Last Rose For a Rebel - Part 2

(continued) She wanted me to re-marry, you see, but I never did. Oh, I had a few trysts, here-and-there, just to remind myself the plumbing still worked, but all it REALLY did was remind me how much more incredible making love was with HER, and how inadequate other women were in every other way. Every-so-often, over the years, I would be out with someone, at a restaurant or night club or theater, and I would FEEL her, or get a waft of her scent, or sense her eyes watching me, but when I'd turn, she wouldn't be there. I wrote it off as my imagination, or some misguided hopes ... but now, thinking back, I'm sure it was her ... checking up on her "Johnny Reb", her lost soldier ... her One and True. Something ELSE that I started to notice after she left, there were OTHERS ... others like her, and quite a few, from what I could tell. I almost spoke to one of them once, a young girl from up north, by the way she dressed. I had seen her one evening on Chartres Street during a Mardi Gras parade, and a couple of days later I was headed to the French Market on Decatur and St Philip, and she walked by and brushed my arm, and I felt it - that TINGLE ... Oh, not very strong at all, but very distinct. I almost turned and ran after her, until I realized how utterly absurd that would be ... I mean, what would I say?? And what purpose would it serve?!? There was only one that I truly loved, and nothing could replace her, not even another of her kind. That was so long ago now, and I'd had no such thoughts for ages ... until she walked into this room ... to say goodbye ... and my tears flowed at the sight of her. I could barely move now, except for my head and neck, so she took off one of her pink satin gloves and blotted the moist from my face, then bent and softly kissed my eyes, then my lips ... oh, the rapture of sensations that overwhelmed me! After all this time - stronger than ever ... and though I still felt pain it was lost in the ecstasy of just being with her, seeing her smile, looking in those sea-deep eyes, touching the chili pepper lips with mine, and the blissful intoxication of aromas!! Oh, please let me go NOW - like this! With this final, heavenly taste in my mouth, and this sublime elation and passion! I never dreamed I would feel such again! And the pain, ebbing, ebbing, ebbing ... then I realized, slowly ... THIS is why she came ... not to say goodbye or make amends, not to have the final discussion we should have had long ago, not to utter truths or dire deeds, not for apologies, not for "where-have-you-been"s, or purging regrets, or even salvation ... for ME ... for MY pain. She had risked being seen by old friends and being revealed as not having aged for fifty years, and possibly even outing all of her kind, just to walk me home in peace and joy ... to ease the pain and suffering of an old fool she loved beyond any other, to assuage the fears and loneliness of the dying man she adored, to use the supernatural abilities and centuries-old expertise of her kind, to softly deliver the soul of the only one she ever really cared about. How many endless eons had she lived through? How many wars witnessed? How many unspeakable horrors seen? How many empty relationships for the sake of survival? All those secrets risked for the last moments of a weary old soldier. oh, how my heart leapt with the revelation!! How my spirit sang and soared, tears tracing my cheeks and gently dripping to her hand ... I slowly opened my heavy lids, now without any pain, and lost myself, one last time, in the inky black depths of her eyes ... she squeezed my hand as red tears ran down her alabaster face, the ONLY tears I had ever seen her shed ... and as the veil slowly lowered, and my life ebbed away, she touched her lips tenderly to my ear and whispered, "forever only, my Johnny Reb", and with my last breath I lovingly replied, "forever only, my Dearest, Precious, Most Lovely ... "vampire" * This was inspired by the writings of Dean Wesley Smith, and posted in his honor. *