Drawn By The Waterfall

Jeremiah sat in his study, alone, without any music. He had a collection, but he had not listened to it in years. Drawn by the waterfall, he looked at his mantle. The framed photograph depicted him by a waterfall. His past self, his beard less gray than it was in the present, standing on the far-left side of the photo. His wife stood on the far-right side. There was so much space between them. He knew what was between them…

His lumbar region ached as he slowly lifted himself out of the aged recliner, which had stuffing protruding out of a few corners. Jeremiah dawdled over to the bookshelf. Closing his eyes, he ran his fingers across the spines, hoping that he would find what he wanted. It was a bumpy ride for the fingertips, but then there was a dip into empty space: the little black book was missing.

Not again, he thought.

The black notebook was everything to him, and he needed it now more than ever.

In a mansion, Brandon Litenbower, heir to the fortune gained by Litenbower Vineyards, was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was the one-year anniversary. He remembered the words very clearly as he opened the door to answer to the stranger late one evening…

“Hi there! My name is John, from Solleret Cable. Are you happy with your cable company?”

“‘Happy’ would be an exaggeration.”

“How much are you being charged?”

“About eighty per month.”

“Are you happy with that?”

“Not particularly.”

“Because we offer fifty per month. How fast is your internet?”

“Look, right now is not the time.”

“Pardon?”

“I just had my coffee and nothing else, and I’m full of so much anxiety right now, and I just cannot talk to anyone right now. I can’t even remember how fast they said the internet is.”

“Well, it should say on the router. May I come in and take a look?”

“All right. Fine.”

The open door, and then the ravenous eyes. Fangs on display and the vampire pouncing away, pinning Brandon to the floor. A punch in the face, offering Brandon the chance to escape. A roll away, and then a sprint to the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, the sight of salvation: a wooden stake, a gag gift from a birthday party. Another pounce at Brandon, and then a stab in John’s heart. A lucky shot, followed by dust…

Brandon remembered the intimacy of the kill. And it made him uncomfortable how powerful he had felt, even if it was an act that rid the world of a parasite. He did not go out very often, aware of the possibility that anyone else could be a vampire.

He flinched when he felt something appear in his hand. Rolling out of bed, he saw it drop onto the floor. A closer inspection revealed it to be a little black book. Cautiously, he flipped it open. On one of the pages, he saw a detailed and colored drawing of an older man and an older woman, accompanied by a younger man and a younger woman between them in front of a waterfall.

A family?

He flipped through the pages and glimpsed a passage that caught his eye.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day when my own children became enemies of the Sun. They’ve even disappeared from the pictures we took long before the transformation. This family is cursed…”

Brandon surmised that the young people in the photo, the children of the older people, were vampires. He looked at the first page after the cover, which listed an address to take the notebook to if found.

They can’t be allowed to continue, he thought…

Brandon knew from previous searches on the internet that there was someone who could do all the dirty work for him. He would not have to get too close to the vampires and get sick, either from turning into one of them or from feeling the disgusting satisfaction of ending them. He made a call, and The Contact had a price.

He drove over to the bank and withdrew $20,000 in cash. The Contact only accepted cash. Once he got the money, he tied it all up with a rubber band and put the wad in the pocket of his windbreaker.

Still under afternoon light, he drove to the beach so that he could rendezvous with The Contact. Once there, he had to hike up a trail from the shore alongside the cliffs. After a half-hour hike, he stopped to admire the continental shelf.

And then he was pulled backward into a giant crack between two boulders. He felt fingernails against his throat.

“How desperate are you?” she said.

Brandon recalled the password.

“Itching.”

She loosened her grip and let him turn around to see The Contact in full view. She had a holster on her hip, though it was too dark for him to identify the weapon.

“Show me the targets.”

Brandon opened the notebook to the page with the picture.

“The young ones.”

“Do you care if anyone else gets caught in the crossfire?”

“I’d prefer not. The older ones are more human than they are. But if they help them…it’s all fair game.”

“I don’t believe in the supernatural,” she said. “But, if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll finish them off with stakes.”

“Yes. Otherwise, the agreement will be null. And I know you keep to your word.”

“Have you kept to yours?”

Brandon nodded. He zipped open his windbreaker pocket and reached inside.

He felt nothing.

Other pocket, he reasoned to himself.

He zipped open the other one, dug around, and was only able to retrieve a rubber band.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “I had the money!”

“No money, no deal.”

“I’m good for it, though! Do you know who I am? I own Litenbower Vineyards!”

“Yeah. The talk of the snobbiest posterior smoochers at parties. Go ahead and whine about it.”

“You think you’re the first one to tell me that?”

“Nope.” She pointed her gun at him with a smile. “But I can be the last.”

“I, uh… Uh…”

“Either pay up front or scram before my barrel sneezes solids.”

Brandon backed away and sped up his hike back to his car.

I’ll do it myself! he submitted.

Alanna, a college student, was walking the dog of her client Jeremiah, who was elderly and did not have the strength or energy to walk the Siberian Huskey, whom he had named Janice. The Huskey enjoyed interacting with other dogs at the park, where Alanna was sure to let Janice run across the grass. She ran alongside her as they chased an imaginary target. Seeing the magnificent animal enjoy the fresh air was one of the few things that made Alanna smile these days.

When their session at the park was finished, Alanna brought Janice back to Jeremiah’s house.

“Thank you again,” Jeremiah said, handing Alanna her payment. “She looks like she had a lot of fun.”

“She did,” Alanna said. “Same time next week?”

“That’s the only time you’re free, right?”

“Pretty much. Too many credits to work for this quarter.”

“Of course. Same time next week is fine.”

Jeremiah rarely smiled, but Alanna caught a hint of one before he closed the door fully.

Alanna returned to her apartment, where she found her father cooking.

“More chicken soup?” Alanna said.

“Leftovers,” her dad said.

“We’ve had it for three days.”

“I spiced it up a bit. We’re trying to make the most of everything.”

“Mom not back from work yet?”

“She decided to take a later shift.”

“Well, I’m sure I can give you two a little something that’ll help for a little while.”

“Oh that’s not necessary…”

Alanna reached into the pocket of her jeans. Next to her wallet, she felt a wad of cash. She pulled it out, eyes and mouth wide open.

“Wow,” her dad uttered. “Did Jeremiah pay extra?”

“This is not what he gave me. I don’t know where this came from. I’m gonna have to talk to him.”

In the late afternoon, Brandon drove over to the address listed in the notebook. He took the stake out of the glove compartment. He held it in one hand and the notebook in the other. Every beat of his heart felt like a knock on his own door, startling him. When he got up to the door of the house, he hesitated as his fist got closer to the door. Then he urged himself to rip off the adhesive strip; he knocked.

The man inside, who looked older than the drawing in the notebook, answered.

“Can I help you?”

Brandon shoved him, and the old man collapsed on the floor.

What am I doing? he asked himself, acting before thinking.

Brandon ran inside and searched the house, checking each room for the presence of vampires. He checked the kitchen, but there was nobody. Then he checked a bedroom. Looking under the bed, he saw a face with sharp teeth. It jumped at him, and he was sure that he had been bitten and infected. He got out from under the bed. Ready to embrace the thrill of the kill, he pointed the stake outward, ready to use it on his attacker and then himself.

But then he noticed that it was a Siberian Huskey.

Shutting the door behind himself, Brandon ran back into the living room, where the old man was still struggling to get back up.

“Where are they?!”

“You’ll never find them; they’re long gone.”

Brandon felt an elbow against his upper back, and it was enough momentum to make him fall face-flat on the floor. He dropped the stake and the notebook. He turned his face to see a young woman looking down on him.

“Respect…” she breathed, “your elders!”

The young woman picked up the notebook, kicked the stake away, and helped up the old man.

The authorities whom Alanna had called as soon as she had arrived and seen Jeremiah on the floor arrived a short time later, taking Brandon Litenbower away. Once they were gone, Alanna confronted Jeremiah.

“So. He thought there were vampires here.”

“He did.”

“Why would he think that?”

Jeremiah looked at her hands, the little black notebook gripped tightly by them. She wanted to open it and see what was inside. The door was still wide open.

Instead, she handed it over to Jeremiah.

“Thank you,” he said. He exhaled. “My daughter, and my son…” Each word that he spoke was weak and tired. “I was taking care of them when they were sick. Their mother went looking for a cure. She’s still looking. But…our kids decided it’d be best to relieve our burdens if they were…gone, where we can’t reach them. But my wife is still out there, hoping to help anyone else who might have this disease. Sure, some of them are bad. But my kids? They never hurt anyone.”

Alanna did not dare ask whether his son and daughter were dead or whether they decided to hide in some secret faraway place. Jeremiah continued.

“The notebook is special. It rewards those with good intentions, but at the cost of taking from those who are driven by terrible obsessions. It’s a cycle, I guess.”

Alanna took the $20,000 out of her pocket.

“You didn’t give this to me,” she surmised. “The notebook did.”

“It’s a strange thing,” Jeremiah said with a nod.

Alanna put the money back in her pocket. She had so many questions, but she refrained from prying.

“I’m still willing to come back next week,” she said instead.

Jeremiah smiled.

“Janice would like that,” he said.

Putting the cash back in her pocket. She felt confused, but also somewhat relieved in terms of financial matters, even if not so long term. She walked out the door, and then took one last glance at the father forever longing for his family.

“Have a good night.”