Tomorrow's Dead: The Julia Poe Vampire Chronicles (19 page)

Poe looked into his eyes, illuminated by the bright moon.  “You’ve never really had
me.  You left me to fend for myself after each assignment.  I remember our big cattle
rescue.  You headed on to the Central Valley and left me half-beaten to death to return
Downtown and mend on my own.  Then after what Trench did to me, you left me in Catalina. 
You didn’t even visit me.  You’ve always chosen your cause, Kaleb.  Over me.  Maclemar
put me first.”

“You’re right, of course.  I despise myself for that.  You’re the only love I’ve ever
known, and I let you down.  I’ll try my best to change my ways.  Once this city understands
they don’t really need me, I promise to be with you for keeps.”

“I’ll be 90 by then.  Quit living in fantasyland.  Not only that, Maclemar’s constantly
on my mind.  You have no idea how much I miss him.”  Sainvire’s countenance appeared
so sad that Poe felt pity for him.  The vampire had shouldered the weight of the world
on his misshapen shoulder.  Ancients, humans, vampires, and halfdead looked to him
for protection.  His leadership rebuilt Downtown Los Angeles.  Without Sainvire’s
tenaciousness to free cattle and provide a sense of security, Downtown would never
have thrived.

Poe had a personal issue with kissing another man when her partner was recently entombed
below the Cathedral of Angels.  But then again, she grew up without rules, and her
heart told her that she loved two men and she couldn’t help herself.  She raised her
head and kissed Sainvire’s mouth, allowing their tongues to reacquaint after all these
years.  The cold roof dug at her back, but she didn’t care.  She wanted her vampire,
and it had been a long four years. 

When their lips parted, Sainvire was silent.  “I’ll make it up to you, Poe.  I love
you so much, and I’ve done you so many wrongs.”

Poe shook her head and told him they should go.  They flew back to the hotel without
saying a word.  They entered through the same conference room window where the assembled
group had grown.  Michelle was standing with Jenna when everyone hushed as they joined
the assembly. 

Sainvire described what he’d heard and lowered the collective spirit of the room. 
“Christmas, they say.  They want to destroy what we’ve built.”

Jenna looked fierce when she said, “Not gonna happen.  Christmas is set.  We’ve got
to figure out how we can foil the Grinch’s plans.” 
No wonder the vampire is a popular leader,
thought Poe. 

“How about we formally approve an attack on San Francisco sometime in December?” said
Michelle.  “Chuck can pass the info along.  They wouldn’t think of flying their helis
our way.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” said Danby. 

“I like it.  Ballsy enough for you, Jenna?” asked Joseph.

“It’s delicious.”

“I think a small group of us should go to San Francisco and get in contact with the
underground.  There’s sure to be a bunch of hippies and insurgents to help us blow
up their helicopters and other transports,” said Poe with determination.

The girl’s idea met the sound of crickets.  Nobody spoke for a full minute until Morales,
who was able to get away from the sick ward said, “Brilliant idea, Poe.  But you realize
it’s a suicide mission?”

Poe looked at her Converse.  “Sure.  But Christmas is important, and some of us have
more lives than others,” she said.  She needed to relieve her guilt.  She needed Christmas
to happen.  Maclemar loved Christmas.  “I can go by myself.  Maybe you can drop me
off as close as you can, Rufus.  I can pretend to be a man with a mustache.  A custodian
maybe.”

Joseph shook his head.  “At home you have a little girl, a pig, and a dog.  And you
can’t leave my teething goddaughter!”

Poe bit her lower lip.  “Listen.  I used to love Christmas.  I want everyone to have
that feeling again.  I know I can do this.  I have 20 lives.  And if you do lose me,
it won’t be such a loss.  There are tons of you with more important jobs than me.”

“That’s bullshit, Poe,” said Joseph rather angrily.  “You’re as important as anyone
in this town.  You symbolize hope, and you have a little niece that I want you see
grow up, dammit!”

She’d never seen easygoing Joseph so pissed off before. 

Morales picked up where Joseph left off and screamed at her.  “I’ve patched you up
one too many times, and I’m tired of it.  You’re not leaving this city, Julia Poe.”

Quiet Maple followed with, “Don’t be stupid, Poe.  They have at least fifteen hundred
residents in San Francisco.”

Perla and Michelle further pointed out the foolishness of her idea and implored her
to zip up about it.  Poe hardly knew Danby, but even he voiced his misgivings.  Only
Rufus said something positive.  “I think she can do it.  She’s a superhero.  I can
fly her to the Mission District.  Nobody ever goes there.  Vamps think it’s too ethnic.”

The group screamed a collective “shut up” at Rufus who quickly retreated to his corner. 
Jenna resumed doodling on the notepad.  “Like Rufus, I think it’s a good idea for
a couple of us to infiltrate them like they’ve infiltrated us.  It doesn’t necessarily
have to be Poe.”

Another level of quiet descended.  Joseph, who had been eyeing a pensive Sainvire
by the window, muttered, “Fuck me.”  He sighed.  “What do you think about all this,
Sainvire?  You okay for Poe to go to San Francisco dressed like a man with a mustache? 
Maybe we give her some Coppertone self-tanning lotion to make her pass for a custodian?”

Sainvire lifted his head from the fascinating table stain he was staring at and shrugged. 
“It’s a good idea.  But I don’t think Poe is the right person for the job.”

“And why is that?” asked Rufus. 

“She was shot in the chest not even two years ago.  And I want her back.  I want her
safe.”

Most in the room groaned.  Michelle yelled, “Love is a messy thing!” 

Poe covered her face with her hands to hide her embarrassment.  “Maclemar passed just
six weeks ago, vampire.”

“I can wait,” said Sainvire without an ounce of shame.  “But you will be my priority
from now on, Poe.  This I swear to everyone here.”

Nobody spoke.  Awkward only chipped the surface to describe the situation.  Many believed
Poe was getting what she finally deserved – the attention of the vampire she’d loved
for ages. 

Poe couldn’t take it anymore and punched a hole through the faux wood paneling on
the wall.  She bit down the sharp pain on her left hand.  “Don’t swear about anything,
Sainvire.  I don’t trust you.   I’m going to San Francisco whether you donkey sacks
approve or not.”

Poe stormed off, leaving a room full of stunned participants of all brackets.

“Makes sense,” said Joseph, leaning his hip against the table.  He had a tremendous
smile meant for Sainvire.  “Let the girl have what she wants or she’ll shoot you in
the nuts so other women can’t have you.”

J
OSEPH
HAD
MADE
A
good point about chemical tanning lotion.  Poe and Percy scoured ten Downtown pharmacies
in search of the liniment that would make her darker.  The past couple of days had
been awful.  Her friends had taken her aside to lecture about her impulsive and hard-headed
character.  Joseph and Morales were the worst, actually cursing which they’d never
done before.  “You little shit,” roared Morales.  “You got shot in the chest not so
long ago.  I was crying like a dry dolphin while stitching your chest.  Grow up! 
You’re not a superhero like some people claim.  You’re an impulsive brat that needs
to get locked up in the city jail.”

“Fucking right,” added Joseph.  “You alone in San Francisco?  What the hell can you
accomplish?”

Poe sniffed back a tear and perused the pharmacy shelves with a flashlight.  They
used to serve delicious Thrifty ice cream at Rite-Aid.  Most of the shelves were empty,
and she was losing hope.

“Is this it?” asked Percy as she pulled Penny in a Radio Flyer wagon through the empty
aisles.  The nearly recovered dog had been languishing at home and whined constantly. 
Morales said Penny couldn’t walk long distances yet because her ribs hadn’t healed
completely.  She was an old dog, and her bones took longer to mend.  Chops snorted
around the scavenged pharmacy.

“Maybe.  Hopefully.  I’m tired of this treasure hunt,” said Poe.  The brand was called
Brown Your Bad Self.  “Let’s get out of here.  We’re late for our salon appointment.” 
They had planned to walk to a remodeled beauty salon on 6
th
Street. 

“People have been saying you’re ready for Sainvire to be your boyfriend,” broached
Percy nervously.

“Exaggeration.  Embellishment,” she lied.  “Sainvire was my first love.  He doesn’t
have time for me.  He takes politics and intrigue over me, and I won’t have that again. 
Anyway, if I took Sainvire seriously, what kind of person would that make me when
Maclemar is still warm in the crypt?”

“Everyone knows you loved Sainvire first.  And some people are getting religious on
you.  Some are saying that because you’ve been spending so much time with the vampire. 
Gossip makes them feel better.  What’s a harlot?”

“Percy, I love you, but you can’t ask me questions right now because I’m pretty stressed
out.  I’m going to disappear soon, and I might not be back for a long time.  Can you
look out for Chops and Penny, and visit Maclemar for me?  Tell him he has my heart,
okay?”

“Sure.  But rumor is they’re not gonna allow your flight to happen.  You might be
doing this for nothing.”

“I heard the same garbage, kid.  Don’t worry about it.  I got ideas of my own.”  Her
friends had turned against her and were trying to sabotage her mission. 

Percy blinked away the tears in her eyes.  “Poe, maybe they’re right.  I don’t think
you should go.  I think you want to go on this suicide mission on purpose because
Downtown isn’t enough for you.  Me, Penny, and Chops aren’t enough for you.  You have
too much pride to take Sainvire back.”

Before Poe could say anything, the girl pulled the Radio Flyer out the cracked glass
doors of the drugstore.

***

Passionada asked Poe to remove her clothing as she slipped on plastic gloves to protect
her lovely manicured hands.  She lathered Brown Your Bad Self all over Poe who lay
rigid on a narrow cot draped with sticky plastic lace.  Her salon, aptly named Passionate,
was painted peony pink and mint green.  By all accounts the colors should’ve sickened,
but instead they fused perfectly to create a peaceful cake-like space.  Porcelain
poodles, Barbie doll collection, pictures of fairy princesses, and other frou-frou
decorations bedecked the salon. 

“The brown is supposed to last eight to ten days, Julia dear,” said Passionada as
she wiped the vestiges of tanning cream off Poe.  Once finished the six-foot Amazonian
with perfect hair, make-up, and glossed lips tried men’s wigs on Poe’s head, settling
with dark, picked-out hair that looked mighty fine on Poe.  She could’ve been one
of the Jackson Five.

“I’ve always wanted an Afro,” Poe confessed excitedly.  “It reminds me of my old friend,
Goss, who had the baddest Jim Kelly do in the world.”

The mustache came next.  Passionada placed a Tom Selleck batch of hair on Poe’s upper
lip, but it didn’t quite look right.  They decided on bushy facial growth that cascaded
down the sides of her mouth.  Poe looked like a miniature Superfly.

“I found this exercise waist cincher for your breasts.”  Passionada stretched the
material and wound it around Poe’s chest.  She Velcroed the material closed, and Poe
was instantly boobless.  Poe looked at herself in the mirror with the wig, flat chest,
mustache, tan, and tinted eyeglasses.  She wore a brown turtleneck and black flared
pants held up by a snake skin belt with a cobra belt buckle.  Passionada had chosen
a dark-brown leather jacket that came down to her hip. 

“I look so cool!” said Poe as she stared at herself in a full-length mirror.  At once
she thought about
Black Mama, White Mama
, and other blaxploitation films she had loved growing up in the bunker.

“You look like Arnold Jackson from
Diff’rent Strokes
, mi amor.  And who are you supposed to be anyhow?”  The beauty expert had been Poe’s
friend since leaving West Los Angeles, the first forced break in her retirement. 
The largish woman had clocked her in the head and placed her in Maclemar’s boat. 
Who would have thought that ever since her James died, Poe had been dining at Passionada’s
house every Friday night?

“I’m a Blaxican,” said Poe proudly.  “Black and Mexican.  I had a cousin who was half
and half.”

“Dios mio!  I hope they don’t attack you for looking like a mini-pimp.”

“You can still see my scar,” said Poe, ignoring Passionada’s statement.  “What can
you do about that, Passionada?”  The vampire killer sounded like a churlish child.

Passionada winked at her from the mirror.  “Take off your glasses, pretty one.  I
forgot about this scar blotter I found in Santee Alley.”  The woman squeezed a tiny
amount of brown ooze on her finger and dabbed it on Poe’s five-inch scar.  After a
second application the scar was barely noticeable.

Poe came home satisfied with her new look and was especially thrilled when Percy came
in the house and yelled at the strange little man in her living room.  “Relax, Perce. 
It’s me, Poe!”

“My God!  You nearly gave me a heart attack,” said the very adult ten-year-old girl.

“I would have never thought it.  You’re racist!”

“I’m not racist,” cried Percy.  “You’re just the ugliest man I’ve ever seen lounging
around in our living room!”  Percy studied the skinny man disguise and groaned.  “You’re
really going through with this aren’t you?”

“Yup.”  She knew the conspiracy against her plan involved Percy.  “Tomorrow night
Rufus is going to fly me to the Mission District in San Francisco, and then I’ll make
my way to the center city by the bicycle I’m bringing with me.”