The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (13 page)

As often as several times a day, he continued to check the library—quite thoroughly—but now, more likely than not, he would be disappointed. Augere was not to be found. So the cinema studies remained a distraction Jason was grateful to have.

He returned home from class one day and paused in the foyer on his way to the kitchen, having heard a loud noise coming from that direction. Could it possibly be Augere, in the kitchen? He doubted it.

It wasn’t him. A man in a grey uniform, wearing a name tag, was removing the ice maker from the refrigerator. The ice machine was not broken.

“Uhm…why are you doing that?”

“Are you the owner of the fridge?” The man asked without looking at him or pausing at his task.

“No.”

“Well, if you were the owner, you’d know why.”

The salty Boston attitude was alive and well and present in the kitchen.

“Well, I live here. I do use the ice machine. And I do know that there is nothing wrong with it.”

“Nope. But you’re still getting a new one.”

“Why?”

“I’m guessing because it is still under warranty and this new one makes small ice cubes and crushed ice, and the original one does not.” His expression said Jason was an annoying child asking stupid questions.

“Oh.” It was the only reply he could make. He hung around until the job was completed and the man had left.

As Augere’s assistant, shouldn’t I have been taking care of this? Is the ice for his benefit or mine? And—more importantly—what does this imply? That even this trivial kind of thing could not be handled by me? that from now on there will be even less for me to do?
Was Augere planning to phase him out altogether? Damn, he hated this insecurity. Instantly he began to feel anxious and depressed. Hadn’t Mr. Genier said Mr. Augere seemed pleased with him? He had to remind himself of that. Had something changed then?

The next day Jason returned home from the gym a little later than usual. He had stopped to load up on junk—er, comfort food, he reminded himself, instead of the healthier stuff he had been focused on of late. The junk binge was his occasional panacea for nothing-is-going-right occasions. Or sometimes, he admitted, for everything is going right celebrations. Which this clearly was not.

He usually indulged for several days until he could not even stand to look at, much less eat, any of the junk anymore, and then he wouldn’t want any for a long time. It usually worked. He had entered the house from the garage through the kitchen and had put all of the stuff away, except one wine cooler. He checked his phone for the fifth time that morning and sighed heavily. Then he headed to his room.

As he crossed the foyer toward his quarters, he noticed the library doors were open. More out of habit than anything else, he paused to look in. Augere sat at his desk, slouched in negligent good manners, watching a DVD. He recognized the opening credits; the film was a favorite of his. Augere turned his head slightly as if in casual acknowledgment of Jason.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you,” Jason said with a quick wave. “That’s a really good film,” he added, nodding toward the TV. He turned to leave.

“Is it worth a second view?” Augere sat upright.

Jason paused. It took him several moments to put together he was being invited to watch the DVD also. Maybe.

“Yes, it’s definitely worth seeing again,” he stated hesitantly.

“You will stay,” Augere intoned. His questions often lacked inflection at the end and sometimes it was hard for Jason to know what was intended.

“Yes…sure.” Jason decided to take the chance it was an invite. He was tired, a little cranky; thirsty, and maybe hungry right now, he wasn’t even sure. He had been looking forward to throwing himself onto his bed in his darkened room, and just zoning out in a cool, inviting respite from the already too hot day.

But Augere’s library felt pleasantly cool; the heavy dark draperies were drawn closed. He really did like this movie. And Augere had actually invited him. There was no question but that he would stay. “Before it starts, do you mind if I just go and grab a few things?” Anxiety spurred fresh interest in the food binge.

Augere pressed the pause button on the remote.

“I’ll be right back. Can I bring you anything?”

“No.”

Jason returned in as few minutes as possible. He had loaded up a tray from the kitchen with a root beer; two Snickers bars; leftover cheesecake; cashews; half of an assorted sub; a small bag of cheese curls and a second wine cooler. He set the tray on the desk between the two of them, and then offered a wine cooler to Augere.

“What?” Jason asked, looking down at the tray when he saw Augere’s bemused expression.

Augere shook his head and pressed play.

Occasionally one of them made a brief comment related to the film, but mostly they both watched quietly. It was a good thing Jason had seen it before as he could barely concentrate. This was a turning point in their relationship; he felt sure of it. Good things would come of this; they would talk more, become better acquainted. Already Jason could see himself at this job for years to come; he had been foolish to feel so insecure. All was good finally; they had made a real connection.

He did not see Augere, not even once, for two weeks afterward. No weekly meeting. Nothing.

Depression, anxiety and insecurity returned in full force as he obsessed over every detail of that afternoon.

He was probably turned off—grossed out—by all the junk food I’d brought. Especially since he never seems to eat, and he is so thin. If only he realized—I usually eat very healthy! You are never like this!
he lamented.
What is wrong with you?
He reproached himself for his poor judgment. For his need for Augere’s presence. For being someone who binged on junk food occasionally.

Maybe Augere thought better of it—that it wasn’t a good idea to blur the line between employer and employee, and that experience they had shared was just “too social.”
Or maybe he just found me boring and dull. Not worth spending any time with at all
. Jason’s dark thoughts and darker imaginings brought his spirits even lower.

“Well,” he sighed.
At least I have my class now to look forward to. And he hasn’t fired me yet. I wonder what he’s waiting for
.

Jason continued going to the gym, mechanically, for something else to occupy him while the cinema class offered welcome distraction.

He sought out company at some of the goth themed bars in Boston—there were not as many choices as there had been when he lived there before. A bar in Cambridge regularly featured “Heros,” a club event where he could dance to old school Goth, 80’s new wave, punk and industrial music and enjoy a vodka or several with the event’s charming and lovely hostess Ms. Tine. Nice people, a good crowd. And now it seemed everyone in town was paired up. Which only emphasized his own sense of isolation, a feeling which was new for him.

He had been going out after class on occasional evenings with some of the people from his cinema class. They would see different films around town and then stop for coffee and discussion afterward.

Several of them went to the Orson Welles theater one evening, and then left to try a new place—Just Desserts near Harvard Square, afterward. Jason lingered with them for a while, but grew less interested as the conversation drifted away from movies. He became restless; he wanted other diversions, and decided to take off on his own.

He stopped at a bar in Central Square, where loud ’70s rock was playing; not a typical choice for him. They had a two for one drink special and he met a girl there. She had sort of come on to him, actually. She was petite, blonde; a little too raucous and flirtatious—not really his type at all. But she was funny, and cute in an effortless way. They ended up making out in a booth at the back of the bar; after a few more drinks and some heavy kissing and groping, it seemed pretty clear they both knew what else they wanted. She didn’t offer to take him home; he thought about taking her to a hotel, but that seemed like a cheap gesture to him. He had lots of room and privacy; they could go to his place.

They got a cab and she continued making out with him on the ride. He suggested they stop on the way and get condoms. “Oh, pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she laughed playfully, pursing her lips.

Jason blushed slightly. “I just thought—”

“Don’t worry,” she said as she grabbed at his arm. “I’m pretty sure I have some in my purse.”

They entered the house through his private entrance, and she expressed her delight at “being lured to such a swank place.” Moments later they were making out on his couch.

She had a rough physicality, a raw sexuality about her that stirred him. It had been a long time since he had sex with anyone. He paused in nuzzling her neck, to ask about the condoms, and she seemed irked he had stopped. “They’re in my bag somewhere,” she said, in an annoyed tone, as she grabbed at his crouch roughly and then started kissing his neck. Her purse lay on the couch between them, and much as he disliked doing so he began to rummage through her bag with one hand since she had made no move to do so herself. He fumbled, blindly searching for the condoms, as she began to unzip and then fondle him. He only had one free hand to search, as his other hand now enclosed one naked voluptuous breast and his eyes were on her chest. He abandoned the search, unable to keep from responding to her and beginning to feel ready now, as he put his mouth to the other naked breast.

His cell phone, lying on the wooden coffee table, began to loudly vibrate.

His first impulse was to completely ignore it. Which he did.

But the vibrating phone continued, insistent. Then he suddenly realized who it must be. He reluctantly tried to pull himself away from her. “I have to take this,” he explained.
Maybe it’s just a wrong number
.

He looked at the caller ID. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hello?” he said into the phone.

“I need you to bring the car around to my door. It is necessary for you to drive me,” Augere said tonelessly.

“Uh…is it something I could do for you tomorrow?”

“No. Be there within ten minutes.”

“I’ll be right there.” He clicked off, and sighed. He explained to the girl he was on call, that the call concerned his job and it was his boss who had just called, and he was really sorry, but he had to go.

“What the fuck?” she said angrily. “Just tell him to fuck off.” She grabbed at his crotch again as he stood beside her.

“No, I really…have to go.” He briefly considered having her wait there until he returned. But he didn’t know her. Just now, he couldn’t even think of her name. And how long would they be gone? What if she ripped him off? Or worse, what if she ripped off Augere? No. Better not take the chance. She had to go.

She was definitely not taking it well. She quickly became belligerent and so foul mouthed that it took him by surprise. True, she was a little drunk. He didn’t expect her to be totally understanding, but he was still surprised at how quickly her attitude turned, how ugly she got toward him.

He called a taxi for her while he hastily rearranged his clothing. He had her out through his private entrance and waiting at the curb in about five minutes. He got the car and backed it out onto the street. Augere emerged from his private entrance just as the girl was climbing into the cab. He had to have seen her, Jason knew, but that didn’t mean he would necessarily connect her to him. Jason had mixed feelings of relief and regret that things had not worked out as planned.

Augere got into the back seat and handed Jason a note with an address on it. It was a specialty liquor store near Harvard Square. Jason stared at the address for a few moments.
This? No liquor store will be open at this hour. This is urgent? This couldn’t wait?

Jason drove toward Massachusetts Avenue. He wasn’t sure if he felt angry or just irritated. Augere had not called him, not even once, in all this time, until now. What timing.

The night was warm and Jason opened the window to get some fresh air. He had begun to sober up quickly. The air felt good, refreshing.

Don’t show him any anger. This is your job. It is what is important to him, not what is important to you. There is plenty of time to fool around. You’ve got it good here. Don’t screw it up. Don’t give him a reason to get rid of you
. Jason repeated the phrases to himself. But he couldn’t suppress a deep sigh. The liquor store was not even going to be open. All this for nothing.

When Jason arrived at the given address, he was surprised to see a man standing inside a darkened liquor store, who appeared to be waiting for them. When the car stopped, the man came out carrying a cardboard box that appeared heavy. It made a clinking sound as he placed in on the back seat opposite Augere. Augere handed the man something—money, Jason guessed, and they spoke for several minutes in what sounded to Jason like a Slavic language. Then the man wished Jason a good evening in perfect, unaccented English.

Augere then told him to take the turnpike to 495 West.

Jason nodded and started the car.
Now where are we going?
They had been on the turnpike for quite some time when Augere told him to get off at the next exit.

As he took the exit ramp, Jason became nervous. Nothing was out here. It was an unfamiliar area and all around him there was only deep dark woods—or maybe open fields—it was so dark he really couldn’t tell for sure. Even the car’s high beams did little to penetrate the darkness. They were in the middle of nowhere.

Why did he bring me out to this desolate place?
His paranoid thoughts returned. He didn’t feel safe suddenly.
Now what?
He had an impulse to step on the gas and just get out of there, to drive toward any place where there was light, people, safety, and—

“Stop! Here.” The words startled him and he swerved the car onto the shoulder of the road, or what he could see of it, and stopped. He turned around quickly to look at Augere, but all he saw was the rear door closing. Augere was gone! Jason was stunned. He must have gotten out even before the car had stopped. Jason quickly locked all the doors and sat peering all around him in the darkness. There was nothing to see but pitch black. They seemed to be in a thickly wooded area. He still couldn’t be sure. The sky was darker than usual and starless. It was even too dark and creepy for him.