Friday, April 3, 2015

AN OLD MAN QUITE NEAR DEATH... 4/3/15

Sarah and Annie walked down the street. The city was quiet, all souls resting in advance of the coming Holy Days. Houses are cleaned. Kitchens are readied. God's coming to call and in all parts of the Jewish-Christian spectrum, The Message is basically the same. God says - Grab your things. I've come to take you home.

Now, Sarah doesn't break out in Ecclesiastical Measles, like her vampire partner, Jonathon, but she still believes. That's why she dressed Annie in a brand new, special outfit from Lord & Taylor... a crisp, pale, yellow dress, topped by a navy blue 'spring coat' and all the trimmings. Her clothes, though cut differently, echoed the same color scheme. Mother-daughter outfits, they used to call them.

Annie liked the sound of her new patent leather shoes against the sidewalk. After a bit, Sarah whispered - Quiet.... So, being somewhat magical in her own way, if no longer a vampire, she walked along silently. 

Occasionally they'd pass someone, or people would pass them.... maybe a taxi, or twenty-somethings leaving a bar ( religious observances mean little to them). And if the sight of a mother and daughter out and about, all alone, after midnight seemed strange, the mesmerizing gaze from Sarah's vampire eyes soon assured them all was well.

Are we there yet? - asked Annie... Soon - said Sarah. See that stately, old, apartment building across the street by the corner?... Annie said that she did.... Well -continued her 'mother,' - He's in there, four stories up. See where the light's on? In there. 

Gaining entrance was no problem at all.  They entered the small, vestibule and the doorman buzzed them in. Did he know them? Not at all, though, as you know, vampirinos and vampirinas have their ways. So they left the black and white, marble tiled space, passed through the small, commodious, thickly carpeted lobby and into an elevator....,. the mirrored kind with old, polished brass fittings and trim. Sarah pressed number four and they were off. Annie giggled. Sarah didn't, so she stopped. 

They proceeded down a hall carpeted to match the lobby. The walls were painted a rich, dignified cream, trimmed out with white base boards and crown moldings. Brass sconces with pleated, silk shades furnished just enough light for propriety's sake. And six paneled, glossy black doors with fittings to match the sconces, led to the flats. We provide such detail, for Annie remembered everything on her first 'official' healing. 

When they reached number 403, Sarah sublimated her hand through the door and fiddled with the lock. Twelve heartbeats later they went in.  There was a small foyer, more or less matching the vestibule downstairs. Beyond that, in the living room, an elderly man dozed, sheltered in the wings of a great, antique, needlepoint chair. There wasn't much light in the room, save what came from a small, gas powered fireplace, but they could see how sick he was. Maybe he realized they were standing there. Maybe he didn't. Annie thought she heard him whisper something, but she wasn't sure.  Sarah gave her the vial. She said - You do it.... Annie's hands shook. She was still fundamentally a child, after all. Then she carefully removed the stopper, approached the invalid and slowly poured three or four drops of the warm, ruby elixir onto his drooping lower lip. He sipped it in like soup. Sarah took the vial, put back the stopper and they left, clicking the lock back in place as they did.

Out on the street, Annie quietly asked - Is that it?.... Sarah said - Yes..... Annie said - How do you know he'll be alright?..... Sarah straightened Annie's coat collar and said that she just did.

On the way back home they stopped for pancakes. And Sarah told the little girl all about the man in 403....

<more next time>

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