I was sitting at a night club bar and a woman sat down next to me. She asked if I was spending the Thanksgiving day with my family.
“I do not know where my family is,” I said.
Then she asked, because people are always curious, “How about your parents?”
“My father is dead,” I told her.
Then she said, “I am so sorry. What about your mom?”
“I have my mother’s heart,” I told her.
I do have my mother’s heart in a box in an upstairs closet. It is now dried up with a silver bladed knife running through it.
I did not tell her that. I told her, “I have a sister, and maybe a cousin I could find. They might be dead. They might be alive. Who can tell?”
She gently put her warm hand on my arm, “What about grandparents Vlad?”
“My Baba. I am sure she is still alive. My Baba is a fighter. I had a wife once too but it has been centuries since I’ve seen her.”
HA HA HA. For my friend, she thinks centuries means a few years. I have not seen my former wife for five hundred years. That is a lot of centuries.
Tonight I saw my young friends Brittany and Kate. I can say they are friends. I am happy in their company. I drink their blood. They are happy in their ignorance.
We met at a place with loud music. It was too loud like something out of a nightmare. I offered to take the women home in my car because of the rain. As we drove along dark city streets suddenly the women screamed. I stopped. In front of us a car had hit an animal. It continued on. The women got out of the car and grabbed up a small body and brought it into the car. I wrapped it in my coat.
“It is just a puppy,” cried Kate with rain water and tears running down her face.
“It died,” cried Brittany.
I could not let the women be in so much distress. I am a Vampire and my heart is cold, but it is not made of stone and dirt. “I will bury the beast,” I told them.
When I arrived home, after dropping off the women, I put the small gray body in a box. It was still warm. I suddenly thought of my mother who loved all dogs. I went to the closet and took out the jeweled box that contained her heart.
When I was a young man of only thirteen, my mother vanished. Some said she left with a lover. Some said she was killed by the Vampire Hunter Guillaume Morte. Then one night a box was left at the door of the castle with my name on a tag. Young Vlad. It was written in blood. Not my mother’s, I knew the blood was not hers, but the heart, I knew the heart was hers. My father locked himself in his room for a week in great mourning and refused to look at the heart. He told me to put it away, and say her name only in the dead of night.
“Dear Mother, how I miss you,” I whispered as I pulled the blade out of the dried out heart.
The heart vanished with a wisp of red black smoke. Before me stood an apparition of a woman, not my mother, but a ghost of a young woman I had never seen before.
“Who are you?” I asked.
She glared at me. “Who are you?”
“I am Vlad, King of Vampires. Former Kings of Vampires.”
“My name is Jane. I’ve heard of you. You got locked in that crypt for three hundred years. Bummer.”
“How did you know? You’ve been in this box for centuries.”
“I hear things,” she said. “You know, you’ve been carrying me around forever.”
“I thought that was my mother’s heart,” I exclaimed. I did think it was my mother’s heart. How could I have been so mistaken.
“I’m a Werewolf. You know, silver blade, and all that BS. I swear, I’m still pissed off at those guys for stabbing me and cutting out my heart. Damn it. What the Hell is wrong with people?”
I suddenly had a thought. “I have a dog. It is dead but the body is still warm. You could take that body.”
Jane went over to the small body still wrapped in my coat. “That is no dog.” Then she kissed the pup.
“I do not understand,” I said to the ghost.
The pup stood up and walked to me. Then I realized that this was no dog. It was no wolf. It is an animal I have only seen in North America – a coyote.
“She will be your companion, and your familiar,” said Jane. “Her wild soul has left her body so I left her with a piece of Werewolf soul. Hey Vlad, I normally don’t keep company with Vampires, or even like you guys, but thanks for getting me out of that box and freeing my heart. I gotta go. Have fun.” Then Jane vanished into a burst of opalescent light.
The cats walked in large circles around the pup. “I will call her Jane,” I said to them.
The small pup then squatted and peed on my floor.
The blood of small children and virgins is highly over rated. It lacks in character and depth.
The great feast of Thanksgiving will be here this week. I must prepare. I know almost nothing of this feast. I watch wild turkeys walk in flocks up my street, but these are not the turkeys who will be consumed along with blood red cranberries, bread soaked with broth and cooked until it is dry, and great quantities of root vegetables, and pies.
I will have the blood of poets. I will have the blood of football players. I will have the blood of strong middle-aged women who rule their homes and make the feasts. Then I will sleep it off.
My neighbors asked my Vampire lover Gillian and me to join them in their feast. Gillian asked what we could bring. Blood of course, but Gillian said no. She is bringing roasted yams with garlic and thyme, and a few bottles of Cabernet. She said we must eat a small quantity of food, then have our blood at home. I told her that I know my manners. I am not uncouth or without cultural sensitivity. It makes me angry that sometimes she treats me as if I am a soul-less Vampire of the shadows who is driven by nothing but blood lust.
I even made a joke, the kind that makes one laugh, but Gillian was not amused. I said we would bring blood pudding and blood sausage to the Thanksgiving feast. She said I was disgusting. I made a joke. It was funny. I told her we could bake black birds in a pie. She rolled her eyes at me. I do not understand women and their lack of humor.
When I go out at night among the humans I hear men speaking to each other about their women. Their women treat them like children, questioning their actions, and telling them to behave and use their manners. They are told not to speak of politics, and sports, and automobiles. They talk of building man-caves to escape. This must be a bad situation if they wish to leave the comfort of their homes to live in caves away from women. I wonder about these caves and what motivates the women to drive their men away.
When I return home Gillian greets me with cold passionate kisses and leads me up to our bed. I think I will not have a man-cave.
Today, during the day, I walked the wee Were Souled Coyote pup named Jane to the park in my neighborhood. My two cats followed me with their tails up high.
When I arrived I found myself surrounded by the women who were out walking. There are always women out walking at this park. It is what Modern women do. They walk in serious ways alone or in groups. And they surrounded me.
They said Jane the Were Souled Coyote pup and I were so cute. They said the cats were so cute. I am a grown man, almost six feet tall, how I can be considered cute as a six week old pup or cats I still do not understand. The logic of these women is beyond me. What is this cute. I have yet to find an answer that will satisfy me.
I smiled at them, minus my fangs, with a small wink, and show of my dimples. I have found, even centuries back, that my special smile with a wink makes women weak at the knees and in my power.
Chuck who lives around the corner told me that puppies are “chick magnets.” Chicks are women. I did not know that until recently.
The grown women giggled like girls and all wanted to hold the small coyote pup. When they asked what kind of dog she is I told them a German Shepard, Queensland Healer, Husky mix. I know one, in this modern age is not supposed to keep wild animals, even if one is a Vampire, but this pup is no longer all coyote. She has the soul of a Werewolf, and no longer has her wild coyote pack soul. She only has her lone soul. The full moon has just passed, but I will be ready for the next full moon. I wonder what will happen, if anything. Time will tell.
In the meantime I will continue to earn my dinner with a wink and a smile.
And if cute helps I will do that too, whatever cute may be.