Blood Shadow: The Vampire Hartwell

by Phil Wohl

Lucky for Cal, it was high tide – instead of floating out to sea, the current moved him steadily toward the shore. Hours passed as his water- logged body made the arduous journey toward land. He finally washed up on the beach at 3:00 a.m. on Monday morning, but had just about as much life as a broken tree limb.

  If Cal had washed ashore during the hours of 6:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m., a passing jogger or a young couple looking for privacy at night certainly would have discovered his body.

  Cal was on his back for the better part of two hours, lying motionless and without a heartbeat. Speaking of the sun, it started rising out of the east and its rays slowly worked its way down the Beach Haven shore. The light passed by Cal’s body and steadily shot shiny crystals from his head to his toes. The healing process took about 30 seconds, with water trickling out of his pours and the last few quarts of liquid making its way upward as his heart started pumping again.

  Cal coughed, as water shot from his mouth and sprayed all around him. He rolled over on his side in pain, as his body felt like it had been hit by a Mack truck. He continued rolling to his knees, as water streamed out of his mouth. Cal coughed repeatedly and tried to get his bearings as he sat on his butt, pained by the bright glow of the rising sun.

  Years in the dark depths of the ocean had given way to the intense brightness of the new day. At first he had no idea who he was or why he was on the beach. He shielded his eyes from the sun, but then realized that the rays were the reason that he was even ‘being’ in the first place.

  Cal slowly rose to his feet, the weight of his saturated clothes making it difficult for him to stand erect at first. He then, instinctively, spread his arms wide and faced the sun, letting the warmth brilliantly fuse atrophied muscles and bones, and reboot a brain that had gone off-line.

  His eyes were closed for a good five minutes while his body underwent extensive repair. Neurons were sparking wildly like a group of connected power lines. When he was fully restored, Cal’s eyes opened wide as he turned to land.

  His face turned from a blank to slate to one of frustration and fury. Then he defiantly exclaimed, “HARTWELL!” as he raised his fists toward the perfect, azure sky.

  Cal dropped his fists toward his side and then crouched down in a sprinter’s position. He then focused on me, and only me, as the fireball blazed a scorching trail toward my lair.

  Once the coordinates were set, Cal exploded out of the blocks, throwing sand in every direction behind him until he hit land.

  The two-second journey along the coast felt more like 20 minutes to Cal. He thought about many things on his way to ‘meet his maker.' The first of which was Sharon – for a moment he thought about putting off killing me for a few minutes until he could visit her first. But when he dug deeper, more anger was unearthed. She had left him down there for who knows how long? So, he stayed on the course of his original objective.

  Cal longed to see his sister and father, and the nephew he left behind. But the one person he thought about the entire time was his son, Daniel, and how hard it must have been for him to grow up without a father. The image of Daniel as a child sent Cal to another level of hunting, through his focused rage.

  He turned the corner as the action continued to slow. I opened my front door and was not visible to Cal, who was so hyped up that it appeared – to the advanced naked eye – that he had run past his intended target.

  I stopped in his tracks and then was driven back into my house and onto the floor. I looked up and saw Cal Brewster, breathing hard and holding my still-beating heart in his hand.

  “I hate Monday’s,” I panned. “It’s going to be a long walk home,” I said as I died for the 100th time.

  Cal dropped the now beat-less heart on the floor and then walked over and cleaned his hands off in the kitchen sink.

  LOVE

  Daniel shook his head in disbelief and then mentally reached for the picture of the family back in San Francisco during happier times. He studied the picture for the better part of seven seconds and then asked, “What happened to us?”

  Daniel floated the picture over to me, as I had studied the trio many times in recent days.

  I initially talked with my head down. “We had a great life. Your mom and I were madly in love, and then you came along and I life was so much fuller. We traveled, we laughed, and we really enjoyed each other’s company.”

  My face turned blank, “Then the plague hit… and…” I tried to hold back the icicles. “And then, before I could do anything, you both were gone.”

  Daniel took it all in and then responded, “So, you only became a vampire so you could see us again?”

  I nodded in agreement.

  Daniel could see the merits in such a noble act, but that still didn’t satisfy his curiosity.

  “So, why me? Why turn me? I mean, you could have just told me.”

  I sent the picture back to the table and returned to my usual, unflappable self.

  “I could have just told you? That would have worked out. How come you never really questioned – all of those years – who I was?”

  Daniel searched for the answer, I filled in the blank, “Because you knew me.”

  “Because I trusted you,” Daniel stated.

  “Because I am your father,” I added.

  Maggie was the new Beach Haven High School librarian, and she also happened to be the first iteration of my wife who died in the early 1900’s.

  Maggie’s life had been fairly stress-free until she decided to pick up and move from her roots in Portland, Maine. At the time she had a great library job and was about to buy her first house when her parents were killed in a freak skiing accident.

  Instead of staying in Maine and putting down roots, she sold her parents’ house and got the job in Beach Haven. The New York community was her second choice to a job she was offered in – of all places – San Francisco.

  Maggie was all set to take the job. She even went out to the West Coast and spent a long weekend in the area, meeting with school personnel and looking around with a realtor to find a place to live.

  Everything was in place until she walked around by herself on Sunday morning. Maggie turned a corner and was hit with an Empire State Building-sized flashback.

  She was holding a little boy’s hand and he was saying, “Did you see that mom and dad?”

  The flashback continued as the boy – wearing a white dress shirt, a cap, wool pants, and shoes – ran up the long flight of stairs to what was presumably their house. She turned and kissed a man, but his face was blurry and she couldn’t make him out.

  The flashback stopped and she was standing in front of the very house she lived in with me and Daniel, at least when Daniel was named Nathanial. Something was telling her at that moment that this wasn’t the place she was supposed to be.

  Maggie looked in awe at the house as her cell phone buzzed, alerting her that she had an e-mail. She pulled her phone out of her purse and opened the e-mail, which was from the Beach Haven School District. They wanted to interview Maggie for their soon-to-be-open librarian position.

  She was a firm believer in signs. The combination of the flashback with the eerily-timed e-mail convinced her where her next step in life would likely occur.

  It was 1:59 and 56 seconds. Daniel turned to me in our house and said, “You ready?”

  I replied, “As ready as…” and then we were standing in front of Maggie’s door, “I’m going to be,” I seamlessly finished my sentence. I then looked at the doorbell and nodded.

  Daniel rang the doorbell without even touching it. The bell never actually made an audible sound, only Maggie believed she heard it.

  “It’s my gift to the environment,” Daniel beamed as he contributed to the reduction of noise pollution and Maggie’s carbon footprint.

  Maggie swung the door open and she looked extremely relaxed and radiant in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with no sign of shoes or socks. The 21st century version of Maggie was much “crunc
hier” than her 19th/20th century predecessor.

  “Daniel Thompson is that you? Come on in here!” Maggie exclaimed with joy over seeing her favorite new student from the previous year. She hugged Daniel and then moved on to me, her life mate.

  Maggie kissed me and then we all started walking toward the living room of her ranch house.

  “So Thomas, how do you know each other? I’ve never heard you mention Daniel before,” the full-fledged detective voiced.

  Daniel slowed Maggie’s heartbeat enough until she was essentially frozen in time.

  “How are you going to answer that one?” Daniel asked me.

  “As much as I appreciate you trying to make this one a soft landing, you’re going to have to let this one play out naturally. There’s really no other way, son.”

  Daniel became more nervous with each passing second, because those moments went by excruciatingly slow in his frenetic world.

  I was ready to answer Maggie’s question as directly as possible, or so he thought.

  “We met a long time ago,” I replied, trying to string the conversation along at an orderly pace instead of hitting Maggie over the head with the truth.

  Daniel was playing along with me. “Yeah, me and Mr. Hartwell go way back.”

  Maggie was satisfied with the explanation – for now – but it still didn’t explain why her beau had to bring Daniel over her house.

  “So Daniel how is college?”

  The conversation kept getting murkier, as Daniel had amassed multiple doctorates by the second half of his freshman year and had also completed a full residency.

  “It’s definitely an adjustment,” Daniel said trying to dumb himself down to the college level. He then turned to me.

  “Remember I told you that Maggie – I mean – Miss Hollingsworth, helped me with that year-end paper I was writing last year?”

  Maggie wasn’t used to her students referring to her by her first name. She was a little curious about how much Daniel and I had talked about her.

  “Yes, Daniel was my favorite student to work with last year. He and I seemed to mesh from the moment he walked up to the library counter. Made my transition into the school so much easier.”

  I was already growing impatient. I was never a big proponent of idle chit-chat, either as a mortal or especially as a vampire. There was never a set-up when I fed off humans. Strengthening my base with their fluids had nothing to do with giving people closure at the end of their lives. To me, I was simply the beneficiary of blood sourcing being at the wrong place at the right time.

  “Why do you think that is?”I asked, interrupting the harmless flow of conversation.

  Daniel could sense that the conversation shift was coming by my elevated heartbeat. He knew that the secret could be contained for only so long.

  “I don’t know?” Maggie replied. “I guess I just have a better connection with some students.”

  I wasn't about to let the flow of the conversation run of his tracks. My head dropped and tears started flowing from my eyes.

  Maggie was looking at Daniel and did not immediately notice my abrupt change in demeanor. Daniel smiled at Maggie and attempted to hold her attention to give me a chance to pull himself together, but there was no turning back now.

  She was smiling until my sorrow became visible.

  “Thomas, what’s wrong?” Maggie said as she quickly moved toward me.

  Daniel spoke for me.

  “Do you believe in destiny, Maggie?”

  Maggie turned to Daniel, “Maggie? Why do you keep calling me Maggie?”

  “Because we know each other.”

  Maggie was confused only because she knew something was happening that was probably beyond mortal comprehension.

  “Of course we know each other!” Maggie exclaimed. “Thomas, what’s going on?” she said to me, after I had finally turned off the sprinklers.

  “We have a history.”

  “Of only a year,” she stated.

  I picked up his head and looked Maggie in the eyes. “Of more than 100 years.”

  Maggie stood up and initially felt like running out of the house, but her legs were powerless.

  An innocent bystander might have surmised that Maggie’s inability to move had something to do with Daniel’s influence. She was so frustrated, but her temporary paralysis had nothing to do with the original son.

  “That isn’t logical! What are you talking about 100 years, Thomas? And what does Daniel have to do with this? No offense Daniel, but why are you here with Thomas?”

  “Would you rather have us answer each question sequentially, or would you rather see a sensory presentation?” Daniel asked.

  “Sensory presentation? What is he talking about, Thomas?”

  I stood up and walked a few paces over to Maggie, “Why don’t you sit down, my love.”

  I guided her to the couch and we both sat down facing the middle of the room.

  “You’re on,” I said to Daniel.

  Life-size 3-D images of our family back in early 20th century San Francisco appeared as we all watched.

  “How is he doing this? Is that me?” Maggie asked as I motioned for Daniel to put the image in her head so she couldn’t talk over it.

  The men watched the 3-D image while Maggie had the story of their lives played internally. She was walking in San Francisco – much the way she did when she went on her modern-day interview. The action played out again as Maggie saw herself holding a little boy’s hand and walking next to a tall, sleek man. In her previous flashback, she had a full view of the young boy but couldn’t quite make out the man’s face.

  “Look at Nathanial, honey. He’s so happy!” she gushed.