The Empty (8 page)

Oskar nodded. “My father passed when I was still a student. Consumption took him. Frieda married Wilhelm when she was sixteen. He is an abusive man and I have often been forced to intercede in their affairs. When my mother died four years ago, Wilhelm took my sister’s portion of the inheritance to purchase this carnival. Due to the transitory nature of carnival life, I feared for Frieda. If I were to have remained at the university, she would have been traveling the countryside with no advocate. Wilhelm is rash, vengeful, jealous of her beauty, and prone to assault her should any other look her way. I knew I must remain nearby lest she be harmed.”

“Why not simply kill Wilhelm and free your sister?”

Oskar seemed astounded. His face crumpled into a peculiar expression and his eyes narrowed so much so that Dolnaraq could no longer see the green of them. “Have you learned nothing of human society in all of our time together?”

Dolnaraq remained expressionless.

“Civilized men do not simply kill other men they do not like,” added Oskar when it became clear Dolnaraq was offering no response.

“I have learned that civilized men do in fact kill one another for numerous reasons; many of which are less substantial than those you’ve just presented.”

“It is illegal—immoral.”

“And quite common,” added Dolnaraq.

Oskar shook his head. “The point is this: Frieda is the reason a learned man scrapes up manure in this shabby little establishment. I signed on in order to be near to her. Now, I do believe its time you continued with your reading.” Oskar rose, set the metal stool aside, and strolled off to tend to the elephant.

* * * *

The relationship between Dolnaraq and Oskar was more than that of teacher and student. Just over three weeks into their lessons together, long before Dolnaraq had much benefited from Oskar’s teachings, the young reyaqc was, once again, depleted. His energy level dropped significantly no matter how much he ate and drank. His limbs shook and his vision blurred. Oskar approached the cage as Dolnaraq lay huddled in the corner. “Otto, you are ill, my friend.”

“It is time. I require essence.”

Oskar became nervous at this, obviously recalling the last time Dolnaraq had claimed a need for “essence.”

“What is this essence? You’ve mentioned it before.”

“It is…essence. I know no other way to explain it.” The words were slow and difficult to speak. Dolnaraq was weak, and he was not yet fluent in the German language.

“The essence,” asked Oskar. “Did you take essence from me when you attacked me last?”

Dolnaraq nodded.

“This is why your face has changed, why you’ve come, in some fashion, to resemble me?”

Dolnaraq nodded again, cradling himself in his own arms as a bone-deep shiver raced from one end of his form to the other.

“What will happen if you receive no essence?”

“I will die.”

Oskar nodded and paced left and then right before the cage, his hands buried in his pockets, his fingers fiddling with the keys within. “If I should offer you essence, what would become of me?”

Dolnaraq stared blankly at the man for several seconds before speaking. “You would become my giver?” he asked, astonishment oozing through the syllables.

“Giver?” asked Oskar.

“One who gives freely of his essence.”

Oskar nodded, continuing to pace, continuing to rattle his keys. “Again, what would become of me?”

With great effort, Dolnaraq pulled himself across the straw strewn floor and to the bars. “If you were to become my giver, I would become more like you.”

“And me. What danger is there for me? I am told that I was in near coma for three days after your last… After you took essence.”

Dolnaraq stared at Oskar. The green eyes bore both curiosity and fright. The generous mouth neither grinned nor frowned, but seemed taut with anticipation. Both hands were pressed deep in Oskar’s pockets and Dolnaraq could hear loose change and keys clicking together as he worked them round and round the tiny space. The small man smelled of adrenaline, and Dolnaraq sensed Oskar was battling a very strong urge to flee. “If I take from you,” said Dolnaraq. “If I am careful, you will most likely live.”

“If you are careful?”

Dolnaraq nodded.

“And if you are not careful?”

Dolnaraq stared blankly forward.

Oskar rattled his change some more. “How very careful can you be?”

Dolnaraq did not answer immediately, but stared at the man for many seconds before saying, “I will try.”

Oskar jiggled his keys. He paced left then right. Several times it seemed he was about to speak, but then remained silent. Eventually he paused before the cage. “You will surely die without my essence?”

“Yours or another’s.”

Oskar nodded and jiggled his keys.

“Free me,” offered Dolnaraq. “I will seek the essence of another. You will remain unharmed.”

“And that other, will he remain unharmed?”

Dolnaraq answered with a blank stare.

A turn to the left, three steps in that direction. A pivot, three steps back. Jiggle, jiggle. “All right,” said Oskar. “This we will do, but please…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to complete the thought.

“I will take care,” offered Dolnaraq.

Oskar nodded, hesitated, and then stepped to within Dolnaraq’s reach.

“Relax.” Dolnaraq reached out wrapping his right palm around the back of Oskar’s neck. “I will draw it out slowly, and attempt to take only what I require.” With that, Dolnaraq inserted the tiny hollow spines into the back of Oskar’s neck. There was an almost indiscernible pop and then Oskar’s eyes widened, meeting Dolnaraq’s gaze, locking there for several seconds before closing. Dolnaraq withdrew his hand and crawled off into his corner without another word.

In this way, Oskar became Dolnaraq’s giver. With time, Dolnaraq grew more adept at withdrawing essence in moderation and Oskar became more or less accustomed to the process, though invariably it left him drained and useless for the following day. These constant infusions from the same source did bring about changes in Dolnaraq. The obvious effect was that with each passing week, the young reyaqc more and more closely resembled his giver. As well, Dolnaraq had not had access to a fox in many months and his animal-like appearance diminished almost entirely.

This infuriated Wilhelm, who stormed about the carnival cursing and stomping, blaming Oskar for the situation. Oskar, for his part, never revealed the nature of his relationship with “the wolf boy.” Truly, there was very little to tell. Dolnaraq had revealed to Oskar only what must be revealed. Never did he mention the word reyaqc. Never did he explain his origin, or the true nature of his species. Never did he even utter his true name. That was a name for the reyaqc. No human should be entrusted with too much. To Oskar, he would remain Otto the wolf boy.

One day, Dolnaraq and Oskar sat poring over a scholarly article about the current politics of Europe. Oskar contended that a rise in nationalism between many European states combined with an ever more complex series of alliances and treaties would inevitably lead to war—possibly a war such as the world had never known. He urged Dolnaraq that if ever he should be free, that he should flee to America, a growing nation across the great Atlantic. Powerful, but not yet fully aware of its potential greatness. “There is much opportunity there. With luck, they will remain detached from the problems of Germany and our neighbors. I fear our dear land, Otto, will be at the heart of the coming conflict.”

Dolnaraq protested that he was not human, and thus not concerned with the battles of men. But Oskar countered, saying, “You live in a world dominated by humans. It will only become more so. You are bright, bright as anyone I have ever known. I have given you my face, the face of a man. You no longer resemble an animal. Adapt, learn, grow. Be who you are and what you are, but understand the world in which you live.”

It was then that Wilhelm appeared as if from nowhere, a bundle of furs beneath his arm. These, he tossed harshly at Oskar. “Glue these to his face and arms,” shouted the lout. “The crowds no longer believe in the beast.”

“I am not a beast!” shouted Dolnaraq from his cage.

Wilhelm marched forward, but took care to remain beyond Dolnaraq’s reach. “You are an animal. I hunted you, I captured you, I own you. No matter what this little man teaches you in his sissy little books, you will always be a stinking animal.”

Wilhelm marched away as Dolnaraq glared at the man’s flabby and disgusting backside.

Two nights later, Tresset appeared.

Dolnaraq sensed the familiar scent on the air and immediately gazed about the darkness seeking his long lost companion. His stomach jumped and a tiny crease of a smile overtook his stoic features. Oskar was with him, but knew none of this. He was once again expounding on the opportunities of America, saying that it was time he took his savings, gathered up his sister, and fled to this emerging giant across the waves. “Otto,” he said. “Perhaps you should accompany us. Aside from that tuft of red fur on your left hand, you now look entirely human.” Oskar paused. “Well, there are the eyes. But dark glasses should cover those. Think of it, Otto. A new life, a fresh…”

And then Tresset slew him.

There was a sharp ripping sound, a hiss of air from the now-opened windpipe. Oskar’s eyes went wide, his tongue protruded, and his useless, bloodied form tumbled to the dirt.

Dolnaraq stared blankly at the corpse for perhaps five seconds, and then met Tresset’s gaze. “The keys to the cage are in the human’s pocket.”

Within moments, Dolnaraq was free for the first time in nearly a year. Filling his lungs, he relished the purity of the air. He knew it was impossible that the air would be any different, for his cage had bars and so he breathed of the same air now as he had breathed before, but nonetheless it smelled fresher somehow.

There was a sudden commotion. Wilhelm had heard the disturbance, or perhaps he had simply happened upon the scene. Either way, he was there now, shouting with all of his bluster. “Beast!” he cried. “The beast is free! He has slain his keeper!”

Dolnaraq was upon him before the large man could hope to flee.

“See,” stammered Wilhelm as Dolnaraq harshly grabbed him by the collar. “See, I knew it. You are an animal.”

“I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!” bellowed Dolnaraq. Then, even though his once long and deadly fangs had reduced to human-like teeth, he plunged his mouth onto Wilhelm’s neck, bit deep, and tore away a hunk of flesh nearly the size of a baseball.

Dolnaraq released the man, allowing him to stumble to his knees, clutching at the enormous gap in his enormous neck. He spit the meat of the man into Wilhelm’s face, and turned, marching directly to Oskar’s bloody corpse. Here, he knelt on one knee, slipped his hand into Oskar’s left rear pocket and withdrew the man’s wallet. He already bore Oskar’s face. Now he bore the man’s identification. A quick trip to Oskar’s trailer and he would bare his banking information as well. Dolnaraq made to rise, and then glanced down at the corpse, truly noting it perhaps for the first time. “Dolnaraq,” he said quietly. “My true name is Dolnaraq. I am in your debt.”

With that he rose, gazing deeply into Tresset’s eyes, wanting perhaps to hug him or in some other way express the joy he had in seeing him. But such affections were the things of humanity. Besides, there was little time. Surely someone had heard the commotion. Others would investigate.

“Come,” he said in breathless excitement. “We go to America.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

1910-1911

As it turned out, Oskar Kohler was a wealthy man. And as Dolnaraq had taken Kohler’s identity, it was he who was now wealthy. This was not a fortune, but still enough to allow two young reyaqc a comfortable upper middleclass existence in the ever-expanding New York City of the 1910s. The late Oskar’s money had not come from his years as a university professor; that position did not enable a man to accumulate significant sums. And obviously, the wealth had not come from his time serving in the traveling carnival. No, this was family money passed on after the death of his parents, and Dolnaraq was quite fortunate to have it. It’s said that knowledge is power, well no less so is money. Dolnaraq was able to provide passage to America for himself as well as for the not-quite-conventional-looking Tresset with few questions and limited paperwork. As well, a few well-placed dollars allowed the two to bypass the barn-like immigration port at Ellis Island and its physical examinations which neither reyaqc would likely pass. Instead, they moved through a much less densely populated facility reserved for first-class passengers. Most of the normal bureaucracy had been skirted and the two soon found themselves happily situated in a fourth floor apartment near Columbia University where Dolnaraq enrolled for the purpose of attaining his first of many degrees.

Knowing the money was not infinite, he’d met with several brokerage firms, selected two, and invested his excess funds with the hopes of multiplying his investments. Dolnaraq proved to have a knack for increasing his holdings, and by the time the great depression came and went nearly two decades later, the young scholar had maneuvered himself into millionaire status.

While Dolnaraq loved his new life, treasured the verve of civilization, thrived on the fast-paced metropolitan experience, Tresset found a renewed hatred for his human cousins. Of course, there was the human smell, and in a city this size, that odor was overbearing. Additionally, though Tresset had now been over four months without animal essence, his appearance was still peculiar at best, thus forcing him to leave his dwelling only at night, to pull his homburg hat low over his forehead, and to flip the collar of his topcoat so few could glimpse his atypical features. Tresset detested the binding restraints of clothing, and loathed the needed subterfuge. Dolnaraq encouraged him, saying that soon these features would recede entirely and Tresset would be free to embrace all society had to offer. But what Dolnaraq had yet failed to realize was that Tresset had come to despise humanity, to loath these people to his primal core.