He took a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and dabbed his forehead.
Stanley looked at his audience and continued.
“For a millennium or more, in Eastern Europe, there were people of nobility and royalty who had a disorder. Nay! I daresay they had a blood disorder! And what is this blood disorder called? It is called Porphyria! (4) Yes, folks, there are people from times past and evident today that display characteristics like a vampire!”
“What sort of characteristics?” a stout man in the middle aisle stood up and asked mockingly.
“You, sir, are a clever person for asking such an insightful question!” Stanley let the sentence die for maximum effect.
“Let us list the traits, shall we?” Stanley bellowed to the audience as he lifted his left hand and put up his index finger. “Firstly, they exhibit hypersensitivity to light! Just like a vampire does!”
The gallery of people quieted down a little.
Stanley put up another finger. “Secondly, people with Porphyria tend to have repeated attacks from the disorder. That disease folks, cause the gums of the mouth to recede, which explains their fangs!”
A strange hush fell among the crowd of people. No one moved.
Another one of Stanley’s fingers rose steadily. “Thirdly, the urine from people with that particular disease causes their liquid discharge to turn red!”
Gasps echoed through the audience.
Stanley nodded sagely. “Yes, blood-red, folks!”
Stanley let that sink in before continuing. He put up the fourth finger. “Everyone knows vampires don’t like garlic. For these people that have the affliction, they have an aversion to garlic! Maybe it’s the smell; perhaps it’s from a component of garlic like sulfur or something. I will have to do more research. I do know they are in unbearable pain when exposed to garlic! I kid you not folks!”
The crowd shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Each neighbor looked at the other in controlled fear.
“There are more symptoms, but I wanted you to understand the nature of the beast involved!” He looked around his hushed audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, vampires do indeed exist!” Stanley lowered his eyes to the floor.
A gentleman from the front row lifted himself slowly. “My name is Clayton Cole, and I want to know…do you have any proof, sir?”
Stanley gradually raised his head and nodded gravely. “That I do, sir.” He peered to his right and moved his head slightly, then looked back at Clayton. “That I do.”
A moment later, a small metal cage on wheels pushed by Marty Ward went onstage. Not a peep was heard except the squeaking noise of the wheels turning slowly and reverberated across the quieted stage. Squeak… squeak… squeak. Intakes of breath and moans vibrated through the assembly. Several women fainted by the sight of the human inside.
Stanley gazed at the audience's expected reaction at his prized possession.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the modern-day vampire!”
The bald man was dressed in a one-piece black gown that went up to his chin. His skin was exceedingly pale, almost a pasty white. His black fingernails protruded out several inches. His eyes were pitch black as he ran from side to side. He lunged at the cage, trying to free himself. When he banged into the metal bar, he hurt himself and opened his mouth in pain. To the audience, he revealed his teeth that resembled fangs.
“Did you see his fangs? I told you!” Stanley yelled to his horrified audience.
The assembly hall patrons recoiled in terror, and that was fine with Stanley. Word will spread about what they’ve seen today. Stanley was beside himself with the thought of ticket sales increasing for his next show.
He put out his hands to calm the mass of people from exiting the assembly hall. He hit the metal bars with his hands several times. “See? The metal bars keep him at bay, but only barely! I know it’s a lot to take in folks. Rest assured, he is a danger to everyone if he were to be set free! Don’t be fooled by his cowardice nature! He seeks only to suck your blood while you’re sleeping!” He turned to the man in the cage. “The man is a monster! But don’t worry, he is under lock and key twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week for your protection!”
Stanley waited until the crowd simmered down.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, my assistant, Mister Ward, will see everyone out. But beware! May none of you feast your eyes upon such a beast in the bowels of our good city!”
Applause thundered from the excited crowd.
Several men begged Stanley to see the caged vampire. Stanley allowed it for a price.
After the men were allowed to touch the creature, for an additional hefty fee, Stanley felt an incredible feeling of euphoria. Finally, vindication!
“Okay, Marty, roll him backstage. And for god’s sake, clean up his poop and piss!”
“Yes, sir,” Marty said without complaint.
Stanley was feeling the bulge of money in his pants pocket when a man and woman walked to him.
“Sorry, folks, the show is over.”
“I came over from England to see your show, Mister Pearson. I introduced myself earlier. I am Clayton Cole. I just want to talk.”
“And your wife? Does she want to talk too?”
Clayton looked at Maryl. “She is not my wife.”
“And he certainly isn’t my husband.”
“Do I sense animosity?” Stanley asked in amusement.
“You might say that,” Maryl said as she pushed Clayton out of the way. “I wish to see the creature.”
“Lady, I told you the show is over! Come back next week.”
Maryl turned around.“Did he just tell me no, Clayton?”
“That he did, Maryl,” he said with amusement.
Maryl pushed Stanley away with ease. He was hoisted several feet back. He ran and ducked under one of the seats in the back row.
Marty Ward was cleaning out the vampire’s excrement when he heard a commotion and checked to see what the noise was. He witnessed a woman not much shorter than the man push Stanley out of her way like he was a rag doll.
He ran in the back room where the caged beast was and
