Gaia comforts her. "She always went her own path. Let her go this way."
Yet Alanda later sheds a tear as they slide her friend's body into the pond. For a moment her friend floats on the surface of the water, and the reflection of the stars frame her figure. And when Alanda glances up, she sees the same outline in the heavens. For a moment her friend is constellation and it gives her a measure of comfort. But when Alanda looks back down, her friend has sunk beneath the mirror of the water and is gone.
"It is like she never was," Alanda whispers.
"It is like that for all of us," Gaia says.
One moonless night, when I am twenty years of age, I am awakened by a sound outside. Besides me sleeps my husband, Rama, and on my other side is our daughter,L alita. I don't know why the sound wakes me. It was not loud. But it was peculiar, the sound of nails scraping over a blade. I get up and go outside my house and stand in the dark and look around.
For a long time I stand there, expecting to meet someone.
But there is no one there.
Finally I return to my bed and fall asleep.
The next morning I am playing with my Lalita by the river when a strange man comes by. He is tall and powerfully built. In his right hand he holds a lotus flower, in his left a gold flute. His legs are long and his every movement is bewitching. I cannot help but stare at him, and I am delighted when he comes and kneels beside me on the bank of the river. For some reason, I know he means me no harm.
"Hello," he says, staring at the water. "How are you?"
"I am fine." I pause. "Do I know you, sir?"
A faint smile touches his lips. "Yes. We have met before."
I hesitate. He does seem familiar but I cannot place him.
"I am sorry, I don't remember," I say.
He finally looks at me and his eyes are very blue. They remind me of the stars at night; they seem to sparkle with light from the heavens. "My name is Krishna," he says.
I bow my head. "I am Sita. This is my daughter,L alita. Are you new to this area?"
He turns back to the water. "I have been here before."
"Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like some food?"
He glances at me, out the corners of his eyes, and I feel a thrill in my heart. There is such love in his glance, I don't understand how it can be so. "I was wondering if I could do anything for you, Sita," he says.
"My Lord?" I ask, and I feel he is deserving of the title.
He shrugs faintly. "I merely came to see if you were happy. If you are, then I will be on my way."
I have to laugh. "My Lord, I am not long married. My husband is a wonderful man whom I love dearly and God has seen fit to grace us with a beautiful child. We are all healthy and have plenty to eat. I cannot imagine beingany happier than I am right now."
He nods briefly and then stands. "Then I will say goodbye, Sita."
But I jump up. "You came all the way here just to see if I was happy?"
"Yes." His eyes are kind as he looks at me for the last time. "Your happiness is all that matters to me. Remember me, Sita."
Then he walks away and I never see him again.
But I never forget him. Krishna.
Epilogue
SeymourDo rsten sat at his computer in his bedroom and stared at the words on the screen. It was late, close to dawn, and he had been writing most of the night. For the last six months, in fact, he had worked almost every night without rest. But it didn't matter how much sleep he missed. He could always sleep during the day. Because he was very sick with AIDS, he no longer attended school, or even went out of the house. Indeed, his personal physician thought he wouldn't live out the year, and it was almost Christmas. Yet the tragedy of his early demise did not disturb him, at least not at the moment. Like his imagined heroine, he was happy in the end, to have even reached the end. He had just finished his story. Her story.
About AlisaPerne, his Sita. The Last Vampire.
Seymour felt as if he had taken her everywhere she could go, but at the same time he knew that it was she who had led him on the adventures. Lifted him up to heights he could not have imagined if not for his serious illness. For him, the constant experience of his waning mortality had been the greatest muse. She had never said who she was sending her thoughts out to, but it was to him, always to him. But he had made her immortal, and himself, so that he wouldn't have to be afraid of his own death. He knew, in the end, that she had not been afraid, and that her only regret had been that she had not been able to say goodbye to him. But at least he could say goodbye to her.
Seymour leaned forward and turned off the screen.
There was a noise outside his window.
He glanced over. Quickly, he always did.
But it was nothing. A cat, the wind.
But such sounds, this late at night, always made him think of her. Ageless Sita coming through the window to give him her magical blood. To save him from his illness. But she had chosen the only destiny worthy of her. She had simply decided to vanish, to exist only in his heart.
Seymour coughed weakly and brushed away a tear that came to his eye. He should be in a hospital. His lungs were half-filled with fluid, and he couldn't draw in a full breath without pain. Still, he thought, it was better to be at home with his computer and his story. He just wished his heart could beat for her forever.
Seymour was going to miss her. Yeah. "Goodbye, Sita," he said to the empty screen. He thought he would miss her forever.
THE END