Oh what is this water falling from the sky? Rain maybe?
“Do you remember Douglas and Cassandra?”
“Vaguely,” I said to my husband. “What did they do this time?” They were famous for pulling stunts and living dangerously close to being found out.
“Left? Oh. When?”
Doug and Cassie had been Vampires since the early 1930’s. The last of their children has passed away from old age so they decided to end it. From time to time it happens. Maybe more than any of us would like to admit. It didn’t surprise me. They’d never been happy with their choice. No kidding. They’d been party animals who decided to become Vampires after (yes after) their kids were born. Bad choice. They had no idea what they were getting into. Kids change people. Becoming a Vampire with three children at home at the same time is not a good idea.
I barely knew them, but it was still a shock, but then again it wasn’t. After sitting in the back of the memorial service for their 89-year-old son, their youngest child, they decided to move on too. Doug and Cassie crawled into a crypt they’d purchased decades before and sealed the door.
I won’t say that I started to think of my own choices. These days I’m beyond thinking about any choices I’ve ever made in the past. One can only think of those sorts of things so much before feeling rather stupid.
What I was thinking about was how to write the transition pages that would tie a book I’m writing all together. I was thinking of bringing my old dog to the vet for a bad leg. Down under the basement of an empty Victorian building my brother and I own I was looking for some of my old drawings I thought I’d left there about a century ago.
My friend Adam (a Werewolf and brilliant photographer) dropped by. I’d told him I’d be there.
“What do Werewolves do when they get depressed or feel regret for being what they are?” I don’t even know why I asked him that. I guess just the mood of the night.
“We howl at the moon. I don’t know, drink, pick up women, chase cats…take drugs, sleep, rip flesh, you know, the usual. What brought that on?”
I shrugged. Adam stepped closer. “What do you do when you get depressed Juliette?”
“I have no idea. I don’t get depressed.”
We ended that conversation as quickly as it started and moved on to general gossip about people we know.
I pulled out a file of sketches and spread them out on the table. Adam looked them over a bit. Then he edged closer, his shoulder touching mine.
“Remember how we were before I knew you were a Vampire?”
“Before I knew you were a Werewolf,” I said. I didn’t add before you almost ripped my throat out.
“Do you believe things happen for a reason?”
“Not really. I mean sometimes. Right now I’m trying to believe it. I’m trying to believe in the impossible.”
“What is the impossible?”
“I am. Everything.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I believe.”
We went to breakfast, more for him than me. Then I took my daughter to school. On the way we talked about a boy in her school who’d come from Africa. His parents were wildlife naturalists. His mom passed away. They lived here now. Then we talked about the world economy and endangered species and phone chargers and roller skating.
Conversations are like rain the way they just fall. Crap, that was a line out of a really bad movie. I can’t believe I even wrote that.
In a bit I’m taking the dog to the vet for a limp, then for a few hours I am on my own, and trying to believe.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman