The Vampires' Last Lover (Dying of the Dark Vampires Book 1) (47 page)

“I looked toward the house, this time in panic. No one inside was aware of my predicament. Meanwhile, Banjo peered at me from his hiding place just behind the oak’s trunk. I could see fear in his expression, his ears lower than usual and his head drawn back.

“The lizard hissed loudly and reared as if ready to attack my legs. I don’t know why I didn’t just yell or scream for Grandpa to come to the rescue. In any case, just as suddenly as the lizard flexed its muscles to jump, it froze. It turned toward the woods, as if listening to something humanly inaudible. It released the swing’s rope and jumped down to the ground, and raced toward the sphere.

“I released my breath in a slow shudder of relief. At the same time, I felt really pissed at the sneaky bastard for scaring me. In haste, I slid down the rope and jumped off. I picked up the metal bait container and set after the lizard.

“It slipped further away, reaching the sphere and, with very little effort, jumped on top of the barren globe with very little effort. It turned and emitted one last malevolent hiss, its forked tongue sliding in and out.

“When I realized the lizard was about to leave the backyard, I looked for something to throw at it. I wanted to send a message never to come back. I thought about hurling the metal bait container, but it belonged to my grandfather. Unable to find anything else suitable for the task, all I had was the melted sucker.

“The lizard turned to face the wall and its exit to freedom on the other side. It glanced back, as if daring me to try and hit it. I threw the sucker, hitting it squarely on the back of the head. The piece of candy made a solid ‘thunk’ sound before careening beyond the backyard, landing somewhere in the field across the way. The startled monster yelped in surprise and hissed. It leapt from the sphere, landing on the wall’s other side.

“I felt a mixture of sadness and relief. But I didn’t have long to contemplate either feeling. Someone watched me. Not anyone in the house, because if Grandpa would’ve known I needed some serious assistance, he would have already hurried to help. Instead, it felt like whoever watched did so from just a short distance.

“Completely sure of this, but I couldn’t tell what direction. Pretty weird, huh? Like being intensely studied from every possible angle. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, while a chill ran along my spine. I whirled around, but saw no one. No one in the backyard except Banjo, still hiding.

“I’d finally had enough of this shit, including the oppressive heat. Prepared to walk bravely to the house, I noticed something glistening in front of the sphere. At first glance, it could’ve been a piece of broken glass. But as I moved closer, the thing looked like it was made of gold.

“I walked over and picked it up. Small and oblong, the object seemed heavy for its size. My experience in helping Grandpa polish an old coin collection from time to time helped confirm it was made of gold. I turned it over and over in my hands studying it, barely aware of the dark storm cloud from the west. The front portion of the cloud peeked over the majestic treetops at the edge of the woods. I looked up briefly in response to the soft rumble of thunder filling the air. Satisfied just a light midsummer storm was on the way, I turned my attention back to the strange object.

“Little symbols and unusual designs covered each side. I stood totally mesmerized and unable to remove my eyes from it. I started to feel very weird and dizzy.

“The next thing I remember was Grandpa calling to me.

“‘Jack! Jack!’ His voice shook me out of my trance. ‘What in the
hell
are you doing out here in the rain?’

“It was raining, all right, and by the looks of things it’d been raining for some time. Completely soaked, rainwater dripped from my head onto the golden object. I was surprised I still held it. So tight my knuckles were ghostly white.

“Nervously, I cleared my throat while I fidgeted, unsure what to do with the strange item. I looked over my shoulder and smiled at my grandfather, absently shoving it into the depths of my pocket.

“‘Oh, nothing really, Grandpa,’ I told him. ‘Just trying to find out where that lizard took off to. I must look like an idiot just standing here, huh?’

“Definitely, from the expression on his face. I looked away, letting my eyes follow the sphere’s smooth contours and the muddy ground. I lifted one of my feet, surprised at how deep it’d sunk into the mud. The shoe made a low puckering sound as I raised it out of the muck. How long had I been standing there? It didn’t seem like even a few minutes passed since picking up the object, and yet from the looks of my surroundings, I’d been there for at least an hour or two.

“‘Well, are you going to just stand there all day hoping to sprout some roots, or would you mind if we went inside the house, son?’

“Grandpa’s voice betrayed his irritation, and who could blame him? He stood a few feet away, impatiently moving from foot to foot. The only protection from the rain he’d brought was that morning’s newspaper, folded over, already soaked and dripping as he held it above his head.

“‘No, not at all,’ I said. ‘I’m ready to go in now.’

“He motioned for me to follow as he turned and ran to the shelter of the oak. My legs felt like rubber as I chased after him. Again, how long had I been standing in the rain? I could only venture a guess since the sun lay hidden behind dark clouds. Besides which, my wristwatch was missing. I felt completely disoriented and confused.”

“That had to be very intense for you, Jack,” Peter said, after Jack grew quiet. His eyes nearly restored to their original clarity, they sparkled, letting Jack know he remained interested. “Can you remember the intricate details on the object you held?”

“I wish I could, but I don’t think so,” he replied. “But I bet I’d recognize them in a heartbeat if I ever saw them again.”

“At a later time, I’ll show you some early American artifacts we have in our Archives Center. I’d be most interested to see how similar they are to the object you’ve described.”

“Sure, I’d be willing to do that.”

“Good. Let’s keep this wonderful story of yours rolling.”

“Well, I arrived at the base of the oak a moment after my grandfather did, and walked to where he stood. He eyed me sternly, the soaked newspaper held to his side while he petted Banjo.

“‘Why were you just standing there?’ he asked. ‘What was so damned interesting that you’d completely ignore me calling you?’

“Several images crowded my mind. Everything from hunting lizards to standing in the rain with the mysterious golden object in my hands. I shrugged.

“‘I’m sorry, Grandpa. I don’t know what came over me. One minute I’m chasing that lizard and the next I’m standing in the rain.’

“He raised his eyebrows, though more compassionately. He looked beyond me, to the area we just ran from, and shook his head. Then he smiled and chuckled.

“‘Come on, son,’ he said. ‘I’ll race you to the porch.’

“Water cascaded from the leaves above, forming several puddles. He gave a playful wink and on the count of three we raced to the porch while heavy rain pelted us mercilessly.

“Just before he and I entered the back door, the rain tapered off, leaving only a light drizzle in the air. We left our grimy shoes on the porch just outside the screened door. Glad to be indoors again, the strong aroma of dinner cooking on the kitchen stove alerted me to my stomach’s emptiness.

“The heat inside the kitchen was still stifling, even though a pair of floor fans stayed busy sending a cross breeze gathered from the main floor on through the kitchen. Grandpa advised me to go upstairs and change into dry clothes. He headed for his own bedroom on the main level.

“I headed upstairs, and as usual, the second, fourth, and seventh stairs squeaked, despite my best effort to walk softly up the old mahogany staircase that curved up to the second floor gallery. Once I reached the last step, I almost ran to my bedroom at the southern end of the house. Even during the day, it was pretty creepy, especially the hallway to my room.

“When I got to my bedroom, I walked to my dresser and emptied my pockets of a few coins and the golden object. I set all of these items next to my parents’ photographs and took off the wet clothes. After leaving them in a small pile near the foot of the bed, I glanced out the bedroom window, which I mentioned earlier faced the backyard. The rain had ceased and the summer sun was in full force. I started to turn toward the door, but noticed the time on my alarm clock read five thirty-one p.m. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been standing by the sphere for nearly three hours.

“No matter how hard I searched my memory, I couldn’t account for the missing time. I finally had to let the matter rest. Jeremy would be home any minute and I was in danger of missing the start of dinner. I ran to the bathroom and took a shower, putting on a pair of clean jeans and a t-shirt. I grabbed the prize off my dresser and shoved it into my pocket, ready to head downstairs for dinner.

“I could hear Grandpa talking to someone downstairs in the kitchen. A loud burst of laughter let me know Jeremy was home. I started down the stairs, but then remembered my wristwatch was missing. I ran back to my room and tried to locate it, checking the usual places. I forgot I’d last seen it near the swing in the backyard. My brother and grandfather grew restless downstairs. No choice but to search later.

“‘Jack! What the hell’s taking you so long up there?’ Grandpa shouted. ‘Supper’s waiting and we’re fixing to start without you!’

“I yelled I was on my way, and hurried to the top of the staircase. Just in time to see him walk to the kitchen, I clamored down the stairs, jumping past the bottom two and landing with a thud in the foyer. I headed for the kitchen, the creaking floorboards announcing my rapid approach. The aroma of spaghetti and meatballs filled the main floor, which kindled my raging hunger so much I almost forgot about the heavy object threatening to tear the fabric of my pocket. I steadied it with one hand and walked to the dinner table.

“Jeremy leaned against the kitchen counter, smoking his last cigarette before dinner. Tall, dark, and very good looking, at least that’s what the ladies always said, he’d be seventeen in September and already had a job lined up working fulltime for the local sawmill in town. Grandpa reluctantly agreed to let him drop out after the previous school year at Demopolis High, since he’d nearly flunked out due to apathy anyway. ‘What a waste!’ he’d say, especially since Jeremy had shown promise scholastically just a few years before. But ever since he blew out his right knee playing football the previous fall, he pretty much gave up on his education.

“He leaned against the counter, the powerful build that made him an all-state halfback on display and hard to ignore. I often felt weak and puny in comparison. Nonetheless, like many folks, I couldn’t help but stare in admiration at his physique and rugged handsomeness.

“He, on the other hand, felt uncomfortable being so adored and idolized by me, and would meet my absent stare with a cold, icy glare. His piercing green eyes cut through me like a pair of lasers as they peered from behind his curly, black, shoulder length hair.

‘What the hell are you looking at, little pecker head?’ he asked.

“Often the case, I was unaware of my obvious adulation.

“‘Oh, u-uh nothing really, Jeremy.’ I stammered. ‘I-I was just wondering what you’d been up to today.’

“‘Is that so? For a moment I thought you wanted to kiss me or something,’ he sneered. ‘I might have to come over there and kick your ass, little brother.’

“‘Jeremy. Damn it, son, that’ll be enough of that kind of talk!’ Grandpa scolded. He moved closer to the table, never taking his eyes off him as he made sure the two of us remained separated. ‘You’ll not be ruining supper tonight, you hear? Don’t think I won’t enforce my words on you, son, if I have to!’

“Jeremy looked at our grandfather, whose icy glare was far colder than his own. He smiled and shrugged, and took one last drag before mashing the remainder of the cigarette into a small ashtray sitting next to the sink. All the while, he never took his eyes away from Grandpa’s unwavering gaze, until he finally glanced at me. I gave my best effort to pretend my feelings weren’t hurt.

“‘Jeremy,’ said Grandpa, ‘you owe your brother an apology. As soon as you do that, we can all sit down and start eating. You reckon you can handle that?’

“A slight, smug grin appeared on my brother’s face, and slowly nodded his head. I believe partly in amusement and partly in admiration for our grandfather’s talent in manipulation. I’m sure he considered resisting the obvious coercion, but his growling stomach strongly suggested he do otherwise. He gave in to his hunger.

“‘Sure, Grandpa,’ he said softly, while smiling at me. ‘Sorry, Jackie, if I offended you in some way. Just don’t patronize me so much, man.’

“Patronize? Such a big word for him to be using, though I liked him a hell of a lot better when he let his intelligence rather than his vulgarity shine.

“‘Apology accepted,’ I replied.

“With that taken care of, we converged on the table set with steaming hot spaghetti and meatballs, buttered bread and fresh salad from Grandpa’s garden. After a quick grace, we dug in. At first there was very little conversation, other than the usual ‘please pass the whatever’ and the obligatory ‘thank you’. But after our initial hunger subsided, the scope of the conversation broadened considerably.