Mine...Yours Pt. 01

He looked slightly embarrassed; "I do have to admit, that after making and sampling all of my combinations, human blood has lost a great deal of interest for me. It's like comparing a...what do you call it? Uhmm. Ah! A happy meal to a home cooked meal. It always tastes better when you make it yourself!"

I guess I am telling you about William because I wanted you to know that I at least have a basic grasp of WEIRD. That way you will believe me when I say that all the people down there moving in my new neighbors were not exactly...normal. Each one of the big bruisers moving furniture at the direction of two women was obviously animal like. It was like a superimposed picture of a man with a glow of an animal man around him. Seriously, how would YOU describe it? I am trying but it's hard to put into words! One of the women was a large Nordic blonde type. I mean large not as in "I have to waddle through doors carefully because of my stomach." But large as in, "I walk through doors sideways and crouch because my shoulders and forehead will utterly destroy your doorframe!"

She was gorgeous in a stern police officer way. You know, the kind you wished would arrest you and feel you up while your handcuffed. I shuddered and felt my teeth clench in anger as I thought that. How nice Greg...hasn't even met your neighbors yet and you already are trying to make yourself hate them. Good job! I had to swallow a couple of times to rid my throat of bile and continued watching. The Nordic babe was definitely like the mover's, but her animal specter was much grander than the others and seemed almost solid. It suddenly turned and looked right at me! A second later, Blondie followed suit and was staring right at me!

Well, what to do? I set my axe by the wall, moved more into full view and wished I had put on a shirt to make a better impression. I smiled without showing my teeth and waved. She gave a half-grin and waved back and turned her head to bark more orders. (He HE! Bark!) Though the animal image was still watching me as I stepped away from the window. I wished I had gotten a better look at the other one, all I saw was a little slip of a brown haired woman with a weird hazy thing going on. I only saw her from the back, but it looked like heat waves were coming off of her. Ah well. I called my mom.

"Hello Gregory! Is that you?"

"Yes Mom, you know it's me from the caller ID."

"Oh, well I didn't have my glasses on. So what do you need?"

"Couldn't I have just called to talk to you Mom?"

"True, you could have but most of the time it's to ask me something...did you call to talk?"

Sigh,"No, I need to ask you something." I feel like such a bad son. I hear mom giggling. How a woman who is over fifty can giggle and it still sound adorable astounds me!

"So, what can I do for you Greg?" Mom asked.

"Well, I have neighbors just now moving in..."

"That's good! Now you can have someone to socialize with besides that older vampire gentleman. It would do you some good to hang out with regular folk instead of all of those ghost and gobliny type people. I blame it on the fact that you work at night! All sorts of things come out at night! Why, did you know that..."

I had to stop the rant, even though it was a good rant I HAD to head it off before mom got rolling and I would forget why I even called her in the first place!

"Mom that's great, I understand but the reason I called was, when do you bring your neighbors a gift. What should I give?" I asked.

"What kind of gift?"

"I don't know, that's why I am asking."

"What do you want to say with the gift?"

"I uhh...don't know. Like, welcome to the neighborhood I guess."

"Food is always good and appreciated. Don't bring beer or alcohol especially if women are involved it will give the wrong idea. Should be something simple for them to eat because they probably don't have all of their dishes and cups unpacked yet. Does that help sweetie?"

I thought for a moment, yeah...that's good advice. "Thanks Mom, I can work with that." I heard her laugh.

"Alright now honey, glad I could help." There was a pause and I could almost hear her concern coming over the phone.

"Are you doing alright Gregory? I know we saw you last week, but we don't talk all that much..."she let the thought trail off.

"Yeah Mom. I appreciate the concern, but I am taking each day as it comes. No problems yet, and yes, if something comes up you and Dad will be the first people I call."

"All right Gregory. I know you have to go, I love you sweetie."

"I love you too Mom." I heard her little coo she gives when I said that I loved her and she told me goodbye before she hung up.

Next stop, pantry. I had decided on cookies and Coke. I had a twelve pack in the fridge and all the makings for cookies in the pantry. My Dad used to pay me to make them for him. A cup of coffee and two cookies in the morning were what he usually took for breakfast. They were oatmeal with semi-sweet chocolate chips, dark chocolate chips, milk chocolate chips, white chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, finely chopped dates and the final ingredient was shredded coconut. Yeah, in case you are wondering, they are good. Ask me some time and I will give you the recipe. I usually make a lot for myself and freeze them and eat them the same way my Dad does. For the neighbors, I'll make fresh and save what's left for myself.

Couple hours later my first batch of cookies was loaded up in an old pizza box I cleaned out for the occasion, after lining it with paper towels. I honestly did not have a plate large enough to hold three dozen cookies comfortably. I mean, come on! I'm a bachelor! Sometimes I am surprised I even have a plate other than paper plates.

I threw on a clean t-shirt and jeans, put on a pair of sneaker slip-ons and walked next door. Was I nervous? Hell yes! Was it because of what I saw when I used my Sight? Nope! Plain and simple I did not like most people and usually wanted to be left alone. Then why am I doing this? I go over now; the expectation of neighborly duties should be out of the way.

They will not feel like they have to come and see me. They will not have to return anything I am giving them, and since contact will be made they will not feel like they have to come over and contact me. I can walk by and just wave and keep on walking like all the other people do to me on my street. There will be no expectations. If things go well, I can show up, give the food, get some names, and then let them go back to work. Then I can go and get a couple hours of sleep and go to work.

I exit my fence, walk over to the neighbor's yard balancing the pizza box on one hand and holding the coke in the other. It seems that everyone is inside, though most of the cars are gone. The sun has gone down a ways and it is now late after noon. I walk up to the front door and while carefully balancing everything hit the doorbell and wait. Then I hear a voice behind me say, "We didn't order a pizza and you do NOT look like a deliveryman!"

I look over my shoulder and see a tall, dark woman with an Afro haircut looking daggers at me! Not just dark, but black, and I mean really black. "I uhh..I..." I stammered.

"So who are you?" She continued talking right over me, and began walking closer still staring into my eyes. "Like I said, we didn't order pizza, I don't smell pizza coming from that box, you don't look like a deliveryman, all this means you're a trespasser a person who is NOT invited! So why don't you do yourself a favor and get the FUCK out of here right now!"

Well, at least I knew for sure they wouldn't be over to visit me! If I was a hermit, these new neighbors of mine were like those isolationist people who build fortresses in the Rocky Mountains waiting for the Russians to invade! I make them look downright friendly! I gave the woman a once over and didn't even bother activating my sight since I would probably have no contact with her again. Then with a shrug I turned and set the pizza box and coke on the doorstep and said, "Whatever, welcome to the neighborhood." Then started walking away.

"Hey!" A voice called behind me, I slowed and half turned to see the Nordic chick at the door looking at me, then wave me back. She glanced at the black woman and said quietly, "Really Jemima? You can be such a bitch sometimes!" She turned her bright blue eyes back to me. "Hey neighbor. I saw you looking out your window and wave earlier. What's up?" I shrugged. "Brought gifts, say Hi. I did it, so enjoy. See you around." I turned and started walking back home. Yeah, might have been rude but I was flustered. Usually people got to know me first before they told me to F off! Was I overly sensitive, I don't know, I just knew that I was not all that comfortable and wanted to go home? I do know that I was angry.

I could hear them talking behind me, "Hilda! How was I supposed to know he was our neighbor?! I was asleep until a little bit ago!" The black woman, I guess Jemima is her name said.

"I see, so bringing over a pizza and drinks looked so suspicious you had to get in his face like that? Actually that smells like cookies...COOKIES? Oh gods that smells good!" I turned slightly and saw a beatific smile on; I guess she must be Hilda's, face. She had crumbs on her cheek.

"They're still warm, and oh, I think I just came a little from that bite! You go over and apologize to him right NOW! We can't have someone who makes cookies like this not like us!"

Jemima huffed. "It's not like I can eat those, and they smell terrible to me! You like them so much you make nice, I am going inside to get something to drink!" I chuckled as I saw Hilda pick up another cookie from the box, she saw me and waved at me with the hand holding the cookie giving me a nod since her mouth was full. I gave a quick wave and continued around the corner into the path of a mountain bike! I grabbed it by handlebars and heard the rider give a squeak of surprise and pain as I gripped the handlebars tightly through her hands. The front tire now rested between my thighs and I gave a shout of surprise as I cinched down harder. I looked up to see the rider...

Cute... Almost sickeningly cute. Cute little button nose, cute little dimpled cheeks, cute little rosebud mouth. I had to close my eyes from the sugar overload of her looks! When I opened them I was still looking at her, but her mouth was open and staring at me. Now, I have been stared at before. Usually when I do something stupid, or like when William first met me, when he was trying to figure me out. This was, strange. Her mouth was a little open and she was panting, initially I thought it was just the adrenaline rush of running into someone on your bike. Her eyes though never left mine, and she was gripping her little hands tighter to the handlebars than when I had been grabbing them.

Oh yeah. I look down at where my big hands are squeezing her tiny ones onto the grips. I gently let go and grab the front of the bike and move to the side holding it up with her on it. Her eyes followed me, and I could see sweat beading on her forehead. That just didn't look right, she looked as if she was scared. "You ok, lady?" I asked. She gave a little jump in her seat and seemed to shake the cobwebs out of her head with that action. She looked at me again and just seemed contemplative for a moment.

"Yes." She replied drawing out the word. Now she didn't look scared, more curious. Kind of like, nope got nothing, I honestly don't know how you can go from looking so scared you could piss yourself to curious about the same subject in a matter of seconds. "What's going on here? You okay Gwen?" I heard Hilda say from behind me. Well I guess that explains the not scared anymore part.

Gwen never took her eyes off me, and I saw her raise her hand and start to move it to touch me on the forearm. At that point my head and body were now talking to each other and I stepped back before she could make contact. "Careful going around corners, I think I proved that just now." I said. Man, all this talking was making my throat sore. I nodded to Gwen and Hilda, started to keep on walking.

"Hey!" the small woman, Gwen, called out. I turned slightly, still walking away. "What's you're name?" She asked. "Greg, see ya. Enjoy the cookies." As I was leaving I could hear them talking.

"We have cookies? Oreos?" Gwen asked.

"Nope, home made good ones!" Hilda replied.

"Home made? HE cooks?"

"Must be. They are fresh, warm and I smell only him on them. No one else handled them."

I almost tripped and fell over. I was right, not completely human. Well, looks like that's the last I will see of them. Even though I got to admit. That's the most fun I have had in a while.

Chapter 2: Internal Perspective.

I have always hated winding staircases. Nothing against them personally, and they look pretty and all, just don't like using them. They always make me feel like I am a prisoner, trapped, being led down or up to a place I really don't want to go. Kind of like now. I have been walking this stairway for a while now, leading down, and down to a place I have no desire to go. It's important though. I go there once a week to help keep my sanity, such as it is, intact. I finally reach bottom, and in the lowlight of this basement floor I see the Door. Still locked tight with a spinning wheel that pushes four rods from the center of the door outwards to fit into eighteen-inch deep sockets. Each rod is made from a heavy-duty steel alloy and is four inches in diameter. The wheel is similar to that of an old time bank vault, and is wrapped in a chain that is all of one piece, it's end links fused together to form one unit. I know this door intimately for I have inspected it many times, just like I am doing now.

I take the grease gun and carefully coat the hinges, working the product into the grooves of metal. I inspect the rods, looking for any sign of rust or corrosion. I come to the wheel and lubricate its workings, giving it a test turn with the little bit of play it has from the chain. I want to make sure the mechanism still works, for one day I am going to open this door and deal with the consequences it brings, but not today. The noise of the wheel alerts the prisoners and I hear a very familiar voice call out.

"Hey! Greg? You come down here to say "Hi!" Is it that time of the week already?" His voice sounds a little raspy, but not from disuse. I nod my head then realize he can't see me so I move to the door and slide open one of the two slots in it. I see eyes, so very similar to my own look out at me. "Hey Greg! Good to see you! You got time to talk for a bit?" I nod and grab a folding chair leaning against the wall and set it up so I can see him and he can see me. I pull out a pack of Marlboros and hand him the pack and a book of matches. Then pull out a can of grizzly wintergreen and put a quid in my own lip. He lights up and takes a long soothing drag and gives a little laugh as he exhales.

"You know, I still hear bits and pieces of life down here." He told me. I shrug. His eyes narrow, conspiratorially. "You do realize that your neighbors are not what they seem!" I smile a little, allowing humor to fill my eyes. Damn it feels good to feel humor again! He sees me smile and his own lips break into a wide grin. "Hah! That looks good on you my friend! You should do it more often." He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and I can see him lean forward more. "Seriously though man. You know that big blonde is a werewolf right?" I nod. "That Jemima chick, I get the same vibe from her that I get from William. That last one, the one that looks like she's a walking heat distortion...I'd bet my last smoke she's a witch!"

A witch? Never ran into one of those before, at least, not to my knowledge. Huh. I ask, "How do you know this stuff? I only started knowing this crap a couple years ago. You weren't even around when I got my Sight." I stepped back from the door for a second and I heard his fist pound lightly for a moment on the inside of the Door. "It's like this Greg," he began. "I am not the only person locked up in here. Also, there's something else in here that I know you're curious about, but when you locked the two of us up in here, you locked it away too! Dumbass." The last word was said quietly and I could see him breathe out the smoke of his last inhale.

His eyes appeared again, a lot wider and a little strained. "There's knowledge you need in here my man. You locked it up along with everything you valued, and it is the one thing that will save your ass down the line! I know why you did it, I understand! But Dude! Get over yourself, and embrace the pain that you have made us get stuck with for the last six years! I know she betrayed you, I know she threw you down and curb stomped you! I have been sitting in this shit for all this time and you just come down here to..." he stopped as I stood up.

"Hey, DON"T GO!" He shouted. His arm, dirty and black as if with soot pushed out through the small slot. "If I am stuck here in this damn black box you will at least LOOK at me when I am TALKING to YOU!" I put the folded chair aside and started walking towards the spiral stairs. Then I heard a small voice that froze me in my tracks. "Talk to me please?" It was a child's voice, and I was helpless before it. I turned and walked back, and knelt down by the lower slot. I opened it, and a grubby little boys face peered out at me. I could see a dull blue light behind him, but it did not put his face in shadow. He hadn't aged since I had placed him along with the other person in the cell.

"I get kind of lonely in here sometimes, and when you come to visit, the other guy is always taking up your time and I feel left out." He said this almost bashfully, looking down at something he was twisting in his hands. "Sorry about that," I replied. "He can be kind of demanding for my attention." My throat choked up looking at this little boy, and it had nothing to do with not using my voice much. Of all the things I regretted locking away, this was the one I regretted the most. This innocent and trusting child. It killed me every time I talk with him. I knew that once I ascended the stair I would not feel it anymore, but for now I relished feeling anything, even if it hurt a little.

His bright eyes looked up at me again, and he held his hands out to me, and a dark blue light filled his palms. "I saved this for you, I thought you might like it." I smiled and tentatively took it in my own hands. "Thanks, I'll send it back to you when I am done with it." He frowned when I said that. "Why don't you keep it? I made it for you to have!" His eyes teared up a little bit. I swallowed, hard, to make the lump in my throat go away. "Because I can't keep it all the time with me, it will get in the way of what I have to do. I will enjoy it though, and I do appreciate it." The younger version of me sighed.

"We have to stay locked up for how much longer?" he asked. "Only another year. Then I will open the door and let you both out." His eyes grew haunted, and he murmured. "It's going to really hurt when that happens isn't it? All that pain and rage at what she did...wow." I could feel tears beginning to fall down my cheeks, but it wasn't me crying, it was the younger version of myself on the other side of the Door. He held his hand through, and I grasped it. "Don't forget about me?" My Trust asked. "Never!" I replied. Through the top slot, another hand came down and I grasped it as well. "Please, never forget me!" My sense of Justice pleaded.

For one brief moment I felt complete! I felt whole, with the missing parts of me filling in the craters of my soul. My back straightened and my eyes filled with life. I could feel my blood flowing in my veins, coursing through my body with every beat of my heart! Joy filled me and I felt as I did before the tragedy, before my honor was besmirched! At the corner of my eye I could feel a calling, a voice, a power reaching to me. Then I let go of the hands, slammed the slots back in place and silence filled the dingy little basement. I held the fluttering blue memory in the palm of my hand that my younger self gave me. I let it sink in, and remembered a pleasant afternoon playing with an electric car racetrack with my Dad when I was very young.