The Blind Vampire Hunter (21 page)

“Yes, please.” So he did. By now I could
normally find my way out on my own, but for some reason I just felt
too mentally numb to do so this time.

On the way home, Diana had lots of questions,
but I kept to my guns that I should wait until after the hospital
tests to begin to worry her. I kept to my guns until we got home.
After she put the baby to bed for a nap, she walked into the
bedroom and announced, “Spill it. What did the doctor have to
say?”

I spilled the beans. I told her of the
doctor’s suspicions that I had cancer, but we would not know more
until after I went to a hospital for additional body scans. With a
forced tone of joviality, I made a point to mention the doc’s
comment on not going out looking for a coffin. That may have been a
mistake. By the catch in her breathing, I don’t think she was
persuaded to stay calm until after the tests.

I did share the stage IV diagnoses with Eric,
and my concerns about the hellish treatments. When I added my
thoughts of putting off the treatment, he could not pass up making
me feel better by reminding me that his mother died of brain tumors
as a result of her stage IV melanoma. When he started getting a bit
too graphic as to what I might have to look forward to, I cut him
off so I could try to get some sleep between now and the hospital
test results.

I failed—another sleepless night.

Chapter
Nineteen

Nuts

Paperwork, it never ends. There was a quiet
presence in the office doorway, almost like that of a ninja (Have I
seen too many of these imports?)
He’d better have a really good
reason for interrupting or...

Looking up from my paperwork, I said, “Mr.
Masterson, this must be a first, you coming to my office instead of
requesting I see you in your plush owner’s office.” Isabella had
choked down the first impulse to give the intruder a good verbal
beating for interrupting her paperwork.
Who are you kidding?
You’d be tempted to give the intruder a raise for intruding your
paperwork grief. But this is the boss; this has to be bad
news.

He disrupted her musings...

“Remember the plumbing work in the ladies’
room, right next to my office? All that banging is giving me a
headache.”

“Would you like to use my office? I can get
back to this paperwork after you are done here.”

“Thank you, but I will be leaving soon. First
I have some business to discuss with you.”

I just know this is going to be bad
news...

“The other owners and I are getting very
concerned over the recurring police presence required here during
the showing of the import movies.” Pausing to let that sink in, he
continued, “Don’t get me wrong. You are doing a great managing job.
You’re handling these flare-ups very well, and we realize the
problem is the violent nature of the imported movies. There has
been a constant need for police presence AND the homicide
department due to a number of killings around the theatre. Some of
these homicides seem to have been customers who were killed after
watching one of these imported movies here. Well, I thought I had
to warn you that there is some discussion.”

Just then the door crashed open.

Jeff started in, but when he saw the boss
with her boss, he visibly froze, possibly pondering if he just
blundered into losing his job.

“Well, what is it, boy?” Mr. Masterson
orders.

“We have nuts in the theatre,” Jeff almost
stammers.

“Nuts?” Mr. Masterson asks, perplexed.

Isabella explained, “Nuts. This is a code for
a customer using or flashing nunchucks in the theatre.” She turned
her attention back to Jeff, “Red nuts?”

“I’m afraid so,” Jeff answered.

Getting into action by rushing out from
behind the desk, “911 has been called?”

“Yes, ma’am, Ben is placing the call
now.”

With Mr. Masterson’s concerns put aside for
now, Isabella rushed out of the office with Jeff in front for about
a pace or two, then she quickly left him behind.

As she rushed into the theatre, she saw a
full blown mob scene with a group trying to rush not one, but two
“nuts.” One was currently in the act of smacking a would-be hero in
the side of the head. As Isabella ran in and saw what was
happening, the would-be hero dropped like so much lumber piling up
at the feet of the “nuts.” Currently the second “nut” was content
in just standing by, waving his nunchucks around and around his
body, showing off.

Using her best enthrall voice, she commanded,
“This stops now.”

On her command, the mob scene turned into a
freeze frame. This freeze frame, which included both “nuts,” ceased
their dangerous actions.

The more dangerous “nut,” the one who wasn’t
just standing around showing off, challenged her, “You want some of
this?” The mob backed off with the relief of seeing some authority
intervening into this hazardous situation.

Deliberately keeping eye contact with both
“nuts,” she approached slowly like a snake considering its next
meal, slowly, cautiously, but in command. The two just stood
watching her every move as she kept moving in, showing by her
approach that she was the one in command.

The enthralled silence was interrupted by the
audible intrusion of sirens from forthcoming law enforcement, EMS
or both.

With the help of the audible distraction, the
enthrall ended. The lumber jack of bloody bodies jumped over his
log pile of downed bodies, with the full intent of making Isabella
yet another (dead?) log for his pile. He brought his weapon down on
her head.

Isabella, timing it right, just stepped to
the side. She reached out and grabbed the weapon on its downward
arc, originally intended to cleave her head in two. The action of
Isabella grabbing the weapon with one hand surprised the nut. With
her supernatural quickness it was quite easy to pull the weapon out
of the “nuts” grasp. With the “nut” frozen in shock it was even
easier work to karate chop him into unconsciousness, more lumber
for the floor.

With a war yell the second “nut” announces
his intent to avenge his fellow nut. Again Isabella moves to the
side as the weapon comes down on nothing. This unexpected
follow-through, making contact with nothing, leaves the “nut” off
balance. It was no effort for Isabella to trip his legs out from
under him. As he becomes yet more lumber for the floor, Isabella
gives him a careful kick to the head meant to put him into
dreamland, not to kill. She has no qualms about killing this
trouble to her evening’s movie events, but the law might frown on
her over-doing their job. When she heard the sound of rushing feet
from her blind side, she turns ready for battle only to find Jeff
rushing to her side, excitedly proclaiming in his youthful
exuberance, “Miss Báthory, how is your hand? Is it broken? Is it
all right? Do you need EMS to look at your hand?”

“Jeff, calm down. My hand is just fine. (on
second thought), well, it is a little painful but I am sure it is
still in one piece.”

“But I saw that nunchuck smack into the palm
of your hand. How is it your hand isn’t broken from such an
impact?”

“Simple trick, really. As the nunchuck closed
on my hand I pulled my hand back while grabbing the weapon, hence
lessening the blow.” This explanation seemed to quiet Jeff’s
questioning mind and leaves him in further awe of his boss.

With the danger subdued, Isabella looked over
Jeff’s shoulder to see Mr. Masterson standing at the theatre
doorway. By the look on his face, this job is more likely deader
than the two “nuts” she just put in dreamland.

The sirens proclaimed the onset of help just
keep getting closer.
Are they screaming out the end of my
employment?

Chapter
Twenty

A Death in the Family

A scream from the ground floor destroyed
Jack’s fitful slumber, “Jack. ... My god, JACK. Please, for God’s
sake wake up and get down here.”

“OK, I’m coming,” I yelled out to the walls,
floor and open doorway, especially the open doorway.
Somebody
had better have just died, waking me like this.

Grudgingly I got up, walked over to my chair
valet, grabbed a warm-up suit off the chair and shoes from under
the chair. Reluctantly, and still waking up, I moved out of the
bedroom, and headed down the stairs. I was surprised that Elaine
hadn’t awakened, with all this yelling going on. As I was going
down the stairs, I thought,
All this had better not be over
another spider or daddy-long-legs or I swear someone is going to
die.”

When I entered the living room, Di grabbed my
arm and pulled me into the dining room. She spun me so that I was
facing the hallway which led to her sister’s room.

“Di. What is this all about?” I asked still
groggy from my rude awakening.

“Go. Go down the hall into Chris’s room and
see for yourself.”

I was tempted to say, “See what? I’m blind,”
but this did not seem to be a good time for joviality. Something
had really gotten Di spooked. It was starting to get me spooked as
well, and I did not even know why.”

I walked down to Chris’s room as ordered
,
I wish I could remember Chris’s room’s layout better, haven’t seen
her room in years. Maybe I should have asked Di for some visual
help- nope, for what very reason, she obviously wanted me to come
down alone and is clearly upset about something.
With my mind
too much on my thoughts I bumped my shoulder lightly against a door
frame, I realized that I had arrived a few feet sooner than I had
expected. It’s been years since I have even looked into Chris’s
room let alone walked in.

“Chris? Chris, is everything alright?” I
asked, tentatively.

No answer.

Not a good sign.
Feeling as if I was
walking into a morgue, I made a point of remembering the room
layout, Chris’s bed would be about 10 o’clock to her doorway, about
four feet to the forward left. Cautiously I enter the room and
walked toward the direction I believed the bed to be in, cautiously
because, from my visual days, I recalled that Chris did not have
the neatest bedroom around, then neither does her sister. Possibly
this disaster area décor was a family thing.

Bumping into the bed, I gently moved my hand
down and forward until I encountered cold, deadly cold (?) skin.
Please, not dead skin,
I silently prayed. Moving my hand, I
quickly realized that it was Chris’s wrist that I had found, and it
was cold, all too cold. Out of reflex, I flinched. Forcing myself,
I moved my hand up her cold death-like arm to her shoulder. From
her shoulder, I found my way to her neck, and from her neck I felt
my way to her slightly parted lips—the whole time my skin is
crawling at the unnatural coolness of her skin. I also realized
that during the whole time I had been feeling her body, she had not
made a single noise or movement in protest.
Really a bad
sign.

Against all judgment that was screaming “turn
and run away” I moved my hand up to her nose and felt—nothing, no
feeling of breathing at all. I just couldn’t let that be the final
ruling, so I moved my other hand down to her chest to feel for
movement, for any sign of breathing–and I found none.

“Is she ... is she...” Di interrupted my
investigation.

Hmmm, here I thought Di too upset to come
down here
, keeping her from having to finish her sentence, even
if she could. “I believe so.” Then I realized that I had failed to
finish the sentence. I assumed from Di’s silence she got the
message.

On a whim, I brought my hand up from her
unmoving chest and felt the side of her neck...

“What ... what are you doing?” Di asked.

“Feeling for a pulse,” I lied. What I found
were two punched marks on the side of the neck, like a snake would
make except for being too far apart—
more like a vampire would
make.

Di asked, shakily, “What should we do?”

“I guess, call the police,” I answered.

“Is that necessary? You know she had a
possible heart problem.”

No, I did not know that she had a possible
heart problem.
“What is this about a heart problem?” I asked, a
little disturbed at this sudden enlightenment.

“I thought I told you. Chris has been having
some medical problems, so I had been taking her to see her doctor.
Why, just last week, Chris went through a number of medical tests
on her heart. In fact, I was trying to wake her so that we’d make
her doctor appointment later today. We were supposed to see her
doctor for the results of those tests.”

“Maybe before we call the police we should
call her doctor and see what he has to say.”

“I’ll do that right now.” I heard Di rush
down the hallway already going for the dining room phone.

I went back upstairs, not to resume my sleep,
but to change from my leisurely warm-up suit to my street clothes.
It looked like we’d be going out today.

While I was changing into my street clothes
it occurred, not for the first time, that this was now a more
difficult job then I had planned for originally. Back then,
preparing for the most likely chance of going blind, I began
changing my wardrobe to all white shirts with my pants in navy blue
or black. I figured I would have no problem if and when I couldn’t
see to dress, if all my clothes were in the same color scheme. Of
course, after we married, my loving wife insisted in putting color
back into my wardrobe. Her loving logic was, “I’ll always be there
to help you pick out your shirts and pants and make sure you are
color coordinated. Right. Now I have to feel for a Braille tab with
the basic color of my clothes on the labels. As for my socks, they
are still all basic navy blue. All my shoes were black, except for
my tennis shoes (it’s easy enough to feel the difference between my
work or dress shoes and my soft-sided tennis shoes).