Friday, January 11, 2008part 2 Lestat and I
Nostalgia- how we became closer
His violin is very large, but you know that preternatural strength is immense. Anything can be managed. Of course this does not mean they are invincible. Lestat placed it inside his bedroom close to the curtains. I didn’t notice where it was kept, until he showed me. it was dry and comfortable, a small secret place opened by lightly pressing a button to loosen the panel.
He played me some pieces and talked briefly about his close brother Nicolas de Lenfent.
I never ceased to be amazed by the musician’s childlike disposition. He never sounded negative or like an old person. He easily dissolved into mirth or tears when he felt excited, saddened or met up with someone! He would ask me politely if crying blood frightened me.
“No it’s ok. I think you’re like a statue.”
His chuckle sometimes could become a real laughing fit if he failed to suppress them. “How nice! If only we could be brother and sister. You’d be my kiddie sis of course! Nice company.”
“What about your doggies?” Seriously and personally, I balk at dogs. They salivate, shed hairs and are smelly.
The marquis scowled. “Dogs Are man’s best friends! I agree with that. They’re not dirty, Bianca. I bathed my dogs every 3 days. Best pups in the litters. Other dogs might be, not mine!”
“Oh, sorry.” I tried to be truly sorry but I couldn’t.
Why can’t you agree with me? ------- internally he cried.
Lestat explained some more, “They were okay. Dogs’ve never betrayed me, or asked me to do things beyond my power. More human than beast.” He shot me a forgiving look. “Didn’t have a dog?”
I Recalled. Cats, hamsters, fish, some of whom expired when we moved house. I’ve given up on a concept of pet, just love myself. I am an animal.
“I see. They’re very good. Some save their owners though they’ve been abused. I hate cats,” Lestat confided.
I smiled. “Haha. We’re on opposite ends. For once. Say, got a snack? I’m famished again.”
He got up lithely. In the kitchen, he peeked inside the fridge. However he felt stumped by the food variety.
“Dumplings, octopus balls, spaghetti, pork buns, so many…. which one?”
“I want spag. Do you know how to cook?” I piped up, seating myself. The vampire took out the packet and examined it critically. Flipped to the back.
“Um… says 11 minutes. I regret that the answer is no. Can you cook? I learn fast. Next time?”
I took the packet and tore it open, measuring the amount I wanted. Emptied half, should be enough. Again, the gentleman simply stared in amazement but no comment on my appetite. I heated up the water in the saucepan, placed the strands in and waited. Once the water boiled, I stuffed them in to become soft. Next, I whipped up the sauce to match, nonspicy tomato ketchup, peppercorn, spices which were in the store. Will do. I hunted inside the fridge. Yes! Leftover chicken. Cool cool. When the whole thing was ready, I tipped my spaghetti steaming on a plate and the gravy on top.
TUCK IN! “Impressive. I’ll do it for you next time.” He said. Clapped.
I smiled. “Merci.” Slurped my noodles. Heaven.
“How is it?” Lestat sat beside me and looked at it curiously. “I think I choked when I ate this.”
“Try. The gravy.” I handed hima teaspoon. Now his pretense is very real, except he consumes only a tiny amount. When they lick, they do it like aliens, sniffing, lick of chops and swipe only the corner of the spoon.
“Good. Thanks.” He scooted off, asking me to enjoy.
Then I realized how hurt he must feel. How could I eat in front of him, my host? It must be tragic not to be human once more. Not forever…. I closed my eyes, focusing. There Lestat headed, whistling, his white shirt a bright glow. The lights were now brightened, but I didn’t mind the dim. I can see well.
Then he rose into the air, about 3cm off the floor, zoom to the hallway. If you look in you;ll mistaken this person for a ghost! Their abilities are like ghosts, but still flesh and can be pressed. I’m more afraid of ghosts. It’s the magic of the vampire gift.
Not all of them can fly and why, he didn’t disclose. He chose to change the subject. I just attributed it to his wish to maintain the mystery so I would keep coming.
Stat I’m sorry. So rude of me!
Why? What’s wrong?----- he tolled like a bell.
You can’t eat. I’m sorry. I like company when I’m having a meal. I hope you don’t mind.
No response. So I headed back to the kitchen where the food had cooled. I was down to half when my friend came in softly. “Hello.” He’d changed, his hair tied back, brown sweater and shorts. Placed a book on the table. “Accompany you.”
“What’re you doing?” it was lined with paper, some of which had writing.
“Writing a diary.”
“You keep one? Wow yea your book. Now you still do this?”
His smile was warm and a red film covered his pupils. Why so emotional? He blinked. “Oui because it’s therapeutic for my soul.”
The red film was the tears he wanted to weep. It alarmed me. I touched his hand, watching the words form. Squiggly. But I could read if I concentrated. I finished my food and washed the dishes. He was engrossed and didn’t say anymore.
“Stat. can I read that?” just a casual question.
Surprises. He answered yes. “Once I finish, go ahead. I love an audience.”
“Isn’t it err… confidential? Mushy,”
“No!”he yelped, then laughed, “ I’m not a romance writer. It’s about what I’ve done. You can understand me better. I’d like that.” His tone sincere and soft.
Why? What if I don’t want to?----- I jumped started.
He pretended not to hear this although I sure as hell, didn’t shield that. “So, any more food you’d like? I’ll ask the matron to order more.”
He didn’t look so good. I waited for a bit as Lestat finished two pages. “When’s your dinner? Or supper? You don’t look well.”
He sighed and stopped for a while, thinking. It must be terrible to see someone feasting and not be able to eat. I have not known anyone this disciplined. My friend asked me if I would be picked up tonight. He wanted to send me home.
“I doubt it. My parents work so much, they come back like, once every 3 to 4 months. Oh yea, I almost forgot. Tomorrow…” I dug my bagpack for my file and out came a flier. “There’s a movie screening. It’s some sort of arts fiesta. The entrance fee is cheap. Would you like to go with us?” Alex and his sister, my cousins had asked me.
Lestat’s face was remote, pallid and the large incandescent irises superimposing on me. I looked above to his forehead. Softly, “Sorry, I’m quite tiedup. Thank you anyway for inviting me.”
I didn’t mind. Hah, you Are busy with vampire business. Coz you didn’t bother and now it’s piling up right?
No! That’s rubbish. What do you mean?-------- he replied swiftly. Impish smile of his full red lips.
Oh, business. As in sucking blood, having affairs, meeting friends, I dunno. It’s ok.
I raised an eyebrow to look really cool saying that.
Lestat glared at me. I poised for an attack. His hand reached out, which I avoided. “I’m not a busy person. I like to daydream. How dare you insult me.”
“I didn’t mean it. Ok cya. I’m going to bed now.” I walked off, trying to remember which was my room. He had made up a spare room for me to stay.
I was lying in bed, placed two cucumbers on my eyelids to cool them. Couldn’t sleep yet. Sigh. I had to sleep! Was Lestat into action movies? No, didn’t seem like it. Too bad he couldn’t go for this one. It was by a French guy with a couple of Belgians. It was all action and mystery.
I flipped to the bookmark where Lestat was performing.
I started. Fair Warning, he’d called my name first. Knock. “Can I come in?”
“Yea.” I took off the cucumber slices. The slender guy stopped within inches of my bed.
“Maybe I can go later. I couldn’t cancel on my friends. I’d love to watch a movie with you sometime. Who’re you going with?” his tone was friendly and entertaining. He smiled which softened the cold resolve of the undead.
“My cousins. That’s cool.”
“Can I see the poster? Wow!” as soon as he picked it up, he looked much better. I think positivity also motivates a vampire like a human.
Carelessly I lapsed into mind telepathy… Hmm thought you’re more of an opera classics man. I just found out from TVL. You’re a stagie.
Good good, you’re catching up on me. what’s a stagie?
A person who’s into acting and opera. ------ I said slightly embarrassed.
Oh. Funny nickname. I’m not Just a stagie, cheriepie. I like modern things too, except steam trains, noisy machines and computers.
Suddenly he seemed to tense and clutched his stomach. His lips pulled back, revealing sharp canines. Glare of a beast. I moved back for the door. Doesn’t show the thirst expression often, it’s an anti climax of a Dracula film. This freaked me coz Lestat always fed before meeting me. plus, he never let people who saw his fangs live.
“Lestat. Are you… um.”
He closed his mouth, clenched his fists. The fit passed. He relaxed again, pained. “Excuse moi. Had a gastric. Have to go now.” I nodded. He flung open the windows and jumped.
I saw him running with blurring speed to the clearings and beyond.
Later it’d really be a case when he attempted to bite me.
Labels: vampire lestat