Something you ate

(mention of crime, illness and death)

There is a presumption that vampires are aloof, solitary creatures creeping alone in the moonlight permanently on the lookout for prey, like an alley cat, but that’s not the case. For example, it’s been almost seventy years since I was someone else’s prey and not a day goes by that I don’t take time to chat with a stranger. Maybe offer some kind words to someone in an emergency room, or just shoot the breeze in a coffee house or put the world to right over a beer without the need to pounce on their neck and suck them dry. Of course, there are some out there who lack self-control. There are those who strike violently night after night just for the fun of it, but, as I have repeatedly pointed out at the monthly meetings, they are doing the rest of us a disservice. Quite frankly, they have no class.

  So, it was decided that there should be a “buddy” system. A chaperone of sorts, to educate the new recruits. Really? Can you believe that? What is this world coming to? I did make a suggestion that people should be more discerning with whom they recruit, but times are changing and pickings are becoming decidedly leaner. Which is how I came to be paired with a young man named Connor. I am now responsible for Connor. My protestation that it would be right and proper that the individual accountable for Connor being in our circle should be the “buddy” was over-ruled by our Chairman. It would appear that Connor was one of several victims of the same man and so his workload was to be distributed amongst the rest of us. If that isn’t communism, I don’t know what is.

  We spent the first few hours going over what had happened to him, what he could expect to experience and what was expected of him. He was resistant initially, as one might expect, and so I took him to one of my favourite spots for a little enlightenment.

  ‘Have you lived in San Francisco for long?’ I enquired as we wandered past the painted ladies on Steiner Street.

  ‘On and off,’ he mumbled.

  I nodded, ‘have you ever visited the Cathedral of St. Mary of Assumption?’

  ‘Not religious,’ came the sentence fragment.

  ‘The architecture is quite remarkable both inside and out. I would like to take you there,’ I said.

  ‘Whatever,’ I believe, is what he mumbled.

It was a mere twenty minute stroll to the Cathedral and I thought I should take this time to get to know him a little better. I was curious as to how Connor had encountered the man who took his life.

  ‘I was just leaving the cells when this man asked me for a light. I stopped to get some matches out my pocket and he grabbed my throat and lifted me up off the floor and dragged me down an alley,’ Connor’s voice was flat as he spoke, ‘I thought I was a dead man.’

  ‘But you aren’t dead. Not exactly,’ I added, ‘did you say you had just left jail?’

Connor sighed and nodded. I was walking through the dark empty streets with a criminal. This was most unacceptable. I was not happy about this, not one bit. Words would be had at the next meeting. Did no-one undertake a risk assessment for this excursion?

  ‘May I enquire as to the nature of your incarceration?’ I asked in as nonchalant a manner as I could muster.

  ‘That time? assaulting a cop,’ he answered.

Good grief. There had been other times? Other crimes for which he had seen jail? I thanked heaven for the fact that I no longer had an issue with hypertension. My former self would have been palpitating wildly by now. I felt my hand nostalgically reaching for the pocket where I used to keep smelling salts.

  ‘And previous times, what where they for?’ I felt I had a right to know.

  ‘Burglary. Car theft. Assault. Stuff like that,’ he replied.

  ‘Assault on whom?’ I asked tentatively, not wanting to provoke him.

  ‘You talk funny. You British?’ he asked with a lopsided grin.

  ‘Once upon a time, yes,’ I replied reflectively.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

  ‘This place suited me better,’ I answered.

He nodded and let out a knowing laugh.

  ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ I said.

  ‘You wanna know who I beat up?’ he asked, ‘people. People who piss me off. Men, women, straight, gay,’ he glanced sideways at me, ‘anyone who bugs me.’

  To my relief, when we reached the cathedral there was a late mass and the building was glowing from the inside. It was a beautiful sight. Be you atheist, agnostic or zealot, no-one could ignore the striking architecture.

  ‘Nice,’ Connor said as his head craned upward at the grey concrete reaching up to a point.

  ‘It’s even more beautiful inside,’ I stretched my arm out forward encouraging him to step inside.

  ‘Are we allowed? Wont we burn up?’ his dark eyes widened with what was the first show of any emotion I had seen from him.

  ‘I thought you weren’t religious,’ I said with a smile, ‘don’t worry, that’s one of many a myth.’

I stepped forward and pushed open the door to the sound of music gently reverberating from the organ that seemed suspended in mid-air. Voices joined the music as Connor and I stood quietly at the back. All the sounds gelled together and wafted skyward past the thousands of concrete triangles that made up the sloping ceiling. I am not ashamed to say it brought a tear to my eye.

  ‘I’m not religious. It’s all bullshit,’ the young man beside me brought me back to reality.

I had had my moment and so I was happy to leave. Outside I pushed my hands into my pockets and we wandered away from the heavenly sounds.

  ‘What was the point of that?’ Connor gruffly asked.

  ‘This is my way of demonstrating how far we can go. Like I said, there are many myths about vampires. If you are to survive you need to know the limits,’ I flashed a well-practised smile that I retained just for morons, ‘just because you don’t believe something, doesn’t mean it isn’t true,’ I continued, ‘only days ago you thought vampires were merely monsters in story books.’

He made a grunting noise that I took to be some recognition of understanding, but may have been indigestion. He walked slightly ahead of me, his shoulders hunched and his head down. He was a belligerent boy, but I was beginning to feel like I was gaining some ground.

  ‘What other myths are there?’ he asked.

  ‘Most of them, really. Garlic, crucifixes, all bunkum. All propaganda to make humans more fearful of us. Imagine, if you will, a victim surrounding themselves with garlic and brandishing a crucifix as they try to banish us to hell. It’s utter rubbish designed to give them a false sense of security.’

  ‘So you can get closer to them without being hurt,’ Connor interrupted.

My eyebrows arched at this comment; he was catching on, ‘exactly that. While they edge closer to you with their wooden sticks and smelly breath we get closer to them and then...you know,'

  Connor nodded, 'and then you strike! That’s sneaky. I like it.’

  ‘Really you only have three things to fear; daylight, holy water, and a stab to your heart will definitely be your undoing.’

  Connor stopped and turned to me, ‘so when do we get to kill someone? I’m starving.’

I felt myself bristle at the uncouth youth’s words and stifled a sigh. Violence breeds violence and it was becoming obvious that this pup needed a short leash. Connor’s wide-eyes looked past me. I followed his gaze to see a young woman across the street, head down, clip-clopping in her heels as she hurried somewhere.

  ‘No, Connor. We don’t do that,’ I said firmly.

  ‘Well, I know you don’t,’ he smirked.

My right arm instinctively stretched out across his chest as he tried to step forward. I glared at him with a fury rarely acknowledged.

  ‘We are not primitives,’ I growled.

Something bestial in my manner must have made an impression and he visibly relaxed his posture. I turned to look behind me at the empty street. The young woman would never know how close she had come to death. I was starting to feel that Connor was a liability and doubted whether his criminal instincts could be curbed.

  ‘Let’s keep going,’ I said, and thankfully he followed.

We walked a little further until we reached a neighbourhood I knew well. The Medical Centre at Mount Zion was a regular haunt of mine. I often wandered the corridors or took a seat in the café, and it was always easy to find someone to chit chat with. Medicine has changed so much since my day. New procedures, new technology, it's all fascinating. We stood side by side looking up at the huge sign above the entrance. A few people were milling around; staff catching some fresh air on a quick break, others having a crafty cigarette. But I was looking for a lady I had come to know quite well these last few weeks. Maria was usually to be found perched on the large planter outside the building, and tonight was no exception. She saw me and waved.

  ‘I’d like you to meet someone special,’ I said to Connor before striding forward to greet my new friend.

  Maria rose as we approached and greeted me with the customary hug that always made me feel a little uneasy, but it seemed to give her some comfort.

  ‘How are you this evening, my dear?’ I asked.

Her answer was always the same; a little shrug of the shoulders and a wince.

  ‘Who’s this?’ she asked, eying Connor as she returned to her perch.

  ‘A friend,’ I lied, ‘Connor this is Maria, Maria this is Connor,’ they both muttered words of greeting whilst observing each other curiously, ‘I think it may be possible that you two could help each other.’

This was not a lie.

  ‘Is that a fact?’ Maria muttered, ‘have you known each other long?’ she asked Connor.

  Connor glanced at me before answering, ‘no, not really.'

  ‘You remember, dear, that I mentioned I was going to be showing a friend around?’ I said to Maria.

  Her mouth opened slightly with a flicker of recognition and she nodded slowly, ‘yes. Yes I remember.’

  ‘Do you remember offering to assist?’ I asked.

I let the question hang in the air; no pressure was intended.

Maria’s eyes glazed over briefly and she nodded again, but with more vigour, more conviction this time.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, breathily, ‘I would be very happy to do that.’

I was aware of my body relaxing; every muscle releasing tension I hadn’t noticed creep over me during the course of the evening.

  ‘Marvellous,’ I said with a clap of my hands, ‘I shall wait here.’

Maria slipped off the stone planter and offered her arm to Connor. The young mans brows were furrowed as he looked at me.

  I nodded at him, ‘go on. This is what you have waited for all evening,’ I whispered.

Connor took hold of Maria’s arm and I sat in the space that she had occupied, still slightly warm under my buttocks. They smiled at each other as they disappeared down the side of the building into the unlit passage. Two excited hopeful smiles encouraging each other.

  It was mere moments before Connor returned wiping his bloodied mouth on his sleeve in a ghastly manner. Does no-one carry a handkerchief anymore? He was noticeably perkier than before. His smile seemed genuine rather than mocking.

  ‘Is she dead?’ I asked.

I truly did not want Maria to suffer.

Connor whooped like a gameshow contestant and punched the air.

  ‘That was a rush! ‘he proclaimed.

  ‘Connor!’ I spat, ‘Is she dead?’

 He nodded, ‘yeah, she’s toast.’

I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer for her soul. She was a lovely lady and didn’t want to suffer as she had been for so long, and would continue to do on the chemotherapy. We had a deal, and it was complete. I opened my eyes and looked at the loathsome being in front of me, grinning maniacally, his bloodlust now unleashed. But it would be brief. I watched him closely for the signs. He stared back at me, no doubt curious of my intense gaze.

And then it began. A sudden look of horror and shock swept across his Neanderthal face as the chemicals that had prolonged her life began to extinguish his. His hand grabbed at his abdomen and he lurched forward. Vomit erupted ferociously from the pit of his stomach and spewed out across the pavement. I watched as his body began to tremble and his bowels spontaneously evacuated.

  ‘What’s happening?’ he wailed.

Two nurses took a step towards us and then recoiled in disgust.

  ‘He’s drunk, he’ll be fine,’ I shouted to them.

They backed away.

  ‘This is your penance,’ I said, ‘people like you spoil it for the rest of us. You have no regard for human life, then life will have no regard for you.’

Connor staggered across the road and slumped to the ground. His muscle cells and organs were already being consumed by the harsh medication. I followed him and crept closer to where he sat in his own waste, or at least as close as I could bear.

  ‘Maria was terminally ill. The cancer was competing with the chemo. She’s at peace now. At least you achieved one good thing, albeit unintentionally.’

A slight shove pushed him out of view, but where the morning sun would find him. I left him there to wither and shrivel away. And as the day broke, his body would incinerate until just a pile of putrid clothing would remain.

At the next monthly meeting I brought up the same old complaint about the need to be more discerning and respectful to our victims. Whether this request will be heeded remains to be shown. One can only hope.