Vampire Dreams_Int.indd
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“Call it a sense of humor if you’d like. We just don’t take death as seriously as you humans.”
“So that’s how it is — us humans and you vampires?
What do you do when you’re not here, anyway?”
“Haven’t we covered that?”
“Oh yes, you hunt bad guys,” I said sarcastical y. “But why are you gone for so long?”
“Because, young Zoe, it takes patience, time and skill to fi nd them.”
“Sure, sure. And don’t forget the time you need to visit all the other women in their dreams.”
That was the fi rst time I heard him laugh. It was reserved and quiet, but a laugh just the same. I rather liked it. “Hardly, my dear! One human to keep track of is more than enough for this detective.”
“Wel , aren’t there other vampires or something?”
“There are.”
“So, don’t you have friends that you see sometimes?”
After a pause, he said in a more serious tone, “The others have a different philosophy. We don’t get along.” It was my 29
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turn to laugh. “Do I amuse you?” he asked with a hint of indignation.
“No, Alexander. I’m not laughing at you, at al . Only I would dream up someone who is just as pathetic and alone as myself.”
† † †
He was in the worst mood I’d ever seen him last night but, in contrast, I was feeling rather playful when I felt him lower himself onto my bed next to me. He rested on his back and looked at the ceiling. For once he was reticent.
“Is that you, Alexander?” I asked cheerily.
After a moment of silence he said dryly, “Unless you were expecting someone else.”
I smiled. “Oh sure, I was expecting that other vampire who visits me in the middle of the night. Honestly, it’s a wonder I get any sleep at all!” I was hoping to shake him out of his gloomy state.
Without turning to look at me he lifted my wrist and then dropped it. “Liar.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You still have a pulse. If another vampire visited you, you’d be dead.”
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“Oh, that’s right. They kil whomever they can get their fangs into but you only kil the ones who deserve to die. Tel me all about how you kil ed the bad guy tonight, Alexander.”
He frowned. “I’d rather not, Zoe.”
“Why? Are you afraid I can’t handle the carnage? The screams, the blood and gore?” I regretted my words as soon as they were out of my mouth.
He looked hurt. “If that’s what you’re interested in you should spend time with another vampire because if there’s anything I dislike more than having to do it, it’s bragging about it.”
I’d been a little slow in catching on but now it was obvious that something horrible had happened and there I was joking about it like it was nothing at all. He hated what he had to do and I felt badly that I’d brought it up that way. “Forgive me, Alexander. I shouldn’t talk like that.” I reached out and took his cool hand in mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“That’s okay. But can you tel me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“What was the worst thing about it?”
He continued staring at the ceiling and sighed deeply. Then he said, “It wasn’t until after I fi nished him that I saw a picture had fal en from his pocket. He had a new baby at 31
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home.” He went silent again and the reason for his dark mood and pained expression now made sense. I could feel his pain and as awful as it was, I was glad he’d told me. I nestled up close under his arm and put my arm across his chest.
“What would you have done differently if you’d known?”
I asked.
“I wouldn’t have kil ed him if that’s what you mean.”
“I know you wouldn’t have. It’s a terrible thing. I’m sorry it happened that way.”
For a time we lay there aware, perfectly still and completely silent. We shared the pain of it.
Finally he said, “Zoe?”
“What, Alexander?”
“You’re the only person I have to talk to.”
I didn’t know how to answer him so I just pressed myself a little closer.
† † †
“So, Alexander, what should we talk about tonight?”
“Tell me what you’ve been doing for three days.”
“Just going to classes.”
“What are you studying?”
“Journalism.”
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“That’s interesting. So you’re a writer. Can I read something you’ve written?”
“No. I don’t think I’m ready to show people yet.”
“Well, I’m hardly people.” I made a face at him. “Don’t be like that. I want to read your work.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because, I know you wel enough to know that you’l be bluntly honest. I’m not ready for that.”
“You shouldn’t have said that! Now I have to read it!”
He was up in a fl ash and began looking around my room, opening drawers and searching through my things.
Furious, I jumped out of bed. “Alexander! You can’t do that, it’s an invasion of privacy!”
“So, cal the police. Or better yet, write a paper on it! Of course, you’re welcome to try to stop me if you want — but good luck with that! Where do you keep your work anyway?”
I tried to stop him but it was like trying to stop a man of iron. I would have had an easier time manipulating a life-sized bronze statue. No matter how I tried grabbing his arms or pushing him away, I had zero effect on his actions.
He continued rummaging around my room like I wasn’t even there. It was infuriating!
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Then he discovered my printer. That’s where he found a ten-page article I’d written on a woman who’d started a non-profi t organization to teach art to children of low income families. I respected the woman so much, I wanted to write an article that would reveal how special she is so people would want to support her.
The vampire ceremoniously sprawled out on my bed in triumph. “What are you so worried about anyway?”
Angry and frustrated, I went back to my side of the bed, fl at on my back, crossed my arms and stared at the ceiling while he read my article. I mentally cursed him for being so thoughtless of my feelings, so arrogant and selfi sh! But my anger soon morphed into fear as he silently read my words. The words I’d poured my heart and soul into. I knew I’d have to learn to face the fact that people would be reading those and many other words I’d put to paper. But I was counting on having time to adjust to that. He was giving me an ice water dip and I didn’t like it at all. And I wasn’t liking him very much either!
I knew writing was my special cal ing in life but I was still feeling tentative about revealing that side of myself to the world — not that he was the world. He was a dead and stupid vampire. No — even less than that, he was only a dream! Stil , at that moment he was an especial y annoying dream, and a dream that could hurt me emotionally. I felt myself blush as he continued to read and turn the pages of my heart and soul. It was long minutes of emotional torture.
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When he was fi nally done reading, he just lay there on his back quietly with a neutral expression on his face. Finally, he placed my heart and soul on the nightstand next to him.
Then he rol ed toward me, took my hand and gently kissed it with his cool lips. He moved close and whispered in my ear, “Zoe, you’re bril iant.” He didn’t say anything else last night but he didn’t have to. He tenderly rested his head on my shoulder and held my hand in his. And I knew for certain that he honestly liked it and his brief response was far better than any other words he could have spoken.
† † †
Zoe put down the journal, grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and wiped the tears from her face. It was the fi rst time she had realized that after that one dream she never again worried about anyone rejecting her work. From that point forward she wrote freely and with confi dence and passion.
† † †
It was getting close to midnight but Zoe was nearing the end of the last notebook and she couldn’t bring herself to stop reading it. All of the wonderful feelings she’d ever had for Alexander had returned. There were times she hated him, loved him and laughed with him. She was seeing how her dreams had formed her life and indeed shaped her as a person. He had been her family. For all she’d previously been through with her parents and now with Michael, she 35
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continued to be the person she always was and she owed it to her dreams of Alexander.
Reading through her journals was an evolution for her and once again, the vampire was saving her from ruin. What Alexander had really done for Zoe, was he’d made her feel loved and knowing that someone, even a made-up entity, had made her feel special a few nights each week over the span of six years, was enough to make it okay for her to like herself again. And so, although the hour was late, she continued to read.
† † †
I just couldn’t believe it. Last night he was actually furious with me. He entered through my window and stood there.
“Where were you last night?” he said.
“You sound upset.”
“I am! I came and you weren’t here! I couldn’t sleep all day!
I was worried sick that something had happened to you!”
I looked at him without sympathy. “You were here last night, too? Wel that’s unusual. In six years, I don’t think you’ve ever come two nights in a row!” I teased him.
“This isn’t funny!” he said loudly.
I sighed in exasperation. “Only I could manage to upset a dream entity!”
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He frowned and seemed to get himself under better control, although he remained obstinate. “Zoe, it’s not a joke to me.” He settled in the bed next to me and crossed his arms over his chest. Then he took in a deep breath and seemed to exhale with relief.
“I’m sorry to worry you, Alexander. But as you can see, I’m perfectly okay. Do you feel better now?”
“Well at least tel me the next time, or leave me a note or something?”
“Sure. I’l leave a note right here on my pil ow so my dream doesn’t get furious with me.”
He put his hands over his face in utter frustration and said, “I can’t do this anymore! It’s driving me craz y!”
“What’s wrong, Alexander? Having a reality crisis?
Realizing you’re just a dream and not taking it so wel ?”
He turned and looked at me sadly. “As a matter of fact, I am having a reality crisis — of sorts. I’m trying to make my mind up about something. And it’s not easy. So where did you go last night?”
“A girl at work had a party. I stayed at her parents’
house down the Cape. I was just invited the other day. It’s not like I can always predict when you’l show up in my dreams, Alexander! Besides, why didn’t you just turn up there last night?”
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“Because I didn’t know where you were!”
“How could that possibly matter?” I was actually having a heated argument with a person who didn’t exist!
“Just forget about it. I’m glad you’re okay.” He’d calmed down considerably.
“I’m such a hermit, Alexander. All I do is go to work, come home and work more. Then I go to sleep and hope that I dream of you.” He seemed to like that. “But it’s pathetic.
I need a life!” He frowned. “I have no family. I miss that.”
I glanced at him sideways. “I met someone at the party.”
His eyes got cold. “His name is Michael. He’s a computer programmer. Don’t look at me like that! The truth is, he’s kind of a strange guy, but he gave me a lot of attention and it was nice. It made me realize I should be doing something with my life, building a relationship with someone. A family.
I have nobody!”
“I’m not nobody.” Now he looked hurt.
In one sense it was ironic that I found it necessary to comfort a fi gment of my imagination. But then again, it felt like the right thing to do. I rol ed over to face him and took his hand and kissed it. “It’s true, Alexander, you’re not nobody. In fact, the real truth is this — I wish more than anything . . .
that you were real so we could be our own family.” At that he smiled. Finally.
† † †
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Christina Moss
Zoe turned to the fi nal page of the last journal.
† † †
He was unusually cheerful when he arrived last night and I couldn’t wait to tel him the news.
“How are you tonight, Zoe?” he asked brightly.
“Alexander! Look!” I held up my hand and showed him the diamond ring. He looked as surprised as I had when I got it.
“Did Michael give you that?”
“Yes. Alexander! I’l fi nally have a family again!” Fat tears rol ed down my cheeks. Alexander began to cry as wel . I knew he’d be happy for me. He reached over and took my hand, then he kissed the tears from my face with his cool lips.
“Best wishes to you, my beautiful Zoe.” He managed to choke out through his own tears.
We were still and quiet for some time. Then he said, “You know, I never told you this but if you ever need me, you just need to cal me. Before you sleep, just say my name over and over and picture my face. And I’l come fi nd you. Will you remember that? Wil you write it in your journal?”
He sounded so serious, and it was such a shift from the exuberant mood he was in when he arrived, but I was in heaven because I was engaged. “Oh, Alexander, you know I always write down my dreams.”
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I must have been really tired last night. After that I just felt grey and fel asleep.
† † †
Zoe cried as she closed her journal. That last conversation now held much more meaning than it had when she wrote it. She had had no way of knowing it would be the last night she’d dream of Alexander.
She got up, dispersed the embers, and secured the screen in place. Then she began getting ready for bed and as she did she refl ected on something the whole while. By the time she’d climbed into bed she’d come to a decision. She turned out the light, put her head to the pillow and softly called Alexander’s name over and over, and thought only of his face, until she fell asleep.
† † †
The vampire leaned against the green railing along the Charles River on the Cambridge side. He liked that view of the Boston skyline. It was where he went when he had to think, although this time he didn’t want to think. But how could he stop thinking about someone who just wouldn’t leave his thoughts? What he really wanted to understand was why, after fi ve painful years of not seeing Zoe, he just couldn’t stop thinking of her.
Not a night had passed when he didn’t feel tempted to check up on her, maybe just look at her and not even enter her dreams or speak to her. But he knew it to be wrong.
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Why was that night so much worse than most? Maybe because it was her birthday; maybe it was because he was obsessed with thoughts of her; or maybe it was because on that night her face and scent were exceptionally vivid in his mind.
Of course, he’d brought it all on himself. It was to be his self-infl icted punishment for foolishly getting involved — or so he had it fi gured.
He walked along the river looking into the distance and indulged himself in more memories of various nights with Zoe. He knew he was being weak, but it was pleasant.
Then he h
eard something! “Alexander, I need you.
Alexander. Alexander. Alexander.” It was Zoe and she was calling him!
He fl ew back to his car faster than humanly possible, but for once, he didn’t care if someone had witnessed how fast he moved and he didn’t care about blowing his identity. The vampire didn’t care about much of anything right then — just that his girl was calling him and he hadn’t seen her in fi ve long years. He jumped into the car and headed for Winchester, ignoring speed limits. Lights began fl ashing behind him and a siren was blaring. Alexander blanketed the cop with a grey cloud and the chase ended.
He fi nally reached her house, jumped out, scaled the wall and entered through her bedroom window. He stopped to look at Zoe sleeping peacefully and all alone. It was a tremendous 41
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relief to see that she wasn’t hurt. He inhaled her pleasant scent.
Then the vampire blanketed the girl with a cloud of grey, settled on her bed next to her, and entered her dreams.
“Zoe, I’m here! Are you all right?”
She rolled over to face him. “Alexander, you heard me.”
He felt guilty for thinking she looked more beautiful than ever. “Where’s Michael?” he asked.
“He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
Zoe lifted her left hand to show him her bare fi nger.
“Did he hurt you?” the vampire asked.
“No, it was drugs. I didn’t know. Then when I found out, it was too late.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“I can’t believe you’ve come back.” She began to cry.
Alexander reached over and took her hand. “Zoe, even when you cry, you’re beautiful,” he said. “You’re twenty-nine today.”
“You remembered my birthday,” she said through soggy tears.
“I remembered you on every birthday. I’ve thought of you every day since I saw you last. Zoe?” he asked softly. “Tell me how you feel about me.”
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