Interview at a Parisian Restaurant

"Merci, chér," said Diane.

"Surprisingly, I don't find it a lot different than being human.

"We have abilities and powers that humans don't. We're a lot stronger. Not long ago I threw a man the size of a NFL linebacker against his truck hard enough to break a fair number of bones." A look of malign pleasure crossed her face.

"I once hit someone with a small car," Georges added.

I swallowed a nervous gulp at that revelation.

Diane went on. "We're faster than humans as well. I can do a hundred metre sprint in about six seconds. Our reflexes are somewhat faster than humans."

Georges chuckled. "Not fast enough to dodge bullets though."

She turned to smile at him. "Charging into a room like that? Not surprising."

"You were in danger. I wasn't thinking very well."

Diane's smile grew very warm. "Thank you for that."

Returning her attention to me she continued her lesson. "Our senses are sharper. We can see almost as well in the dark as a human can in the day. Our senses of smell, touch and hearing are more sensitive as well. We are predators, after all.

"We've abilities that humans don't have."

"Such as?" I inquired.

Diane looked at me, and the most intense lust hit me. My jaw dropped and there was an instant reaction in my groin. I'll bet my eyes glazed over.

That ended as quickly as it started.

She chuckled. "We're usually more subtle than that."

"We can do this," Georges cut in. He held up a hand, and two inch long claws grew from his fingernails. "I can take gouges out of a steel sheet with these."

I barely managed to suppress a 'Yipe!' at the sight of a vampire's armament. Georges withdrew them with a "Pardon."

Ms. Patterson picked up the thread of her lesson. "We can use the blood in our bodies, to augment and repair ourselves. We can increase our strength, the sensitivity of our senses. Most wounds can be undone in seconds. When used just so, we can move so fast that we can barely be seen."

"There's this ability as well," interjected Georges.

I looked at him, and darkness enfolded him like a fog. There was only a miasma of blackness where he had sat. If he had been in shadows, I wouldn't be able to see him. A start shook me as he reappeared.

"We have to be careful though," Diane went on, "with how we use our blood. If we use too much, we get hungry. maybe even starving. A starving vampire is something to fear. All we'll think about at that point is feeding. We won't be the least kind about how we get our blood.

"Balanced against that is our weaknesses."

"Such as?" I inquired.

"We have to sleep when the sun is up. We can rouse ourselves if there's great danger, but we're not at our best.

"Sunlight is absolutely lethal. If it falls on us we'll burn like sodium in water. In seconds there's little more than a tiny pile of ash.

"We're vulnerable to other things that burn; fire and acid for example. Those wounds are hard to heal. I takes a lot of blood to do so.

"Being shot, clubbed or stabbed isn't much of a burden. It hurts, a lot. But it's easy to repair.

"It would be obvious to someone if we were captured and examined that our bodies are dead. Only our supernatural nature keeps us from rotting. Our hearts don't beat, our lungs don't breath. We don't sweat and we excrete no wastes. And contrary to what you read in many books, our sexual organs don't work at all. Georges can't get an erection, I don't lubricate when I'm excited and I can't conceive. I haven't had a single period since I became a vampire." She smiled with a wry twist. "That's one of the nicest things about being what I am."

"Oh," I succeeded in commenting. "That's why you don't eat human food."

They nodded.

"There are other things that our state prevents us from doing. We can't laugh or cry."

How sad, popped into my mind. For the first time I felt pity for the people sitting across from me.

Something Diane had told me about being undead clashed with a common belief about them. So I asked the question this raised. "You say you can't display any of the physical traits of lust. Then why are vampires so often such sexual beings in legends?"

"Feeding is our orgasmic act," explained Diane. "Our bite heightens the emotional state of our prey. Since we most often hunt by seduction, and are very fond of feeding at the moment of orgasm, it's not surprising legends grew around that fact.

"It's orgasmic for us as well. We don't just taste the blood, we taste the soul. All of what a person is flavours their blood. When in orgasm that taste is heightened, enriched. We enjoy it as much as our prey."

I felt the need to return to our original point about the weaknesses of their kind. "Do crucifixes work?"

Diane chuckled. "Any religious item will work. If the person wielding it actually has faith. Not just belief, faith. Belief has a smidgen of doubt, and that doubt negates the power of the item. The person using it must have bone deep faith." She chuckled again. "There's a lot of people who were surprised when they tried to battle people like Georges and me. For a few moments." Her grin was ferocious at that observation.

A coldness was growing in my gut. I liked my hosts, but it was becoming more and more evident to me that they were not human beings.

Swallowing, I stated, "That shows how different you are from human beings. You claimed it was much the same. I don't see how."

"We have all the emotions of the living," Diane explained. "We feel joy, sadness, happiness, grief." She turned to smile at Georges. "And love."

Turning back she expanded, "If anything those feelings are stronger. I don't think I've ever been bored since I became a vampire. I think, perhaps, being dead is like being reborn every moment.

"And most important, as Georges explained to me before he changed me, is that we have free will. How we act is our choice, and our responsibility. I've discovered that is true."

I stared at them. I'd never considered that vampires might be philosophers and ethicists.

It was time for another question. "I gather from reading the book about you that what I'm seeing is camouflage. May I see what you look like when you're not hiding?"

Both their faces went cold, and they replied "No" with the same breath.

"It's not something for humans to see," Georges explained. "If we showed you, you'd have nightmares for years."

I suspected that was what was going to happen regardless. The cold now ran up my spine and my fine meal sat like a lump in my stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I asked my next question. "Are there other vampires besides you two?"

"Yes," Georges told me.

I waited but he said no more.

This interview was becoming frustrating as well as frightening. They switched back and forth between wordy and closed mouthed with no rhyme or reason I could see. So I asked another question. "Is there a vampire society?"

This time Georges chuckled. "Barely. We generally live in cities. More places to hide and lots of food. One of us is usually elected to help keep the few rules of our kind."

"Such as?"

"If a couple of us get into a conflict over something, the vampire we've chosen makes sure we keep it under control. No major violence or anything that attracts attention from humans.

"That rarely happens. We vampires aren't a horribly competitive people. Perhaps being dead moves us beyond the avarice and pride that causes conflicts in humans. We do often build structures of power, wealth and information. It makes us safer, to know what the humans are doing, being able to affect them. We rarely get crazy about it."

"What other rules do you people have?"

"There's only one important one. Humans cannot know of the existence of vampires in their midst. Those who find out we either kill or turn. Usually we kill them."

"Oh Jesus!" I gasped. I'd just had a death sentence passed on me.

"You needn't worry," said Diane.

I snapped my face towards her. And I fell into her sea green eyes.

Someone was shaking my shoulder very gently. Opening my eyes I wondered, What happened? My head was resting on the table. I had the distinct impression of having forgotten something very important.

"Monsieur?" came a familiar voice, that of the sommeliére. "It's almost dawn."

Sitting up, I looked at her and said, "Thank you." Glancing across the table I remarked, "I guess my hosts never showed up."

"Your guests, Monsieur. The table was booked in your name."

That made me frown. I hadn't reserved this table. I'd come here to meet with someone, they'd asked me here. But once again they had not appeared.

Somehow though, that didn't sound true. I searched my memory. But I had none of speaking to anybody but Marie. I looked at my note book to find it was covered in shorthand scribbles. Reading a little, a quiver of unease shook me. I'd written an interview, one that I must have made up for I didn't recall speaking to anyone the time I was here.

My recorder! Fishing it from my jacket pocket, I found it was turned off. My notes said I had turned it on. I started it up, and there was nothing on it. I couldn't tell if I was relieved or perturbed.

"Are you all right, Monsieur?" queried Marie. There was concern in her voice.

"I must have had a dream while I was sleeping.

"May I get the bill please?" I asked then.

"It was paid for in advance, Monsieur. No need to worry."

"I see." So, my trickster was staying in character. "I'll go then. Merci for a most wonderful meal."

She smiled, "Merci beaucoup. We always endeavor to do our best."

I rose and took my leave. The eastern horizon was beginning to lighten. Hailing a cab, I directed him to my hotel. I read my notebook as we went.

This made me more and more uneasy. It was so complete, so real. Yet I still couldn't recall speaking with anyone while I dined. And I couldn't shake the feeling that I had.

When I arrived at the Henri IV I went straight to my room and packed. I booked myself out of the hotel and took a cab to Orly. Switching my ticket, I boarded a plane and headed home. During the flight I read my notes and pondered what to do.

I decided to write this 'interview'. I still have no memory of whether I'd spoken to Georges Belleveau and Diane Patterson. It is a good interview though and I felt the public should read it.

Did I spent a night sitting on the balcony of an excellent restaurant in Paris, speaking with myths, with fictional characters from a book? I really can't say.

I do know that the night holds more unease for me than it used to.

I hope you enjoyed this small piece of work. If so, please vote and comment to let me know. It does my heart good.