No, I’m not in Southern France right now. I’ve traveled to the Southern United States, Georgia and Louisiana to be more precise. It is hot, like Hades–hotter I imagine. I didn’t think I would feel the heat when I was dead, but I do. It is relentless. I spend my days at antique markets, somehow I feel quite at home there. So many of the things I knew are here, popular once again. But time marches on.
And so do I.
The most intriguing thing I found was a Vampire Kit from New Orleans. It wasn’t just the wooden dagger with silver inlay, the derringer with silver bullets, the holy water, the Bible, the Cross or the garlic, it was the young boy who looked on with huge eyes, one green, the other brown. He was fascinated with the kit. He took his hand and gingerly rubbed the top of the century old box. ”Do they exist?” I could hear his thoughts. “Vampires? Well, do they?” he said to nobody.
I patted the boy’s back. He stiffened to my touch. He looked around. Nobody was there.
I didn’t mean to frighten him. Or perhaps I did.
I know if Vampires exist, but I am not about to tell you if they do. If I did, what fun would it be? All I will tell you is that when I was alive, I held one of those wooden daggers in my hands. Now, that same dagger is in the hands of one of the strangers.
I watched the boy with two different color eyes wander from the Vampire Kit. He searched for his mother. He brought her over to see the Vampire Kit for herself. She didn’t seem the least bit interested.
“But it’s for killing Vampires,” the boy insisted.
His mother laughed. ”I don’t know any Vampires, do you?” she asked.
He stared at her in silence. Again, I could hear his thoughts, “Why is there an ancient kit for killing Vampires if they don’t exist?”
But he stayed quiet.
Before he left the old antique market, I notice him sneak back to the vender selling the old kit.
“Can I have your card?” he whispered under his breath.
“You never know,” he said.
I stared into the young boy’s eyes. I liked him immediately. Practical fellow. He was right, one never knows when a Vampire Kit might come in handy.
WC
Lovely. Thank you.
NOTE TO SELF: Comment more!
Note to self. Write more so that Woofer can comment more.
You’ve just brought a tear to my eye. To think that someone can be moved by my simple words, well, it a dream come true. Thank you.
Don’t underestimate yourself or your talent. Ever!
I sometimes mourn the loss of the boy I was who could believe fervently in vampires, werewolves, dragons and fairies. I think all adults do. But, there is still a part of me that, even if not quite believing, still thinks there is “more on heaven and earth”, so to speak. There is magic and mystery in the world. There is much that science cannot explain. Your fans probably all feel that way, I would guess. Horror fans, sci fi fans, and fantasy fans desire nothing more than to find something that is not part of our everyday experience. Films give us that, even if just for a handful of minutes. We are still, in some small part, that little boy.
I love the way you express this. It is those kids, sitting in the dark, that seem to remember most clearly. You have a wonderful gift of expression and I love to hear you comments.
Great story, loved it, even the embellishments. I was there with you, (which was your intent, I’m sure) watching the young boy struggle with the knowing of his destiny…the certainty of decisions already made for him. But how to get back home now….I’m not entirely sure…
I wish I knew how to get back home. I am struggling with this. Everyday.