Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Day Man
Chapter 11
Dusty lost another job, didn't feel like working for another jerk, and figured that the money he got from delivering books every day but Sundays and holidays, and the little bonuses were enough to keep him on his feet. His landlady was complaining more, but she had nothing better to do than watch her shows with her feet propped up and her hair in rollers all day. Woman never paid to get anything fixed. No reason to complain about the hours he kept because he paid his rent on time.
He went out for lunch with Klaus once or twice a week now. Klaus always insisted that he pay. His English was definitely improving. Dusty guessed it was because Godric usually spoke German to him, there had been no need for him to get better.
Staying out late also meant he got to see more of Isabel, and Godric, Rex, Stan and the others. As the weather changed, they were happy for the end of Daylight Savings time so they could do things at night at decent times, like regular people. Dusty could see that effecting someone as young looking as Godric, even if he did take Klaus along to the movies.
Stan put his bottle of Jimmy Beam in a narrow, single bottle bag and commented, "Still a bottle a day, Dusty?"
"Yeah. Nothing wrong with that."
"It's good for business, but not good for you."
"What do you care?"
"I'm not trying to start a fight, Dusty. I'm only pointing out that you might want to cut back."
"Why? Godric wants me to be more responsible?"
"Godric's got other things going on, but you know, you could get a better job with him. He can give you more to do. Pay you better."
"I'm fine," Dusty replied with a shrug.
"Think about tomorrow sometime. You won't live as long as some of us, but saving something for later can be worth it."
"Oh, like leaning on the counter of a liquor store every night it getting you places?"
"I like it here. I didn't learn to speak like this to move to New York. Bunch of crazy folk up that way."
"Lot of you up there?"
"I ain't into those kind with their art, opera and museums. If they were really sophisticated, what the hell they doing on this side of the world? At least Isabel's got a real interest in colonial Spanish art and architecture. She should live further south or west, but she'd rather work for Godric."
"Why?"
"She doesn't like to live dangerously. She's been nagging him, and he's having a house built for them. I don't know if he's really gonna live in it."
"Why not?"
"Even if it's a fortress, it's not exactly safe to draw attention to ourselves. Godric's used to going to ground too. Isabel's too fond of hot water and electric hair dryers."
"I don't mind her looking her best," Dusty mused.
Stan laughed, "You're not her type. Isabel likes the boring, overeducated, older guy. Accountants, lawyers, … basically a man who wears a suit, shined shoes, and those silly little sock suspenders. You and I aren't like that. Twit like hers'll think he's died and gone to heaven to get a woman like that. What you need is someone to keep house, not some princess who doesn't want to get her hands dirty."
"You got a girl who gets her hands dirty?"
"No, I like them vapid, yet built." Stan made a wide-handed, curving gesture to illustrate what he meant. "If it's windy, there's a whistling sound coming from their ears. Lot of them sort in Dallas. Big, white, straight teeth too. I didn't realize it till I started looking around here, what a nice smile does for a face."
"If you're working here, how do you meet them? You can't go to a bar."
"I got my secrets," Stan mysteriously replied. "It's not like I'm lookin' to keep 'em around. Some of us like someone around to keep things clean, but it's not like I need someone to cook, and with Godric's place doing that wash and fold thing, I don't need some woman to do my laundry."
"Did you have family?"
"I did, but that's not something you come right out and ask one of us. Our new life starts when we're turned, and we got to leave all that behind. Our families would realize right away there's something wrong with us, if we went back to them. When we're new, even though we don't look it, we're like children, needing to learn the new rules. And we're always hungry. Don't want to have an accident around the wife and children, where you go out of your skull with hunger and bite them. Staying close to whoever turned us into a vampire's the way it has to be. They're stronger, and they can order us to stop misbehaving."
"It's really only blood?"
"Yeah, and it's humans. I can't get blood from a cow or something else. I'm older so I don't get urges, like I used to, and don't need as much. I can't go as long as someone like Godric, but he needs to feed or he'll look off. With lighting getting better, we can't fake it as much as we could with candlelight.
"You're looking a bit off yourself, Dusty. That's why I asked if you were thinking of cutting back. It's not even winter yet. That's when I used to drink more to stay warm. You know? So what's it about, you were drinking before you knew about us, so it's not because you're scared of Godric. If you say you don't want to work for him any more, he wouldn't do anything to you."
"I don't think I'm scared of him, and he's the easiest and best-paying job I ever had."
"He'll pay you more if you do more than library books," Stan hinted.
"This is fine."
"Don't you have any ambition?"
"Not really. I got all I need, Stan."
Stan laughed and murmured, "Pretty crazy to be hanging with a shifter and vampires and thinking everything's fine."
"No, crazy is letting them fly you to the other side of the world, sending you into a jungle, and shooting everyone that looks like they could shoot from so far away they can't even see me to shoot back."
Shaking his head, Stan said, "When I was human, I fought too. Can't do too much now, with being only out at night, and I can't see the point of these fights. My country is changed, and I don't have any high ideals. If the majority of people want something, why not let them have it? Unless you're among the minority that already has it and don't want to share."
"I'm done with that saving democracy stuff."
"Democracy's changed. The United States is not even a democracy. Representatives are elected to vote for you. Even in ancient Athens, only about a tenth of the population could vote, or so Godric says."
"He probably read that somewhere."
Stan nodded. For all he knew, Godric was there. The sheriff was mysterious about where he was from, but those tattoos did not match up with what he overheard. Definitely not Greek though. Godric was an Anglo-Saxon or old English name. That was roughly from 500-1200, northern Europe, and could be used any time after that. It may not even be his name, but likely since he had a couple visitors who knew him in Europe as Godric. Stan's was recently changed to Stan Davis when he invested in businesses in Dallas. He hoped to use it for twenty or thirty years because it was a pain to have to change his name and transfer things over, if it wasn't a pile of cash, because it left a trail of legal documents.
The bell on the door rang. Stan guessed, "Not a customer."
He was right. Scruffy dude had a gun. Stan didn't waste time since Dusty knew, and commanded, "Put the gun down on the counter in front of me."
The robber did as Stan requested, and then Stan said, "Follow me." To Dusty, he said, "Be back in a couple."
"You're not gonna …?"
"I know. Sheriff doesn't like killin' so this one'll leave alive and with a new attitude towards stealing."
Dusty clarified, "Godric?"
"Yeah, he doesn't want us treating people like … uh, poorly."
He watched them go in the back, glanced out the window, eyeballed the gun on the counter, and wondered what he was supposed to do if another customer showed up.
Stan didn't keep him waiting long. The almost robber walked dazedly to the front of the store. Stan walked back into the store while putting his hat back on, and stopped by one of the refrigerated cases, taking out a six-pack of Bud. He passed his prey, bagged the six-pack, and put the gun under the counter.
Leaning on the counter, Stan named a price and the guy took out his wallet, paying for the beer. He picked up the bag and left.
"You made him buy something?" Dusty chuckled.
"I did ask him which brand he drank first," Stan replied with feigned indignation. "Didn't want him to get confused when he got home."
"You're too much. I'm gonna get going."
"Good night."
Dusty got up late the next morning, went into his little kitchen and cursed. He forgot to go to the post office again yesterday. It was just down the street from one of the library branches. Since he had a mailbox downstairs, he only got a postcard that there was a letter he had to sign for, and he had to go to them to get it. It was probably some damned, stupid notice from the government.
He went to that specific branch of the library first, then swung by the post office. They were both in the wrong direction to go to the laundromat. The library was a smaller one, but there were enough books for Dusty to pick from.
The letter he signed for was postmarked from some guy in Dallas. Dusty ripped it open. He got fired, but never did something illegal or stole from any of his jobs. What the hell? His do-nothing landlady sent him a 30 day notice to clear out … dated 28 days ago? This was bullshit.
Knocking and yelling at her apartment door when she wouldn't answer it, when he could hear the television being turned up to drown him out, accomplished something. Cops showed up and took Dusty for a ride to the police station. He hadn't done anything. What was wrong with trying to find out why he got this letter?
He was charged with disorderly conduct, which was more total bullshit. Then they put him in a cell because of some asinine accusation from his landlady that he was mentally unbalanced from the war, and she was afraid for her life.
When he unexpectedly got pulled out and told he could make a phone call, Dusty was stumped. He had friends still in the service overseas, his parents were gone, he had a cousin in Oklahoma, but why would he bother him over this nonsense? There were a couple people who's names he knew from work that he could look up, if the phone book they offered him didn't look like it doubled as toilet paper, but if one of them called Dusty, what could he do for them? Say 'tough luck, chum'? It was too early to call Stan at the liquor store, and that sort of sobered him up. Why the hell would he call the guy that owned a liquor store, even if he was a good customer? This was so ridiculous.
Using as little of his fingers and hands that he could, Dusty went to the yellow pages and called the laundromat.
He knew the woman's voice that answered in a bored tone, "Tiny Bubbles."
"This is Dusty. Can I talk to Klaus?"
"Does he need to talk back, or just listen?"
"Talk back, or wait, I'm at …" Dusty looked at the information on the wall, and told her the name of the police station. "I could use some help, but I'm not in serious trouble."
"You got into trouble at the library?"
"No, but I don't know a lot of people that are home right now in Dallas, and since I got my phone call now ..."
"You'd call your friend here?" the woman supplied, mirth barely held back. "What are you being held for?"
"Disorderly conduct. I was knocking at a door, knew someone was there, and when she didn't answer started yelling."
"And I thought you were a gentleman, Dusty," she chided.
"No, it was my landlady. She's tossing me out, even though I pay my rent on time."
"Okay. I'll explain it slow to him."
"Before you do, do you have any ideas?"
"Sit tight, Dusty. I'll write down where you are, and give it to Lee for the evening shift. I'm not sure how good your friend's skills are at solving this problem, but later, someone might come up with an idea."
"Thanks," he responded, not sure if he was going to get help, or another phone call tomorrow, if no one showed up or whatever. Dusty guessed something would have to happen in front of a judge. He knew there was some law about keeping people in jail without seeing a judge.
It was not dark yet when he got called out of the cell again, being told his lawyer was here. Since when did he have a lawyer? Or more incredible, since when did Klaus know a lawyer? Or more likely was Klaus was trying to pass himself off as a lawyer? God damn, Dusty was going to spend a long time in jail.
The fellow sitting at the table was not Klaus. Praise the Lord. He even looked lawyer-like with a suit, briefcase, and even had one of those yellow papered notepads.
"Have a seat, Dedalus."
With a frown at the use of his real name, he sat with a "Thanks."
"What were your plans earlier today?"
"After the library and post office, I thought I was going to work, but when I got that letter I signed for, I thought I better go talk to my landlady to see if there was some mistake. I always pay my rent on time. Every month on the first."
"Okay. Were you loud and disorderly when she refused to open the door?"
"I guess, I might have been because I heard her turn up the volume on the television like I wasn't even there."
"She did not tell you to desist?"
"No, she didn't yell anything to me."
"Considering this incident, are you in favor of moving out?"
"I guess, but I could'a used a bit more warning. Now I gotta find someplace."
"There's gonna be a ten day restraining order against you. Don't even say 'boo' during the time to her. Just clear out your stuff to move. Do you have a deposit that needs to be returned?"
"Yeah, I didn't damage anything."
"Okie doke. I'll see how soon I can get you out of here."
"Uh, thanks."
Dusty got led back to his shared cell, and about two hours later was told he could go. As he signed for his stuff, Dusty saw Klaus nervously sitting in one of the chairs outside where he was, wearing jeans and that blue pullover sweater from Norway. He was bouncing his leg quickly and chewing his finger.
"Hi Klaus, you got me a lawyer?"
Klaus stood and looked a bit crazy eyed. Then shook his head. Lowly, he slowly explained, "I woke Godric."
"Is that bad?"
"Ich weiss … don't know. He talk not much when sun out. Gave me phone number and …" Klaus looked at a crumpled paper from his pocket, "Dadeloose ..."
"That's the name I get arrested under."
"Not Dusty?"
"That's the name I use with friends."
Klaus nodded as he walked along beside Dusty outside.
"So I got to speak to Godric?"
"He not say. Gave me my passport so I have name papers if I need."
"You … oh, you don't drive do you?"
"Nein, I only have this. Show I German." He laughed, then said, "I see Godric now from United States. His old one could not match his age no more."
"I have to move. Do you know anyplace, or do you think I can nap on the couch in back there till I find someplace?"
"With me, not good."
"Not like that. I mean a couple days at most, maybe not even. I have till the first, or actually the day before the first."
"Not with me," Klaus repeated. "I not … I don't … I talk to Godric."
"You don't have to. Godric already did enough with giving you the lawyer's number." Dusty then looked around, then asked, "If you don't drive, how did you get here?"
"Lawyer driven me. Now I walk with you."
"I'm going home. My car's parked there so I can give you a ride back. I got books in the car for Godric from earlier."
Dusty noticed Klaus become more agitated once they got in the car. When they got to the laundromat, he looked around wildly from his seat before getting out.
"What's wrong?"
"Feel strange to be night und out with no Godric."
Lee, the constantly reading college student, let them in the back, and only Rex was there, reading a newspaper.
Klaus looked in Godric's office, and Dusty put the library books away in the drawer. "I don't know if I'll have time to go to the library tomorrow, so I'm going to leave the returns here. None are overdue, Klaus, but I'm afraid I could mix them in with my things. Okay?"
"Ja," he replied and then sat in the chair behind the desk, which Dusty considered Godric's, even though he sat in it himself when no one was here to easily access the desk drawers.
Dusty went back home, skipping the liquor store, because he wasn't sure what Stan knew. He needed boxes, and he knew he could get them from Stan, but he didn't have that much to pack. Maybe he'd ask Stan if he knew of someplace cheap to rent.
It was hard falling asleep without anything to drink so Dusty was still awake when there was a soft tapping on his door in the wee hours of the morning.
"Who's there?" he demanded.
"It is I, Dusty" was the wise-ass response, but Dusty realized it was Godric's voice.
He opened the door, and stood back.
Godric was dressed in a pressed white, button-down, shirt and dark slacks, like he was many nights.
"Am I in trouble?"
Lowly, Godric said, "It's true that we need to be invited inside."
"What?"
"I cannot cross the threshold of a human dwelling without an invitation."
"Uh, okay. Come in." Dusty got some lights turned on.
"Thank you, Dusty," Godric replied, entering.
He closed the door, and repeated, "So am I in trouble?"
"Not especially, but please do not call Klaus like that again."
"I didn't originally mean to call him, but I was stumped as to who would be home during the day."
Nodding that he heard, Godric asked, "There is only one room here?"
"Yeah, but it's big."
"Do you want to continue living here?"
"I did, but if my landlady's gonna be bitchier and go callin' the cops when I ask why I got a letter tellin' me to move out, no, I don't."
Pacing to look more closely at things, Godric suggested, "I could change her mind, if you like."
"No, I don't need more trouble."
"She'd honestly change it if I made her. No one would know except you and I."
"Oh, you mean that thing when you tell people to leave you alone or forget they saw you?"
"Yes," Godric replied, looking at full can of empty bottles. Dusty did not bother taking his trash out regularly.
"That's all right to keep you a secret, but I'm normal. I can move."
"I am abnormal?"
"That's not what I meant, just that I understand why vampires need to stay a secret, if you aren't hurting anyone."
"Does it hurt anyone for you to continue to live here?"
"You're probably right, but now that I have something with the police over this, it would make sense for me to move."
"Very well. I will not tamper with your landlady more than necessary to extricate you from legal trouble."
"Huh?"
"She will be unharmed, and her memories will be unaltered. I'll even leave her attitude towards you unchanged, if I can."
"Okay," Dusty slowly agreed. "How'd you know where I lived?"
"Isabel knew your address."
"Do you usually visit people in the middle of the night?"
"You were awake," Godric responded.
"How did you know?"
"My hearing is quite good."