Authors: K.A. Poe
He shook his head, “No. I have something else in mind.”
“
Really? What
?”
“I'm afrai
d you will have to wait and see,” h
e grinned at me.
“Okay, fine,
” I laughed, eager to see what it was. A question suddenly popped into my head and I stopped stirring abruptly. “How do you think Paul found this place?”
“He could have followed us at some point. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with.”
When my pasta was done, I sat across from him at the table and began eating. I no longer felt self-conscious when he watched me eat. Plus, his attention was apparently someplace else tonight as he gazed thoughtfully at the door. After eating, I spent the next two hours curled up in the nook chair reading through portions of the book he had made for me. Before I knew it, I had dozed off. The book slipped from my fingers and crashed noisily on the ground.
I jumped up and gasped at the sound, then sighed with relief when I acknowledged the cause. My vision was fuzzy at first, but once it adjusted I realized Salem was nowhere to be seen. I half-expected him to be on the sofa, or even at the dining table. I picked up the book and laid it on one of the shelves beside the chair. As I stumbled tiredly into the kitchen, my gaze was immediately drawn to the front door.
The windows had been replaced by slick new ones. The backdrop was made up of misshapen colorful stained glass varying
in blues, greens, and purples.
Against the left window was the image in the shape of an ebony bat. Beside the bat, on the opposite window, was the image of a raven painted in a mixture of black, blue and purple. I had to step back to realize the creature's wings were curved into the shape of the upper half of a heart, while their bottom halves were connected at the tail to form the end of
the
heart
.
The scream that burst through my lips sounded powerful enough to shatter the new windows when Salem came up from behind and twisted his arms around my waist.
“You
scared
me!” I gasped, relaxing into his embrace.
“I noticed,” h
e chuckled. “What do you think of it?”
“It's beautiful,
” I said, admiring the windows still. “
It does make me want to ask though..
.”
“No, vampires can't turn into b
ats, as I have told you already,” h
e spoke as though he had read my mind. “It was the only thing I could think of that made sense.”
“I like it,
” I said happily. “A lot!”
“I'm glad,” h
e turned me around to face him. “You didn't sleep very long.”
“You're right,
” I knew what was coming. I couldn't fight the exhaustion forever.
I kissed him gently once and he took my hand, leading me upstairs. There was a light on in the hallway, illuminating the picture frames along the walls. I stopped abruptly behind Salem and gazed at the images. The first one to catch my eyes was the photograph of a little girl cradled in a woman's arms. They both had brilliant blonde hair that reminded me of spun gold. The woman was wearing a simple white gown with blue trim along the neckline and a wide happy smile across her lips. The child was bundled up in a wool
blanket with
her head nestled against the woman's bosom. I took my eyes off of the picture to look at Salem; his eyes were withdrawn and sorrowful.
“This is Hannah and your mother, isn't it?” I asked in a gentle, yet curious voice.
“Yes,” h
is answer was simple, and I could tell it hurt him to even look at the pictures, which made me wonder why he even had them.
“Did you ‘make’
these?” I asked, knowing it was impossible for such pictures to have existed back when his family was alive – not to mention they would have burned in the fire.
“Of course...my
memories of their faces are
so vivid, it's almost painful,” h
e frowned. I squeezed his hand gently.
“They were beautiful, Salem,
” I smiled despite his sadness, “What was your mother's name?”
“Margaret,” he said fondly, “e
veryone called her Maggie, though.
And my father's name was Arthur,” h
e directed my attention to a gold-framed picture slightly higher up on the wall. The image depicted a fine young man with similar features to Salem's, notably the black hair. Arthur's hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had a faint mustache above his upper lip. He wore thin spectacles that made him appear slightly older than he was.
“I was
starting
to wond
er where you got your hair from,
” I said as I looked up at him. “You definitely have Maggie's eyes, though.”
“Personally, I am gra
teful I didn't inherit her hair,” h
e smiled,
and then
pointed up at another picture, set in between the other two. It was of a beautiful boy – perhaps ten-years-old – sitting in a rocking chair holding a black kitten on his lap. I knew without a doubt who I was looking at.
“You were handsome even then,
” I said in awe.
“Oh, you mean to say y
ou weren't ogling at the cat?” h
e grinned as I playfully slapped him on the arm.
“No, I wasn’
t
, although he is cute,
too
,
” I shook my head, smiling. “Did the cat have a name?”
“He didn't have a
name for a long time, actually,” h
e mused. “We generally referred to him simply as 'Kitty', until Hannah was old enough to
speak. They had an amazing bond,” h
e smiled sadly. “She named him Daniel.”
My brows furrowed. “That's a weird name for a cat.”
Salem shrugged. “When my mother inquired about the source of name, she said it was the name of a man she met...but Hannah was obviously too young to know anyone, so my parents assumed she had created an imaginary friend and passed the name along to the cat.”
“Wow,” I whispered, “a
nd what’
s behind this other door?” I asked, indicating the mysterious door on the right wall, beside the picture frames.
“That's the guest bedroom,” h
e shrugged. “It was empty before you arrived...I had intended for you to use it the first night you stayed, but considering you objected that offer...”
“How do you remember them so vividly, Salem?” I asked suddenly, remembering how he had once told me that his memory of his mortal life was vague.
“I suppose those were some o
f the memories I didn't repress,” h
e shrugged
again
.
Before I had the chance to say anymore, Salem had me in his arms and was carrying me off to bed.
The air outside was chilly and the sky showed promise of snow. Salem and I walked hand-in-hand toward the clearing. I could tell from the thoughtful expression pasted on his face that he was up to something, but I kept quiet. I wore a thick sweater over a long-sleeved shirt, but shivered nevertheless. Salem, however, was completely at ease wearing a pale blue short-sleeved T-shirt that made his eyes appear even brighter than usual. I envied him at that moment. In fact, I envied many things about him. Immortality, while he spoke of it as a curse, was something any human ought to lust for. Never having to sleep! I could only imagine the possibilities. How many books could I consume in the saved time
I would have from not sleeping - o
r how well I could le
arn to play the piano!
I was pulled from my thoughts when Salem spoke, announcing our arrival. We were a few feet away from the creek, which was covered with a thin sheet of ice. I shivered just from
the site of it
.
“Are you sure this was a good idea?” I laughed. “I would hate to actually get the flu, although Karma probably owes it to me.”
“Don't worry,” h
e smiled. That familiar violet glimmer in his eyes appeared and I knew something was ab
out to happen. “Close your eyes,” h
e whispered.
I obeyed, awaiti
ng his command to reopen them.
“Go ahead, open them.”
My nose reacted
before my eyes had the chance. I could smell t
he distinct
aroma
of burning
wood
. Then my ears recognized the sound of crackling embers. I opened my eyes to find a bright, billowing fire amongst a pile of logs that hadn't previously been there. Lying roughly three feet from the warm fire was a lavender blanket laid out across the grass. Atop the blanket was an unopened basket.
I eyed Salem curiously. “What’
s this all about?” I asked.
“I'll tell you in a moment
,” h
e said with a sly smile. He sat down on the blanket and patted the empty space beside him.
I sat next to him and he opened the basket to reveal a sliver of cake identical to the one I had asked for the first night we met. “Well, this can't be i
n celebration of the day we met,
” I said as I tried to piece everything together.
“No,
you are right
. It isn’t,” h
e offered me a fork. “November 12th, 1885 was my birthday.”
My eyes widened as I realized what he was saying. “Today would be your birthday!” I gasped. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“It a
ctually sort of slipped my mind,” h
e shrugged. “It's not something I really think about anymore.”
I reached over and hugged him tightly. “Happy birthday Salem!” I kissed him delicately on the cheek. “I
can’t
even
imagine
how nice it must be not to have to
actually get older on your birthday
.”
His eyes were dark. “Alex...do you remember what I said to you the first day we met? About being blessed with another year of life on your birthday?”
“Of course,
” I nodded, taking a bite of the cake. “Why?”
“Today might be my birthday, but it truly isn't something to celebrate.” How had this gone from a celebration to a moment of sadness? “While you get to continue growing, aging...I'm stuck like this.”
“I think of it
the exact opposite,
” I said thoughtfully, putting my fork down. “Aging isn't
fun
– it's scary. Knowing that someday I will be fragile, wrinkled, old, and eventually die...” I shuddered at the idea. “You, on the other hand, you will be the same for the rest of time.”
He stared at me for a long time without speaking. I allowed him to have his moment of silence while I indulged in more cake. “I suppose I unders
tand it from your point of view,” h
e said quietly.
“Good,
” I replied, “It's much more depressing on my
side
of things
,
I think
. You still get to live, even if you don't age. What's so special about aging, anyway?”
His eyes were now focusing on the fire, and I wondered if it was bothering him with memories of his family's death. “It's most every human's dream to go through the natural course of life. You're a child, you go to school, you learn, you finish school, you meet someone special, you get married, you have a family, you grow old t
ogether, and you die together,
”
The orange hues of the fire danced in the darkness of his pupils. “That opportunity was stripped from me.”
“Not
completely
...” I put my fork down again, no longer interested in eating. “Salem, you have
seen
so much more than any human ever could. You have spent years traveling, reading, learning. We get a limited time on this planet, while you get all the time in the world!” He turned his gaze on me again, “Plus, you don't need to be human to meet someone special, right?”
His expr
ession softened. “Of course not,” h
e pushed the basket and cake away and pulled me to him. “Let's not spend this w
hole afternoon dwelling on that,” h
e said with a smile and pressed his lips gently t
o mine.
I went to return the kiss when he jerked away suddenly, his eyes alert and scanning the area. “What-” he pushed a finger to my lips before I could finish sp
eaking. Then, I heard it, too: a
faint rustling nearby. I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed it was just a doe galloping through the clearing. Salem's lips twitched slightly.
“Do you mind...if I...” h
is words trailed off. “Stay here, for a moment. I'll be right back.”
I nodded, knowing what he was doing. I covered my ears, awaiting the sound of the poor animal losing its life. I watched the fire weave back and forth as the wind pushed against it, and a shudder ran through me. Salem returned moments later, a hint of red to his eyes, but I tried to ignore it. He sat beside me again.