The reason I crossed the street when I did was that I’d seen a diner-style restaurant on the other side. I entered it just as the truck pulled up to the curb and two of the clan members spilled out of it. They must’ve been undecided whether to risk a public commotion, because none of them followed me into the restaurant, at least not right away. So I kept going, ignoring the protestations of a waitress as I continued into the kitchen. The cook yelled at me, but I kept going until I was out the back door, emerging in the alley where their dumpsters were kept. Diagonally across from where I was standing were more dumpsters, and the back door of what had to be another restaurant.
This door was unlocked, and I found myself in another restaurant’s kitchen. Someone yelled, ‘Hey, what the hell?’ I didn’t so much as glance in this person’s direction, but rushed through the kitchen and out into the main dining room. Two of the waitresses gave me funny looks, but before they could say anything I was out the front door.
Cutting through both restaurants and the alley left me one block away, and it didn’t look as if the clan members had any idea that that’s where I was. Maybe they were waiting outside the first restaurant for me to leave, or maybe they had eventually followed me in and decided I was hiding in the bathroom.
For now, I had lost them.
TWENTY-NINE
I was distracted later that night when I met up with Jill, and felt the same the next morning when we had breakfast together and also while I washed dishes. How could I not be, knowing that a clan of my kind lived in Brooklyn? The idea of it was staggering. I knew about many of the clans of my kind, but certainly not about all of them. Still, the ones I knew about all lived hidden deep in the wilderness, as my clan did. I would never have imagined a clan situated in the middle of a large city like this. The more I thought about it, the more envious I became of this clan. They didn’t have to live in the backward manner that my kin did. And they never had to risk the cravings’ wrath because of a snowbound winter lasting longer than expected, nor did they have to go on the long perilous pickups that I had done and my great-uncle Jedidiah and others before us had had to do. This city had so many stragglers and other such loners and lost people who could be picked up from the street as easily as I could pick up apples from a market. They didn’t have to plan ahead or bother rationing their meat. And their salvage yard was more than private enough for them to perform slaughtering rituals and meat preparation without risk of discovery, and more than large enough for them to hide several thousand years’ worth of crushed bones. I couldn’t help wondering if the elders knew about this clan’s existence and had kept us in the dark, or if they were as ignorant about it as I had been.
That Friday morning, at times I found myself lost in thought as I wondered about this clan and whether there were other clans like them hiding in other large cities. Consequently, I was surprised when I looked over my shoulder and saw the cook I was doing business with taking his position behind the grill. I hadn’t seen him enter the kitchen, nor would I have guessed that four hours had passed since I arrived at work. As with the other day, he looked timid without even a hint of his earlier angry countenance showing. Also as with the other day, he was making sure to not so much as glance in my direction as he cooked meats and eggs and other foods on the grill.
I left the sink and approached him. Even though I did this silently and his eyes were fixed on the food he was cooking, he sensed that I was standing near him, and his eyes became fearful and his body shrank into itself, almost as if he were trying to hide from me.
‘Do you have the documents I paid for?’
He looked as if he was surprised by my question, and shook his head in a panicky sort of way. At that moment he seemed incapable of speech.
This infuriated me, and I was aware of some of my true nature slipping back into my voice as I snarled at him, ‘We had a deal that you’d deliver my documents to me today.’
He winced the same as if I’d struck him, but found his voice, claiming, ‘My brother, I swear, I’m getting them today. It’s too early now. But I’ll be getting them tonight, and we can arrange to meet after and I’ll give them to you. I swear it.’
I felt my anger fading as I studied him, and decided he was telling me the truth. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I knew the cravings were making me quick to anger. Although they were moving more sluggishly within me than when I first arrived in New York, they were working their way into my joints and skull and were now noticeably worse than yesterday. Still, if they continued to move lethargically, I might have as much as another week before needing to feed them again.
‘Bring them tomorrow morning when you come to work, and then we’re done.’
He nodded, his eyes remaining stubbornly focused on a single spot on the grill, as if he were afraid he’d die if he so much as caught a glimpse of me. I would’ve liked to have met him later that night so I could collect my documents from him, but I had plans to meet Jill as soon as I finished work.
I left him and went back to washing dishes.
THIRTY
‘What will you tell them about me?’
Jill grinned at my question. At times I’d still catch her wincing from pain, but overall her color was better and she was moving more freely.
‘That you were the one who rescued me after that jerk Ethan stranded me on the Mass Pike, and that we’ve since become good friends.’ A playfulness entered her voice as she added, ‘Don’t worry, Charlie, I won’t tell them you’re my boyfriend, since we’re not officially dating yet.’
We had walked from Jill’s apartment to the Parsons Boulevard subway station, where we were going to take the subway to the White Hall Terminal in Manhattan, and then from there a ferry to Staten Island and finally an Uber ride to her parents’ house. Ostensibly, I was helping Jill by carrying a duffel bag filled with the clothing and school books that she was going to need that weekend, but her real reason for having me accompany her was so I could meet her parents. Once we were seated in the subway car, Jill scooted along the bench, so that her uninjured side was up against me, and took hold of my closest arm with both her hands.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ she said, grinning. ‘My parents will love you. After all, you’re the one who rescued me.’
My uneasiness wasn’t caused by the thought of meeting her parents, but rather was the work of the cravings. I had thought earlier that I’d have another week before I’d need to feed them again, but now I was beginning to believe it would have to be earlier than that. I tried to ignore the discomfort the cravings were causing and focus only on the feel of Jill’s body against mine, and for the most part this was successful.
Later, when we were on the ferry, as we approached the Statue of Liberty Jill pointed it out. I’d long known about this structure as there was an illustration of it in one of the clan’s books. Jill and I were holding hands at this point, and standing by the railing so we could get a good view of the statue. Her body leaned against mine, and she told me how she and her pa used to take the ferry to Manhattan when she was a child.
‘I used to love doing that as a kid. We’d always end up in Central Park and he’d buy me a hot pretzel or sometimes roasted chestnuts, and always a cherry ice.’
I didn’t want to imagine Jill as a child. I was afraid if I did I might see her at that age as one of them, and I didn’t want that to ever happen.
‘I’ll take you to Central Park soon,’ I said. ‘And I’ll buy you a pretzel, or roasted chestnuts if you’d prefer, and a cherry ice, whatever that is.’
‘You don’t know what ices are?’
Obviously, I knew what ice was, but I was sure that wasn’t exactly the same thing as what Jill was talking about. I shook my head.
‘We’ll have to rectify that soon.’
We moved from the side of the boat to the back so that we could watch Manhattan as we floated away from it. ‘This is the first time I’ve been on a boat,’ I said.
‘Over here, bub.’
&
nbsp; I looked at Jill. Her eyes were half-lidded and face tilted upward, and she was using the index finger of her right hand to wave me to her. When we kissed, it was so deeply passionate that it ached when it ended. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way her eyes glistened, and the little smile she showed when she realized the effect her kiss had had on me. I certainly hoped I’d never forget it.
Jill’s parents’ house was bigger than the houses I built for my clan, but that was mostly because they only had a single level, while her parents’ house had two. The street her parents lived on was filled with similar houses, each separated by a small strip of land, and – except for the maze of streets that led to the salvage yard where the Brooklyn clan resided – it was far quieter than any of the other streets I’d roamed since coming to New York.
They met us at the door. They were both on the small side, like Jill. Her ma was about the same height, her pa five or six inches taller. Neither of them would’ve provided my clan with much meat if they were ever picked up. It was hard for me to guess their ages since they both looked so much younger than my parents. Since they were important to Jill, I tried hard to see them as I did her and not as them, and after a minute or so I was mostly able to succeed at this.
Her pa smiled at me, although his smile seemed strained somewhat by nervousness. ‘You’re the young man who rescued our daughter,’ he said, his voice also betraying nervousness. ‘I’d like to thank you for that.’
He extended his hand, which I took. He might’ve been small, but his hand was hardened enough by calluses to let me know that he worked with his hands.
‘Jill’s also told us that you’ve been the perfect gentleman since she’s gotten to know you.’
‘Dad!’ Jill interjected, her cheeks peppering nicely with red. ‘Cut it out. Please.’
‘Well, you did tell us that,’ he stubbornly insisted. ‘And your mom and I appreciate it. But never mind.’ He turned to me, and said, ‘Charlie, how about joining us inside for some coffee and pie? Or some beers if you’d like.’
‘I don’t think so, dad,’ Jill said. ‘You’re not giving Charlie the third degree today. Besides, he has plans and has to head back. He came along only to help me with my duffel bag.’
None of this was true. I didn’t have any imminent plans, at least none that Jill knew about. But as I’d already mentioned, Jill had her ulterior motives for bringing me, so I didn’t correct her.
‘Your friend doesn’t have fifteen minutes to spare?’
‘No, he doesn’t.’
Her pa didn’t seem to want to accept that answer, but before he could say anything further, her ma stepped forward. ‘Well, at least let me kiss you,’ she said.
This was awkward for me, though I was no longer seeing her as one of them, at least not completely. Still, my own ma had never kissed me, at least not that I could remember, nor had any of my other women kin. With Jill it was different, but with any others it was a custom I’d rather not have participated in. Still, I lowered my knees and leaned forward, and submitted to Jill’s ma kissing me on my cheek. Almost immediately after that, Jill took me by the hand and informed her parents that she needed to have a word with me in private before I left. Her parents stayed where they were while Jill led me down the short walkway in front of their house, and then further down the sidewalk until she felt we were far enough away for them not to be able to overhear us if we talked softly.
‘I love both my parents dearly, but fifteen minutes would’ve turned into three hours,’ she whispered to me. ‘By the time they were done interrogating you, you’d have been ready to dump me for the first girl whose parents aren’t so damn nosy.’
‘Not possible.’
‘Don’t be so sure. Anyway, this was meant to be just a quick meet and for you to help me with my bag … I’ll bring you back another time when we’re both better prepared.’
Her eyes melted a bit as she smiled at me. ‘It really was sweet of you to come here like this. So, any plans now that you’re going to have a weekend free of me?’
‘Nothing more than spending some quiet time alone reading,’ I lied.
THIRTY-ONE
For a reason I couldn’t explain, I looked over my shoulder at the precise moment when the cook entered the kitchen on Saturday morning. He didn’t stop at the grill, but instead continued toward me as I rinsed off dishes in the sink. I wiped my hands on the apron and took the large envelope he held out to me.
‘That has what you want,’ he said, his voice barely a croak, his stare frozen at a spot on the floor. It had been almost five days since I showed him my true self, and he was still afraid to catch so much as a glimpse of me. ‘You’ll keep away from me now?’
I took out the birth certificate and social security card from inside the envelope. The birth certificate claimed I was born at the Catholic Memorial Hospital on February 20, 1987, which was the date I’d written down for the cook. I knew I was twenty-eight, but I didn’t know what day I was born since it isn’t our custom to celebrate the day of our birth, as their world does. My ma, though, once told me that I was born during a harsh February snowstorm, almost as if she were accusing me of picking that time to make things more difficult for her. Anyway, I needed a date of birth for the certificate and the one I gave the cook seemed like it would be close enough. The other document in the envelope was much smaller, only a few inches long, but it had printed on it the number that would allow me to work in their world and do jobs such as carpentry and building houses. I examined both documents carefully.
‘You’ll never see me again,’ I promised.
I took off my apron and carried it with me as I walked out of the kitchen. Chris was standing by the cash register, and when he saw me coming toward him his jaw set and his eyes slitted as he gave me a shrewd look. He waited until I reached him before telling me to get back to work.
‘I’m counting this as your fifteen minute break,’ he added.
‘Do whatever you want with your breaks. I’m no longer working here,’ I said.
‘Yeah? Well guess what, you want to get paid, then you work till your shift’s finished. You’re not leaving me high and dry like this, at least not if you want any money for this week.’
I grabbed him by the throat, moving too fast for him even to blink, let alone back away. This surprised him, to say the least, and he tried to struggle against me, his eyes bulging with both outrage and shock. All I had to do was squeeze my hand, and I’d crush his windpipe. He couldn’t yell for help. He could barely make a gurgling noise. As he clawed at my hand that was gripping his throat, he looked into my face and that was when I showed him a glimpse of my true self. When he began trembling in fear over what he saw, I let go of him. He stumbled backwards a step, gasping for air, his hands clutching his throat.
This all happened in a matter of seconds. What I’d noticed during my short time as a dishwasher was that fewer of them came in on Saturday mornings than during the week. At that time there was only a scattering of them sitting in the booths and at the counter, and none of them noticed what happened. Also on Saturday mornings only one waitress worked, and she didn’t notice either, although she turned our way after I let go of Chris’s throat.
‘You’ll pay me what you owe me,’ I said, keeping my voice low.
‘You son of a bitch,’ he forced between his gasps. He backed several more steps away from me. ‘I should call the police on you.’
He knew I would kill him if he did so. Maybe not right then, but he knew I’d come back another time for him. He saw that in the glimpse I had shown him, and the knowledge of it made him tremble more.
‘Pay me what you owe me and you’ll never have to worry about me again.’
He was torn between fear and greed. Reluctantly he came to a decision. ‘I’m not paying for today,’ he said. ‘Not with you leaving me without a dishwasher.’
‘You’re paying me for all the hours I’ve worked. You can put on the apron and wash dishes yourself if need be.’
‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ he muttered. ‘I knew you were a mistake, but I tried being a nice guy and helping you out. This is what I get. Fine, I’ll pay you. It will be worth it to never see your face again.’
I told him what he owed me for five days and four hours of dishwashing. He didn’t argue the amount, but when he counted out the money it was $68 short.
‘Rental for the apron and cost for broken dishes,’ he grunted out with a straight face.
‘No. You’re not cheating me any longer. You’re paying me the full amount. Also for what you cheated me of last week. Otherwise it will be as bad for you as if you didn’t pay me anything.’
His first impulse was to fight me on it. I saw that in his eyes. If he hadn’t caught that glimpse, he would’ve tried it. But he did catch it, and the fight quickly bled out of him. Grudgingly he counted out $136 and laid it on the counter.
‘You lowlife ingrate,’ he said. ‘Take it and get out of here. You’re never welcome back here.’
I took the money and left. I was done with him, and done with dishwashing.
When we met, at a coffee shop in Brooklyn, the girl introduced herself as Annabelle, but from the way she smiled with her small and darkly painted lips I had the idea that she had made the name up. Yesterday after I left Jill, I found a store in Manhattan where a clerk sold me a smartphone capable of sending text messages and taking photographs. As mentioned earlier, I can have a friendly face when I want to, and that evening I showed my friendliest face (even though the cravings were gnawing deeper into me and had become worse than a nuisance) and the sales clerk not only patiently taught me how to use the phone but treated me to doe-eyed looks and insisted on giving me her own phone number; and when the opportunity arrived she let her hand linger on top of my own. Once I left the store, I sent a message to the girl advertising for a private vampire, who turned out to be Annabelle. After an exchange of several more messages and photographs, we agreed to meet at this coffee shop, where we were now sitting across from each other at a table in the back.
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