Birth of a Dark Nation (10 page)

"It tastes really fresh."

"You don't like it?"

"I do. It's good."

He held my bowl and allowed me to eat in
silence. It really was a good bowl of soup. It seemed like my
strength was returning with every helping. Before too long, the
bowl was empty.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Okay. But I'll be even better when you tell
me what the fuck you did."

He put the bowl back on his nightstand.

"Did you drug me?"

"I would never drug you, man. And how could I
drug you? What was I gonna do, put PCP in a closed bag of potato
chips?"

"Don't act like nothing happened."

"I know what happened."

"Will you stop beating around the bush and
tell me what's going on?"

He sighed.

"I showed you who I am. I'm not from
here."

"Where are you from?"

"Africa."

"Africa's a really big place."

"I am from a very small village in a remote
area of what is now Nigeria."

"Okay. So why did I see a slave ship? In
fact, why am I seeing things at all? Was I hallucinating?"

"You were not hallucinating. I…gave you that
vision. You saw a slave ship because that's how I got here."

I blinked.

"Get the fuck out of here," I laughed. He
smiled.

"I'm not joking, Justin."

"You're trying to tell me that you came to
America on a slave ship? As in the transatlantic slave trade?
Nigga, please. So how old are you supposed to be?"

"Centuries."

I laughed some more.

"This nigga… Okay, so I'm having some kind of
psychotic episode right now, clearly."

"No, you're not. Really."

"So how can you explain the savannah? With
the dead calf or whatever?"

"That was outside my village. We had to make
our first kill out in the plains as our rite of passage to
manhood."

"And the big ass statue?"

"Egypt. I've never been there, though."

"See, gotcha nigga! How are you going to be
'giving' me some memories of a place you've never been?"

"I didn't show you where I've been. I showed
you who I am."

"Dante, for the last time. Who the fuck are
you?"

He smiled again.

"My real name is Aragbaye. My people are the
Razadi."

"A…aruh…who now?"

"Say it like
this…ah-
rah
-gbye-yay."

"Ara-gbaye. Okay. And your people are
Razadi?"

"Yes."

"And your people came over here on slave
ships centuries ago and you killed and ate animals raw. But
somehow, you're really from Egypt."

"In a nutshell."

"Yeah. I'm leaving." I had a lot more energy
now and it was time to go. I don't know how long I had been
sleeping but it was already dark outside. I found my shoes and put
them on.

"Dude, it's the middle of the night. You've
been asleep for like twelve hours."

"Twelve hours?! Dante…Aragbaye…whoever you
are, what exactly did you do to me?"

I touched my bandage again and suddenly
remembered that in between the hallucinations, Dante had kissed me.
Then he bit me.

Then he sucked my blood!

"Dude! You're totally a fucking vampire!" I
exclaimed.

"I am not a vampire!"

"Oh, but you are! You bit my neck, didn't
you?"

"Jive like."

"And did you taste my blood?"

"Yeah."

"Dante, did you drink my blood?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know what they call that back in
ancient Africa, but in the United States, in this century? That's a
goddamn vampire."

He walked toward me and I threw my index
fingers in front of me in the sign of the cross. He smirked.

"What's that supposed to do, homie?"

"Hey! Stay back. The power of Christ compels
you!"

"Justin, I am not a vampire!"

"I said the power of Christ compels you!"

I ran past him and down the stairs, almost
tripping on the last few. I grabbed my bag and bounded out the
front door.

"Justin!" Dante called to me from the sloped
roof.

"You stay away!" I called back.

"Justin, it's like one o'clock in the
morning. Can you please come back inside?"

"Inside with a vampire?"

"Will you hush?" he hissed.

"Inside with a vampire?" I whispered
back.

He rolled his eyes and leapt off the top of
the building. Within a second, he was on the ground in front of
me.

"How'd you…"

"You're coming with me." He grabbed me from
the side with one arm and leaped straight up and forward to the
roof of the house. We landed gently on the roof.

"Go in that window into the attic," he
directed.

"You're going to stop talking to me any kind
of way, Dante."

"I'm sorry Justin. Can you please use that
window right there to go into the house? I want to show you
something else that will help you understand."

"That's better. Watch your fucking tone in
the future."

I climbed into the window and rolled out into
the attic. It was dark and dusty, but roomy. Boxes and trunks were
all over the place. A single, incandescent light bulb that hung
overhead struggled to illuminate the whole room by itself.

I was scared. If he bit me once, he'd
certainly do it again. I really didn't know who this guy was
anymore or what I had gotten myself in to.

"You weren't ready to see what was up here."
He found a big, black trunk, blew the dust off the top, and popped
it open. He reached inside and pulled out an old leather bag.

I walked up beside him and looked at the bag.
He gave it to me.

"Open it."

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Please?" he added. I opened up the satchel
and reached my hand inside. In my hand were a stack of papers and
cards: a 1984 DC driver's license belonging to Spencer Payne; a
1971 French passport of Michel Guillaume; a 1955 funeral program
for Bo Williams; photographs of men in zoot suits.

These men all had Dante's face. I looked at
him.

"That's really you, huh?"

"Yup. Reach further in the bag though."

I carefully put the stack to the side and
reached in the satchel again. I felt something cold and hard, like
a gun. I paused, looked at Dante, and then carefully pulled out the
heavy metal item.

Shackles.

My eyes widened. Everything he had said was
true.

"These shackles…" I stopped mid-sentence,
unable to muster the words.

"They were mine. I kept them."

"So that you would never forget." He nodded.
I couldn't say anything more for a long while. I put his shackles
back in his bag with his photos and placed it all back in the
trunk. I closed the trunk and then sat on it. He sat next to
me.

"You're not anything that I thought you
were," I said. "Your accent isn't even real. The slang you use…just
an affectation."

"It's real. You might call it 'code
switching' though."

"A couple of hundred years. That's a lot of
code."

He chuckled.

"Why did you bite me?"

"I'm sorry."

"Were you hungry?"

"No. Well, kinda. It's complicated."

"Make me understand."

"Well…it was time that you knew who I was.
And the way we do that is through intimacy. Touch. Giving you
access to my essence, my thoughts and feelings. And in that moment,
anything can happen. I didn't mean to bite you or take your blood.
But it was one of those things where I felt closer to you than I'd
ever been. And it just felt right. I'm sorry."

I was silent.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"The day we first had sex…you really wanted
me to fuck you raw. Intimacy?"

"Same principle," he explained.

I paused again.

"When you bit me, could I have died?"

"I wouldn't have killed you. But I need to be
careful. And I won't bite you without your consent again."

"Thank you," I said.

"Oh, and one more thing. That soup I gave
you? That's a family recipe. It helps you recover faster."

"It was good. And I do feel fine."

"Good."

We sat in silence for a few more moments. I
put my arm around him.

"Hey," I said.

"What up?"

I laughed.

"Code switching again, I see. Anyway…yeah,
um… I forgive you for lying to me about being a fake-me-out vampire
and almost killing me. And…I still sorta like you in spite of all
that."

He smiled.

"I'm glad. But trust and believe, I'm not a
vampire. I hope you never have to meet one."

"Wait, so…" I stopped when I felt the house
begin to rumble slightly with the sound of angry footsteps coming
up the stairs. The attic door flew open and in a blur, I was
knocked off the trunk. A force held me by the neck up against the
wall, two feet from the floor. I couldn't breathe.

"Victor, stop!"

"You just couldn't keep your damn mouth shut,
could you bruddah?" Victor hissed at Dante. His long dreadlocks
were pulled back into a tight knot at the back of his head and his
pale skin was red with fury.

"Let me tell you something, Son of Adam,"
Victor spat at me. "If you ever betray the secrets of my nation to
another living soul, I will rip your beating heart from your chest
and eat it before you die."

"Let him go, Eşusanya!" Dante shouted.

Victor dropped me to the floor and I gasped
for breath, watching Dante and Victor hiss at each other. Their
fangs emerged and elongated just below their flared lips.

This was really happening. I wasn't
dreaming.

"Don't think I won't sacrifice one to save
forty-seven, bruddah," Victor said.

"And don't think I won't sacrifice you to
save him," Dante shot back.

"Please stop," I gasped. "It's not that
deep."

Victor stepped over me and stormed back down
the stairs.

"Are you okay?" Dante asked, as he helped me
get back to my feet. I nodded, gulped, and said I'd be fine.

He pulled me into an embrace and held me
there.

"So long as I live, nothing will happen to
you. Do you hear me?"

I nodded. But I didn't believe him. I knew
that no matter what he said, my life had changed irrevocably on
that day. There was no going back now. Just then, another
frightening thought popped into my head.

"Dante…"

"Yeah?"

"I ain't got no job."

He smiled, laughed and pulled me in
tighter.

He thought I was cute. I knew he liked me. A
lot. But what he didn't seem to understand was, no, I really didn't
have a job, and whoever he really was, whether he was 500 years old
or 25, if he couldn't get me a job, all the bloodsucking in the
world wouldn't pay my rent.

For the rest of that night, though, it didn't
matter. I fell asleep in his bed again, this time wrapped in his
arms. Worries about the rent could wait until the morning.

I might not have had a job, but I had savings
and an appetite. Dante casually suggested that we hit up the Takoma
Park Farmer's Market, and I agreed. I picked him up and we were
there in no time.

The market was open on Sundays on Laurel
Avenue in downtown Takoma Park, Maryland, on one city block that
was shut down for the vendors. They called this place the Berkeley
of the East, with its hippies and head shops and retired
protestors.

Dante and I walked around the market
casually. I wasn't sure what I wanted. Dante, on the other hand,
came prepared with his matching reusable grocery bags.

"Oh, you serious, huh?" I asked him.

"Damn right," he said.

I watched in amazement as he haggled with the
farmers over the price of the produce, picking up pieces, showing
imperfections, and demanding a discount. Every time he began to
walk away, the farmer would make him a deal. By the end of the
morning, he had filled both of his bags to the brim with fresh
fruits and vegetables.

I had a bag of apples.

"That all you want?" he said.

"I mean…I guess. I usually just go to the
Safeway."

"Man, you buggin'! Always buy organic!"

"That shit is expensive."

"Man, listen. If you can't grow it yourself,
buy organic. I promise you. It's better for you and it tastes
better. All these pesticides they be putting in the food and shit
is killing us."

"Oh, okay," I said. I was not about to have a
debate with a vampire over where I purchased my food with my hard
earned, if paltry, nonprofit check. Not that I'd have any more of
them coming.

We grabbed some falafel sandwiches from a
food truck that was parked nearby and went down the street a bit to
a park.

"So, whatchu gonna do about a job?" he
asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I guess I will
start looking soon. My savings are good, though."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I got paid pretty decent for nonprofit
work, so I can get by for a little while. But I'll be looking
soon."

"You should be looking for leadership
jobs."

"Like what?"

"I think you'd be a good Executive Director
of something."

I laughed immediately.

"What could I be in charge of?"

"Anything you want!"

"Man, please…my credentials aren't that
strong."

"But you have the potential. You have the
vision. Believe that."

"Yeah, I guess. I do want to do something
more. Something different. I don't know what, though."

I finished up my sandwich and wiped my
fingers. I looked up to see Dante staring.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I just like looking at
you."

"I like looking at you, too," I said. "Let's
go home."

"Wait. Before we go, I have a confession to
make."

"I don't know if I can handle another
surprise from you, man."