========================================================================= Date: Thu, 18 Apr 1996 22:11:10 -0400 Reply-To: JJSWBT@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Wendy Tillis Subject: Isabel 13/13 Isabel By: Wendy Tillis jjswbt@aol.com Copyright April 1996 ============ Epilogue It was January. Duncan stood on the hillside and watched the funeral below. The police investigation into the Seattle Serial Beheader had come to a fruitless conclusion and the authorities had finally released the bodies for burial. Ray Allan had left instructions that he be buried next to his wife, who had died three years before. Duncan, Allan's girlfriend, and the minister had been the only ones at the service. Grey Buffalo's wife had claimed his body and taken it north to bury on tribal land. Sarah Lao's family had had her body cremated and were said to be taking it back to Hong Kong to bury. Today, Joe Dawson was being laid to rest. Duncan looked down the hill at the crowd gathered there. He could see Joe's sister and her daughter, Lisa. He recognized some of the employees from the bar and the old bookstore. There were Blues musicians from all along the West Coast. And there was a sizable crowd of nondescript men and women whom Duncan suspected all had tattoos. Some of these had spotted him and had nudged each other with much shaking of heads. If the Watchers didn't know the whole story of what had happened, they knew enough to be angry at Duncan. He had not been invited to the service and knew he would not be welcome. So he stood here and watched as best he could. He wondered where Isabel was. He hadn't seen her since the night of the Christmas Pageant. Even as he thought of her, he felt another Immortal. He looked away from the funeral and spotted her, standing across the hollow on the opposite hillside. She was standing next to a large white headstone in the shape of an angel - its wings outstretched. This was one of the few cemeteries left that allowed above ground headstones - which is what attracted Duncan to it. He hated those flat fields of graves, each marked only with a flat plate of brass. Driving by, one could forget one was in a cemetery. Duncan supposed that was the point. Duncan was surprised to see she wasn't in her habit today. She usually wore it for official occasions. He wondered what had been the repercussions of her tale of the affair they were supposedly having. While this wasn't the 12th century when such an admission might have proved fatal, it still could not have been pleasant. He also wondered how Sister Michael had been persuaded to cover for Isabel's whereabouts the night Joe was killed. He looked back at the funeral, it was almost over. People were consoling his family, the minister was walking away. Duncan turned back and saw that Isabel was gone. He couldn't feel her anymore either. Turning his back on the scene below, Duncan walked up over the low hill and found another fresh grave sitting waiting to receive its occupant. Duncan could see the road from here and the hearse coming this way. A black car followed it. Time to bury Richie. The grave site was half way up the hill under a spreading maple tree. Duncan thought Richie might like the view. There wasn't a headstone yet - but Duncan had ordered one. He had been tempted to commission a special work - a motorcycle perhaps. But in the end he had settled on a more traditional figure. Come Summer, when the ground settled, a marble Archangel, flaming sword held aloft, would stand guard at Richie's grave. The hearse pulled to a stop and the men began to unload the coffin. Mahogany with brass fittings, it weighed a ton. Father Matthew stepped out of the black car and walked to the grave side. Duncan came down to meet him. The priest wasn't happy with Duncan but he had agreed to bury Richie. The pallbearers maneuvered the heavy casket onto the trestle set across the grave and then moved off a respectful distance. A small backloader sat partially hidden by some shrubs. Duncan, who remembered when death meant being wrapped in a sheet and laid to rest in a unlined hole wondered at the modern need to disguise the mechanics of death and burial. Spread fake grass around the grave, hide the grave digging machinery. How foolish. It appeared that it was going to be just him and the priest. Richie's friends had called but all had begged off from the funeral. Angie had just gotten married and gotten a new job. Nikki had called from Danville to say that she might come, if her new boyfriend didn't object. Richie had lost touch with most of his old gang and Duncan had had a hard time even knowing who to notify. As Duncan waited for Father Matthew to set up, another car came down the road and parked near the hearse, From it exited Jamal, one of Richie's basketball playing friends, and the driver, a short round balding man Duncan didn't recognize. They hurried over to the grave. "Jamal. I'm glad you could come." " I didn't think I was going to make it. My car broke down. I just happened on Mr. Stubbs here - he used to live in the old neighborhood. He didn't even know Richie was dead. He gave me a ride." Duncan held out his hand to Mr. Stubbs who introduced himself. "Andrew Stubbs. I used to own a candy store , knew Richie as a boy. I was out of town last month, visiting the grandkids in Florida. I'm real sorry for your loss." "Mr. Stubbs. I recognize the name. Richie mentioned you many times. I'm sure he would be glad to know you came." Father Matthew looked ready and Duncan signaled him to begin. Duncan half listened to the service- one he could recite in his sleep- and instead thought about Richie. He had been a good kid. No - Duncan thought, a good man. And a good friend. It didn't seem right that he was dead. His immortality had bought him barely four extra years of life. Duncan tried to convince himself that those four years had been some of Richie's best and so it hadn't all been a waste but that was hard to swallow. Duncan let his mind wander back over the good times he and Richie had shared. After a while he was aware that Isabel had joined them. He looked up , finding her standing only a few feet away. Duncan motioned her closer and she came and stood at his side. Father Matthew was almost finished. Duncan heard the familiar "ashes to ashes , dust to dust" and brought his thoughts back to the present. The Father made one last sign of the Cross over the casket and it was done. Duncan stepped forward and shook the priest's hand. Father Matthew looked at Isabel but didn't speak to her. He , in fact, turned on his heels and left as fast as was decently possible. Jamal and Mr. Stubbs stayed a few minutes and left too. The grave diggers were watching - waiting for Duncan and Isabel to leave so that they could lower the body into the grave and fill it. Duncan hailed them. "You can go ahead. I want to watch awhile." "OK, Mister. Fine with us." One of the men moved to roll up the plastic grass while the other drove the backloader closer. "Duncan, how have you been? This must have been hard for you. Burying two friends in one day." " I'll survive, I suppose. I'm . . .I'm glad you came." "How could I not? I know how much Richie meant to you. I wish. . I wish it had turned out differently. I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better. I know there isn't." " No, there isn't. So, what have you been up to? How did the Church take the news of our 'affair'? I wanted to thank you, by the way, you didn't have to do that. I would have found a way out of that police mess without your ruining your good name." "Oh, it was nothing, Duncan. I couldn't let them charge you with those murders. How did they take it? Not too well. I quit. Father Matthew is quite put out with you - and me. He tried to talk me into staying, going for counseling. I think I finally convinced him that I wasn't leaving over you, that I had been thinking about it for a long time. I sent my papers into Rome last week but that is only a formality. I'm history." "So to speak." And he laughed. The first time he'd done that in two weeks. The grave diggers looked up. They were using the hydraulic lift to lower the casket. Duncan and Isabel walked over to the edge of the grave. The men pulled the heavy straps out from under the casket and stepped back for a moment. Duncan picked up a handful of dirt and slowly dropped it in onto the casket. "Good bye Richie. I'll be seeing you." "May I?" Isabel picked up some dirt too. "Of course." Isabel dropped her dirt into the grave with a simple "Vaya con Dios, Richie." "OK, you can finish up now." Duncan and Isabel walked back toward the road. Duncan's car was parked closer to Joe's grave site. Isabel's car was nowhere in sight. "How did you get here?" Duncan asked. "I hitched a ride with a musician from LA. Just waited at the church after Joe's service and asked if I could ride in his car. He probably wonders where I disappeared to once we got here." "Ah, I see. Good trick." "I wanted to ask - what happened to Methos? I would claim his body if no one else has. I wouldn't want him buried in some pauper's grave." " Someone did claim it. There was a woman, Alexa, a couple of years ago. They fell in love but she died. He buried her in Egypt. This woman's sister showed up with papers saying Methos and her sister had been married and she wanted to bury him with Alexa. So, he is being taken to Egypt. I wonder if that is anywhere near where he started out. That would be fitting." They stood for a few moments next to Duncan's car. It was getting colder and the wind had picked up. He was warm enough in his black cashmere overcoat but her legs were freezing in sheer hose. Duncan noticed her shivering. "Do you want a ride?" "I thought you'd never ask." They got on the car and Duncan started the engine. "There was something else I wanted to ask, Duncan. I have Etienne's ashes. I want to take them back to Navarre - to sprinkle them on his homeland. I found out his family still has land there. I thought. . . I thought you might like to come along." She waited silently while he thought about it. He still hadn't sorted out his feelings for her. If he had any feelings for her. And he wasn't sure what she was offering now. "If I went along, what would I be going *as*?" Isabel understood the question immediately. "Come along as a traveling companion. Someone to pass the days with. I'm booked on an ocean liner - The Phoenix. It's going to cruise the Mediterranean - North Africa, Italy, Greece, the French Riviera, before it heads up the coast of Portugal and Spain. It's going to take months. First class. I reserved you a suite too - just in case. No strings attached." Duncan thought about it as he drove back into town. A nice relaxing cruise. Get away from the gloomy Seattle winter. A traveling companion? He knew they had a lot to talk about. She was a good listener too. Didn't sound bad. And if something more developed with time? He let his mind drift back to that morning last month when they had woke up next to each other. "The Phoenix, eh?" "I thought it sounded appropriate." "First class? Outside berth?" "Of course." Just then the sun, which had stubbornly refused to shine all day, came out from behind the clouds. Duncan decided to take it as an omen. ======================= The end.