The Obscurati (27 page)

Germany has recognized gay couples for years. Pierre and Hamlet said they would be going to get registered, which gave them all the same legal rights as heterosexual couples. In Europe, it is common to have both a church ceremony and a civil ceremony, and that was what they planned to do.

After the ceremony, we all walked up the new stone path to the main house. Even our vampire guests used the walkway instead of just flashing up to the house. It was a perfect night for walking: no clouds, not much wind. I didn’t hear any of the humans complain about the temperature, so that must have been okay too. It could have been icy or sweltering outside, and I would never have known because vampires don’t feel temperature.

If any of the vampires had issues with being in a church, they kept it to themselves. The idea that vamps can’t be around crosses is the work of a fiction writer. You can go ahead and believe what you want about crosses and mirrors, but none of those stories are true. The stories about garlic are partially true—garlic stinks on somebody’s breath—but I had that opinion long before I became a vampire.

Our house staff was dressed in formal attire, mostly white coats. They all loved Hamlet and wanted his special day to be absolutely wonderful. And that it was.

Right after a perfectly lovely Baroque composition, I heard them playing “Just Dance.” Oberon and I looked at each other. We found Lonny, but he just shrugged. Maybe he really didn’t know about it.

“Lady Gaga from a chamber orchestra,” the queen said in our heads. “I can die in peace now. I’ve heard everything.”

“It was either that or ‘Beautiful, Dirty, Rich’,” Hamlet said, using mind-words. “It was a toss-up.”

We all mingled and drank champagne. Oberon and I were introduced to everyone as the masters of the estate. Several said they really missed Menz and offered condolences. One or two mentioned Paco. A regular parishioner of the church on the estate told me that they all offered a novena of Masses for both Menz and Paco. Father Johannes told me that was an old tradition. It involved nine Masses in a row. The human churchgoers were grieving for Menz and Paco without telling us about the services. I mean, they were free to use the chapel whenever they wanted, but I would have liked to know about the tribute. The priest and I ought to have some kind of regular meeting just to check on things. When I found him, the priest was talking to the queen, so I decided to postpone my chat with him for another day.

All of the parishioners were practically giddy over the repairs and improvements to their chapel. I made sure they all met Lonny and knew how to send him e-mail or voicemail. Lonny needed to experience Father Johannes directly. It would be a character-building exercise.

The staff carried around trays of champagne glasses. The food for our human guests was in the dining room. Those who wanted to snack went there. Vampires and humans both drink champagne, so it was nice to see the staff with the trays. Lonny ran the house like clockwork.

Most of Pierre’s friends could have been members of the French Foreign Legion or the US Marine Corps. None of them seemed uncomfortable around Hamlet. Point for them.

Nobody mentioned sniper rifles or the Obscurati. If anyone other than the queen and Pierre knew about our source of income, they kept it to themselves. If any of them really knew they were in the home of a deadly vampire hit squad, there might not have been such a large crowd.

Pierre was introducing Hamlet to all his friends, and they seemed happy to meet him. Oberon saw him lift up one of his feet when Pierre gave him a big hug.

“Ouch,” I said as Oberon punched me again. “What did I do now?”

“Hamlet’s shoe,” Oberon said as he pointed. I looked, and there was some writing done in felt-tip: “THIS SIDE UP.”

“Funny,” I chuckled. “And I think the soles of Hamlet’s feet will always be up in the air. But I am completely innocent of this one. It had to be one of the humans.”

“Right,” Oberon growled. Off in the distance, I saw a couple of humans giving each other a fist bump. A groundskeeper was handing one of them some kind of folding money. I don’t know what the wager was, and ignorance was bliss.

I rose and tapped my champagne glass with a letter opener.
Ting. Ting
. Everyone stopped and looked my way, and I started to raise my glass.

It was my duty to offer the first toast, but I couldn’t do it. I felt tears coming. If I started to say anything, there would be no way to finish. There was somebody missing from the celebration, and I had to acknowledge my mentor. The weight of everything came crashing onto my chest. My mentor was gone, my mother was gone, and I didn’t want to have to be the adult. It had never been my intention to live in Germany. Nobody ever asked if I wanted to be a vampire or to run one of the largest hops farms on the continent. And yet it was all there. People were all around, but I wanted Menz to be there. I wanted my mommy to tell me to eat my cereal. Menz had had so much more to teach me, and Paco’s humanity had made me feel impotent. They had so much knowledge and wisdom, and I would never have them as my teachers. It was like I was on a desert island with no hope.

For a sliver of a moment, I was all alone. It hurt because I didn’t want to be there. Almost as soon as I felt so alone, others stepped up without being asked. All this baggage, and I had to be the adult.

I caught a glimpse of Lonny working his way to the “fist bump” guys on the far side of the room. There was no way to tell what he was going to do, but I suspected it wouldn’t be pleasant. Lonny was with us, and he was with me as a volunteer. He had laid down his life as a human just to be with Oberon and me. How do you even thank somebody for that? How could I reconcile that with the fact that there is no way I was worth giving up his life? I saw Lonny heading back over to us, so he must have taken care of the situation. He was a vampire not because he wanted to suck blood, but because he wanted to be with Oberon and me. Fuck what the rest of society might think. I know there’s value in that. Lonny is vampire and gay, and I am humbled to know him.

Oberon was beside me, and he stepped up to help. I didn’t have to ask him to be there, but he saw that I wasn’t going to be able to offer the first toast. I knew that I would never be completely alone. Oberon was a volunteer too. He had asked to become a vampire. Oberon had volunteered to hand over his life to be with me. He put his body down on a bed and asked me to drain all his blood and take his last breath, and he did it because he was in love with me. Friggin’ wow. Yeah, the world really sucks some days. The universe throws plenty of shit that I’m supposed to carry. But the minute I think it is too much to lift, there is somebody to pitch in without me having to ask. Lonny was nearby again. I felt him pat my butt just to let me know he was there. He put a clean handkerchief into the palm of my hand. I dropped the other one with all my blood tears on the floor and gave him a quick nod.

Oberon spoke. He offered a toast to those who couldn’t be at the wedding, and everyone knew that he meant Menz and Paco. I held Lonny’s fresh handkerchief at my eyes because I felt blood flowing down my cheeks in streaks. I missed them, Menz and Paco. It was cruel to them and to everybody they left behind, and it all seemed to hit me hard. This was Hamlet and Pierre’s day, and I wasn’t about to let my tears detract from that. I thought that I was going to have to leave the room, but somehow my tears stopped.

Oberon then offered the toast to Pierre and Hamlet as he pulled me close with his free arm. I’m sure it was a nice toast, but I have no idea what words he used. Oberon was there for me. He saw that I needed help, and he was just there. Friggin’ wow. I squeezed his arm as I pulled him close and leaned on his shoulder.

The queen (the one with the tiara, not Hamlet) rose and called Hamlet and Pierre the strangest and most wonderful couple she had ever known. Several people around the room agreed with her. She wished them five thousand years or more of bliss. The humans chuckled. The vampires knew she was serious.

I was holding Oberon with my left hand. Lonny walked up and held my right hand. He leaned in with yet another fresh handkerchief and wiped my tears. They both squeezed my hands. Talk about the strangest “couple.” I had both of my men. Both of them had given the ultimate sacrifice to be with me. I squeezed their hands, and they squeezed back.

“One for all,” I whispered as I brought all three sets of hands together.

“All for one,” Oberon said. “The Three Muska-queers.”

“We’re the queen’s queens,” Lonny said.

“Oy vey,” Queen Cécile said in our heads. “What have we created?”

“I am so sorry, ma’am,” Lonny thought. “It won’t happen again, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, please,” she said in our minds. “Of course it will. You guys are a hoot. Why the Dickens do you think I let them turn you?”

Lonny stood motionless, but I saw his eyeballs straining to look my way. I just winked.

H
AMLET
got everyone’s attention. Hamlet faced Pierre with a raised champagne glass, and this is what he said:

“When, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts—”

Pierre raised his glass and motioned for Hamlet to stop. I don’t know if it was planned, but Pierre knew the final part of the Shakespearean sonnet that Hamlet had started. Pierre said,

“Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate—”

Then they both raised their glasses, saying the final couplet together:

“For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.”

They kissed and held each other close, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the entire house, neither vampire nor human.

I could feel Menz. Somewhere. Somehow. He would have loved being here for this. His spirit was there. I knew it. I could feel it.

The queen walked up with a handkerchief. I took it and wiped my tears, and I heard her say what I wanted to say. She found the words that I couldn’t find.

“Daddy,” she said softly, “the kids are all grown up now.”

And I felt Menz smiling. Wherever he was, I knew Menz was smiling. When I looked at the queen, I saw a tear in her eye too.

Epilogue

With this field-dew consecrate,

Every fairy take his gait,

And each several chamber bless,

Through this palace, with sweet peace;

Ever shall it in safety rest,

And the owner of it blest.

Trip away:

Make no stay:

Meet me all by break of day.

—Oberon,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream

William Shakespeare

About the Author

W
YNN
W
AGNER
and his husband Rick live in Texas.

Texas doesn't recognize their marriage even though it was done by a real priest in a real Old Catholic Church during Mass. God recognizes the marriage even if the state doesn't. "Texas versus God," Wynn says. "I pick God."

Wynn is an archbishop and president of the World Conference of Old Catholic Churches and Coadjutor of the North American Old Catholic Church.

He has written numerous gay and spiritual books. The author Patricia Nell Warren calls him a "powerhouse in GLBT publishing."

Before that, he was a programmer who helped write the tax software used by some of the world's largest corporations. He also wrote Opus-CBCS, a computer bulletin board system that was wildly popular in the 1980s. Opus generated millions of dollars for HIV and AIDS, back when almost nobody was helping fund research or caring for those suffering from the disease. He also wrote a short piece called "HIV: Day One" for those who have just learned they have HIV.

Before programming and writing, Wynn worked in radio in Texas and New York. Before that, he was a pimply-faced teenager.

Visit his web site at http://www.WynnWagner.com and his blog at http://www.WynnWagnerBooks.com. His Facebook is WynnWagner.

Read how Mårten’s story started in
W
YNN
W
AGNER
’s