Blood Is Thicker Book Ii

By Silas H. Patterson

Adam Davis, Vietnam War draftee, former soldier and now vampire, is back home on the South Side, and he quickly finds that his home, Chicago has changed greatly from what it was when he was drafted and that there are new dangers to his wife and infant son. There are new enemies that challenge his resolve and new found abilities, from racist police, uncaring businessmen, and murderous drug dealing gang members, to an evil, power mad vampire named Richard Coeur de Leon who is determined to have him in his Society. All of these enemies are not only are new sources of blood but help him to fight harder to protect his wife Marian, her new born son Adam and kill all of those who make life harder for the truly good in society. And as his now adult son experiences his fathers 25 year story, he quickly finds out that sadly, despite his fathers best efforts and supernatural power he cannot save everyone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481727433

Silas H. Patterson

Silas H. Patterson grew up during the 1960's and 70's in Kenwood and Hyde Park, the neighborhood of the University of Chicago. He graduated from Kenwood High School and attended the University of Illinois Chicago Circle Campus (UIC). He was heavily influenced by the various movements that were occurring around him, from the Civil Rights and Anti-Vietnam war movements of the 1960's to the Black Nationalist movements of the early 1970's. All of which led to his joining the SGI and converting to Nichiren Buddhism in 1976. During his entire life he has spent working at all kinds of jobs in all kinds of places, from the University of Chicago law school print shop, m state to state as a traveling advertising agent, serving in the Illinois National Guard. Then from bicycle messenger to taxi driver, security guard, and telemarketer. Today he resides in the South Suburbs of Chicago with his wife and family

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© 2013 Silas H. Patterson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/17/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1704-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2743-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904483

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE, AND ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN MEERLY PLAYERS: THEY HAVE THEIR EXITS AND THEIR ENTRANCES; AND ONE MAN IN HIS TIIME PLAYS MANY PARTS, HIS ACTS BEING SEVEN AGES.

WILLIAM SHAKESPERE

CHAPTER I

Adam Davis Jr. awakens to the rustling of papers in a dreamlike state then the squeak of the lid on the mailbox as it opened and closed with a sharp metallic slap of two pieces of thin steel together. He opens one eye then the other realizing that it must be about 1:30 or 2:00 because the mailman gets around to him at that time. He looks around and sees he is dressed in the same clothes he had on last night, and starts to think What happened is all of this unreal? He closes his eyes and tries to remember everything and slowly everything comes back to him. Adam Davis, George Stein and Michiko Isawa, the extremely violent death of Sergeant Powell and Corporal O’Leary seem so real. These faces, smells, and sights all rush back uninhibited as though he had done them and experienced them himself.

It was real, every last word was real, he then remembers the piece of paper in his pocket his father told him about. He reaches inside and takes it in both hands to unfold it, and then he reads the writing:

Dear Son,

When you read this you’ll probably know I sent you back home. If you want to hear the rest of the story come to my house. No, that was our mansion where we all stay if we want. I have my own apartment come to this address: 16 West Erie street apt. 4 Chicago IL.

He closes the paper and lays it on the crease of his pants and images flood over his mind as he closes his eyes. He starts to stand for the first time and finds his legs are kind of weak. So he falls back down again.

How did he get here? He looks around with the startling revelation that he is back at his town house. "Maybe he drove me back, maybe Mr. Johnstone drove him back. He mustered enough strength in his legs to make another attempt at standing. He succeeds after the third time and staggers to the window. He parts the curtains and sees the familiar blue 1991 Chevrolet Cavalier parked in the usual spot. Now he remembers Johnstone drove him out to the mansion in Barrington. So he must have walked in after Mr. Johnston drove him back.

He moved slowly over to the stairs and tortuously climbs them using the single wooden handrail for what seems like a lifetime until he reaches the top. He starts to enter the room but notices the message light for the phone answering machine. He turns it back quickly to the beginning of the tape and starts it.

Hello Adam this is Irving Johnstone I know what you felt is unbelievable, but is true. I know about most of it I was there, don’t worry I’ve been there before. When he does that it disorients me too so I’m giving you a week off. Don’t worry about your case with Phil; he’s working on some other stuff. If you have any other questions at all call me at the office and we’ll meet. The message ends with a loud beep.

Shit, he knew; Johnstone knew all the time. Looking around the silent living room, his eyes stop at the kitchen, he quickly remembers his mother being there baking biscuits for Sunday dinner. He remembered how long it took but what a pleasure it was to smell the warm biscuits baking in the oven. Then he slowly remembers the words his mother said all the time.

Son, you look a lot like your father

I do? What did he look like?

She went up to the bedroom and got the weathered and somewhat faded prom picture and showed it to him.

See son, doesn’t he look like you?

Uh huh.

Adam then remembers how he looked at that time and what he said next while looking into her deep brown eyes.

Mom, how did he die?

In that ol’ no-good Vietnam war, he got shot and died in a hospital in Japan.

Did you love daddy?

Yes, and I guess I still do, I guess the best part died in that war.

The best part of what, mom?

The best part of me and my life son, he was my first and only love son. He helped me, inspired me and that is why I miss him so much. He remembers her saying with great sadness as her brown wyes flooded with tears.

Suddenly before he could realize what he was doing, there was a loud ring from the phone on the wall next to his still unmade bed. He walks close to it and picks up the receiver, looking quickly again at the bed he holds the phone to his ear he says slowly:

Hello?

Hello Mr. Davis, How are you feeling this morning? says a voice in a heavy British accent, and then the realization comes to him that it is Mr. Ames.

Who is this?

This is Mr. Ames, we met last night remember at the mansion? he says with a slight tinge of anger.

Oh yeah, Mr. Ames I’m sorry I did not recognize your voice. How are you doing? Adam hears him laugh slightly as if he has heard some unknown joke.

Quite well, your father wanted me to call you and make sure you were all right.

When did he ask you to call me?

He asked me to do that before he retired for the day. Adam pauses and allows the words to fully sink in.

How did he know that I’d even want to see him?

Mr. Davis let me tell you something; you may deny it all you want but he is still your father. He loves you a lot no matter what he is or what he has done. And besides, I think that your natural curiosity will take over from here on in. Adam allows his strangely prophetic words to sink in and after a few moments decides that he is correct and says:

All right Mr. Ames thank you for your kind words.

Jolly good. We’ll meet again I’m sure. Good day Mr. Davis.

He hangs up the phone carefully then turns around to flop down on his bed as sleep washes over his mind.

It is 9:00 and already the first revelers of the night have started streaming into the myriad of local bars and restaurants in the new North Loop area. The North Loop is, just as the name implies is north of the Loop on Chicago’s near north side from the Chicago river to Chicago avenue what was once shabby apartments of the old skid row now has become expensive two story brownstone apartment buildings and condominiums with prices that people once paid for houses now they gladly pay thousands per month for a simple studio apartment. On this one block, parking has become so scarce that the residents have their own parking spaces behind or next to their apartment buildings. The prices for these parking spaces are sometimes equal to the price of the condo itself. Adam was well of this fact when he started out and although was not prepared to use a parking lot and pay the 20 or 30 dollars for the night he instead takes the CTA and gets off at Chicago Avenue and then walks four blocks south and less than half a block west to the small three story brownstone on Erie street. There is a large Catholic church and school complex on State just across the street from a parking lot, which rapidly filled up with shiny cars of all makes and models. As the sun sets, it’s last pale orange rays reflected from the top surface of the stained glass windows strike him on the side of the face as he walked up to the entrance. The building is a three story brownstone home with ornate grey concrete trimmings which are carved to resemble the work done by the old stone carvers of the late 19th century. There is an 8 ft. tall wrought iron gate with the old style flame topped spikes from every bar and on each corner there is a small black painted eagle with its wings spread out as if getting ready to fly. There are three wide white marble steps which lead to the well polished oak imitation door, and beyond that he can see three marble steps in the vestibule. Adam Davis Jr. finds himself in awe of the surroundings, the wealth of the people who live here in comparison to the people who live on the South and West sides. As the sun disappears for another night behind the western horizon, and the street lights turn on with a faint high pitched hum, it is as if it is an entirely different world, as the night in Chicago transforms its normally staid and mildly conservative population into an entire group of happy party goers who gladly exchange their daytime identities for night time super heroes. Adam looks around and as a small pickup truck slowly moves down the street with its driver looking in vain for a free parking space, he wonders about how much money this man, who claims to be his father, actually has in order to live in this section of town. Ever since the mid 70s this area has grown in wealth as young professionals moved from their suburbs to escape the traffic and congestion to enjoy the privileges that the poor and the minorities now enjoy, that they too can either walk or take the bus to their Loop jobs. Pushing land values to ever newer heights, they have forgotten what living in Chicago actually is in order to carve an island of wealth inside the city that used to be a melting pot of cultures and life styles.

Before he can push the top button on the box, he hears a dry buzz which indicates that someone is letting him in. He pushes the gate open, and the sound of a faint cry of partially rusted iron vibrates through the gate. He steps through still holding it and as he enters he lets it go allowing it to close rapidly, closing as if it is the kind of gate in an old horror movie. Then Adam turns around and as the thought that this is the work of his father he looks up to notice that there is a sophisticated hydraulic door closer mounted on the top bar of the gate. Feeling slightly foolish he walks up the outside stairs and opens the door to the small nearly closet like vestibule, he opens the inside door and starts to walk up a set of stairs. When he reaches the top of the stairs on the 3rd floor he pauses at the small carpeted landing with a single light from a fixture. Before he can knock on the door he hears a set of keys turn and then as the door opens he hears:

Come on in son. In the same youthful voice that he heard last night.

Adam enters slowly walking past the man he now slowly recognizes as being his father silently into the moderately well lit doorway. It has a small entry way with a white tile floor; to the right there is a short hallway which has a mirror on one of the doors. To his left there is a small living room with blinds on the four windows that face the street. As he enters he closes the door behind him and takes two steps forward. There are four large lamps which sit in each corner of the room but only two are lit and give the area a kind of eerily dim bluish white illumination from their fluorescent bulbs then he notices the black leather couch with a glass table topped with books. As he walks closer he notices that there is a chrome and black leather sling back chair sitting next to the couch. In one of the other corners next to the window and the lamp, is a life-like statue of a German shepherd dog sitting upright with its ears upright at full attention He sees the thin streaks of greenish bronze showing through the brown and black paint. The white painted walls have paintings on them except the one with the windows. There is one wall which not only has a painting but has a black lacquered entertainment center; there is glass which is in front of what appears to be very expensive audio equipment.

How do you like it? His father says to him as he continues to dry his thick black hair with a large pale green terrycloth bath towel, there are still beads of water in his hair even though he is rubbing it very hard. He then takes the towel and drapes it over his thin yet very muscular dark brown shoulders. He is not wearing a shirt and is wearing only a pair of black pajama pants and light green rubber shower shoes.

What, the apartment? It’s nice, is this where you live?

Uh huh, when I’m in Chicago this is where I stay. His father replies with a kind of evasive tone.

Then what about Barrington, don’t you make that drive out there every night?

That’s our mansion, we meet there from time to time and we have guest rooms, also we have meetings and parties out there.

So how did you all get that big old mansion?

I’ll tell you how; once long time ago that was part of a prestigious military school. Well to make a long story short the headmaster reportedly killed bad students or something like that. Well anyway, he was arrested, convicted, and the school closed down. After several different owners, we bought it from someone for next to nothing.

Tax sale, or foreclosure?

Very good son, very perceptive of you, Irving has a knack for those things. Now let’s sit down and talk. Adam sits down on the couch next to the end and his father sits on the leather and chrome chair then he throws the towel over the chrome area then relaxes his back. The two men look at each other and somewhere the within their minds the beginning of a bond begins to stir within their hearts. Adam opens up to the man he now recognizes as his father, and Adam Davis a vampire who has not aged a day in over 26 years realizes that despite his power this is the one thing he has missed, a chance to sit down with his only son.

Can I ask you some more questions?

Sure you’ve got some time.

Where is George Stein now?

Oh, he’s in Asia somewhere I think, maybe even in Japan, or China.

And Michiko; what happened her?

She’s with George and will be so for the rest of her life, they’re together, you know, married.

What about Michiko’s mom? Adam looks down and off to one corner and says with a hint of sadness in his voice:

She died shortly after the three of them moved into the Echigyo towers apartment building.

I’m sorry to hear that. So tell me, what happened to Julie and the business you stole from Yamaguchi?

First of all I didn’t steal shit from Yamaguchi; that was payment for what he said to us at Hiro’s resturant. Now the last I heard she had married to some guy who worked in the warehouse. It seemed as though the words were hard for him to say, as though he were saddened that the only other woman he ever liked was now taken away from him. The silence becomes thicker as the two men find themselves at an awkward time with nothing to say. Finally Adam Jr. breaks the silence and says with a growing smile.

You know Mr. Ames thinks a lot about you.

Yeah he is a good man, part gardener, part chef, part butler, all friend, and former S.A.S. in the Falkland Islands. He takes care of things at the mansion while we are resting or not there. I’d hate to be the one he catches climbing over the wall, or trying to break in. Adam Jr. thinks about his mother then looks toward his father. Adam shifts his dark brown eyes toward him and smiles as the sadness seems to leave his face.

I’ll tell you about your mother, son but I’ll have to give you the whole story.

Oh no: not the virtual reality thing again?

Yes. Adam Jr. inhales in a kind of disbelief and after as few secounds reconciles himself that this is the way his father now chooses to tell stories, he does not just tell them he actually shows them like a big interactive movie.

Well, just one more thing. Adam Jr. says smiling as he continues: How did George do that thing with the poison dart and the cat? Adam Davis laughs then while still laughing says:

You liked that shit didn’t you?

Uh huh yeah that was so cool. Adam Jr. says smiling and then he asks, Can you give life like that?

Nope, but I will tell you how it was done though. Remember when he ran his finger along the dart, that neutralized the poison then he guided it to the cat using telekinesis. After that he caused the cat to pass out like it was dead, but trust me the cat wasn’t hurt at all.

So the cat never died?

Right the second time.

Then he stroked the cat healed the puncture wound, removed its pain and then George convinced the cat that he was his friend. Adam’s son says while moving his hands quickly as if he is trying to put blocks in order.

Hey, you’re on a roll kid. Adam’s father says smiling widely as he points to him.

So tell me what happened between you and Mom? Adam Davis’ eyes become wider at hearing the question, and then he stands up and brings the chair closer to him so that he is blocking any avenue of walking away or escaping. He leans forward and stretches his hands out. He then looks into his eyes and stares deeply in almost an exact duplicate of the night before.

Do you trust me? Adam Davis whispers, but to his son it is much louder, as though it is like thunderstorm.

Yes I do. He replies in a voice that seems less than a whisper.

Can I trust you? he hears again this time it seems so loud that if he had the strength to raise his hands to cover his ears he would but instead all he can do is reply:

Yes you can trust me. But before the father can touch the sides of his face he jerks away by moving backwards.

Hey look, no movie theatres, none of this virtual reality shit, none of it. Adam Jr. yells: I just want to know the whole truth. He starts to stand up from the couch

All right, go. Adam Davis says while pushing against the back of the chair and waving his hand as he moves the chair back as if to allow him to stand up. Go ahead on he says as the front door opens by itself revealing the small landing. But just remember, if you walk out of that door now I’ll wipe the memory of what you learned before sunrise and you’ll be back to where you were two nights ago.

But; why?

Because, in my life I’ve found out that those who know only half of the truth about me wind up not knowing shit. And besides I can’t have you running around with all of those secrets in your head unsupervised.

Oh, was mom like that?

Uh huh but she could not believe I was telling her the truth.

You’re lying. Adam Jr. says as he walks to the door.

Want to see? Adam Davis says looking at him. Or do you want to go out of the door? It’s your choice son, just let me know by the time I can get a shirt on. His father stands up and walks past him into another section of the apartment. Adam Jr. says nothing thinking only of the things that he had learned so far, and that most of the answers, no matter how painful to recognize are now in his mind. He looks around, and without saying a word, closes the door, and turned the lock using the key inside the brass plated deadbolt lock. Adam Davis Jr. contemplates his next words he slowly comes to the decision to listen to the rest of the story even though he is only at this moment beginning to understand. As he starts to walk back to the living room, his father emerges from the room in back with a black tee shirt with the words printed in white letters on the back and front that say: I HAVE A BAD ATTITUDE. Even through the t-shirt he can see his muscular form then he looked at his own stomach which enables him to barely see the tips of his toes. He looks in the mirror at himself and then he looks at his father in the mirror then strangely he notices for the first time that he has a reflection. Adam Jr. then says as he walks closer to his father:

Hey, I just noticed you have…

. . . A nice, lean, hard body? Yeah that comes from carrying an M-60 plus ammunition, spare barrels, a rucksack, and an M16, up hills and through rice paddies in 110 degree heat all day. Hey I kind ’a looked like this before I became a vampire, oh and by the way you could stand to lose some pounds yourself son. Adam Jr. ignored the insult and continued his sentence:

I notice that you have a reflection, I thought vampires don’t have reflections.

Look, that shit you see in the movies is not even half of the truth especially that shit about vampires fearing the cross; I got a funny story about that I’ll show you later on.

Well, immortality looks good on you I mean I feel kind of bad because you look younger than me.

Want to try it out son it doesn’t cost a thing, but there’s no return policy. He says as if he is advertising the vampire effect.

No thanks, I’ll pass for a while.

Adam Davis shrugs one shoulder as if he is only mildly disappointed and replies:

Ok, suit yourself, I’m in no hurry, after all I’m the one who’s immortal. Then he laughs as if he finally gets the gist of his own joke. Then he walks into the front room and sits down in the same chair he had sat in and Adam Jr. sits on the couch at the same place he was before. Adam Jr. looks at his father’s arms and hands, then as he reaches up to place his hands on the sides of his head he wonders why is it all necessary not only for him to place his hands on his head, but why was the whole process necessary.

Are you ready?

Yes.

Now I’ll ask you again; can I trust you?

Yes. Adam Jr. says closing his eyes as his father places his cold fingertips on each side of his head with two of them in front of his ears at the closest point to his temples. Adam Jr. feels waves of energy emanating from his fingertips as he finds himself looking into his father’s eyes and as he does he finds himself falling into the deep well of his deep brown eyes.

Again he sees the theatre seats around him, the lush red velour arm rest under his hands, then the soft cushion at his back. He looks forward and there is the same screen, it is white but it looks as if the projector has not started yet. Adam finds himself looking around at the perfection of it all, the seats are set perfectly, the isles are straight, even the brass on the balcony and stairwell railings are polished to perfection. The house lights on the ceiling though they are incandescent they are the same kind used in some older theatres. Suddenly the iridescence on the screen starts and his father walks through it, just as he has always done.

Hello son. He says in almost the same tone as he did before happy and mildly joking.

I told you I don’t want this shit, just tell what happened. Suddenly his brow wrinkles, and his father responds with an angry voice.

I told you before I’ll do it my way or no way.

I want out. I’m getting out of here. Adam stands, finding that the floor is hard and is just like a regular theatre, so he takes a couple of steps and turns up the aisle.

You’d better sit down son, you won’t like it.

Just tell me.

Yeah I’m tellin’ you to sit down and watch. This only fuels his son’s newly formed anger and determination to leave the theatre, as he quickens his pace to walk toward the exit sign next to the isle door. It too is perfectly done a lighted box with the yellowish white frosted glass and red block letters. He reaches for the steel door handle and flings it open. But before he can even step through he looks through the open door only to see a vast black void. There is no lobby, and no outside not like a normal theatre, it is like a night sky, only with no stars, no moon, no street lights. Adam Jr. pauses then takes in the impossible sight, paralyzed, rooted to one spot with his hand still on the door, he steps back twice, and then allows the door to close as he takes another step backward.

I told you Adam, I told you, you wouldn’t like it. Adam Davis says as he sits on the arm of the seat closest to him. Then as he stands, walks closer to him and says in a low voice:

Once you are in the theatre, you can’t get out unless I let you out. Now, go back to your seat.

Where, where is it? He says blankly, as if in a hypnotic trance.

There. He says pointing to the seats closer to the screen and then he drops his hand as Adam Jr. silently walks past him.

Every seat is a good one, but the closer ones are much better.

Adam Jr. walks to the 10th row and finds himself moving to the first seat from the isle. As he sits down he thinks about how eerie it is that he is alone in a movie theatre. Then as he looks back he notices that his father is no longer behind him, but before he can look around, the iridescent lighted screen catches his eyes and he looks and one more time his father comes back through the screen and stops in front.

Are you ready?

Yes. Adam Jr. says as if he has resigned himself to the fact that this is the way it is supposed to be.

Good, now we return you to our regularly scheduled program. Adam Davis says smiling, and before his son can even react the screen grows brighter enveloping the image of his father and quickly he loses all awareness of the theatre, only the all encompassing white light.

November 9, 1972

Adam opens his eyes and slowly consciousness comes to him, in the darkness inside the stainless steel casket, he hears a voice in his mind, as he scans around him for the least small pinhole of light that would guide him.

Adam. You are home wake up.

Huh, who is it?

It is I Master Jiko. You must get up now Adam.

Why where am I?

You are home in Chicago, but you must get out while you still can.

But how, George never showed me this trick?

George cannot show you everything, and neither can I. The things you will learn from now into the future depend upon you.

I see. So this is my problem now?

True. Now like I said you have got to get out while you can. Now good fortune is with you Adam Davis. The voice fades from his mind and as Adam tries to concentrate on where he is and getting out, but the fact that he is in a situation that he has never been in before starts to distract him. Again he tries to relax and visualize where he is. He expands his consciousness as if he is looking down from the outside of the dull stainless steel casket that is locked and sealed to prevent it’s being opened There are three hinges running along the left side of the box and there are three latches, one at the right shoulder one near his hand and one opposite where his shin is. The three latches are secured by wire with a lead seal, and because there is an air and water tight rubber gasket, it exerts a spring like force which helps keeps the latches from opening.

Shit, I’ll never get outta of here. He mutters softly to himself. Then he remembers what he saw in Japan, how on his first night of being a vampire how George stein made a Japanese street gangster commit seppuku, how two nights later, he took the knife from Mrs. Yamaguchi and used his mind to spin it around the room and make it stick point down at the floor close to her husband’s foot. These things are possible he slowly realized but he would have to visualize these things happening, rather than trying to make them happen. He tries to focus his mind on where he is, and he looks around, as far as he can looking first left then right, using his newfound ability to see in total darkness. He is able to feel his toes, his fingers his arms, and everything on his body including the hard surface that he is lying upon. Then he stretches his feelings outside to, find out where the coffin is and he feels something hard yet porous around him, like a sponge yet a little harder. Suddenly he realizes that he must be underground, and that he has been buried already.

Damn, I wish that China man hadda woke me up before they buried me. Now what the fuck do I do? He projects his attention upwards, and with every second he is more convinced that he is underground in a sealed steel casket. Then he remembers that Houdini was an escape artist, probably the best that has ever been, and he was not even a vampire, or was he? Then he remembers that a long time ago he remembers something his father said to him, it was so long ago that he has forgotten almost all that his father had said.

Adam your great grandfather escaped slavery, and lived so you should be very strong also and live, no matter what happens along the way.

Adam drops his attention away from the task at hand and thinks about why after most of his years he never had any memories of his father until now. Then he sees the tie in, escape, survival, and life. He suddenly realizes that if he is ever to make life better for his family he has to get out of here and go to them. Again he concentrates on the casket and then the dirt above him. Then slowly he understands that to get out of the coffin he has to first raise the coffin and in order to do that he has to move the dirt. Then he realizes that there is nearly 84 square feet of dirt above him and that he will have to not only raise the dirt but raise the casket also in order to release the locks in order to open it.

Boy I wish there were still grave robbers these days. I could use some help here. Then he forms a fist and hits the right side of the steel box and gives a yell as if someone could hear him:

Hey Master Jiko, I could use a little help around here. You know, I could get out with a little help, just tell me how this shit is done and I’ll do it all right? Then slowly he remembers what Master Jiko implanted into his mind, I cannot help you with everything, the things that you learn from now in the future will depend on you.

I have to visualize what I want to do. Or else I ain’t gonna get out of here. So he closes his eyes and concentrates, then he whispers to himself:

Let’s see, I’m in a coffin in the ground so how do you bury a coffin. Let’s see, you dig a hole eh let me think seven by two by six put the coffin in and cover it up. Well that’s simple enough so I guess I have to remove the dirt and raise the coffin by myself. Hey I thought I couldn’t fly, but George said that a vampire can do anything if you visualize it. Man this is getting rough, well Adam let’s take this one step at a time, first let’s get rid of the dirt. No wait I know why don’t I just take the dirt and move it under the bottom of the casket to hold it up. Hey, that’s cool; I mean if I can do that even I’ll be surprised. Then Adam thinks about what he is doing, that he is actually arguing with himself inside a casket. And what’s worse, is that deep within his mind that no one, but he will even appreciate it. He thinks about what the steps are and slowly he sees in his mind something like a dream the casket is at the bottom of the grave, so he begins to move a particle of soil from the side to the bottom then two then three then five then all of the soil from the sides has moved to the bottom raising the coffin a quarter of an inch upward. Then he moves soil from the top along the sides like a small dark brown waterfall over the top, then down the sides and top to raise the bottom up first one inch then three inches then six inches then a foot. Now Adam feels the movement upward like lying on the floor of an elevator moving slowly up to the next floor. He does not have the ability to look out and see where he is but he knows it is true that he is moving upward. As he gains more confidence in what he is doing then it becomes easier to move soil until he decides to try lifting the coffin up hoping to make the process that much faster. But the entire process makes him tired, feeling like he is running with barbells, while singing the pledge of allegiance in Japanese. Through the unlined steel he can hear the sound of the rocks and gravel as it rattles from the top down the sides only to raise him ever higher.

Finally it stops and he feels the top of the lid, in his mind he has confirmed his wishes, that it is at least nighttime when he has gotten to the top of the hole and now he can work on trying to unseal the lid and open it.

Hey, am I good or what? He says to himself as he breaks the wire and lead seals then turn the latches. The last act of turning the locks leaves him tired and with the start of a slight headache. Feeling that he needs a rest Adam, in one last final desperate act pushes up on the lid at last exposing himself to cool night air, his great reward for doing so much to getting out of a grave. He lies inside, his arms raised upward like two huge dark spires toward the partly cloudy night sky. His eyes open and he looks up and the only thing on his mind that he can say is:

I’m home, I’m home I made it back alive. Thank you George Stein, thank you! Then he sits up and looks around pivoting his head from left to right, as if he is taking in every small detail. He laughs and yells in happiness as he stands up and jumps out of the coffin and lands on the wet grass surrounding the grave. He takes in every light every sound every smell, and then he opens his mind as if he is trying to pick up on one familiar thought. Then from the back of his neck he slowly recognizes that same tingling feeling when he was in Japan, he now recognizes it as being a warning that there is another vampire close to him. Then he tries to look around desperately to find out who or where the other vampire is. Suddenly he hears behind him a familiar voice.

Peek-a-boo, I see you. Adam looks behind him with the upper part of his body turned around to his left until his eyes finally settles on the bearded form of Master Jiko, this time it is not in priestly robes, but a tan corduroy English racing hat, a long sleeved tie-dyed cotton shirt with all of the colors in the rainbow, and a pair of faded blue jeans. In the cool night breeze his stringy white beard blows near his left shoulder, as one of the collars flutters in the wind but still held stiff by the abundance of starch. In essence he was the perfect confusion of the hippies of just 5 years ago a English golfer, and the newer neater fashions of when he just left.

Hello Master Jiko.

Hey, my man Adam, welcome back to Chi-town.

Thanks for the help; I needed that in order to get out.

Hey bro… He says as he walks around to the side and extends his hand as if he is helping him out of the coffin. I didn’t help you get out, you did that yourself. All I did was plant the seed, you’re the one who has to water it and take care of it. Adam looks back at the open and still empty coffin.

Hey my man how will I know if it really is night if I ever wake up.

Ohhh that’s easy you won’t even be able to wake up. That’s something you’ll learn by yourself, in a few more days.

So can you tell me how to get home, sir?

Uh huh, but first will you do something?

N’ what’s that? Adam says nearly sarcastically to the slightly shorter Chinese man.

Kindly rebury that coffin so that people won’t try to find your body. Then they’ll find out…

I know; I know that I’m not really dead, and that would get a lot of people in trouble.

See I knew you were really smart, George made a good choice. Adam turns away from the aged man and walks over to the coffin and then he looks around inside and seizes up the army blankets, and his army body bag, remembering that there is some money in there also. He rolls them up together and tucks them under his arm, and then suddenly he realizes that they are the most important things in his new life. He then sets them on the ground and assures himself that he also still has the thick roll of $2,000 dollars in his jacket pocket and two smaller rolls in his pants pockets. Then he turns back to face Master Jiko and says:

Well here we go, watch me now. He swings his arms like he was going off the diving board at the YMCA swimming pool.

Adam, let me show you how to do it if you do not have a lot of time. He says as if he is running short on patience, and then Master Jiko extends his mind out and moves the coffin over, levitating it above the ground and moving it over to the left side. He closes the lid quickly and then raises the dirt from the hole like a large earthen brick, until it hovers above their heads. Then master Jiko places the coffin into the hole slowly yet with the utmost control, as if it has been done before, allowing gravity to take the last two feet as it falls with a dull thump and allowing some dry dust to erupt from the sides. Then he smiles and slowly places the dirt into the hole as neatly as if it were cut from a cookie cutter. Even the sod has been replaced as well as before. Adam stares with his mouth open in amazement at the perfection of how it was done.

Well, I’ve got to go now Adam, and so should you. After all you’ve got a young wife and son to see again.

She’s two years older than me Jiko. Adam says beneath his breath.

I heard that, when you are almost 2,000 years old, everyone is young. He says waving his finger around in the air. Now I suggest you get back to her and help her out. Like I said earlier, she needs your help. Somehow as he walks slowly down one of the paved drive ways Adam feels irresistibly drawn to follow him and in time they arrive at the huge iron gates. Adam stops and visualizes the massive gate opening on its own, and it does with a faint cry on its huge, well-greased hinges. Adam often wondered why they had huge gates around cemeteries, was it to keep the dead in or the living out. The two seemed contradictory since the dead cannot hurt you, less known walk around, and the living are often reluctant to walk around with dead people underneath them. So as he walks behind Master Jiko and then closed the gate behind them with the loud metallic ring like a small church bell, he slowly came to the realization that he was very glad that he is not still buried in the ground. At the small circular driveway Adam walked forward and looked around then for the first time he knew he was home, he saw the sign on the front gate in large brass plated letters there were the words in old English script:

LINCOLN CEMETERY

Suddenly a wave of happiness erupted into his heart as he knew he was only minutes from his goal, getting back to be with Marian. He inhales the chilled night air allowing it to fill his lungs and with the lung full of air he can smell the auto exhaust from the next street he looks around and sees a Chevrolet Malibu driving past him, stirring up wet leaves in its wind wake as it passes by. Then another car passes by, this one is a large Buick Electra, and much quieter and better muffled it passes by as the passengers carefully eye him and the shorter Master Jiko as they travel north along Kedzie Avenue.

Hey Adam, don’t get too wrapped up in being home. Remember why you’re here in the first place.

I know Master, but hey, it feels so good to be back home again, you know what I mean don’t you?

I wish I could, I try to make every place I have ever been my home, but they aren’t. The temples are the only place I have ever known. And I have never been married, so I guess anywhere that someone seeks spiritual enlightenment and respect for all life, is my home.

Have you ever been to Chicago before?

No but I’ve been to the United States many times. And that is why I need you here, Adam. Adam looks at him as if to ask what he means by that remark.

Oh you will find out very soon Adam, but right now there are others who need your help and others who will help you. You have to right some wrongs and protect the innocent, help the helpless, you know all of that superhero jive. But I assure all of this is real, just like your power and your weakness are real. He places his hands behind his back, closes his eyes, and flexes his shoulders forward. Adam can hear him take a long breath of air as if this is the most pleasurable thing in his life. Then Adam tries to concentrate on where he is and thinks about what Master Jiko had said to him, and he realizes that with his great power comes a great responsibility. Then Adam turns to look into Master Jiko’s face as his white beard blows in the chilly, yet gentle northwest wind, he thinks about his wife again, and he wonders about should he even tell his wife about his new state of life then he remembers the relationship of love and trust that George and Michiko has between them. Adam then forms a question in his mind, and then he closes his eyes as he inhales the brisk air:

Should I tell Marian that I am a vampire?

I really do not know, should you?

Well man she is my wife, I mean she needs to know. This time Master Jiko does not smile nor does he try to avert his gaze as he looks into Adam’s eyes. Adam looks down slightly noticing for the first time that he is taller than the old man by at least four inches.

Use wisdom and your feelings before you tell her that Adam, I have been nearly betrayed before by someone I wrongly placed my trust in. I had to kill them to keep my secret, although I regretted it, even to this very day. You would not want to do that to your own wife, and mother of your son, would you? Adam finds himself shaking his head unconsciously then he turns to completely face the man in front of him. Adam, there are too many issues around you, too many people have put themselves on the line to even get you here, whether they know it or not. Think about it Adam; who processed your death certificate, who signed them, and lastly think about all of the people who have seen and been around you? The U.S. government has very long arms, so I urge you to protect your secret. Even your family will be in danger, and aren’t they the reason you are even here? Please Adam, think before you make this too well known, ask them first can you trust them and listen to their feelings look into their minds then, if you feel that it is safe and necessary, and tell them about your new state of life. Because, if you cannot see trust in their hearts then you should keep silent, and let them appreciate you for what you appear to be.

Adam thinks about Master Jiko’s words and smiles deeply, as the wisdom sinks deeper into his mind he hears him say:

Well Adam, better get going, your wife and son needs you now and so do many others. Oh by the way, this is about 123rd and Kedzie so if I were you, I’d get to steppin’. He says in an imitation of a south side accent. Adam knows which way north is so he turns to his left and with the wind blowing harder toward the left side of his face he begins to walk down the side of the street, but since there is no sidewalk he finds himself walking along the grassy strip between the fence of the cemetery and the asphalt street. As he walks along the street he glances to his right hoping to see Master Jiko walking beside him, but instead is greeted by the dark wooded area to either side of the street. Then he stops and looks back only to see no one where the aged yet strangely dressed monk once stood, the street is empty yet as he turns around, in the distance nearly a half mile ahead are the headlights of two cars one slightly behind the other. There is no evidence that there was anyone there, as a faint wind from the North West blows into his nostrils chilling his lungs. Knowing that Master Jiko had probably used one of his tricks to move faster than most humans, he turns his back to the south and continues his long walk home.

It was only a few days ago that Marian walked down the long flight of stairs in the constant semi-darkness of the front entrance of their apartment building. The rough, sage green painted walls do not reflect much of the pale yellow light from the single 100 watt incandescent bulb that was set one per floor. The dark brown stain for the banisters, doors and the frames makes one think that the owners had gotten a vast discount on dark brown varnish, which they did. Marian turns the brass doorknob fully to the right and then enters the wide hallway in which each step or small sound echoes from the tile floor and the vast empty size of it. She made this her ritual every day, enter the apartment from the rear which faced 53rd street and then later go downstairs to the front lobby to retrieve her mail, hoping that there would be a letter from Adam which was more prized that the money order folded inside. As she opens the door she feels the cool dampness of the hallway mingled with the faint smell of pine scented cleaner. Outside the thick main entrance door she could see through the thick glass panes with beveled edges, the dark grey clouds of early November in Chicago. The small hedges outside the door sway in the cold damp breeze and their dry leaves making a sound like a set of rattles; their branches are already as devoid of leaves as the trees around them. She makes a beeline for her mailbox, a ritual that she regularly does every day except for Sunday, when she and her baby Adam go to church.

Inside the mailbox is a group of envelopes, Marian leans over slightly to look inside and reaches for them ones inside the dull steel box. As she allows the door to bang shut and allowing her keys to jingle against the frame, she starts to examine every envelope she has clutched in her hand. Then she quickly turns the almost minute key still stuck on the lock and removes her key. After walking through the downstairs door she begins to silently read every address, while wondering which bill she should pay first.

Commonwealth Edison, Illinois Bell… Then the next one catches her eye as this one sparks her interest, she decides to open the envelope upstairs in her apartment where the light is a whole lot better and she can have a little more privacy. As she pushes open the thick door which has already been unlocked, she stands inside the doorway just past the threshold holding the letter from the Army in her right hand, and the others in the left. Suddenly a sense of dread hits her, as she had learned from her friends at work, that a letter from the Army usually meant bad news. She silently prays to herself, hoping that this was not her innermost fear. As she opens the letter she pulls out the single page letter and after skipping through the headings and greetings she gets to the main part.

Dear Mrs. Davis:

It is my sad duty to inform you that your husband Adam Davis has died due to wounds inflicted in action in the Republic of South Vietnam while in combat, October 14th 1972. He served his country and the United States Army well. His bodily remains will be sent to a funeral home or church of your choice, upon notice of an Army burial team officer.

She does not even read the rest as she starts to cry, and then she suppresses it long enough to enter her apartment and close heavy front door and only after she enters she leans back against it closing it with her back pushing it and the quickset locks locking it with an almost inaudible metallic click. Marian cries out in pain and anguish and for a brief moment does her grief block out everything around her, for a brief moment she even forgets to pick up her son from her neighbor, she forgets her hunger and her fatigue from her day at her job, as she cries allowing the letters to fall to the grey carpeted floor as her legs loose all feeling and she slides down the door sitting atop her Commonwealth Edison bill, clutching the single page letter in her left hand as it slowly becomes soaked with her tears which flow ceaselessly to wet her dress and her light tan legs, covered by opaque white stockings. Suddenly, in the midst of all of her silent cries she lets out a loud belated cry that sends a cold startled chill to everyone in the building who could hear her. It was at this time that her neighbor, new friend and also babysitter opens her door and listens in the hallway to find out where the horrendous cry came from.

Marian Boushard had never known the kind of love that Adam had shown her, his words showed a kind of kindness that she had never known. Her wavy auburn hair was never stroked like he had done to her; her dark brown eyes were never kissed by anyone like he had many times done to her. And her soft fingers were never caressed nor had any man placed a wedding ring on her finger like he had done before. She was Black, but her father constantly told her that she was a mulatto and thus she was better than other dark skinned Mississippi, south side blacks, even though her mother was closer to this than he was. Marian was tall, maybe a little taller than most young women her age, even though her posture gave her a kind of slump that made her appear to be a little shorter than her 5'6" would make her appear to be.

She had light cream colored skin that under any circumstances would mark her as being either white or at the very least Italian, a factor her parents took advantage of to send her to all white Catholic schools. Although in the in the summer her slightly tanned skin made her appear like an Italian, or at least part American Indian, her dark skinned father was never seen by anyone, faculty or friends.

Thus she went from grade school to high school never with the slightest suspicion, until one day she was asked to bring her parents to school because many of her friends became suspicious that their classmate had a Negro father or mother. Again and again her mother showed up to various school events claiming her father was working as usual, until Sister Mc McCarthy, the principal asked to see both parents immediately, but what her parents failed to realize was that bigotry was at the inner nature of the school, the church, and the people of that parish as well. When the father arrived with his daughter in tow they told him that she was a good girl and that she was quite an excellent student, and even lied about how good a voice she had for the school choir. Then with a long thick breath she said that she could not tolerate Negroes attending their school because the school has mostly people from the parish, and they began to express their fears about her being there. Thus began the long decent of Marian Boushard, from one of the smartest girls in her class to being kicked out of school because of her parent’s race. Soon afterwards the stress and disappointment of being expelled was too much for her and she turned inward. Then her skin turned an even greater hue of yellow as her body began to react to the added mental stress. By the time her parents noticed her sickness and took her to see a doctor, she had already contracted a kidney infection which necessitated a long hospital stay. After two years of being in and out of the hospital and constant medication, which locked the once bright, outgoing Marian into a recluse which needed constant medication, surveillance, and sheltering, she sank even deeper into her own little world, behaving more like a 12 year old child, instead of an 18 year old teenager. By the time she fully recovered she was too old for any Catholic school and she was barely mature enough to attend Public School. But her parents took a chance with her and sent her to the local school. Now here she was, Marian Boushard, 19 years old attending a Chicago Public School with people who not only her father deemed as being inferior to him but also she is in the same classes with students clearly 2-3 years younger than her, which also fueled her father’s anger, not just at her but seemingly everyone around him. Anger which was also adopted by her own mother, for when Marian spoke to others outside the family she sounded more like she was either 10 or 11 years old.

Her parents hope for a normal life grew dimmer with each passing day, as her world revolved around her many dolls and her trying to keep up with school work that seemed increasingly difficult to her at each attempt. Then one day while visiting her father’s store and working the relatively simple job of ringing up customers she met a young man, who bought only a bag of red hot potato chips and an orange soda. His singularly lonely life met with her singularly lonely life and among the many they shared was the same school, their tastes in music, and a kind of electricity between them. She admired his independence, which he explained was thrust upon him very early in life. And