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Archive for April, 2024
Sloane 4
Once the vampires who killed her parents were dead, Sloane had time to think of other things. She worked hard, to get in shape. She studied and had dinner with Miles every evening. They talked about what was going on in the world and she started to recognize what was important and what was not. What could lead to trouble, or who was getting rich from things. She knew who was suffering and why. Their conversations sometime became intense and while he was happy because of it, he told her she had to control her passion when on a job. She had to stick to light and non-threatening topics. She understood what he was trying to tell her.
Devin was part of her life, as was Marie. Devin flirted with her, teased her, taught her how to fight and how to kill people in more ways than one can imagine. She got stronger and faster. She felt powerful.
She rarely went out, by choice, and hardly noticed that a several years had passed. One night, at dinner, Miles told her there would be company for dinner on Saturday. He told her that when she went back to her room, a dress would be on her bed. She was to wear it to dinner on Saturday. The man who would be joining them was not to be trusted. He asked her to look for flaws in his story, lies, or misdirection. He also said she was becoming beautiful and was no longer a child.
She shrugged. “So? Everyone grows up.”
“Yes my dear,” said Miles, “but some grow up much better than others.”
“Will the man be dangerous when he comes to dinner?”
“Men are always dangerous.”
“You know what I mean. Do you think he will try anything violent while he’s here?”
“I seriously doubt it, but it’s always best to be ready, don’t you agree?”
She nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
“I would expect nothing less. I am constantly getting good reports about everything you do. And your French is almost flawless.”
“After all these years, what did you expect?”
“Still. I’m proud of you.”
“Is Saturday night a test.”
“Life is a test, but yes. I think it’s time you start working.”
“Okay. Why is he coming here?”
“There’s a business deal in the works.”
“And?”
“We know better than to trust each other. Still, it’s a good deal and neither of wants to let it go. My people are stronger than his, but a fight between us wouldn’t benefit anyone.”
“So, I’ll be there to keep the peace and smile?”
“Just be yourself,” he snickered. “I’m sure that will be fine.”
The dress on her bed was long, tight and red. She sighed. Don’t people get tired of the same old thing, she muttered. There were shoes, if you can call a bunch of straps shoes, and a velvet box, as well.
“Diamonds?” she guessed. “Rubies?” She opened the box. “Ah, diamonds and rubies. Earrings too.”
Marie tapped on her door.
“Come in.”
“I see you’ve found everything.”
“Do I really have to wear all this?”
“Yes. And, I’ll do your hair.”
“What? Do my hair? What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing, but you need a more mature style.”
“Great,” she said, sitting down on the bed. Even my hair has a job.”
“You’ll look beautiful.”
“Not really my thing,” she said.”
“Devin said you’re pretty tough.”
Sloane smiled. “I’m getting there.”
“That’s high praise from Devin, believe me.”
“Do you still miss your mother?”
“My parents died so long ago, I barely remember them. Mr. Miles found me living on the street. I was so hungry I was eating garbage and fighting with dogs for scraps. This was long ago, during a war. He took me home and fed me and I’ve been with him ever since. He’s a good man.”
“Is that how he got Devin as well?”
“That’s Devin’s story to tell,” she said, hanging up the dress.”
“You don’t have to wait on me all the time. I can take care of myself and you can go and read, or something.”
Marie burst into laughter. “Thank you, but this is my job.”
“I suppose I’ll get used to having dinner with people. Being around them, listening to them, and killing them.”
“You will. That’s your job.”
Sloane nodded. “It is.”
***
Saturday arrived more quickly than she would have liked. She couldn’t believe that the person she saw in the mirror was her.”
“Wow,” said Devin. “Maybe I’m not too old for you, after all.”
“This isn’t me,” she said.
“Oh, sweetie, it is so you.”
“When I have to go on assignment are you coming with me?”
“Now that you’re older, and can handle things on your own, you won’t need me.”
“I think that too. So, do you know what we’re having for dinner?”
“The usual, I would guess,” he said, fixing the clasp on her necklace. “They are having blood, possibly mixed with a little red wine, and a few bits of very thin, very bloody raw meat. You will be having wine and sweet and sour tofu. But I’m not positive.”
“It’s weird that Miles and I have dinner every night and Miles doesn’t eat.”
“Food makes us sick,” sighed Devin. “I still miss it though. And there’s something about sharing a meal that brings people closer together, if you know what I mean. “Well, it’s time for you to go,” he said. “Don’t worry about a thing. You look gorgeous and you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Anything, baby, anything at all. I taught you well.”
“Ego much.”
He snickered. “A little maybe. Just don’t fall off your shoes.”
“I’ve been practicing with shoes, so I’m good.”
***
“Ah,” said Miles, standing. “Thank you Devin. Mr. Morgan, this is my lovely niece, Sloane.”
Mr. Morgan bowed slightly. “A pleasure.”
“The pleasure is mine,” she said, lowering her eyes, holding out her hand.
Mr. Morgan took her hand and kissed it, as Miles stood behind her, waiting to seat her.
The dinner went surprisingly well. She smiled and laughed, in all the right places. She was charming and intelligent, well versed in the politics of the world and well read, able to chat about almost everything.
“My uncle tells me you’re interested in aliens, Mr. Morgan. We have that in common,” she said, encouragingly. “The topic is truly fascinating.”
“I think they have been here from the beginning,” said Mr. Morgan. “Your government is planning a fake landing to frighten people into giving up the last vestiges of their freedom.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He looked at her, then smiled.
“It’s impossible to believe that we have advanced so quickly, in just two hundred years, without outside help,” she said.
“That’s true,” he said softly, leaning forward. “All people have a story of their gods landing from the sky and teaching them. Sky gods, aliens, call them what you like, but they are not from out world.”
“Indeed, they are not. And many believe they are in government and positions of power all over the world.”
“It’s true,” he said, nodding. “They are.”
Marie walked into the room and said, “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Sloane is needed elsewhere.”
Miles stood up, as Sloane pushed her chair back. Mr. Morgan stood as well.
“You have made this a most enjoyable evening,” said Mr. Morgan, bowing, once again. “I am envious of your uncle to have such a talented niece.”
“Thank you. I consider my self fortunate to have such a wonderful uncle. “Until we meet again,” she said. “Safe journey.”
Back in her room, she slipped out of her dress and put on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top.
“You were brilliant,” said Marie, delightedly.
“It’s my job.”
“Mr. Miles will be so pleased.”
Two hours later, Miles was at her door.
“Enter,” she said, dramatically.
He was smiling. “I hardly know what to say. You were amazing. You had him eating out of your hand in no time. He would have spent the night talking with you. After you left we discussed business and he was relaxed and in a good frame of mind because of having been with you. I’m starting to think you’re my secret weapon.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit.”
“This is for you,” he said, attaching a diamond bracelet to her wrist.
“Miles,” she moaned. “You don’t have to give me presents. I’m not a diamond kind of person.”
“It’s for when I start taking you out.”
“Out?”
“Now that you’re older, it’s time the others see you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Why?
boys
have to be
TAUGHT
to fight and kill
because it’s not
a natural part of being
it’s so unnatural
that the men who return
are often never the same
Post Traumatic Stress
can destroy lives
so the world
is filled with the
walking wounded
men and women
who could have had
normal
healthy lives
living in isolation
over reacting
waking up in the middle of the night
with nightmares
while the men who start the wars
are safe and sound
never traumatized
or wounded
or killed
never afraid
or holding their dying friend
in their arms
WHY
do we continue
to do this
for those ugly
egomaniacs
Photo: Alexander Jawfox
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Rethinking Life 
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