LISA'S "PRIVATE THOUGHTS" - OCTOBER 22ND, 2014 "Something Bad Is Coming" Part - II

                             

While I continue to watch the land slowly being bathed by the morning’s rays, the leading edge of the light begins to touch the edge of the dairy farm and halts.  Well, not exactly.  The light continues to stretch across the land, but it does so by going AROUND a portion of the farm, in particular the barn.  It’s almost as if that area has a barrier around it, which is repelling the dawn’s rays.  

At first I shake my head, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.  Perhaps some trees are casting a shadow over that spot, but no.  What I’m seeing is not a shadow, it’s something else, something sinister. 

As I continue to watch, the edge of sunlight slowly closes around the dark area around the barn and continues to spread across the land.  That is of course when my mind starts thinking about Timothy Spratt and what my father had told me.  At this point I’ve usually woken up.  But last night the dream kept going.

Tearing my gaze away from the ‘shadowed’ barn I begin to study the rest of the town, to see if the effect is repeated anywhere else.  To my horror, it does.  Here and there, I notice a few other ‘blemishes’ appear in other parts of the town.  But the pattern is so sporadic, there does not appear to be any rhyme or reason to their locations.  It’s as if all that lay before me was a painting and someone had flicked a brush covered in some dark translucent stain across a canvas, marring the beauty of the scene.

None of it seems to make any sense… that is until the light reaches the grounds of the church.  It’s there that I see a much more heavy concentration of dark spots, mostly around a number of headstones in the newer sections of the graveyard.  Immediately I remember the Professor, I mean Otto, telling me and Marisa that the Ghoul-Slime... or Funus Sobrere (which is latin Corpse Absorber… see I’m already learning from him) preferred bodies of the recently deceased.  

       This of course reinforces my first impression that Tim Spratt may have been one of the creature’s earliest victims, having seen the darkness around the barn.  But at the same time it doesn’t explain why I’m being shown this ‘overview’ of the town.  Are all these blemishes places where the Funus Sobrere had been?  And if so, why was there no other reports of people/animals dying or disappearing?

Then, as if in answer to my unspoken question my eyes drift, seemingly of their own volition, away from the church grounds to one of the other larger buildings in shadows.  It’s one of the medical buildings over on Clearwater Street.  Specifically, it’s the one that contains the local diagnostic lab.  I’ve had bloodwork done there and so has pretty much everyone in town.  There have been no deaths there that I can recall… then I remember the place had a break in and samples stolen…

Including ones that belonged to Marisa’s dad, which would explain how “Ghoul-Boy”… I mean the Funus Sorbrere knew about her father’s condition when it confronted us.  A chill runs through my body at the realization that the creature had actively been seeking out who would make a nice fresh corpse in the near future for it to absorb.

‘But the thing is dead,’ I tell myself in the dream.  ‘Tony… Pastor Gregory’s brother, who it had taken over, had destroyed himself and it in fire.  It’s gone, we’re all safe… right?’

By then a feeling of doom has taken hold and I look back to the rest of the town which has now been completely revealed, blemishes and all, by the morning sun.  All is quiet… almost too quiet.

Then I see the edges of each dark patch begin to move.  It’s a slow but steady movement.  Those closest to each other meet and become a larger patch and continue to spread, seemingly more rapidly because of their greater size.  In the churchyard this happens more quickly, since so many of the graves had been violated and tainted by the Funus Sorbrere. 

I’m rooted to the spot, helpless to stop the progression as the blight spreads darkening more and more of my hometown.  Then I notice the farthest edge of the encroaching shadow begins begins to reach the outer edge of Nathan’s family estate and stops.

"Of course, Nathan was able to beat it to a standstill back in the cemetery when he came to save me and Marisa," I breathe with the first rays of hope.  Then I remember he's gone to ground... "Which means he's not here to protect us," I murmur sadly.

     And that's when the nightmare really begins. 

     It's almost as if the blight heard my words, because suddenly the darkness spreads like a wildfire.  It crashes past whatever was holding it back from my godfather's estate, sweeping over it cause plants to die and trees to wither.  The manor itself begins to darken and age just before collapsing in on itself, while my hometown is swept in shadow and I hear the first screams of terror arise...

     That's when I finally woke up to find the screams were coming from my own mouth.   Naturally my parents came rushing into my room to find out what had happened, and then spent the next hour comforting me.  Both kept reassuring me that there had been no new reports of graves being violated or disappearances of people or animals.  Still, I can't help shaking the feeling that something is coming and I'm certain Nathan will be our only chance of stopping it.

      I can't tell Marisa about the dream because I know she's been anxious about her dad.  She and her Mom are waiting for the latest lab results to come back and I don't want to burden her with my worries.  I'd talk to Otto but he's out of town.  I could e-mail him, but first I want to go to Nathan's place and check on Isabella's grave, where he went to ground with her ghost, to see if there's any change.  If I don't see anything, then I'll contact Otto for sure and ask what I should do next.  

       Damn, almost time for school.  I'll wrap things up here and report back once I've been to Nathan's place this evening.  I pray this is all just my imagination but if it isn't and there's no sign of him coming back, I don't know what we'll do.

Author's Note: Hello everyone, Allan here. I'm sorry to inform you all that my mother passed away just a week ago. She had been unwell for some months now, which combined with my own health problems, have been mostly responsible for the lack of new stories and regular updates on this blog. This will probably continue through to the end of this year, for which I sincerely apologize. So much has been going on in our lives, but we'll be trying to provide you all with updates and other entertaining posts, so please stay tuned. And thank you all for your continuing support of us and this blog. Hope you all had a Happy and Safe Halloween.

Sincerely,

Allan and Helen Krummenacker

LISA’S “PRIVATE” THOUGHTS - OCTOBER 22nd, 2014 "Something Bad Is Coming" Part-I

 *It's the spooky season gang, and I'm still dealing with some health as well as family crisis back east. So, my writing efforts have been sorely impeded. However, I wanted to give you something for the season. And since I have been working on the 2nd Vampyre Blogs novel "The Vampyre Blogs - Family Ties", which is a direct sequel to "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home", a sneak peek into that 2nd installment seemed appropriate. 

For those not familiar with this blog, this tale has appeared here once before (several years ago to be precise). But we thought it worth another appearance, since a lot of work has already been done on the new novel. 

As for where this tale takes place in the timeline in relation to the first book, these events take place during Nathan's absence after he and his sister's 'ghost' sank into the grave at the end of TVB - Coming Home.

We hope you enjoy this tale... and let the Halloween festivities commence! 

It’s been two weeks since Nathan went to ground and there’s still no sign of when he may return… and I’m worried.  Not about whether or not he’s coming back, the Professor has assured both me and Marisa repeatedly that Nathan will come back to us, it’s just a question of when?  Ever since that night at the cemetery when everything went down, I’ve had a growing feeling of unease.  

I only really noticed it a couple of days after the battle, but looking back I’m certain it was already starting to gnaw at me the moment we all headed inside Nathan’s manor to tend to Marisa’s ankle.  But I didn’t dwell on it at the time because my dad arrived with Penny, who had had a bad shock earlier having seen her former pimp Tony in town.  She still doesn’t know the guy was already dead and acting as host to the ghoul slime that nearly killed me and Marisa, not that any of us plan to tell her anytime soon because that would mean possibly revealing Nathan’s secret.  

Luckily the Professor, sorry I mean Otto (he prefers Marisa and me to call him that), was on hand to smooth things over.  I always thought Nathan was a fast talker, but he pales in comparison to Otto.  He explained to Penny that Nathan had been called away on business, leaving him in charge of overseeing further restoration of the manor in his absence. Naturally, Marisa, Richard and I all backed him up, not that we really needed to.  Otto has a disarming way about him and can be so charming that Penny seemed quite happy to have him around.

Of course, there was still the question of what happened to Marisa’s ankle. I wound up taking the lead on that one.  Nathan taught me long ago that half-truths are far more convincing and easier to remember than flat out lies.  So I told her that Marisa slipped and fell while running up the driveway to the manor when she and I were racing each other to see Nathan.  When we found out he wasn’t here, nor were Richard or Otto at that point, we called Dr. Jack who does house calls.  Which is also true, he does make house calls quite a bit even in this day and age.  Then again, we’re not a huge town so that makes things easy for him to give that personal touch.  And he did a great job on Marisa’s ankle, she’s doing much better.  At school today I could barely detect any sign of a limp as we walked to and from our classes.  Some movements still give her a twinge, but nothing serious.

And right now, as I type these words, I’m feeling another twinge of anxiety.  Probably because of the recurring dream I’ve been having for the past week.  It always starts out with me was standing on one of the many hillsides that overlooks our little town of Pointer.  The sun is just rising, and I can see the light spreading across the valley slowing approaching the town I’ve called home all my life.  Soon the morning rays begin touching the trees, turning the yellow leaves that still cling to their branches, a brilliant gold, while at the same time making the grass seem more vibrant and welcoming.

The rooftops seem to spring to life and glisten with morning dew and everything just seems so beautiful and alive… then that uneasy feeling that’s been haunting me seems to awaken and grow with a terrifying vengeance.

I find my eyes are drawn to one of the dairy farms in the distance, where not too long ago a Tim Spratt was trampled to death when something spooked the family herd causing them to break out of the barn where they’d been kept.  Officially, the word is that a mountain lion or bear broke in and killed two of the animals, but I heard my father telling Otto just last night that he believes there is more to the story.  One of the deputies, who is part of Nathan’s “Extended Family” here in town was away at the time of the incident, but upon returning to work he learned the case was still quietly being investigated.

It turns out Kevin, that’s the deputy’s name, learned from his co-workers that tracks were found leading in and out of the barn.  It looked more like several animals had been on the scene, including a deer, a bear and one or two others, that would not normally be found entering a barn.  Furthermore, there had been a sickly smell that still seemed to linger in the area.  Last I heard, the family is tearing down the barn and have moved the animals to another enclosure.

Upon hearing this, my mind raced back to the cemetery where Marisa and I came under attack from creatures the Ghoul Slime had made from the bodies of dead buried there.  Each one had been a fusion of human and animal remains, which gave off a sickly unearthly smell.  I began to wonder then if Tim Spratt had been one of the Ghoul Slime’s earliest victims, which might account for what happened next in my dream…

TO BE CONTINUED...

A Happy 4th of July Message from Nathan to All...

Hello friends, I know you're only getting re-runs on this channel at the moment, but the authors Allan and Helen are dealing with some health issues right now. Hopefully, some answers will be forthcoming within the next few weeks. And if you'd like to get a full explanation click on this link: 

A Brief Explanation and Drawing from the Darker Side of Life... (musingsoftwocreativeminds.com)

This will take you their other blog channel "Musings of Two Creative Minds" where they talk about writing, voiceover, recording, book reviews and other topics. Sometimes they also get more personal, such as in the entry the above link will be taking you to.

Now getting back today's topic, as someone who served as a soldier for the Union Army back in 1862, I know a lot of just what's at stake when it comes to fighting to preserve and protect our country and those we love. And as we celebrate our country's liberation from our former fatherland, England. I believe it is important to also remember the high cost that was paid for that freedom. And to always be thankful to those who paid the price back then, and ever since, to help make sure we still have that freedom and all the liberties that come with it. 

So please, by all means enjoy the day with family, friends, and fireworks, but also take a brief moment to thank everyone (living and deceased) who helped make this day and keep it, and our nation safe. Because our freedom came at a very heavy price...

*NOTE: I do not own the rights to this video. And for those who are wondering this a clip from the 1972 film version of the musical "1776")

HAPPY 4th OF JULY EVERYONE

Nathan's Private E-Journal October 6th, 2014 "I May Have Made A Mistake..." Part - II

    Ah, how I love the crisp night air on nights like this. I think Fall and Winter have always been my two of my favorite seasons. Long before my change I used to love these times of year. Something about the cooler weather just made things easier on my achy body. Of course, back then no one had heard of Fibromyalgia, you were just considered "too delicate" or "a malingerer". But in those seasons, I just always felt more alert, more alive and still do. Although now it may be partly the fact that since my body prefers evenings, the shorter hour of daylight probably plays a big part in things.

     In any case the cool air and the signs of autumn are helping lift my spirits tremendously. 

     The barren branches of the trees seem to reach out as if to touch the starlit night sky.  There are a few clouds but not enough to mar the view of the moon or the stars.  Halloween is not far away, and I hope the evening is like this so everyone can enjoy themselves trick or treating or going to parties.  Perhaps I should open the manor to visitors?  Nah, too soon.  Although Richard's done wonders with the place, but it's not ready for visitors.  Or maybe it's just me, which is probably the case, since I'm using all this mental wandering to avoid the problem of Marisa hanging around the old locomotive, which happens to be exactly where I'm headed right now.

     How long has the old thing been there?  Even I'm not really sure.  We were a rail town long before the war started back in 1861 and trains were coming and going on such a regular basis, who'd have noticed if one engine never seemed to be moved?  I'll have to ask Louisa the next time I see them.

     I can see her outline in the darkness up ahead.  One side of her is lit up from the distant glow of a streetlamp.  She's always been impressive looking, in spite of all the rust and weathering from all the years of exposure to the elements.  She's a fixture from another time and will in all likelihood continue to stand there for many decades to come.  Especially since there is no way to move her.  She's anchored to that spot, just as I hinted to Marisa last night.  

     That probably wasn't one of my better moves, but she was so upset at the idea of the thing being haunted I had to come up with something more pleasant and intriguing.  Alas, that is part of my curse for having become a writer.  My mouth works faster than my common sense some days.  Of course, there are those who question whether I have any common sense at all, like Louisa.

     Oh, the haranguing she'll give me if the carnival shows up and finds Marisa hanging around one of their 'anchors' to this world.  That woman can have the sharpest tongue on her at times.  Hell, she could put a ginsu knife to shame when she wants to.  Not that I can blame her.  Like me she's very protective of those in her carnival, and with good reason.  If anyone ever knew the true nature of any of the members of Karneval Schatten, or where they came from...  

   Wow, I'm actually shuddering at the thought.   But who could blame me?  Our first adventure together was a terrifying one.  If it hadn't been for Brandon Elliott and his great-grandson Peter, I don't know if even I could've survived the fire that night.  Thanks to them, we all got out in one piece... well almost all of us.  Brandon stayed behind to keep that white-haired creep at bay, while Peter and I got the trapped employees, along with Louisa and her troupe, to safety.   

     I tried to go back for Brandon, but it was already too late.  The building had begun caving in on itself and the heat had become too intense even for me to mist through.  I felt like a failure that day, until I noticed young Peter, who was standing no more than a dozen feet away, talking to a man that everyone else seemed blissfully unaware of.  It took me a moment to recognize the figure as that of the man who had saved us all, only he was looking much younger.  I thought about going over to them, but just then the figure faded, and Peter came over to me saying, "We have to get the others out of here.  There's a train about a half a mile from here we can get them on.  But it has to be soon, otherwise the opening will close, and they'll be caught again."

     I started to ask why, only Louisa's mother (also her namesake) joined us.  Having seen my abilities in action earlier, she begged me to help get those in her care back to their train.  Most were still exhausted from their imprisonment inside the depths of the factory, while others had been injured in our escape.  Having learned that many of them were, like my Sangui-Sapio half, were not from this Earth, I agreed.  Getting them to the safety of their conveyance had not been easy, but between my mist form and mind control we managed and saw them off.  That was the second time I'd seen a portal to a Para-Earth open, but the first time I saw one close.  However, it wasn't the last.

    They'd asked me to come with them before they left, but I declined.  At the time, I'd only recently lost Madeleine my first wife, and our son Brian (who Lisa's father is named after) was still in mourning and needed me.  So, I remained behind, that time anyway.  But our paths crossed again and again, and always they'd bring me back here to this spot because it's one of their an "anchor points".  At least that's what Otto and Louisa told me once, long ago.  In spite of all my travels with both Otto and my carnival friends, there's still so much to learn about Para-Earths.  Lisa seems fascinated and would like to go with us on one of our jaunts, and one day I might take her.  But first I'll introduce her to Louisa and company the next time they come calling.  

     Whenever that will be.  I never know.  Sometimes they'll come to town and stay a few days, while other times they'll just show up in the middle of the night looking for me because my talents are needed.  They always seem to know where to find me, not that I mind.  I have many friends aboard that train.  I'm just not sure about Marisa encountering them unexpectedly.  

     The Crypt will be open tomorrow night and I know the girls will be showing up, so I'll talk to them then.  If worse comes to worse and Marisa insists on visiting the engine, I'll make sure I'm on hand just in case the carnival suddenly decides to come to town at the wrong moment.  

For those who have read the "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" this entry takes place the night before Marisa and Lisa are taken up to Nathan's art studio, after Marisa's little fight with another girl.  It in the studio that Marisa's first suspicions about Nathan's true nature form because of a dropped compact. 

Until next time, happy reading dear friends.

Nathan's Private E-Journal October 6th, 2014 "I May Have Made a Mistake..."

 *Today's tale takes place during "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" but does not appear in the novel. .  You may consider it an untold tale that happened shortly before the big showdown between Nathan and the Funus-Sorbere  (referred to as the Ghoul Slime in the story).  Yes, we intend to start giving these life forms real names in "The Vampyre Blogs - Family Ties" novel.  For the record, the life form that transformed Nathan is referred to as Sangui-Sapio.  This story also serves as a little prelude to one of the tales in our upcoming anthology "TVB - One Day at a Time".  So please sit back and enjoy.*

      As I sit here in my study, staring into a nice blaze in the fireplace, I think I may have made a huge mistake.  

     All that encouragement I gave Marisa last night with the writing... what was I thinking?  But it's probably too late now.  She seemed really fired up about the idea, especially with Lisa cheering her on.  Any sudden change in attitude on my part would only raise a bunch of questions and self-doubts, which is the last thing she needs right now.  I gave her the idea about taking up writing to help keep her mind busy while we wait to hear back on her dad's test results.  But now I can't help thinking that there may be unforeseen consequences.

     Not that I don't think she should try her hand at writing, I think she could probably become a very successful writer.  She has a very keen mind and I've looked over some of her papers when she and Lisa have done their homework at my place.  Her command of grammar and sentence structure would make any college professor weep for joy.  Believe me I would know, Otto used to give me no end of grief about my writing.  Mind you, I learned to write back in the 1850's and 60's and what was considered acceptable back then was quite another matter.  Furthermore, I went to war instead of college back then.  It wasn't until 194- that I actually stepped into my first classroom and that was at a university.  And that was only after Otto spent a number several years bringing my skills and knowledge up to an acceptable level, while Para-Earth hopping.
    Otto... I wish he were here; he'd know how to advise me and not just because he's at least a couple centuries older than me. Oh wait, that's precisely why he'd know what to say right now.  Sigh.  My mind is all over the place tonight.  Between coming back home, finding out Isabella has been around all this time apparently waiting for me, helping Richard with his drug addiction, and having to keep my secret from Penny and Marisa... it's a miracle I've still got my head on straight at all.
     I so want to see Isabella and talk to her, but as near as I can tell I shook her up pretty badly the night I attacked Richard.   I don't want to make the same mistake with the others, especially Marisa.  She seems to have a deep dislike for anything vampire-like, which is strange because John told me in confidence, they used to watch vampire films together all the time.  I wonder what changed?  Maybe Lisa can tell me, I'll check with her.
      "Not that any of this helps me with my main problem," I tell myself and get up.  Pacing around the room I find myself stopping to stare out the window. 

     Evening has fully settled in, perhaps a walk might help me work through my little dilemma.  Yes, that sounds like a nice idea.  I always think better when I'm out and about on my own.  And then maybe I'll come up with a good excuse to keep her away from the old locomotive on the edge of town...

TO BE CONTINUED...

E-Journal of Nathanlie Eoghan Steward October 11, 2018 “GHOSTS” - Part VIII CONCLUSION – Epilogue

 

That’s what we had to splash across the posters outside the theater announcing the release of Lost Films of Roscoe Fatty Arbuckle.

And from what I’ve been told already, we’re sold out for the next three nights as well.

The SOLD-OUT part caused quite the uproar, but since I had a ‘in’ with the owner, I’ve been able to assure everyone that we’re adding as many more runs as the public demands. And each showing will involve more of the red-carpet treatment.

What exactly is the red-carpet treatment you ask? 

Well, it involves a number of celebrities and officials in attendance (which will vary depending upon the individuals’ availability, as well as other important folk who had not been able to attend the opening night festivities), along with the red carpet. I’ve also hired a number of actors and actresses from the local and neighboring theaters, as well as students from the high school drama departments, to show up in full costume and make-up as stars from the past to help add to the atmosphere. Those not walking the red carpet will be in the ‘crowd’ screaming, cheering, and asking for autographs. And in fairness, we’re rotating members of the “crowd” with the red-carpet walkers so everyone gets their chance to get the ‘star’ treatment.

Mind you, ‘the crowd’ will be mixed in with those in the actual crowd of news media, and onlookers who show up. We just want to make sure there would be enough folks on hand to make things seem more authentic. Not that we really needed our actors/actresses, quite a real crowd showed up and from what I’ve been told, they’ll be showing up again and again.

From what everyone has been telling me, the look-alike celebrities are a huge hit alongside the important guests, who had a ball mingling with Hollywood’s stars of yester-year. Who knows, maybe a few new stars may be being discovered, or at least given a chance to make their own names known? I can only hope.

Lisa, Marisa, Teddy and a few of their friends are certainly becoming better known. As I had promised Roscoe, I decided to showcase some of the talents I’d learned over the decades from him. Tonight, we recreated a scene from Roscoe’s “The Cook”, which involved perfect timing as I (as the Cook) tossed various items across the stage to Teddy the waiter as he was coming into the kitchen. This in turned into a dance number. We also recreated several other scenes from some of Roscoe's other movies we were showing tonight. And everybody was right on cue. 

This was mostly thanks to Lisa. Roscoe had shown up several time during rehearsal to help give her advice and instructions on how to help the others get their timing down just right. But even with his guidance, more than a few plates, cups, and other breakables (although we started out with plastic ones) met unfortunate ends during those rehearsals. 

And because I’m such a swell guy, I did permit people to film and record our routines. Why? Because having our antics shown all over the internet is going help build interest in this wonderful crew of talented young people. Who knows? Maybe it will lead to some radio, television, commercials, or streaming service projects for some of them down the road.

In the meantime, I already have a few Keystone Cop routines in mind for Teddy and the rest of this little band of actors. After all, I want to do some more silent film festivals in the near future. 

But what I’ve enjoyed most was seeing more of Roscoe, and knowing it was really him. For so long, one of my greatest regrets in having such a long life was knowing I’d have to say goodbye to so many wonderful people I came to know and love. Of course, new people keep entering my life, but it’s still very having to eventually have to let go of the ones you’ve already known and loved for so long.

I’ve not had the courage to ask Roscoe anything about the afterlife. But just knowing one does exist is reassuring. And even more importantly, knowing that 'some' of my older friends from long ago will show up every now and then to spend some more time with me, makes what I assume (based on my already extremely long life) my many years ahead a little less scary.

- THE END

We hoped you enjoyed this not-so-short tale about Nathan and company. We've wanted to do a story like this that demonstrates how in spite of his already long existence and research, there's still so much our hero does not know about his condition. And we're looking forward to exploring and finding out more of what those possibilities are, with all of you.

In the meantime, more re-runs of older past stories will appear here for a while. Allan has a new novel (which does not involve Nathan or the Para-Earths) to release in the next two months. 

Also, we are hoping to release a new anthology titled "The Vampyre Blogs - Two For the Road" coming later this year. At the moment we're aiming for a late September/early October release to coincide with the Halloween season.  After all, what better time of year to release stories about a vampyre and his friends? 

As always we thank you for coming and reading our tales, and supporting our efforts. Please remember to share this site and tell others about the Vampyre Blogs and the Para-Earth book series. We have much more coming and are looking forward to entertaining you with many more stories and adventures.

Take care and happy reading everyone!

E-Journal of Nathanlie Eoghan Steward October 11, 2018 “GHOSTS” - Part VII

 

In that same moment, Roscoe turns to me and says, “I’d be honored if you would. But with one condition!” He then points to the cannisters still in my hands, “Start with that one!”

I look up at him and ask, “Why this one?”

“Hey, I went to a lot of trouble to finish that one,” he explains, “And your time to shine has been way overdue, pal.”

“No one’s going to see me,” I point out, “That’s why we had to scrap the whole idea of making more movies together, remember?”

“Yeah, but today’s technology can capture your image,” he grins back, “And I know you’ve already made a couple of appearances in those Hallmark and Lifetime adaptations of your work. Don’t be afraid to do some more. Show ‘em what me, Al, Mae, the Marx Brothers and the rest I taught you! And have a blast, while you’re doing it! Remember. I’ll be in the audience cheering you on with Lisa, Otto and the rest of that big old extended family you got.”

Looking at that big, huge smile on his face, along with Lisa beaming at me, there’s no way I can say no. So, I don’t.

“All right,” I concede. “But I have to know one thing. HOW, can you be here? You don’t have any unfinished business, do you? I mean if you do, I’ll do everything…” but he’s already shaking his head.

“It’s nothing like that,” he chuckles, “You just don’t know your own strength.”

Once again, I find myself shaking my head. “How do you mean?”

“Do you remember how you had to put the bite on me that one time to save my life when those thugs tried to burn down the theater with everyone in it?”

“All too well,” I sigh. That had been the night he had learned the truth about me and my condition. He’d been seriously hurt and wasn’t going to last long enough for the ambulance to arrive and take him to the hospital, so I’d done to him what I had once done to Richard and a number of others. I’d bitten him and put a bit of myself into him in the process, using my powers and will to keep him alive. This also meant a special mental and emotional bond had been formed between us, one that always allowed me to know if that person was in danger or needed me in some other way. It was a bond that would only be severed when that person passed on. Or so I had always thought.

I looked up at Roscoe who was smiling fondly at me, “News flash! That bond of friendship, doesn’t always end at the grave.”

After several seconds of stunned silence, I breathed the words, “Thank God!” and meant every word.

I could hear Brian starting to make his way back towards us, so I said quickly. “But it only works with the people…”

“You gave a bit of yourself to,” my old friend finishes for me. “The rest are exactly what you thought. Made up from your memories of them. But me and a few others will always be here for you.”

“Thank you,” I reply and give him a huge hug, just before Brian rejoins us.

“I cannot believe you’ve had all these films restored and transferred, without telling me!” my godson exclaims, as he comes over to me. “People have been scouring the world for a complete copy or at least pieces of some of these films, for decades. You have to share these with the world! Do you realize the number of archivists, celebrities, and other important figures who’d come pounding at your door get just a glimpse of some of these?”

To be honest, I’d never really thought about that before. Such an event would certainly bring a lot of people to Pointer. They would need places to stay, eat, and shop, during their visit. And with Pointer’s parks, forests and historic sites, there’d plenty of other things for our visitors to explore.

Such an event could really revitalize the town. I mean I’ve done what I could to improve the community with donations and other events, but this could really put us back on the map.

But simply showing the films, didn’t feel like enough to me. I wanted to give people something more, something special and really memorable…

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Roscoe and Lisa. He’s teaching her a few of his dance moves from one of his more famous films, “The Cook”. And that gives me an idea…

BONUS MATERIAL: Clip from Roscoe Fatty Arbuckle's Silent Film "The Cook"

Fatty Arbuckle, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

TO BE CONCLUDED...