Chapter 7: Meeting
"It's all been done...before."
-Barenaked Ladies, It's All Been Done
Evanston was not terribly far from home in Lake Bluff. About 45 minutes by train, or 30 minutes almost straight down Illinois route 41.
The night before, I had received an affirmitive reply to the time and location of my meeting from Watcher723@yahoo.com. So I was on my way to keep my two o'clock appointment, and get lunch at the same time. I parked at my usual garage at the end of the street, near the train station.
Church street was rather busy, as was usual for a downtown Evanston Saturday. I snagged some money out of my pocket, as I headed in the McDonalds. It was 1:50 as I got in line. Ordering a #9 (Filet of Fish Sandwich, Fries, and Medium Coke - No Ice), I sat down near the front windows at just before 2 O'clock.
2:05 came and went. My contact was late. At 2:10 I began to get nervous, not to mention, I was about done with my food.
People had been walking in and out, and I had cease to pay attention to them.
I was snapped back to reality, by a middle aged man with brown hair and eyes, wearing a pair of spectacles and what was an undoubtedly tweed jacket.
"That's an interesting combination of unicorn jewelry and shirt," he said.
"It's a Ki-Rin," I replied, dryly.
"Actually, a Ki-Rin looks more like a deer, and has no mane. I suppose the pendant may be a Ki-Rin, but your shirt is definitely a unicorn. You are 'TheZorker', correct?"
"I am. You can call me John. You're the Watcher on Yahoo?"
"Yes, my name is Giles. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm sufficiently hungry enough to even try this American 'grub'."
Well, I had heard McDs called worse things then that. More noticeable was his slight British accent. I was trying to place it while he stood in lines. It wasn't Yorkshire, not Cornwall. Maybe London, or Cambridge. I looked up at him as he sat down.
"You're British?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I used to live there, while my dad was in the Navy. I lived just outside of London, little place called Rickmansworth."
"Ah," He glances at his grilled chicken, as if expecting it to get up again. Selecting a french fry, he begins to eat.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. I longed for Winamp, but he was more interested in studying me.
"Unicorns are such interesting things. One of the few supernatural creatures that are dedicated to actual goodness. It's a shame their almost extinct."
OK, this guy was probably nuts. On the other hand, if Vampires really existed, why not Unicorns? "This is actually an affiliation with a game," I started, "The Unicorn clan of Legend of the Five Rings."
"Oh," he said, in the traditional non-geek way saying he didn't understand and didn't care to. A bit more of a pause followed. "I make a history of studying the supernatural, you see. I'm curious to know what made you claim this darkness exist, and what this light you found is."
"So you believe in vampires, then?"
"Yes, I've seen several. Generally stop them with a stake through the heart, though a crossbow bolt serves in a pinch. Holy water will do it, to, but that works best if its ingested. Normally, vampires are smarter about that kind of thing."
"And those that fight them?" I asked, cautiously.
The man, I realized I still didn't know his name, looked at me hard. "Those that fight them. There's a legend that states that in every generation, there will be one born with the strength and courage to fight vampires, and halt the spread of the numbers.
"The vampire slayer," I said, reflecting it into the words of Capone, who claimed to feel 'Slayer' in Chicago.
"Yes, the vampire slayer," I felt his eyes boring into me. He continued, "I have reason to suspect, though, that there is more than one. They are awakening all over the world. I read the same article that you did, about one in Baltimore that was not found in time. Do you think you have found one?"
I dropped my eyes to my cooling fish, taking a bite. "Who are you? Why should I trust you? I've seen dark things these last few days."
His voice softened, "While there was only one slayer, there were those called Watchers that were supposed to find those that could become the slayer. Most of them are now dead, killed by a force I will not name here. I am Rupert Giles, commonly called Giles. I am one of the last of the Watchers."
I have always been keen to nuances of wordplay, probably all the card games I played. "You said was and were. You suspect they awake, or you know?"
He looked at me, now aware of his slip, "I know. Have you found one of the newly awakened?"
I thought it over. Take the chance he was not on my side, or go for it? I finished off my fish, picking at my now cold fries. I chose my words carefully, "I think so. This person claims to have had dreams of fighting vampires. This person, along with a friend, and myself, has turned three to dust."
"She has had dreams, had she?" he mused to himself.
I started. I had not told him anything about this person, yet he all ready assumed it was a female, "I said the person had dreams, and you refer to a she?" I asked.
"It was always a female, I knew no reason it would change."
I stopped picking at my fries. There was a lot he wasn't telling me. We had come to a point of mutual distrust, it seemed.
"I want to meet her," he said, finally.
"I'm not sure that's my decision to make. She not yet in junior high, and she has parents. She had her reservations about me meeting you in the first place." That was a lie. She wanted anyone possible to shed light on her dreams. Baseball took a higher priority, however.
"We've lost one in Baltimore," he reminded me. "Do you want to risk your friend dying?"
I didn't want to risk *anyone* dying. Life was precious to me. But either way, I was taking a risk...
"Very well. I suppose I'll just have to chance it. My name is John," I said, holding my hand out.
He took it, and shook it.
"I, suppose you have a car? I am staying in Evanston, and took the elevated train from Midway."
"I do," I said, as we disposed of our garbage, making our way down to the parking garage.
"Why were you late?" I asked suddenly.
"The Northwestern Library is right next store. They have this *marvelous* occult section," he said in all seriousness.
Giles eyes widened in shock at the music coming from my car, but said nothing audible.
I just wish either of us had known we were being followed.
"It's all been done...before."
-Barenaked Ladies, It's All Been Done
Evanston was not terribly far from home in Lake Bluff. About 45 minutes by train, or 30 minutes almost straight down Illinois route 41.
The night before, I had received an affirmitive reply to the time and location of my meeting from Watcher723@yahoo.com. So I was on my way to keep my two o'clock appointment, and get lunch at the same time. I parked at my usual garage at the end of the street, near the train station.
Church street was rather busy, as was usual for a downtown Evanston Saturday. I snagged some money out of my pocket, as I headed in the McDonalds. It was 1:50 as I got in line. Ordering a #9 (Filet of Fish Sandwich, Fries, and Medium Coke - No Ice), I sat down near the front windows at just before 2 O'clock.
2:05 came and went. My contact was late. At 2:10 I began to get nervous, not to mention, I was about done with my food.
People had been walking in and out, and I had cease to pay attention to them.
I was snapped back to reality, by a middle aged man with brown hair and eyes, wearing a pair of spectacles and what was an undoubtedly tweed jacket.
"That's an interesting combination of unicorn jewelry and shirt," he said.
"It's a Ki-Rin," I replied, dryly.
"Actually, a Ki-Rin looks more like a deer, and has no mane. I suppose the pendant may be a Ki-Rin, but your shirt is definitely a unicorn. You are 'TheZorker', correct?"
"I am. You can call me John. You're the Watcher on Yahoo?"
"Yes, my name is Giles. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm sufficiently hungry enough to even try this American 'grub'."
Well, I had heard McDs called worse things then that. More noticeable was his slight British accent. I was trying to place it while he stood in lines. It wasn't Yorkshire, not Cornwall. Maybe London, or Cambridge. I looked up at him as he sat down.
"You're British?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I used to live there, while my dad was in the Navy. I lived just outside of London, little place called Rickmansworth."
"Ah," He glances at his grilled chicken, as if expecting it to get up again. Selecting a french fry, he begins to eat.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. I longed for Winamp, but he was more interested in studying me.
"Unicorns are such interesting things. One of the few supernatural creatures that are dedicated to actual goodness. It's a shame their almost extinct."
OK, this guy was probably nuts. On the other hand, if Vampires really existed, why not Unicorns? "This is actually an affiliation with a game," I started, "The Unicorn clan of Legend of the Five Rings."
"Oh," he said, in the traditional non-geek way saying he didn't understand and didn't care to. A bit more of a pause followed. "I make a history of studying the supernatural, you see. I'm curious to know what made you claim this darkness exist, and what this light you found is."
"So you believe in vampires, then?"
"Yes, I've seen several. Generally stop them with a stake through the heart, though a crossbow bolt serves in a pinch. Holy water will do it, to, but that works best if its ingested. Normally, vampires are smarter about that kind of thing."
"And those that fight them?" I asked, cautiously.
The man, I realized I still didn't know his name, looked at me hard. "Those that fight them. There's a legend that states that in every generation, there will be one born with the strength and courage to fight vampires, and halt the spread of the numbers.
"The vampire slayer," I said, reflecting it into the words of Capone, who claimed to feel 'Slayer' in Chicago.
"Yes, the vampire slayer," I felt his eyes boring into me. He continued, "I have reason to suspect, though, that there is more than one. They are awakening all over the world. I read the same article that you did, about one in Baltimore that was not found in time. Do you think you have found one?"
I dropped my eyes to my cooling fish, taking a bite. "Who are you? Why should I trust you? I've seen dark things these last few days."
His voice softened, "While there was only one slayer, there were those called Watchers that were supposed to find those that could become the slayer. Most of them are now dead, killed by a force I will not name here. I am Rupert Giles, commonly called Giles. I am one of the last of the Watchers."
I have always been keen to nuances of wordplay, probably all the card games I played. "You said was and were. You suspect they awake, or you know?"
He looked at me, now aware of his slip, "I know. Have you found one of the newly awakened?"
I thought it over. Take the chance he was not on my side, or go for it? I finished off my fish, picking at my now cold fries. I chose my words carefully, "I think so. This person claims to have had dreams of fighting vampires. This person, along with a friend, and myself, has turned three to dust."
"She has had dreams, had she?" he mused to himself.
I started. I had not told him anything about this person, yet he all ready assumed it was a female, "I said the person had dreams, and you refer to a she?" I asked.
"It was always a female, I knew no reason it would change."
I stopped picking at my fries. There was a lot he wasn't telling me. We had come to a point of mutual distrust, it seemed.
"I want to meet her," he said, finally.
"I'm not sure that's my decision to make. She not yet in junior high, and she has parents. She had her reservations about me meeting you in the first place." That was a lie. She wanted anyone possible to shed light on her dreams. Baseball took a higher priority, however.
"We've lost one in Baltimore," he reminded me. "Do you want to risk your friend dying?"
I didn't want to risk *anyone* dying. Life was precious to me. But either way, I was taking a risk...
"Very well. I suppose I'll just have to chance it. My name is John," I said, holding my hand out.
He took it, and shook it.
"I, suppose you have a car? I am staying in Evanston, and took the elevated train from Midway."
"I do," I said, as we disposed of our garbage, making our way down to the parking garage.
"Why were you late?" I asked suddenly.
"The Northwestern Library is right next store. They have this *marvelous* occult section," he said in all seriousness.
Giles eyes widened in shock at the music coming from my car, but said nothing audible.
I just wish either of us had known we were being followed.