The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (11 page)

When they did have any contact, Augere seemed careful to keep a physical as well as emotional distance. Jason tried to keep the topics neutral, general; Augere was difficult to draw out. Yes or no questions were to be avoided, unless he wanted yes or no answers. Sometimes Jason’s comments elicited blank looks from Augere, as if he had no idea what Jason was talking about.

When Augere did converse, his speech was often likely to be a mixture of antiquated words and phrases intermingled with modern expressions. The effect was startling and amusing at times, but also quite charming, and Jason instinctively showed no negative reaction. Augere reminded Jason of a foreign exchange student he had befriended at school: a non-native speaker of English who seemed to have learned the language from outdated sources, and who used phrases like “it is high time we went to class, do you not think?” Augere’s English, aside from traces of French pronunciation delivered along with the faint influence of a southern accent, was flawless and eloquent. He was as always quite soft spoken, but he never mumbled; each word was distinctly clear, in a voice that had an unusual quality, one which Jason tried to identify. It was a pleasing tone, but somehow sounding as if produced from some mechanical source, or like the tones from a musical instrument, rather than a human voice.

Outwardly, Jason respected Augere’s need and desire for privacy, and guarded that as well as his own. But he still had a desire to break down the boundaries between them. He wanted more camaraderie; longer, more in depth conversations. He had already begun to resign himself to the possibility this might never happen.
That is not why you are here,
he often found he had to remind himself.

He admitted he had difficulty accepting how young Augere was. There was a tendency, an unconscious one almost, to be overly familiar, as one might be to a younger sibling or classmate. Since he had not been told how to address him, Jason chose to stick with “Mr. Augere,” which helped to keep his tendency to be overly familiar in check.

Opportunities to study him outright were rare. It was very difficult to catch Augere in an unguarded moment. It was hard to be preemptive in these attempts when Augere had a tendency to look at him first, for long intervals before speaking. And when he did so, Jason found he could not meet that gaze for very long. Especially when Augere’s eyes were a dark somber grey.
What is his natural eye color exactly?
Jason wondered, noting darker and paler shades of violet, a deep blue, or lighter and darker greys. What was up with all of the special effects lenses all the time? Was it vanity? Or a needed prescription perhaps? At every available opportunity Jason tried to take in as many details about Augere as he could, and mull these over later at his considerable leisure.

Augere sometimes watched movies in the library, where a DVD player was hooked up to the TV. Many of the films were ones Jason himself liked. He thought of inviting himself to watch with him, but always felt that would come across as being too forward. And if that interest was rejected, then the chance to expand it toward other interests could be lost as well. Jason wasn’t ready to take that risk.

What had Genier meant when he had recently said Augere has spent long intervals away from people? What about his family? His friends? Had he led a very sheltered life? Home schooled maybe? Somehow he had not shared a common history with peers? Had he been in some kind of institution? Part of a cult maybe, or some other unusual circumstance? That all seemed unlikely. Jason’s impression of Augere was that he was quite intelligent; well-read and cultured—worldly even. He was well mannered and showed almost a military bearing in the way he stood and presented himself. It appeared he was probably wealthy. He wore clothes well, even when casually attired, and seemed equally at ease in an Armani suit as in a Siouxsie Sioux T-shirt and faded jeans. A maturity about him belied his youth. A sense of sadness, a world weariness even. There had been more than a hint of despair that night Jason had glimpsed him in the library, a depth of emotion and experiences Jason sensed as uncommon in someone so young.

The more Jason observed the more fascinated he became.

There was always the sensuous fluidity in all of his movements. A seamless smoothness of motion, though not often easily seen from moment to moment, but which appeared to be very natural for him. He had a languid composure; almost lazily slow at times: a sense of energy contained, as if he had to slow himself down to be more in step with the world.

His face was too perfect. Not just that his features were so striking; the skin was much too smooth, unnaturally smooth, even for someone so young, with a nearly translucent quality; pale, yet with a radiance, like fine porcelain. His long dark hair, more black than brown, always looked exactly the same: it always fell in soft waves, lush and full, reaching just to his shoulders and framing the almost too delicate features, all of which made him appear even younger.

No one’s hair looks exactly the same all the time
. The long dark lashes and pale skin definitely made the intense blue violet of Augere’s eyes seem even more pronounced, and when those eyes were somber grey they appeared even darker still in contrast to his too pale complexion. His overall appearance, even with his muscularly slender build, and his height at just over six feet, suggested to Jason a vaguely androgynous look.

Sometimes, at the Thursday meetings, there was no task and little discussion. Did Augere just need to touch base with him? Jason wondered. Those contacts were especially frustrating when Augere was right there, and yet so unreachable beneath his reserved exterior.

Always the tantalizing hint of similarities dangled between them, of suspected shared interests, and yet Jason felt shut out. There seemed no way to gain access, no way to cross that invisible line.
You can be so cryptic
Jason thought, discreetly eyeing him with exasperation.
I wish I knew what was in your mind, what you were really thinking
.

One morning soon after some exasperated ruminating, a strange thing occurred. Augere left detailed instructions for some routine tasks and errands he wanted Jason to do for him. The tasks were written out in Augere’s spiky, elegant hand, which reminded Jason of calligraphy, in blue ink on his personal stationery: ivory parchment that had small red and blue lines running through it—like tiny veins and arteries embedded in pale skin, Jason had thought. But the instructions were spelled out in more detail than necessary. Jason sniffed, more than a little offended.

Does he think I’m not smart enough for this job? Is that why he asks so little of me? I’m a college graduate, with a high IQ!—does he really believe I can barely handle this?

“I received the list of things you had for me to do and they are all completed,” he told Augere the next day. Then Jason laughed a little, hopefully to soften his next comment, “…but really—I felt the instructions were spelled out in far more detail than seemed necessary.”

Without glancing up from the Italian magazine he was reading at his desk, Augere replied: “I can be…too cryptic…at times.”

Jason winced.
He couldn’t possibly have known my thoughts. And even if he could read my mind, wasn’t I near Government Center downtown, having coffee, when I even thought of that “cryptic” comment,
he falsely remembered. It had to be just a really odd coincidence that Augere had used that same word just now. Then he recalled he might have had had the same thought again, later, when he was sitting across from Augere. That began to creep him out a little.

Jason told himself he didn’t mind any of the tasks he was asked to do. He didn’t consider any of them to be truly demeaning.
Hey, if he is willing to pay me that much money to do what I do, who am I to complain, really? It has value to him. I know I have it good here
. He didn’t work hard. There was no one on his back all the time. No time clock. No annoying, crazy co-workers. No deadlines, no paperwork. He didn’t have a stupid, overbearing, hateful boss. He shrugged.
I can deal with cryptic
.

Around the middle of June, Genier called again to check in with him. “How are things going?” he asked.

“Okay. No complaints from me. Does Mr. Augere still say I’m doing okay?”

“I think so, yes.”

“But—you’re not sure.” Genier’s comment lacked the reassurance he needed. Jason hated feeling so insecure.

“He has been kind of irritable and preoccupied lately. Don’t worry; nothing to do with you. It will pass.”

“Is he like that often? Kind of moody?”

“…moody…yes, Difficult, at times.”

“Is it—depression?—sorry, I know, that’s really not any of my business.”

There was a pause. “Does he seem depressed to you?”

“It is kind of hard to say. I don’t see him that much. I wouldn’t describe him as happy though.”

“I think it is fair to say there could be intervals of depression. Usually he pulls himself out of it. My advice is just to be patient. Keep allowing him some space.”

“No problem there. I only see him a few minutes a week. I guess he’s probably busy.”

“…busy…?” There was an awkward pause. Jason filled the silent gap.

“I was wondering—I know I should call you with any concerns, but is there any one I should ever contact, on his behalf, if I needed to? Anyone local I mean. Family perhaps.”

“He has no family.”

“No one in Boston?”

“No one. Anywhere. We are his only contact. You have an afterhours phone number for me; it will go to an answering service, and they will quickly contact me, if there is a need to.”

“Oh. Okay. I see…I know it is none of my business, and I don’t mean to pry, but how is it he has no family?”

“I can understand you being curious. Our firm is the closest to family he has. He has been alone ever since I’ve—that is, since we’ve known him.”

“Oh, okay… Well, is there anything else I should be doing for him?”

“You’re doing fine, Jason. Don’t worry.”

So Jason had something new to wonder about. Had the law firm been appointed as his guardian then? Because of the long standing association with the Genier family? But what had happened to his family? The Augere mystery deepened.

Meanwhile Jason continued to adapt to his new life. He was free to be himself; to dress whatever way he wanted, every day, and to occupy himself with his own pleasures. After only two months he had paid off many of his former debts, and reasoned he could be debt free within the year. He had a real savings account now. Several of them, in fact, just for good measure. Thanks to the Geniers’ advice he was already seeing good returns in the retirement options they had recommended, and the firm advised him on making contributions they would match. He was totally enjoying the perks of his new life. Though he still hadn’t completely been able to give up the frugal ways of his previous existence nor overcome his fear of spending—it still made him a little nauseated if he spent more than $200 at one time—he was beginning to relax a little about his financial future.

Not everything was perfect of course. His sleep cycle was way off. He ate breakfast in the late afternoons, and dinner was sometimes in the middle of the night. He spent hours on the internet, with any porn kept to an absolute minimum, if at all, and soon grew bored with video games. Now that he had so much free time, he found he had less inclination to do some things he used to miss doing. He drifted from one day to the next, without pressure to be anywhere or do anything. Sometimes he saw several movies in one day at different theaters. He felt decadently at leisure. And as always there were never any calls from Augere to respond to.

Sometimes he wondered how he had ever gotten along without all this free time to himself. It seemed almost essential to his sense of wellbeing, satisfying a need to recharge his spirit. At other times he felt he was too self-indulgent.
This is all well and good,
he thought,
but I need to impose some healthy discipline on myself
.

He found a gym he liked in the neighborhood. He started making it a point to eat only healthy foods. He gradually began to feel more in touch with himself, in both mind and body. He needed and appreciated having the time for introspection; it helped to restore his energy and his emotional equilibrium.

This was something that was always missing in his life, he thought, and he was just never able to achieve this until now.
I was always so caught up in just surviving I didn’t know myself as well as I might have, much less realize what I needed most. I can thank Augere for this
.

As much as he still wished to connect with Augere he had enough of his own interests to keep him occupied. He had always been someone who could enjoy his own company.

Still, he had to admit he had a longing for intellectual companionship; for the exchange of ideas; stimulating, humorous, enlightening contact; real conversation—this was now lacking in his life.

He thought of looking up some of his old acquaintances from Boston. But he had so little in common with any of them anymore. Most of the people he had liked had drifted off long ago and he had lost contact with them. He needed to meet new people.

Identifying his needs was not the same as having the motivation to pursue them. He could spend hours away from the house, but soon would become anxious to return. More and more he began to like just spending time at home. All of his comforts, all of what he needed was there.

He had turned the smaller of his bedrooms into a small library for himself. He had a sleeper sofa in there now, for potential guests, as well as a second flat screen TV; newly installed bookshelves kept his books, DVDs, CDs, and games handy.

But that room could never compare with Augere’s library: it was still the most sumptuous and seductive room Jason had ever had access to. Books and movies were like drugs to Jason, and that library held a lot of what he craved. Everything about that room lured him there: the plush carpeting; the jewel and earth toned comforts of the soft textured fabrics everywhere. The prints on the walls delighted him, and Augere changed these at intervals. Currently he loved the two Breitenbachs, the proverb idioms posters; there were some Eschers; a Salvador Dali and two large Waterhouse prints, but always there was some new delight to take in. He had several preferred cozy nooks around the room, which invited reading and lingering. The room could seem bright and airy at times or dark and somber if the heavy curtains were drawn and both of those aspects appealed to him, depending on his own mood. The room promised comfort, pleasure and an ambience he could find nowhere else. But more pulled him there of course: it was the one place where he was most likely to encounter Augere.