The further he got, the more spread out the trailers were, and as he reached the end of a dead end, he saw the number on a light-blue, vinyl trailer, and realized he’d found it. The tiny mobile home was dilapidated. The screen door was crooked on its hinges, the small stairs were cracked, and the lawn was overgrown with knee-high weeds. The home was set back, and hidden from the others by a large clump of bushes. It was private. But not the kind of privacy Sam had imagined.
Sam felt embarrassed. He was so embarrassed to have brought Samantha to this place, and to be introducing her to his Dad. He wished he could just take off, or just curl up and die.
He parked, and killed the engine, and they both sat there. They kind of looked at each other. Sam checked the navigation system for the tenth time to make sure it was the right address. It was.
“Are we getting out?” Samantha finally asked.
Sam didn’t really know what to do. What kind of man could live in such a place? What kind of Dad did he come from?
He wanted to just turn the engine, step on the gas, and keep going. But he couldn’t.
Sam swallowed hard, opened the door and got out, and Samantha followed.
The two of them approached the house. They took two steps up, the rotted wood stairs sinking, and he pulled back the creaking screen door.
Sam took a deep breath, reached up, and knocked.
There came a bang, and then a rustling inside. Seconds later, the door opened.
And there, across from him, stood his father.
TWENTY
Roger led them back onto the brick walkway, through the manicured grounds, and past the Daniel Fisher House. They exited back on the street, made a quick turn, and then, before they knew it, he was leading them up the front steps and into the huge, historic whaling church.
Caleb and Caitlin looked at each other in wonder. They had just walked by it.
The door was locked, but Roger had the key. He unlocked it, and held it open for them.
“We didn’t move it far,” he said, with a smile and a wink.
They entered, and he closed and locked the door behind them.
Caitlin was taken aback as they entered the church. It was breathtaking. So light and airy, so beautiful in its simplicity, it was unlike any church she had ever been in. There were no crosses, no religious figures, no ornamentation, not even any columns or beams—it was just a huge open room, lined in every direction with old windows. There were rows and rows of simple, wooden pews, enough to hold hundreds of people. It was a very peaceful place.
“This is the largest open-ceilinged room in America,” Rogers said. “No columns, no beams. Master shipbuilders built this place. And it still stands as well today as it did back then.”
“So is this how you spend your days now, Roger?” Caleb asked, smiling. “Looking after an old church?”
Roger smiled. “It beats getting you out of trouble,” he said. Then he sighed, a long, tired sigh. “I’m tired, Caleb. I’ve been around a lot longer than you are, and I’ve just about had enough. I like this place. It’s quiet. I don’t bother anyone, and no one bothers me. I’m tired of all these god damn wars all the time. Covens, politics….I like being on my own. I like this place.
“And more importantly, I get to look after it. Honestly, after all these years, I didn’t think anyone would come along. I was starting to believe that there was no such thing as The One. But I guess I was wrong.” Roger looked at Caitlin. “And now you’ve put me out of a job.”
Roger turned to Caleb. “Before I bring you, there’s one thing I want to ask of you,” he said, looking at Caleb.
Caitlin wonder what it could be, what the price would be for admission to such a valuable object, something that this man had guarded his entire life.
Caleb looked back. “Anything, old friend,” he said.
“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you play,” Roger said.
He turned and gestured towards an old, grand piano sitting in the corner of the room.
“The Pathétique. Second movement. Just like in Vienna.”
Caleb surveyed the piano. He hesitated.
“It’s been a long time, Roger.”
Roger smiled wide. “I’m sure you still got it.”
Caitlin suddenly realized that there was so much about Caleb she didn’t know—so much she would probably never know. She felt so young in comparison. She realized that Caleb and Roger had experienced more over the centuries than she and Caleb probably ever would. It saddened her. She so badly wanted to be immortal—a full, true vampire, just like him, by his side forever.
She watched as Caleb walked slowly across the empty church, the floorboards creaking beneath his black leather boots. He took three steps up onto the wooden platform and walked across it, all the way to the corner. He pulled the cover off the Steinway piano, and sat.
He lifted the lid, and stared.
He closed his eyes, and sat there. Caitlin wondered what he was thinking, what sort of memories it was evoking for him. And then, after several moments of silence, she wondered if he’d change his mind, if he wouldn’t play after all.
He finally reached up with his hands, and began to play.
And it was beautiful.
The notes echoed throughout the huge, empty church, reverberating off the walls, filling the empty space. It seemed to bounce off of everything.
Caitlin had never heard music like this. Nothing even remotely like this. It made her want to capture the moment. And it made her want to cry.
At that moment, she felt profoundly sad, as it struck her, again, that there was so much about Caleb that she would probably never know. She would just have to accept that she knew as much as she did, and learn to be happy to be with him for the short time that she was.
It also saddened her, as it made her think of Jonah. She hadn’t thought of him in so long. When she was with Caleb, she felt no need to think of him. But he was still there, somewhere deep in her consciousness, even from just the short time they’d spent together, and a part of her still felt badly for ending it so abruptly. Whatever they’d had together, it felt unresolved. A part of her felt that someday they would see each other again. She didn’t know how, but she just knew that they would.
Not that she even wanted to. Especially at this moment. She felt wholeheartedly devoted to Caleb, and she hoped that would never change.
The music filled her soul as she stood there for what felt like forever, listening. Neither she nor Roger moved. They both stood there, frozen in silence, as Caleb played perfectly.