Half a Dozen Lives

Lindall Turner

The first question- who am I?

I am the first person who could have killed Jerry on that fateful night, according to the police.

The second question- why?

This is where the story begins. Jerry Lawrence was my best friend and I did not kill him.

It was the summer of 1997. Jerry was a real estate agent and me and my wife had just shifted to Stuggart. Being new to the place, it was really difficult for us to find a place we could call home or even people who spoke English. That is when I came across Jerry Lawrence who helped lost American souls like me in this German city.

Jerry was a kind man, a warm soul who had an amiable air around him. The first time I met Jerry, he shook my hands and told me that my worrying days on the German soil were over. I smiled back. He was the kind of man whose words carried weight. Even if he said something as trivial as I will call you later, you would find yourself looking at your cellphone every hour, waiting for his call. He was a short, muscular man with blonde hair and a small moustache. He had been in the real estate business since ten years and he seemed pretty young for a man aged thirty five.

I will find you a home in less than a week. He told me and my wife. I didn't believe him then because it had been a month surviving in hotels and we had tried every possible locality but in vain. But five days later, when he called me with the lease of our new home- I knew one thing for sure.

Jerry Lawrence was the man who you needed to do things in this city.

Jerry was not just a real estate agent but I will learn this the hard way, later on. For now let me tell you how me and Jerry became friends.

A month later when me and Rebecca(my wife) had settled in the new house, we organized a small party inviting our few new friends and the famous real estate man Jerry Lawrence. Apparently, everyone in the small city knew Jerry someway or the other. It was pretty unusual popularity for a real estate man.

He sat down with me talking about his booming business and things I rarely understood. He would tilt his head at times, and do his unusual laugh, whenever he used some term I didn't understand. He told me about all the women he slept with everyday with and how he was a real estate legend in this part of the city. He would tell all the stories with such enthusiasm that you hours would go by. I told him about myself and Rebecca and our marriage. We were indebted to him for what he had done for us. He waived my hand away, handing me his business card and asked me to call him anytime I needed help.

"Anytime you need help." He stressed on the words that told me that this man was not just a normal property salesman.

I will be needing his help pretty soon.

After the party we met many times and thus our friendship grew. It was the usual banter with him telling me about his exciting life and me listening, laughing and wondering more and more about who the man really was.

The more you knew Jerry, the less you knew about him.

It would take me four more months of knowing Jerry to finally understand the nature of his profession. In those four months two big changes will occur in my life.

1. Rebecca will leave me.

2. Jerry will become an inseparable part of me, like a malignant tumor.

The first month in Stuggart was the best month of my life. Rebecca enjoyed the new place and the people. We would travel to new places every day and she loved me more than anything. We both were happy with our jobs and our little house seemed like twinkling stars under the bright German sky. Rebecca's face lit up like a shining sea whenever we talked. She would tell me all about her day and I would do the same. I could never see that she left out parts of her day when she would meet Andy Shmeikl, her boss in his private cabin. My life was turning upside down and I had no idea about it.

The monotony of my life continued and I was happy with it.

Happiness is the prologue to a tragic novel.

It was the 15th of May when Rebecca walked out of our little home. It just happened, like the flash of a camera. Snap and gone. She didn't give any signs. She kissed me the previous night and heard all about my day. She even told me about hers. The next day, when the sun rose, my world went into darkness as I read the letter lying in place of Rebecca.

"Dear Lindall,

I am very sorry but I can no longer stay with you. I don't know any other way to say this but I loved you once and it was a beautiful phase of my life but I have fallen out of love and in it again.
I found someone in my office. I will spare you the pain by telling you more about our affair but you need to know that I loved you and all that we had was as real for me as it was for you. But people fall out of love and staying with you was wrong both for me and you.
I hope that you have a happy life. This is the last you will see of me. I am moving to another city.

Till next time.

Rebecca."

My whole world fell apart like a game of Jenga, tumbling till everything was rubble.

I picked up my phone and called the one man who had help for everything- my best friend Jerry Lawrence.