“How areyou goingto answerthatone?”Daniel asked me.
“As much as Iappreciate you tryingto make thisone asoftlanding,you’re going to have to let this one play outnaturally.There’sreally no other way, son.”
Daniel became more nervous with each passing second, because those moments wentbyexcruciatingly slowin his freneticworld.
I was readyto answerMaggie’s question as directlyas possible, or so he thought.
“We met a long time ago,” I replied,trying tostringtheconversation alongat anorderly pace insteadof hitting Maggieoverthe headwith thetruth.
Daniel was playing along with me.“Yeah, meandMr. Hartwellgo way back.”
Maggie wassatisfied with the explanation – for now – but it still didn’texplain why her beauhad tobring Danieloverher house.
“SoDanielhow iscollege?”
The conversation kept getting murkier, asDaniel hadamassed multiple doctorates by the second half of his freshmanyear and had alsocompleteda fullresidency.
“It’sdefinitely anadjustment,” Daniel said trying to dumb himself down to the college level. He thenturned tome.
“RememberI told youthatMaggie– I mean– Miss Hollingsworth, helped mewith thatyear-end paper Iwas writing last year?”
Maggie wasn’tused toherstudents referring toher by her firstname.She was alittle curious abouthowmuch Daniel and Ihad talked about her.
“Yes,Danielwas my favorite student to work withlast year.He and Iseemed tomeshfromthe moment he walked up to the librarycounter. Made my transition into the school so mucheasier.”
I was alreadygrowingimpatient. I wasnevera big proponent ofidle chit-chat,eitheras a mortal or especially as avampire. There was never a set-up whenI fed off humans.Strengtheningmy base with theirfluids had nothing to do with giving people closure at the end of their lives. To me, I wassimplythebeneficiary ofbloodsourcingbeing at thewrongplace atthe righttime.
“Why do you think that is?”I asked,interrupting the harmless flow of conversation.
Daniel could sense that the conversation shift was coming by my elevated heartbeat. Heknewthat thesecret couldbe containedfor only so long.
“I don’t know?” Maggie replied. “I guess Ijust havea betterconnection withsomestudents.”
I wasn'tabout tolet the flowof theconversation runof his tracks. Myhead dropped and tears started flowing from my eyes.
Maggie waslooking at Daniel anddid notimmediately notice myabrupt change in demeanor. Danielsmiledat Maggieandattemptedto holdherattention to give me a chance to pull himselftogether, butthere wasno turning back now.
She was smilinguntilmy sorrow became visible.
“Thomas,what’swrong?” Maggie said as she quickly moved towardme.
Daniel spoke for me.
“Do you believe in destiny, Maggie?”
Maggie turned to Daniel, “Maggie? Why do you keep calling me Maggie?”
“Because weknow each other.”
Maggie wasconfusedonly becauseshe knew something was happening that was probably beyond mortal comprehension.
“Of course we knoweach other!” Maggieexclaimed.“Thomas, what’s going on?”she said tome, after Ihad finallyturned offthe sprinklers.
“We have a history.”
“Of only a year,”she stated.
I pickedup his head and looked Maggie in the eyes. “Of morethan 100years.”
Maggie stood up and initially felt likerunning outof the house, but her legs were powerless.
Aninnocentbystander might havesurmised that Maggie’s inability to move had something to do with Daniel’s influence. She was so frustrated, buthertemporaryparalysis had nothing to do with the original son.
“Thatisn’tlogical!What are you talking about 100 years,Thomas? And whatdoes Danielhave to dowith this? No offenseDaniel, but whyare youhere with Thomas?”
“Wouldyou rather haveus answereach questionsequentially, or wouldyourather seea sensory presentation?” Daniel asked.
“Sensorypresentation? What ishe talkingabout,Thomas?”
I stoodup and walkeda few paces over to Maggie,“Why don’t you sit down, my love.”
I guided her tothe couchand we both satdown facing the middle of the room.
“You’re on,” I said toDaniel.
Life-size 3-D images of our family back in early 20th century SanFrancisco appeared as we all watched.
“How is he doing this? Isthatme?” Maggieasked as Imotioned for Daniel toput theimage inher head so shecouldn’ttalk over it.
The men watched the 3-D image while Maggie had the story of their lives playedinternally. She was walking inSan Francisco – much theway she did when she went on her modern-day interview.The action played out again as Maggie saw herself holding a little boy’shand and walking next to a tall, sleek man.In herpreviousflashback, shehad a full view of theyoung boybutcouldn’t quite make out the man’sface.
“Look atNathanial,honey.He’s so happy!” shegushed.
“Soam I,”a familiar male voicerepliedas Maggie movedin for a kiss. As she got closer, my face finally came out of the shadows.
Maggie’s body in the present and sitting on the couch twitched atthe sight of Hartwell. Her formerself said, “I love you, Thomas.”
Daniel had cued up another five minutes ofhighlights, buthe could seethatMaggie was struggling to get out.
I commented, “Iused to havea lot more flair backthen.”
“That wasa nice three-piecesuit,” Daniel replied.
“Tweed,” I stated.
Maggie rubbedhereyes and immediatelywent onthe offensive. “Are you two saying that I was married to Thomas in a prior life?”
We both noddedin agreement.
“Daniel was that boy – what was his name – Nathanial? What that you?”
“Yes,” Daniel replied.
“How is that humanly possible?”she asked.
“How is that humanly possible?”I inquired. “That weweretogetherbackthen?”
Maggie furiously shook her head, “No! No, I’m willingto accept that we were all together inwhatappearedto be thelate 1800’s or early1900’s…”
“She’sgood,” Daniel saidto me.
“What I’mreally having ahard time with ishow weare all sittinghere now?Again,how is thathumanlypossible?”
I simply stated, “It’s not.”
“What do you mean, Thomas?"
“I meanthat it’s not humanlypossible,my dear.”
Not onlywas Maggie agitated,she was also extremely uncomfortablewith the thought of thelife sheknew being inquestion.
Shestood upagain as her legs regained their ability to functionagain.
“Are you saying that you twoare not mortalbeings?”
I replied, “I am, but he’snot.”
“Butthere wasa time –actuallymost of the time –when I was and you weren’t,” Danielsaid to me.
“That istrue,” I replied.
“Thomas, youaremortal?”
“Yes.”
“That’sa relief,” Maggie saidas she smiled and let out a huge sigh. “What areyouDaniel? That is,if you’re sayingyou’re not human.”
Daniel looked at me and I nodded that it wasall right todisclose the truth.
“I am avampire,” Danielstated, ashe edged up to the end ofthe couch cushion.
“A vampire?”Maggie exclaimed.“Thomas, how can this be? How can this boy bea vampire?”
I looked atDaniel thistime, and nodded that I had to tell her the truth.
“I turned him.”
“Youturned this boy into a vampire?”Maggie shrieked as her maternalinstinct kickedin. “Why wouldyou dothat?”
“Becausehe’s my son. Because he’s your son.” Maggie was starting to unravel.
“Are you going to ‘turn’me now?”
I replied, “I can’t turn anyone anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“BecauseI was killed for the 100thtime andthenbecamemortal.”
“How long were you a vampire?” shecontinuedher straight line of questioning.
“For morethan 100 years.”
Maggie paced back and forth as theinformation slowlypermeatedher brain.
“I can show you more if that will help?”Daniel offered to help.
Butthat only puthim in harm’s way, “There’smore?I think I’veseen andheard quite enough for one day,wouldn’tyou say, Thomas?”
The question was rhetorical,so it was apparent that Maggie
