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Sunday, July 4, 2021

 

 

AN END TO BOREDOM

 

 

 

The club was called The Red Door.  The décor was retro eighties, complete with sparkling disco ball hung in the middle of a large dance floor.  The floor itself pulsated with lighting from beneath.  The colors garish and the music loud.  Everything pulsed with yesteryear’s glamor and excess.

 

Lorenzo had not been there before but he liked it.  Nevertheless he could not shrug his usual boredom.  It seemed like yesterday that he had frequented clubs like this one.  Although he looked to be in his early thirties he was much older – an ancient creature.  He hadn’t been sitting at the bar more than a few minutes before the bartender brought him another drink. “I’m not ready for another,” he said.

 

The blond shirtless bartender smiled.  “Someone just bought it for you.”  He nodded toward a group of young guys sitting across the room.  One of them was looking at Lorenzo and, with a dazzling smile, tipped his glass.  Lorenzo smiled back and mouthed a silent thank you.

 

A few minutes later the young man approached.  “Hey,” he said, “how’s it going?  I’m Mike.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Mike.  And thanks for the drink.”

 

“Sure. I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave before I had a chance to come say hello.”

 

“Well, thanks!  I wasn’t planning on leaving though.  I like this place.  It reminds me of my past.”

 

Mike laughed.  “Oh yeah you remember the seventies and eighties -- back when you were a bar-hopping infant?”

 

Lorenzo raised his eyebrows. “I’m older than you think.”

 

“I’d say you’re in your late twenties.  I’d also say you don’t get out in the sun much.”

 

“No, I’m pretty much a night owl.  What about you?  Do you come here often?”

 

Mike nodded.  “Yep, I come here a lot and then I go up the street to The Stuck Pig.  You ever been there?”

 

“Yes,” Lorenzo lied. “Once or twice.

 

“Cool,” Mike said, “You want to walk over there later? But, oh fuck, I love this song!  Let’s dance.”

 

“I’m not much of a dancer.”

 

Mike laughed again.  “That’s okay you can just stand there and move your hips, right?”

 

Lorenzo smiled despite himself.  He liked this kid’s enthusiasm and self-confidence.  “Sure, why not?”

 

Lorenzo was not accustomed to being surprised or interested in most people but Mike was different. 

 

They stayed on the dance floor through several songs then, gradually moved toward the place they started.  The club had gotten crowded.  “Let’s walk over to the other place,” Mike said.  “It’s bigger and we can sit down over there.”

 

As they walked they fell into easy conversation.  Lorenzo was surprised at Mikes intellect and interests.  He had assumed he was just a party boy like the rest but it was obvious that he was wrong.  Mike was very interesting and knowledgeable.    The conversation continued as they sat at a table by themselves.  Mike ordered drinks and shots and even after they’d had several his mental acuity did not diminish as quickly as Lorenzo expected it to.

 

“Where are you from?” Mike asked. “I detect an accent.”

 

Although Lorenzo hadn’t lived in Greece since ancient times he said, “I’m Greek.”

 

“Wow!” Mike exclaimed.  “That’s fucking awesome!”

 

Lorenzo laughed at Mike’s reaction.  “Why is it awesome?”

 

“I’m a student of antiquity.  Well, not really.  It’s just a private passion.  But Greece!”  And from there he directed the conversation toward the ancient world.  He knew a lot about ancient Greek religion as opposed to mere popular mythology.

 

“How do you know so much about these things?” Lorenzo asked.

 

“Jane Ellen Harrison and Camille Paglia,” he answered.  But his speech was becoming impaired and Lorenzo offered to drive him home or hail a cab.

 

“I only live a few blocks away,” Mike slurred.  “Let’s walk and I hope you’ll come in so we can continue our conversation.  Come up and have a drink.”

 

“I think you’ve had enough.”

 

“Yes,” Mike laughed.  “That’s the trouble with alcohol.  I don’t want the fun to end but more would make me sick.”

 

“Or comatose more like.”

 

Lorenzo was amazed at Mike’s apartment.  It wasn’t at all what he expected

 

There were books everywhere, not just on bookshelves but stacked all around the place.  The art on the walls was dazzling and there was a well-stocked minibar in one corner of the living room.

 

Mike led Lorenzo to his bedroom.  Then he clumsily turned and pulled Lorenzo into an embrace.  He kissed him and they stood there kissing for a few seconds.  Finally Lorenzo put his hands on Mike’s chest and gently pushed him away.  “Another time,” he said.

 

Mike protested.  “But why?  I want to make love.”

 

“And I want the same.  But not tonight.  I’ll call or text tomorrow.”

 

“Fine.  Be that way.”

 

Lorenzo chuckled and within minutes Mike was lying on his bed snoring.  He doesn’t know the danger he is in, Lorenzo thought.  He’s too trusting.  Lorenzo wouldn’t think of dispatching such a beautiful boy but how easily he could.  Instead he left, locking the door behind him.

 

By then it was almost dawn and he had to get home.  He felt the familiar sluggishness that would overtake him once the sun spread its light over the land.  It was a pity this nocturnal existence which he was damned to endure through countless years.  Down at dawn, up again at dusk.

 

He knew he couldn’t have a real relationship with this child of light he’d left peacefully on the bed, but he couldn’t help the glimmer of hope he felt.  He smiled as he prepared to die for the day.  Mike’s enthusiasm for life could be addictive.  It had been so very long since Lorenzo had been smitten.

 

Mike awoke with only a slight hangover.  He vaguely remembered Lorenzo leaving and now he wondered if it was because he was drunk or that Lorenzo just wasn’t into him.  But what a stud, Mike thought.  The guy is just so intense – like hot coals under cool ash.  Mike couldn’t wait to see him again.  It was nearly noon.  Not too early to text the guy.

 

--Good morning. Are you up?—

 

He waited for an answer.  Nothing.  Was he still sleeping, busy or just not interested in continuing their pseudo intellectual dance?  Luke texted again every hour, feeling more and more like a pathetic loser.  The last thing he wanted Lorenzo to think was that he was some needy guy with no life.  Just when he had given up on an getting an answer he got a text.

--Sorry.  I’ve been really busy and had my phone off.—

Mike breathed a sigh of relief Then another text popped up.

--I’d like to see you tonight.  How about dinner?  I can come by and pick you up around 7:00.—

--Sounds great.  I’ll be ready.—

 

They went to a pizza place, ordered pizza and beer.  “Well,” Lorenzo said, “should we continue talking about Greece and comparative religion?  Maybe we should switch to astrophysics or microbiology.”

Mike chuckled.  “How about Abnormal psyche or the history of sex?”

“Ooo, that sounds interesting!”

But their conversation was light.  Mike told Lorenzo about his life, his family, school, his philosophy.  Mike had plenty of ribald jokes that kept Lorenzo smiling.  All too new for Lorenzo whose days had been dismal and dark for so long.  Mike had a sort of rolling splendor about him that kept Lorenzo rapt and amazed.  Mike emitted his own light and it was stunning.  Lorenzo hadn’t had that much fun in decades and he was thoroughly enchanted.  Strong personalities carry others in their wake and Mike was one of those individuals that carried the sort of energy that Lorenzo was hungry for.

Lorenzo hadn’t fed in days though he barely touched his pizza.  Human food was edible but tasted bland and dead.  Still, he felt a mixture of hunger and lust toward Mike that was confusing and annoying all at once.  He wondered if his capacity for love was diminished by the hunger that ruled his existence.    He only had nights to offer Mike.  What possible future could there be when one person’s days were numbered while the other was fated to roam the world for eternity?

Later that night they’d gone back to Mike’s place and Mike pressed his warm mouth to Lorenzo’s soft but cold lips.  There was an instant spark which ignited in both men.  This lead to the bedroom where they shared one blanket and made love like animals.  As much as he wanted to bite Mike’s neck, Lorenzo felt he could easily survive on kisses and rolling like thunder in his arms.

 

Over the next few weeks Mike tried to make dates with Lorenzo during daylight hours.  Lorenzo always had an excuse.  Much to Mike’s dismay and growing annoyance Lorenzo only answered calls or texts after dark.  It was weird.  While it was true that they spend most nights together, Lorenzo was always gone when Mike awoke in the morning.  It was also odd that Lorenzo said he didn’t work yet always had money, nice clothes and classy wheels.

 

Lorenzo however, basked in Mike’s light.  He was oblivious to heat and cold but he could feel the warmth of Mike’s flesh and he reveled in it.  When he awoke each dusk he couldn’t wait to see Mike again.

 

Finally Mike’s annoyance and irritation got the better of him and he became angry.  He demanded they meet during the day.  Lorenzo told him straight out that he could never meet him during daylight hours.  “I’m a creature of the night.  You’ll have to be content with that or we can’t see each other.”

 

“But why?” Mike pleaded.  “Why are you being so stubborn?”

 


“Look, my dear, when I say I’m a creature of the night it is not a figure of speech.  I truly cannot come out into the light of day.”

 

“That’s ridiculous!  You’re not a vampire.”

 

Lorenzo only raised his eyebrows but did not smile or say more.

Mike’s smile dropped.  “This isn’t a joke.”

“No.  It isn’t.”

 

 

Lorenzo would be taking a big chance by telling Mike his secret.   At any rate it wasn’t working.  Mike, like most people, did not have the capacity or the willingness to believe in the supernatural.  What could Lorenzo do to convince him? Furthermore did Lorenzo really want to convince him?  Was it necessary? If he wanted the relationship to continue it would be.  Lorenzo was at a crossroad and he had to decide sooner or later.  If he did decide to make Mike believe, how would he do it?  Then there was the question of whether Mike would want to join him in this wretched night walking existence.  id Lorenzo even want a companion and would it be fair to Mike to ask?

 

Lorenzo hadn’t had such a conundrum for years.  He had simply existed without question or plan.  He looked at Mike with a feeble smile. “Why don’t we go out and have fun and talk about this later?”

 

“Fine,” Mike said petulantly. “Let’s have a drink first.”

 

 

The only way to convince Mike was to show some small preternatural power.  One which could not be denied or ignored.  But what power and how?  Happily he didn’t have to spend much time deciding.

 

They stood on Mike’s balcony admiring the full moon as they sipped their drinks.  It was an exceptionally large moon in the clear night sky.  Mike walked closer to Lorenzo and tripped on a throw rug laid out close to the rail.  He fell directly on Lorenzo who had his back to Mike.  In an instant of clarity Lorenzo decided to go with the momentum of the fall and easily flipped over the balcony.  It was a three story fall!  Mike screamed, “no!”  He moaned as he looked over the rail and saw Lorenzo sprawled out on the cement below.  He scrambled for his phone and called 911 as he ran toward the elevator.

 

When he arrived on the first floor he dashed to Lorenzo.  A small group of people stood around.  Strangely there was no blood and just as Mike knelt down beside him, Lorenzo stirred.  He’d been knocked out for sure but impossibly had survived the fall!  Mike was speechless as Lorenzo stood and brushed off the knees of his pants.  Then he found his voice. “Lorenzo!  Oh my god!  Sit down, the paramedics are on their way.”

 

“Come on,” Lorenzo said taking Mike’s arm and pulling him away.  “I’m fine.  I’ll be fine.”

 

When they had evaded the little crowd Lorenzo smiled at Mike.  “Now, you see?”

 

Mike’s eyes were big as saucers.  “Oh my god!  See what?”

 

“I’m not like everyone else am I?  I tried to tell you.  I’m a child of the night.  I can’t die or be hurt easily.  And we can’t see each other in the daylight.”

 

“But oh my . . .”

 

“Stop saying that, Mike.  God has nothing to do with it.”

 

 

It took Mike some time to calm down and for the truth to sink in.  Lorenzo was indeed something.  But Mike had a resilient and effervescent personality and it wasn’t long before the questions poured from him. How was it possible? How old was Lorenzo?  Did he kill for blood? Were there other immortals?

 

Lorenzo answered as much as he could but in truth he did not have all the answers and it had been years since he’d stopped questioning the unanswerable.  “What would it take for me to become like you?” Mike asked.

 

Lorenzo was afraid Mike might ask that very question.  He was not anxious to entertain the thought.  “It would take a lethal bite and a short death,” he said.  “but I wouldn’t recommend it.  It is a lonely existence and filled with boredom.”

 

“You haven’t been bored with me have you?”

 

“No.  But you’re an exception to the rule.  You are an exceptional person.  You’re a bright light and I’d hate to see you darkened.  I’d hate to see your enthusiasm snuffed out by immortality.”

 

“But if I was with you we wouldn’t be bored.  If you love me . . .”

 

“Love?” Lorenzo interrupted.  “I’m not sure I’m capable of that.  And besides, love depends on time and shared experience.  We’ve only just begun.”

 

While it is true that infatuation can end as fast as it started, it could just as easily grow.  But it had been so long since Lorenzo had experienced anything approaching love, he doubted that he’d ever feel such an emotion again.

 

“I might love you,” Mike said.  “I love being with you and that is saying something.”

 

“Yes,” Lorenzo chuckled.  “Yes, that is saying something.”

 

 

As fall began, the days grew shorter and the nights longer.  Lorenzo and Mike were able to visit museums early in the evening.  They were able to go to movies and plays, spend leisurely meals out and wander malls.  As time passed Lorenzo’s fondness for Mike bloomed into something deep and he wondered if it approached love.  He began to wonder if perhaps a companion was something that he wanted.  Mike’s desire to join him did not diminish and Lorenzo had decided that if this continued to Christmas and the new year he would seriously consider the change.

 

By the time Thanksgiving came around both of them were still enamored.  Mike was sure it was love and Lorenzo was nearly convinced as well.  Lorenzo’s long brooding existence was changing by degree and he felt infatuation was indeed approaching love.  He finally came to a decision to bring Mike over.

 

He bought a ring and after he’d woken from his daily slumber, he showered, dressed, grabbed the ring and headed out.  He was practically giddy with anticipation of Mike’s reaction.  When he arrived at Mike’s apartment he unlocked the door with the key Mike had given him and entered.

 

Lorenzo threw his coat over a chair and looked for Mike.  Then he saw him on the balcony.  He was on a stool stringing Christmas lights along the eave. 

 

Mike looked so adorable up there getting into the Christmas spirit.  Lorenzo walked out onto the balcony.  Mike did not see him or even know Lorenzo was in the apartment.  He was on his tiptoes trying to nail in the last hook when Lorenzo said his name.  Mike jumped in fright and knocked over the stepstool.  As quick as Lorenzo saw what was happening, Mike tumbled over the rail and fell surely to his death.

 

“No!” Lorenzo shouted.  “No, no!”  He ran down the stairs with preternatural speed to Mike’s lifeless body stretched out on the snow.  “No, please God, no!”  This was all wrong.  So wrong.  He’d planned on turning Mike this very night and then, tragedy.  Was fate standing in the way?

 

There Mike was in the same spot Lorenzo himself had landed months ago.  Without thinking clearly Lorenzo knelt weeping and bit hard into Mike’s neck.  Then he started CPPR to pump the venom through Mike’s limp body.  He didn’t know if it would work but he had to do something.

 

No group surrounded them this time.  The night was quiet.  Everything was muffled by the recent snowfall.  Lorenzo gently picked up Mike’s body and carried it upstairs.  He laid Mike on the bed.  There was blood but the heart had stopped pumping so it only oozed slowly.

 

Lorenzo stayed with the corpse for two days and two nights.  Nothing happened and Lorenzo’s thin hope began to unravel.  But on the third night when Lorenzo awoke there was a change.  Although Mike still lie there dead to the world the gash on his head had begun to heal!  That was a good sign and Lorenzo laughed out loud.

 

Mike’s eyes opened in the wee hours.  Mike said nothing as Lorenzo talked to him gently.  Finally Mike arose from the bed and went to sit on the sofa.  He was still silent as a statue.  For seven nights Lorenzo stayed with Mike but Mike did not utter a word.  It was as if every spark had left him.  Mike may as well have been a zombie and Lorenzo wracked his brain about what to do.  Mike’s light was gone.  His personality extinguished. 

 

Lorenzo had plenty of time to think as he sat in Mike’s apartment.  No one called or came to check on Mike.  At least not in the evenings.  He checked Mike’s cell and there were no messages.  But then one early evening there was a knock at the door.  Mike got up and walked toward the door.  Lorenzo stayed seated on the sofa where he’d been watching TV.  He decided to simply sit back and watch what happened.  Mike opened the door and Lorenzo heard a woman’s voice.  “Mike!  Are you okay?  Were have you been?  Everyone at work is wondering what’s going on with you!”

 

Mike finally spoke.  “I’m fine.  I’ve been sick.”

 

“But, why didn’t you call in and let someone know?  I’m sure Mr. Emerson will let you come back to work once he knows you’ve been sick.  How sick are you?”

 

“I’m fine,” he repeated.  “Thanks for coming by.” 

 

Mike started to close the door but the woman stuck her foot in.  “But what about work, Mike?  Can I tell them that you’re sick and that you’ll be coming back?”

 

“I won’t be coming back,” he said flatly.  The woman moved her foot out of the door.  “Goodbye now.”

 

Lorenzo was astounded by the exchange.  Mike could speak and he could make sense.  Lorenzo was beginning to wonder if Mike would ever be functional again.

 

Mike came back into the room and sat on a chair.  “I’m hungry,” he said.  “What do I eat?”

 

“Let me get my coat,” Lorenzo answered.  “I’ll show you.”

 

 

Mike was indeed like a zombie.  He did not flinch at taking blood from a stranger.  He asked no questions.  He was completely disinterested in the world around him.  To Lorenzo’s great sadness, Mike was not the same person he had been in life.  He led him back to the apartment and said, “Mike, you can’t live here anymore.  Without a job how will you pay for the apartment?  You’ll have to move in with me.”

 

Mike shrugged and looked at the TV.  There was an inane sit-com playing but Mike did not react to it at all.  He just was.  He had no  life, no personality.  He was a non-person.  The gift wrapped ring still sat on the coffee table and Mike had not once asked about it.  He had not questioned anything.  Lorenzo finally understood.  He’d come to the conclusion that Mike would never be the young man he was.  That he would be a dead weight around Lorenzo’s neck forever.

 

 

Years later the men could be seen walking down the street of any given city.  There was no conversation, no smiles, no laughter.  They were just two beings existing without hope.  The older man was bored to tears.

 

 

 

Saturday, July 19, 2014

STRATEGIES



 

Tanya M. Rose had accepted her fate long ago. She had mastered the occasional transformations which had been the bane of her existence through most of her childhood and teenage years. By her thirtieth birthday she had finally embraced the power that was hers.

She=d married, had a child and lived a relatively uneventful life, occupied mainly by her family -- the joys of her son=s birthdays, holidays and accomplishments in school and sports.. Recently she discovered she was pregnant. With this second pregnancy there was some anxiety and trepidation. Two reasons -- safety of the child and her troubled marriage.

Now she wondered how, for instance, had her curse not been transferred to her son? Would this one be the same? Was her lot genetic or some sort of otherworldly magic? She had not made the change the first time. All nine months had gone smoothly. She knew that anger and rage had the potential to spontaneously begin the transformation, but she had been content, calm and happy as the foetus had grown into an infant. Must have been shear luck since the thought had not occurred to her then. Now, with this new one, she worried. Her relationship with her husband had lately been hurtful and strained -- on the verge, open and festering. She would have to use every trick she knew to remain serene, to avoid any paroxysms of anger. Resentment and dislike were dangerous enough but she could not allow herself to dwell on her problems with her increasingly infuriating spouse. She just didn=t dare do anything to interfere.



It might be a good idea to get away -- take a few days to herself. It couldn't be far -- no farther than she could drive in a few hours. Living on the Olympic Peninsula didn't give her many inspiring options. She didn't want to go to Seattle as that was not the place for contemplation or decision making. The towns along the bay and the coast were boring. She could go to Forks or La Push or just enter the Olympic national forest and hike. She could camp out for a night -- that would be good. A wise woman would not do such a thing on her own, but Tanya was no ordinary woman and had good reason not to be afraid of the wilderness, and then end that was what she decided on.

 

She walked toward the woods. It was early. Everything was soggy from the torrent of rain the night before. But the sky was clear, it was going to be a beautiful sunny day. She didn't mind that her shoes and pant legs were soaked as she tramped through the long wet grasses. Anyone living in the Pacific Northwest couldn't mind rain, dew, puddles or mud too much. Life couldn't be put on hold because of the weather. A person wouldn't get anything done if they waited for the sunshine.

On the drive up she was preoccupied with the unpleasant track her marriage was taking. Hopefully nature would soon take her attention and give her some peace. She would work out her strategy in the dusk by a campfire. There was just too much at stake to be unprepared. This time around she would settle for sad and hurt and disappointment -- getting mad or, God forbid, giving way to rage wouldn't be in her best interest.

As she entered the pines she felt the nudging of the panther inside her. The big cat wanted out -- wanted to yawn and stretch, run, chase, kill something. Nevertheless, her protective instinct was stronger. She didn't want to lose the baby or give it her curse. It was true that she wasn't absolutely sure that a brief change this early on would hurt the tiny thing, but taking a chance wasn't acceptable.


How astonishing idiotic it would sound, she thought, if she said something aloud like, "I'm pregnant and I can't let myself turn into a cougar until after I give birth." She laughed out loud. What a sick joke that part of her life was! Her human and feline sides were aware of each other but kept apart. Normally Tanya compartmentalized, truly separated, the two aspects of her existence. Now she couldn=t afford to ignore or forget the beast inside



 


She sat by the fire and watched the flames. So much for working out how to deal with her conundrum. There simply was no sure-fire answer and there wasn=t anything more to think about. She just had to be strong and mentally alert and avoid questioning or arguing with her husband. AThat=s it Mrs. Rose. Suck it up and deal with it.@ So, she ate one of the sandwiches she=d brought, lay down by the fire, covered herself with a blanket and closed her eyes.

Something woke her. It was early, probably a couple hours before dawn. She sat up. She felt eyes on her. The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end. Something or someone was prowling around in the blackness of the trees. The fire had died to hot embers under cool ash. She sat dead still, listening. Bear, lone wolf, badger, wolverine? Maybe it was only a racoon or something small which caught the scent of the sandwich crusts she stupidly threw aside last night. Then there was movement and something very large stepped gingerly through the huge tree trunks. Her initial fright had subsided. Now she felt irritated and annoyed that an animal would dare to come so close. She yelled out Aget!@



She could barely make out the form but it was definitely a large mountain lion. It dropped something on the ground and then retreated. She did not move until she heard its footsteps flee up the forested hill. One of the few senses she shared with her feline avatar was her sense of smell. She looked over at the little package the big cat had dropped. She could smell the blood and she could smell the urine also in the area where the cat had sprayed. So it was a male. Marking its territory? She approached the little bundle. It was rabbit. The blood was fresh.


A gift. AHow strange,@ she thought. AIs he like me B one of my kind?@ Tanya had never met another werecat or whatever she was and a feeling of alarm seized her. She wasn=t sure how to react. She decided she had better leave the area at once. She tried to think of some reason why the male was following her. Some of the feline attributes that she shared with her other self were weird. She only came into estrus twice a year and, obviously, she wasn=t now. She was pregnant. But what else could attract a male and compel him to offer a gift of meat?

Out of nowhere a sudden flashback from her teenage years. She used to walk down to a meadow with a book sometimes. A few times, much to her dismay and disgust, she had awoken with the taste of blood on her tongue. Usually it was accompanied by a bit of fur or a few feathers in her mouth or stuck to her lips. As an adult her panther, cougar, whatever did not eat what it caught anymore. Its pleasure was to stalk and chase B never to eat the prey. Even though her cat=s brain did not work the same way that her human brain, she was more in tune when it was loose. It did not think in sentences but it was not compelled to eat even when it was hungry B something human restrained it.

She buried the rabbit under a foot of soil and leaves. She rolled up her blanket, stuffed it into her pack and headed out the way she had come.

TO BE CONTINUED