I shook my head sadly. “Secular materialism. There is a whole universe out there you people refuse to acknowledge.”
“Nice words, Al, but they’re only words.”
Her bravado was commendable. She dared me to prove to her what I really was without knowing if indeed such a revelation would be dangerous. Of course, if I was lying, the danger would be relatively minimal. Being not much smaller than I, she most likely believed she could fight her way out of my apartment largely intact. Under normal circumstances, that would most likely be true.
“I want you to watch very carefully.” I lifted my upper lip and showed her my teeth. “They look like yours, do they not?”
“Yeah.” She studied me closely. “You pretty much look like anybody else. You’re just very pale, but so’s a lot of people. Hell, Jack Williams, he drives only late night shifts, never gets up before six. He’s paler than you.”
I opened my senses, casting adrift the sensory filter that is usually present to keep me from a constant state of hunger. Quickly, her scent washed over me, not her perfume, but the very smell of her flesh, the very bouquet of her being. Her beating heart pounded loudly inside my skull.
Long, pointed fangs slid from their housings. I struggled not to look into her eyes, not to fall into the vortex of all that blood coursing through her body.
I could feel my own blood pumping through me, my head pulsating. My breathing labored, grew louder. Just a moment more, just as long as my discipline could stand this test before I might drown in an ocean of her scent and her hot, steaming blood.
“Oh my fucking God,” she gasped, her voice sounding shaky and distant.
I took a long, deep breath. My heart slowed. Fangs retracted into their housings.
Nicole stared at me, shock and fear registering on her face. Her heart beat rapidly, her sweat grew acrid, and her body tensed, as if she might bolt toward the door.
“Do not worry,” I reassured her. “I will not harm you.”
“After what I just saw, I can’t say I believe you.”
“All you saw was a clear illustration that Plato presents a more sophisticated and real view of the world than Aristotle.”
She laughed dryly, then grabbed her glass, went into the kitchen for more water then quickly returned to her seat, her eyes only leaving me when the kitchen wall separated the two of us. “Christ, this is so fucking unbelievable.” Her breath having finally returned, she sounded much more calm. “I felt like I was starting to get to know you, so it was difficult to swallow what you were saying, but—and you really aren’t going to hurt me?”
“No. That is the last thing I want to do.”
She nodded, apparently believing me. “So, what does this have to do with Frank?”
“Upon arriving here in Madison , Frank was the one who picked me up at the airport. When we reached our destination, he was so kind to provide sustenance.”
Nicole’s eyes opened wide. “You attacked him? Sucked his blood? You sucked his blood and he survived? He didn’t turn into a vampire?”
“Hollywood .” I spat the word from my mouth like a substantial gob of phlegm. “I am not a killer, and my bite does not transform one into a vampire. I merely try to sustain myself while causing as little pain and anguish as possible to those who act as my donors.”
“Without consent,” she added sharply.
“No, but with a mere meeting of the eyes, I can, in effect, hypnotize a person so they never know what happened to them, and I only take a very small amount. Not even a pint.”
“If you hypnotize your victims, how do you explain Frank?”
“On very rare occasions, the effect will not be permanent.” I related the incident in the bathroom, which had apparently triggered his recall.
Nicole glanced thoughtfully at the ceiling. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“I will do nothing.”
“Al, you gotta do something. Isn’t this situation dangerous?”
“Potentially, but what would you have me do?”
“I don’t know. Something. Anything.”
“Action will only exacerbate the situation. No one will believe him. Eventually, he will probably cease to believe it himself.”
“It’d be nice to think so, but you weren’t at that membership meeting. He seemed pretty convinced.” She paused, studying her long, graceful fingers. “What if you ‘hypnotized’ him again? Maybe you might push it right out of his head.”
I shook my head. “Ill-advised. Such action would bring undo attention to the situation. Besides, if he is as convinced as you say, even I would find it difficult to control Frank’s mind. He would fight me and most likely win.”
Nicole rose. I wondered how the shock had affected her. Though she seemed reasonably comfortable with this revelation, it would take her some time to truly come to grips with it.
“Look,” she said calmly, “I’m just trying to help. But it looks like you don’t want any help, so I’m just going to leave you alone.” Quickly, she was out the door, but this time she did not slam it behind her.
As she left, I started to open my mouth to speak, but she was gone before I could tell her that she should take her father’s book.
———
My two days off passed as I pondered the circumstances, still unwilling to take action. Nicole had offered reasonable arguments, but certainly she did not have the benefit of 1,000 years of experience, nor could such a young person understand that rash action will generally result in undesired results.
Upon arriving for my next scheduled shift, I found a waybill envelope with my name on it tacked upon the bulletin board next to the time clock. Inside was a set of plastic vampire fangs made for children to wear on All Hallows’ Eve and a note that read, “You can’t hide. I know what you are.”
I folded the note then secreted it and the fangs within the pocket of my leather jacket and stepped inside the dispatch office to receive a cab.
“Got a nice sled for you, Al,” Maggie said. Nicole’s auburn-haired Celtic friend was answering phones. “Eighty-eight, waiting just for you. Nicest cab in the fleet. A real thoroughbred.”
“Excellent,” I replied. “Have we been busy today?”
“Not bad. No snow coming this week, but the weather’s still crappy. Good for business.”
“I am anxiously awaiting.” I took the key and turned to leave.
“Just a second, Al. Maureen wants to see you. She’s upstairs.”
“Thank you,” I said, leaving and climbing the stairs, hiding my displeasure at this summons. I did not need any more trouble than I already possessed. What errors in judgment had I possibly made? Had one of my passenger’s been upset by an action or lack thereof on my part?
Maureen sat behind her desk, which was clear except for one Manila folder. When I crossed her threshold, she rose, bearing not the casual appearance I had seen before. She wore a ruffled, high neck blouse and a navy blue skirt. A matching blazer hung on a rack behind her.
“Al. Come in.” She motioned toward a chair in front of her desk, then looked herself up and down. “Yeah, had a meeting with the Wisconsin Taxi Association today. A bunch of living stereotypes, all fat guys smoking big cigars. They don’t take me very seriously, being a woman, but they seem to like the work I’ve been doing setting up an insurance mutual that’ll save us from those bloodsuckers who’ve been overcharging for our liability insurance for so many years. Please, have a seat. And close the door.” She paused until we were sealed within her office. “You weren’t at the membership meeting this Saturday.”
A statement of fact that sounded like an accusation. I did not know attendance was mandatory, but I did know it does not take the wisdom of Solomon to determine who really holds the reins of power at this alleged cooperative. “I had no idea attendance was mandatory,” I replied.
“It’s not,” the general manager replied. “It’s good to have as many people at a membership meeting as possible, but no one has to be there
.” She dropped her forearms on the desk and leaned forward. “There’s something very serious I need to talk to discuss with you.”
So, this is when the cooperative mask is removed, revealing the true face, the true nature of the creature’s state of being. Everyone is equal, but some are more equal than others. And this woman, who has the power of life and death, who holds my fate in her hands, was about to demonstrate just that because I was not being a good enough cooperative member.
“Al, I want you to know that as long as I’m general manager, no form of harassment will be tolerated.”
Suddenly, I found myself confused. I squeezed the fangs in my pocket and nodded, simply answering “Uh huh,” just as the Americans do.
Maureen held up the Manila folder. It bore the name Frank Nelson. “You know about the statement Frank Nelson made at the membership meeting, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“He’s getting a four-point letter for that, but I’m talking to you now because I want to know if he has in any way harassed you personally. Have there been any incidents between you and him?”
My mind raced. The fingers in my pocket tore the fangs into two mangled pieces. Perhaps, I should just handle this situation myself and not get anyone else involved in order to avoid calling too much attention to myself. However, if Maureen chose to intervene, maybe it would be best to simply let her do as she wished.
Maureen leaned forward and her voice softened. “Look, Al, you don’t have to be afraid of him. If there’s been other problems, I’ll write a twelve-point letter. Maybe the letter might get overturned by the Appeals Committee, but as far as I’m concerned, you say the word, and he’s gone.”
I suddenly felt myself genuinely touched by her concern. How ridiculous that I had believed she was about to issue me a letter of discipline. No, she really wanted to help. I must really learn to be less the Tory.
She held her peace. It occurred to me that she knew there had to have been some kind of incident between Nelson and myself, and if I denied that such an occurrence had taken place, that would call more attention to the situation than would be prudent. Finally, I related the incident in the bathroom and showed her the note and the fangs or rather the mangled remains.
Maureen shook her head sadly at the story’s completion. “Okay, Al. He’s gone.” She leaned back in her chair and tipped her head up toward the ceiling. “I never like firing anybody, and I was really hoping Frank was going to work out, but he’s sick, and he needs professional help.”
“I am afraid I have no idea of what it is you are talking about.”
The general manager laid a hand on the folder. “I’m not really supposed to tell you this because it’s a confidential, personnel matter, but this does involve you, and besides, you could hear about it from several other people. Hell, Kern was there when it happened.”
“When what happened?”
“A few months ago, Frank totally went off his nut. We don’t really know exactly what happened, but one night in late November, he fell through a second-story window. He was okay, just cut up a bit, but when Kern found him, he was babbling about some glowing creature coming to him through his windows. Kern was nearby because Frank had called the dispatch office asking if a cab could come by and check if someone was messing around outside his window.
“Well, Frank spent some time at Mendota Mental Hospital . They let him out a month ago. He said he was okay and needed a job. Hell, we were glad to hire him back and help him if we could. I guess he needs more help than we can give. I hope he gets it.”
“Yes, and so do I.” Indeed, but what kind of help? Those Dr. Frankensteins, who consider themselves so damned qualified to manipulate the human mind, could not comprehend the giant worm that had planted itself inside Frank’s head. Their alleged help would do nothing but exacerbate his agitated state. I rose from my chair and thanked Maureen for her attention.
Descending the stairs, thoughts rushed through me. Was it truly time to take action? If so, what would be the best manner in which handle this situation?
Clearly, more information was needed. If only I was not scheduled to work the next five days; some intelligence gathering would be useful if only the time was available.
Kern appeared at the bottom of the stairs bearing his usual smiling countenance, though his expression was softer than usual, and there was a certain peculiarity to the way he looked at me. Clearly, he looked concerned.
“Hey, Al,” he said. Al, not Count. He was concerned. “How’s it going?”
“Well, I just met with the boss,” I replied with a sardonic grin, “and I have survived.”
“You’re the boss, Al,” Kern countered. “We’re a co-op. Maureen works for us.”
“Indeed. And an excellent job she does.”
“She met with you about Frank. He’s history, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “Frank has been discharged.”
“I knew something happened between the two of you. Must’ve been pretty nasty.”
“Sufficiently nasty.”
Kern shook his head sadly. “Well, he’s pretty loony-tunes. He can go be crazy someplace else.”
“Maureen said you know something about it.”
Kern repeated the story pretty much as Maureen had told it, except his version seemed a bit more vivid, down to a detailed description of the cuts covering Frank’s face and arms and how the blood squirted rhythmically from sliced arteries.
“Just a little warning,” Kern said, stepping out of my way. “Frank’s on his way here. He’s scheduled to work tonight, but I guess he won’t be doing his shift. You probably don’t wanna be here when he gets here.”
“No. Thank you for the warning.”
His grin spread fully across his face. “Glad to help. And if you need anything, let me know. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be all right.”
Indeed. I yearned to share Kern’s confidence, but he most likely would not be quite so optimistic if he knew all there was to know.
———
At shift’s end, Nicole found me in the parking lot as I walked to my car, ready to depart after a fair but uneventful shift. “I’m meeting you at your apartment,” she said.
I voiced protest, but she would hear none of it.
“I have information,” she answered.
“What information?”
She reached into her rucksack and pulled out a spiral notebook. “It’s Frank’s diary.”
“Where did you get that?” My voice sounded a bit frantic and for good reason; this form of theft could be just the thing to push Frank over the edge, as if his firing might not be sufficient enough to do just that.
“His motel. He’s staying at this really sleazy place. God, you should see it. A fucking pigsty. Trash and used food containers everywhere. The place stank of cigarettes, stale beer and his dirty laundry. Gross! But what was real creepy was there were all these flowers made out of plastic beads set up on the dresser, all arranged in neat, symmetrical rows. Oh, and I got these too.” She handed me a pair of dark, grainy photographs. “That is you, isn’t it? Your pants, your leather jacket?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s the woman?” She pointed at the plump blonde holding one of the jacket’s arms.
“A prostitute.”
“Great!” Her reply sounded irritated. “Look, I don’t wanna bother with that now—”
“You should not have done this, Nicole. He was fired today. Surely, he will notice that these items have been pilfered. How did you get in there anyway?”
“I told the desk clerk I was Frank’s sister. And I gave him five bucks.” She paused. “Look, it’s too late to worry about this now. You gotta read this diary.”
She was right. “You know where I live. I will see you there shortly.”
———
“This guy’s really sick, Al,” Nicole said, sipping the Russian Caravan tea I had brewed. After her last visit, it seemed reasonable to keep some refreshments around the apartment. �
�You gotta check this out.”
I sat and she pushed the diary across the table.
“It’s hard to tell when he wrote these entries,” she said, “but it seems they cover the time after you attacked him and before he went to Mendota. It covers a little bit of his time inside and then almost up to the present.”
I nodded and opened to the first entry, dated November 29, just a week after my arrival. “Have to say it was simply a case of being in the right place at the right time. Got lucky and hooked an out-of-towner toward the end of a twelve-hour hack shift. Janesville . Forty miles of highway, a buck-twenty per mile of easy money. Good old cab sixty-six. Always did bring me luck, mostly good.
“‘On the way back, bum-fuck nowhere, pitch dark except the reflected glow of my headlights, nothing but road stretching out in front, grassy median and oncoming lanes to my left and forest all over the place. All alone, not even any truckers for company.
“‘That’s when I saw it. Just a quick flash, a glimmer and shimmer, a quick glimpse of something out there, running or jumping in the median. Something doing something, that’s all I can say. It was there, then it wasn’t.
“‘The thing had two legs and two arms and a head, kinda like a glowing teenage kid, just smooth without any real features and sorta glowing. Vaguely luminescent—glow color, but not exactly glowing, like maybe you wouldn’t want to try to read by it.
“‘Well, I just can’t stop thinking about it. The sight of this creature has become an obsession very quickly. It sounds crazy, but I know I saw it. I wish I knew what the hell it was.
“‘I thought about asking some of my friends, the ones I was pretty sure wouldn’t laugh. Only problem was I wasn’t sure who’d laugh and who wouldn’t. The next night, I was sitting by myself at the bar at the Pinckney Street Hide-Away, stewing about this whole thing, feeling frustrated about not having anyone to talk to about this. Then, I saw Greta. She’d believe me. Hell, she’s a Born Again Pagan, or at least that’s what that button of hers says.
“‘So, I told her the whole story, about how I was unsure on the one hand, but knew I’d see something, maybe even a quick glimpse across dimensions, or something like that.
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