Recognition

Originally written Saturday, December 3, 2005 (continued)

Because my own questions had gone unanswered. I nearly slapped my forehead in frustration. Instead, I turned the car off (figuring at least I’d have a warm, de-iced car when it was time to leave) and rushed back to the dance hall as fast as the slippery, not-yet-salted parking lot would allow me. I found Moshe in the hallway by the restrooms. No one else was around. Spinning him around by the elbow to face me, I cut right to the chase, almost afraid I’d forget again.

“What are you looking for? What did you take from the museum?”

He looked completely startled. “What?!”

“The museum. Pre-Civil War things. Why have you been following me and my friends?”

“Following you? Which friends? What are you talking about?”

He stared at me. I stared at him. “Trudy and Richard. The tunnels, the museum, the dance. And the movie theater.”

“Who? When? Huh? I don’t know those people. I mean, I… I danced with you a couple of weeks ago.”

“Yeah.”

“And I talked with you tonight. I’ve never followed you anywhere.”

“You didn’t sit behind me at the theater last week? Pride and Prejudice?”

“I went to that movie, yeah. But I don’t remember seeing you there. I definitely didn’t follow you. Look, I don’t know what this is all about. I don’t know if you just assume that every guy you dance with here is a stalker or something, but I… I better go.” He turned and started heading for the lobby, saying as he went, “You’re a nutcase.”

“And you,” I said to his back, “are the weirdest goddamn vampire I’ve ever friggin’ met!”

It took him less than a second to have me against the wall, his arm pinning me across the chest. “How did you know that?”

So I guessed it was my turn to say, “Huh?”

“That I’m a…” he actually looked embarrassed as he spoke the words in a whisper, “a vampire.”

I wanted to say, duh, but I’m nothing if not respectful of the idiocy of others. “Um, I guess it’s a vibe. Clues. You know, you meet enough vampires, you learn to recognize them.”

“You know others?” His eyes, nearly saucers, quickly narrowed. “Are you one?”

“Uh… a few, here and there. And no. No, I’m not a vampire. I’m… something else.”

At that point, the dance on the other side of the wall finished up, and people started streaming out of the doors and toward the restrooms. Moshe released his hold on me, the hallway filled, and within minutes we found ourselves surrounded by friendly mutual acquaintances. I had it in mind that we would continue with our encounter when we got clear of the minglers, but that plan must have slipped away in the meantime, because I found myself in my car, halfway home with all of my goodbyes said and a vague memory of a naïve immortal himself getting lost in the crowd.