branches of a desert willow and there it was. The highway stretched away in both directions, empty and desolate. To the west the lights of the city provided some semblance of hope but they may as well have been on another planet. To the east there was nothing.
Startz tottered around the vapour shrouded road surface and wept. He laid Holly gently at the side of the road. She was shivering. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? It meant she was alive at least. He held her to him to try and generate some warmth and grimly wished that a part of the blazing wreck below was up here with them to steam the aching cold from their bones.
In the distance, specks of light appeared, in both directions. Startz thought quickly, with the crystal clear reasoning of a man on the edge.
An accident. It had to be. The drivers had to see Holly. Then they might stop. With luck they would see the glow of the incinerated Lincoln some way off and put two and two together. With even more luck they wouldn’t think there had been any kind of foul play. That would just cause them to accelerate away.
Holly was now moaning quietly. Startz tried to encase her body in his. He knew she might not survive a night in the desert.
He could only pray that someone would stop and soon.
****
A slow blues softly told a story of heartbreak. Someone was playing an harmonica very quietly somewhere in the back of the bus. No one objected or told the unseen musician to pipe down, to can the noise. The music seemed to catch the winsome mood inside the bus as it cruised across the flat dust plain.
The evening sun was being swept behind fast moving clouds as they raced in the wake of the storm up ahead. Stars were pinned to the darkening sky and as Ella stared out of the window in a kind of trance, she could see occasional slivers of lightning bursting over the land. It looked like they were catching up with the storm.
Up ahead she could just make out the glow of a fire. It was some way off but it was shifting in and out of focus. What could it be? Maybe a plane had crashed, or a truck. Whatever it was, it must be a pretty big blaze.
****
The giant Dodge truck slowed then stopped a few yards in front of Startz and Holly. Startz was delirious with relief, almost babbling.
The trucker jumped down from his cab. He was a medium built man with close-cropped grey tinged hair. He just said, Hmph, when he came close to Holly.
‘Thank God,’ Startz breathed. ‘We were attacked. They hurt my sister. I’ve got to get her to a hospital.’
The trucker looked down at the prone figure of Holly. Startz was cradling her head in his arms. He started to weep quietly.
‘Reckon we need us an ambulance, mister,’ he said slowly and deliberately. ‘I’ll get on the radio while you get your sister inside the cab. I guess it’s safe to move her. I reckon it’s worth the risk. I’ve got warm dry blankets in back. She don’t look so good. Okay let’s go.’
Startz picked up Holly tenderly but stiffly. His joints had locked and he had to force his legs to move to the rear of the front cab. The trucker opened the cab door to reveal a well organised sleeping and kitchen area complete with blankets and quilts and the lingering smell of recently brewed coffee.
The trucker, who told Startz to call him Joe, helped manoeuvre Holly up into the cab without causing her too much distress. Startz clambered in and made her comfortable.
‘Help yourself to some coffee, pal, while I make some calls,’ he said.
Ella’s bus slowed as it approached the barrier. A state police car had blocked half the road. Lights were blazing from a number of vehicles, including an interstate truck and an ambulance with its rear doors open.
Ella watched from the safety of her seat. The accident had woken up most of the passengers and was providing a well-needed injection of excitement into the trip.
A woman was being stretchered aboard. Ella couldn’t see much of her injuries as the bus inched its way past the road block. She saw a man standing by the stretcher. He looked rough and dishevelled. Despite the grime and dirt he looked somehow oddly familiar. It was tantalising. Ella knew she ought to recognise the man but it wouldn’t click. The poor guy looked at the end of his tether. He’s going to collapse any second, she said to herself.
The bus picked up speed and the passengers settled down to whisper amongst themselves. Eventually, as the excitement wore off,
The lights of a small town eventually approached. With a shock she realised this might be her stop. In her distress she had bought a ticket at random. She could not remember the name of the town she had picked. A shiver of apprehension ran through her. Now was the moment of truth. Outside the now familiar warmth of the bus was another world; one she was going to have to face sooner or later. She saw the town sign approaching. Yellow Springs, population 5,500 flashed the sign in the glare of the lights. She checked her ticket, rummaging in her shoulder bag and disturbing the sleeping woman in the next seat. Sure enough, Yellow Springs it was. It was close to midnight. The place would be asleep. Maybe she could find a room and then tomorrow look for a job. Chances were she would end up sleeping in the bus station or in a doorway.
The bus rolled in. Ella glanced out at the sleepy town. There was no one about. A diner was open, however. She could see a couple of customers sipping coffee. She also saw something that filled her with hope. The sign said, “Waitress Wanted”, as clear as day in hastily scribbled blue ink. Ella experienced a surge of courage. She would go for it. Talk about luck. All she had to do now was get the job. She smiled at the woman in the seat alongside. She glared at Ella as she made room for her to squeeze by. Ella was the only person getting off at Yellow Springs. And there were no passengers waiting to climb on board.
It was chilly outside. Ella looked back with regret at her window seat, already occupied by the bad tempered woman. With a wheeze of brakes and a grumble from the throbbing diesel, the bus pulled away leaving Ella alone in a deserted station. With more confidence than she felt, Ella shouldered her bag, took a deep breath and headed for the diner.
****
Holly Startz spent several months cocooned in the safe, clinical environment of Heaven’s Gate. Her brother had given her top priority and it had been clear from the outset that, although her face had been pretty well messed up, it could be put back together. It would never be as good as it was but the surgery was a tribute to the skill of the surgeon. The cranial fracture was healing and her hairline could hide the scarring. Startz had fixed her jaw and nose and waited for her to recover and get their lives back to normal.
The unpalatable truth, which Startz had so far avoided facing, was that Holly would never be truly back to normal. She lay awake most days, being fed by a private attendant and then, after a few weeks, she started to feed herself. She had not spoken more than a few words since the attack, and no one who knew her could be quite sure if she recognised them or not. Startz spent most of his free time by her bedside. He talked to her and she watched him but did not react or reply.
Then one day, after she had been visited by innumerable psychiatrists, psychotherapists and a neuro surgeon, it became clear even to Startz that Holly needed full time professional help and observation. It was hard for him to accept that he could do nothing more for her. When he chose a private nursing home for her he selected the very best; a de-luxe sanatorium called Shalimar.
Startz watched impotently as white starched staff fussed around Holly as though she was royalty, which in way she was as far as they were concerned. Holly stared out of the window and let herself be positioned, groomed, manicured and made up. Doctor Machin, head of psychiatric care, took Startz by the arm. There was no need for words, or explanations. Holly would come out of her trauma when she was good and ready; when the healing process had been completed: if it ever was.
For Thomas Startz it was as if his life had begun anew. Although not his twin, he had always felt that Holly was so much a part of him that they could well have been joined at the hip. They were certainly joined at the heart.
He drove back to Los Angeles in a questioning frame of mind. This had grown by the time he reached Bel Air into a full frontal assault life crisis. He suddenly didn’t care about the high tech surgery he had spent years of his life promoting and cultivating. He cared even less for the middle aged, narcissistic, overweight and over-rich customers who dangled on his every word and his every incision.
He stood outside the sumptuous entrance to his little kingdom and suddenly he didn’t want it any more. That was the moment Thomas Startz decided to walk away from his life. He said little to his staff. He rang his lawyer and told him he was taking off for a while. His senior staff could cope without him. He was just taking an extended vacation, maybe for a while, maybe for good. He left the details to him. He had money and by God he was going to spend it.
It didn’t take Startz long to get drunk, and stay that way. He allowed himself to slip into an orgy of excess. Very little mattered now. Holly was probably going to die, or be a vegetable for the rest of her life. He realised, as he sat slouching in a bar near Venice beach, that he was truly empty inside. There was nothing there. He searched for his soul; searched for his spirit and found a gaping emptiness. He desperately wanted to fill that immense void before it engulfed him. He called for another Jack Daniels with a Bud chaser. Nothing else could hold back the inexorable progress of that vast nothingness. He decided to drive to the desert and seek sanctuary there. He needed to find his tribal roots or at least some kind of spiritual retreat. Heaven’s Gate would be in good hands during his sojourn. Heaven could just fucking wait, he smiled to himself. There was just time for another Jack Daniels before he left.
****
The Morning Glory diner was in breakfast mode. The inhabitants of Yellow Springs were not too communicative but were friendly in a distant kind of way. The new waitress cleaning tables, serving specials and sweeping up attracted little attention. In fact, customers looked at Ella once or twice then lost interest. The fact that she was new in town would normally be enough of a story to fuel a few conversations. Apart from the occasional comment, the odd smile and the few mistakes she made, she went largely unnoticed.
Yellow Springs would do Ella fine for now, just fine. She needed somewhere to collect her thoughts; someplace where she could remain unobtrusive, where nothing much happened, where she could spend a little time before deciding what to do with her life. She had called her parents after a day or so. She hated causing them any pain and worry but it was inevitable just now. They had implored her to come home and sort things out. She had refused, gently, and explained that she just had to find herself in her own way. She assured them it was not their fault, she loved them and she wasn’t unhappy at home. It was just, well, she had to be allowed some space. Ella had a pretty good idea of where she would be heading for next, somewhere with bright lights and action.
She had already called St Anthony’s to discover there had been little change in Ed’s condition. He was comfortable, that’s the best that could be said. Her pain was like a lead weight in her heart. One day it would ease. One day Ed might wake up and they could carry on with their lives.
Thomas Startz hunched over the wheel of his Mercedes coupé. He was unshaven, drunk and his eyes were filled with the fervour of a man who is searching for truth. The road up to Shalimar was unlit but Startz could see the lights of the nursing home up ahead. He was dressed in a dishevelled white suit and he sipped bourbon as he hummed along to Beethoven’s ninth. Then he belched, begged his own pardon, and slowed, staring through the windscreen as he approached the gates.
One last time. That’s what was needed, he told himself. He had to see Holly one last time before he went on his travels. He had grown to like the idea of escaping into the unknown. It appealed to the romantic in him.
Minutes later he had parked at an angle by reception and was standing, swaying slightly, inside the plush interior. He fixed a smile to his face and approached the desk where a receptionist looked up and recognised him. Her smile remained fixed to her face but any sincerity it contained vanished as she watched this shambling drunk approaching.
‘Good evening, Doctor Startz, how nice to see you again,’ she cooed. ‘If you’d like to take a seat, sister will be with you directly.’
Startz grunted and slumped into a chair. He rose again unsteadily as the psychiatric senior sister arrived.
‘Will you come this way, Doctor Startz. Holly is waiting for you. Did you have a good journey?’
Startz belched and the sister averted her face. She led the way silently along thick pile carpets to a series of private rooms. She entered the first, followed by Startz. The room was dimly lit, striated with light and shadow. Holly sat in her chair by the window looking out.
‘There’s been little change I’m afraid,’ the sister told Startz. She paused. ‘I’ll leave you two together then. Just buzz if you need me. And, try not to overtire her.’
The sister left with a concealed sigh of relief. Startz moved shakily towards his sister. Slowly she looked round and watched him.
‘Sis,’ Startz began, then his voice faltered as he looked into the vacant eyes of his sister. Holly rose from her seat and walked towards him slowly, showing no real sign of recognition. ‘You look wonderful kid,’ mumbled her brother, whose professional eye noticed the merest hint of a scar near her temple. Within her eyes there was a deep well, an emptiness that sucked in the outside world like an optic sponge and reflected nothing, emitting an intangible voidness of spirit.
Startz was determined not to reveal his deep concern. He felt himself become almost instantly sober. Holly was still beautiful and he was sure she knew who he was but she was still and silent as a marble statue.
For a moment they both stood there, in the centre of the room, one unable to speak, the other with nothing to say. Startz was suddenly reminded of the earlier days, when Holly had been a child and he had watched her endlessly, playing in a dappled sunlit room. It all came back then, the feelings he had nurtured for her which he had promptly quashed, red faced with shame. Then came the years of hard work and study and then the death of their parents in an automobile accident. Startz became father and mother to Holly as well as brother. He had done a good job. He was proud of himself. And now?
And now his thoughts were brought back forcibly to the present by a persistent drumming noise.
Holly was smiling up at him. He reacted to a warm wet smell as the drumming noise continued.
He looked down. A small, steaming puddle had formed around his shoes. Holly was urinating unselfconsciously. He backed away, at first horrified then saddened.
‘Don’t worry, sis, I’ll get someone,’ he burbled. ‘Look, I know you know who I am. I know you recognise me. I’m going away for a while. I need to...look I’ll fetch the nurse. Why don’t you sit down?’
Startz stretched out his hands to place them on her shoulders. Holly’s vacant smile vanished and a look of fear then loathing came into her eyes. She growled low in her throat. Saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth. She backed away like a wounded lynx. Her growls began to turn into howls and whimpers.
Startz was shocked. He tried to touch her, to reason with her. Holly retreated to the window and cringed against the glass. The door opened behind him and a nurse entered. She walked softly to Startz’s side, gleaming in her uniform.
‘I think it would be wise to leave her now, Doctor Startz,’ whispered the nurse.
Slowly Startz turned and allowed himself to be escorted quietly out of the room.