Synopsis: Death takes a holiday.
From the Bangor train station Willie hired a cab to take him to the airport, where he booked a first class seat on the next flight to New York City. The reservationist looked suspiciously at the eccentric young man who paid with cash in large denominations, but there was no law against it, and soon her apathy prevailed. The vampire dined on a flight attendant in the souvenir shop while waiting for his plane to board. One hour and twenty minutes after takeoff, Willie was in the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps.
He roamed the streets of Manhattan for the rest of the night, enjoying tastes of a chorus girl, a stockbroker, a hooker (he paid her), and a lonely housewife he met in the bar of a comedy club. This city was like an all-you-can-eat buffet. He even saw two other vampires on his travels; they simply smiled and nodded in recognition as they passed, like a professional courtesy. One of them was a drag queen.
Willie partied until the wee hours, and some nightclubs were still open when the rising sun forced him to take refuge for the day. He booked a room at a nice looking joint on East 42nd Street called the Helmsley Palace. The bedroom was lavish, but Willie felt safer in a more confined space, so he slept in the tub.
Around 10 that morning, the bathroom door opened and the overhead light switched on. Willie woke and squinted up to see the chambermaid standing in the doorway with her cleaning trolley.
"¿Senor, qué estás haciendo?
Willie motioned for her to leave. "No molestar; vamos."
"Hombre loco," the lady muttered to herself before closing the door.
The next evening Willie bought a map of New York State and rented a luxury car from Avis. He felt a twinge of guilt about lifting a wallet on the way there, but he knew he was going to have to present a driver's license and a credit card for the deposit, even if he was paying cash. Afterwards, he dropped the billfold in a mailbox where hopefully it would be returned to its owner. Funny, he thought, how people change.
It took three hours to drive to Schenectady, and shortly after midnight he arrived at Richard Harrison's house.(9) Willie looked up at the dark building. It was a spacious split level with a manicured yard, the kind of house Lyddie deserved to live in. There was a Chevy in the driveway and two bikes on the patio. The vampire scaled the wall and climbed in the bathroom window which was cracked open.
He silently entered the master bedroom and watched his mother sleeping for a long while; she was still the prettiest girl in town. He wanted to touch her, kiss her cheek, stroke her hair but was afraid she might awaken. On her night table he placed Mrs. Stoddard's sapphire earrings, in which the stones were surrounded by tiny diamonds. He remembered that deep blue was Lydia's favorite color because it matched her eyes.
"Happy Mother's Day," he whispered.
Willie crossed to the other side of the bed and, for the first time, saw his stepfather. He had always imagined a tall, stern man with a square jaw like Burke Devlin. But this guy didn't look big at all; he had kind of a baby face, wavy brown hair that was graying at the temples and a moustache. On Big Dick's nightstand the vampire put a fat stack of hundred dollar bills.
"That's for all the cash you put out lookin' for me. Take good care a' my mom," he said to the sleeping man.
Willie tiptoed out and went down the hall. In another bedroom he found a golden haired princess of about seven years, sleeping in a mountain of ballerinas and bears. The rainbow plaque on the door read Jocelyn.
The next bedroom was labeled Ricky. His bedroom sported a definite Star Wars motif, from the Darth Vader area rug to the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. Little Dick had blond ringlets, rosy cheeks and the face of a cherub. Willie wished that he had brought something for his half brother, but it was probably okay. From the collection of toys piled onto every surface, it seemed the child lacked for nothing.
The young man was about to leave when he heard a buzzing sound and turned to see Little Dick sitting up in bed with a glowing light saber in his hand.
"Are you a burglar?" he asked with a child's simple curiosity.
"Nah, this is just a dream," the vampire replied.
"Are you—?" The boy pointed to the poster behind him.
"I'm your big brother, Willie." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Did mom ever tell ya about me?" Ricky nodded solemnly. "Well, now yer havin' a dream about it."
"You look like Luke Skywalker; I knew you would. Mom doesn't have any pictures of you so I made her one." He scrambled out of bed and removed the drawing from his Millennium Falcon bulletin board. "You can keep it. It made Mom cry."
"Dick, I mean Ricky, listen, I hope you're good for your mom, not a rotten kid like I was. Make her happy so she don't cry anymore." Willie checked out the picture. "Is this me? Hey, I'm a good lookin' guy. Wish I really had one a' them swords." He carefully placed it in his satchel.
"Light saber," the youngster corrected him, and by its green glow, proceeded to regale his brother with tales of Tatooine, Alderaan and the Death Star, heroes, pirates, princesses and knights.
"Who's the troll?" Willie pointed to the life size doll on the boy's dresser.
"A Jedi master, he is, to teach you the ways of the force."
"Master, huh? No, thanks, I already had one a' them. Wait, does he know how to fly?"
"Duh."
"Wish I did." He rose. "I gotta get back before sunup. See ya, kid."
"Why don't you ever visit us?"
"I can't—I live too far away. I travel all over the world and have adventures."
"Will you send me something?"
"Prob'ly not; you got too much crap as it is. Now go back to sleep."
"I am asleep. This is my dream."
"Whatever. G'night."
Willie turned off the boy's light saber, returned it to the Yoda doll and tucked in his little brother before squeezing back out the bathroom window and returning to his automobile. He had just enough time to drive back to Manhattan, return his rental car and settle into his luxury bathtub before dawn.
The following evening, Willie sent out his good clothes to be dry cleaned and asked the concierge to help him locate a seller of antique books and rare first editions. He was referred to Bauman's on Madison Avenue.
The bookseller laughed at him. "You're looking for a first edition of Candide? Try the Metropolitan Museum. Something like that would be priceless." The vendor pointed to his display case. I can show you a finely illustrated Swedish copy from 1946 that goes for $300."
Willie shook his head. The only Swedish he knew was how to ask for vodka or a blonde.
"Can I perhaps interest you in a Dickens? It's inscribed by the author."
Willie decided to try another shop instead where he found what he considered to be a suitable substitute. The young man then hunted down a fine wine shop where he purchased the oldest bottle of the stuff available: it was called Domaine de la Romanee Conti and cost even more than the Rothschild 1870 that he had drank.
The young vampire returned to his hotel room where he carefully stowed his valuable purchases in the satchel, had his clean clothes delivered, watched some TV, drank the blood of a chambermaid, and checked out. It was time to go home.
(9) Richard Harrison ("Big Dick") was the man Willie's mother, Lydia, married while Willie was away at school. Willie saw their son Richard, Jr. ("Little Dick") once as an infant. (Little Willie, Ch. 3, Globetrotters, Ch. 5)
