by Jeff Schanz
Her and her father, he reminded himself. His resolve strengthened a little.
“Thank you,” said Lia.
Brandt wasn’t confident in his conversational diplomacy with a supposedly friendly vampire, so he looked for something that could be a little bit of a distraction to allow him time to construct reasonable questions. He spotted the basket she had brought and leaned over to pick it up.
“Ok, then,” he said, trying a lighter tone. “I have more questions,” he slid the basket between his feet and examined it, “if you’re willing, of course. But I’d like to see what you brought me, if that’s ok.”
“By all means,” she said, her tone also lighter. “I – hope they will be useful.” She looked around subtly. “There is not much here,” she said, referring to the cave.
Surrounding them were several crates and piles of items that had been salvaged from the boat. Some of the items were useless and Brandt had pulled them out to confirm that final determination, and some items in other piles were deemed usable. Nothing in any pile looked new or in good shape.
Brandt pulled out all the vegetables from the basket and placed them on his sail bedding. They could be washed easily, so he wasn’t worried about sand. He made a point of smiling politely as he placed them down.
Lia, on the other hand, seemed to notice how paltry the sum of them was and she grimaced slightly. “My garden is very small and many things are not ripe yet. I keep it more for nostalgia and experiment than need.” She sighed and looked at the ground. “I don't need to eat normal food. But I can. And I still enjoy the taste. It's just…” She sighed again and slouched a little. “It's just that father eats nothing, and food is difficult to prepare with such limited resources, so I tend to do nothing.” She looked up and caught Brandt's gaze briefly, but he quickly focused his attention back on the basket. In a near quiet, almost apologetic voice she said, “I appreciate the meal you cooked for me. I enjoyed it very much.”
Brandt pulled out some eating utensils, a small bag of salt, and another of garlic. Don’t they hate garlic? He listened to Lia as he held them up. He was trying not to get too comfortable with the conversation yet, but her wistful voice needed a response. So he simply said, “You’re welcome.” He glanced at the things in his hand and added, “And thank you for these.”
Lia didn’t respond. She just watched him as he rummaged through the basket. He brought up some candles and a box of matches.
“Are your fangs always there? Why didn’t I see them before?” asked Brandt.
Lia thought for a moment, then decided to open her mouth like she was a prize horse to be inspected. She peeled her lips back and rotated her head side to side. There were no fangs. Just white perfect human teeth. She closed her mouth and gave a curt nod like something had been proven.
“They have a unique joint that retracts and pushes them in and out of a gap between teeth,” she said. “It also shifts the rest of my teeth back when they do. It’s actually quite…” She noticed Brandt recoiling from her description and she lowered her voice to a near whisper before finishing with, “…fascinating.” She lowered her head again. The ashamed monster.
Lia had gone from indignant and haughty back to shy and awkward. She had never been good at maintaining consistent emotions. Maybe that was a side effect of being a vampire, too.
Brandt said, “Ok, so if you weren’t trying to bite me – and I believe you, by the way.” He held out placating hands so she wouldn’t get the wrong impression. “But if you weren’t going to, then – why did they come out?”
Lia’s pale face drained to ashen. Her eyes met his and then tried to look away. Apparently, he had just asked the Moneyball question.
Her voice was meek but controlled, like she was remembering something she read or heard. “It's reactionary. It is difficult to control. Certain situations, emotions, feelings will initiate their extension.” She thought for a moment more. “It's an involuntary bodily reaction to stimulus. For example, when you see food, you salivate, and…” Lia cut herself off, mortified. Her answer had been the worst analogy possible. She quickly shook her head and tried a different example. “Uh, I mean, more like perhaps when a body is physically stimulated, like what happens to a man’s…” She was blankly staring at Brandt’s crotch. Suddenly aware, she quickly looked at the sand. “…When a man is aroused,” she said to the ground. She folded her hands and rubbed them like they were being washed. Apparently, she had noticed she had replaced the terrible analogy with a humiliating one.
“They come out when you’re sexually aroused?” blurted Brandt.
Lia didn’t respond intentionally, but her head hung a little lower. Her hands changed from washing to picking at her nails.
The conversation was heading in a delicate direction for both of them, so Brandt tried to change the subject. “So, what about your father?”
Lia quit fidgeting and looked up. Her emotional dial had just turned from meek to borderline defensive. “My father?”
“Does he – feed the same way you do?”
“Father is different than me. He is undead. But, yes, while he’s on this island, he obeys the rules. My rules.”
Several strange nuggets there. Undead? Not undead? Her rules? One question at a time.
“Your rules?”
She nodded. “I will allow no feeding on human blood on this island.”
“And he always obeys your rules?”
“Father can be difficult. But he loves me and does things to please me. It is the only reason he hasn't…” She looked up with an odd expression that Brandt couldn't identify. If he had to guess, she was not willing to talk any more on the subject. She seemed to either remember something or made a sudden unknown decision. In a distant voice, she said, “He loves me. He is all I have. And I am all he has.”
She began to get up from the crate. Something had changed and Brandt wasn’t sure what it was. It concerned him a little bit.
He asked, “What is it, Lia?”
For a brief moment, she looked distracted, then Lia turned sharply to him. Her expression went from distant to pained. Something was truly bothering her besides what was already between them. Something he said?
“Lia?” he repeated.
His voice hadn’t helped, rather made it worse. As soon as he spoke, she sucked in a quick gulp of air, trying to stifle a sob.
What did I say? Brandt shook his head hoping he hadn’t been the cause of her concern.
Lia stood up and pressed her dress flat down with her palms. Returning to the mechanical tone she had used earlier, she delivered what sounded like a rehearsed speech.
“My father and I consider you our guest on this island. As long as you remain here, we will help you in whatever way we can. And you shall have every courtesy we can afford. You are in no danger from us. On the contrary, we promise to protect you. Understand that you are welcome at our house anytime you like, for as long as you like. I shall keep your room ready for you should you decide to return. Where you go and what you do on this island is your own concern. I also understand that you will wish to return to your own home as soon as is feasible. You will need to make repairs to the boat, I would expect. You are welcome to use the resources of our woodworking shed anytime. It is not locked and is at your disposal.”
Woodworking shed? There was a building smaller than the barn and to one side of the barn. Perhaps that was it? He hadn’t yet been shown what the building was. Maybe you would’ve if you hadn’t run screaming from her.
Lia continued in her mechanical tone. “The only room in the house that is off-limits is the basement. That belongs to my father. Everything else is open to you.” She paused very briefly to meet his eyes for a moment. “That includes my library. There are instructional manuals that might be helpful to you in repairing your boat, and other manuals and books that may aid you in some other way. There is also a volume of incomparable knowledge about our affliction. It is an extensive encycloped
ia of everything to do with vampyrism. If you are interested, it will have the answers to anything you may want to know.” She did a subtle clearing of her throat. “I have written it based on many years of research and experience.”
She wrote a book? Actually, not surprising at all, now that I think about it.
She planned to say something else on that subject, but whatever it was got stuck and didn’t come out. She seemed to be newly at a loss for further speech. Clearing her throat, she finally said, “I’ve kept you from your rest too long. I’m sorry. I never intended to disturb you at all.”
“It’s ok,” said Brandt, surprised that he said it since it hadn’t been ok a few minutes ago. “I have a quick-twitch brain when I sleep. It hears things, very subtle things. Stays alert. I – uh, picked it up back in the Army. It was sorta necessary at one time, and I’ve had it ever since.”
Lia allowed a slight smile to crease her face, then doused it. “I’m sure it is a good story. Perhaps, one day when you trust me again, you could tell me?” Her tone was more sincere than the obligatory politeness she had before. She was truly hopeful for the response. How much value did a simple story have to her?
Brandt nodded slowly, cautiously. “Perhaps. Some stories are difficult for me to tell.”
“I understand.” She turned to walk away. “Again, my apologies for waking you. You shall only see me from this point on if you wish to. I will not bother you again.”
Brandt’s inner voice was nearly cursing at him in a jumble of indistinguishable words that all had something to do with being an asshole. It all added up to an overall feeling of guilt.
She’s not a monster. But maybe I am. She said as much when we started this conversation. And maybe she was right.
Lia paused near the rock where he had buried his other cooked fish. She sniffed for a moment then asked, “You cooked fish?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded absently. “It’s been a while since I tasted well-prepared fish.” She resumed her walk. She disappeared through the dark hole in the back of the cavern.
Brandt was alone with his guilt and jumbled thoughts. He sighed and tried to force the swirl of squirming emotions back into his strongbox, even though it would only be temporary until he went back to sleep. Whatever he was going to decide, he was going to have to face the decision soon.
Ignore Lia and her dad, fix the boat, leave ASAP, never think of them again. Or – accept them and deal with it. You can still repair the boat and leave eventually. Nothing is going to happen to you. He wanted to do the latter. He wanted to believe in the latter. But his survivor instincts told him that anything that he wasn’t sure about was dangerous. So the decision would come down to accepting risk, or not.
You accepted more risk when you deployed to Afghanistan.
Not helping.
Brandt dug back into the basket and pulled out the remaining items. A kitchen knife, a cooking pot, and a frying pan.
And a book. The 1940 first edition of “And Then There Were None.” Inside the cover was a loose slip of paper with a handwritten note in skilled cursive. The cursive was neat and elegant. It read:
“Dearest Brandt. I wish you to have this book as a gift to take back with you when you leave. My books are my soul and this is a small piece of it to remember me by. Please remember me fondly. Your Lia.”
Brandt carefully closed the book with the note still inside the cover. He blew a wet exhale through his lips.
CHAPTER 10
Brandt settled into his canvas sail bedding, but sleep was as fruitless a notion as hopping in the wrecked boat and sailing away. Neither his mind nor his soul was remotely relaxed at the moment. He thought, fidgeted, and wrestled with his conscience. He was guilty. And angry. Ashamed. Confused. If he was an engine, he'd be overheating. He got up and paced the little cavern's beach, then roamed over the rocks piled against the south wall. The harpoon he had found in the trawler was used as a walking stick for leverage on the uneven rocks. He went out to the pebble beach, in the open-air section of the cove, and stared out at the water. The moon was still bright, making the blue-ish green water appear to glow. If he wasn't so damned lost in burning questions he might have noticed how breathtaking the sight was. And might also have noticed something odd on the horizon. He registered neither. Instead, he picked up a smooth rock and flung it at the water, trying to skip it. The stone plunked into a small wave and disappeared.
He sighed and walked back through the mouth of the cave, not wanting to do or decide anything right then. All he wanted was to shrug this whole week off and go back and start his life over.
Go where? Home? He didn't even have an apartment anymore. Everything was sold, dismissed, or canceled that tied him to a place, on the expectation that he wasn't coming back alive. His brother was in Canada, so Brandt supposed he could head up there. But he had nothing to his name other than a few boxes of memorabilia in storage and a carry-on suitcase in a locker at LA's central bus station. He had fewer possessions now than when he was in the army. How the hell did my life come to this?
He was supposed to be dead (twice), but wasn’t (twice). Either God or Satan had insisted that he remain alive when everyone else was dead. When all he wanted to do was protect everyone, someone was protecting him instead. He objected to the unsolicited privilege, struggling with it once again. His death wish stunt, bent on redemption for the lives that were lost on his watch, didn’t work. It sank like the stone he had just thrown into the surf.
He was both hunting and being hunted by a drug cartel that had a global operation and associates in every city. He was on an island where no one should be able to live, with no current way to leave, and his neighbors were vampires. And they had saved him. Then promised to protect him from the gun-toting gangsters that he was trying to protect everyone from, including the vampires. He shook his head and nearly laughed aloud. Out of all that, the vampire part sounded the sanest. Unbelievable. If someone told him that was a summary of some movie, he’d say it sounded preposterous and he wouldn’t pay to watch anything that dumb.
The subdued waves lapped against the cavern rock he sat upon. His overheated brain needed to cool down, so he was trying to clear his mind. He wasn’t all that interested in resting. “Resting” had been the only thing he had done for about three or four days. Hell, he wasn’t even certain how long he’d been here. The first day was a complete blur, but he believed he had slept through a full day before he got out of bed. He wasn’t completely sure how many days it had been, but the sun went up and down in that window over his bed several times.
His bed? His room? He wasn't sure if it was crazier to go back to that house or to avoid it. Lia wouldn't hurt him. She promised that her father wouldn't either. And even though Brandt's survival instincts and assumptions about vampires from fictional mythology told him you never willingly went into a known vampire's residence, he had already been in that house for several days. And he had been comfortable, if just a bit hungry. They didn't have much food at the ready. They don’t eat food, because they’re…
Yeah, yeah. Shut up. He was getting on his own nerves. God knows how anyone else like family, or friends, or girlfriends put up with him. Well, girlfriends didn’t put up with him. His relationships had a pathetically common script: He looked good, she looked good, they had some sex, then blew apart. Meaningful human relationships were more plentiful in the Army, which was part of the reason why he went back for a second tour. But that tour would cost him more than a few years of his life. It would haunt him to his core. And that was the story he couldn’t tell Lia.
And yet, that's all she really wants, isn't it? A human voice to tell her stories. It’s the one thing her books can’t do.
Imagine if she had an iPad, or Smartphone, and could stream any audiobook, search any website for information, watch videos, see anything, hear anything, anywhere, at any time. Would such a thing be a life-altering, mind-shattering revelation to Lia? Despite the fact that s
he'd have no way to charge it, and no Wi-Fi to access anything, it might be an entertaining reveal. She'd say, “You mean this little device holds all the knowledge of the known universe?” He'd say, “Well, yeah, but we just use it to post selfies and watch porn.”
God help him if he finds a girl that can put up with his stupid-ass sense of inappropriate humor, he needs to marry her before she can open her mouth to say, “What was in that drink last night? And why is this ring on my finger?”
One was sitting right here a couple of hours ago, said the optimistic personality in his mind. His argumentative personality already had an un-witty retort planned that involved something about bloodsucking or a pain in the neck, which he shook it away. Brandt would have loved to just dim his comical musings, but unfortunately, they were also his coping mechanism for troubling things. Despite the absurdity of his sardonic wit in the face of serious issues, it had also helped him stay alive in the face of the most horrific and traumatizing event of his life. Even something as incredible and as unfathomable as talking with, and making out with, a vampire could not match what he had been through only six months ago.
Which begged the question again as to why he was so concerned with what Lia was. Or was not? What was anybody? He knew plenty of human beings that shouldn’t be allowed to be labeled a part of the human race. There were real monsters. And most of them didn’t have fangs or claws, just guns and knives, or money and power to make other beings, that also shouldn’t be classified as humans, carry out their will. “Men” who killed with no more reason to do it than someone paid them to. Maybe he was one of them.
Maybe he was a monster. He wasn’t even sure he deserved to be alive. He certainly wasn’t worthy of the gift Lia gave him, and he hadn’t earned her kindness or her patience. Why would he be so narcissistic to debate whether it would be all right for him to associate with Lia when it probably wasn’t all right for her to associate with him? It was possible he had killed more human beings than any monster, real or imagined. Had Lia ever killed anyone?