Chapter Six – Unexpected
"Cure you?" I echoed in complete disbelief. "Cure what? Of being a vampire?" It was the only thing remotely like an affliction that he might be said to suffer.
Edward raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. "That is exactly what he thinks, but like I said, his thoughts are very haphazard and difficult to read."
"He's crazy then?" I asked with a deadpan expression, then with more concern, "Is he dangerous?"
"Uh, no. At least, I don't think so. He's in the kitchen. Shall we?"
I half wished that Edward had asked me to wait upstairs but, to be fair, if he had, I probably would have insisted on going with him. I could be contrary like that. I held Edward's hand tightly and we made our way down the grand staircase and into the vast, open kitchen.
The man turned instantly at our entrance. He was old; or maybe it was just the snow white Albert Einstein-like hair that made him look really old – I wasn't sure. He was slight and skinny to the point of looking undernourished. He wore silver-rimmed circular spectacles and his left arm was gnarled and deformed, almost like something with a really big mouth had bitten a huge chunk out of it. I shrunk closer to Edward who was, I noticed, staring at the man with a perplexed expression fixed on his face. This was not a good sign.
"You!" The strange man exclaimed "You! You, you- you're one of them. I've found you." It looked like he was about to cry. "You're the one," he said in barely a whisper then suddenly shouted, "Would have killed me already if you weren't." Then he started laughing in a way that sounded more like a strange clucking sound. It was quite maniacal. "Would've killed me already," he repeated as if confiding a huge secret to us.
"What can we do for you?" Edward asked politely.
"Ha!" The man exclaimed suddenly, "It's not what you can do for me! It's what I can do for you!"
"Go on," Edward requested coolly. The puzzled expression was gone. Edward was back to being calm and self-assured. I suspected that he had worked out what was going on in this man's head. I wished I could.
"You're a vampire!" he began clicking and clucking fanatically again. Suddenly he stepped close to me and said, right into my face "Did-ya hear me! He's a vampire. Did he tell you that little girly? That there's a vampire!"
Edward stepped between me and the man and said brusquely, "Kindly stay away from my wife. What makes you think I am as you say?"
"Oh I know. Vampire stench! I know it like I know the back of my own hand."
Stench, what stench? I wondered to myself. Edward didn't stink. He smelt wonderful.
"Don't try to flummox me boy," the man said with sudden clarity but then just as swiftly recommenced that creepy chuckling. He pointed at me, "Little snack there would be a little snack if you weren't one of them."
"Them?" Edward asked quietly.
"One who doesn't eat human flesh, human blood. No blood." Suddenly the man dropped to his knees as if exhausted. "I've been looking for you for so long. So long and I've finally found you." This time he did start to cry loud sobbing tears that spoke of joy and relief after a lifetime of frustration. "I've found you. I've found you." He muttered the words over and over to himself.
Edward looked disoriented again. I went to the fridge and got him a glass of cold water and a paper towel for him to wipe his streaming eyes with. I touched his back to alert him to the simple offerings. He looked up and was grateful.
"Thankyou lass," he said as he took the drink.
I smiled at him and looked at Edward with concern. I hoped he had some idea of what we should do with our strange visitor, because I had none.
"Friend, please sit, tell us why you've sought me out," Edward said his most cajoling accent on display. The man suddenly seemed frailer than he had on initial encounter, if that was possible. Edward helped him up and ushered him through to the lounge and sat him in a comfy armchair. He drank his water and mopped his eyes and brow.
"Tell us your story," Edward encouraged as we sat opposite him on the couch.
"That might be easiest," The man conceded, "Then you'll understand."
I wondered how much of the narrative was for my benefit only. How much did Edward already understand the man's purpose in coming here? Maybe some of the details were still clouded for him too. Perhaps…
The old man began his story.
"Nearly half a century ago I was bitten by a beast in the shape of a man. I tried to fight him off but he managed to bite me on my forearm. His attack was interrupted by a gang of rowdy dockworkers so the fiend didn't get to finish me off; he took off fearful of detection I suppose. The creature left me alive but with a burning agony stemming from the site of the wound that it's teeth had left. It burned like fire in my veins, on the skin, in my flesh. It was unendurable. My only thought was to stop the pain. As luck would have it, there was a discarded bottle lying nearby and the pain was such that it drove me to smash the bottle and use a shard of glass cut out the burning flesh. It was a relief, the pain from chopping into my own limb preferable to that burning agony of the bite. I kept chopping until no hint of fire remained. The adrenaline allowed me to remain conscious long enough to finish the job and roughly bind the wound. I regained consciousness some time later, and this is the important bit, before I sought medical attention for my mutilated arm I sealed the lumps of my flesh in a specimen jar. That's right I kept them! I stored the away for safe keeping!"
I had no idea as to the possible significance of this rather gross piece of information was. But Edward obviously did. His eyes shone with understanding. Obviously this has cleared up some of his clouds and it all made perfect sense to him.
"Care to share?" I asked in a sideways mutter as the man finished his water. Edward replied in a low murmur, "No, you have to hear the whole thing. I don't think I've got everything straight as yet. His mind is very…chaotic." Then to our visitor, "You were saying?"
"Yes, yes! Where was I? Oh yes… You see, back in those days I was a scientist, a biologist in fact working in the field of medical research. I was attacked on my way home from work; I had my field kit with me. It was entirely natural, instinctive even, for me to keep the evidence of this bizarre incident in order to see if I could find the answer to the question of what bit me. Once I'd healed," he held up his mangled arm for effect, "which took longer than I ever expected, I returned to my field kit, sure that there'd be nothing left of the specimens other than rancid flesh. But to my utter amazement I was stunned to find that the meat had transformed into something akin to rock. I was wholly intrigued. My scientific brain had been engaged. I had to know what it was that had bitten me, what kind of substance could cause such a conversion. I ground minute samples from the specimen, always conscious that I only had a limited amount to work with and I began to investigate. I was able to isolate the substance that caused the transformation; it was the same chemical structure as the venom produced by the few mammals that have made the genetic adaptation, or rather, it would be more accurate to say, the few mammals which have retained the ability to produce venom. The fossil records show that in early pre-historic times venom was a much more common part of the mammalian artillery; but it is slow working and in general, is not an efficient method of catching large prey and so, over time it was relegated to naught but a strange anomaly in the world of mammals.
I was perplexed. What kind of man could cause a bite that burns like the fires of Hades? What kind of man is venomous? I became obsessed with finding out exactly what had bitten me. Soon I was caught up in a world of myth and legend, sifting through fictions looking for grains of truth, leads to follow. My quest became the obsession around which my life revolved. Stories and tribal lore led me to fantastical conclusions that were too unbelievable for a sane person to believe. No one believed me. No one could accept that walking amongst us humans were creatures which need to feed off us. Vampires we call them, bloodsuckers. But elsewhere they are known by many other names the Romanian Strigoi, Vrykolakas in Greece, the Chupacabra of central America and the Chinese Jiang Shi to name but a few. Every culture has a variation of the story. I came to believe the truth behind the legends. Yet, at the same time my scientific mind was challenged. I was a scientist; my work had been instrumental in the development of many antivenins for the most poisonous arachnid and reptilian bites. I was arrogant enough to believe that I could beat this one too. It became my mission in life."
I looked at Edward. Did he believe this man's far-fetched tale? Maybe it was his demented appearance but I couldn't believe that this man had succeeded in his ambition. But then, I had to consider the fact that I knew the feeling of that burning pain; I remembered it all too well and could readily believe that it could drive a person to such a drastic reaction. He continued his story.
"The price was high. It cost me everything. My wife lost patience and took my children away, my career ceased to matter, my reputation, my sanity; both gone but I didn't care. For nearly three decades I worked on the conundrum, chipping away at my precious sample, knowing that I was running against the clock. Finally I thought I had a substance that would work. I had has success with preliminary trials; my compound had the power to transform my petrified flesh back into fresh meat. It was, nothing short of incredible. My next desire was for a vampire subject willing to test the formula and here is where I reached an impasse; what vampire would want the cure? The vampire who had attacked me and left me for dead reveled in his blood lust, what possible use would one such as he have for my cure?
"I was demoralised. What was the point? I'd given up everything, my whole life in pursuit of a conceited dream – to solve a puzzle purely because I could! But to what end? Was it all to flatter my own academic vanity? A lifetime of chasing windmills; truly it would have been better if the creature had killed me. Death would have been preferable to the ruination I'd made of my life. In my despair I raged against my life's work. I threw my copious notes, my scientific observations to the floor intent on burning the lot and throwing myself on the pyre. I was halted in my tracks by two words that appeared in one of my volumes; Stregoni Benefici."
Both Edward and the man whispered the words at exactly the same time. The man heard Edward's words and nodded with surety.
"Yes. I had a new outlet for my obsession. I spent the last of my savings travelling the world, England, Italy, Canada, America, searching for clues, following the trail of rumour and legend, dissecting tribal belief and memories that survive from one generation to the next as to the whereabouts of this legendary vampire. The leads took me nowhere; dead-ends mostly – until I heard a whisper of this island. A paradise inhabited by the eternally youthful, the de la Isla Jóvenes Eternamente.
"I had reached the end of my journey. I had little money, no home, and nowhere left to go. I came here with my few belongings, my research and my precious samples and even though the island was uninhabited I thought I could do worse than spend my last days in paradise waiting. For if Fate had any sympathy for a pathetic old fool she would ensure that Stregoni Benefici would come to me one day."
He started to cry again. I'm sure they were tears of relief.
"I'm not Stregoni Benefici," Edward said gently. "But he is my father, vampiricly speaking."
The man looked confused. He looked at Edward, then to me and then back to Edward. "But…but. No, the legends call him golden," he mumbled to himself. Edward and I exchanged glances. Suddenly the man became animated again. "No! Not Stregoni Benefici, but you are like him! You are one of them – you have the golden eyes, you don't drink human blood!"
"No, I don't."
"And you're with this human girl!"
"This is Bella, my wife. I am Edward Cullen. Carlisle Cullen is the one you know as Stregoni Benefici. He is the head of our family."
"But don't you see Mr. Cullen, destiny has bought us together. Fate did not abandon me! It is you that I've been sent to help. Your wife is human. I can make you human too!"
By now I firmly believed that our visitor was completely crazy; too many years spent living in isolation with no companionship of any kind would surely send even the sanest mind around the twist. Edward must have wondered as much too because he suddenly asked, "How long have you been here on the island Mr—?"
The man didn't give his name but did answer the question very definitely.
"I arrived her on the Seventeenth of January, not quite two years ago sir."
The date he named caused me to gasp audibly. Edward looked at me sharply, an unasked question plainly visible in his expression.
"It's nothing really. It's just that… that was the exact same day I arrived in Forks."
The man's eyes snapped to mine. "Ahhh," he said with uncanny conviction "Our paths have been running parallel for some time and now they dissect. It is all meant to be."