by Jamila (aka Sidney)
Sidney fished a stray beer can out of the pool – removing the last remnant of the party earlier that night. He was in a foul mood and he’d sent everyone home with a dismissive thought.
He wanted to be left alone.
Just him, his thoughts, and an empty mansion.
And an empty pool now that he’d cleaned it.
A dead man’s pool.
He actually hated everything about the modern mansion of the late Brad Wagner, except for the pool – and the library that felt plucked from the past with all its old books and rich mahogany decorating its walls. He learned during his recon that it was a gift to Brad’s ex-wife, who begged him to he leave that part of the original 1800s manor intact or she would leave him, making their marriage even more like a shoddy retelling of a French fairytale he adored.
And now it and everything around it belonged to him.
“Reparations…” he smirked. Not that he needed it. A century’s worth of savings saw to that. But it amused him all the same; claiming the luxuries that once belonged to powerful white men, who thought they were untouchable because of manifest destiny, for himself and his friends. For John.
“John…”
It was the first time he had said his name aloud in a long time and not followed it with words of vengeance or malice. Just his name, uttered in a sad and forlorn tone, as he thought about how he had once again failed his best friend. The one person who had kept him human before he met Millie or Valentine. A man who kept his human nature even in the darkest of times – even though he willingly was turned so he could keep Sidney in check. He had saved Sidney countless times and now he was gone forever. Dead. For real this time. And it was his fault.
He had lost so much in less than a decade, a short period of time for a vampire: Millie, John…Valentine. Valentine.
“Not gone…just….elsewhere.” He muttered.
Valentine’s note made it clear Sidney wouldn’t know where elsewhere was anytime soon – but at least he knew Valentine was okay even if his boyfriend thought he was a fuck up.
He was a “fuck up” – although those were Valentine’s words not his. He had slipped back into old habits. Things he thought he had left behind. Feelings he thought he’d left behind.
He watched the ripples on the pool’s surface break against his legs, the waves dancing in the illumination of the underwater lights. He found it oddly comforting sitting there at the edge of the pool. Even though his last human experience with water had been nearly drowning, he still found himself drawn to it. Over a hundred years and he still hadn’t learned to avoid things that hurt him. Like running into him. He hadn’t meant to do that. He didn’t even know he was alive – let alone in California.
What did he say? Oh right “I thought you died a long time ago…isn’t that funny? But here you are…” Sidney had been drunk – really drunk. Or he never would have talked to that man – not like that. Not looking as he did now. The only other thing he remembered was the cold look he gave him in response. What that man had said in reply didn’t matter much – Sidney was used to people saying the cruelest things to him. He stopped listening once he saw it coming. It was the guilt that hurt the most. That man might walk among the living – but whatever he was once – was long dead. And Sidney felt responsible – again. He had a habit of killing everything he cared about.
Or pushing it away.
“A cosmic joke.” He said softly with a laugh. Then he tossed his arms outward and loudly added to no one in particular. “If this is real…if all this is real – I think I’ll stick to dreaming and fiction for a bit, thank you very much.”
Then he dropped his arms in defeat. If God was listening, he wasn’t on the top of the list – clearly.He did hope no one from the brood heard that last bit – but they were probably too far out of earshot by now, even for heightened senses.
Good.
He sighed and considered going back to the library to read until he passed out as he did most nights. But then he felt the familiar mix of sadness and nostalgia as his thoughts drifted back to Millie. She would have liked all those books. She wouldn’t have liked him – not now...not like this. He didn’t much like this version of himself either. So he turned back to the pool, discarded his robe, and slipped into the water. And he let himself drift to the bottom of the deep end, fighting back the brief pang of fear that hit him. An echo from his mortal life he still hadn’t managed to shake. It would pass quickly enough.He didn’t need to breathe, but he still did it out of habit. Absently, he released the last lungful of air as he settled against pool floor and watched the bubbles make their way skyward. He smiled in amusement as he watched this and enjoyed the muffled ambience of being underwater.
A dead man in a dead man’s pool. Fitting.
He smirked at the dark thought and looked at his surroundings. He had considered draining the pool to have a mural painted or adding mosaic tiles, something more interesting to look at than boring blank walls. Brad lacked any taste. Why was that such a trend with rich people? The only style in this whole place came and left with his wife. Perhaps Sidney would fix this – after all he was down at the bottom of the pool often enough – maybe if he stayed beyond this month. He shrugged and closed his eyes and let his mind drift as the waves from his descent slowed around him, gently pulling at his hair.
It took a while to dismiss the frenzied thoughts and worries of his current life and settled on something happier – a memory of late afternoon picnic in Central Park. It was 1947, maybe, he wasn’t sure, but it was the end of summer. Millie was humming some song on the radio she could just make out as Valentine fiddled with the tuner and muttered about how he wished she’d let him fix it. He remembered the green dress she wore and how the strap fell off her shoulder – and how she insisted he left it where it was. The funny way she scrunched her nose when she laughed at a joke and then covered her face in embarrassment of not acting her age. Valentine admonishing her for making so much food since neither he or Sidney could eat any of it but still risking a few bites of her sandwich because he missed the taste. The feeling of the dappled sun against his skin, as they all lay on the blanket below their willow tree and Sidney listened while Valentine and Millie discussed the movie they’d seen a few days before. He revisited that moment often. It was not a perfect day – so many things actually went wrong before and after that moment – but during that moment it was perfect, calm and…almost human.
A better time.
And then like the torrential downpour that disrupted their idyllic little picnic, something suddenly broke the calm of the water and Sidney’s thoughts along with it. Someone had jumped into the pool. Sidney’s eyes snapped opened in annoyance and he almost lashed out at his unwanted guest when he caught a flash of bright, multicolored textiles among the bubbles of disturbed water. And his confusion was replaced with one thought – Lucas, what the fuck?