Honey and Leonard (10 page)

"Don't worry," Crumbo called from twenty yards away. "You don't have to worry about us. We're on your side."

"See what I told you," Leonard said.

"We'll see who's on what side," Honey said.

Crumbo approached with outstretched arms, "Honey and Leonard, I am Jack Crumbo, from
The Chicago Tribune.
 It's so good to see you. Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Corbin Lacoste. He's covering your story for the Paris news. He helped me find you here."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lacoste," Leonard said. "And good to finally meet you in person, Mr. Crumbo. Honey has told me a lot about you."

"Jack Crumbo," Honey said, "how on earth did you find us here?"

"We saw you dancing on the ramparts," Crumbo said. "The disguises were a dead giveaway."

"But what made you come to Avignon?" Honey asked.

As Lacoste was telling them about the waiter in Dijon who called in the tip, a police radio on his hip came alive with official-sounding, French chatter. He stopped to listen.

"We'd better move to a more private location," he said. "The police have somehow been alerted to your presence in Avignon."

"How would they know that?" Leonard asked.

"Credit cards," Crumbo correctly deduced. "You must have used a credit card here."

"Oh, my stars," Honey said. "I did pay for the room with a credit card. But who would tell the French police about my credit card account?"

"Gretchen would call," Leonard said. "I know she's been tracking us. You must have used my card. She's got access to all my numbers."

"Oh, that might be true," Honey said. "I never know whose card I'm using."

"I know a place we can go," Lacoste said.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Honey asked.

"I'm the one with the police radio who didn't call the police," Lacoste said.

"Your attorney, Robert Nimmo, has a pretty good handle on your case, Honey," Crumbo said. "He's hired a forensic expert who says the arsenic in Leonard's blood is the result of him being a farmer all his life."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean a lifetime of working with pesticides is what caused him to have high levels of arsenic in his blood."

"So we can prove he wasn't poisoned?" Honey asked.

"That's right," Crumbo said.

Honey and Leonard hugged each other in relief. This was a huge moment for both of them. It's not everyday a possible murder charge against you is completely discredited and blown out of the water. Honey was absolutely uplifted by the news. She started jumping up and down to kiss Leonard on the cheek or the forehead or whatever part of his face she could reach.

"So, shame on anyone who ever thought I might be a bad person," she said once she had regained her breath from her victory dance. "My attorney said he would make them print this in the paper even bigger than the first headlines."

"Don't worry, Honey," Lacoste said. "This will soon be worldwide news. You two are the hottest story on the planet. You are so big, I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to you in person."

Crumbo gave Lacoste a flat hand gesture for him to back off the starstruck, hero worship. The younger reporter immediately stiffened to what he hoped was a more professional demeanor.

"Unfortunately," Crumbo said, "the arsenic news doesn't change the fact that there's still a warrant out for your arrest. They filed the felony charge a week ago in Indiana for violating the no-contact order."

"I thought the no-contact order would go away with the poisoning charge," Honey said.

"The order was issued before you left Indiana," Crumbo explained. "That means you still violated the law even if no criminal charges were ever filed.'

"What about me?" Leonard asked.

"They've got nothing on you. You're just an alleged kidnap victim. You haven't violated any court order. You can go home anytime you want," Crumbo said.

"What about Honey?"

"Well, that's going to be a major problem. Once the French police take her into custody, it might take a while to get her back to Indiana. And once she's back, it might be quite a while until her case comes up for hearing. She won't get a bond because she fled the jurisdiction. And she did violate the no-contact order."

"What about me?" Leonard asked. "Didn't I violate the no-contact order?"

"No. The order is only against her seeing you. It says nothing about you seeing her."

"Then I guess we're right back where we started," Leonard said.

"Where's that?" Crumbo asked.

"On the run," Leonard said.

"Can I quote you on that?" Crumbo asked.

"Absolutely," Honey and Leonard said in unison.

Crumbo and Lacoste did an extensive interview with Honey and Leonard. The reporters explored everything from the older couple's personal histories to how they ended up on the run and all the way to Avignon.

"What made you decide to leave Indiana and head for France?" Lacoste asked.

"It was the nursing home more than anything," Leonard said. "After the big poisoning scare, they had me all doped up, and I couldn't see Honey at all, not even for a visit. So, I had to leave because I'm not ready to stop living. In fact, it feels like we're just getting started."

"That's right," Honey chimed in. "We're still in our seventies, for heaven's sake. You can tell the world to stop making such a fuss about us. We're not ambassadors of love or Bonnie and Clyde or Romeo and Juliet. We're just Honey and Leonard and we're in love and we'd like to be left alone if you please."

"I can understand that," Lacoste said, "but what I wonder is why did you come to France?"

"Number one," Leonard answered, "we always wanted to come here. But number two, we figured the French people would understand better than anyone why our love is so important."

"And why is your love so important?" Crumbo asked.

"Because we're what most people call old, but our love makes us young again."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Honey added.

Crumbo and Lacoste couldn't believe the story they were getting. At the end of a two-hour interview, Crumbo asked, "I guess the only question left is how will we stay in touch?"

"Give me a number at your newspaper," Leonard said to Lacoste. "We'll check in from time to time."

"So where is your car and your bags?" Lacoste asked. "We've got to retrieve them quickly."

They had retrieved the car from the hotel valet, packed up their things and checked out of the hotel so they could explore Avignon on their way out of town. Leonard kept reminding Honey of the need to keep moving.

"Everything's already in the car," Honey said. "It's only a few blocks from the church."

"Wait a minute," Lacoste said. "There's one more thing I have to ask. My readers will want to know."

"What is it?" Honey said.

Lacoste shuffled his feet and was obviously embarrassed by what he was about to ask.

"He wants to know about our sex life," Leonard said.

"That is exactly right," Lacoste said with a sigh of relief.

Crumbo held up his hand to intervene in the name of privacy but thought better of it. He cast a knowing glance at Lacoste as if to say, "Good question."

"I'll handle this one," Honey said. "The short answer is 'yes,' we still have sex. We get naked and everything. Here's the news flash for your readers; sex is still fun, even into your later seventies. But sex is no longer the main deal. Young people often confuse sex with love. The longer and more complete answer to your question is that love is more a spiritual union than a physical one. Love isn't about two people trying to satisfy each other's sexual needs. Love is when two people stop being selfish and start to care more about the whole of the relationship more than the parts that make it up."

"That is beautiful," Lacoste said. "So what you're saying is . . ."

"Love is greater than the sum of its parts," Honey concluded.

"Can I quote you on that?" Crumbo joked.

"You'd better," Leonard said.

Most importantly, the story broke the fact that Leonard had not been poisoned in the first place and that the high levels of arsenic in his blood were caused by his years as a farmer working with pesticides.

Unfortunately, the police did not believe everything they read in the papers and saw on the news. By noon the next day, Lacoste had French police in his hotel room in Avignon, threatening to throw him in prison for obstruction of justice and not revealing Honey and Leonard's location. Lacoste said exactly what any reporter should say when threatened by the government.

Nothing.

Leonard was gone.

The clock on the nightstand said 7:30 a.m.. She checked the bathroom. No Leonard. She dressed hurriedly and checked the hallway all the way down to the small lobby. No Leonard.

"Excuse me," she asked the desk clerk. "Have you seen a man in his seventies walk out the door this morning?"

"Yes, I saw this man leaving," the clerk said.

"What was he wearing?"

"He was wearing a jacket, and how you say, no hat."

"Did he have shoes on?"

"Oui, madame."

Honey charged out into the streets and found the place they had parked the car the night before. It wasn't the same car they had rented in Paris. The priest in Avignon had sold them a used, black, four-door Peugeot from the Abbey. Honey had written a check for $3,000 on the spot.

"This is the perfect cover car," Leonard had said. "It always looks like it's in a funeral procession."

The priest had accepted the check as good and promised to return the Paris rental car in two weeks. He had also offered to give Honey and Leonard confession. Leonard politely declined the ritual, but they had accepted the priest's generous donation of a white, summer, nun's habit as a disguise for Honey and a priest's outfit, complete with brimmed hat, for Leonard. The French reporter, Lacoste, had convinced them they needed a disguise upgrade and an immediate change of vehicle. He had also convinced his friend, the priest, to part with what is considered sacred clothing by the Catholic church.

"Father, forgive me," the priest said as he handed over the garments. "I can make an exception since these garments would only be thrown away. The fact that they fit you perfectly is very nearly a sign from God. They are quite used but they will serve you well. I would not do this for anyone else. The two of you represent the love of our Savior as well as anyone I have ever known or even read about. Even so, I am breaking sacred rules here, so you must never tell anyone about the car or the clothes."

Memories of the priest and his reluctant generosity made Honey smile even as she was getting frantic in her search for Leonard. He was not at the car. Honey knew he couldn't have driven off because she had the only keys. That was small consolation. She was fighting off panic, worrying about Leonard's whereabouts. Here he was in the main trade port of the former French empire, surrounded by forts and churches and basilicas and seamen who looked like pirates, not to mention immigrant fisherman and dock workers who looked like gangsters.

She walked to the wide boulevard, La Canebiere, and headed for the Old Port. She knew the center of trade and tourism would attract Leonard. She began hurrying down the street and shouting his name until she realized she needed to calm herself. She could not panic. Leonard's life might well depend on her keeping a clear head.

She could not call the police, no matter what.

Marseilles was majestic in the Mediterranean morning. The natural harbor was lined with boats, both modern and traditional. Their blue and green and red reflections gleamed and danced on the water. Ancient stone buildings shined in the sun as they had for centuries. Any other time Honey would have marveled at the cosmopolitan and nautical sights. Not today; her mission was clear. She had to find Leonard. Several times she thought she saw him in the distance, only to be disappointed once she got close enough to realize it wasn't him.

Honey walked and walked and ended up on the south side of the Old Port at the fortified tower of the Abbey of St. Victor. She paid little attention to the abbey, one of the oldest sites of Christian worship. It was nearly ten a.m., and everywhere she went people seemed to be looking at her even more than at the historic harbor.

The more she couldn't find Leonard the more angry she became with him for leaving her alone in this dangerous seaport. She knew what could happen to a woman by herself near the docks of Marseilles.

Her biggest fear was for Leonard. She knew he could take care of himself in any kind of tough spot. He was big enough and still quite strong. She'd seen him handle an obnoxious drunk or two back in Indiana. But eventually, someone was going to recognize him and report him to the authorities. That would be the end of their honeymoon. And they weren't even married.

Suddenly, her mind took her in another direction.

Maybe he's back at the hotel. He might have found his way back by now. I should not be mad at him. He can't help wandering off.

The city was preparing for lunch by the time Honey made it back to the hotel.

"He is here," the clerk said. "I told him you are looking for him."

Honey raced up to the room and found Leonard relaxing on the bed with his back propped up by pillows. She was so relieved to see him that she threw herself on top of him. He gave her a big hug.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," Leonard said. "I thought you got mad and left me. Thank heavens the guy at the desk told me you were out looking for me."

"Where did you go?" Honey asked, starting to tear up in relief.

Leonard gave her that hopeless look he only used for his memory issues and said, "Honey, I don't know what to tell you. I don't remember leaving this morning or even getting dressed. I ended up wandering around the city. And then the strangest thing happened. My mother came to me and so did my daughter, Emma, the one who drowned fifty years ago. I swear they were both with me. We had the best time. It was like a reunion."

"What did your mother say?"

"She told me not to be afraid of what's happening to my mind. She told me not to be angry or sad about Emma dying so young. Emma said the same thing. She said she was fine. It broke my heart to see her. I actually held her in my arms. I felt her tears on my cheek. She called me 'daddy.' She sounded just like my mother. It was like they were both the same person. It was impossible because mother was gone before Emma was born. But it felt so real. And it felt so good."

"Oh, Leonard, it must have been wonderful."

"It was more than wonderful. But then the strangest thing happened."

"What?"

"Emma and my mother turned into the same person and that person started looking more and more like you, and then I remembered you weren't with me. I don't know what made me take a walk and I don't remember anything until I was talking with mother and Emma and then I began to worry about you."

"Did your mother say anything to Emma?"

"She kept saying how delightful it was for all of us to be together. It was wonderful. It was perfect. It made me realize that everyone you love is part of the same thing."

"What thing is that?"

"I don't know what to call it," Leonard said, squinting his eyes in concentration. "It's hard to put into words. But it kind of goes along with what my mother always says when she appears to me."

"What's that?"

"It's always something about how we're all one and we're all part of the same thing. She always reminds me to not be afraid. She says being afraid spoils everything."

"I'd have to say your mother is a very wise woman."

"You're so much like her it's scary."

"I wish I was more like her. The problem with me is I worry too much. That's the one way you and I are so very different. You never seem to worry, even when you should. That's probably why we're so good together. When I get worried, you calm me down. When you should be worried, I'm there to worry for you."

"You don't think I'm crazy for wandering around this foreign city and talking to people who aren't really there?"

"I don't think you're crazy. I know you're crazy. And I know I'm crazy about you and I'm so, so glad you came back to me. You have no idea how worried I was. I could see our fabulous trip coming to a terrible end. But tell me, how did you find your way back?" she asked.

"I had a card from the hotel in my pocket. I must have picked it up at the front desk. I gave the card to a taxi driver, and he took me right back here. I did recognize the place once I saw it again."

"How did you pay for the ride? I've got all our money."

"I got the guy to talk to the hotel clerk. The clerk told him about you and said to come back at noon to be paid. The driver wasn't too happy, but he said he'd be back for sure. What time is it?"

"It's time for us to come up with a plan so nothing like this ever happens again. I've been worried sick about you. This old port city is no place to be lost and alone."

"I wasn't afraid," Leonard said, "and I wasn't alone."

"I'm not talking about you," Honey said. "I'm talking about me. I thought I'd lost you for good. And it sounds like I might have lost you if it hadn't been for that lucky card you found in your jacket."

"Actually, I found it in my pants pocket."

"Oh, so now you're Mr. Smarty Pants," she laughed in relief before sobering quickly. "Leonard, I'm talking about not letting this happen again. You have moments when you totally forget where you are. That's dangerous. It's dangerous for you and terrifying for me. I can't go through what I went through this morning looking for you. I can't go through that ever again."

"I guess we'll just have to watch me a little more closely."

"I can't watch you when we're asleep," Honey's lips began to tremble as she was about to cry.

"Oh, come on now, pumpkin. Don't cry. What's that you always say about the power of love? We'll be fine."

Honey couldn't help but smile at that reference to her unbounded optimism. "I suppose I'll just have to tell the desk clerks to be on the lookout for a sneaky old man who might not know where he's going."

"There you go," Leonard laughed. "I'm okay with that."

Honey did not tell Leonard how close she'd come to calling the police. The thought of Leonard wandering around, lost in Marseilles, was more than she could bear. It might have taken all day. But she would eventually have called the police.

"So, let's go eat something," she said. "I'm famished. I didn't get breakfast. I think I'll get dressed up as a nun. Come on, let's see how you look in your priest outfit."

"I'm not wearing a disguise," Leonard said. "It was nice of that priest to try to help, but I'm not going to dress like him just to go have lunch."

"But what if the police find us? You know they'll be looking here by now."

"Nobody's going to catch us. We'll take the car and find a nice little seaside restaurant. The seafood around here has got to be fantastic."

She saw herself fifty-five years earlier, walking down the aisle as a bride in her family's church in Mobile, Alabama. Every step took her closer to marrying a man who would protect and provide for her. Every step a calculated move toward marrying a man she trusted and admired but did not really love.

She saw her entire marriage fly by. It had been fun at times but much more a business deal than a romance. By the time the doctor died, Honey had grown into an independent soul who could appreciate her newfound freedom. She had to be free before she could finally fall in love.

As Leonard was ordering grilled lobster for the two of them, Honey was reliving the early days of her marriage to the doctor, particularly the decade of trying to conceive a child. By the time the fertility doctor finally concluded she could not bear children, Honey had already decided not to adopt. She was too busy becoming the reigning queen of a small town's high society. The love of raising children would not be part of her makeup.

"What's up with you?" Leonard asked as dinner arrived at the table. "You feel a little far away."

"I am," Honey said. "But I'm beginning to realize something I should have known a long time ago."

Leonard waited for her to continue as he began trying to dismember the lobster into something he could actually put in his mouth.

"You're the first man I ever fell in love with."

Leonard kept working on the lobster.

"Leonard, did you hear me? I'm pouring my heart out to you here, and you're not even paying attention to me."

He put down the lobster and wiped his hands on the napkin, "I'm sorry, pumpkin. Did you say I'm the first man you ever loved?"

"Yes, I did. And thank you for listening."

Leonard realized he needed to step up his game. "Come here. Stand up and give me a big hug."

Their embrace morphed into a slight dip of a dance move, much to the delight of their fellow diners.

"It doesn't seem fair," Honey said as they sat back down. "Why did it take me this long to finally follow my heart instead of my brain?"

"I know what you mean. But, in fairness, we didn't meet each other until recently."

"Do you think we would have fallen in love and lived happily ever after if we'd met when we were sixteen?"

"Would you have gone for a farm boy?"

"Probably not. I was looking for Prince Charming to whisk me away in his golden carriage. I was waiting for Cupid to shoot me with his arrow. I was looking for love to come into me from the outside. It took meeting you, later in life, to realize that true love has to come from within."

"It's better to love than to be loved," Leonard said.

Honey looked at him with the deep gratitude of understanding and of being understood. "Exactly," she said. "A thousand people loving you won't do any good until you love at least one of them back."

Leonard laughed in agreement and then said, "Honey, if we're doing true confessions, there's something I've got to tell you."

"What?"

"You're my first girl I was ever truly in love with."

Honey took his work-gnarled, lobster-smeared hands into hers and said, "Oh, my dear Leonard. You are so sweet. I do love you so. You make me feel like I always wanted to feel. This is our time. Nobody can take it away from us."