Authors: Linda Opdyke
"Don't let Big Bob split hairs, Jack. It was mainly for Matty."
Jack whirled to see Kelly Jo standing beneath the streetlamp, its light a halo around her in the mist and rain. She smiled at him, and like Robert, the rain fell around her but not on her. She looked exactly as she had the first time he saw her, only this time she had no wings. Overjoyed, he was about to go to her when Robert stopped him. "Not so fast, Jack."
Jack looked over at Charlie and Matty, both of whom were crying next to Kelly Jo. Charlie had gathered Matty into his arms to comfort him. "Is there some way I can help, something I can say to them…"
"They can no longer see you."
"Come again?"
"Your part in this is over, Jack. You…"
"Over? Don't you think it's hard enough for Matty to lose Kelly Jo? What will he think when his friend
Dean
disappears without a word?"
"There is no Dean."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Right. And I have a bridge for sale."
"Did you check the basement apartment, Jack? It's empty. Why do you think I put the key to her apartment in your hand? So that you didn't go downstairs." He sighed. "Charlie only met you once or twice, only as Kelly Jo's boyfriend, and he was consistently in what I can only describe as a drunken haze, at best. Matty will remember you fondly, but with the vague memories of a child that over the years eventually fade to oblivion. Your role as Dean was necessary to keep Kelly Jo on script to avoid another disaster. I placed you and a history of her knowing you into her mind."
Jack could only stare, dumbfounded. "What about that whole trip on foot, from where we…the creek…the contest… the
dog
." He couldn't resist a side glance to Kelly Jo and a chuckle, just to remind her how much he enjoyed the
dog
episode of their trek to town.
"That all happened, and I congratulate both of you on your ingenuity, especially given the necessity of finding ways, not to mention
clothing
, to forward your journey and get yourselves into town. However, those involved on the earth's plane will remember the events differently."
"Oh? How differently?" Jack wanted to know.
"Wiley and his father will recall, with immense pride, Wiley's mother winning the contest. No one will remember either of you. I temporarily gifted to Kelly Jo the voice that enabled her to win, a gift that was noticeably retracted by the time you reached home and she sang to Matty. That gift has been transferred to Wiley's mother." He cleared his throat. "It took some doing but I wiped clean the memory of Kelly Jo on stage from Wiley's mind."
Jack snorted in derision, remembering how infatuated the young teen had been with Kelly Jo. Even funnier was the jaw dropping difference between Kelly Jo's voice in the auditorium and her singing voice at home.
Robert lifted his eyebrows to Kelly Jo. "I've smoothed over your pilfering those clothing articles from the dead biker they called Rattler. His belongings were returned to his fellow gang members, no worse for the wear."
"So you both used me!" Jack was not pleased.
"Not I," Robert said mildly.
Jack whirled toward Kelly Jo. "How could you?
Kelly Jo sighed. "I had no choice, I told you it was my last chance to undo something critical. What if I say I'm sorry?"
"I seriously doubt that you are," Jack said, his anger visible.
Kelly Jo walked to him looking very contrite. "Saying I'm sorry is pretty much all I have, Jack. Please?"
"Uh uh," he informed her, then turned to Robert. "I want my life back. I helped her go back to undo that event and she succeeded. Pay up."
"No can do," Robert said calmly.
Jack blinked, his look to Robert full of questions. "You're joking."
"Afraid not. You'll remember that I warned you against helping her. I made it very clear that, whether you succeeded or not, disobedience meant your fate would be the same as hers." He tilted his head at Jack. "Do you remember, when I called you outside, that I asked you if you made this choice of your own free will, knowing the consequences?"
When Jack made no move to disagree, Robert continued. "Kelly Jo will be where you first saw her. Forever. Alone. Your eternal spot is similar in landscape and isolation."
Jack scowled at Kelly Jo, his mind racing for an argument against what Robert had pronounced. What could he possibly say to sway the big angel's decision?
Kelly Jo leaned into Jack and kissed his cheek.
"You're right, of course, Robert, and Jack and I definitely deserve a severe penalty, but…" she offered Robert the disarming smile that Jack had to come know all too well. Kelly Jo's smile sweetened as she took Robert's arm. "Could we talk for just a minute, in private?"
"No," he said flatly. "Whatever you're up to, it won't work."
"You think I'm up to something? You hurt my feelings," she pouted softly. "Just a word? Privately? Is just a few seconds of your time too much to ask when I'm about to be chastised for all eternity?"
Jack saw Robert's reluctance but knew curiosity would eventually overrule reluctance. It did. As they walked off, Kelly Jo began chatting with Robert but before Jack could figure out what Kelly Jo was up to, she turned and winked at him.
Firmly in her hands, behind her back, she held the black leather biker cap that Robert had grown so fond of wearing when he thought no one knew. Where she'd gotten it, Jack could only imagine, but his guess was that it involved wheedling some poor soul into revealing where Robert kept it stashed. That leather cap was the central piece of the full biker garb that Jack knew beyond doubt that the stoic, very correct Robert wouldn't want anybody else aware that he loved to strut around in during his 'down time' and at every biker rally that he now attended as
Big Bob
.
And he knew Kelly Jo was using every ounce of her charm to drive that point home.
Epilogue
To Jack's relief, the miles he needed to be on the steep incline of a two lane highway looked fairly clear of traffic. It might be normal or even chic for an artist to be late getting on stage, but it just wasn't Jack's style. His road manager had warned him that even though he'd be doing four concerts it was a bad idea to rent a car instead of using a personal driver for the five days they'd be in this town. He didn't care, he missed driving, missed the wind in his hair as he relaxed with his thoughts. Having a driver at his beck and call also wasn't his style. He floored the white convertible's pedal, confident of his skill behind the wheel even on this pacific coast road, slowing with caution as he approached each bend, still sure of his ability to reach the concert venue on time. As he entered one curve, to his pleasant surprise the radio's commercial ended and the announcer introduced Jack's record. A thrill ran straight through Jack. He'd worked hard for years, at both pushing and promoting himself and his music, and this moment was one of the biggest, hard earned payoffs. Not only was he starting to live his lifelong dream, highlighted by being on his first concert tour, he was now about to hear himself singing on the radio for the first time.
He turned the radio's decibels up to
blast
and started singing, his hands lightly on the wheel as he rounded the up curve toward another short stretch of straight road.
As he exited the curve, to his horror a rusted blue 68 Mustang was stopped dead less than ten yards ahead, half-on and half-off the very narrow right shoulder. Worse, a box truck headed toward him in full speed in the opposite lane, making swerving into the left lane impossible. Startled back to reality, instinct kicked in and Jack slammed on the brakes, then remembered to pump them instead, fighting the wheel to keep the skidding convertible straight when it sheered toward the metal guardrail and a steep vertical drop.
Jack was sweating profusely when the convertible finally screeched and smoked to a stop, inches from the Mustang's rear bumper and the guardrail. The box truck was either unaware of or unconcerned by the drama, had kept going and was already out of sight.
A blur leaped from the Mustang's driver seat and sprinted toward the convertible.
Badly shaken by the close call that would have meant certain death, Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rest. "I'm...I'm fine," he assured the person in a weak, shaky voice, hoping he hadn't scared them too badly.
When no one answered him he opened his eyes to find a young woman jumping into his passenger seat and fastening her seat belt.
The blur that had raced toward him was pretty, mid twenties, with blonde hair pulled into a ponytail that hung below her shoulders. Dressed in denim cutoffs, a white tee and sandals, she tossed a small denim handbag to the floor. "Thank you for stopping to help me," she said cheerfully as she snapped the seat belt into place. "I've been sitting there for three hours but everyone else just whizzed on by."
Jack stared at her, then cleared his throat, his voice terse. "In case you didn't notice, because of your crackerjack park job I almost hit your car and the guardrail. My guess is that if I didn't see you in time we'd both be sailing somewhere in space about now."
She leaned back against the seat and raised an eyebrow. "Well that was dramatic."
Both his eyebrows went up.
"Excuse me?"
She laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry if your reaction time isn't what it should be, really I
am
, and I'm sure your driving skill will improve with experience. But right now I need you to put on your big boy pants and give me a lift to town."
His jaw dropped in shock and indignation. "What the...
who
..." he sputtered.
She turned to face him fully, the expression in those sky blue eyes the most innocent thing he'd ever seen. Her expression was so sweet and so contrite he had no trouble recognizing it as the phoniest
helpless
he'd ever seen.
Why did her smile tug his heart?
Despite himself, he shook his head in disbelief, gave her a small smile and extended his hand. "Jack."
When she took his hand hers felt small, soft and secure in his. "Kelly Jo."
*****
About the author
In addition to the upcoming
The Wayward Angels Trilogy
, Linda Opdyke is the author of three award winning novels, time travel
Southern Cross
, thriller
Stones Throw
and romantic suspense
Lake Braxton
. She's married to her childhood sweetheart and has two children, three grandchildren and one fabulous but spoiled rotten German Shepherd. They all currently call the Jersey Shore home. Visit her at http://lindaopdyke.com