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IAP Journal Entry
February 9, 2011 - 4:15am

They say timing is everything. Other popular phrases include 'a time and place for everything', 'all in good time', 'time heals all wounds', and 'times, they are a changin'. Right now the most apropos phrase would be 'desperate times call for desperate measures' underscored by a heavy emphasis on 'if you're not with us, you're against us'.

-#-#-

Being under scrutiny was nothing new for me, but it wasn't something I liked. I remembered every time my classmates had ever looked at me funny, and all the times my teachers' gazes were a little more intent on me than the other kids. It seemed like there was an unspoken acknowledgement from everyone that they knew I was different, but it wasn't something that could be brought up politely. My mom handled most of the questions everyone had and did her best to keep me in the dark, but I wasn't one to like not knowing things.

This brand of scrutiny, from a nameless customer no less, was different than anything I'd experienced before. I felt like an ant under a magnifying glass, and it made me more than nervous - it was making me downright paranoid. My conversation with Dane stopped mid-thought. So long as the guy with blue eyes was sitting at the bar, I didn't want to risk him hearing me more clearly than he already might have. I didn't even know what he'd overheard, to be honest, but the way his eyes seemed to follow me around from that point forward meant I'd definitely attracted his attention.

And considering this was someone who could have been a poster boy for the 'hide in plain sight' philosophy, the attention was definitely not a good thing. So I kept my head down and looked everywhere but at him, not even when I was serving a couple all but hanging off the bar counter in the seats to his left.

Nothing happened, of course. He stayed for an hour or so, which I can't be more certain of because I didn't see him leave. What I did know was that he had noticed me, and I would have set house odds on the fact that it wasn't because of my looks. Being slightly busty, brown eyed, and honey-haired got me lots of everyday admirers. But there was no way that blue-eyes was an everyday guy.

Of course, I had no proof, so it's not like I told anyone besides Cara. Of everyone at Gold Dust, she was the closest thing I'd had to a best friend since Kory, who could have been my long-lost sister, had moved away in the third grade.

And Cara, while understanding and supportive, wasn't exactly helpful in brainstorming realistic, or at least likely, possibilities as to blue-eyes intentions. But it was a great way to pass the time while everyone else sorted themselves out.

The days following the vampire announcement were different than the days before them. It's not the first time people ever felt drawn closer together. Or like something so global had made an impact not just on the world but on them, personally. But it was the first time that people were confronted by something completely outside their typical willingness to believe. Lots of life insurance policies were taken out, after everyone made certain that death-by-vampire would be covered. Church attendance skyrocketed as people sought both comfort and answers. Vampire 'experts' were consulted by otherwise respected news media outlets, and the more far-fetched the theories, the more they were played on repeat.

Crazier than any of that were the people who went looking for the vampires. Cara and Andy got into a heated argument over it after a patron had spent the better part of an evening talking about how amazing it would be to be immortal. While some people were speculating about whether or not vampires had souls, if they were demons, and more importantly how could you be safe from them, others were touting them as, quote, 'enlightened beings'. Stephanie Meyer reportedly had to hire round the clock security because fanatics kept demanding to know where Edward was, or insisting that it wasn't right for her to be keeping him to herself, no matter how many times she went out in public and said he was just fictional.

Then reports began circulating that government officials were in talks with vampire 'residents'. No one said what the talks were about, just that they were happening. It sparked an entirely new rash of theories, all of which seemed even crazier simply for the fact that, overnight, people seemed to stop noticing that less than a month beforehand anyone discussing the existence of vampires as fact would have been escorted to a rubber room.

It was something Allison and I talked about candidly, on a daily basis, until she was convinced she couldn't change my mind about not telling my grandfather.

Allison had been a fixture for the last three years, since 2008, after my grandfather had suffered a stroke one day before work. He'd been a doctor of dentistry, a dentist in layman's terms, with an easy going personality and who was well known and respected in the town he'd made his home. The unexpected death of my grandmother when I was three left a big hole in the family, so my mom decided to move back in and keep everyone together. Twenty years later and here I still was, partly because it was comfortable, partly because I'd decided to go to bartending classes instead of college, but mostly because there were things about my life that made the known much more appealing than striking out on my own. I didn't know my Dad and since my mom had passed in a car accident five years ago, just a couple months before my 18th birthday, without ever telling anyone who he had been made it pretty certain I would never know. All she'd ever said about him was that she didn't regret it, and that I was the best thing that had happened to her. My mom had been a hard worker, just like my grandfather, and the two of them had taught me the value of dedication and self-sufficiency. And both had done the best they could to be reassuring when my unique problems began to be more of an issue effecting my day to day life.

"He doesn't deserve to be kept in the dark, Rachel," Allison said gently, though not for the first time, taking advantage of the fact my grandfather happened to be napping while I straightened up in the kitchen one day after lunch. The 'vampire outing' had happened almost two weeks ago, and the day to day had resumed its rhythm once everyone realized that life was going to keep going on.

"What he doesn't deserve," I countered to Allison, "is outliving both his wife and daughter." We talked while I scrubbed out the pan I had cooked in, tiny bubbles forming between my fingers.

She crossed her arms and frowned at me. "No one deserves that." When I didn't say anything else, her expression softened. I could almost see the tension draining out of her as she switched approaches. "But don't you think he should know that there's something amazing in this world? That life can still surprise us?"

"I don't think he'd see it that way." I set the sponge down and turned on the spigot to rinse the suds away.

"Why do you say that, hon?"

Because he spent my entire teenage life telling me I was special - just and simply special - and that there were lots of special people because special really meant precious. Special wasn't something to be afraid of because monsters and freaks were only what people labeled them, and people could be plain mean about it, sure, but that would never make monsters real. "Because I think he'd see it as being kept in the dark his entire life." I set the pot in the drying rack next to the sink and reached for the dish towel to dry my hands.

Allison watched me, not saying anything until I hung the towel up and turned to face her. "It's your decision, sweetie, but I think-"

I cut her off as kindly as possible. "Allison, you're a great nurse, and my grandfather likes you. I like you. And I know you're trying to look out for his well-being, but I want you to take my word on this - he doesn't need to know."

Her frown returned and I could tell she was hurt by my attitude, but her professionalism caught up to her before she said anything else. Still, her agreement was expectedly terse because she was frustrated by what she wasn't understanding. She left me to finish cleaning up, which didn't take long, and I did my best to keep to myself until I needed to leave for work.

Work was what had changed the most after the vampire's announcement. Lots more people were drinking these days, and liquor always shortened fuses. We'd placed more calls to the local police in the last two weeks than in the last six months, and it was starting to wear on everyone. Me especially.

Which is probably why I never made any other attempts at pointing out the vampire that kept visiting the bar. I didn't really know whether or not he was a vampire, but he was really pale and never seemed to drink a drop of what he ordered, which at least was always something after that first night. The first few times I saw him, I wondered if I should start carrying some of the garlic infused pepper-spray that had shown up on the market almost overnight. But after a week of nonchalant visits I started looking forward to them - because every time I saw him he was the calmest person in the room. It was… soothing.

In a very creepy way.

Tonight was a Friday night. The first Friday in June, 2011. Last year it had meant university kids consoling themselves about finals, a few teenagers trying to buy alcohol with fake IDs, and a very harsh learning curve about customers and their willingness to be patient for their orders. I felt like a veteran now with a year of bartending behind me, but it didn't do much to prepare me for what I'd face that particular Friday.

Dane had the night off, so my company was the normal run of servers, one 'show' bartender that had been hired purely for their ability to juggle mixing cups without dropping them - not as impressive as it sounds since the ice to chill them makes the caps stick really well after you shake them a few times - Margie, the other regular bartender, and a very, very tense, very, very thirsty crowd that seemed bent on testing how much the bouncers were willing to enforce the fire-code occupancy limits.

Three hours passed in a blur of bottles, sweat, and shattered glasses. I was grateful someone had thought to have Mike as an extra simply for clean-up duties rather than depending on the servers to fill in when needed. Everyone looked like they were ready to drop by the time 11 o'clock rolled around, but we had three more hours until close.

When I was finally eligible to take a fifteen minute break, I really needed to get some air. So even though I knew it would take five minutes to cut through the crowd to get over to the elevators, I did it anyway. The employee garage was about the only place I could count on for a few genuinely quiet moments, so it was worth the time to get there. My intention was to blast the air conditioning and listen to nothing but the fans for five minutes of serenity before needing to head back upstairs into the crowd.

Of course, the five minutes passed too quickly. As the elevator doors slid shut behind me for the second time in ten minutes, I leaned back against the side wall and closed my eyes. When the 'ding' sounded to announce the main floor, I stole an extra second of not moving to savor the chilled air of the elevator and ignore the tidal wave of emotions that was radiating off of everyone. I exited more briskly than I meant to, already mentally preparing myself for enduring the couple hours until we could close.

Cutting through the crowd was a trick, but I managed not to get myself knocked over or knocked up, though that was a near thing at one point when I passed a breath of calm in the chaos of the room. I looked right toward them, thinking that it would be the same person I'd seen sitting at the bar almost every night since the vampire outing. My eyes connected with theirs expecting to look into cool blue, not the pair of unassuming brown irises I found looking back at me. The man who owned them smiled lightly, but it wasn't the kind of smile I was used to seeing. It wasn't friendly, or flirtatious, or even plastered like most people when they know they're expected to smile. Amused, kind of, like the guy was in on a joke no one else could hear and it made him feel bigger than the rest of us. Put simply, his eyes, his smile, the guy in general, made me nervous and edgy.

He had his arm wrapped around the waist of a girl that seemed to be half out of it and leaning against him for support. I was just about to move past them when I noticed the girl's neck. There weren't any visible puncture wounds and it didn't look as though she was actively bleeding, but a streak of red was smeared just below where her jaw met her neck.