“Scott, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but…”
But what? “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but screw you?” “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but, oh hell, actually I did?” “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but pass the sriracha?” Laura did try searching for the words to conclude that sentence without doing further damage but came to the realization that the situation was well beyond repair. An awkward silence came over them. But then, anything with Scott was awkward. Especially right now.
“So, how’s everything at church?” Laura asked. You never could stand those awkward silences for too long, could you? For some reason, Scott was thinking he’d won something. He thought the silent game was a real thing, too.
“Church? Oh yeah, church is great. Dandy. You know, you could come back anytime. Some of the members miss you down there.”
“Seriously?”
“What? Yes, seriously. That wasn’t a joke.”
Laura shook her head. “No. Thanks, Scott, but no. That was your church, remember? I’m sure they’ve all taken your side and are judging me for the slutty bitch whore I obviously am.”
Well, you said it, not me. “No! Not at all, Laura! You know those guys. They’re good folks, not the judgmental kind at all. In fact, I’ve made it a point to tell people not to think of you too harshly.” Scott hoped that would score some points with her but knew it most likely wouldn’t.
“Yeah, I know, I know, but let’s face it: the last time I was there, Pastor Larry gave a sermon preaching about how God hates divorce. Almost like saying that God hates me.”
Way to miss the point! “No, Laura. That’s not what he was saying at all. But you know, maybe if you’d actually listened to the whole sermon, you’d have come to a different conclusion. Pastor Larry is not that boring.”
“Whatever. Hey, did you see on the Internet that they found some vampire graves in eastern Europe?”
Uh, wait. What? Scott knew Laura better than she thought he did. And he knew that a sudden change in subject meant that she was losing the argument. She was losing the argument! Scotty scores! Uh, wait. I don’t think that was the opening for a victory lap. “Vampire graves? Seriously?” Scott was amazed. Saying stupid stuff was his standard social skill. Now Laura was doing it. Scott was glad it was her for a change.
“Oh yeah, it’s on the Internet.”
And the Internet is a bastion of truth. Scott mused about how Laura had never exactly been his intellectual equal, a perverse pride growing within him. He told himself to knock it off. Pride never seemed to be an issue for him before…well, as far as he knew.
“Well, you like history and stuff like that. I thought you’d find it interesting.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Get it? Bite? Ahem. Okay. Where were these graves found? Please, tell me more.” Scott did hope that it wasn’t obvious he was only feigning interest. Vampires weren’t even his favorite monsters. He was more a Godzilla kind of guy.
“Yeah, in Bulgaria, or somewhere like that. They found a skeleton with an iron stake right where its heart should have been! Isn’t that creepy?”
“Oh yeah. Well, you know, various cultures have different burial practices. And then, you had people accused of things like witchcraft and vampirism and other bizarre occult-like practices, which in reality were highly misunderstood—things like birth defects and deformities, mental illness, medical practices like using herbs and natural remedies that may have come across like witch’s brews, things that could actually be quite easily explained.”
“You know, Scott, for a guy who supposedly relies on faith, you sure have an analytical mind,” Laura said. It was not a compliment, but he took it as such. For a few seconds, anyway.
“So? I believe in spiritual things. I believe in God and Jesus and all that. But come on! Vampires? Werewolves? Bigfoot? UFOs? I can have faith in some things, but other things—”
“Geez. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Look, Laura, people of faith have a hard-enough time explaining why we believe the things we believe without needing to deal with the crazy stuff. The fringe, tinfoil-hat stuff. Those things make great fairy tales. But they have no place in the real world, which, as I have found out, is no fairy tale.”
The awkward silence returned as Scott continued to slurp his pad thai and Laura chopsticked a piece of broccoli into her mouth. She did have a lovely mouth, even when it was chewing. And had peanut sauce dripping from it. Scott wanted so much to kiss that mouth. Especially now with the peanut sauce.
“You know, I never thought of vampires as being fairy-tale creatures,” Laura said. “Even after reading those stupid teen vampire romance novels. Romantic? Maybe, but not fairy tale. More like nightmare.”
“Yeah, nightmare.” Scott had to wonder if Laura was actually speaking of their marriage. So you think it was a nightmare? It wasn’t no party for me either, sister! But Scott simply nodded in agreement, squeezed more sriracha onto his pad thai, and continued eating. Go along to get along, he told himself.
After that awkward experience, Scott sat in his few-years-old Ford Mustang, gray in color, much like the skies that day, the rains not relenting. Although the car was purchased used, it was in pretty good condition. He got a really good deal on it, using some of the lessons he remembered from his father. “Never buy right there. Make them an offer, and if they don’t bite, walk away. Another car will come along. Just be patient,” the old man would tell him. God, he missed his father. And he knew exactly what his father would tell him right now: “So she doesn’t want you anymore. It’s her damned loss. You’re better off without her if she’s gonna be that way.” Still, two major losses in just a couple years is too many, especially for an emotionally needy guy like Scott. Yeah, that went well, he told himself. Oh well, it was good pad thai, at least.
Scott put his cell phone to his ear. “Oh, hey, Larry,” he said. “You wanted me to call you after lunch, so here I am.”
“Hey, Scott!” Pastor Larry Parker said. “So? How did it go?”
“Oh, the pad thai was great!”
“No. No, the other thing.”
“What other…oh. You mean Laura, right?”
“Yes, Scott, I mean Laura. How’d that go?”
“Oh, it wasn’t a total disaster.”
“Well, that’s…good.”
“Yeah, I think there’s…some real hope there!”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. Oh, who am I kidding, Larry? She’s never coming back.”
“Now, Scott, you don’t know that—”
“Yeah, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do!”
“No, you…Scott, we’re not going to play that game. What did she say to you?”
“She said I was emotionally distant, I hate myself, and I like to play the martyr. Oh, and something about vampires, too.”
“Vampires? That’s…random.”
“Tell me about it. She said I’m not honest. Am I not honest, Larry? Tell me, do I have a problem with honesty?”
“You are a very honest person. I mean that.”
“Thank you! My point exactly.”
“But, Scott, there are other forms of honesty.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. Emotional honesty, for one. I think that’s what she meant. You have a problem being intimate.”
“Oh, believe me, Larry, I have no problem with intimacy. Me and little Scott, we got it goin’ on; know what I’m saying?”
“That’s, um…a little more information than I needed. And now I will never be able to get that image out of my head. Thanks, Scott.”
“Well, you’re the one who brought it up.”
“That’s not the kind of intimacy I meant. I meant emotional intimacy. Vulnerability. That’s the kind of honesty I meant, Scott.”
“So now I’m too honest?”
“Let me ask you something: Do you think Laura might be right about how you feel about yourself? Because, and I don’t mean to
rub salt in your wounds, I think she may have a point.”
“Larry, you know me fairly well. You know that I’ve never really believed in myself, my abilities. I thought that when I met Laura, she had all my answers. That finally things would change for me. Well, I was wrong. Things didn’t change. I’m still the same old loser I always have been.”
“At last, now you’re being honest.”
“Honest about me being a loser? Hey, wait—”
“No, honest with your feelings. But, Scott, you need to know that you are not a loser. Look at the things you’ve done. You remember that canned-food drive last year? That was your idea, and you ran it. And as a result, we kept the local food pantries and homeless shelters stocked during the winter. You are a kind and gentle soul. You know you are. You are perfect the way God made you, just as you are.”
Scott sure didn’t feel perfect. A perfect fool, maybe. “Ah, maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I know that.”
“Besides, Scott,” the pastor continued, “Laura is a human being, just like you. No better, no worse. To expect her to mend your wounds may have been a bit much for her to bear. And really, it wasn’t her job.”
Larry was right, of course. Could Scott have been that much of a fool? Could Mr. Honesty really have been so blind? “So, you think that may be part of why she left?”
“I don’t know. She won’t talk to me. I’d have to talk with her to find out where her head is at.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that. I think you kind of ticked her off with that sermon on divorce.”
“Me? I didn’t mean to. I was just relaying what Scripture says on the topic.”
“Hey, don’t blame me! I didn’t take it that way. I got your point. But Laura is just as clueless as ever—”
“Ah-ha! Caught you!”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Anyway, I’ve got to head to work. I’ll consider what you’ve said, Larry, really I will. Thanks for being there and for being a friend.”
“Yeah, and know that you’re loved. God loves you, and I love you, too, you big hunk of a man. I mean that in a manly, brotherly way, of course.”
Scott chuckled. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s what you meant.”
The dark-haired beauty stomped into the wood-paneled library and almost into Jack’s smirking face. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked with a very slight Irish lilt. Her long black curly hair cascaded down her graceful neck, almost reaching her small but perfectly proportioned posterior, and her long black dress covered almost the entirety of her tall yet slender body.
“Oh, hey, Liz,” Jack drawled. “Say, you look absolutely fantastic today, but then, you always do—”
“Do not call me Liz,” she spat. “And spare me the flattery. It disgusts me. Now, answer the question.”
Jack was never good at sincerity, so he didn’t even try. “Okay, okay! Elizabeth. There. Is that better? Happy now?”
“Of course I’m not happy. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jack raised his hands in mock submission. “You give one vampire a little power and a neat title, and she goes all Gestapo on your ass. What am I doing here? Last I checked, I was still a member here. Unless I’ve received my pink slip and no one told me.”
“Yes, Jack, you are a member of the House. Still. Despite the fact that you have received warnings for your various extracurricular activities on numerous occasions. Despite the fact that you are under investigation by my office. Despite the fact that Father has called for discipline as well. You remember Father? The head of this House?”
“Father? That petty bureaucrat? Hey, Elizabeth, let me ask you something: is Father even a vampire? Have you ever seen him drain someone? ’Cause I don’t know, he strikes me as being kinda boring. Vampires are supposed to be badass! But Father, he’s just…well…an ass.”
Elizabeth could not believe his contempt. “How dare you speak thus of your superiors! Why, if I was allowed, I would stake you right here, right now, for your insolence.”
Jack stepped even closer to Elizabeth, their bodies just inches apart. “Are you sure about that, Beth? Are you really so cheesed off about my attitude—or is it more personal than that?”
“Oh, you are something else. A real piece of work. What happened between us back then has nothing—I mean nothing—to do with this. And do not call me Beth.”
“Oh, I do apologize. But we could make it personal again.”
“A real piece of work. Jack, your vampiric seduction techniques don’t work on me. I mean, hello, I’m a vampire myself.”
Jack stepped away from the vampiress. “Yeah, you know, I often forget that.”
“Enough of this. What are you doing here? What are you doing with those?” She pointed toward an old, worn brown leather-bound book of large proportions sitting open on the nearby credenza.
“Oh, that? It’s called a book. You read it, text goes from left to right, forming sentences…”
Elizabeth’s eyes rolled. “What book, exactly? What are you reading it for?”
“For fun? Education? You know, Father encourages us to educate ourselves, to become familiar with all manner of ancient texts. Father would approve.”
“Father would approve of what?” Came another voice, a male voice, not loud, not emotional, almost curious. The man who spoke those words appeared from the shadows of the adjacent hall.
Both Elizabeth and Jack bowed in respect. “Father, Jack is back,” she said.
“I can see that,” the tall, thin, light-skinned black man replied. “Welcome, Jack. I am glad you have decided to return to us.”
“Ah, Father. As welcoming as always. I am humbled by your kindness.”
Father’s expression, which had been perfectly flat, allowed a slight frown. “Spare me. My mercy is what allows you to even exist. My position as head of this House compels me to accept all approved members, and you still are approved. For all intents and purposes. But do not make the mistake of confusing my kindness, as you put it, for weakness.”
“Father, I spoke out of turn. I beg forgiveness. As you noted, I am under the authority of this House, and I fully submit to it.”
Elizabeth glared at Jack. Father’s emotions were more difficult to read. “I can smell the contempt on you. It’s rather overwhelming.”
“Whoa, you can smell contempt? Really? Contempt smelling? Is this a new thing? Can all vampires get this new sense, or is this just for you?”
Elizabeth was about to burst out in a tirade but noticed Father’s raised hand motioning for her to keep quiet. “I will mind you to show the respect to myself, and to this House, that we are due. I will mind you that you exist at our discretion. And I will mind you to watch your tongue.”
Jack strolled over to Father. “And I will mind you to remember those who helped you in times past. Who helped get you your position and power. You say I owe you respect and submission? Yeah, sure. But what do you owe me? Because you know I am owed. If not for what I have done, then for what I know.”
Jack and Father locked eyes, a deep rage within both vampires. Deep, but tempered. Jack knew it was time to dial it down, unless he wanted to provoke the wrath of both Father and Elizabeth. That might be a fun brawl, he thought, but he knew Elizabeth’s skill. She was the scariest of the three. So he slowly backed down and walked away. Father’s and Elizabeth’s eyes were still locked on him as he walked out of the library, down the hall, and out the door.
“I don’t need to ask you to keep an eye on him, do I?” Father asked.
“Enforcement has had him on our radar for a while. Perhaps we should turn up the heat.”
“No, I would not recommend that. We must be cautious in our dealings with him. I am sure you can handle this with the utmost discretion?”
“Yes, Father, as you will.”
Both vampires then left the room. Elizabeth, in an uncharacteristic moment of neglect, did not stop to look at the musty old book Jack had been rea
ding. The ancient tome was open to a page with the illustration of a box made of wood with distinctive carvings, most notably of two birds facing each other. The text was unintelligible, in an unknown, long dead language.
CHAPTER 3
Scott arrived early, at 2:45 p.m., as usual. He entered Simeon College’s Technology Center through the maroon metal door marked Employees Only, as usual. He pleasantly greeted the regular IT staff, as usual. Then he took his lunch box into the staff lunch room, where he placed his pastrami and Swiss sandwich in the staff refrigerator. He didn’t mark the sandwich bag this time. He had been a bit wary after some employee thefts but let his security concerns slide a bit after considering how ludicrous it all was. Really, who steals a premade salad or leftover pizza? Now, that’s pathetic. If you get botulism, well, that’s your fault, lunch room thief! He then took the empty lunch box with him into the cubicle, where he met the IT administrative assistant.
“Oh, hi, Scott,” the bob-haired slightly plump blonde said. “Been a crazy day. We had a network outage that affected connections in most of the academic buildings. About a hundred really pissed-off profs calling in. And then there were the thesis students worried about losing their work. You know, you wouldn’t be so worried if you backed up your work and quit flooding your hard drive with crap. But some kids just don’t get it. Oh well. Hard lesson to learn, I guess.”
“Oh, great. Well, I hope that’s all been ironed out.”
Robin Thorsen rose from the ergonomic black office chair and walked toward the staff lunch room, speaking as she went. “Yeah, we had to route most of the connections to the temporary servers over in the Blackwood building.” A bold move. Those temporary servers had been sitting there for ages—which, in IT lingo, was a few months. The outgoing IT director had purchased them last minute, a move most upper administrators had viewed as wasteful. Well, they’d been proven wrong. Scott respected Bill Epstein, viewing him as one of the more brilliant directors Simeon’s IT department had ever had. The new director, Al Kohler, was (and let me phrase this as kindly as I am able) a bit of a martinet and micromanager. Scott, always trying to please, did everything he could to keep Al’s wrath at bay. This may have made him look like a bit of a brownnoser to the rest of the department, and they wouldn’t have been far off the truth there. But Scott really needed this job. He didn’t have the confidence or motivation to get another one. So again, it was go along to get along.
Suburban Vampire: A Tale of the Human Condition—With Vampires Page 2
