by P. J. Day
“Head south onto Pacific Coast Highway for two miles,” said the voice navigation, in a monotone, robotic-like female voice. But soothing, calming.
“That was easy,” she said. She looked back at the seal and me. “You guys okay? How is she doing?”
“She’s okay. Not moving too much; this has me a bit concerned. Let’s head on out.”
Holly made a quick U-turn and headed south on PCH. Her shift from second gear to third wasn’t the smoothest driving I had ever seen, but she didn’t drive the car as if she was going to grind the transmission into tiny little metallic pieces either.
Inside the blanket, the sea lion’s left flipper began smacking the passenger seat in a lethargic motion. The poor fellow still had some life left. I noticed the blanket was beginning to blot with blood near the area of the wound. Luckily, the blood wasn’t leaking through the blanket and onto the leather seating. Even if it did, it’s tough to stain black leather. I could also smell the animal’s blood as if it were an inch from my nostrils. However, it didn’t smell all that appealing.
It had a sulfuric aroma to it, kind of like rotten eggs. Either infection was setting in, or the sea lion’s diet, which was probably all squid and oysters, metabolized itself into a rank smell that only mermaid vampires could appreciate. If they exist, Disney or Pixar have a remote possibility of capturing some of that coveted Twilight audience.
We arrived at the marine mammal care center. As expected, no one was around to take in our fine, flippered friend, wrapped in a blanket. It was a small building with multiple layers of fencing that acted as holding pens for all of the injured sea mammals that the center took in. It was tempting to break in and leave the sea lion in one of the pens, but by this point, I could no longer show any lack of effort for Holly’s benefit. I had already gone above and beyond the call of duty. We both had no choice but to wait in the car. I decided to make a call and leave a message, hoping a volunteer would hear it and arrive earlier than usual.
Holly turned her head toward the sea lion and me in the back seat. She still had a concerned look on her face, despite the valiant effort so far to comfort the animal.
“I’m going to call the center again and leave a message; hopefully by some miracle, a volunteer will hear it and come to the center before sunrise,” I said.
“Please, I don’t want this animal dying in the backseat of your car,” she said, as she leaned over and caressed the sea lion’s fur on its exposed neck.
“Hello, we are currently parked outside your center with an injured sea lion. It’s in pretty bad shape, bleeding from what looks like a severe shark bite. Flesh is missing. There’s a lot of blood. I don’t know how long it has before it passes away. Send someone immediately or call me. Thank you.” I left my phone number at the end of my message and hung up.
The interior of my car was beginning to smell pretty awful. It was a miserable combination of seawater and um, sea lion shit. I opened the backseat door on my side and asked Holly to open the other side, so we could get some air.
“Jack, I feel so bad... you’ll be able to get the smell out, right? I’ll pay someone to make sure your car smells good as new,” Holly said, as she opened the passenger side door.
Though I appreciated Holly’s offer, I had to let her know what was really important:
“All that is important is that this little guy makes it through okay.”
Not entirely true, I was pretty pissed off about my car. The new car smell was gone forever, and who knew if the upholstery was a complete loss? However, I had no choice but to see this through and somehow, retain a sense of heroic dignity. For Holly’s sake.
It was 2 a.m. and there was still no callback from anyone working at the center. I was terribly worried that the sun would rise as we waited for the center to open. I was thinking of varying exit strategies besides turning to dust before Holly’s eyes. Should I propose taking the sea lion to my house and put it in my bathtub? How about lying to Holly and telling her that I was a former veterinarian who worked at SeaWorld, and I could patch up Sir Flipperson here, and return him to the ocean after I pretended to stitch up the poor fellow up with my home sewing kit? Nah. No more lies. I had learned over the years that the more lies I told, the easier it was to get tripped up later. I was running out of time and ways to get out of this predicament. The predicament was no longer the injured sea lion. It was the Earth’s rotation. I couldn’t possibly ask Holly to drop me off at home with the sea lion in my car.
I reached over the driver seat and touched Holly on the shoulder. I connected with her eyes and said, “Holly, I have a confession to make.”
“Wow, what is it, Jack?” she asked, seemingly taken aback at my sudden display of vulnerability.
“There is a reason I have been fighting this whole situation. I need you to take me home immediately. Keep the car for tonight. Return it after you are done taking care of our friend,” I said, with a hint of delicate urgency.
“Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong? Are you married?” Holly asked. She covered her mouth with her hand. She was surprised at my sudden request.
“No, it’s not that, not at all. I have severe light sensitivity issues. Doctors think I’m allergic to the sun. Please don’t think I’m some sort of freak. I have to get home before sunrise. It’s imperative to my existence.”
Holly’s eyes, which initially showed fear and angst, gave way to a more subdued look of understanding and empathy. She then jumped over the driver’s seat and hugged me over my neck.
“Jack, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You are risking your health over this animal. You are such a kind person.”
She continued to hug me as her torso remained suspended over the blanketed sea lion in the back seat. She then looked me straight in my eyes and showed off another one of her determined, intense stares that she had exhibited so proudly tonight.
“I’ll take you home. I promise to return your car. I’ll take the bus home or call my best friend to pick me up from the animal clinic. Don’t you worry!”
“No. It’s fine. Truthfully, I work nights. I didn’t have to work tonight. Just return it tomorrow evening.”
As soon as I gave my reassurance to Holly, that it was okay to take my car, my phone rang.
“Yes, hello?” I asked.
“Hello, sir, did you call saying you have a sea lion at the center right now?” asked the caller.
“Yes, we are here parked in front of your building. We picked up the sea lion at Abalone Shoreline Beach; I think a big shark bit it. It’s bleeding badly.”
I looked at Holly. Her face registered with delight in excited anticipation that our rescue operation was headed for major success.
“You know, you should have never picked up that seal. It’s illegal to take marine life anywhere, even with the best intentions in mind,” said the volunteer. Holly could hear the young man’s voice lecturing me over the phone.
“I’m sorry, we couldn’t bear letting this poor animal die in pain,” I said.
“Fine, I’ll be over in ten minutes,” the volunteer promised.
“Thank you; we’ll be waiting.” I hung up the phone and let out a humongous sigh of relief. Holly looked at me and put her hands on my shoulders. Her cold hands sent a shiver down my spine as they brushed both sides of my neck. “Jack, thank you. You are a good... good... good man.”
“You’re a good person, too, Holly. You showed me tonight what a big heart you have,” I said, as I touched the sea lion, making sure it was still alive.
“Is there any way I can make this up to you... you know... for putting you and your car through all this?” Holly asked, caressing the side of my face.
I thought about it. It certainly crossed my mind. However, I’m not that much of a scoundrel. I know that, tonight, she’d put me through what seemed like an episode of some kind of Animal Planet rescue reality show, but I kind of wanted to see what more could emerge from our first date before it ended abruptly with me fleeing the sunrise into my plac
e, with only seconds to spare from spontaneous combustion.
“How about a second date? A conventional one. Without a beach and more like indoors. With a waiter, perhaps?” I asked.
Holly sat back in the passenger’s seat while still facing me. She paused and rolled her eyes to the side of her sockets.
“Hmmm... Friday night, again?” she asked.
“Of course, Friday is fine.”
“Steakhouse?” she implored.
“Steak sounds fine. I know the perfect place.”
We continued to wait in the car. My car smelled like a container full of spoiled chum and fishy feces, but it was all worth it. I got a second date with Holly, and I didn’t risk the possibility of frying in the morning light either.
Chapter Five
As much as Samuel and I have discussed my wants, needs, and the things I enjoy, he still doesn’t know too much about how I make a living.
I work for a software company based out of Munich, named Schnell Link. They develop software that lets genetic researchers make predictions on various outcomes, based off of customized sequences from completed genomes. It’s pretty cutting edge technology, and they pay me pretty decent money to work nights out of my home in L.A., leading a marketing team that primarily does business in Asia and its emergent markets.
Schnell has made a significant push trying to capture some of the Asian market. China, at this very moment, has hundreds of labs spread throughout the country, trying to find out which genes do what in order to fight disease, develop insect-resistant crops, and other top secret projects, that for all I know, are probably creating human-panda hybrids that can win gold medals in Olympic gymnastic competitions. All I know is that China is up to something with all the money they have put into genetic engineering, and I’m lucky to reap the rewards by being financially stable. I am also fortunate that they haven’t heard of our kind, because they wouldn’t hesitate to use me as a guinea pig to create some kind of vampire super army that would strain any veterans’ health budget.
How am I so sure they have never seen or heard of the real-life existence of vampires? I have yet to run into an Asian vampire. I have run into black vampires, Hispanic vampires, and of course, plenty of white vampires. Vampirism is like sickle cell anemia, Tay-Sachs, and cystic fibrosis, in terms of a disease that only affects a prominent genetic subset of the population or race, and it disproportionately affects white people more than any group. It’s a genetic mutation that originated in Europe, primarily in the Eastern/Central European mountainous region, and may also be predominant in males. Culturally speaking, it’s no surprise to see why the movie Blacula bombed, or why 99 percent of vampire fiction is based on young, good-looking, Caucasian males. We are real, but we are mostly white, male, and young. Which over the past 200 years, without much debate, has been a well-off demographic, and it partly explains why there are so many light-skinned, upper middle class vampires.
Think about it. A black or Hispanic vampire wouldn’t fare well due to the socio-economic circumstances involving minorities over the past 100 years. The institutionalized lack of upward mobility in minority communities has made it extremely hard for a non-Caucasian vampire to insulate themselves by being economically independent.
However, things have changed recently, and I know for a fact that there are some hardy vampires out there who don’t look like me and are ready to assimilate into mainstream society, while having the same hopes and dreams that I do. I’m going to find them, and we are going to start our own internet message board. One that is going to have the ability to have our own little avatars, where I can finally put up my kick-ass design of a Viking vampire that can fly, and snatch unsuspecting runabouts with his hammer full of mead.
We’ll have meetups to run 5Ks, and midnight bake-offs to see who makes the best blood pudding. I will bring the worlds’ vampires together and create a political action committee so we can lobby for a clean and safe blood bank in exchange for the secrets of longevity so that all humans can experience the unnecessary, miserable, and everlasting lifespan of a vampire.
Okay, I feel as if I’m getting a bit carried away, but you’ll see; it will happen, and I’ll be the Harvey Milk of vampires, but with enough good fortune that I won’t meet the same tragic end.
In the meantime, I still feel extremely lonely, and I hope with all this new technology that connects everyone all around the world in an instant... sooner or later, all of our kind will eventually meet up again.
Time to take a break. My work is beginning to suffer a little bit. Let’s see if I have any new emails...
To Mr. Jack King
Director of Marketing Asia/Pacific Region
March 12, 2011
I hope this request isn’t on short notice. After meeting with the board of directors and our client Guangzhou Jiyin Engineering, we request that you leave for Hong Kong immediately. Our client isn’t satisfied with the latest software update that is being used for the production of one of their fungal-resistant grain strains. Two of our best engineers from our East Coast location will accompany you and meet you in Hong Kong on Tuesday, March 15th. Your flight and accommodations have already been situated. Please make any necessary arrangements that address your extended absence. We expect that you and the best marketing associate from your team, along with our engineers, will be able to reassure our client as soon as possible without straining our continued business relationship, and resolve any technical issue or grievance without further dissatisfaction. Good luck, and please, report to me on a daily basis. I want all the details and briefings of every single one of your meetings, so I can report the information to the board. Thank you, and if there are any further requests, let me know. Please don’t forget to review all the details of your accommodations and itinerary, which are all attached to this email.
President
Rald Gerber
Schnell Link Inc.
Really? Fuckin’ hell! I have told Mr.Gerber that any sort of request for me to travel must be for the utmost emergency.
What do I mean by an emergency? If the company is ever on the verge of destruction, either by a natural disaster, the potential loss of our largest client—Guangzhou is only one of many in China—or if we are being investigated for any impropriety by a government agency which one of our subsidiaries is governed by.
I have told the board several times that my light sensitivity, if not treated properly, will result in a serious allergic reaction that could result in my death. I know many of you are asking, how come I was hired for such a prestigious position, despite my requests that would cause any large corporation to flinch at the prospect of hiring me?
Well, five years ago I provided Schnell a lead. I knew Schnell was the closest of all gen-tech companies out there in finding a way to harness the anti-coagulant properties of vampire bat saliva for stroke patients, as well as reversing the process and causing coagulation in a matter of seconds if needed, to treat wounds or cause clotting for a variety of other reasons.
Schnell was able to reproduce the protein that can create the process of anti-coagulation to super-coagulation in a matter of seconds through their software model, but whenever this work was outsourced to a pharmaceutical company, it could never be duplicated in a real-time laboratory environment.
Five years ago, I was looking for work after the blood bank I worked for as a night technician was found to be tainted with Hepatitis B and was forced to shut down by the CDC. I managed to get my hands on Mr. Gerber’s email address that was posted in an article he wrote for a highly respected scientific journal, and sent him an email, telling him of a scientist named Dr. Wilfredo Nunez, who resided in Bogota. I explained that Dr. Nunez was able to reverse the anti-coagulant properties of vampire bat saliva, and in turn, created a way that instantaneously clots blood within seconds.
The research at the time was funded by Colombian missionary groups, who were in charge of leper colonies spread throughout the jungles of South America. The problem was that
I knew about all of this in 1907 and didn’t want to tip Gerber off about my actual age. I saw first hand the research payoff on one leper whose arm was on the verge of being amputated, and then two days later, it was healed as if it were new.
I created a notebook that detailed all of Dr. Nunez’ work, and with his permission, I was allowed to take it back with me to the States on the condition that I get his work published in a peer-reviewed medical journal. I took the information with me, but it was all lost one night in Panama, thanks to Howdy Doody.
I heard a couple years later that the research laboratory where Dr. Nunez did all his work was closed, due to rumors that Dr. Nunez was doing all this work for vampires and Satan. Word spread from villages in Panama that they saw me feeding on a dead body, which was kind of true; however, I did not kill that person or even feed on him. I just took a taste. He was already dead, and the man died from dengue fever. There is no way in hell I would have feasted on someone who died at the hands of another diseased bloodsucker.
Word traveled fast of my description, and everyone knew someone fitting the description of the legendary vampire of Panama worked for Dr. Nunez for a couple of months in 1907. I told Mr. Gerber that I found out about all this research in the Bogota National Archives and that they would probably find Dr. Nunez’s work in the mission responsible for taking care of this particular leper colony. Mr. Gerber said if he were to find Dr. Nunez’s work, and it was extremely beneficial to Schnell Link, I would be given substantial compensation or any job opening of my choosing. I chose the Asian Pacific Director of Marketing position because it would fit with my schedule, and I also would be able to finagle my way into getting this chemical compound called Zeopirudin.
The development of Zeopirudin was a win-win for Schnell, as it was an anti-coagulant that successfully bonded with a pro-coagulant through a patented protein bond. The pro-coagulation was then developed to be timed release. Its primary use was to treat stroke victims, noninvasive arterial cleaning, and other postoperative procedures that required immediate healing. With this chemical in my hand, I could now feed and close up my host’s wounds without scarring or discomfort; it was Viagra for vampires. I could make love and feed all at the same time; it was potential symbiosis with the ultimate goal of assimilation.
