Even Stars Die - 20. Chapter 20

The library in Johannesburg is part of her cultural heritage, it's a large building in the centre of the city situated in a park. It's quiet, sophisticated, with a graceful staircase and mezzanin levels, sepia.The rooms were large and the research chamber, situated downstairs, was quiet. Jean paged through the archives and came across very little of an accident happening in the Outeniqua Mountains on the 28th December, 2003. She checked the obituary pages for that day and the day after. She entered the words Alex Meyer, accident, death, outeniqua mountains. Nothing came up. She entered Alex Meyer in google and came up with several international profiles. She clicked through to page five and read the entries, and there, in blue, it stated, ALEX MEYER. South Africa. Died in a motor car...see more...she quickly clicked on the see more posts and in a few moments had the page up. A small notice in the Oudshoorn Daily Despatch stating that Alex Meyer and Gregory Phillips had died in a head on collision on the Outeniqua Pass, the occupants of the other vehicle, the Mansfields, a family of three, returning to Gauteng from the Cape, survived and are receiving medical attention. Mr. Mansfield has no comment at this time.

That's it.

Alex is dead? Impossible. Then who is this Alex, his fucking twin brother? She had hugged him and shook his hand and he was skin and bone, not protoplasm.

Her cell phone rang. 'Hey you find anything at the house?'

Patrick answered without greeting. 'Something very strange. I watched the house for an hour and just as I was about to leave, an old couple appeared on the landing at the top of the steps. They stayed a few moments then went back inside.'

'Could be his parents.'

'Hmmm. You may be right. I didn't think of that. So, no. I did not snoop inside the house.'

'Well, you'd better listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you.' She removed an A4 page from an envelope and read from it.

He shook his head. 'It can't be. What? Are you telling me Alex is...Alex is a...'

'Ghost.'

'Well, damned right. It's not the same Alex, Jean. You're shitting me, right?'

'Nope. No shit. It's Alex. He's dead, and the other man too.'

Patrick bit his lip. 'How do we prove this?'

'We have to first find out where Alex is and warn Keegs.'

'Oh, you have to be kidding me! Tell Keegs. Are you insane?'

'He has to know. He should be the first person to know. Patrick, I sometimes wonder where your moral values lie.'

'I don't have moral values. Dick values, yes. Moral, no.'

'I want you to dial his number.'

'Me! You found this out, girl, you have that great honour of telling him.'

'You know I can't.'

'Oh, right. The butch lady detective can't follow through. Nice one.'

She smiled. 'You know we had to do this, Pat. I mean, what the fuck are we dealing with here? A ghost, for crying out loud. A ghost.'

'Yup, and they can get up to some nasty tricks so let's just leave it at this. Come on, Jean.'

'You're scared.'

'Hell, yes.'

'Don't be. In my book the truth only hurts when you prick it with lies.'

'I am not going to make this call, girl. You started this, you finish it. That's it. Done. I am not going to lose a good friend because of your madness. I won't allow that.'

'I have an idea. Why don't I pay a visit to Mrs.Mansfield and later that couple in Alex's house?'

Patrick threw up his hands. 'No! Listen, Jean, leave this alone. It's all really too much to handle. If you need help find someone else, but I'm not going to bring down my friendship with Keegs. He's my best buddy. I won't help you destroy that. I don't care if Alex is a ghost, or a monkey or a dog. He treats Keegs right. He shows him real human emotion and that's what Keegs wants right now, so I'm stepping away from this.'

She waved a hand and laughed. 'Then buzz off. I'll do this on my own. Keegs will thank me for it one day. I'll speak to you soon.'

'Im sorry...really sorry, Jean.'

'Go!'

He replaced the receiver.

    * * *

Mrs. Mansfield sat opposite her as she read the contents of the report. She didn't so much as flinch.

'So the accident has come back to haunt us, has it?' She said calmly.

Jean glared at her through eyes that demanded truth. 'So this is true then?'

'Yes, Jean. It's true. Alex Meyer and one other died in that accident.'

She wasn't sobbing, but tears welled up and dropped down her cheeks as she spoke. 'It was raining. The wipers weren't working. We tried to find a place to stop. Mr. Mansfield had been...had been drinking...but he could handle a car in any circumstance. He's a good driver, Jean, he really is, to this day. He was reaching out to the back seat to find a bottle of Southern Comfort, maybe take a swig, carry on driving. Lord knows why i didn't do it for him. Lord knows. It happened so fast. There was the sound of metal, there was this lurch in my stomach, there was my brain telling me we're all going to die as we were flung out of the car. Alex Meyer and his friend didn't stand a chance, they both died instantly with internal injuries, but Alex was the worst, he was decapitated.'

'You've never told Keegan, have you?'

'We've kept it a secret. All these years and I'm the happiest person now that's all out. The happiest person. These are tears of joy.'

But her eyes told a different story, staring, with that blank, uncaring gaze at nothing. Her speech drawn and slurred as though she'd had too much to drink.

She had not touched a cigarette.

    * * *

The gate to the house was ajar. Strange, for that would break the electric current running the fence. Jean thought about it for only a glancing second before negotiating the steps to the upper landing entrance. She paused to look up at the strange layout, why on earth would people make their front entrance upstairs? Quirky. She had climbed the steps leading to the pyramid of ghiza; this was nothing compared. each step to her, now represented a step in her resolve to find out exactly who Alex was.

She had succeeded but she had no idea what to do with the information.

She rang the buzzer.

Silence.

She rang the buzzer again.

Silence.

She rang once more...

Movement, the door opened slightly. Brown eyes peeked out from the crack.

'Can I help you?'

'Hi.' jean said, cheerfully, 'is Alex in?' her head bobbed up and down to see if she could notice any other movement inside. There was none.

The door opened wider and a grey haired man popped his head out. 'Alex?'

'Yes. I know he lives here,' Jean laughed for a moment, 'I was here with him just the other day.'

The door opened and the aroma of freshly made bread came from the kitchen. it didn't smell so homely the other day.

'My wife is breaking bread. I'm sure you'd love to try some when she's done. She's baked our bread all these years. All these years.'

'Smells lovely.' She smiled, taking in a deep gulp of the warm air.

'Please, sit down.' He gestured to a recliner. She smartly made her way across the room and took a seat.

'Something to drink? A refresher?'

'Water will be fine. Ice. Thank you.'

He turned away and headed for the kitchen.

'Alex. Alex is my son. He has been dead for eight years.'

'I was here the other day. I was with Alex and his friend, Keegs. It's simply not possible. Then I must be mistaken. Maybe this isn't the house. Maybe its another Alex and lives in another house on the same street?'

The man sighed, 'My wife and I have lived here since before the accident. Indeed, this is where Alex lived. He never left us, until that fateful day when he and his friend never came back to us. They went home. A head on collission with another car in the mountains somewhere, I forget now, and kaput! Two lights snuffed. Two beautiful individuals no more. And they were beautiful. Alex loved his friend, we could all see that and i guess they were going away to spark up that romance of theirs, I was hoping. But Alex didn't know that I knew. I never did get to tell him that it was okay with me. I didn't care whom he loved as long as it was real love like with his mother and me. A real love, not one night stands and rent numbers and money grabbers. I could have told him all that. He would've learned from me. And, what did I eventually teach him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing and that is the part that hurts so much. He wasn't around long enough.'

I sat silently for a moment. Nodded my head in agreement and finally said, 'Mr. Meyer, what is going on here?'

'Nothing that I know of. Have we met before?'

'No.'

'Then I don't know how it is that you've been inside this house and that you've met Alex here with another man. I do not have an explanation.'

'You haven't seen Alex since he died?'

'We have his picture on the wall in the living room to remind us of his presence. We stare at it all day. Want to see it?'

Jean stood up and nodded wildly,'Yes, please, that will be amazing.'

He led her into the lounge and it hit her like a ton of bricks. The black and white portrait picture of Alex was ten times larger than life. His smiling hazel brown eyes. The dark eyebrows that met in the middle, the sharp chin and thinly smeered stubble. He looked so at peace in this photo. She stepped back in awe. 'Gosh, it really is big.' She laughed.

'This is what reminds us of how dear his love was to us. It's not a shrine as so many people will be quick to argue, it's just our way of remembering him.'

'Awww, Mr. Meyer, that's such a lovely gesture for such a perfect guy.'

'He was a gentleman. He did not deserve to die like that.'

She rested her hands in his. 'Mr. Meyer, you have been so brave, both you and Mrs Meyer.'

'We have tried. Now, tell me more about you being in this house without my knowledge.'

'Well, Keegan Mansfield is a champion athlete and he got beaten up by some hooligans last week. Alex brought him here from the university infermary and nursed him back to health. I did a womanly thing, checked up on them. When I arrived here, Keegan was in the master bedroom, in a bed covered with white linen, and mirror-doors on the cupboards. The main bedroom has an outside deck with sliding doors.'

Mr. Meyer glared at her, hypnotised by her words. He beckoned her to follow him and they headed for the main bedroom. It was just as she said, white linen on the bed and cupboard doors made with mirrors and an outside deck for those hot, humid, lazy weekends.

Mr. Meyer appeared dismayed and shook his head. 'I really don't understand. I must be losing my mind. If you don't mind, will you please go. I don't intentionally chase you, understand, it's just that I need to think about this, on my own.'

Jean headed for the door, relieved that the old man had asked her to leave. 'Not at all, Mr. Meyer. It was loverly meeting you. I shall visit.'

He didn't reply and didn't wait for her to descend the steps, he shut thew door as soon as she was out.

Jean picked at the numbers on her cell phone and waited. keegs wasn't answering. She opunched in his number several times and came up with the unavailable message.

Then she texted him.