“Who let you in my home?” Sangio asked, turning his back on him.
“I am cleaning up the mess I made in your home,” Richard answered.
“The mess? Did you spill flour Richard? Or knock over a plant? Or did you bring leaves and dirt in from the vineyard? Tell me, what mess did you make in my home?” Sangio demanded to hear the words.
“I spilled the blood of Thaddeus and Drake on your floors Sangio. I helped drag their bodies to the barn, your body as well, streaking blood across the foyer. That is why I am in your house. I played a part in the massacre of your family a handful of nights ago, and I owe you, at the very least, the respect of cleaning it up.” Richard tried to stand as tall as he could, but hearing his own confession brought an immense pressure on his shoulders.
“So you intend to hide the trail of blood,” Sangio spat.
“Not hide, Sangio. Clean.” Richard stood his ground.
“Very well. Continue the cleaning. I will return.” Sangio attempted to leave.
“Wait!” Richard stopped him. “Please, the killing must end. Revenge isn’t the answer. The town is scared. There isn’t one man, woman, or child that feels safe.”
“With the exception of Hannah, I’ve not touched another woman. And I have never touched a child,” Sangio huffed defensively.
“But you have,” Richard drew every last drop of courage he had to stand up to Sangio. “When you take their fathers and brothers, as we have done to you, you touch them. When you take their sons, you might as well have killed the mothers. When you take their husbands, you leave the women helpless, destined to become laborers while there is no one home to raise the children. I do not believe that is whom your father raised you to be.”
"You dare speak of my father!” Sangio bellowed as he grabbed Richard by the shirt, raising him into the air. “Do not speak of my father ever again. Do you hear me? You have no right to speak of him.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about-”
“No, you weren’t thinking. The entire town wasn’t thinking and look at where it brought you today?” Sangio said, putting Richard back on his feet.
“Sangio?” Richard called. “Let me help."
“Isn’t it a little too late for that, Richard?”
“No, I don’t believe it is. Hannah told us you needed to drink, uh, rather ingest blood, right? Please allow me to try to get the transfusion packets, like Hannah was intending to bring back? Perhaps killing isn’t necessary. Let us try. It’s what we should have done to begin with. I’m sorry we didn’t, but I don’t believe it’s too late. I can’t believe it’s too late,” Richard offered.
“There is a matter of blood, Richard, and then there is a matter of murderers and thieves,” Sangio reminded him.
“I did not steal from your home, but I am just as guilty as those who did because I did not try to stop them. I have already spoken to many of the men who have wronged you, and they are all prepared to return the items they took and perform any service necessary to address their debt to you,” Richard informed him.
“I will consider your offer,” Sangio said, “Give me time.”
Instead of leaving the house, Sangio went back upstairs to his quarters where he saw himself in the mirror for the first time in days, not even recognizing himself. He was covered in dirt, ash, and dried blood. He was sure some of it was his own, his father and brother’s, as well as his victims. He stripped his clothes off quickly and immersed himself in the steaming water of the bath. He vigorously scrubbed every last drop of dirt and blood from his skin. He scrubbed his face trying to remove the repetative sounds his brain replayed. Hannah's cries, Joshua's bones snapping, the screams. Most distressing to him was the sound of his own voice. It was angry, cold, and he didn't recognize it. He stood in the tub until the water turned cold, but it didn’t feel cold to him. It just didn’t feel hot.
Sangio reappeared downstairs looking like a new man. He found Richard standing in the foyer, waiting for Sangio to inspect his work. The blood was gone, furniture was placed upright and the plants were repotted.
“I have to bring back some wood filler and plaster, for the bullet holes,” Richard said apologetically.
“Come sit,” Sangio beckoned him to the couch in the foyer.
“I’m dirty. I can stand.”
“I feel calmer when I sit.” And with that admission Richard hurriedly sat on the couch.
“I accept your offer to help, but you are one man and have only the right to speak for one family. I will not harm you, or your family. Nor will I harm any other man or his family as long as he does right by my family and returns what belongs to us. If they no longer have what is mine, they will figure out a way to replace it tenfold. Do you understand? They can leave it at the entrance to my estate, but I do not want to see another soul step foot on my property. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Richard nodded his head. “And the blood?”
“You will personally deliver blood to me each evening when the sun sets. As much as you are able to get, unless I instruct you otherwise. That will be the payment for the blood you spilled in my home. The town will figure out a way to supply it, be it buckets, bottles, cups. I don’t care. That is in your hands. As long as my thirst is satiated and I am left alone there will be no further deaths at my hands,” Sangio promised.
“What about the crops? Do you intend to continue making wine?” Richard asked, knowing the vineyard was the bread and butter for most of the community.
“I don’t know yet,” Sangio admitted. “My entire world has been ripped from its axis.”
And for the first time, Richard was no longer afraid of Sangio. He saw that Sangio still had his humanity,that he felt pain and compassion just as Richard did. He felt the sudden weight of the true devastation he helped cause for this young man.
“I’m sorry, Sangio,” Richard said in a tone that meant more to Sangio than he could imagine. “I’m not only sorry for what we did to you, but also for what happened to you in the days before we attacked you and your home.”
“Thank you, Richard. We all have our regrets in this matter. Please, go home to your wife and daughter. They must be sick with worry. You have done all that you can for me tonight. Return tomorrow with the blood after the sun sets.”
Richard reached out to shake Sangio’s hand, and looked him straight in the eyes when he felt his icy cold grasp. Instead of revulsion, Sangio saw sadness as Richard’s eyes welled up with the pain he felt for Sangio.
Over the next few days, every item that was stolen was returned, carried up to the courtyard by Richard after delivering the blood to Sangio. After the items were returned, the people from town continued to send him things: candles, kerosene, knitted socks, and fresh baked pies. He received casseroles, cakes, and bottles of the town’s finest spirits. He received packets of tobacco, Cuban cigars, and leather boots, jackets and saddles.
“This needs to stop,” Sangio instructed Richard one day during a delivery. “I do not want gifts. I do not require food. This is a waste of the people’s resources. I only wanted what was mine.”
“They don’t feel as if they’ve done enough. They are trying to repay a debt,” Richard explained.
“I will not accept further gifts. Leave them at the road, so the people understand it is pointless,” Sangio demanded.
Several months after the grapes had withered and fallen, and the vineyard was barren, Sangio looked out of his window to see that his vineyard was full of his father’s laborers, cleaning debris, turning soil, and preparing the vineyard to be seeded. Despite Sangio’s protesting, the laborers showed up every day, finding something to do in the gardens, vineyard, fields, even the cemetery.
After two weeks of this, Sangio called Richard into the foyer one evening, handing him a glass of scotch.
“I’ve decided to leave, Richard,” Sangio informed him. “I’m going stir-crazy in this house, overrun by ghosts of my family. I cannot go into town because the people will look at me w
ith fear, judgment, guilt, whatever it is. I have enough sadness that I carry on my own.”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know yet,” Sangio admitted. “I just know I can’t stay here. However, I have a proposal for you.”
“I'm listening."
“I would like you to run the vineyard. I have set up an account for you to draw payroll for yourself and the laborers.”
“They don’t want money,” Richard shook his head.
“My ancestors built this estate. They boosted the economy in this little settlement and made it the prestigious, remarkable town that it has become. I’ve lost enough. I will not lose their legacy. It’s only a matter of time before the people begin losing their homes, become unable to feed themselves, or care for the elderly and sick. The town needs my vineyard, and I may want to come back one day, so I need to know there is an estate to come back to.”
“I see.”
“Please call upon Mrs. Brock. If she still wants employment to manage the house, I would allow her to do so, but with no other staff, as there will not be residents here to tend to. Her assignments will be mostly dusting, and maintenance to keep the home prepared for my return some day. Should I decide to return I will send word ahead to prepare the home for my arrival."
“I’m sure Mrs. Brock will be eager to return to work,” Richard assured him.
“I have also transferred money to the account to build a new wine barn, large enough to add offices for you to conduct business. I do not want anyone besides Mrs. Brock and you entering my home. If I come home to find that thieves have entered it, our agreement is void. I will search every inch of every house until I retrieve my items again.”
“It will not be an issue. I will post a guard in the evenings,” assured Richard.
“Then I will make sure the funds are in the account for his salary, as well,” Sangio offered.
“How will I contact you, in the event of an emergency?” Richard questioned.
“You can leave telegrams for me with the bank that handles the business account.” After shaking hands for the last time with the last man that Sangio allowed to feel his cold skin, Sangio left the only home he had ever known, fleeing from the memories that haunted him.
Chapter 36
Sangio and Jessie talked about Sangio’s travel adventures over the past century until Jessie’s eyelids became heavy and she slowly drifted off to sleep. Sangio watched her sleep for the second time as he did the night on the cliff. He played with her ringlets, carefully twisting them around his fingers, and kissing the soft ends of her hair.
Jessie woke up the following morning to find Sangio lying still next to her with his eyes closed. Jessie leaned in close to him, waving her hands in front of his face to see if he were asleep.
“What are you doing?” Sangio asked, still not moving. Jessie startled and slipped forward onto Sangio’s chest.
“You were sleeping,” Jessie laughed, blushing as she sat herself up.
“No, I was daydreaming,” Sangio corrected. “I can’t sleep, remember?”
“Noted!”
“How about I whip you up some breakfast?” Sangio offered.
“You don’t eat!”
“Doesn’t mean a man can’t cook, does it?” Sangio pretended to be offended.
“By all means! Cook! Who am I to stand in the way of men's liberation?” she replied as she grabbed her clothes from the previous day. “I’d like to jump in the shower real quick.”
“By all means,” Sangio retorted. “But there are clean clothes in the drawers. Beth and I picked them up in town yesterday.”
“Amen!” Jessie exclaimed, not wanting to put dirty clothes back on.
Jessie walked into the kitchen to find a hot omelet on the table, loaded with fresh veggies, ham, and topped with fresh salsa and cheese, and a cold glass of orange juice next to a steaming cup of coffee.
“I’m impressed,” Jessie gave an approving nod.
“I figured you are going to need your strength today.”
“Do you have work for me?”
“Plenty! But as good as it is for me to ignore the facts,we still have to decide what to do about Dave. It’s a matter of time before he sends search crews looking for you, or your friends start wondering where you are.”
“Kill joy,” Jessie accused, only half-joking as she forced herself to swallow her breakfast. “Would you take it back, if you could?”
“You’re referring to the revenge?” he asked.
“Yeah. You’ve had years to reconsider, so would you take it back?”
“I’ve thought about this for years, and more last night than ever before, but no, I honestly don’t think I would have,” he admitted. “It’s not that I don’t feel regret, or even guilt, but I think had I not held the town accountable you would have seen a wide spread panic. They could have easily held the Salem witch trials. They took the law and the power of God and bestowed it upon themselves. Once you get a taste for that, it gets worse, and you start trying to justify what you did. There was no law or courtroom on my side. I stripped them of their power, and forced them to face what they had done. Richard Smythe, held me accountable and made me face what I had done. In the end, we all became better people. I believe if I fled that day, with Lilly or alone, I would have carried the rage of that fire from city to city, state to state, and country to country, leaving a much bigger blood trail in my path.”
“Everything really does happen for a reason,” Jessie stated.
“Maybe.” Sangio wasn’t too convinced. “I still haven’t come to terms with a reason to create a breed of bloodsucking immortals.”
“Even so, you’re nowhere near a monster. Compare yourself to a mortal who cracks his new bride’s head with a boulder?” Jessie said, bringing the conversation back around to Dave.
“Have you thought about your options?” Sangio wondered.
“To be honest, I haven’t even gotten past the anger. Every time I think about him I try to block it out, as if it’s not even a part of my life. I can’t comprehend what happened.” Jessie shook her head.
“Let’s start with logistics then. The last thing Dave knew was that he left you for dead before running like a scared doe into the woods. If he went back, he would see that you are gone. In all reality, after not hearing anything on the news or being contacted by the campground, he must realize that no one found you, so my guess is that he went back. You were still supposed to be camping for another week?”
Jessie nodded her head in agreement.
“Then my guess is that he’s back at camp, cooking up a story, wondering if you wandered off somewhere, possibly even looking for you. In the next week, he has to head back home, without his new bride, and answer some serious questions,” Sangio guessed.
“You’re right. I shipped all my belongings to his parent’s house. My parents will expect me to check in next week, when we were scheduled to be back.” Jessie thought intently for a few minutes before sharing her idea.
“We go back,” Jessie said. “I want to see if he’s there. I want to know what he’s telling people.”
“When do we leave?”
“Now!” Jessie stood up from the table. “I want to face this because it’s much easier to pretend that it didn’t happen.”
“Let’s go,” Sangio agreed, taking the car keys off of the hook.
Jessie was on edge the entire car ride, though Sangio tried entertaining her with useless information to relax her a bit.
“You’re making that up! How can a mayor make a law that it’s illegal to die in his town?” Jessie laughed.
“I swear. It’s a little town in Italy, called Falciano del Massico. They don’t have a cemetery, and they’re feuding with a nearby town about where to bury the dead. So the mayor created the law saying it’s illegal to die there, so the bodies are buried elsewhere,” Sangio chuckled.
“That’s the dumbest law I’ve ever heard. Dumber than when my dad took us to Switzerland. The h
otel manager warned us that it was against the law to flush the toilet after ten at night, and pointing to my father, informed him that it was also illegal for him to stand up while relieving himself after ten at night. We insulted the poor lady when we started laughing, but soon realized she was serious. She looked so intense that we checked the bathroom for cameras,” Jessie shared.
“Did you find any?”
“No, but I swear my dad sat down to use the bathroom the entire time we were there, just in case.”
“Well, it would do him well to know that it is illegal to pee in an elevator in Singapore,” Sangio informed her. “And Canada has an entire city that’s classified as a no-pee zone.”
“Speaking of pee! Stop making me laugh and pull in over there,” she pointed to a gas station.
Jessie exited the bathroom, laughing harder than when she left the car. “Sangio, no joke, there’s a sign in the bathroom that says it’s against the law to pee with the window open.”
“No,” Sangio shook his head. “You’re fibbing.”
“I knew you would say that.” Jessie grabbed his hand and pulled him into the women's bathroom where they both laughed hard at not only the sign, but the offensive stares from the other women coming into the bathroom as they walked out.
“They must be on drugs,” an older woman cackled, shaking her head at them, making them double over with laughter even more as they jogged back to the car.
Jessie fell asleep for the last hour of the drive, waking up to Sangio lightly tapping her leg.
“Jessica. We’re here,” he said quietly. Jessie shot up in her seat, not sure what made her jump.
Sangio paid the camp manager for three nights as they discussed on the way to camp.
“Welcome back!” he said, recognizing Sangio. “Any campsite you want. There are a lot of open ones during the week, so you will have many to pick from.”
Biting Winds Page 16
