Hey faithful readers! I'm sorry for deserting you, but writing just seemed like a lot of work. Still does, but I need to keep going. Senioritis is amazing yet unhelpful. Oh well. 26 days till I'm free!
I only know that it's night by the brightest twinkling stars in the sky. The city street is filled with flashing lights and music and beautiful pictures. People mind their own business as they push and shove down the crowded sidewalks, sometimes chatting away with others, many yelling at passing taxi cabs.
The beauty of it all is overwhelming, but I have all night to explore each inviting shop and dance hall. If I want, I could have forever here to explore! I can imagine myself here for decades, shopping and being almost human.
I stop at the corner of 5th and Madison and turn to my left. A huge poster of a fashion model stares blankly at me, and a small sign underneath shows me my future. Under Style Magazine are two simple words, calling my name: Designers Needed.
"So is this where the roster leaves his chick?" sighs Frankie, his crimson eyes looking down, his hat in his hands.
"'Fraid so, Scat-Cat," I laugh. "I think I've just discovered why I'm here. Maybe Jasper will come my way soon. I think the family might come east later. I see glimpses of bear attacks and riches and city lights, and then I see the family in-between."
"Just don't be noticed for the truth. That's what always destroys the Southern Wars."
Frankie puts his hat back on and nods politely before strolling down the street, flirting with three women at once.
The dark sky grows lighter, and the city lights become trees and little shops as my vision fades into Newburg, New York.
"…And I'll tell you, life was so much easier then! I mean, no body knew much, and what wasn't in the Bible didn't exist. Vampires? Oh no! Those where sinner's tells, the Devil writing false truths in peoples heads. We could roam around and nearly be ourselves. Well, of course, the preachers were a pain in the ass- pardon my French, toots- now, what was I saying? Well, it doesn't really matter."
Was Frankie still talking? Didn't he ever shut up? For the past five hours I'd heard all about his transformation and his creator and the latest movie he'd seen and this one girl from Russia he'd had a fling with for about a week or so. By then I started watching others in my head non-stop. Apparently, he hadn't noticed.
"Twilight," he sighed. "I think it's safe enough for us to start up the Model-T one last time. We'll reach New York, New York too soon. You'll find whatever it is that you're looking for before real nightfall."
"Good! I mean, it'll be good to see why I'm going there. I won't find my creator, but I just saw myself putting all my drawings to good use. What do you think about vampires and jobs?"
Frankie had heard some pretty out-of-this-world things from me and my ignorance, but this was the icing on the cake now. He fell off the bed in the hotel we were staying in and rolled on his back. His high pitched laughter went on and on until he remembered that I was usually serious with him.
"Oh your horses, Alice. You're dead serious, aren't you? You want to work with humans? Making your drawings the real thing? Honey, even if you can stick to your crazy diet, you'll never live among humans without taking a few bites every now and then. Alice, honey, sweetie, toots, you can't do that." I glared at him for a long time. No one told me what I could and couldn't do. "You won't listen to me. Fine. Make your mistakes now, so you can have a long, happy eternity soon."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my sketch book and pencils and ran out the door faster than I should have. I didn't care about what the women were whispering about as I passed by them nearly in a blur.
"Oh my God! Ghost or Olympic runner?"
"Maybe steroids do work?"
I curled up under a large tree, the only tree on the block, and opened my book to a clean page. I let my mind rewind and go its own way, looking for something to draw. I remembered the barn where I'd found my first things, the ashes of wherever I'd woke up, the vampires from St. Louis, an unfamiliar house with a tree leading up to a second-story window, a pretty girl with cute blonde curls, and a handsome man with rich brown hair. There was something so… I couldn't describe it.
Immediately, my hand started sketching his sharp face. His rich, chocolate brown hair was neatly scattered everywhere, a few strands covering his beautiful brown eyes. In his left hand he held a magnolia and an engagement ring. He was dressed in a kaki uniform and hat. He wore no medals or pins, only a thin, black name tag that was burnt beyond legibility. Though I didn't seen it in my head, I couldn't help drawing a burning plane behind him. A burning American flag blew in the wind from the plane's tail. Above, a German plane soared, waving its banner proudly. And regardless of the tragedy behind him, the young private smile casually, like he was thinking of his favorite memory.
I couldn't understand it, but something hard choke me, like I'd swallowed a hard ball and it stayed stuck in my throat. My eyes burned, but no tears came. My hands shook as I tenderly stroked the man's cheek.
"Willy?" I whispered.
It all hit me. I didn't know him or why I saw him, but his story was right in front of me. He was an aviator who died in the Great War by a German plane. He died thinking about his fiancé back home. I just wished I knew who she was. She was lucky to have such a handsome man.
"All our stuff is packed, and I've checked out. Ready to go one last time?" Frankie asked from the car.
I gathered my things and joined him for the very last time.
We didn't talk for the thirty minute drive. Frankie hummed jazz and classical tunes while I watched Newburg become the thriving metropolis I'd only dreamed of. Lights covered every part of the city, and crowds and crowds of people pushed and shoved against each other as they all tried to make it through the streets. Horse-drawn carriages and a few taxis went up and down the never-ending streets, and music blared from every spot possible. It was a vampire's heaven. It really was the City That Never Sleeps!
We parked beside the police station- Frankie loved irony maybe a bit too much- and we unpacked our bags. I threw mine across my body and waited for Frankie to throw what he no longer needed in random cars and buggies. Then we set off together towards 5th and Madison.
Everything was just like the vision, yet so much better in real life! The sky above was a dark grey, revealing only the brightest stars in the sky. Tall skyscrapers pierced the horizon, their lights acting as New York's starry night. Towers showed clocks and chimed every half hour, but I saw man after man after man take out his pocket watch just minutes after the rattling chimes sang their timely song. The rush of people here seemed to notice nothing like the poor beggars asking for a slice of bread or cup of water; however, every New Yorker saw the taxis and bicycle boys speeding down the streets and sidewalks. A few were brave enough to stop a service to ask about themselves. "Do you have anything for me, Wilma Manchurin? Are you sure? Check again." "How much to take me to Broadway?"
"'That's a Good Time' by Benny Goodman. Come on, baby, we'll never dance again," Frankie laughed as we passed a night club with its doors open.
"If you insist," I laughed.
He swung me in closer to him, and we danced and fought our way through the passing crowds until the rocking scene of the nightclub were all we could see.
Benny Goodman himself was there on clarinet having the best time. Behind him a large orchestra jammed out to the music. On the dance floor, couples were spinning and jiving to the upbeats. The women here were more my type: flappers! Almost all had real short hair like me and countless necklaces swinging around their skinny necks. Their short, flashy dresses shook as they danced. The men did hat tricks while their women showed off. In a heartbeat, Frankie and I were in the middle, dancing better than the others.
We danced song after song, always showing off to the other couples on the floor, and by the tenth song, I was already beginning to miss Frankie. Sure he was annoying and never knew when to shut up, but he loved having a great time as much as I did. After he left, would I ever meet someone that could dance like him? No. Good or bad, there'd never be another Frankie.
He twirled me around one last time and pecked my head. He smiled sadly, and we slowly walked away from the nightclub. To those outside the know, we probably looked like the perfect couple, but as long as Frankie and I knew what was really going on, it didn't matter that most of those sitting at the back tables, our audience, stared, mouths wide open, eyes shifting from us to their friends.
Back outside we continued for another mile, this time telling jokes and making bets.
"Look at that blonde there," Frankie whispered in my ear. "Betcha a quarter she lets that bastard have it within the next thirty seconds. I mean the whole punching and screaming and all that jazz."
"I'll take that bet. She'll run off, and he'll punch his friend. See? And… that's a quarter."
He grumbled a few choice words as he turned his pockets inside out.
"You took my last penny! Damn, why do I even bother betting against you?"
I laughed.
"Good question. I think it's because you have no need for money, and you want to give it all to me! You owe me a quarter next time I see you. I'll remember," I promised.
"Yeah, right."
"I'm a vampire."
"So you say. Yeah, you are. You know, you've really learned to accept that now. Sure, you won't act like one, but you can calmly tell me the truth now, and you're very open with your visions. Why the one-eighty? I don't deserve your trust."
"Carlisle, from the family I keep seeing, keeps telling his 'son' and 'wife' that he's just making the most of what he has been given. Jasper is doing the same, or trying. I'll be like them all."
"Son? Wife? Family? Whatever happened to you before scrambled your little brain." He shook his head in disgust and disbelief. "You know, our kind don't usually get married, but we do have mates. Don't think that it's all save-the-humans or be-ugly-monsters."
"OK."
We stopped at the corner of 5th and Madison, and, responding to my vision, I turned left. Taking up the entire window was a picture of a pretty girl with short red hair and an evil glare. She wore a royal purple beret and a matching flapper dress. The dress itself has covered with a glitter and black tassels around the bottom. To complete the outfit she wore long black gloves and a matching clutch purse. Her black, strapy heels pulled it all together.
It was like so many of the designs I'd come up with. I wanted to draw more things for people to wear. I wanted to live in New York for years, decades, maybe centuries. I loved the fast pace and excitement, the fashion, the music. I could. The sign was under the picture just like I'd predicted.
"So this is where the rooster leaves the chick?"
"'Fraid so, Scat-Cat. I think I've just discovered why I'm here. Maybe Jasper will come my way soon. I think the family might come east later. I see glimpses of bear attacks and riches and city lights, and then I see the family in-between."
"Just don't be noticed for the truth. That's what always destroys the Southern Wars."
He smiles one last time and walks away, immediately flirting with three girls at once. That player.
I take a deep breath and walk into the magazine building to ask for a job.
Ch. 10: She's Found Her Purpose.
