6
As Seymour comes down for his breakfast, I am sitting at the kitchen table. I have made him bacon and eggs and toast, his favorite high-cholesterol meal. He has on a brown robe and is fresh from a warm shower. He smiles at me as I pour his hand-squeezed orange juice from the other side of the table.
"One day you're going to make somebody a great wife," he says.
"Thank you. One day you're going to make a girl have a nervous breakdown."
"You worry about me too much. I just went to the movies. God knows where you were." He picks up his fork and tests his eggs. "Did you get me themorning paper? You know I can't enjoy my food unless I'm fully informed on currentevents," he jokes.
I speak seriously. "I am your morning paper."
He butters his toast." What's the matter? Did Suzama predict that I am the next messiah?"
"The scripture is authentic."
"You saw it?"
"A piece of it. Suzama wrote it."
He puts down his butter knife. "But how come you never saw her working on it?"
"I was with her most of the time, but not every second. She could have written it on any number of days."
"But she didn't talk to you about it? And you were her best friend?"
"She never talked about it to me. But Suzama kept her own counsel.I doubt if she spoke to anyone about the scripture. But she left it in a place where it could be foundat a time she wished it to be found."
Seymour considers. "How did you talk Dr. Seter into letting you see it?"
There is an edge to his question.
"Are you asking if I slept with his son?"
"I noticed you were talking to him after you told me to get lost."
"I didn't tell you to get lost. I told you to go have fun." I pause. "I convinced both son and father that I have a similar scripture. They want to see it soon."
"Great. We can make one up this afternoon. We can make papyrus and age it in the sun,then you can give me a lesson in drawing hieroglyphics." He pauses. "It wasn'ta very inventive lie."
"It served its purpose." I frown."I will have to give them something substantial to make them let me see the remainder of the scripture."
"Why don't you just give them me to use as a human sacrifice?"
"Stop that. They are not such a bad bunch." Then I have to smile. "But they are busy practicing with automatic weapons in the desert."
"They sound like a nice all-American cult."
"No, I don't think they're that, but they really do have guns. I heard the Seters talk about them when they didn't think I was listening." I pause."But those guns might come in handy."
"Why?"
"Kalika called."
This shocks him. "When?"
"Ahalfhour ago."
"Did she call here?"
"Yes."
He has lost his appetite for his breakfast and sits,staring out the window, his face pale. In the distance is the blue Pacific. Only he and I know how red the water can run when it is diluted with blood. Yet I remind myself that Seymour doesn't remember exactly what Kalika did to him. The time has come, I know,to tell him. Many things.
"How did she get our number?"he mutters.
"Who knows? She gets what she wants."
"If she has our number she has our address. She could be on her way here now."
I shake my head. "If she just wanted to kill us, I don't think she would have called first."
"Whydidshecall then?"
"She said she wanted to hear my voice."
"Like Hitler used to call home to talk to mom?" he asks.
"She hasn't found the child. She wants me to help her find him."
"But you don't know where the kid is."
"She knows that. Still, she seems to feel I can lead her to the Paula and the baby."
Seymour is puzzled. I can see the question coming.
"You must have some idea what is so special about this child?"
I pour myself a glass of orange juice. I have drunk blood only three times since my rebirth as a vampire, and none of my snacks were any the worse for wear in the morning. I suspect, toward the end of his life, that Yaksha did not need blood at allto survive. Still, it tasted good to me, the warm red elixir, better than the orange juice I now sip.
"This child could be the one spoken of in the Suzama scriptures," I say softly.
Seymour stares at me. "You've got to be kidding?"
"No."
He is annoyed. "That's ridiculous. All right, I believe in vampires. I believe in you. I even believe in your bad-tempered daughter. But I don't believe that Jesus was just born in a hospital in Los Angeles. I'm sorry but I can't. It's too weird."
"Do you remember what happened to you afterK alika threw you off the pier?"
He hesitates."Yeah. The water was freezing and I got hypothermia and passed out and you came to my rescue."
"Where did you regain consciousness?"
"Up in the mountains. The next morning."
"You were unconscious for a long time, don't you think?"
"So? What does this have to do with this kid?"
I speak carefully. "Seymour, you did not simply pass out in the cold water. Kalika did not let yougo so easily. She threw something at you,a sharp stake. It was shaped like a spear." I pause. "She threw it so hard it stabbed through your spine and out through your stomach."
Seymour stands. "That's not true."
"It is true. I jumped off the pier and helped you to shore, as I told you.But you were on the beach less than a minute when you finally lost consciousness."
He is agitated. "Then how did the wound disappear? You told me you didn't give me any of your vampire blood."
"At the time I intended to give you my blood.But I was afraid to pull out the stake. I thought it would kill you." I shrug."So I left it in."
He is breathing hard."You're not answering my questions."
I stand and step to his side and put a hand on his shoulder,
"You lost too much blood. Even I couldn't save you." I pause. "You died that night on that beach."
He forces a smile. "Yeah, right. I'm Lazarus, back from the dead."