Pitiable

Below is the beginning of what is developing into my contribution to the 'vampire' stories' that are all the rage now.

I told my daughter I'd give my version of one just for the hell of it.

Also, some have asked if I were going to write anything 'creepy' like those shorties I did last year late.

What I have in mind may have a few surprises re Freedom imbedded.

Well, here's the start:


'I'll live forever', hummed the long haired young woman as she circled Pendo.

Her dark looks were accentuated by high cheekbones, a full mouth (called 'pillow' lips by some), and clear hazel eyes. She looked Irish and Hispanic.

'We all do deary.'

A young man had appeared quietly near her side and startled her reverie.

'Oh', she cried out, then seemed to settle down as she checked this fellow out.

He looked like a yuppie bent on clubbing downtown, complete with black jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket.

His complexion was a little pale in the streetlight, but he seemed quite handsome and healthy, with dark hair and blue eyes offsetting a lean face with what used to be called a 'patrician' nose.

'Sooo dude, don't sneak up on a girl on the street, ok?'

He laughed and said, 'No way. I'm just light on my feet.' He danced a couple of moves.

She laughed again. 'It's dangerous downtown after dark, even with the crowds.'

He swept his hands around. 'What crowds?'

She flinched a little but kept moving. The streets there were angled enough that light from round a corner might be cut off til you came to the intersection. This was a little strip of 'wasteland' between blocks of bars and clubs.

'Where you headed?' she asked hoping to keep him talking and not doing as she increased her step.

'Wellllll', he paused and watched her speed up, 'I was planning on going to Speeders.'

Speeders was a popular bar in the 'bar district' downtown.

There was a space of several blocks between the one section and the main area where much of the action was.

It was quiet as well, the din of nightlife dwindled in this 'no man's land'. And, though it had just turned to night, it seemed that sound dissipated there.

'I promise I'm not a weirdo. Name's Paul by the way.'

Without stopping and continuing her increased speed, she said, 'Peg.'

'Ah, 'peg o' my heart. Um, old song. Not cool.'

She smiled a little but found it wise to keep going.

'I hate this place. There is no way to get to the main drag without going through here. Where the hell are all the other pilgrims?', she suddenly added, looking to and fro.

'Don't know. Must be something keeping them. But we're smart to keep to the street. I wouldn't cut through an alley for anything.'

There was a pause. Just the click clak of heels and loafers (Wood souls? Bally suedes?).

We get to Speeders, I'll buy you a drink Peg. Ok?'

'Sure'. She liked the idea. But, she still kept apart and walked with as much speed as possible.

They seemed almost lost in the fading light.

Seen from above, downtown was starting to look like some kind of starship ready to embark to parts unknown.

Night had come. Then darkness fell.

I had settled for a while at Speeders, a sports bar where many a Lothario met up with fair damsels and vice versa. It was a meat market.

The music was a mix of contemporary pop and rock with occasional old standards.

I sat at the island bar and ignored most of it. I was watching the people intermix.
It's kind of a hobby of mine. Oh, the stories I could tell lol!

The usual mix of college kids and business types mulled around, endlessly chattering in mostly vapid tone and substance. Bar chitchat.

I found the time for deeper thought was in the afternoon, when the lunch crowd thinned and some old stalwarts lingered and drifted in.

But at night, the atmosphere changed.

It was more intense. People were seeking partners for trysts. Maybe a few wanted more, but dating with the object of scoring was the main agenda.

I knew the bartenders and I didn't even have to say what I wanted usually.

My taste had changed over the years and I segued from sippin whiskey to Scotch (Though I can be a very versatile drinker -s-).

These days, it was single malt, mostly Scapa (The breath of the Orkneys).

I was finishing said 'kiss o' the isles' and preparing to head elsewhere, when two striking people came gliding through the door.

They seemed about the middlin' age, maybe late twenties, though this place attracted a cross section of ages and professions, or lack thereof.

Both dressed in black and both a little out of breath.

She had long dark hair, high cheekbones and it turned out, hazel eyes. Her dress was about midthigh, with lace bodice and heels that accentuated a pair of 'endless' legs to die for. I could have fallen off my stool, except I was standing. I wondered if she liked older men lol.

He was dark haired too and looked like he came from an old family. His jeans, jacket etc looked like an outfit I had at home. Guy had good taste in clothes and girls -s-.

What was most striking was their seemingly effortless way of gliding to the bar.

It was as though they were walking on air. It reminded me of a couple of girls my son and I had encountered many years ago.

Reminded me of the way the Cullens in 'Twilight' traipsed about. By the way, I don't dig the vampire jazz too much.

My daughter read Twilight and saw the movies. She watched Vampire Diaries on tv and read a plethora of vampy type books (Somehow managing a 4.0 anyway.).

Though I watched some of the stuff with her, I was more the Bela Lugosi/Christopher Lee type of fan. Classics. And oldies. I intended to stroll over to Retroz, where yes, they played hits and obscurities from the 50's, 60's etc.

I ordered another Scapa, thinking these new arrivals were interesting.

Apparently, the girl thought I was too.

They settled nearby and after ordering, she strolled over and asked me to dance. !!!

'Would you dance with me?' Her expression would melt the heart of the nastiest curmudgeon in Creation.

I looked down a beat and said (incredibly),'I hate dancing.'

She touched my arm and it was like a mild shock. She cocked her head. 'Please?'

I looked in the mirror behind the bar, then sideways and said,'Ok.'

I slid from the bar, taking her hand and led her to the dance floor, turning to her and taking her hand up and my other hand round her waist. Air Supply's Even the Nights Are Better was playing.

Yes, I know how to dance. I just don't care to.

She looked up at me. 'I hope I'm not a bother'.

I thought, um no and said so.

Then she dropped the bombshell.

'You um, uh, looked safe.'

Thanks toots. Reminded me of Rio Lobo where the girl told the Duke he was 'comfortable'.

Well, I don't hurt easily. I asked,'What's wrong?'

'I think someone's stalking me'. Those hazel eyes looked down, then up as though they looked right through me. 'There's someone out there, in the dark, watching. I even feel it now.' She shuddered and it told me she wasn't kidding.

'It's not the dude you came in with then?'

'No. I just met him on the way here. To be honest I think he felt it too.'

'Hmm', I turned with her and looked her in the eye.

They were crystal clear and though there was concern, there was strength.

'It's your lucky day, maybe. I'm a private investigator. Bonded insured and reliable.' I smiled and seemed to almost fall into those eyes.

She smiled back.

'I knew I could trust you.'

I shrugged, off put by her heat and her scent. It seemed to exude lilac and roses.

I thought about when I was younger. Could she have trusted me then?

'What's your name?', I asked matter of factly.

'Call me Peg.', she smiled.

'O' my heart? What's the whole monniker?'

The song ended and I escorted her to the bar.

'Everybody says that. And yes, I know the song. My Dad used to sing it to me.' She smiled and tossed her head slightly. 'Margarita O'Brien.'

I immediately thought of Charles Bronson's character in the Magnificent Seven, Bernardo O'Reilly. And the child actress I saw once in a play (In a nightgown. Quite an impression for a 12 year old boy.)

'Mark Hazard.'

She lifted a dark winglike eyebrow and her full lips shifted.

'Ok. I tell people that sometimes because they make fun of me being a private investigator. So, I put them on a little.' I half smiled. 'It's Mike Hammer.' I said it deadpan, thinking this 'kid' wouldn't know who the hell Spillane's character was. Plus, her fear was palpitating. Disarm the potential client and calm them with humor. My trademark -s-.

She shot back,'You are a wonder. What's the name really?' She scrunched that sculpted face.

'Mike is right. And Hill is the surname. At your service.' I reached in my jacket pocket and gave her my card.

'Mmmhmm. Hilltop Investigations. Catchy.' She looked at me and said,'This thing is real, Mike. There is someone watching me. Ask Paul.'

'Paul. This is Mike Hill. He's a private eye. Mike this is Paul, um what's your last name?' Sheepish grin.

'Paul Hathaway. Peg tell you about the eyes?' He seemed preoccupied.

'Like being watched. Yeah. What did you see, feel?'

He appeared pensive, and reflected.

'It was like something floating above us. Sounds nuts and I'd had a couple over on the Avenue. But, it was like something peering out of the sky. Gave me the creeps.'

'Hm. Any sign of who it was. Did he/she seem close?'

He paused and his head lurched a bit.

'Yeah. Like ready to pounce. Weird man.'

Peg spoke, 'It seemed someone was stalking like a predator. Did I ever need a drink.' She took a large swallow of her drink. I was impressed. It was whisky neat, of some kind.

'Kinda vague guys. Was there anyone else? You alone?'

"Yep. It was dark and quiet. Kinda strange since there is usually a steady flow from the Av to here.'

"What can I do for you? Doesn't look like much and it is downtown. People watch people all the time.' I couldn't help but smile at Peg, hoping I didn't look like an old lech.

'I don't know. Nothing I guess. Hey, I'm gonna go to Clubnewz. Wanna come Peg?'

'No thanks. Think I'll hang here. See ya round Paul'

He looked a little crestfallen. 'Ok. Later'

He made to leave and I caught him.

'Here, keep my card. If you think of anything just call, ok?'

'Sure. Later.' Off went the black clad Romeo doubtless to seek new conquests.

'Tell you what Peg. I'm headed out. Are you ok? Do you want me to walk you to your car?'

She thought quickly. 'Where you headed?'

I was a little surprised but secretly pleased. 'To Retroz. I like to have a few and a bite and do some final people watching before I head to the barn.'

'Mind if I tag along? I'd like to talk some more.'

She seemed both at home and upset. There was something to her story of a watching eye. But what?