Finding Innocence - Chapter 3 - PG
Posted: Wed Jan 21, 2009 6:32 pm
Chapter 3
Behind him, the vampire heard what sounded like shrieks coming from the little boy. Damn, his silent heart ached, I didn’t want to scare him. Straightening his shoulders and pushing the hair back off his face, Mick took a deep breath to collect himself. When he turned to face Matthew, all signs of the vampire were gone.
Mick quickly realized that what he had heard were not screams of terror but rather peals of laughter. Matthew had an infectious, heart-warming belly laugh that bubbled up from the bottom of his gut and rolled out like rapid gunfire. Matthew’s mother gathered, from what she had read, that Matthew’s well-developed sense of humor was uncommon in children on the autistic spectrum. She had always considered his infectious laugh a blessing – a beautiful gift to compensate for so much that was missing in her son’s life.
Mick, however, was caught completely off guard. In fifty-five years, he supposed he had seen every possible reaction to the vampire – from disbelief to terror to disgust – but being the source of amusement, of unbridled delight, was something new and totally unexpected. Eyebrows raised, he drew back his head and regarded the child for a moment. And then he couldn’t help himself - the vampire smiled.
The child’s laughter slowly wound down to an exaggerated, self-satisfied sigh. “Ahhhhh. That – was – funnnnn- ny,” the little boy told himself.
The PI moved closer to Matthew and dropped down to one knee so as to be on the same level as the child. “Hey, buddy,” he chuckled. “My name’s Mick. I’m gonna take you back to your mom.”
“You’re a vampire.” Matthew asserted very matter-of-factly and very loudly.
Mick froze. The gravity of the situation suddenly hit home: Matthew understood – the kid knew. Now what was he going to do? What could he do?
At the strangest times, Mick found himself reminded of all those old vampire movie marathons he had sat through with his friend Josef. It was a great stress reliever, Josef had insisted, to watch the “tricked-up Transylvanian, tinsel town twanks with their plastic teeth and bad tailors.” Together the two vampires had laughed at the bat transformations, heckled the crosses and garlic necklaces, snickered at death by wooden stake, and cringed at the sun-induced spontaneous combustion. And although Josef swallowed hard and became uncharacteristically quiet during the torch-bearing mob scenes, he always leaned forward in his seat, with an envious gleam in his eye, to admire one particular literary contribution to vampire mythos - hypnotic, amnesia-inducing mind control.
For the first time since those late-night screenings, Mick had to admit Josef had a point – mind control could certainly come in handy. But that was only an option in literature and in Hollywood fantasy. The reality was, that to protect his secret, the only tools at Mick’s disposal were his wits and his fangs. And using the latter was out of the question.
“Shhhh!” Mick countered, a bit more harshly than he intended, and he regretted his tone immediately.
In response, Matthew bent forward at the waist, his hands on his hips. He tilted his head slightly, peering over the top of his thick glasses.
“Don’t – tell – me - ‘Shhhh!’” the little boy demanded, as he held the stranger in a mock-angry gaze.
His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes squinted furiously, and his lips pursed together in a practiced frown. This was his “mad face.” He used it frequently on his mother or any other authority figure who had the nerve to tell him something he didn’t want to hear. This was the first time, however, that he used it on a vampire.
Mick looked back at the cherub face, now contorted with fierce intensity. This child certainly wasn’t afraid of him, vampire or not, and it didn’t look like he was about to back down. As Mick regarded him with both amusement and concern, considering the best approach to calm the little boy, Matthew’s demeanor abruptly changed. A sudden inspiration swept over the child. He thought of a joke he had learned the previous Halloween. He had memorized it, practicing it over and over again to the chagrin of anyone within earshot. His eyebrows arched and his face suddenly animated, he asked enthusiastically, “What’s - the best way - to talk - to a vampire?”
God, this kid was cute. In spite of himself, Mick answered, “I give up – what’s the best way to talk to a vampire?”
With a wide, mischievous grin on his face, the little boy took five giant steps backward, reciting in a singsong voice, “From – verrrrrrrry – farrrrrr – away!” He stood silent with a blank expression on his face and then pointing at his audience of one, he giggled, “Get it?”
“Very funny,” the vampire replied, only half sarcastically. Matthew stomped back to where Mick was kneeling and stopped with his face just inches from Mick’s. Placing a small hand on each of the vampire’s cheeks, he announced, “I want - to see - your teeth.”
Mick rolled his eyes and shook his head. What was he going to do with this kid?
There was no denying that the PI was out of his element. Matthew was spontaneous - his responses were unguarded. Joy, anger – he put it all out there for the world to see. The child had no filters and no buffers. And he knew Mick’s secret.
“Listen, buddy, you know there’s no such thing as vampires, right?”
“In - correct.” Matthew insisted, “You’re a vampire. I saw you.”
“What you saw – it happened pretty fast. Maybe you got confused.
“I don’t – think – so.”
“Vampires aren’t real,” Mick lied.
“Mommy says - if it’s on TV, it’s not real.” Then, extending one small index finger to poke Mick’s chest, he added, “If you can touch it – it’s real.” He pulled his hand away, holding up his index finger and passing it back and forth in front of his eyes several times, and then he repeated to himself in a faint whisper, “If you can touch it - it’s real. He plopped down on the ground and assured himself one more time, “It’s real...”
Mick closed his eyes and thought for a moment. The candor of this child was disarming. The only other child who had ever seen him in all his un-dead glory was Beth, over twenty years earlier. She had been much younger than Matthew and had been so traumatized by the kidnapping – by Coraline - that she had mercifully suppressed the memory of it. Mercifully, not only for Beth, but for Mick as well, because he was never forced to deal with the questions or provide explanations of what she had witnessed at that young age. Here and now, however, the situation was different and the vampire was at the mercy of fifty pounds of in-your-face honesty.
Mick St. John was a vampire. To try and convince this boy otherwise, to strip away whatever rudimentary understanding of reality and fantasy he had developed, Mick knew would damage the child just as surely as if he sunk his fangs into him and sucked out his life’s blood. Either way, it would bring irreparable harm to an innocent and Mick would have no part of it. There had to be another way.
-----
Behind him, the vampire heard what sounded like shrieks coming from the little boy. Damn, his silent heart ached, I didn’t want to scare him. Straightening his shoulders and pushing the hair back off his face, Mick took a deep breath to collect himself. When he turned to face Matthew, all signs of the vampire were gone.
Mick quickly realized that what he had heard were not screams of terror but rather peals of laughter. Matthew had an infectious, heart-warming belly laugh that bubbled up from the bottom of his gut and rolled out like rapid gunfire. Matthew’s mother gathered, from what she had read, that Matthew’s well-developed sense of humor was uncommon in children on the autistic spectrum. She had always considered his infectious laugh a blessing – a beautiful gift to compensate for so much that was missing in her son’s life.
Mick, however, was caught completely off guard. In fifty-five years, he supposed he had seen every possible reaction to the vampire – from disbelief to terror to disgust – but being the source of amusement, of unbridled delight, was something new and totally unexpected. Eyebrows raised, he drew back his head and regarded the child for a moment. And then he couldn’t help himself - the vampire smiled.
The child’s laughter slowly wound down to an exaggerated, self-satisfied sigh. “Ahhhhh. That – was – funnnnn- ny,” the little boy told himself.
The PI moved closer to Matthew and dropped down to one knee so as to be on the same level as the child. “Hey, buddy,” he chuckled. “My name’s Mick. I’m gonna take you back to your mom.”
“You’re a vampire.” Matthew asserted very matter-of-factly and very loudly.
Mick froze. The gravity of the situation suddenly hit home: Matthew understood – the kid knew. Now what was he going to do? What could he do?
At the strangest times, Mick found himself reminded of all those old vampire movie marathons he had sat through with his friend Josef. It was a great stress reliever, Josef had insisted, to watch the “tricked-up Transylvanian, tinsel town twanks with their plastic teeth and bad tailors.” Together the two vampires had laughed at the bat transformations, heckled the crosses and garlic necklaces, snickered at death by wooden stake, and cringed at the sun-induced spontaneous combustion. And although Josef swallowed hard and became uncharacteristically quiet during the torch-bearing mob scenes, he always leaned forward in his seat, with an envious gleam in his eye, to admire one particular literary contribution to vampire mythos - hypnotic, amnesia-inducing mind control.
For the first time since those late-night screenings, Mick had to admit Josef had a point – mind control could certainly come in handy. But that was only an option in literature and in Hollywood fantasy. The reality was, that to protect his secret, the only tools at Mick’s disposal were his wits and his fangs. And using the latter was out of the question.
“Shhhh!” Mick countered, a bit more harshly than he intended, and he regretted his tone immediately.
In response, Matthew bent forward at the waist, his hands on his hips. He tilted his head slightly, peering over the top of his thick glasses.
“Don’t – tell – me - ‘Shhhh!’” the little boy demanded, as he held the stranger in a mock-angry gaze.
His brow was deeply furrowed, his eyes squinted furiously, and his lips pursed together in a practiced frown. This was his “mad face.” He used it frequently on his mother or any other authority figure who had the nerve to tell him something he didn’t want to hear. This was the first time, however, that he used it on a vampire.
Mick looked back at the cherub face, now contorted with fierce intensity. This child certainly wasn’t afraid of him, vampire or not, and it didn’t look like he was about to back down. As Mick regarded him with both amusement and concern, considering the best approach to calm the little boy, Matthew’s demeanor abruptly changed. A sudden inspiration swept over the child. He thought of a joke he had learned the previous Halloween. He had memorized it, practicing it over and over again to the chagrin of anyone within earshot. His eyebrows arched and his face suddenly animated, he asked enthusiastically, “What’s - the best way - to talk - to a vampire?”
God, this kid was cute. In spite of himself, Mick answered, “I give up – what’s the best way to talk to a vampire?”
With a wide, mischievous grin on his face, the little boy took five giant steps backward, reciting in a singsong voice, “From – verrrrrrrry – farrrrrr – away!” He stood silent with a blank expression on his face and then pointing at his audience of one, he giggled, “Get it?”
“Very funny,” the vampire replied, only half sarcastically. Matthew stomped back to where Mick was kneeling and stopped with his face just inches from Mick’s. Placing a small hand on each of the vampire’s cheeks, he announced, “I want - to see - your teeth.”
Mick rolled his eyes and shook his head. What was he going to do with this kid?
There was no denying that the PI was out of his element. Matthew was spontaneous - his responses were unguarded. Joy, anger – he put it all out there for the world to see. The child had no filters and no buffers. And he knew Mick’s secret.
“Listen, buddy, you know there’s no such thing as vampires, right?”
“In - correct.” Matthew insisted, “You’re a vampire. I saw you.”
“What you saw – it happened pretty fast. Maybe you got confused.
“I don’t – think – so.”
“Vampires aren’t real,” Mick lied.
“Mommy says - if it’s on TV, it’s not real.” Then, extending one small index finger to poke Mick’s chest, he added, “If you can touch it – it’s real.” He pulled his hand away, holding up his index finger and passing it back and forth in front of his eyes several times, and then he repeated to himself in a faint whisper, “If you can touch it - it’s real. He plopped down on the ground and assured himself one more time, “It’s real...”
Mick closed his eyes and thought for a moment. The candor of this child was disarming. The only other child who had ever seen him in all his un-dead glory was Beth, over twenty years earlier. She had been much younger than Matthew and had been so traumatized by the kidnapping – by Coraline - that she had mercifully suppressed the memory of it. Mercifully, not only for Beth, but for Mick as well, because he was never forced to deal with the questions or provide explanations of what she had witnessed at that young age. Here and now, however, the situation was different and the vampire was at the mercy of fifty pounds of in-your-face honesty.
Mick St. John was a vampire. To try and convince this boy otherwise, to strip away whatever rudimentary understanding of reality and fantasy he had developed, Mick knew would damage the child just as surely as if he sunk his fangs into him and sucked out his life’s blood. Either way, it would bring irreparable harm to an innocent and Mick would have no part of it. There had to be another way.
-----
That was actually one of my son's 3 vampire jokes. "Matthew" has a couple more, that I'm saving -- just in case. 
(I may have to ask permission to steal you son's too.)
... perpetual obstinance... I'm gonna remember that one...
Totally apt Josef description about vamp movies!! Love the dilemma Mick is forced into with this smart little boy.