“Shanna! Shanna!”
“Shanna’s beyond hearing you, Templeton. I never miss. Surprise, surprise, she actually managed to hit me.”
“You insane bastard, you’ll have to kill me now.”
Hawk laughed as he struggled to a sitting position. “That’s the plan. You will not die fast. I have enough bullets to kill you an inch at a time.”
Templeton held his breath. This was it, the moment to fight and stay alive. Sara suddenly seemed so close to him he could almost reach out and touch her. Before Shanna, hadn’t he longed to join Sara? Wasn’t he almost suicidal until Shanna smiled at him and kept him alive? He didn’t want to die now. He wanted to live. He wanted Shanna. He knew in his heart she could not be dead.
Hawk stood over him. “Do you have any last words?”
Templeton laughed. “Come and get me, you sonofabitch. Hand to hand combat. Throw your gun away. We’ll kill each other with our hands.”
“No dice, Templeton. I kill with a gun.”
Templeton saw movement behind Hawk. Shanna was alive.
“Have a good time in hell,” Hawk said.
Now!
Templeton’s right foot struck Hawk’s left kneecap a split second before the .38 Special bucked. Hawk cried out in agony, jerked sideways and fell. The bullet missed its intended target.
In an instant Templeton was up and on Hawk. “Here’s one for Shanna, you bastard. And here’s one for me.”
Templeton used his fists again and again until Hawk’s face was a bloody pulp. He was alive, more alive than he had been for years. He had stayed alive for Shanna. He had stayed alive for himself. He felt wonderful. There was a bullet hole in his right side, he was bleeding all over his shirt and jeans and still he felt great.
“Shanna!”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Hi, tough guy, I saw your championship fight. We made it, both of us.”
He crawled to Hawk’s weapon, fired it three times in the air hoping Luskovitch and his idiots would find them. Then everything went black, but not before he felt Shanna’s hand holding his.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two weeks later Templeton was in Eugene. He held a single Tropicana Rose as he walked through the cemetery. He stopped by a bronze plaque, sat down on the grass and smiled.
“Hello, Sara. I’m sorry about being late to see you. A lot has happened. I’ll tell you everything on my next visit. I miss you terribly. I…I had a chance to join you…But I found I have to go on. I have to finish out my life. I apologize for all the hard drinking. I’m going to stop that. You will always be in my heart, Sara. But…I, I…I…Sara…I’ve…I’ve found somebody else…Her name’s Shanna…She’s a lot like you…Real gutsy…Afraid of nothing…She takes no nonsense from anybody…She’s beautiful like you…And fiercely loyal like you…If you could have known each other…Shanna and you would have become life-long best friends…I’m certain of that…”
He kissed the rose, placed it on Sara’s name plaque then stood. “Good bye for now Sara…I will always love you…I will always come to visit you.”
As Templeton turned to walk away he sensed he was not alone. Somebody walked with him and whispered words. Or was it merely the wind?
“I approve, my darling Templeton.”
It was Sara’s voice.
* * * *
Shanna finished combing her hair and applying lipstick just as Templeton walked in. “Well, your appearance is its usual ravishing self.”
Shanna laughed. “Templeton, my love, come and sit with me on the davenport. Kiss me carefully, thanks to a healing bullet hole in my left shoulder.”
They sat, performed Shanna’s suggestion while tenderly holding each other.
“I heard you were released yesterday, Templeton. It’s been terrible without you. How’s your wound?”
“My ribs are taped. I’m not in much pain, unless I laugh.”
“I’m glad. I won’t be funny.”
Templeton cleared his throat. “I just came from Eugene. I visited Sara, told her I’ve found somebody else.”
“Oh. I hope she’s a nice person.”
Templeton nodded. “She is. But she’s not overly nice. She has a wicked way about her I find charming.”
“Do I know her?”
“I suspect you might. She’s your height, your gorgeous skin color, your sensuous scent. Her favorite perfume is Evening in Paris, which I hope to apply to her nude body. She has dark brown hair that matches her dark eyes. Around her neck is a tattooed necklace I find is so erotic I simply can’t keep from nibbling it. Now, my forever love, if you still don’t know who she is I will take you to the mirror on your dresser so you can see her.”
Their kiss was long, passionate, filled with complete love.
Templeton came up for air. “I was thinking perhaps you would like to spend some time at Cannon Beach with a certain lonely private detective who promises to shave and shower every day from now on.”
“Are you proposing to me?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. Yes, I am. Oh, Lord, that was a dreadfully bad job of asking you to marry me, wasn’t it?”
“Not bad for a guy with two left feet who happens to be slow as frozen molasses in January with a certain lady I know.”
“I believe I could be somewhat faster.”
“No. My wound is still quite tender.”
“Actually so are my ribs. Damn!”
“We’ll have to wait, Templeton, until…”
“Shanna, you never said you would marry me. Will you?
“I’m thinking, Templeton. I’m thinking.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Erika, Dr. Tyler has gone. You may come out now.”
Locked away in his private room, Hawk heard the summer wind murmuring through and around tall fir trees. Birds sang to him. He smelled the dampness of early morning rain. An eagle flew in a cloud free blue sky. Water bubbled and frothed in a nearby creek. The warm breeze disturbed his hair and brought with it the smell of perfume. He heard bare feet walking on a twig laden path. Turning he saw Erika.
“We’re together, Hawk.”
“Yes, we are, Erika.”
Hawk reached into his pocket and brought out the heart shaped piece of porcelain. He clinched it in his fist. “As long as I have your heart we can never be parted.”
“Dr. Tyler is a danger to us, Hawk.”
“He won’t be after his next visit.”
“I will never leave you, Hawk.”
“I never want you to leave me.”
“I love you, Hawk.”
“And I love you, Erika.”
Hawkins O’Brien smiled. Erika would always be with him.
About the Author
So what can Wayne Greenough say about Wayne Greenough that hasn’t already been said either famously or infamously?
Well, Erika is a strange story and Wayne doesn’t really know how he happened to write it. He can remember wondering what it would be like to be so insane you would think you were right and everybody else was wrong. You might see a psychiatrist. Could he really help you? Hawk sees one and isn’t helped.
Wayne’s characters take over his writing. He doesn’t really know how that happens. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t outline. In fact he can’t outline. He doesn’t begin to know how.
In the beginning, Hawk O’Brien in the Erika story was written as a confused young man seeing a psychiatrist. He was to be the hero of the story. Slowly as Wayne wrote the pages Hawk metamorphosed into an incurable badass due to the unfortunate circumstances around him and his love for Erika.
Wayne’s characters have bossed him around before. Once, a despicable bad ass in another story became a loveable hero. If Wayne keeps writing he knows his characters will arrange the story to their liking. Is he happy about that? Yes and no. It makes him wonder.