"Yes,"
"I knew there was something about you."
"Yes."
There is pain in his voice. "But you couldn't have killed my father."
"But I did. I killed him without mercy. I have killed thousands over the last five thousand years. I am a monster."
His eyes are moist. "But you would not do anything to hurt me. You want me to leave now because you do not want me to get hurt. You love me, I love you. Tell me you didn't kill him."
I take his hands in mine. "Ray, this is a beautiful world and it is a horrible world. Most people never see the horror that there is. For most that is fine. But you must look at it now. You must look deep into my eyes and see that I am not human, that I do inhuman things. Yes, I killed your father. He died in my arms.
He will not be coming home. And if you do not leave here, you will not return home, either. Then your father's dying wish will have been in vain."
Ray weeps. "He made a wish?"
"Not with words, but, yes. I picked up your picture and he cried. By then he knew what I was, though it was too late for him. He did not want me to touch you." I caress Ray's arms. "But it is not too late for you. Please go."
"But if you are so horrible why did you touch me, love me?"
"You remind me of someone."
"Who?"
"My husband, Rama. The night I was made a vampire, I was forced to leave him. I never saw him again."
"Five thousand years ago?"
"Yes."
"Are you really that old?"
"Yes. I knew Krishna."
"Hare Krishna?"
The moment is so serious, but I have to laugh. "He was not the way you think from what you see these days. Krishna wasthere are no words for him. He was everything. It is he who has protected me all these years."
"You believe that?"
I hesitate, but it is true. Why can't I accept the truth? "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he told me he would if I listened to him. And because it has been so. Many times, even with my great power, I should have perished, But I never did: God blessed me." I add, "And he cursed me,"
"How did he curse you?"
Now there are tears in my eyes. "By putting me in this situation again. I cannot lose you again, my love, but I cannot keep you with me, either. Go now before Yaksha arrives. Forgive me for what I did to your father. He was not a bad man. He only wanted the money so that he could give it to you. I know he loved you very much,"
"But"
"Wait!" I interrupt. Suddenly I hear something, the note of a flute, flowing with the noise of the waves, a single note, calling me to it, telling me that it is already too late. "He is here," I whisper,
"What? Where?"
I stand and walk to the wide windows that overlook the sea. Ray stands beside me. Down by the ocean, where the waves crash against the rocks, stands a solitary figure dressed in black. His back is to us, but I see the flute in his hand. His song is sad, as always. I don't know if he plays for me or himself, but maybe it is for both of us.
"Is that him?" Rays asks;
"Yes."
"He's alone. We should be able to take him. Do you have a gun?"
"I have one under my pillow over there. But a gun will not stop him. Not unless he was riddled with bullets."
"Why are you giving up without a fight?"
"I am not giving up. I am going to talk to him."
"I'm coming with you."
I turn to Ray and rub the hair on his head. He feels so delicate to me. "No. You cannot come. He is less human than I am. He will not be interested in what a human has to say." I put my finger to his lips as he starts to protest. "Do not argue with me. I do not argue."
"I am not going to leave," he says.
I sigh. "It may be too late for that already. Stay then. Watch. Pray."
"To Krishna?"
"God is God. His name doesn't matter. But I think only he can help us now."
A few minutes later I stand ten feet behind Yaksha. The wind is strong, bitter. It seems to blow straight out of the cold sun which hangs like a bloated drop of blood over the hazy western horizon. The spray from the waves clings to Yaksha's long black hair like so many drops of dew. For a moment I imagine him a statue that has stood outside my home for centuries. Always, he has been in my life, even when he was not there. He has stopped playing his flute.
"Hello," I say to this person I haven't spoken to since the dawn of history.
"Did you enjoy my song?" he asks, his back still to me.
"It was sad."
"It is a sad day."
"The day is ending," I say.
He nods as he turns. "I want it to end, Sita."
The years have not changed his appearance. Why does that surprise me when they haven't changed mine? I don't know. Yet I scrutinize him more closely. A man has to learn something in so many years, I think. He cannot be the beast that he was. He smiles at my thought;
"The form changes, the essence remains the same," he says. "That is something Krishna told me about nature. But for us the form does not change."
"It is because we are unnatural."
"Yes. Nature abhors the invader. We are not welcome in this world."
"But you look well."
"I am not. I am tired. I wish to die."
"I don't," I say.
"I know."
"You tested me with Slim and his people. To see how hard I would fight."
"Yes."
"But I passed the test. I don't want to die. Leave here. Go do what you must. I want nothing to do with it."
Yaksha shakes his head sadly, and that is one change in himhis sorrow. It softens him somehow, making his eyes less cold. Yet the sorrow scares me more than his wicked glee used to. Yaksha was always so full of life for a being that would later be labeled the undead.
"I would let you go if I could," he says. "But I cannot."
"Because of the vow you took with Krishna?"
"Yes."
"What were his words?"
"He told me that I would have his grace if I destroyed the evil I had created."
"I suspected as much. Why didn't you destroy me?"