Honey and Leonard Read online

  Honey heard the shouting and turned around to see what the commotion was all about.

  "Keep driving, Leonard," she said. "It's that Jack Crumbo from The Chicago Tribune. How in the world did he track us down here?"

  “How do you know what Jack Crumbo looks like?” Leonard asked.

  “Why Leonard Atkins. You do sound a litrtle jealous.”

  “Not jealous, just curious,” Leonard said as he continued driving away.

  “Well, if you must know,” Honey said, “Mr. Crumbo did come to the house while you were still in the nursing home. Against my attorney’s orders, I let him in and we had quite the interview. You know that. You read the story.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Not only that,” Honey said. “His photo is now appearing with his articles. He’s on television too. He’s getting almost as popular as we are. And he doesn’t look happy to see us getting away."

  "Well, he hasn't tracked us down yet," Leonard said as he sped up and took a right down a blind alley.

  "Well this is no good," Honey said as they came to the dead end of the alley. "Back up, back up. We can't just sit here and wait for them to come find us. What kind of getaway driver are you?"

  "This is going to be one low-speed chase," Leonard said as he backed out of the alley and managed to get on the main drag, nearly nudging pedestrians with the rear end of the car.

  Crumbo and Lacoste were nowhere to be seen. They were stuck in traffic and trying in vain to change direction.

  "We've got to get out of town," Honey said. "This place is too small. They'll find us for sure."

  "No, no," Leonard said. "That's what they'll expect us to do. So we won't do that." He made a right turn, drove down the side street for about a block and pulled into a garage that said "Hotel Parking," in English.

  "We'll stay here for the night," he said as he pulled up to valet parking for what looked like a high-class hotel. "Come on, we'll let them hide the car for us and we'll get a room."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure I can't drive any more in this crazy little circle of a city."

  By this point, Honey and Leonard each had a small suitcase filled with clothing they had purchased along the way. Honey used a credit card to pay for the room. Until that point she'd been paying cash for everything but the rental car. The rental car people had insisted on payment by credit card in case the car was damaged during the rental.

  Honey wasn't paying cash in an effort to keep people off their trail. She and Leonard had no idea that people could track them by looking at their credit purchases.

  Seeing the Chicago Tribune reporter on their trail in Avignon unsettled them. "What will happen if he catches up to us?" she asked as they settled into their small but elegant room.

  Leonard thought about her question for a moment. He had just slipped in and out of a bout of forgetfulness, so he was trying to regain his focus. Honey could tell he was not quite with her, but at least he wasn't suffering from one of his spells. She repeated the question.

  "The first thing you've got to remember is this," Leonard finally said. "Jack Crumbo is not the police. In fact, I dare say he's on our side. He's in it for the story. Our story is probably the best thing that's ever happened to his career. He probably won't even give away our location. If he did, the story would be over and his scoop would be gone. No, I don't think we need to run from Crumbo. In fact, let's take a walk tomorrow and see the sights and see if we can find him."

  "But Leonard, it's not just Crumbo who's looking for us. Our picture is in all the French papers. It's probably on television too."

  Leonard considered her comment and said, "You're right. We need to buy some hats and sunglasses to disguise ourselves."

  "Buy some hats and sunglasses?" Honey laughed. "Is that the best you can do? I was thinking something a little more James Bond."

  "Like what?"

  "Like catch a submarine out of here and head for South America."

  "I doubt if the river is deep enough," Leonard said.

  "Then maybe a helicopter would do."

  Honey and Leonard hugged each other and fell onto the bed together. In that delicious moment, they were not afraid of getting caught. They weren't afraid of anything. The only thing they cared about was being together. As long as they were together, nothing bad could happen.

  The French police had other thoughts. The order to apprehend Honey and Leonard had finally been issued four days after their arrival in France. Politics finally trumped personality. The FBI and the U.S. embassy in Paris convinced French authorities that Honey and Leonard were criminal fugitives, not the latest Romeo and Juliet. Police were looking for the couple in Paris until Gretchen notified them of the Avignon hotel credit card purchase.

  * * *

  The next day, Honey bought a blonde wig and sunglasses at a costume shop. Leonard bought a hat, a fake beard and glasses. They had a good time dressing each other up in the mirrors. In the end, they still looked like an elderly couple, but an elderly couple wearing cheap disguises. They didn't care. They hardly recognized themselves. They hit the streets of Avignon like two kids, trick-or-treating on Halloween.

  Leonard had a glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape for lunch. Honey had to cut him off before he had a second glass because she knew the wine would drastically worsen his memory problems.

  The lack of a second glass of wine didn't stop him from feeling jubilant as he and Honey toured the ancient walls around the city. The old city turned out to be a lot more hospitable on foot than in a car. People were friendly, although they did stare a little at the disguises.

  Honey and Leonard strolled on paths atop the battlements. At one point, they heard the heavenly sounds of violin players rehearsing in a nearby university studio. This spurred Leonard to begin waltzing with Honey on the deck of a tower overlooking the Rhone River. They danced together well. Several tourists applauded. Leonard dipped Honey for a big finish and lifted her up for the two of them to take an exaggerated bow.

  "Leonard, you shouldn't attract so much attention," Honey said. "People can see us up here for miles."

  "Nonsense, blondie, it's you who's attracting all the attention. You're the one who's having more fun as a blond."

  They continued walking the ramparts along the river until they saw the Pont d'Avignon, the historic bridge that ends in the middle of the river.

  "Now that's something you don't see everyday," Leonard said. "A bridge that only goes halfway across the river. Look, you can walk on it. There are people walking right up to the edge. That looks like fun. Come on, let's go."

  Honey and Leonard went down to the bridge and walked it as far as they could. They looked down into the Rhone River, imagining a time when the bridge went all the way across. Back when mounted knights in suits of armor patrolled the premises.

  They turned around and looked back at the city of Avignon with its church spires and palace towers. As they were marveling at the magic of the fairytale city, they noticed Jack Crumbo and Corbin Lacoste walking toward them.

  "Oh, my dear goodness," Honey said.

  "They couldn't have caught us in a better spot," Leonard said. "There is literally nowhere to run."

  Honey clung to Leonard as if wild wolves were surrounding them.

  "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 rampart
s," 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.

  * * *

  The chapel of a nearby Catholic church turned out to be the perfect hideout. Lacoste was a good friend of the young priest in charge. It was also an ideal location for Crumbo to interview Honey and Leonard and to tell them the news from Indiana.

  "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.

  * * *

  Leonard's side of the story broke the next morning in Chicago and Paris. News outlets from all over the world picked it up immediately. Honey and Leonard were becoming folk heroes for being old and in love and for being fugitives from an unjust legal system. Crumbo's story portrayed Leonard as mentally competent and as being grateful for being given a second chance at love. He quoted Leonard as saying; "Honey shows me everyday what it means to be in love. It's about caring more
about the other person than yourself." He also quoted Leonard as saying, "If anyone's doing any kidnapping around here, it's me kidnapping her."

  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.

  Nine

  HONEY AWAKENED in an inexpensive hotel room in Marseilles to find her worst fear realized.

  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.