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In 1978, Harley lay on her deathbed. She was 96 years old. She had gotten very sick over the past few years. She was diagnosed with an incurable form of cancer. When the doctors first told her about it, her children wanted her to be treated immediately. But she saw no reason to do so. She'd lived a very long life and was happy with it. Besides, she was old and would die soon enough anyway. She’d decided against treatment.
She and Specs had gotten married about seventy-six years previous. Both Specs and Jack were still alive. Jack had come back to New York, after being asked by Specs, to see Harley one last time. Jack and his wife both came out to visit them. They hadn't seen each other in about fifty years. She was glad to see him.
"Jackey-boy, it's been a while," Harley said as Jack, Specs, and Lizzy, Jack's wife, walked in.
"Hey, Harley. Yeah, it's been too long. We shoulda come a long time ago," Jack greeted and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"I shoulda gone out ta Santa Fe and dragged ya back here kickin' and screamin'," Harley joked. Everyone in the room laughed.
"Ya remember Lizzy." Jack gestured to his wife.
Harley nodded. "Hi ya, Lizzy, haven't seen you much since you guys left for Santa Fe back in 1918. What're ya hoggin' Jack for out there, huh?" She laughed again, and then started coughing.
"Momma, ya should be more careful. You know laughing aggravates your illness," Harley's daughter said and ran to her mother's side.
"Ahh, leave me alone," Harley said as she swatted her daughter away. "Jack, ya never met our kids. That over there's our son, Max, and his wife, Iris," she said, gesturing to them. "And that's our daughter, Angel, and her kids, Kate and Mackenzie."
"Nice to meet you all," Jack and Lizzy both said.
"Likewise," Angel said. Max and Iris nodded. Kate and Mackenzie just stood there, typical teenagers.
"Okay, now that introductions are over and done with, Angel and Max, leave me with my friends. Go, uh, make some dinner or somethin’," Harley said, trying to shoo her children away.
"You'll be okay, Momma?" Angel asked.
"Yes I will, child, now leave me alone for goodness sake," Harley said feistily. Jack and Lizzy laughed at how feisty she still was.
Jack leaned over to Specs. "She been like this fer fifty years?" Jack whispered.
"Yup," Specs answered with a laugh.
"Hey, Love, I don't want ya cryin' when I'm gone. Ya hear? Promise me now," Harley said sternly.
"I promise, Love," Specs said as he looked at his ailing wife. His eyes were filled with his love for her. They had called each other “Love” ever since they'd gotten married, and for several months previous as well.
"Okay, enough with all this mushy stuff. Jack c'mere." She motioned for him to sit on the edge of her bed.
"All right," Jack said as he walked across the room. He sat where she had told him to.
"There's something I never told any of you guys. Not even Specs over there." Harley laughed, and started coughing again. Her cancer was quickening. Specs looked at her. They'd always been very open after they'd gotten married. He was confused again. "Anyway. Remember all those years ago, in 1900," Harley managed to get out, her voice became very raspy. She took a sip of water from a cup on her nightstand and continued. "Remember in Tibby's, Duke came in that day and told us all."
Jack and Specs certainly did remember that day. Specs remembered it as the day he and Harley had gotten together. Jack knew it as something entirely different.
"Well, I never told you, but... I did kill him," she said. It had become painful to speak now, so she paused between words..
Jack looked at her astonished. "What?! Ya lied to me!" Jack exclaimed, somewhat angrily.
"No, Jack, I just never gave you a straight answer," Harley said with a grin.
"How?" Specs asked, a tad bewildered.
"The way Jack thought, poison," Harley said as if it were completely obvious. It was to her, but not to anyone else.
"But ya kissed Specs ta prove it!" Jack said.
"Poison is only meant for one person, and after it's been used for that person..." she trailed off, implying that she'd obviously wiped it off before kissing Specs.
"Who're you talking about?" Lizzy asked. She hadn't met the newsies at that point in time, so she was completely oblivious to what they were talking about. The three of them ignored her.
"So you see, Jack," she coughed then continued softly. "I did kill Spot Conlon," she said, then she began laughing like she had when she had watched Spot die. Then she lay back down against her pillow and shut her eyes.
"She killed him. She lied to me. She killed him," Jack said as he looked at Specs and Lizzy. Jack couldn't believe it. "Harley." Jack turned back to her. She hadn't responded. "Harley. Harlequinn," Jack said as he shook her shoulders. She didn't wake up. Jack stopped when he realized what had just happened. "She's dead."
"Well, at least she died with a smile on her face," Specs commented and pointed to the grin on Harley's face.
Jack looked at Specs. "Specs, she was yer wife fer over seventy years. You shouldn't make jokes when you find out that she's dead," Jack said severely.
"She told me not to cry, so I figure she wanted me to be happy after she died," Specs said with a shrug.
Just then, Angel walked into the room. "Hey guys, dinner'll be ready in about twenty minutes," she said. Then she noticed Jack's sad face. "What's going on?"
"Your mother's dead, Angel, dear," Specs said as he put an arm around his daughter.
Angel looked at her mother lying in her bed. Then she looked back at her father. She looked at Jack and Lizzy. Then, finally, back at her mother. She shook her head and began crying. "But, she looks so happy," she managed between sobs.
"She died with a happy memory," Specs explained.
Jack looked at Specs again. How could Specs make jokes when his wife of seventy-six years had just died? Jack just didn't understand Specs anymore, not at all. He had changed so much since Jack had known him last.
A little while later, everyone left the room. They left one by one. Angel didn’t want to leave, but Max and Iris took her anyway. They had cried, too, but Angel was much closer to Harley than Max and Iris were. Soon, everyone was gone. Specs alone remained in the room.
"I know you want me to live on happily. There's just one thing I don't understand. Why DID you kill Spot?" Specs said to Harley, even though she was dead and probably wouldn’t answer him.
I had to use the poison, Specs heard in a whisper.
"What?" Specs said. She always had a sick sense of humor.
Because he killed Angel, and almost me. I had to pay him back for what he did ta me. Trust me, he deserved it for what he did ta a lot a girls. And I don't mean breakin' their hearts. Spot Conlon was a cynic and a bully, a child mobster. If I hadn't killed him, he would've killed me. Survival of the fittest, Specs, survival of the fittest. And I do want ya ta be happy. I love ya, Specs. I always will. Live an even longer life and visit me when it's your time, not before. I'll see you then, Love.
Specs heard the voice again. He knew it was Harley. Her body was dead, but her spirit was strong; stronger than anything he had ever known. He would live a long life and see her again, when he died. He promised himself that he would.
"I will. I promise," Specs said as he turned to leave the room. "Good-bye, Love," he said and flipped off the lights. He took one last look around the room; then he shut the door. "Good-bye." He had said good-bye to her for the last time ever.
THE END
© 1997 b1rd1e@aol.com
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