by Troy McCombs
sad. Cindy's half-knitted sweater remained draped over her empty chair. I missed catching whiffs of Janice's disgusting perfume. I longed for Eli's witty sense of humor and how he and Bill always argued.
I still had not met the woman in Room 32. She never left her room, or her bed, so everyone mentioned. Debbie claimed that Maryann was a witch. Dave told me she was the oldest person here, at 105 years old. Maybe old, but not nearly as old as yours truly.
I needed to save someone, and I needed to soon. Otherwise, a portion of my powers would waste away, with nothing to show for it. Yet, I still hadn't found the right person to pass myself on to.
That made me think again of Maryann. Who was she? Why didn't she interact with the others? Were any of the rumors about her true? Mark told me not to disturb her, that it'd be best to just leave her alone. I couldn't do that. My curiosity was brimming. And so, on May 17, I snuck out of my room during sleeping hours, and scuffed to Room 32, where I found her lying asleep upright in bed, her chest rising and falling in long, deep breaths. Maryann had the most wrinkly face of any old person—woman or man—I'd ever seen. She looked comfortable, though, perhaps immersed in a fantastic dream. I didn't want to disturb her from it, but I did.
“Maryann?”
She kept dreaming, oblivious to me.
I glanced down at her wrists. They were covered by wristbands, but I could see part of a fresh scab on one of them. Seeing this, prompted me to wake her up for sure.
Instead of calling out her name again, I grabbed her left hand and squeezed. Slowly, calmly, she opened her eyes—they were the most beautiful blues I'd ever seen, bright and clean and clear. They made all those wrinkles disappear. I could almost see into her soul, something I'd never been able to do... not even with my powers.
“Who are you, young man?”
I was young now. I'd reversed my elder disguise to make myself look thirty once more.
“My name is Vinny Barlamou. I'm one of the last of my kind on planet earth. Can I ask you something?”
She was enamored by me, I could tell.
“You're afraid of dying, aren't you?”
“Yes,” she nodded as tears filled those perfect eyes.
“Me too, Maryann. Me too. I don't understand, though. If you're so afraid of passing, why do you try to kill yourself? I see you've cut your wrists.”
She smiled a heartbreaking smile. “The waiting, Vinny, the waiting. I can't take it, knowing I could die at any moment, any time. I don't want to worry no more. I just want to be free.”
I broke down. We both held each other's hands and cried. Something inside me began to change, and change quickly. Death... I was so sick of it haunting me and taking everyone away from me over the many years I'd walked the earth. Maybe if I fed it my power, I could give life, not only to Maryann, but to everyone else in Belford Hospice, as well.
“You're probably not going to believe what I'm going to tell you, but it's true. I'm a vampire, Maryann, I'm an immortal. I can never die in the ways humans can. Stakes through the heart, holy water, garlic—all tales made up by superstitious men in old times. We do drink blood, as it gives us fuel, but most of us don't kill or terrorize. I've been alive since the thirteenth century. I have the ability to give life, if I choose. I can make mortals immortal every so often, but only one at a time. I've chosen you. I want you to live forever. You'll never have to worry again. Would you like that?”
She nodded, nodded wholeheartedly.
“The only rules are such: you can't tell anyone you're a vampire or an immortal. And two, you can only save one person every decade. You'll know when it's time, but choose wisely. With power comes great responsibility. It should not get into the wrong hands.”
“Do you have to....”
“Bite you? Yes, if I was just rescuing you, but I'm doing more than that.”
“What? What else are you doing?”
“By morning, you'll see. Everything will be better for you, for all of you. You will always be healthy, given you control your power. You can change your appearance to be younger, older, whatever you decide. There will be no more pain in the morning, Maryann.”
“Promise?”
I kissed her on the forehead. “Get some sleep, my new friend. Goodbye.”
She closed her eyes. Her breaths became long and deep again.
That night, I struggled. I struggled to increase my power, to hone it like I had never honed it before. I would destroy myself in the process, but that was finally okay. For once, it was okay. I no longer needed to be the oldest living thing in the world. I wasn't even sure if what I was going to do would work... but I would make sure I gave it my all.
In the middle of the night, I did my best... then I knew nothing.
“I'm goin' crazy! I'm goin' crazy! I've lost all my marbles!” Bill cried, running from his room. It was morning, and he couldn't believe what he just saw in his mirror. “I'm twelve again! I look like a goshdarn kid! Help!”
When he ran into the rec room, he received the shock of his new eternal life. All of his peers looked as young as he did: bright, healthy, and mostly importantly, happy. Everybody was playing; nobody had any wrinkles or arthritis or pains or dementia. Debbie looked like a young, bona fide slut; Sam chased after Brenda, and Maryann sat in the wheelchair, laughing hysterically.
“What's going on?” Bill asked.
“Don't know, don't care, William! All I know is that it's a miracle!” Greg said. Only yesterday, he was old and fat; today, he was young and athletic.
“But how can this be?”
Nobody responded to his question; they were all too busy living life again. Mike and the other staff members, who were also kids again, jumped and hollered and wrestled and played. It was like a funhouse, void of reason and free from the mundane.
As they continued expelling energy they hadn't had for a long time—energy they'd wasted in worry and fear—only one person out of them all knew what had happened, what had taken place: Maryann. She spun in her wheelchair, laughing so hard she was crying. Nobody heard what she was saying under her breath. Nobody tried to listen. The three simple words that kept pouring from her mouth were: “Thank you, Vinny! Thank you!”
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