In the park they washed themselves off in the fountain, adding a new mustiness to the dismal colour of the water. The full moon hushed its light through the cultivated canopy of the park, creating a fractal of shadows for them to bathe in.
The dying night was still hot and good for a wander while their clothes dried. They walked without talking, Lex slump-shouldered and well-covered in the blankets of his thoughts. Goon wasn’t used to seeing him in this state and tipped his gnarly head trying to catch his eye.
They hadn’t seen each other in a while, it being nearly two years since they had parted ways. Gareth was Lex’s oldest friend, freshly returned from traveling, bringing himself back reincarnated as Goon, a wandering creole musician. Lex could admit he wasn’t bad on the guitar, but his accent just wasn’t credible.
Gareth knew it too but didn’t care. He took the notion of reinvention as his method of disguise, to help hide from the authorities, and to stop anyone trailing backwards to find out his true age. He was eighty, not looking a day over twenty-five, renewing himself out of whimsy or necessity, but always near to hand when Lex needed him. ‘Wo’, yo up den down dude. Wha’s w’dat?’
Lex himself was surprised at his mood, it must be from the sharing. Every time you share someone’s blood — “partake” may be a more accurate word, or “steal” would be right for some occasions — one necessarily takes in more than just a pleasing taste and the lively effervescence of another person’s essence. It was stronger when sharing the blood of another immortal but even humans gave the biter access to the memories, emotions and knowledge that was coursing through their veins.
‘One of those fucking kids, man. He was really messed up.’
‘Yah, ‘e was wors dan dat fucking Fergus characta. Yo remember him?’
Fergus was this dupe from years back that he and Goon — or Gordon at the time, he only ever chose G names for aliases — had decided to raise as consolation for depriving him of his one true love. It was four years ago, Gordon and Lex had been cradled up with two girls when one of their phones rang. Gordon answered and pretended he was a police officer and something bad had happened to the woman. The man’s face when he arrived was priceless, as priceless as a shattered Ming vase.
‘'e threw yo into an ugle funk for weeks.’
‘Yeah, I remember him.’
‘And what an ungrateful sucker. We raise ‘im up as our kin and git no thanks. No bit o thanks.’
‘Your “th’s” are way off.’
‘I was only there for a week mon, give me a break.’ Goon grinned. He’d gotten the look right, sun dark skin, matted hair that overhung and shadowed his face like creepy branches, slashed open by the whites of his eyes and a voodoo grin. Perhaps if he just hummed and grunted he could get away with it. ‘You see ol’ Fergus aroun’ tow’ much?’
‘I try not to. I know where he is though.’ He lied. He saw Fergus every now and then. Lex didn’t accept failure very well. He felt something in him turned bad with failures, perhaps it was the bit of them he’d shared. That had to be it.
‘Understandably so. Well it be gittin’ light now. I’m going to kip at my new shakedown. What you be doin’?’
‘I’ll hang around, see if any of the takers need me. Maybe go find Fergus.’
‘You’re a good soul Lex.’
‘Thanks Gareth.’
‘It’s Goon for now don’t forget. Yo find me if yo nee’ me.’
‘Goon then.’ Lex paused and looked up to the sky. ‘It’s happening isn’t it?’
‘You should be the one to know.’
Lex nodded. ‘Do you think many will come?’
‘We’ll see.’
‘I guess we will.’
Despite the walk, the setting, and catching up with his old friend, he still couldn’t shake the crestfallen feeling. What Lex needed was a pick me up.
Quicklinks The Quiet Darkness by David Henley - First Entry | Latest Entry

Comments