The Pace (28 page)

O
nce I realized there was a past deeper than what I could’ve dreamed, I began to want to know everything about it—the good, the bad, and the ugly—but I couldn’t remember anything. Thankfully, Wes was willing to fill me in on it without too much reserve.

For the other part of our history together, Wes actually chose to show me where we’d met. On a weekday afternoon, when I wasn’t working, Wes took me up north, and while he was driving, he gave me an overview of what his life had been like after his transformation.

It took Wes a long time to function after the loss of his mother and Amelia, but he was eventually mentally, and physically, stable enough to be transported. In 1920, Dr. Thomas brought him to America and raised him as his nephew. It was through Wes’ recovery that they discovered he was stronger, faster, his vision and hearing were unmatched, and most of all, the cold-blood had created a protective layer under his skin, so he was virtually impenetrable.

By 1921, Wes was getting restless, and Dr. Thomas purchased the Ford that still sits in his garage. Wes had never been freely able to roam the street before his transfusion, and that car was the beginning of him learning his limitless boundaries. When he got the car, he said he experienced exhilaration for the first time in his entire life. He lived without fear of getting hurt. He raced cars, he rode motorcycles, he did everything he could to test his limits and to distract himself from the fact that he was lonely.

It wasn’t until Dr. Thomas’ house was broken into, in 1940, that Wes went into hiding. Dr. Thomas’ house was ransacked, and the only thing the thieves stole were some of his journals dated prior to 1916—the only ones that documented his early cold-blood experiments and serums.

Dr. Thomas convinced Wes that remaining out of sight was the best thing to do. He told Wes that the world would change for the worse if people found out his experiment had been successful. That’s when they planned for Wes to disappear and emerge as Weston II.

At this point, we had arrived at an old road. It was a peculiar setup. It looked like a flattened runway, but it disappeared toward the edge of a huge drop-off. We got out of the car, and I looked around, quite confused.

“Does this look familiar?” he asked.

I gave the property a panoramic viewing and there was nothing. “No.”

“Come on, I want to show you something.” He took my hand as we walked along the rundown road until we couldn’t go any farther. I stopped a good fifteen feet before the drop-off.

“That’s far enough,” I said. I could see it was a
long
way down, and I didn’t need to go any farther. He took a few more steps toward the cliff and turned around.

“Do you see this cliff?”

I nodded. “What’s going on, Wes?”

“I planned to drive off of it.”

“You what?”

His voice was as calm as ever. “Yeah. After my uncle died, I secluded myself from the rest of the world. By 1963, I decided I’d rather die than live alone. I started coming out here to drag race with a bunch of college kids on the weekends.”

“Let me guess. You drove a black Mustang?”

“Very good,” he said, praising me. He smiled and then resumed his story. “We would start way back there.” He pointed over my shoulder. “And we would race this way. The loser would be whoever hit the brakes first.” He paused in reflection. “Anyway, on one of the nights, I just planned to keep on going.”

“Wes!” I said a little too loudly.

He closed the gap between us. “Sophie, relax. I didn’t do it, obviously.”

I was relieved, but I still didn’t like hearing his plan. “What made you stop?”

“I stopped because I saw you.” He took hold of my hand and started walking me back toward our car. “You see. I was in my car, right over there.” He pointed to where we had parked. “And the car I was racing against was right there.” He pointed to the empty space to the right of his car. “And the crowd was lined up on both sides coming all the way down to here.” Now, he pointed to where we were standing. “Anyway, when the flag was dropped, I accelerated without hesitation.
But, then
I looked out of the passenger window for just a second, and I saw you. You looked like an angel. It was pitch-black outside, and you had on a white sundress.” He was smiling at the memory. I followed his stare into the darkness, trying to envision what he was seeing.

“So what happened?” I asked, feeling anxious.

“Well, I slammed on the brakes and spun the car completely around. Then, I catapulted myself out of the car and walked over to you.”

“What did you do?”

“I called you Amelia.” He was chuckling now, and I missed the joke.

“And?” I prodded.

“And you had no idea what I was talking about. You looked at me like I was insane and said, ‘No, I’m Lenny.’” He laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well, then your boyfriend jumped in front of me and asked me if I wanted something.”

I jerked my head around. “My boyfriend?” He was getting a kick out of it. I didn’t believe him. “How do you know he was my boyfriend?”

“Because he told me that I was bothering his girlfriend, and he was referring to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then what?”

“Then I left.”

“That’s it?”

“Until the next time I saw you. I asked around and found out where I could find you. At the time, I wasn’t sure if seeing you was my imagination or not. I had to find you again to be sure.”

He led me back to the car and opened the passenger door for me. I took the cue that he was ready to go. We headed back to town, and he was driving at complete ease. I was glad to see him in such good spirits, but I was ridiculously curious about this boyfriend thing. I sat with a slight pout on my face.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, resting his hand on my leg.

“I don’t like the story about the boyfriend. I don’t get it.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, he wasn’t your boyfriend for long.” I looked over to see his melting smile. He was completely tickled with himself.

“I still don’t like it.” I pouted.

“Neither did I,” he admitted.

“So what did you do about it?”

He started reflecting again. “I followed you one evening to a carnival.”

“Interesting,” I observed.

He ignored the notation. “You were with a group of friends
and
your little boyfriend.”

He looked over to see my reaction. I glared back. “Get to the point.”

“So I followed you guys around. You were just as breathtaking as you always are.

“I watched you play a couple of games and of course, you didn’t win anything. Then again, you didn’t get to play much before your boyfriend lost patience with you. Either that or he was too cheap to let you continue. Regardless, I saw you were disappointed when you didn’t win anything, and I didn’t like it. Needless to say, your boyfriend was getting on my nerves.

“The final straw was when your friends wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. You were terrified. I could see it in your face and hear it in the rapid acceleration of your heart. You weren’t going to get on that ride. So, your friends
and
your boyfriend got on it without you.” He squeezed my leg and looked over at me. I could see his expression in the reflection of his lighted console. “I would never have gotten on a ride without you. I wouldn’t have left you standing there by yourself,” he added.

I blushed.

“So what next?” I was softening up to his chivalry.

“Well, I used the opportunity to talk to you. I walked up behind you and said, ‘Lenny, right?’ and you turned around biting your bottom lip, like you often do. ‘Yes?’ you replied. I was studying you intensely, and you plainly asked, ‘Can I help you?’ I snapped out of my reverie and asked you where you had gotten your name. I found it
strange
.”

I agreed. It was sort of an odd name, but I had thought about it since I first heard him say it, and I was starting to own up to it. “Well, where did it come from?” I asked, curious.

“You said it was short for Lenore.”

“As in Poe? Are you kidding me?” I asked.

He started laughing. “No, I swear. It’s ironic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think that’s funny. I think you’re making this up.”

“Sophie, I wouldn’t make this up. That was your name.”

I shook off the irony. “So what did you say?”

“Well, I told you I was glad there was no such thing as Nevermore.” He chuckled. “It made you smile, and that’s when I was certain I had to have you. Then, your boyfriend came back and was not happy to say the least. ‘Lenny, what is going on here?’ he demanded, rather rudely, I might add.

“You tried to assure him that we were just talking, but then he went to take you by the elbow and you stepped back from him. He obviously wasn’t used to not getting his way. He quickly became irritated. ‘Lenny, let’s go,’ he ordered.

“I was pleased to see that you didn’t appreciate his domineering personality. You just looked at me and then looked at him and said, ‘Andy, I’m going home with
him
.’ You pointed at me without even knowing my name. Andy looked completely insulted. ‘You’re joking, right?’ he asked you. ‘No, I’m not,’ you said, and then you walked toward me. Even your friends were in shock. He was furious. He grabbed your arm, quite hard, and yanked you back.”

“What did I do?” I asked, completely absorbed.

“You didn’t do anything. But
I
broke his hand, taking it off of you.”

“Wes!”

“Well, I wasn’t about to let him manhandle you like that. I had to do something.” He stopped, then added, “I didn’t mean to break it.” I could tell he wasn’t very sorry.

“You broke his hand, and I still went with you?”

“Yes, you were just as irrational then as you are now.”

I smacked his shoulder. He chuckled. “Actually, you said you would’ve walked home as tired as you were of him.”

I rested my head on the back of the seat and thought about the encounter. I felt exhilarated at the idea of Wes rescuing me from some jerk. “Were you jealous?” I asked.

“No.” He looked out the window and then quickly retracted his denial. “Yes.”

I smiled. “Good. That means you’re not perfect after all. You have at least one flaw.” I leaned over to kiss his cheek before he could protest. We drove for a little longer before I broke the silence with my all too familiar curiosity. “So how did I find out about you? You know, your secret.”

His demeanor changed a little then. “You only knew I was different. You never knew about our past.”

“Why not?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Well, I didn’t know how to tell you. Plus, I had no idea that it would repeat itself. You never questioned my past since the dates added up back then, and I
thought
we had been given another chance.”

I braced for what I knew he was thinking. I figured there was no need to prolong it. “Tell me how it happened. What happened to me?”

He pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in neutral. He turned toward me and assessed me seriously. I raised my eyebrows waiting for the news. “You died in a car accident on the way to my house.” He stared past me as he told me, so I shifted my head so that I was in his line of sight.

“That’s it?” I asked.

He was bewildered by my relief.

“That’s enough,” he answered.

“Wes,” I said calmly. “What you’re telling me is that I died once during the biggest flu epidemic in history and then in a fluke accident. That hardly qualifies as a guarantee that I won’t see twenty.” He didn’t seem relieved. The lines of his face were still hardened. I reached up and touched his face. “Wes, you’ve convinced yourself that I’m going to die based on things that can be prevented today. Those things don’t have to happen again.”

“Sophie, you can’t expect me to pretend that it can’t happen.” He leaned his cheek into the palm of my hand.

“I’m not asking you to pretend that it can’t happen. I’m just asking you not to be convinced that it will.” I studied his face closely, and I could still sense the tension. I leaned forward and kissed him softly. His reciprocation was harder than usual, almost conflicted. I pulled away. “You have to relax. Everything will be okay.”

He offered a small, unconvinced smile, and then he leaned in and kissed me gently on the cheek. “All right,” he whispered, before putting the car back in motion.

I didn’t take my eyes off of him the entire way back to town. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I could definitely tell he was deep in thought. I left him to ruminate without interruption while he drove.

Once we got back to my house, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. He met me in my room and I cornered him. “If something extraneous doesn’t kill me then your silence will.” He didn’t find that funny. I immediately realized it was a bad choice of words. “Okay, okay, sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just don’t like your silence.”

He finally yielded. “I’m sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“About the possibility of me being wrong.”

I smiled.

“Just
thinking
,” he clarified, before I could get too excited. “You could be right, but I’m not going to risk it. I’m going to do what I can to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

I was about to pull him toward my bed, so I could wrap myself up in his arms, when his cell phone rang. He looked at the number and his eyes narrowed.

“Hello?” he answered. “No, I’m not home. What’s going on?... Which one?... What did they take? I see. I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

“What is it?” I queried.

He tucked his phone in his pocket. “Another break-in. This time at one of my labs.”

“What did they take this time?”

“Some more cold-blood serum. A lot of it,” he added.

I sat on the bed trying to consider the meaning. He leaned down and kissed me on my forehead. “I have to go.”

I stood up. “Where?” I didn’t like the whole idea. I wanted him to stay with me.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. I promise. I need to check it out.”