Category Archives: Free Stories
A Conversation Among Male Characters About Women
A Conversation Among Male Characters About Women
The Characters:
SIMON BISHOP: Featured In: Elle (Insatiable: Book One); Golden (Insatiable: Book Two)
GORDON MONROE (Simon’s Cousin): Featured In: Golden (Insatiable: Book Two)
ARTHUR GREEN (Simon and Gordon’s Uncle Artie): Featured In: A Southern Belle: Forbidden
GRAYSON PAGE (Gordon’s Neighbor): Featured In: What Becomes of the Brokenhearted
WESLEY: Featured In: The Neighbor
The Setting: The basement billiard room in Simon Bishop’s Monmouth Beach, New Jersey home.
==========
“So here’s a question for you dudes,” Wesley said. “What’s your favorite outfit on your woman? What do you like to see her in?”
“Boy, what kinda freaky talk you tryin’ to get started up in here?” Uncle Artie snapped.
“Nah man, I’m just wondering. I had this conversation with Gail last night and she said that she didn’t think men cared enough about what women wore to really notice. She said that other women notice what a woman is wearing, but all men want to do is figure out how to get them out of their clothes.”
Gordon said, “Gail is right, in general. But yeah, I think we like certain things, too.”
“You’re talking specific things on our woman only?” Grayson asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” Wes said.
Grayson grinned, “Oh, hell yeah,” and leaned over the table to line up his shot. “Two in the corner pocket.”
Simon laughed, “Sounds like Grayson has something specific in mind on Ivy.”
“You know we all do,” Gordon said. “So what’s your thing on Elle, Cuz?”
“Are you talking about in or out of the house?” Simon asked. “Some things aren’t meant for public consumption.”
Gordon shrugged. “Okay, either. Both.”
“You fools don’t know jack shit about what a woman looks good in,” Uncle Artie grumbled. He glared at Gordon. “You gonna take your shot or stroke your stick all day?”
Gordon leaned over the table. “Every time I see Elle she’s looking like she getting ready to go model for some magazine photo shoot. I don’t know how you can pick just one thing, Cuz. Ten, cross-corner.”
“That’s why I asked if Wes meant in or out of the house,” Simon said. “But you know me G; my favorite ensemble on any woman is naked. If she’s wearing an ankle bracelet she’s overdressed.”
Wesley raised his beer bottle. “Hell, we’ll all drink to that one, Simon. But I can do naked with some heels, too.”
“Ya’ll a bunch a freaks, that what ya’ll are,” Uncle Artie said. “Ain’t no woman prancing around bare-assed just ‘cause you like it. Ain’t a woman God ever made happy about the way she looks with no clothes on, and you can write that shit down. I’ma put that three-ball in the side pocket…gotdamnit! Ya’ll got me thinking about naked hammers so I can’t see straight to shoot!”
“Nah man,” Gordon laughed, “You just can’t shoot pool for shit.”
As Simon leaned over the table he said, “Yeah, Elle does her thing, for sure. But it’s not all her. Sometimes I take her shopping because I feel like it; get her stuff because I want to see her in it. Some of the stores we go to and stuff we get aren’t for public consumption, either. Fourteen, straight up.”
“What kind of stuff?” Wes asked.
“Can’t go there and tell her business,” Simon said. “But one thing she can rock well is basic. She looked good as hell this morning wearing just my shirt. I think it was the light in the kitchen that did it. When the sun hit her just right and made the shirt kind of translucent, that was a sight worthy of photographing to hang on the wall. Sexy without trying to be sexy, you know?”
Gordon nodded. “Yeah Cuz, sometimes the simple things are the hottest. All that lingerie shit? Not always necessary. When we’re just kicking it around the crib when Kia is home Aurelle will wear my boxers and a wife beater. Something about that always gets to me.”
“I’ll tell you what it is,” Uncle Artie said. “It’s the dog in you.”
“What?”
Uncle Artie said, “Simon likes Elle wearing his shirt. You like Aurelle in your drawers. Hey, does she know you used to piss in your drawers? Remember that, Simon? Boy couldn’t see a damned raindrop without letting the waterworks go.”
“Fuck you old man,” Gordon spat. “I was like three years old.”
“I’ma have to talk to Aurelle and warn her about your pissy drawers,” Uncle Artie laughed. “Anyway, what I was saying is that you cats like seeing your woman in your clothes ‘cause you’re like dogs; you want to mark your territory. Your woman wearing your stuff is her wearing your mark. Lets you know she’s yours and makes your dick feel bigger.”
“There’s probably some truth to that,” Grayson said. “We don’t think about it consciously, but there’s probably some primal thing going on, like we killed the animal and she’s wearing its fur.”
Gordon said, “I don’t know; maybe. But Aurelle said that when she wears my stuff it makes her feel closer to me.”
“And when she says that your dick gets big, huh?” Uncle Artie grinned.
“Fuck you again, man.”
“Well you dudes can speak for yourselves,” Wesley said. “I like the lace and frills. I didn’t think I did until I met Gail. That woman single-handedly raised the price of stock for Fredericks of Hollywood.”
Grayson said, “I think the hottest thing I’ve ever seen Ivy in was back before we got involved. She came over to chill wearing these gym shorts that must have been passed down from her slave ancestors. They were raggedy and full of holes but she made them look hot.”
“You know she wore them to fuck with you, don’t you?” Simon smiled. “A woman isn’t going to dress down for a new man without a motive. Either she’s not interested and is trying to keep you at bay, or she knows what she’s wearing will flip your switch.”
“She had me flipping switches like Thomas Edison,” Grayson laughed. “I keep meaning to ask her what happened to those shorts because I haven’t seen her wear them since.”
“They served their purpose,” Simon said. “She hooked your ass so she doesn’t need them anymore.”
Wesley said, “The thing that did it for me like that was Gail wearing nothing but a towel when she came out of the bath. The first time I saw that I damned near had a stroke. I think right then was when I started getting into full-figured women.”
Simon said, “So the bottom line is that it doesn’t take much for us, huh? Women can put in a lot of effort to look good, and we appreciate it for sure, but when it gets right down to it, clothes aren’t that important.”
“See, ya’ll’s some young, ignorant fools,” Uncle Artie said. “Women don’t dress sexy and smart like they used to. Ain’t nothing in the world looks better than a woman wearing seamed stockings and one a them tight skirts that hug their hips and hind parts…what’cha call them skirts, Simon?”
“A pencil skirt?”
“Yeah, that’s it, a pencil skirt. And a tight sweater that hugs them tiddays? Lord have mercy Jesus! See, ya’ll don’t know nothin’ about women who know how to look good and still be classy.”
“No, I feel you Unk,” Gordon said. “I’d rather see a woman like that than some chick flashing her thong and a tramp stamp. Classy is definitely sexier.”
Simon said, “That’s what I was talking about about in or out of the crib. You want your woman to represent when she’s out in the world.”
“You mean represent you?” Wesley asked.
“No, represent herself as a lady. Look good, look sexy, but don’t show the hungry assholes out there sniffing around after her what’s on the menu. That is, not unless you’re playing like that.”
“Playing?” Grayson asked.
Simon said, “Sometimes we just want to fuck with people when we go out, so Elle will wear something smoking just to draw that attention.”
“So you don’t care if other dudes look?” Wesley asked.
“They’re going to look anyway. I’m not paranoid like that. As long as they don’t step to her or disrespect her, no problem. But when she’s dressing like that we have to expect some comments to come. That’s the entire point: take her out, show her off, leave hard dicks in her wake.”
Grayson said, “I think Ivy does that sometimes on purpose, but to women.”
“Okay man, you seriously need to explain that one,” Gordon said.
“No, I mean she’s one of those women that I think sees other women as competition. I think it’s because she was married to a pro football player and women were always after him. So she had to keep her game on point back then, and now she still does. So I think sometimes she’ll wear something extra hot as much to piss women off as to appeal to men.”
“And other women will notice and hate,” Gordon said.
“…that’s what she was wearing when she came to see me…” Uncle Artie mumbled.
The men looked around at him. Uncle Artie stood leaning on his cue stick with a faraway look in his eyes.
“What’d you say, Unk?” Gordon asked.
“She came to see me last fall,” Uncle Artie said. “Shocked the shit out of me because I hadn’t seen her in forty years. But I knew her right away, because she still looked good and, well, I never forgot her.”
“Who are you talking about?” Simon asked.
Uncle Artie said, “The woman who bewitched my young, dumb ass back in the day: Olivia Bettencourt. Girl made me want to cheat on my fuckin’ wedding day.”
Gordon shook his head. “Damn, Unk…”
“Why’d she come to see you?” Simon asked.
“I was in my office at the dealership, and I heard Keisha out in the hall say, ‘That’s his office,’ and I looked up and there she was in the doorway. I almost couldn’t believe it; thought I was dreamin’…but there she was…”
“What’d she want?”
“Just to say hello and take me to lunch. So that’s what we did. After all these years I didn’t think she’d remembered my dumb ass, but she did. She remembered…things…some things that I’d forgotten about.”
“What things?” Gordon asked.
Uncle Artie shook his head. “It’s like Simon said; some things about a woman’s business you don’t talk about to nobody. She has to be sixty by now, but Lord have mercy Jesus she still looked good…”
Simon said, “Let me guess: She was wearing a pencil skirt and seamed stockings.”
Uncle Artie nodded.
“See, that’s when a woman really has it going on,” Simon said. “We forget thong panties and a tramp stamp showing as soon as it’s out of sight. But a woman that you’re still thinking about decades later, for whatever reason? She’s got it going on.”
Wes said, “Okay, so that brings up another question. What is it about a woman that appeals to you? Like, I’m feeling thick women. So what’s your type, or what feature is the one you want to be on point for a woman?”
Uncle Artie snapped back to the present and said, “Boy, who the hell are you with all these questions, Walter Cronkite?”
From the stairs came the lilt of feminine voices and the sound of descending footsteps.
In a low voice Simon said, “We’ll pick this up later.” As Aurelle appeared, followed by Elle, and then Ivy and Gail he spoke louder. “So who do you think was more valuable at their position, Mariano Rivera or Michael Jordan?”
Elle laughed and said, “Don’t even try it.”
“What were you guys really talking about down here?” Ivy teased.
“Women, probably,” Gail said.
Aurelle said, “That’s fine, as long as it was about us.”
“Don’t worry about that sugar,” Uncle Artie said. “These fools might be fools most of the time, but they got enough sense to appreciate their blessings.”
Elle said, “Well, the pizzas are here. Are you coming up, or do you want to eat down here so you can talk about us some more?”
© 13 March 2013
The Black
Find the books starring these characters here:
Free Story: About Love (A Christmas Tale)
ABOUT LOVE
Mapleton, North Carolina, 1955
Joshua walked up the dirt road, his aching feet dragging, his battered work boots kicking up dust. The dust didn’t matter. He was already so dirty and sweaty that it was going to take three baths before he felt anywhere close to being clean again.
His legs and thighs ached, but that ache was nothing compared to the agony in his back and shoulders. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm and gazed toward the heavens. The summer sun was low in the sky, but still the late day heat was stifling.
Lord, give me strength…
This was his first day on the job – twelve hours breaking his back in the tobacco fields under the sweltering sun. Every muscle in his body cried out for him not to go back tomorrow, to find some easier way to earn a living. But there was no other way. And he was thankful just to have the job.
There’d been some news today that there might be trouble coming. Some woman down in Alabama had refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white man, and she’d been locked up for her trouble. Folks were worried that just to make sure nobody starting getting any such ideas here in Hertford County, the nightriders might make an example out of somebody. So everybody in the fields today was nervous. And nobody slacked off on the job.
He’d been walking for over two hours, and finally his little house came into view up ahead. It wasn’t much – just two rooms and an outhouse – but it was home. Their first home. He’d rented the place from the same man in whose fields he’d spent this day breaking his back.
Even looking at their home from a distance Joshua was reminded that the place needed some work, starting off with patching the hole in the tin roof before the next rain. He figured he’d get to that tonight after supper.
Lord, I’m so tired.
Now that home was in sight his aching body felt as if it wanted to give up. He felt like he could just fall out right here, lay his head in the dirt and sleep his life away.
But he kept walking.
He thought about how hard this day had been, and that all he had to look forward to was more days and weeks and months and years like this one, days in which he worked his body until he had nothing left. He thought about getting up tomorrow and the next morning, six days a week, to do it all over again. That’s how his father had lived his life, and his father before him. And that was what he had to look forward to.
He was a man, but the thought made Joshua blink back tears of despair.
Lord, why have you made my life so hard?
As he limped into his front yard the aroma of skillet fried pork chops, collard greens seasoned with fatback and fresh hot cornbread greeted him. His stomach rumbled a return call.
The front door was open, and as he reached the house she stepped out onto the creaky wooden porch. His heart jumped in his chest, and his despair rinsed away like sand in a rainstorm
Rose – his wife, his love – wore a faded hand-me-down calico dress under a worn apron on which she wiped her hands. Her coal black hair was pulled back from her beautiful brown face, which glistened with perspiration. She’d probably been cooking all afternoon on that wood-burning stove. Joshua figured it had to be hot in that house, as hot in there for her as it had been for him out in the fields. Still, when their eyes met she greeted him with a smile.
In spite of his sore feet and legs his stride lengthened and quickened, and in two steps he was on the porch and sweeping her up into his arms.
As he hugged and kissed his new bride he forgot his exhaustion and the ache in his muscles. He forgot his despair. If he had to toil for the rest of his days in fields of fire in the pit of hell it was worth it.
It was worth it because she was worth it.
© 2005
**********
ABOUT LOVE II
Long Branch, New Jersey
December, 1963
“Look Rosie, it’s starting to snow!” Mrs. Porter exclaimed. She was so excited that for a moment she took her hands off the steering wheel.
Rose tensed in the passenger seat and mentally prayed that this fool wouldn’t kill them. She didn’t want to die, especially right before Christmas.
It had been five years since Joshua brought them up from North Carolina to New Jersey, and in those five years she’d ridden in more cars than she had in her entire twenty-one years of life previously. But Rose still couldn’t get used to Mrs. Porter’s crazy driving. It was a wonder they gave the woman a driver’s license.
To Rose’s great relief Mrs. Porter grabbed the wheel and stopped the car just before they reached the red light at the corner of Third Avenue and Broadway. Another foot and they would have been in the boot of that big old Chrysler Imperial in front of them.
“It will be so nice to have snow this Christmas,” Mrs. Porter said. “Did you have much snow at Christmas in North Carolina?”
“No, not too much,” Rose said. She was proud that she’d remembered not to stick a “ma’am” at the end of her answer. She’d noticed that up here in New Jersey colored folks didn’t call white folks “sir” and “ma’am” just because they were white.
They turned off Third Avenue onto downtown Broadway. It was evening, and the street was lit up with Christmas lights. Decorations hung on the lamp posts. Shoppers hurried up and down and across the street amidst the gently falling snowflakes, skittering in and out of stores like bees buzzing around their hives.
To Rose the scene looked like something out of one of those nice old holiday movies. The spirit of Christmas swelled within her breast.
She hoped that Joshua would be home in time to celebrate Christmas with her and the children. If he wasn’t back from his trip in time it would be the first Christmas in their eight years of marriage that they’d be apart.
“This is so lovely,” Mrs. Porter sighed. “Lord knows we need something cheerful in our lives after all that’s happened lately. Can you believe it’s been a month since they killed the President in Dallas?”
“It seems like it happened yesterday,” Rose said. She answered her employer but her mind was on her husband, who was on the road for his company, delivering aluminum doors and windows.
They turned off Broadway onto Liberty Street, and two blocks later onto Monmouth Avenue. Rose gathered up her things as they neared her house. As Mrs. Porter pulled to a stop at the curb Rose said, “Thank you for the ride, Mrs. Porter.”
Even though they’d taken this same ride five days a week for the last four years, Rose didn’t think it hurt to show appreciation. She still remembered how Joshua walked for miles to and from the fields every day when they lived in North Carolina. Old Mr. Jenkins would never have thought to give any colored worker a ride home.
“It’s my pleasure Rosie,” Mrs. Porter said. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for me. “In fact, Mr. Porter and I have decided that we really ought to show our appreciation for all your hard work by giving you a Christmas bonus this year.”
From her purse she extracted a crisp fifty dollar bill and handed it to Rose.
Rose stared in shock at the money. This was twice as much as she made in a week cooking and cleaning for the Porter family.
This year for Christmas she and Joshua had bought a new set of cap pistols for Little Josh and a doll for baby Carol. There were still two days to go before Christmas. With this money she could buy them more toys, and get something nice for Joshua, who worked so hard to support them.
Rose fought to contain her emotions. “Mrs. Porter, thank you. We all thank you so much,” she said.
Mrs. Porter patted her hand. “Think nothing of it, dear. As I said, we really do appreciate all you do for us. And that’s something else, Rosie. I do wish you would call me Ruth. After all, I consider us friends.”
Rose went up the walk to the house blinking tears from her eyes. The Lord sure was good to them. After all their struggles in the south He’d seen His way to guide them up north to a better way of life. Now if only He could find a way to bring Joshua home before Christmas.
Nessie Thompson lived in the upstairs half of the house they rented. Nessie watched the children while she and Joshua were at work. Rose decided that she’d go into her own house and take off her coat and rest her feet for a minute before she went up to get the children. But when she opened the door to her living room Joshua was standing right there in front of the Christmas tree, holding Little Josh and Carol in each of his strong arms. He was grinning at her from ear to ear.
“Merry Christmas, Baby,” he beamed.
She didn’t remember running across the room to her family, and didn’t know how Joshua managed to hug her while still holding their babies. But Joshua had always managed to take care of his family, whether it was suffering in the sun in the tobacco and cotton fields, or finding a way to move them north to a better life. So she wasn’t surprised at anything he managed to accomplish for them.
“How did you get home?” she said into his chest.
“By driving that danged truck like I was in the Pony Express,” he said. “The boss was surprised to see me back so soon. I told him don’t get used to it, but ain’t no way I’m gonna be away from my woman and my babies for Christmas.”
Unable to speak through her emotion, Rose just hugged her man tighter.
Joshua said, “And guess what, Baby? The boss appreciated me working so hard and fast, so he gave me a fifty dollar bonus on top of my pay. Now don’t that beat all?”
“Yes Honey, that’s just about beats all,” she said. “Now come on and sit down. I’m gonna make some pork chops and collards and corn bread.”
Joshua smiled even harder. “Just like the old days, huh Baby?”
Rose handed him the fifty dollar bill given to her by Mrs. Porter. “No Husband, nothing is like the old days. I want to thank you for that – for giving us a better life.”
Joshua looked down at his wife. He remembered that hot summer day eight years ago when he’d felt so tired and helpless thinking about the future. He remembered Rose coming out onto the porch, sweating from her day over the stove.
“No, I’m the one who ought to thank you,” he said. “If it hadn’t been for wanting a better life for you, I’d still be working in the fields just like my daddy and granddaddy did. Love is what got us a better way of life. And love will always keep us.”
Rose couldn’t find the words to respond. So she held onto her man and leaked tears onto his shirt. The Lord sure is good to us, she thought again.
Joshua said, “Baby, it’s a little cold out, but do you feel like taking a walk? I don’t want you cooking tonight. Let’s go downtown and have us a nice eat out dinner. You deserve it. Nessie already said she’d watch the kids and feed them.”
They walked up Monmouth Avenue with their arms around each other. Big feathery flakes of snow flurried around them, and they walked with their heads bowed against the chill December night. But they really didn’t feel the cold. Love warmed their hearts and their spirits.
As they turned up Liberty Street and then neared Broadway, they heard the voices of carolers filling the night with holiday cheer. They stopped on the sidewalk and listened to the beautiful lyrics of Silent Night.
“Oh Joshua, do you feel it?” Rose asked her husband as they enjoyed the carolers.
“Feel what Baby?”
“God. God is out here tonight. I feel him all through my bones!”
Joshua smiled down at his wife. “He’s always out here, Baby. It’s just that sometimes, when everything seems like it’s going wrong, we forget that He’s right there, waiting for us to use His strength to get us through. Look at where we’ve been, and where we are now. That ain’t nothing but the Lord moving us with His blessings.”
“Then let’s keep moving,” Rose said. “I can’t wait till we get there!”
“You that hungry, Baby?”
“No husband,” Rose said. “I can’t wait to get to the next wonderful thing God has planned for us.”
© 2006
Nightwalkers: How I Spent My Summer Vacation (A Vampire Linares Story)
Nightwalkers: The Vampire Linares
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
Long Branch, New Jersey
Summer 1962
Sunday Night
“Are you sure it’s all right for us to be down here?” the girl asked. “It’s so dark.”
“Yeah, sure, “Steve said. He was holding her soft hand as he guided her along the sand under the lip of the boardwalk. “They only close the beach because the lifeguards aren’t on duty at night. It’s not like it’s illegal or anything.” He stopped and looked at her. “Are you scared?”
The girl looked up into his eyes and said, “I’m with you, Steve. I’m not afraid.”
The way she spoke with her little accent made Steve want to kiss her. He wanted to do more than kiss her because she was so pretty. That’s why he’d approached her this afternoon as she’d stood alone against the boardwalk railing, gazing out at the ocean. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have had the nerve to approach a girl so sexy, but she’d looked his way and smiled at him, and then he hadn’t been able to help himself. His legs had carried him to her side as if they’d had the courage that the rest of him lacked.
She’d looked beautiful this afternoon, but Steve thought she looked more beautiful tonight. The moonlight illuminated her pretty face, which surrounded by her ebony hair almost seemed to float in the darkness.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said. “I promise.”
“Thank you Steve.”
She smiled at him as she thanked him. The way she smiled at him made him want to throw her to the sand and rip her shorts off. He’d never wanted a girl so much, except for Marilyn Monroe. But he’d only seen Marilyn on the movie screen. This girl was real life. She was real, and he’d convinced her to come down onto the beach with him. It was almost midnight. They were all alone on the sand. He had high hopes.
The girl looked away from him toward the ocean that was as dark as the night sky and said, “I love the sound of the sea at night; it whispers in the dark like two lovers. The rumble of the waves is the man’s voice in her ear. The surf against the sand is the woman’s sigh.”
“That sounds like poetry,” Steve said.
“Making love is poetry, Steve. Our bodies write the sweet verses.”
Steve felt his desire for the girl harden. He’d never heard a girl talk like this. How did she know about making love? Had she done it before? The guys in his frat said that foreign girls were fast and loose. Was it really true and not just more malarkey about women made up by his schoolmates? If it were true, then maybe he’d be bragging about this summer vacation until Christmas.
“Steve?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever swum at night?”
“Huh? Oh, no. I mean, there are no lifeguards…”
“I would like to go for a swim. Would you join me?”
“Now?”
“Yes, Steve.”
“But we don’t have bathing suits.”
“I don’t want to bathe, Steve. I want to swim.”
She took her clothes off.
Everything.
———-
“Oh my god, you’re so…oh my god…”
The naked girl backed away from him, into the darker than night shadows under the boardwalk. Now the light of the moon barely reached her, and Steve could only see slivers of her pale skin. He felt a twinge of apprehension, an instinctual warning that all wasn’t right. But she was so beautiful, and she was naked.
From the dark shadows under the boardwalk her invitation came to him as a whisper carried on the salted breeze: “Come to me. Let us write our verses on the sand.”
Steve followed her into the darkness.
———-
Long Branch, New Jersey
J.J. Newberry’s Five and Dime
Summer 1962
Wednesday
The girl sat on a stool on the short leg of J.J. Newberry’s L-shaped lunch counter, facing the glass door entry of the five and dime. She wore pink Capri pants and a white blouse with red polka dots, white mules, and a white scarf knotted around the base of her slender neck. Dark sunglasses perched on the crown of her head.
She was fair-skinned, and her creamy complexion looked all the more so because of its contrast to her coal black hair, which fell past her shoulders almost to her trim waist. Her ruby-painted lips provided another contrast, one that drew the attention of the three men who’d come to Newberry’s for burgers and grilled cheese sandwiches on their lunch breaks.
The girl also drew the attention of shopping housewives, some with whining children in tow. The women either glared at her with their lips curled in barely concealed contempt, or looked at each other and shook their heads as if to say, Where did that harlot come from, and how can we keep her away from our men?
A couple of teenage girls who were probably playing hookie from high school fiddled with costume jewelry for sale and stared at the older girl with wide-eyed awe and admiration.
The three men at the lunch counter tried to be less obvious about stealing glances at the girl’s red lips as she puckered them around the straw of her milkshake. But they noticed. In their individual thoughts they wondered how her pucker might feel as a kiss, or how her lips might feel wrapped around something more substantial than a soda straw.
One of them, a young man with brush-cut blonde hair and wearing a short-sleeved shirt and a tie decorated with a drip of fresh mustard, took particular interest in the lovely girl. He sat on a stool at the far end of the long leg of the lunch counter, near the entrance. It gave him a nice viewing angle as he watched the girl. When she sipped her shake and then flicked her pink tongue over her red lips he shook his head and muttered, “Jumpin’ Jesus in a rowboat!” to himself around a mouthful of his burger.
The young man’s name was Alex Crenshaw. He was on lunch break from his job uptown at Nash Aluminum. He thought the girl at the other end of the lunch counter looked hot to trot. He thought that if he could get in a word with the little honey and things went his way, he wouldn’t bother going back to work today. The real good time would come later, when he went home with lipstick on his shirt and smelling like cooze. Watching his wife cry over his cheating was such fun.
The bells over the store entry tinkled, and a colored man entered the five and dime. Alex only took notice of the man – who was as dark a Negro as he’d ever seen – as he passed and moved down the lunch counter aisle because he was wearing a suit. He figured he must be a teacher, or a fucking preacher. He turned his attention back to more interesting things: The sweet treat sitting at the other end of the counter.
The colored man walked down to the end of the lunch counter. He stepped to the pretty girl’s side. That drew Alex’s attention back to him.
The girl smiled up at the dark man and said something to him. He said something to her, and her smile faded. The colored guy didn’t look too friendly. Alex got up off his stool.
———-
Linares sensed Abdiel’s presence minutes before he entered the store. She always knew when he was near because they shared a bond. The essence of immortality that permeated every cell in her body was his essence, because he was her creator.
As she waited she could barely contain her joy. She hadn’t seen Abdiel in nearly four centuries, not since they’d visited the New Netherland colony together. This place – New Jersey – had once been a part of the colony. They’d come to see the place at which the angel Sophia had foretold that the Chosen One – the true daughter of Havah – the Eve – would become known and would fulfill her destiny as one of the Trinity. Sophia and Abdiel were the other members of the Trinity. One day the Trinity would lead mankind in the second and final battle against evil – against Lilith and her spawn, the shadows of death.
Linares watched Abdiel enter the store and approach. Her heartbeat quickened; the essence of life carried in borrowed blood raced throughout her body. If anyone had been paying close enough attention, they might have observed that she looked a couple of years younger than moments before.
When the one who made her immortal reached her side she smiled at him and said, “Have you ever had a strawberry milkshake? They’re absolutely divine. I had no idea –”
In a low voice Abdiel said, “I will have words with you about the body that washed ashore in Deal Township yesterday. But there are other matters to attend first.”
Linares looked at the man approaching them from the other end of the lunch counter. She said, “The demon.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“This time try to use discretion.”
“I threw him out to sea as far as I could.”
“That is not the issue. We’ll talk later, Linares.”
The young man reached them and said to her, “Excuse me Miss, are you okay here?” He shot Abdiel a suspicious glare.
Abdiel said, “My apologies. I thought the young lady was someone I knew. I was mistaken.”
“Yeah well, no harm, no foul, right chief?” the man said. “Now you have a good day, okay?”
“You as well,” Abdiel said, and to Linares, “Good day, Miss.” He headed for the exit.
The man watched Abdiel’s back until he exited onto the street, then looked at her, smiling. “My name is Alex,” he said. “I rescue damsels in distress.”
**********
“Do you think I’m in distress?” the girl asked.
She looked even prettier up close. Alex wondered how good she’d look out of her clothes. The way she was looking at him, he thought he had a good chance of finding out. “Not as long as you’re with me,” he said.
“And how long will that be?”
“How about the rest of the afternoon? I know a nice little spot up in the Highlands.”
The girl took her straw out of her now empty glass. With her eyes on his she ran her tongue along the lower third of the straw, gathering up the pink sweetness. She swallowed and breathed, “Mmm, so good.”
“So can we get out of here?” Alex asked, now anxious.
“I’ll tell you what – buy me another shake and I’ll think about it.”
**********
Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey
Alex leaned against the bathroom door jamb in the motel room, sipping a Ballentine and staring at the girl, who sat on the side of the bed, smiling at him.
He was going to fuck her good, but the best part would come tonight, when he went home and told Peggy about it. His wife would cry her heartache, and then he’d beat her for crying. Then he’d fuck her too, while telling her that she was the worst lay he’d ever had, that every other woman he boned was better. That was the best, when he made her feel that she was nothing, that she had no value as a woman or a wife. Human misery was such a deliciously sweet treat.
Alex wiped the beer from his chin with the back of his hand and said to the girl, “Hey, I didn’t get your name. What’s your name, sweet treat?”
The girl got up and went to the door. She tested the knob, and reached for the chain latch. As she slid it into place she said, “My name is Linares.”
Linares. Alex decided that when he fucked this girl he’d make it hurt her. It’s what she deserved for having the same name as the Iberian bitch. Maybe he’d kill her.
The girl turned from the door, but she didn’t return to the bed. Instead she moved in front of the room’s single window. She was still smiling at him.
She said, “It’s your misfortune…Alex…that when you take possession of someone your senses are limited to those of your human host. When you take someone, you can’t see us. You can’t see your death.”
**********
Linares watched the demon look around for a way out, but there was none. Recognizing its predicament, it stepped away from the bathroom door, into the room.
The demon’s eyes shone red at her. It dropped the beer bottle and hissed, “Let me pass, vampire, and I will let you live.”
“Your only passing will be into nonexistence,” Linares said. “For you, the end of time is now.”
“Then put aside your blade, Linares. Fight me as an equal.”
“You’re not my equal, demon. You’re filth. You’re the spawn of she who is the betrayer, she who lay with the Father of Lies. For the harm you have done, you deserve no consideration and no quarter.”
“You dare judge me? You, who drink the blood of those you claim to protect? You, the progeny of a twice-defeated angel? We won over Sophia at the tomb Havah. We crucified Yeshua. Abdiel lies to you, Linares. The angel will not return. The world and the souls of man belong to us. We have won. Now let me pass.”
**********
“Was this necessary?” Abdiel asked. He looked around, at the blood-spattered walls, and at the pieces of the body strewn about the motel room.
“I was angry,” Linares said.
“The demon did not feel the man’s suffering. Ripping him apart served no purpose.”
“It made me feel better.”
“And the demon? Why did you not use your blade?”
“Because I fear no evil. The shadows of death will never turn me from my purpose, from our purpose.”
“You endanger our purpose with carelessness, Linares. To destroy a demon is one thing, but what about the man on the beach?”
“I…lost control. We were being intimate and I took the essence at the height of my bliss. It wasn’t my intent to kill him. But I threw his body far out to sea.”
“Not far enough. Fortunately a member of the county’s homicide division is a consort. The death is being reported as an organized crime assassination.”
“I’m sorry, Abdiel. I’ll be more careful.”
“See that you do. Use your essence to control man, to clean his memory of your act or to make him your consort. No death unless necessary. Man has progressed beyond primitive superstitions and now uses reason to understand the way of things. We must progress as well. So while you are here, replenish your essence without taking lives.”
“Why am I here, Abdiel? Has the daughter of Havah arrived as foretold?”
“She is here. She doesn’t know what she is or her true purpose. But she will need to know soon. When that time arrives I want you to serve as her advisor.”
“As you wish, Abdiel.”
“I have a car. We’ll go to my home. You’ll live with me until you find your own residence. Others will arrive shortly to clean up this mess.”
“Are there others in the area?”
“Just you, I, and the Chosen One. I’ve kept this area reserved for her. When she’s ready, she’ll begin to fulfill her destiny here.”
Linares slid into the back of Abdiel’s limousine. She lay back and closed her eyes. She wondered what it would be like to meet the Chosen One. She wondered if she would sense the blood of Havah – the Eve – pulsing in her veins.
Linares wondered if when all was said and done, she would worship the Chosen One as the new Havah, or if instead she would have to destroy her.
© August 2012
The Black
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Free Story: Nightwalkers: The Vampire Linares
Nightwalkers is one of the books I’m currently editing for publication. While working on that, an idea occurred to me that had nothing to do with the novel. I hope you enjoy my little distraction.
The Black
——————–
Nightwalkers: The Vampire Linares
“Keep that bitch away from me,” Calvin grumbled.
Robert chuckled, “Relax man, she won’t bite. Hit me.”
Calvin dealt Robert a two of diamonds. “Yeah, so you say. She looks hungry to me; kind of pale.”
“She’s always pale. She’s from England or somewhere.” Robert looked over at Linares, who’d taken her Reeboks off and sat curled up on the end of the sofa, watching The View. “Hey baby, you’re from like London or Liverpool or somewhere, right?”
Without looking away from the television Linares said, “Spain.”
“She don’t look Spanish,” Calvin muttered.
Now Linares looked at Calvin. She smiled at him. “And you don’t look American.”
“What the fuck you mean? I was born here. My people were brought over here in chains, bitch. My people were here before most of the motherfuckers in this motherfucking country got here. I’m American; I don’t know what the fuck you are.”
“If you want to be technical, I’m Iberian,” Linares said.
What the fuck’s an Iberian, bitch? I thought you just said you were from Spain.”
“I was born in Spain before anybody ever called it Spain…bitch.”
“Yeah well, whatever the fuck you are, just keep your ass over there on that couch, ‘cause I don’t trust you. And what the fuck are you doing out in the daytime anyway? It’s damn near high noon. Aren’t you supposed to be burning up or something?”
“The dark man sent her,” Robert said. “Hit me again.” Calvin dealt an eight of hearts and Robert said, “Shit, busted on twenty-two!”
Linares said, “You shouldn’t believe everything you see in the movies, Calvin. We don’t all walk the night. Those of us old enough have learned to adapt.”
Calvin barely noticed his win at cards. He had his eyes on Linares, who’d turned her attention back to Barbara Walters and her crew. “So how come Abdiel didn’t come himself? He ain’t as old as you? Dark as that nigga is he shouldn’t even feel sunlight.”
“Abdiel is the oldest of us all, and the most powerful,” Linares said. “He simply prefers anonymity.”
“Anna who?”
Robert spit out a laugh. “She means the brother likes to keep his shit undercover. Damn man, pick up a book sometime.”
“So what’d he send you here for?” Calvin asked Linares. “What’s up? We’ve been handling our business like we’re supposed to. Me and Phillip got the sleeping chamber finished. It’s so light tight you can’t even squeeze air in.”
“And I’ve got around the clock security ready to go to work,” Robert added. “You can move somebody into the house whenever you’re ready.”
“So what’s going on?” Calvin asked again. “I mean, this ain’t typical, one of you just showing up for no reason. You sure you’re not just feeling thirsty and come here looking for somebody to suck on?”
Linares giggled at something on television and then said, “One of the four of you has been taken. When Phillip and Teresa return I’m going to kill that one.”
Calvin said, “Fuck!” and shot up from the card table so fast that he knocked his chair over.
**********
The View went into commercial break, so Linares watched Calvin with an amused smile as he rifled frantically through his tool bag. He came out with a claw hammer.
“What the fuck you talking about, ‘taken?’” he shouted at her. “What the fuck you talking about, killing somebody?” He looked at Robert and pointed at her with the hammer. “See? I told you that bitch was up to something! She was looking at us funny the minute she walked in the door. I told you she was hungry!”
Robert had gathered up the playing cards and was shuffling them. He said, “Relax, man. If she wanted your blood you’d be running on empty right now. So Linares, what’s this taken thing?”
A commercial about shampoo had drawn Linares’ attention away from the men. As she watched it she ran her fingertips through her raven black hair. “How do you think I’d look as a blonde?”
“Not so hot,” Robert said. “Blondes need a tan to work it right. You’ve got that milky thing going on with your complexion. The black hair is a nice contrast. You look sexy like you are, so I wouldn’t change it.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet. Thank you.”
“Man, fuck all that bullshit!” Calvin yelled. “She ain’t giving you no pussy!” He shook the hammer at her. “Who you trying to kill, huh? ‘Cause all I did was build the fucking box like ya’ll said!”
Linares swung her legs off the sofa. She wore jeans under a New York Yankees replica pinstriped jersey, and looked like anyone’s college girl next door. Calvin outweighed her by ninety pounds and was clutching his hammer, but he backed up a step.
Linares didn’t stand. She placed her hands primly on her knees and looked back and forth at the two men. Then she said, “One of you four has been taken by evil. The demon controls your actions and every word you speak. It’s come to try to destroy the one we set up the house for.”
“Hey, all I did was build the fucking box around the bed,” Calvin said. “I ain’t trying to destroy shit, and I don’t want to get destroyed, neither. So keep your fucking fangs off me.”
Robert said, “My security team is tight. Nobody will get close to whoever is coming.”
Footsteps sounded on the front porch. Robert dropped the cards. His hand shot to his side and he gripped the butt of his service revolver.
“It’s Phillip and Teresa,” Linares said, and Robert relaxed.
**********
“So are you going to bite one of us?” Teresa asked. “I mean like, bite us for real? Because I kind of like the little nibbles you give me.” She sat next to Linares on the sofa, close enough that their hips touched. Phillip sat on Linares’ other side. “Actually, I really like them.”
“That’s because it makes you come,” Phillip said. “This isn’t about that. This is serious stuff.”
Teresa scowled at Phillip. “Yeah well, you fucked her, you asshole. Don’t think I forgot that. So she made you come, too.”
“I swear I didn’t know he was your husband then,” Linares said.
“Yeah well, he knew he had a wife,” Teresa snapped. “I blame him, Linares.”
Calvin had been pacing the living room with his hammer clutched in his fist. Now he stopped and glared at Phillip and Teresa. “What the fuck is wrong with ya’ll? This bitch is fittin’ to kill one of us and you’re talking about your dick and pussy. What the fuck?”
Teresa smiled up at him. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she said. “It’s like…like…” She clutched herself and shivered. “Bliss…”
“Yeah well, fuck all that,” Calvin said. “I’m in it for the money. Keep paying me and I can buy all the bliss I want. But I ain’t letting shit bite me; not Linares, not Abdiel, not none a them pointy-teeth motherfuckers.”
Robert was still at the card table, shuffling the cards. He said, “So Linares, why didn’t you just pick off whoever it is while they were by themselves? Why do you want all four of us here?”
Linares sat back on the sofa and crossed her legs. Teresa scooted closer to her, and the vampire wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Calvin curled his lip and shook his head in disgust.
Linares said, “It’s what Abdiel wants. He wants you all to bear witness.”
“Bear witness to what?” Phillip asked. He reached to place a hand on Linares’ breast, but Teresa smacked it away.
The vampire said, “Evil isn’t just a thing that men do, Robert. It’s not simply a thing you can control with a will to be good. Evil is an entity. It exists separate and apart from the will of man. You’re going to see the demon. You’re going to see evil in its earthly form. By bearing witness to the physical presence of evil, your faith in the rightness of what we do will be reinforced. You’ll better know that your service to us is a righteous service.”
“So you’re going to bite one of us for real?” Teresa breathed, “Like, suck us good?”
Calvin said, “She’s going to kill you, you stupid fucking horny –“
“Hey, watch it man,” Phillip warned. “You’re talking to my woman.”
“I can’t take the blood of the possessed,” Linares said. “It’s fouled, laced with the filth of Lilith, the mother of demons. It would make me sick.”
Phillip said, “Then it must be Calvin. He’s the only one that won’t let you bite him.”
Calvin backed away from the sofa, back to the card table. “Uh-uh-hell no-that’s bullshit! Ain’t no fucking demon inside me!”
“The possession happened recently,” Linares said, “a day or so ago at most. It could be any one of you.”
“How are we going to see the demon?” Teresa asked.
“A person weak of spirit is easily taken by evil,” Linares explained. “But once it enters its host, the demon can’t leave so easily. It requires either extraction by exorcism – which is painful for the demon – or the death of the host body. Until either happens, the demon is trapped within its host. But when the body perishes, the demon is released. Many human suicides are actually caused by a demon wanting to leave its host. Anyway, since I’m not a priest I’ll have to kill the one of you possessed to release the demon. You other three will see it then, when it leaves the body. Then I’ll kill it, too.”
“So you know which one of us it is?” Phillip asked.
Linares nodded. “Besides being able to bear the sun, another benefit of my age is that I can sense the presence of Lilith’s spawn. That’s something a young vampire can’t do. It’s why Abdiel chose me to prepare the house.”
Teresa snuggled closer to Linares and kissed the corner of her mouth. Then she said, “So the demon knows you can see it?”
Linares smiled. “It does now.”
“How are you going to kill it?” Robert asked.
Linares stood up. She reached back under her hair to her collar and grasped the hilt of the dagger sheathed at her back. She held the blade out for her consorts to see. “This blade is forged from the ore from the earth of The Garden. It can cleave the ethereal flesh of the spawn of Lilith.”
Robert heaved the card table over, dashed for the front window and dove headfirst through the glass.
**********
Linares was a blur as she flashed from the sofa to the window. She grasped Robert by the back of his policeman’s shirt and yanked him back into and across the room. He slammed into the far wall and fell to the floor, but was on his feet instantly. Shards of glass stuck out of his face. Blood oozed out around the glass, matching the sudden glowing red in his eyes.
Calvin yelled, “Oh, fuck!” and drew back his hammer, ready to fight whichever of the creatures came at him. Phillip clutched Teresa to him as if his human arms would protect her from whatever was about to happen.
Robert yowled a cry that sounded like a mixture of a cat’s screech and a snake’s hiss and charged at Linares. The demon used Robert’s human arm to strike at the vampire, but Linares caught his fist and twisted hard. Robert’s forearm cracked like a breaking tree branch and dangled uselessly in the sleeve of his uniform shirt.
Snarling, Robert snapped at Linares like a rabid dog. She jerked her head away, and his teeth chocked together so hard that a couple broke loose from their roots and fell from his mouth.
Linares took a skip-step back, and then delivered a side kick to the side of Robert’s knee. His leg collapsed on itself, and he dropped to one knee. Linares was on him in a blink. She wrapped her arm around his head and grasped his chin. She wrenched his head around so violently that it spun twice on his neck, and Robert dropped face first to the floor, his human body dead.
Linares picked up her dagger, stood over the dead cop and said to her horrified consorts, “Now watch.”
The air just above the dead man’s body shifted, and then darkened, until it became a translucent shadow as large as a medium-sized dog. The thing was all darkness save for two red orbs that glowed at Linares with bitter hatred.
Linares slashed it with her blade, and the shadow screeched. Blood flew into the air in a red arc. She slashed again, drawing another otherworldly screech and more blood. The demon shuddered and collapsed back onto Robert’s body. Linares stepped closer, and shifting the blade in her hand, drove it down into the evil so deeply that her fist sank into the shadow.
She withdrew her blade and backed away. Her face and clothes were spattered with blood. Again she said, “Watch.”
As her terrified consorts watched, the now still shadow faded away until only pure, clean air remained in the space it had occupied. The demon’s blood faded and vanished too, from Linares’ body and from where it had splattered around the room.
Linares slid her dagger back into its sheath and said, “Anyway, that’s how you kill a demon.”
Calvin dropped his hammer and said, “Fuck me naked. Did ya’ll see that shit?”
“Yeah,” Phillip said, “It was like a living shadow.”
Teresa said, “I feel like I’ve seen something like that before.”
“You probably have,” Linares said. “Sometimes that thing you think you see out of the corner of your eye isn’t just your imagination. Evil is among us, always seeking out the weak and impure. It’s always looking for a way in so that it can bring more suffering and misery to mankind.”
“So Robert was a punk,” Calvin said.
“You’re the punk Calvin,” Teresa snapped. “Have some respect for the dead. I would’ve bet money it was you with a demon inside you.”
Linares laughed. “Calvin’s an asshole, but he has a good heart.”
“Fuck you too, dead chick,” Calvin said. “But do me a favor: You ever see one a those shadow motherfuckers around me, stab it before it gets inside me, okay? I’d appreciate it.”
“What are we going to do about Robert’s body?” Phillip asked.
“I’ll make a call,” Linares said. “We have other people on standby to handle cleanups like this. They’ll get here pretty quickly, so we should leave and be out of their way.”
“Where are we going?” Teresa asked.
Linares said, “I vote for Dairy Queen. I’m absolutely dying for a strawberry shake.”
© August 2012
The Black
