“What seems to be the matter?” he said. I showed him my fangs but he didn’t flinch, which made me wonder if he had met a vampire before.
“Your sermon is what is the matter,” I said. “It was a pile of shit. I don’t mean your delivery because you really sold the hell out of it.” I smiled at my own cleverness while showing my fangs in all their evil glory. “God allows the Devil to kill Job’s children and that is supposed to inspire faith? Job’s children are the sacrificial lambs of some bet between heaven and hell. It seems like a raw deal to me.”
He clasped his hands together in front of him in a gentle way that I was supposed to make me feel calm. It didn’t.
“I don’t know the fate of Job’s children once they died but I’m sure they were given special consideration for their sacrifice. And we don’t allow cursing in our church.”
If his voice had been patronizing in anyway I would have drained him on the spot, but he was controlled and stated his opinion like fact.
“Perhaps if you are going to preach about how your flock should remain faithful in the face of adversity, we should find an interesting way to test you.”
For the first time he showed genuine emotion. His face went pale. “I believe that in the course of one’s life, a person is tested many, many times.”
“Oh, we aren’t talking about other people. We are talking about you and I’m here now.”
“How long have you been like this, my son?”
“I’m not your son and what does it matter?” I said.
“I’m just curious. You came here for a reason. What is it? Are you here to take my life?”
“If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already. Does that scare you? Are you certain that you would go to heaven?”
“I only fear the pain that you would cause me and the hurt that my family would feel, not death. Death is the end. No more pain.”
“Then off to heaven you go?”
“I hope so but one never really knows, do they?”
“I guess not.” I said. Then I walked to the front of the church and looked at all the pews. I walked up the five steps and stood at the podium. I felt like I could be a pastor. I could then control my minions of vampires and slowly take over the world. “You must feel pretty special to be able to stand up here week after week and tell people what to think.”
“The Lord keeps me humble. It isn’t my words, it is the word of God.”
“Where is your God now?” I said. I grabbed him by his shoulders. I held him tight while talking to his neck in a whisper. “He can’t save you when you need him the most.”
His breath was shaky as he tried to calm himself. “No, you are wrong. God is always here.” Then he took a deep breath. “You aren’t welcome here anymore demon. Leave now.”
I shot out the front door like I had been fired out of a cannon, rolling into the street. I was lucky there weren’t any cars coming or I would’ve been hit. I couldn’t have been more shocked.
Part of me wanted to wait until he left and kill him, but I figured that I was still new being a vampire, and he knew a thing or two more about this than I did. I had already planned on coming back. Besides, he had to leave the church sometime.
CHapter 9
I decided to go to New York City because I needed to get away from DC. I had Andrew watch Diablo for the night and left. All of the changes that I had gone through in past few months were a significant weight and I thought a trip would help unload the burden. While I was driving up there I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for it. The hotel cut pretty deep into my bank account. I had decided beforehand that if I was going to go to NYC then I was going to stay in Times Square. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about feeding, because I took care of it before I left. My goal was to absorb the city with my vampire senses. If I wanted to save money, I would have stayed in Newark or somewhere else. I figured that I would take more security shifts for John when I got home to cover the costs.
My $375 (tax not included) room was smaller than the average American’s bedroom. I had planned on staying a few nights but I could only afford to stay one.
I had packed all black so that everything matches and black is the only color that blood doesn’t stain.
I rode the elevator from the 37th floor to the lobby. Long elevator rides have always made me queasy. There was motion going on around me but I wasn’t moving at all. The elevator doors opened to reveal a packed lobby. Families that were waiting to get checked in had taken all of the lounge chairs so I didn’t have a middle ground to relax in before I went out into the city. The set of glass automatic doors at the front of the hotel was constantly opening and closing, letting in the roar of the city and then muting it, over and over again.
Without another option I ventured out of the hotel into the madness. I was already rethinking the decision to come to NYC. DC was a quiet little town compared to Times Square. There were so many cabs lined up that the cars looked more like an enormous centipede than individual vehicles.
The light from the billboards was so bright it created shadows upon shadows. I couldn’t tell where one shadow ended and another began. It was as close to being in the sun as I would ever get. The light gave off a bit of warmth to people walking by. Subconsciously or not, they walked closer to the wall to be closer to the signs, like little consumer moths.
I was only a few blocks south on 7th Avenue from my hotel when my fangs came out. Fortunately, I’m sure that no one noticed because they were too busy looking around so I retracted them. I knew that it meant that there was a vamp in the vicinity but I wasn’t able to figure out who it was. There were at least 25,000 people on the street in a four-block radius.
There’s a sidewalk in the middle of the street that separates Broadway and 7th before they merge and that’s where I was standing when a young man who appeared to be a meth addict approached me. He smelled like Brie that had been in the sun for too long.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me.
“I’m a tourist, here to take a look around. That’s all.” I replied. While I was responding he walked a circle around me, checking me out. I didn’t move. His vampy essence radiated off of him.
“Allow me to be more clear. Are you here to hunt? Because you look young and I can tell by your posture that you haven’t been here before.” He said. He had stopped circling me and now he was standing really close to me. He moved like a snake. Anyone who was watching him would know that he was a predator. They may not know what kind of predator, but he was clearly dangerous. He might as well have been shaking a rattle like a snake.
“No. I’m not here to hunt. Just one night to visit.”
“You aren’t with anyone. Why are you here?”
“I needed to get away for a little bit, okay?” I said. He snake-iness and smell was getting on my nerves. I started to walk away.
He appeared in front of me and two guys started watching us that I hadn’t noticed before. One of the guys had a black leather coat on and a Yankees cap, while the other had long brown hair past his shoulders and faded jeans. He looked like Alice In Chains guitarist Jerry Cantrell.
“Get away from what? We don’t want trouble here. This is where we’ve lived for decades, this is our home.” The other two guys had flanked me.
“I’m trying to relax.”
“You decided to relax in one of the busiest places on earth?”
“Yeah. I guess. I clearly didn’t think this through.”
“No you didn’t.”
Then a cop came up.
“Is there a problem here guys? Are you harassing a tourist?” said the cop.
“No sir,” said the snaky leader.
“Good. Move along then,” he said.
They walked off without giving me another look. The cop looked at me.
“Sorry about that. Some New Yorkers think that they own the place. Not all of us are assholes, that’s just the rumor.”
“It’s cool,” I said. “I wasn’t scared o
r anything.”
“Yeah right,” he said looked amused at my obvious lie. “The next time you are here, don’t stare at the billboards so much. The locals never bother to look at them. When you look at them it lets all the scumbags in the area know that you are a mark.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I said.
“Have a good night.” Then he walked off.
I went back to the hotel. I didn’t want to run back into those guys again. I made up a story to the front desk that my room was too small and the sheets were too dirty. I threatened to start yelling about how there were bedbugs in my room and the manager looked around his packed lobby and promptly refunded my money. I got in my car and left. The sun was going to come out soon so I stayed at a chain hotel off of I-95 for the night. My plan had failed to distract me. My own kind didn’t want me. I felt alone more than ever.
I went back to the hospice. It had been a little while since my last visit. I figured it was okay to visit once or twice a month but anything more and I might have raised some suspicions. I found an unlocked window on the second floor and held onto the sill with one hand while slowly opening the window with the other. It was the same room that I had visited the first time but now there was a new patient. I let myself through the window and stood there for a moment watching the woman sleep.
“You’ve come for me,” she said. “It is about time. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You have?” I responded. I’m a little ashamed to admit that this old and dying woman startled me.
“Of course I have. Who else would I be expecting?” she said. “I’ve seen you here before. It’s okay. I’m not going to tell anyone. And who would believe an old lady like me anyway.”
She smiled softly at me. Her big brown eyes put me at ease. She was the every mom. All at once I knew that she could heal a skinned knee and not take any sass while cooking with two pots on the stove and a dish in the oven.
“Who would have thought Death was an average-looking white guy?” she said to herself.
“Average-looking? Ouch.” I said with a smile. “We come in all shapes and sizes and you just happen to be in my jurisdiction.”
I was making up my alibi as being Death on the fly. In the back of my mind I wondered if other people had seen me come and go.
“Well that’s fine with me. You seem pleasant enough.”
“You’ve noticed me before?” I said.
“Twice. And both times people died in the night. Will it hurt?”
“I don’t think so. But I haven’t ever experienced death myself so I can’t be sure.”
“Okay. I guess we will see then. Where are you from?”
I wasn’t used to someone else being in control of the conversation or even having people be awake. I could’ve taken her by force but that didn’t feel right. I had been lonely for a while.
“I’m from Alaska.” I said. I wasn’t sure why I told her that piece of the truth at the time but now I know that I didn’t want to keep lying to a woman that I was about to kill. To this day I don’t know why I held on to a sense of morality at that moment.
“That’s exciting. My Death is from Alaska. I’ve always wanted to visit Alaska. It looks so pretty. Wide open air and big, beautiful mountains.” She closed her eyes. ”I can see it now in my head.”
I was tempted to take her right then but she looked so pleasant that I didn’t.
“Have you travelled much?”
“No, not much. I’ve been to Virginia and Maryland but they don’t really count. I’ve lived in DC for 82 years. The same house for 57 of them. I lived through the ’68 riots and then the riot in 1991.”
“The riots must have been scary.”
“The ’68 riots were because Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed. It felt like the whole world was going to crack in half and swallow itself. People burned houses down and when the firefighters came to put the fires out, people threw rocks and bottles at them. We were burning down our own neighborhood and not letting people help us save ourselves. It was the darnedest thing that I have ever seen. My husband Mack sat on the porch with his shotgun in his lap through the whole thing. He tried to make me stay inside but I would come out and talk to him and our neighbor Melvin until they would shoo me back inside. Melvin had his little Saturday Night Special peashooter in his lap like it could scare anyone. A man that big with a gun that small looks silly.”
“How long did the riots last?”
“A few nights. People eventually ran out of alcohol and all stores in the neighborhood were closed, so people went back to work because rent was still due. Some people went to the same place that they were looting the day before. I don’t understand those boys. If you want to break something, then you should at least have enough sense to leave your own neighborhood.”
All of a sudden I didn’t want to drink off of this woman. She was full of DC history that I hadn’t heard before. She was so kind and thoughtful that I wanted to turn her so I could listen to her stories.
“You’ve lived through two sets of riots?” I said.
“Oh yes. The other one was in 1991. It was a little north of where I lived in Mount Pleasant. It sure wasn’t pleasant during that time. Ha. That’s a joke.” Then she smiled in a big, broad way that made the world feel like a better place to live in. “A woman cop, if I remember correctly, shot a Mexican during some celebration. People were burning police cars and buses. They said that the police were mistreating the Mexicans in DC, but they were DC police; they mistreated everyone who wasn’t rich and white. If you were poor and white, they would rough you up as well as they would a black man or a Mexican. They were equal opportunity with their nightsticks if you were poor. Instead of taking you in for jail time, they used to beat people up and tell them if they ever did it again that they would beat them up worse. That usually worked.”
Out of habit, I looked at my watch. I still had an hour before I would need to leave. The lady smiled at me.
“I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time. No one wants to listen to an old lady ramble on and on.”
“No, no, go on. Please,” I said, “I don’t get to talk to people very often. Tell me about your husband.”
She looked sad on my behalf.
“Mack? He died a couple years back from a heart attack. We were married for 50 years on the button. Some times I think that he held out from dying so we could make it to our 50-year anniversary. He had a couple of strokes before the heart attack and I think he wanted to have one last party with our family.”
While she was talked, she looked out the window like I wasn’t even there. She was a woman who realized that her turn on the merry-go-round of life was about over.
“Do you have kids?” I kept asking her questions so she wouldn’t turn the subject back to me.
“We had three children, Alton, Charles and James. Mack wanted to have a girl so he could have a Daddy’s Little Girl but it wasn’t in the cards. He blamed me and I blamed him, but it was all in fun. Alton is a professor at Howard University. He helps kids become social workers. Charles works construction and James, he died in a car crash when he was 17. I thought his death was going to kill me and it made a pretty good run at it. I’ve never got quite over James dying, but I suppose a parent never does. I kept on living my life. Every day it got a little easier. Do you have a family?”
I didn’t want to talk about myself but I also didn’t see the harm in it. She was going to die anyway.
“I had a family,” I said. “Not so much any more. There is a lot of time and space between us if you get my drift.”
“Do you come from a whole family of Deaths or is it just you?”
“Just me.”
“That must be very hard for you.”
“I’m okay with it. It was hard at first but like you said, every day it gets a little easier.”
“Not to be pushy, but are we going to start the death part soon, because I’m sleepy and I don’t want to miss it.”
I smiled at her, mak
ing sure that I didn’t show my fangs.
“Not today.” I said, “I think that we are going to have to wait until another day. Enjoy tomorrow’s sunshine.”
“So you will be back soon then?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Okay. But if you ever want to come back to talk, you are always welcome. I have to admit that it’s nice knowing that Death isn’t some scary boogeyman.”
I started to leave and then I turned around.
“You should probably make sure you’ve said goodbye to your family. Just because I didn’t do it doesn’t mean that another Death won’t be coming around.”
“I will. Thank you,” she said. “Goodnight.”
Then she rolled over away from me and closed her eyes. It didn’t take more than a minute until she was breathing heavily and having the small muscles spasms of the dreaming.
I climbed out the window, still hungry but feeling a little better about myself.
CHapter 10
Wandering the streets, I’d come to realize the frailty of human life. When I walked past people, they had no idea how close they were passing to death. It wasn’t some far-off metaphor that they wouldn’t have been able to understand. It was me, and it really wouldn’t take much to show them. Some times I wanted them to recognize my power but it was counter-intuitive to keeping my condition a secret.
Before I turned I spent most of my waking hours concerned about money. I never had much growing up so I thought that once I got older I would have a nice watch and drive a nice car like people on television. But now that I was responsible for taking people’s lives, I didn’t really care about having possessions any more. I only cared about my continued existence.
When I saw people blowing money on $100,000 cars it made me ashamed that I used to want one. I mean, to each his own, and if a person makes it then they have the right to spend it any way they want to, but they must know that it would be better spent elsewhere like on educating children or feeding those in need.
After Sunset Page 7