“I cannot decide if you are a geisha or a drag queen,” he said. It was the first time I’d heard him tell a contemporary joke.
I pulled him close and placed his hands on my shoulders. At first, he tensed. I breathed deeply and he settled into wrapping himself around me. He definitely wasn’t warm but he was comfortable. I felt better there. He noticed me begin to doze off in his arms.
“I am going to take you to stay with Bryant. You will be safe there,” he said.
“I’m not safe anywhere, am I?”
“His lair is very secure.”
“Stop calling it a lair.” I thought again. “It is kind of lair-ish, isn’t it?”
“You are easy to find, especially for Nick. He is not bound to the night, like I am. A Night Creature’s lair will protect you.”
*
As one could guess, Bryant slept all day. Duh. But his relationship with sleep and daylight wasn’t forced like Garth’s. His aversion to sun made sleeping during daylight hours practical. While that giant star overhead burned cancer into our skin and boiled the oceans, he dreamt of whatever vampires dream about…probably blood and virgins and castles.
“Can I come over to your place? We need to talk.” Robbie asked during a phone conversation. I’d been avoiding him because explaining the whole Angel of Death business was going to be awkward. Not to mention embarrassing, exhausting, and generally something I wished I didn’t have to do. It was like coming out of the closet all over again: “Mom, I’m…I’m…a reincarnated Prince with a demonic soul-cousin trying to kill me every other day. And yeah, I might also be in love with a gargoyle. Or a Vampire.”
Shit.
I looked around at Bryant’s steel-trap apartment. The blue-white light from eco-friendly bulbs was giving me a headache. “No, you can’t come over. I’m not staying at my place anymore,” I snapped.
“Where are you staying?”
I peeked in the refrigerator for something to eat. As predicted, nothing but dead things. “I’m at a friend’s. For safe keeping.”
“We can get coffee.”
“Yes, we can. Thing is…I’m kind of afraid to leave. Without supervision…an escort…possibly an armed tank.”
“Wait, who’s place are you staying at?”
“Um…”
“Is it one of those…?”
“Yes. The tall, pale one.”
“That’s what we need to talk about. I feel like a—”
“Crazy person? Yes, welcome to my world.” I opened the freezer and found a pint of butter pecan ice cream with a note:
For you. We’ll go grocery shopping tonight.
“At least it’s a good flavor,” I said.
“What?”
“Sorry. Nothing. Listen, the sun is going down soon and Bryant will be up. Then I can better gauge my evening.”
“Are you staying with a vampire or something?”
“Something like that,” I said. I could hear him grunt something related to frustration. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t suck my blood. This is an awkward conversation. I gotta go. I’ll call you later, promise.” I hung up and dug into my frozen confection.
“You’re allowed to leave, you know,” said Bryant. His sudden appearance nearly made me choke on a candy-coated nut.
“It’s not dark yet,” I coughed.
“Then don’t open the shades. Besides, it was hard to sleep with all that beating around the bush,” he said. He tied up his silk robe and sat at the kitchen bar across from me.
“Is it wrong for me to want a day or two of normalcy? Explaining all this isn’t normal.”
“Neither is living here. I don’t think you’d be happy leading a normal life, anyhow.”
He had a point. I had studied acting in college. I wanted my life to be just as theatrical, exulted from normalcy. As a child, I’d always gravitated towards the peculiar. From when I used to pretend to be a merkid by crossing my feet in the pool to when I pranced around the forest talking to imaginary elves, I was always looking for something out of the ordinary. Had I known being different would be so dangerous, I would have concentrated on fitting in a little better.
“How did you tell your family and friends about yourself,” I asked. “Or did you fake your death like in the movies?”
Bryant laughed softly as he carefully plotted his answer. “It was about twenty-five years ago. A plague was tearing through the city. There weren’t many people around to tell,” he said as he nervously fumbled with the top to my ice cream container. “With the few people I had around, I became distant. Yes, the obvious confinements of my condition made socializing difficult, but I was also scared. And embarrassed. I didn’t know what they’d think or if they’d believe me. I regret that.” He looked at me to see what effect his story had had. “Tell your friends. They aren’t your friends if they don’t believe you.”
“You’re right. But I’m going to hold off on my family. For them, it’s already weird enough that I kiss men,” I said.
“Are they supportive?”
“Oh, yes. They’re fine. It’s just different. Unexpected. It’s something they need to deal with. I’ve got my own shit.” I snatched the ice cream cap back from him. “Like getting something real to eat. As much as I love ice cream, I can guarantee it won’t be in my system in about 40 minutes, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s crass,” he scoffed.
“Shut up. You drink blood.”
He rolled his eyes. “I think we should be safe to open the blinds now.”
I walked over to the two giant blinds and prepared to pull their industrial-strength cords. Before I did, I turned to him, “You have friends now, right?”
He grinned widely. “Yes. There are more Immortals here than you think. You just have to know how to spot them. It’s been nice to meet Garth. Neither of us were meant to lead this kind of life, but it’s the hand we’ve been dealt.” He met me at the window. “Here, let me help. They’re heavy.”
The blinds rose and downtown sprawled below us. The sky was still painted with the slightest hint of pink, which slipped away in a matter of seconds. No matter how long I’d lived in the city or from what vantage point I’d seen it, the skyline could always entrance. Still does. Bryant’s smile dropped and his eyes became more serious. “What’s the date?” he asked.
“Um…I don’t know,” I said. I really didn’t. Time had become slosh. “Mid October, I think.”
“Must be. Do you know why we celebrate Halloween?”
“I watched a History Channel documentary on it once. It’s like an old, pagan holiday or something.”
“Yes. Souls can always show themselves to you if they choose, but they have no choice on Halloween. The veils that keep mortals from seeing spirits are thin then. It has something to do with gravity and moons and, well, I don’t fully understand it.” His hands tilted my face toward the street. “Do you see anything unusual out there?”
All I saw were crack whores, garbage pickers, and NYU freshmen trying to get into the bar across the street, “No. Nothing unusual.” I turned back to him. “Am I missing something?”
“It’s easy for beings like me to see the spirits. I see many more than usual.” I watched him try and count the souls he saw. He got overwhelmed and took a gulp of vile-tasting fear. “Let’s hope the veils lift sooner than later so you can see the ones who might be a threat.”
I took the same sour swig from his fear-cup and announced, “I want a burrito.”
*
“So, you’re an old soul,” said Robbie. We were walking through the park, enjoying colorful trees and warm apple ciders.
“Yes,” I said.
“This is a lot.”
“You don’t have to believe me.”
“I wouldn’t if I didn’t see someone get thrown out of a window. And a vampire. And a rock man.”
“That’ll do it.”
“This is challenging a lot of my beliefs. There’s no such thing as—”
I stopped
him. “That we know of. We aren’t able to explain everything yet. The more you question it, the crazier you’ll get. So take a deep breath. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Actually, there’s not…but possibly flying reindeer.” There were also invisible ghosts haunting my wake but I quickly shook the thought from my mind so I could function like a typical person and not go running to a church for sanctuary.
The pensive expression that had been plastered across his face for the past forty-five minutes cracked. A smile shone through. “So, are you like in love with him? Garth?”
“I…uh—”
“Then there’s the other one—”
“Bryant,” I said. “And, I don’t know. There’s something very familiar with Garth. There are the obvious limitations to any feelings I may have. And Bryant is—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he cut in.
“I guess they’re called feelings for a reason,” I said. “Feel. Not speak.”
He looked around at all the people enjoying the same beautiful fall day we were. He observed a young couple with a toddler, a first date chatting on a bench, an old woman fingering her wedding ring while looking out over the water. “You know, there are many types of love,” he said. “And I think it’s possible to have more than one great love. You can love many people at the same time, in different ways and capacities.”
“Are you thinking of becoming a polygamist?” I asked.
“No. I’m talking about humanity, about life. To limit us to these boxes and rules is insulting. We’re capable of feeling so much. There’s so much love to be felt, so much love out there.” He stopped us from walking and turned to me. “I’m not trying to excuse the way I acted this winter. There’s a difference between experiencing love and being a dick. I was a dick.”
I smirked toward the ground and placed my hand on the small of his back. We kept strolling.
Pain spread across his face with his next thought. “So do you have to kill Nick or something?” he asked.
“I don’t want to,” I assured him. “But we don’t know. We aren’t sure what to do.”
“Nick’s still in there,” he said. “He isn’t possessed all the time. The Nick I know is still helping plan a big Halloween party at that old church on Sixth. He’s kind of a professional homosexual nowadays.”
“What?”
“It’s for that nightlife magazine he interned at. They have a big party every year. He invited everyone on his friend list. Maybe he’ll be normal Nick there and you can talk to him.”
“On Halloween? Something tells me he won’t be.”
“Oh. But maybe he will. And your friends can come, too. Everyone will be in costume. They’ll blend right in.”
I always knew Robbie was smart but that was downright genius. “You want to go?” I asked.
“I was thinking about it. Not that I’m seeing him again. I’m not. We’re friends now. And it’s supposed to be really fun,” he said, brightly. “Will that be awkward?”
“Not at all. Start planning your costume.”
*
Garth and Bryant whispered as we climbed the stairs to the roof. Bryant had convinced the doorman we were attending a Halloween party in the building. Being that it was All Hallows Eve-Eve, the likelihood of spotting a costumed twenty-something in the village was great. Garth had no problem passing as a grade “A” party attendee. It was his first time in a residential building as a guest. The elevator was apparently too much to introduce him to, so we used the stairs (all twenty flights) to get us to the top.
“Is there a reason you’ve dragged us here?” I asked in between pants of exhaustion. Their whispers drowned out my question. “Hello!” Finally, I elicited a change in attention.
“I don’t know if it’ll make a difference to you,” said Bryant.
“We wanted to find a good vantage point,” Garth added.
“To see Washington Square Park.”
“It’s down the street. Why don’t we walk through? NYU’s cleaned up most of the drug addicts,” I offered.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Remember what I told you about Halloween?” asked Bryant.
Of course I had. I’d been living with the fear of ghosts roaming whatever hall, staircase, street, or bathroom I happened to be in. I even developed a habit of walk-running practically everywhere, thinking I could avoid them. To the layman, I must have looked like I was on the verge of pissing or crapping myself. All the time.
“Washington Square has a long, death-ridden history,” he continued.
“Well, NYU has a huge suicide rate. Have you looked at the tuition costs?” I said with my usual lack of sensitivity.
“It was once a potters field. People were hanged on its trees and buried under its stone. Before that it was an Indian burial ground.”
“That’s disturbing.”
“It’s always a bit haunted, but this time of year especially so.”
“And with the current situation, probably even more,” Garth said.
We reached the door to the roof. “So this is just for the two of you? I won’t see anything out of the ordinary?”
Bryant shook his head and opened the door. Below us Fifth Avenue met the park, which looked just like it should at night. The arch was majestically illuminated with the newly renovated fountain turned off for the evening behind it. Humans still milled about, as usual. Drifters sang on their guitars, old men played chess and kids got high. That park never sleeps. I was impressed by nothing more than a new aerial view of my city. The Immortals stood next to me in awe.
“I cannot believe it,” said Garth.
“There are so many,” Bryant agreed.
“Much more than usual. There is Dark Magic at work here.”
“What’s it like?” I asked.
“The souls are congregating. It is some kind of rally,” Garth said. His eyes were fixed to the open space just beyond the arch.
I tried to see what they saw. I strained my eyes and wished Immortal sight to them but all I got was a headache. Soon, though, something became visible. A young man stood on a bench, preaching to nobody in particular. The pedestrians passed by with their usual blinders, trying not to provoke the crazy person. “Can either of you see that man over there? On the bench. He’s yelling something,” I asked them.
Bryant stood on the ledge of the building and peered off. “The young guy,” he said.
Garth joined him, “It is Nick. He is speaking to the souls.”
“He must be readying them for tomorrow,” I said. “He knows we’re coming.”
“Where are we going tomorrow?” asked Garth.
“To a Halloween party. I know for sure he’ll be there. I thought it’d be the perfect time to act. But let’s just do it now,” I said, running for the door.
Bryant was in front of it before I could reach the handle. “That isn’t wise. We have no plan,” he said. “That is what I wanted to discuss this evening.”
“His forces are great,” Garth said.
“I have been conferencing with other followers of the Way. They will come to our aid if needed. Garth’s reputation will lure any Immortal into our fight. We can gain strength.”
Garth was embarrassed but it was true. “Even so, we have no sacrifice for the Demon.”
My heart sank. I’d been avoiding thinking about that part since we’d spoken to the head.
“That isn’t true,” Bryant said. “We have Nick.”
“No,” I blurted. “He doesn’t deserve that.”
“He is trying to kill you.”
“He isn’t. He’s possessed.”
“It’s called a sacrifice. By definition, it shouldn’t feel perfect. We need to sacrifice an innocent.”
“And that’s what he is. He’s innocent. His actions are not his.”
“I understand that,” Bryant said. He guided me back to Garth. “I’ve been thinking about this. It wouldn’t be fair to take someone unsuspecting, completely uninvolved. Giving Nick t
o the Demon will be the most direct way to end this. Your cousin’s soul will be in him. There will be no chance for him to escape.”
“But without a soul, his body will die and we’ll be responsible. No, I’ll be responsible because the two of you are Immortal and never have to face judgment,” I said.
Bryant’s face contorted with uneasy thoughts. “What if we can salvage him?” he suggested. Garth sneered, seeming to know where the conversation was going. “After the Demon takes Nick’s soul, I’ll take his body. With my blood in him, he can live on.”
“You want to turn him?” I asked.
“I don’t want to but it will save him. He’ll have the opportunity to live. Your conscience can be cleared.”
We silently processed the possibility. Cars grumbled below us. Nick’s tirade echoed faintly through the arch. It all seemed terribly complicated. I had to speak up. “Why don’t we just give my soul to the Demon? That’s obviously what would work best. Then Bryant can turn me.”
“No!” they both yelled.
“The Way would be healed, Nick would still be alive, and so would I.”
“Hardly,” said Garth. “I refuse to let that happen.”
“Agreed. I’m not granting this existence to you.” Bryant said. He was on the verge of getting weepy again.
“But you’d give it to him?” I argued.
“Yes, because he’s awful!” he said. “You don’t deserve this!” One tear fell down his face. “You will lead a normal life full of sunlight and love and experiences and you will die when you are old. When your life is up. You will be with your friends and family in Heaven, not trapped here and reviled for all eternity. Got it?”
Garth grunted in agreement. “Then it is decided. Tomorrow, Nick will be the sacrifice.”
*
For the amount weighing on my mind, I slept easily that night. Mere hours separated us from fate. Evil souls would go back to Hell, an innocent soul would be sacrificed, a man would become a monster, and I could continue living. I hoped I was worth all of the fuss.
In Stone: A Grotesque Faerie Tale Page 24