it is my final wish.”

  Rosa quickly thought about the word ‘final’ and knew this would be no ordinary nuptials ceremony, but she nonetheless complied with the odd request.

  The day seemed to move at an accelerated pace, as the powerful rays of the midday sun transitioned into the remaining flickers of sunlight of dusk. And as the sun was no longer the dominant force in the sky, the ascending power of the moon awoke a slumbering and internally transformed groom.

  Manuel groaned as he woke up and then struggled to get to his knees.

  “I feel like I have been hit by a buffalo at top speed.

  Carmen had a remedy for her fiancé’s paranormal hangover, as she walked into their living area with a bucket filled with cold water from a nearby stream. She tossed the water through the air and it engulfed Manuel’s body, instantly awakening his senses.

  He shook off the excess water like the soggy dog that he was and exclaimed, “Woohoo! Thanks doll, I needed that!”

  Before she left the tent to put on her wedding dress he asked, “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few people from the neighboring village?”

  It wasn’t so much of a question as an information update. She knew that the “people” would be women he spent time with.

  “The more the merrier!” she said with a genuine smile. And then she thought to herself as she walked away, “Serves them right for messing with someone else’s man. That’s their funeral. No garlic necklaces for them.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the ceremony was about to start and Carmen was walking down the aisle toward Manuel, as the other women vying for his affection looked her over. All she had in her broken heart was smiles for her detractors because she knew of their fate.

  When Carmen finally got up toward Manuel, she looked toward the black sky and knew that the fun was about to begin, so she leaned over after he pulled back her veil and whispered, “You can run to the ends of the earth but I will always find you.”

  He pulled back and was unsure whether he was being threatened or she was just trying to convey a somewhat aggressive romantic gesture?

  But before Manuel could act on his usually aggressive impulses, he was struck with a full body pain that not even the greatest Native American warrior could inflict. He screamed from the agony and Carmen turned to the crowd and said, “You might want to take a step back or two.” And then she turned to the handful of women from the neighboring tribe and said, “You ladies might want to start running, real fast!”

  The women were confused at first, but when Manuel’s fingernails started growing and his teeth turned to fangs that were all the incentive they needed to get going. Had they seen the full wings unfurled then they surely would have passed out from the unusual sight.

  Manuel roared as he felt even more powerful than he ever felt in his mortal skin. He thought about attacking the people of his village but then he was quickly put off by the repulsive and overpowering scent of garlic, so he floated over to his new master, Carmen.

  She patted him on the head and said, “Good boy!” in her most sarcastic tone, like a dog owner would say to its pet. Carmen then turned and nodded in the direction of the running women and exclaimed, “Now, go fetch!” and then walked over and picked up her luggage bundle and left the village while Manuel feasted on the blood of the infidels and the other people of their village.

  TWO

  Somewhere around the 1980s, Carmen got tired of playing with her toy and decided to simply bury Manuel in a small cemetery in Burlington, Vermont on the top of a hill overlooking the new Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream complex.

  He took the burial as the chance to finally be able to slow things down and get some much needed ‘me’ time for a change. After a few centuries of doing horrible things mostly against his will, Manuel was looking forward to whatever time he had alone in the darkness.

  Four years into his below-ground exile, Carmen was killed as she performed a spell with a bunch of wiccans. The spell went horribly wrong as all of the 10 witches burst into flames and were reduced to piles of dust. Carmen’s reign of revenge was over, although she was in a better place mentally after she buried Manuel and never planned to think about him or see him ever again.

  The desperate call from Gabriel Billingsley hugged the coast of the Atlantic Ocean on its way up north, and awoke Manuel Ortiz from his extended meditation. He looked up through his coffin past the extensive root system that had grown all around him and exploded out of the ground, unfurling his wings to land softly on the ground. While he could have floated above the grass, Manuel desired to feel the ground under his feet again as he moved.

  Manuel looked down at the Ben & Jerry’s location and suddenly had the urge for something sweet. It was after nine o’clock in the middle of the summer and regular business hours had just passed on this busy Friday night. Manuel looked like a regular mortal—a quite pale one at that, because he hadn’t seen the light of day in years—as he surveyed the list of flavors available to patrons for the day. And then one particular flavor caught his one-tracked mind.

  “I’ll have a large cup of the ‘Vampire Red’ ice cream, my good man.”

  The company had been experimenting with more trendy flavor names and found that its blood red ice cream had been quite popular with the teenage crowd and, apparently, the night walkers it was named for.

  “Oh I’m sorry, we’re closed,” the young man named Travis said.

  Manuel thought, “This boy has been alive for fewer years than I have been buried. Surely he just needs some coaxing.”

  He looked deep into the boy’s eyes and then Travis went from cleaning to scooping a bunch of ‘Vampire Red’ into a large tie-dyed cup.

  “This is our most popular flavor this summer. We can’t make it fast enough!” he beamed and then happily handed the groovy cup to Manuel, who took a taste of the somewhat tart flavor and said, “Needs more blood.”

  Travis slid his arm through the ice cream delivery window and Manuel bit into his wrist and emptied some blood as topping over the ice cream.

  “Looks like magic shell!” Travis exclaimed and then started to feel faint from the blood loss as Manuel continued to feed.

  The vampire rolled his eyes and said, “Mortals,” as he bit into his own wrist and let the kid drink enough of the good stuff to fully recover and instantly heal.

  “Now, isn’t that the best blood red you’ve ever tasted?” Manuel asked as he pulled his wrist away from the eager kid’s mouth.

  Travis nodded in agreement and smiled as if he had done something naughty that felt so nice. He had blood all over his mouth and cheeks and didn’t realize it, so Manuel reached for a napkin from the back and silver dispenser in front of him and cleaned Travis’ face like a caring parent.

  “Have a little pride in your appearance for god’s sake!” Manuel said and then said and then wet the napkin on his tongue and wiped off the more stubborn blood.

  “There, that’s better. Who’s my handsome boy?”

  Travis raised his hand and beamed, “Me!”

  “You be a good boy and stay out of trouble,” Manuel commanded and then flew away with his bloody ice cream before the kid even remembered that someone had come to his window after hours.

  Manuel was on his way to the Beach Haven Zoo to the source of the distress call, Gabriel Billingsley. He was mere miles away from the zoo when his attention was diverted to another location where he felt his particular skill set was more in demand.

  The sun was rising in the eastern horizon as Manuel Ortiz landed softly in the broken pavement driveway of an old abandoned warehouse. He looked around and thought for a moment that his senses must have been out of tune after all these years of inactivity. That was, until, he picked up a familiar scent and was then overwhelmed by a wave of other intriguing scents.

  And, as the smells permeated his senses, the rubble in front of him transformed into the most beautiful and modern house he had ever seen. So he walked to the back of t
he house and sat in a chair on the patio facing the sun and the ocean with his back to the sliding glass doors. Manuel felt free for the first time above ground in more than 200 years.

  THREE

  Everyone in the House of Hartwell was so exhausted from days of battle that no one detected Manuel’s presence, at least not at first. Hartwell, as was his usual routine in being the head of the household, was up first and left his wife Maggie behind to see if anyone else was awake. Heartbeats were moderate in most cases, except for Samuel’s beat which was pulsing quite fast because he was dreaming of chasing a butterfly and then turning into the yellow and black Monarch butterfly because he couldn’t catch it.

  Hartwell was about to turn around and go back to bed, but a strange feeling overcame him and he felt compelled to walk through the main room of the house and out to the patio/deck. He opened the sliding door with his hand, although he could have easily moved it with his mind under normal circumstances.

  “The sun has such restorative powers, even for us vampires,” Manuel said as he sat back in the white Adirondack chair and kept gazing at the sunrise.

  “Come take a seat next to me, Thomas,” he stated and then gestured to the chair to his left.

  “I have seen more sunsets than sunrises in my day, but even as I lay dormant in a box for the last 30 years, I craved the warmth of the sun and was trying to remember back to the days when my life was normal.

  Manuel still had a powerful body and shorter, more muscular pair of legs on his six-foot, one-inch frame. Hartwell, by comparison, was much longer in his spider-like legs and shorter in his rugged frame and would tower over the former warrior if they were both standing up.

  “Do I know you?” Hartwell asked as the familiarity to the root of all things vampire stirred within him.

  Manuel smiled as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled put a pair of 35 year-old, half-broken Porsche Carrera sunglasses, and then dangled them on his nose.

  “There, that’s better. The sun is quite strong today.”

  “Must be global warming,” Hartwell replied as he closed his eyes and started to relax.

  “The planet is getting warmer? Things were much easier before cars were invented.”

  “Amen,” Hartwell concurred, as they had both lived in eras that pre-dated automobiles.

  “There is no better feeling than riding a horse,” Manuel said. Then he qualified the observation, “Well, in comparison to the automobile.”

  “Fresh blood always gets the heart pumping,” Hartwell stated.

  “Yes it does, Thomas. Yes it does,” Manuel replied and then took a deep breath and furiously bit into Hartwell’s left wrist, propelling the two men from their cozy confines to a place they both had never traveled.

  It appeared to be foggy and filled with clouds, so Hartwell asked, “Are we in heaven?”

  Manuel laughed, “I’m not sure that’s the place we’re going to wind up when it’s all said and done.”

  Hartwell regained his bearings first and then his sense of humor.

  “Then this must be San Francisco. But why would a bite on the wrist take us to San Francisco?”

  Then he playfully nudged Manuel and asked, “Why would you bite me?”

  Manuel replied, “Because that’s what had to be done. And don’t ever think about putting your hands on me again. Unless, of course, I tell you so.”

  Hartwell nodded, “Understood. At least about the part where I nudged you.”

  Manuel might have been underground for an extended period but he was still a bad-ass who would throw down if someone just looked at him the wrong way, and Hartwell inherently knew his place.

  “Who are you?” Hartwell repeated his question that remained unanswered from when they were sitting on the deck.

  Manuel smirked, “The more appropriate question, Thomas, is who are you and what has your life become?”

  FOUR

  The two men were transported to a time when Hartwell was mortal and was down on his luck. He is wearing a large cowboy hat with holes in it and his clothes are tattered. He appears to be on the verge of giving up.

  “That is not your best look,” Manuel said playing the part of fashion critic. “Not really sure what you were thinking when you bought that hat?”

  “It was hot and I was getting burned. And it was the only thing the shop keeper would give me for doing some odd jobs. I barely had enough money for food!”

  Manuel pulls out a violin and bow from behind him and sings, “Cry me a river!” And then he tosses the instrument away and says, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a sad story. Get a job!” he yelled.

  Hartwell took the comments in stride as he and Manuel went on to watch Hartwell stumbling on a major gold find in a section of water he had already panned and given up on. He punched his hand in anger through the water and then pulls out a huge gold rock that he is about to throw as far as his arm would send it, until the fading sunlight reflected against its shiny, reflective surface. His eyes widened as he yelled, “Gold! Gold! I stake this land as my own!”

  “You see,” Manuel said to observing Hartwell. “Sometimes you just have to dig a little deeper,” as gold rush Hartwell jumps up and down and his face reveals pure joy.

  “Were there any other times when you were at the brink and life was so miserable that thought you had finally run out of options?”

  And before Hartwell could answer, they were following him inside of a bank some months earlier.

  “I never liked that era. Everything was so dusty, musty and dirty,” the now fastidious vampire Manuel observed.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m uncomfortable just having to come back here.”

  “But I believe that is the point, Thomas,” Manuel stated firmly like a teacher to a student.

  “I had been casing that bank out for weeks, and I would have pulled the job off if not for…” Hartwell said.

  “Who is that woman?” lifetime ladies’ man Manuel asked with particular interest.

  Hartwell wasn’t having any of that, even though he knew that Manuel controlled whatever world they were in now.

  “That’s my wife, Maggie!”

  Manuel smacked Hartwell on the back and said, “Not bad! You have pretty good taste for a guy who can barely dress himself! She must have seen something in you that you, yourself didn’t even know you had.”

  “I don’t know how she knew?” a confused Hartwell asked.

  “Well, probably the same way you knew,” Manuel replied.

  “I just couldn’t rob that bank,” Hartwell stated.

  “You think he could have pulled it off?” Manuel questioned as he walked over to Maggie, who was sitting behind a desk in a long skirt and a smart blouse buttoned as high as it could go.

  She smiled, “Not a chance!” and then she high-fived Manuel and they both laughed at Hartwell’s expense.

  “But I had a gun!” a somewhat frustrated Hartwell admitted as he walked over to his mortal predecessor, reached into the dusty jacket pocket and pulled out a decent-sized pistol. Modern Hartwell talked, “I was all ready to use it!”

  “Until I looked into your eyes,” gold rush Hartwell stated, completing the sentence.

  Maggie walked over to both Hartwell’s, “That is why I love you both so much,” and then she hugged both of the book-end Hartwell’s. They broke the hug and she turned to mortal, down-on-his–luck Hartwell and said with her left hand on his face, “You, with your puppy-dog eyes and rugged good looks.”

  And then she turned to modern-day Hartwell and placed her right hand on the right side of his face.

  “And you, with your unshakeable self-confidence, loving disposition and… so handsome!”

  Manuel turned to both Hartwell’s and said, “I can see why you love this woman. I have never been that lucky.”

  Maggie inquired, “Are you saying that a woman has never shown you unconditional love? What about Carmen?” because everything appeared
to be fair game in this alternative universe.

  “Sadly,” Manuel stated, “I did not love her the same way she loved me.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Maybe it will be in the cards for you again one day,” modern Hartwell said as he gently patted Manuel on the back.

  “After all, we are all one big family,” mortal Hartwell said as he and Maggie disappeared and the original duo was back in a transitional phase in the clouds.

  “What does that mean? Who are you?” Hartwell asked with a tinge of desperation.

  “I am Manuel Ortiz, and we have some more work to do on you before we talk about me.”

  FIVE

  The next stop was late 19th century San Francisco, although Hartwell didn’t realize it at first because they were in a thick, early morning patch of fog.

  “While it would be easy for me to take you a few more years into the future and show you the life you loved with Margaret and Nathanial—now Maggie and Daniel—this is a working field trip and we always have to learn about what sits just beneath the surface, Manuel stated.

  “Holy crap!” Hartwell exclaimed. “Billingsley looks so young!” he added as he saw a mortal Gabriel Billingsley walking through the streets of San Francisco at the top of his game without a care in the world.

  “This was years before he and I painted the country red,” Hartwell said.

  Billingsley looks dapper in a brown tweed three-piece suit and a bowler hat, which he removes as he approaches a familiar lady figure.

  Hartwell gasps, “Oh my! She is breathtaking at any age,” he says as he sees Maggie dolled up in a brilliant blue dress eagerly waiting for Gabriel to arrive.

  Maggie extended her hand when they met and Gabriel smoothly kissed the top of her hand.

  “Is this their first date?” Hartwell asked.

  Manuel was intrigued by the scene and didn’t want to be bothered. “It looks that way. Why didn’t you just go over there and ask them?”

  Most of Hartwell was jealous at seeing his woman appearing interested in another man. But there was a growing part of him that always yearned for the truth in his life, and that was the spot that Manuel was looking to exploit.

  “Remember, getting involved with past events in this realm will have absolutely no impact on actual outcomes or the future.”

  “That’s good to know,” Hartwell replied.

  “Right?” Manuel concurred.

  They followed Maggie and Gabriel to a nearby café and the new couple sat outside. Hartwell and Manuel trailed and sat an adjacent table.

  “Is this the place with the wild green tea and the blueberry scones that melt in your mouth?” Manuel asked as the pervasive scents refreshed his memory.

  “Yes! How did you know? I used to come here almost every afternoon when we lived here!” Hartwell beamed.

  “I got around,” Manuel replied as he was always on the run from Carmen, and this avoidance of his almost-wife made him quite well traveled.

  It was a few years later from this point in time when Gabriel and Maggie were expecting their first child and he had run into some significant cash flow problems in his