he dumped her. But when she ran into him recently, she realized she still felt something for him."
"Slender fellow? Black hair? Dresses in black?"
"Yeah, that's the guy. His name's Charles." Maggie reached over and lightly touched my shoulder. "I'm really sorry, Al."
I turned, and her hand fell from my shoulder. "Please, Maggie. Do not worry about me. I will be okay."
Maggie paused for a second, biting her lip. "I tried to tell her the way she was handling this was bullshit. Now, she's not talking to me either."
"Do not worry," I replied, smiling bravely. "You have been friends since childhood. As you Americans are so fond of saying, this will all blow over. Her anger will pass."
Maggie nodded pensively. "Yeah, I know, but I miss her, Al. And I'm worried about her, but she won't let me help her. That's why I'm here. I just don't know what to do. Can you help her?"
My laughter filled the cab, my reaction stronger than desired.
Maggie paused, crossing her arms in front of her. "Look, Al, I know you're feeling hurt, but she didn't mean for it to happen like this. She's not really herself right now."
"If not herself, then who?"
A horse-drawn carriage passed the cab. Inside, a young couple snuggled close together. Maggie glanced at the pair, then returned her gaze back to me. "Love is illusion, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically, as if she spoke not to me or anyone in particular.
We watched silently for a moment as the carriage disappeared into the night, the hoofbeats fading into inaudibility. "Look, Al, you can't just all of a sudden not care about her, can you? No matter what she does?"
"No, Maggie," I replied. "I do care, but it seems quite apparent that she does not want me in her life. She does not desire my help and would view such overtures as an unwelcome intrusion." Indeed. With a killer vampire running amok, why should the petty problems of a confused child be worthy of my trouble?
Maggie's reply seemed non-sequitur. "Did you know Maggie's father killed himself."
My back straightened. "She most certainly did not tell me that. She merely told me that he was dead, but did not tell me how he had died."
"Nicole was fourteen. She came home from school one day and found him. He'd blown his head clean off his shoulders. The paramedics had to pry his fingers off the shotgun."
"How horrid!"
"She's never been the same since that day. Most of the time, she's fine, but every once in awhile, she'll go through a suicidal episode. Something triggers it, and all of a sudden, she becomes really self-destructive, if not suicidal. Over the years, she's slit her wrists, taken pills, tried to jump into theWisconsin River . I stopped her that time."
"Suicide can be like a contagious disease sometimes," I said. "When life is considered so precious, it is a shock to see someone voluntarily snuff it out."
"I think Truck's murder did it this time."
Of course. Her erratic behavior did indeed coincide with his death, and such a senseless death! These mortals find death disturbing enough as it is, but when it is as senseless as that, where there is no reason and not even an identifiable killer, they become paralyzed.
"And that fucker Charles - " The words flew excitedly from her mouth. "He's bad news, Al. Bad news. He's into Satan worship, and I think he's getting Nicole into it too. I'm worried. I think something real bad is going to happen. While she was still talking to me, she tried to tell me stuff, about how he's able to do more things for her than you, give her more than you can. Do you have any idea what the fuck that means."
Infernal words echoed inside me.Make me like you. I want to be like you. I don't want to die. I want to live forever.
Alarms rang. Actions and motives, all crystal clear. Her words had said she was afraid to die; her silence had said that if I would not give her what she wanted, she would find someone who would. Surely, Nicole would not be so foolish to be taken in by a charlatan like Charles, but as Maggie was relating, she was not entirely herself.
A cultivated, icy calm coated my exterior despite what I was feeling inside. "I cannot make any promises, but I think I would be willing to have a talk with this Charles."
"The hell with talking, Al. Kick his skinny little ass."