My whole
existence is but a chain of blunders and personal failures, as it has been
since the moment I woke up 200 hundred years ago, at the edge of the
forest, after a night spent in the village pub of my native Valachia,
propelled by a strange urge to bite into human necks, and robbed of the
only precious thing I owned - my gold medallion with the family arms. Even
for me it was not so hard to add two and two.
A few
trials and errors and a couple of escapes from the enraged village mob
richly armed with well sharpened stakes and dung-forks taught me, that leaving
blood marks and generally behaving suspiciously is rather unwise. If vampire
skin could hold scars, they would tell stories of fierce battles of past just
like the senile pensioners were telling in rest homes. I quite enjoyed remembering those times.
I always got that warm feeling around my heart, because in those times,
when the vampires were still circled by young beautiful women, a quality super
meant to eat a noble young lady, not a random drunkard or homie.
The night
is still young. I love these moments as well. Thanks to modern
technologies and current lifestyle, when people party through the night, sleep
during the day, and earn they living doing odd jobs, the city is alive for 24hours
a day. It means also, that there is always potential supper on its way, or
an adventure, if that´s your preference.
Just like
that brunette. The one who looks like someone chases her. She dashes exactly
towards me, as if her life depended on it. Maybe she should better look in
front of her, instead of constantly glancing back over her shoulder. But for
some people it´s more important to run away than to run somewhere.
I could
have avoided the crash. I could have done just a small step to the
side. A teeny little step. But let´s be fair- how else could one meet
someone new?
I got
everything planned. In the moment of the impact I intended to catch her,
turn on my heel, spin her elegantly in the air and place her safely on the
ground with the nonchalant „Whoopsie! Why the hurry, lady?“ Sadly, something
went wrong and both of us ended on the ground. Precisely, I was on the
ground and the lady landed on me. I just want to comment that her landing
was accompanied by un-ladylike curses. To be honest, she sounded more like a
construction worker who just discovered, that his wife packed a big green salad
for his lunch and to top it all, she also forgot his favourite apple-cinnamon
muffin as snack. Still cursing she stood up, snatched the big travelling bag,
which she lost in the impact, and then, to my great surprise, she grabbed the
front of my shirt and pulled me up as well. As she touched the flesh on my
neck, I shuddered: her hands were a bit cold. The shock maybe?
“Move,
idiot,” she barked at me. “Quickly, follow me,” she said, and throwing one last
nervous glance behind her back, she towed me to the side street. I obeyed
dutifully. Why to defy the wishes of such a beautiful woman? I dare say that
our meeting left a notion, but I really didn’t expect such a quick progress.
When we
were in the dark alley and the pushed me against the wall, I almost lost
control over my teeth. Her body got yet closer to me and I leaned toward her
neck. Someone’s got dessert for dinner. For that reason I got rather startled,
when instead of the expected intimacies I felt her slipping something heavy
into my hand. It was her travelling bag. “Take good care of it. I’ll pick it up
later,” she whispered into my ear, turned away and disappeared on the other end
of the alley.
Well
then, this did not turn out quite as expected, and was over sooner than I
thought possible. What the hell just happened? I didn’t have time to really think
about it because of the two shots, which sounded too close to my liking. One
end of the alley got blocked by two bulky men that looked as if someone
fastened their heads directly onto their shoulder and used the neck just as a
minor fashion accessory. One of the hulks pointed at me a meaty finger. My gaze
automatically slid down to the bag, which I was still holding in my hand and
suddenly everything clicked into place. I’m the bait. Typical.
“He’s got
the bag, get him Vincenzo!” was not something I’d be keen on hearing from
someone, whose face obviously got a hard schooling in prison. In situations
like this there was only one possible solution- to run away immediately.
Fortunately, my legs in times of danger work as an independent unit, so I was
running the opposite direction even before my brain caught up and gave the
command to run.
It wasn’t
really hard to outrun them. Being a vampire has several advantages beside
immortality. You never need to catch your breath after running, you don’t get
exhausted and you even don’t sweat. On the down side, fish cold hands and an the
occasional whiff of fresh blood in your breath are not exactly lady killers,
but a man- beg your pardon, a vampire- has to get the work done with what he’s
got. I slowed down.
I love
parks! People tend to avoid them during dark, but that’s the point I like about
them. And I wasn´t disappointed today either. I mean, night parks are just
awesome! The dark night sky and the mellow light of the twinkling street lamps
mix just the right horror ambience for a midnight picnic. I sat down not far
from the fountain and explored the content of the strange baggage. It was a
medium sized, travelling canvas bag covered with the logos of some fashion
designer. A nice heap of money wasn’t what I was expecting to find inside, but who
was I to complain? Besides, it would be much harder to get rid of drugs. Bundle
after bundle of crispy hundred dollar bills. I ´sposse it would make several
hundred thousand. I wouldn’t dare to be more exact, as I was never very good at
math. Anyway, I could always blame it on the weak educational system in
Valachia. Anyone who could count the fingers on his hand and feet would have
been worshipped there as a genius.
In these
few second the vision of my future radically changed. I lost my last job at the
gas station yesterday after my boss found out, that my driving licence is a
scam. I should have realized sooner that after 21 years of its issue I would be
over 50. He didn’t believe me when I told him I always had a baby-face. And
with my job I also lost my little room, my chamber, my lump of clay, my refuge
from the sun and the sanctuary of my daytime sleep.
To find
another night job, which you can seek only during night is much harder that you’d
imagine. “Please come for an interview tomorrow morning. Why can’t you come
during the day? Everything alright with you, sir? You look quite pale,” are
questions suggesting, that you are too suspicious to get the job.
My life expenses
are minimal- I don’t need to eat or drink and all in all, my maintenance is very
simple. All I ever wanted was a place where I could return before sunrise and
some blood with alcohol content less than 0,5 ‰. And thanks to this bag filled
with money I can finally realize this dream of mine. Now I can live my life as I always imagined
it. People will fear me, they will respect me. And my name won’t be just
Barney, but Barnabas the Bloody (Hell yeah, it sounds even better than William
the Bloody). Exactly as it ought to be!
At this
point my conscience woke up. The one I should have lost together with my soul,
which is misleading information, by the way. The bag was not mine; you could
say it was given over to me for protection by that brunette. She trusted me. Although,
on the other hand you could say she just horribly misused me. But anyway, those
two hulks looked like they wouldn’t have any moral impediments hurting a woman,
or just anyone. All right, I will look for her, but only because she could
carry other suspicious bags, or maybe she needed more help. Saving the damsel
in distress. You can’t deny it sounds cool.
I left
the park and tried to figure out, where I should start with searching. That bar
on the other side of the street looks like a place, where a lady could flee
from her hardships. And even if she didn’t, I could just look elsewhere. This
is what’s great about Chicago.
It is full of similar places with soft lights, jazz music playing in background
and thick veil of cigarette smoke pouring out of the door with the coming and
leaving of the guests.
I settled
down directly at the bar and ordered a nice, 15 years old, imported Irish
whiskey Midleton Very Rare. From now on only the best things would do for me- I
was rich, I needn’t to skimp on such an important thing as alcohol. I breathed
in the vapours ascending from the glass. As soon as the rich woody smell with a
hint of leather tickled my nose, I felt like in heaven. This was the real
liquid gold, not diluted with haemoglobin. I enjoyed even the sight of her and
I couldn´t wait to actually savour her on my tongue. I sighted with satisfaction
and propped my elbow on the bar desk. Maybe the seductive atmosphere and my joy
from the recently found treasure were at fault that I never noticed her. When
she suddenly spoke to me: “Hey, champ, I knew I could trust you,” I almost
dropped my glass. “But if I were you, I would probably take better care of my
things,” she said, dropped on the bar chair next to me and with her leg she
pushed the canvas bag deeper under my stool. Then she nodded her head at the
barman and gestured at my glass. When the same whiskey appeared in front of
her, she smiled at me: “Be my guest.”
“How did
you find me?” I asked. The brunette raised her left hand, in which she held a
dark oblong thing with a display and little lights. A following device, I could
figure that much.
“My name
is Monica. Monica Grieve,” she introduced herself. “Barnabas,” was my short,
but carefully intonated answer. It should make clear, that I’m not against
getting more intimate, but I don’t trust her fully yet.
“Thanks a
bunch, Barney.”
Shucks,
not again! For some reason everyone who heard my name immediately started to
call me Barney. “Hi, Barney. Whassup, Barney? You mowed the lawn yet, Barney?”
And Bloody Barney sounded like someone from the Muppets and not like a
dangerous predator, which I was, in fact. What didn’t people like about
Barnabas? It was such a majestic and imposing name. Maybe things would change
if I left a trail of dead bodies and a bloody inscription on the wall:
“Barnabas the Bloody,” or “Barnabas was here.” And who would then dare to call
me Barney, haa?!
“Listen, Monica, you’ll hardly find a better guy than
me, I always help anyone who needs it, but some things are over the limit. Those
two bouncers who chased me didn’t look exactly chaste. I don’t like when
someone misuses me and then disappears,” I shot her a side glance in case she
would show some remorse. She didn’t move a muscle! “Only my hunter’s instinct
prevented me from ending up a goner in a ditch.” The instinct of a hunter, who
was I trying to kid! I was more like a frightened gazelle than a leopard, but
she didn’t need to know that. “Don’t you think I should get at least some
compensation?”
I nodded.
Ah, Monica was so beautiful. I looked deeply into her eyes. They were
fascinating, at least a C cup! “If you help me out once more, I´ll split them
with you.”
I lifted
my face just to see her lick her full lips. “And maybe you’ll get some bonus.”
These words almost sealed my fate, but somehow I managed to grasp the last bits
of reason escaping from my head with light speed.
“What’s
that money about, and anyway, where did you get it? You know, people usually don’t
walk the streets with travel bags stuffed full with hundred dollar bills and don’t
get chased by suspicious blokes with names like Vincenzo, Beppe and such.” This
question, in my opinion, was more than valid. If my head was the main prize, at
least I wanted to know why.
Monica
sipped from her whiskey and let her gaze linger in the room. Finally, when I
thought that she was remembering her whole life in her head, she turned to me.
“When I
met Salvatore, I was but a naive, young thing. Something like Dorotty, and this
was the Land of Oz, just imagine! And then I realized I was pregnant, and that
changed everything. I didn’t want my baby to grow up among thugs. And that’s
why I took that money, for my future, and for the future of my unborn child,”
said Monica and as a final gesture she caressed her flat belly, as if reassuring
her future infant. Maybe I would have been moved by her little story if I didn’t
hear something similar in TV recently, and if I didn’t notice how she managed
to empty three glasses while telling the story.
For I
while I observed her with a gaze of an immigration worker who was about to interrogate
a bunch of Mexicans close at the borders, when she burst into laugh and clapped
her hand on my shoulder.
“You can’t
get fooled so easily, right? Ok, I confess, that money is not really mine.”
“I
thought that much,” I muttered with a deadpan face.
“Still,
you don’t need to know, why I have the money and how I got it. It’s enough when
I tell you, that the former owner won’t get struck hard by this loss, because
the money doesn’t actually exist. Don’t worry, nobody saw me when I lifted them
and they don’t really know who to chase. So they went after you when they saw
the bag, because they know it. How did you outrun them, anyway?”
I put on
my most suave expression and a grin: “As I told you, I have the instinct of a
hunter...and some other hidden talents.” I leaned closed to her. “I’m a vampire.”
Monica straightened on her seat and the corner of her mouth twitched. “Ah.”
She looked me up and down with a look which could probably chop iron to slices
thinner than a sushi master the cucumber. She didn’t believe me, but I was not
offended. Remember, I was a good fellow.
“I really am. Right now I can’t prove it to, you know, I don’t want to
rouse attention. But let us find a dark place and I can show you my teeth.” Ok,
I really could spare her the mischievous smirk, but I let myself get carried
away by the atmosphere. Monica changed her expression several times and said at
least: “Ok, let’s say I believe you. But what’s my bargain in working with a
vampire? You know, I enjoy my life, I love the sun, I spend hours and hours
getting tanned on my terrace in summer. I love bronze skin.”
It was my turn to look at her doubtfully. In spite of what she just said
she looked relatively pale. But I let it be, I didn’t want to ruffle any
feathers.
“I would
of course respect your decision. In any case, I can run very fast, I see in
darkness and I’m strong. I can help you getting rid of those mafiosos. And
afterward- who knows? Maybe you decide to join me. Just imagine, we would be a
great couple. I would be like Spike and you my Buffy. I would be the Lestat to
your Louis. The Edward to your Bella.”
Monica
blinked several times. “Who?”
What was
with her? Didn’t she read any novels or watch TV? I continued a bit
uncertainly: “Dracula to your Min...” when she cut me off. “Ok, whatever,
Dracula. Now listen, I’ve got a plan.”
- - -
When I
finally got out of the bar, the moon was already high up on the sky. But even
such a late hour didn´t stop people from their busy life. I held the bag close
to my chest. Trying to arouse the so much invoked instinct of the hunter inside
me, I only managed to wake the gazelle.
Maybe I should have got a sip of blood, after all, but Monica didn’t
look very keen on cooperation, and there was not enough time to talk her into
it. But maybe after all is done I’ll find a soul mate in her. I really meant
the things I said earlier. Every qualified vampire had a woman on his side, one
who would absolutely adore and follow him. Only I wasn’t so sure if the part about
adoring and loving applied to Monica as well. It was more like calculation and
cold blooded manipulation that I saw in her eyes. On the bright side, if I
really could call myself an expert character reader, probably I would have been
well on the rich side unlike my present self.
From my
trouser pocked I fished out a paper napkin with the sketch of a map and tried
to locate myself. This time my legs needed a bit of reasoning and a few
courageous words to keep on moving to the place labelled on the map. I knew
that any kind of fear I might have felt was irrational. I couldn’t die. Well,
technically I could, but I really didn’t think those bouncers would have well
sharpened stakes at their disposals, or that they would take the trouble to
separate my head from my body. People since long stopped believing in vampires
despite of their present popularity in literature. But maybe this was the
reason. From the hunters of the night, the fearsome creatures of past - to
pomaded sighting young men who were more upset about their love to some bimbo
as about soothing their everlasting hunger- How did we end up like this?
I glanced
cautiously over my shoulder. Only few more steps! When Monica explained her
plan, it all sounded so simple and clear, but now I wasn’t so certain anymore.
In theory I wasn’t suppose to possess any moral scruples, but this whole
situation smelled like trouble. And I don’t like troubles. I avoid them like
holy water. Even if I won’t die, I am sure it will hurt a lot. I gazed into the
murky water that flowed in the wide canal flanking the pathway. In Chicago canals like these
cross almost every second block, creating an intricate net and reflecting the
city lights. You’ll find various things swimming in the water but for fish.
I
followed the stream, careful to avoid furious Chihuahuas and their frowning owners. Why
would someone walk his dog at 2
a.m? Maybe I should change my residence. Perhaps I could
go to the countryside, I am sure I’d have a lot less stress there. On the downside
I ´d have to give up my anonymity. Well, I could think about it later. I made a
mental note right to other numerous mental notes. The thought about moving
appeared just beside- what about a job in a blood bank? Do they employ in
night shifts?
Shortly I
should reach a restaurant called Mamma Leone. A big led title and the bulky
types in front of it told me I arrived at the right place. I hesitated for a
while. I really hate when someone shoots at me. Did I mention that it sounded
very simple when Monica explained it? A trifle. Monica was sure they would not
shoot, at least not immediately. They would have too many witnesses. But now,
now I wasn’t so sure about it. All of the potential witnesses looked like they
would turn away just in the right time and swear they never saw nor heard
anything. Actually, they´s swear they weren´t even there. Me too, I´d like to
be anywhere but here. No help, it was time to start out plan.
Only
thanks to my iron will I managed to detach the bag from my chest and swing it
nonchalantly across my shoulder, so it would be in a visible spot. First part
of the plan- check. From now on it could get only worse. I slowly crept up to
the restaurant. Bouncer Nr. 1 noticed me as the first one- dark hair, dark
eyes, an ugly scar on his right cheek and a murderous expression. Judging from
the fashion how he slid one hand inside his jacket and how he waved the other
at the bouncer nr.2- sandy blond with sunglasses- during night??- and bouncer
nr. 3- bald, also with sunglasses- I knew that they took the bait. They knew
exactly what was supposed to be in the bag. Probably they knew how I was
supposed to look as well. Before I managed to turn, all three of them had their
guns out and the bouncer nr. 4, Vincenzo, yelled something inside the open door
of the restaurant. I didn’t hear what, because at that time I was already
scurrying in the opposite direction. These bouncers kept close to my heels,
except for Vincenzo. They tried more than those before.
People
shirked out of our way and in this way created a nice escape route. This was a
popular part of the city, full of bars and first classed restaurants, which resulted
in masses of people. And probably half of the restaurants were Mafioso firms, I
remarked in my head. Maybe that’s why people were so quick to step out of our
way, they were used to similar chases.
When I
reached the bridge I knew I lost the game. Vincenzo and his crew almost
breathed on my neck and the other part of the bridge was blocked by two more
figures in dark suits. I stopped dead and turned on the spot. Probably I still
thought I could escape somehow.
I felt
the bullet in my chest before I heard the shot. The blast thrust me backwards
and then I was falling and falling. If the wooden railing was supposed to
prevent people from falling over, it was a sad failure. I flew through the air,
surrounded by bills that floated out of the bag, which was hurtling down next
to me. My faithful companion, right until the end. I thought that this would
look so cool in the movie. The impact on the water surface was not exactly
gentle, I could just as well hit a wall. The last thing I saw before the water
curtain closed in upon me was the bright moon and some furiously gesturing
muscle men who were obviously blaming each other. I couldn’t suppress my pity
upon the one who would have to deliver the news of the definitively lost money
to their boss.
I let the
water drift me for a while. The spot where the bullet hit me was almost healed
but it still burned like hell. I scrambled up the side of the channel. When
my effort to squeeze out as much of the
dirty and suspiciously reeking water from my clothes as possible failed, I decided to let it be and walk, wet as I
was, to the place where I was supposed to meet Monica. It was a park, of
course, and when I arrived my clothes were almost dry and I even cheered up a
bit. The wound closed up completely and the distress of night was almost
forgotten. From now on I was about to meet a bright- well, let’s say a full
moon lit- future with a beautiful woman on my side.
Naturally
I was dumbfounded when I saw the empty space at our supposed meeting place.
When I crept closer to the bushes I still believed that I was only cheated by a
foul play of shadows and that every second I would spot a familiar figure with
long brown hair. But the only thing I found was a heap of clothes on the grass
and a white envelope, which didn’t look very encouraging. The last bits of hope
vanished after I read the note that I found inside.
Barney
hone,
thousands
thanks for your help. I don’t know if you’ll read this notice, which means you
escaped, or if you simply bugged out. Anyway, you really helped me out and I am
sooo grateful to you!!! Even if we won’t see each other again.... When I
noticed you standing there on the sidewalk, I know you were heaven sent. For
reward I got you a few things to change to (I am sure you are all wet after the
bath) and something to remember me. Maybe you think I just misused you like
that, but I think even you know it wouldn’t work out between the two of us. Well,
it didn’t work 200 hundred years ago either. And by the way- I am Lestat and
you are my Louis.
Kisses
Monica.
In the
envelope I found my gold medallion, which I thought lost for 200 years. My
frustration about Monica was tinged with a desire to remember what exactly
happened that long past night in Valachia. But should I meet her again, I will
be definitely the predator and she the gazelle. I could ´t change the past, but
neither of us gets old, and I won’t neither forget nor forgive. I shouldn’t
have agreed with her plan and give her the money. All I got in exchange was a
promise, that we’ll split later. I bore
the whole dangerous load and she stayed in the bar and drank the expensive
whiskey. “You’ll let yourself get shot, fall into the river and toss a couple
of notes in the air for the show. Everyone will think you’re dead and the money
lost forever. Didn’t you say you’re immortal, or were you lying?” Bullshit, I
was supposed to get shot so she could take the money without anyone seeing her
face and asking her wrong questions. And what did I get in exchange? A few rags
and the medallion, which was mine, by the way. My life will never change, I don’t
know why I even tried to think otherwise.
I got
into my new jeans and T-shirt and slipped on the sneakers which Monica luckily
provided as well. After that I left the park. I need to leave this city.
Chicago is too small to share it with Salvatore, Vincenzo or Beppe and the last
thing I desire is another meeting of the close type with a shotgun bullet. But let’s
do it step by step. Sunrise is nigh and if I won´t find some suitable shelter I’ll
burn like a firecracker on 4th July.
I
walked down the street as I walked few days ago - with no money on my name and
no luck on my side. Oh joy.
___________________________________________________________________________________
This is an original fiction written in an attempt to answer a question, that since long troubled its authors: How come all the famous vampires are rich, beautiful and irresistibly attractive?
Planned as the first episode of the series "The Barney Chronicles"
You can find the original (slovak) version here: Nočné rendezvous
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