Chapter 80 Chapter 79

This Le Bains inn is notable for its high-ceilinged drawing room with a fireplace. Helen and I sat on the uncomfortable damask sofa.Dad sat in a deep chair by the fire, staring at Helen, at both of us.Barry, with his long legs slung over the upholstered chair, seemed to be trying not to stare at the bottle of brandy until Dad came back and poured everyone a glass.Silent crying made Barry's eyes red and he seemed to want to be alone. I looked at him, and the tears were disobedient, and they rushed up. My dad looked at Barry and at that moment I thought he would cry too. "He's brave," Dad said quietly. "You know, it was his attack that made Helen kill him with a single shot. Helen couldn't have shot the devil in the heart if someone hadn't distracted him. I think James knew at the last moment what a colossal he'd done. Contributed. He avenged the man he loved most — and many others."

Barry nodded, still speechless.There was a short silence. "When we can sit down quietly, I promise to tell you everything," Helen put down her glass and finally spoke. "Are you sure you don't need me to leave and let you stay together?" Barry reluctantly opened his mouth. Helen smiled.I was surprised by the quality of her laugh, which was not the same as when she spoke.Even in the sad and happy atmosphere of the room, her laughter didn't seem out of place. "No, no, honey," she said to Barry. "We can't live without you." I love her accent, that English is rough and sweet.I have long known this voice, but I have no memory of when it was so early.She was tall and thin, dressed in outdated black, with a strand of gray hair peeking out from her head.Her face was striking - defined, haggard, with eyes full of life.Every time I turned my head and saw her, it was a shock—not only because she was actually there, but because I kept thinking about young Helen, never thinking about the years that passed when we were not together.

"It takes a long, long time to tell," she said softly. "But at least a few things can be said for now. First of all, I'm sorry. Paul, I know I have caused you a lot of pain." She looked past the firelight at Papa.Barry moved awkwardly, but she stopped him with a firm gesture. "I've brought more pain on myself. Second, I should have told you, but now our daughter"—she smiled sweetly, tears streaming down her face—"our daughter and our friends can help me Testify. I'm alive, not a zombie, he only touched me twice." I wanted to see Dad, but I didn't even dare to turn my head away. This moment belonged to him alone. I heard him sobbing silently.

She stopped, as if to catch her breath. "Paul, when we visited St. Matthews and I learned about their traditions - the ghoul-turned abbot and the Kirill friars who guarded him - I was filled with despair and curiosity at the same time. I thought I'd like to see this place, eager to come here, not by chance. I did more research in New York before we came to France, hoping to find a second hiding place for Dracula to avenge my father, which I didn't tell you, Paul. But I never saw anything about St. Matthew. I read about it in your guidebook, and I started wanting to go there. Just wanting to go, not to do research.”

She glanced around us, her beautiful silhouette hanging down. "I started researching again in New York because I felt that I had killed my father - I was eager to outdo him and expose his betrayal of my mother - and I couldn't stand the idea. Later, I started to feel that it was my evil Bloodlines—Dracula's bloodlines—made me do it. I realized I passed this evil on to my baby, even though I had healed from the zombies." She stopped, stroked my cheek, and took my hand.I trembled at her touch, this woman who was both familiar and strange sat on the sofa, leaning on my shoulder.

"I feel more and more unworthy. After hearing that legend told by Brother Kirill at St. Dracula, kill him, and I'll be fully healed, a good mother, and a new life. "After you fell asleep, Paul, I came to the cloister. I wanted to go back to the basement with my gun and try to open the sarcophagus, but I couldn't do it alone. I sat on a bench in the cloister, looking out over the cliff, Thinking about waking you up, begging for help, or not. I know I shouldn't be there alone, but I can't help it, there's a beautiful moonlight and the mountains are surrounded by mist."

Helen's eyes opened surprisingly wide. "I was sitting there with goose bumps on my back, and it seemed that something was standing behind me. I turned around quickly, and on the other side of the corridor, where the moonlight couldn't shine, I seemed to see a dark shadow. His face was in the shadows, and instead of seeing, I felt his glowing eyes staring at me. In a split second, he could spread his wings and fly on to me, and I was alone. Suddenly, I heard a voice , that hideous voice in my head, telling me that I can never beat Dracula, this is his world, not mine. That voice is telling me to jump off while I'm still me. I'm like Stand up like sleepwalking, and jump down."

She sat upright now, staring at the fire, and Dad put his face in his hand. "I wanted to fall free, like Satan, like an angel, but I didn't see those stones. Instead of falling all the way, I landed on a stone and cut my head and hands, but there was a big thick grass, I ain't dead, my bones aren't broken. I think it's been hours since I woke up in the cold night feeling my face and neck bleeding and seeing the moon go down. My God if I Roll over instead of passing out—" She paused. "I know I can't explain to you what I want to do, I am deeply ashamed. I feel that I am no longer worthy to be with you and your daughter. When I can stand up, I stand up and find myself bleeding Not much. I was sore but my bones were not broken and I felt he didn't jump on me. He must have thought everything was fine when I jumped. I was very weak and had trouble walking, but I got around the monastery wall, Down the road, into the dark."

I thought Dad was going to cry again, but he listened quietly, never taking his eyes off her for a moment. "I went out into the world, it wasn't too hard to do, I had a handbag with me - I guess it was a habit, because the gun and the silver bullets were in it. I remember standing on a cliff and seeing the handbag still hanging On the arm, I almost laughed. There was money in it, a lot of money in the inner lining, I saved it. My mother always had money with her, too. I think it was the custom in her village. She never believed Banks. Much later, when I needed money, I would withdraw it from our bank account in New York, deposit some in a bank in Switzerland, and leave Switzerland as soon as possible, lest you follow me, Paul. Oh, forgive me!"

She cried out suddenly and grabbed my hand.I knew she wasn't referring to the money, but to her disappearance. Dad also clasped his hands: "You gave me a few months of hope to withdraw the money, at least in my heart I doubted it, but the bank couldn't track it, and I got the money back." But he couldn't get you back, he could have Add this sentence, but no.His expression was tired and cheerful, radiant. Helen lowered her eyes. "Anyway, I found a place outside Le Bains to stay for a few days while my wounds healed. I hid until I could resurface." Her fingers casually touched her neck, and I saw the little white scar that I had noticed many times.

"I knew in my bones that Dracula hadn't forgotten me, and that he would come to me again. I filled my pockets with garlic and my heart with strength. I carried a gun, a dagger, and a cross with me. Every village I passed, I Go to the church and ask for blessings, even if the old wound aches just when I enter the door sometimes, I will do it. I cover my neck carefully, and finally I cut my hair short, dye it, change my clothes, wear sunglasses, a long time Instead of going into the city, I slowly began to check the archives. I always wanted to go to the archives for research. "I looked it up. I found him everywhere—Rome in the 1620s, Florence under the Medici, Madrid, Paris during the Revolution. Sometimes there was a plague, sometimes in the Necropolis. Vampires appear - such as the Pere Lachaise cemetery. He seems to like scribes, archivists, librarians and historians - anyone who has anything to do with history through books. I'm trying to deduce his new grave from his whereabouts Where, but I can't find a pattern. I thought, once I find him, once I kill him, I'll come back and tell you how safe the world has become. I'll win you. I've been afraid I haven't Find him, and he finds me. I miss you wherever I go—oh, I'm so lonely." She took my hand again and stroked it like a fortune teller.I can't help but be angry - those days without her. "Finally, it occurred to me that even if I didn't deserve it, I'd like to sneak a look at you. You two. I read about your foundation in the paper, Paul. I know you're in Amsterdam. Find your office, or It's not hard to do it in a coffee shop not far from your office, or take a trip or two with you, but I'm very careful—very, very careful. I never put myself face to face with you lest you see me .I have come and gone. If my research goes well, I will allow myself a trip to Amsterdam and follow you from there. Then, one day—in Monte Peduto, Italy—I was in the open air Square saw him. He was also following you, spying on you. That's when I realized he was strong enough to go out sometimes in broad daylight. I knew you were in danger, but if I went up to warn you, the danger would be more pressing. After all, he may be looking for me instead of you, or wants me to bring him to you. It bothers me a lot. I know you must be doing research again—you must have noticed him again , Paul—that got his attention. I can't make up my mind what to do." "It's my—my fault," I murmured, squeezing her pristine, wrinkled hand. "I found that book." She looked at me, her head tilted to one side. "You're a historian," she said after a while.This is not a problem.Then she sighed. "For years I've been writing postcards to you, my daughter - of course, without sending them. One day, I think I'll be able to communicate with you both from a distance, to let you know that I'm alive, but not from anyone else. Come to me. I'll send the postcard to your home in Amsterdam and send it to Paul in a parcel." This time, I turned to Dad, both surprised and angry. "Yes," he said to me sadly. "I don't think I can let you see these postcards and make you sad because I couldn't find your mother. You can imagine how painful I was during that time." I can imagine.I remember in Athens, when he suddenly became very haggard, and that night at his desk in his room, he looked like he was dying.However, he is smiling at us now, and I know he can smile every day now. "Ah," she laughed too.I saw deep lines at the corners of her mouth and wrinkles around her eyes. "So I started looking for you—and him." He became serious. She stared at him. "Then I realized I had to stop researching him. He followed you and I followed him, it was that simple. Sometimes I saw you, and I saw you doing research again—seeing you walking into the library, or coming out of it. , Paul. I really wanted to tell you what I had learned. Then you went to Oxford. I didn't go there when I was doing my research, although I have read the material and know that there was an outbreak of vampires in the late Middle Ages. In Oxford , you leave a book open and—” "He closed it when he saw me," I interjected. "And me," Barry grinned quickly.It was the first time he spoke.Seeing that he still has a happy expression, I am relieved a lot. "Well, he forgot to close that book the first time he read it." Helen winked at us. "You're right," Dad said. "I remembered, I forgot." Helen turned to him with a pleasing smile. "You know I've never read that book before? The Medieval History of Vampires?" "Classic," Dad said. "But very rare." "I think Professor James must have seen it too," Barry said slowly. "You know, we alerted you who were doing research, sir, and after a while, I saw him there." My dad looked puzzled. "Yes," said Barry, "I forgot my raincoat in the library hall. I went back to get it in less than an hour. I saw Professor James coming out of the hallway, but he didn't see it. Me. I think he looked worried, kind of angry, kind of distraught. I decided to call him and think about it." "You called Professor James?" I was taken aback, but no longer angry. "Where? Why are you calling?" "I called him in Paris because I remembered something," was all Barry said, stretching his legs. I wanted to walk over and put my arms around his neck, but not in front of my parents.He looks at me. "I told you what I was trying to recall on the train, about Professor James. I remembered it when we got to Paris. Once he was sorting out papers, and I saw a letter on the table—exactly. Said it was an envelope. I liked the stamps on it, so I took a closer look. "The letter came from Turkey, and it was old—that's why I looked at the stamps.—Well, it was postmarked twenty years ago, from a professor named Bora. I thought to myself, one day I would get a big desk and collect letters from all over the world. The name Bora caught my attention at the time—it was very exotic. Of course I didn’t open or read the letter,” Barry added quickly. said a word. "I won't do that." "Of course not," my dad hummed softly, but I saw love in his eyes. "Well, we got off the train in Paris. I saw on the platform an old man, I think, a Moslem, wearing a crimson cap with a long tassel on it, and a robe, like a Turkish pasha. I suddenly remembered the letter, and the story of your father—you know, the name of the Turkish professor"—he gave me a somber look—"and I went on the phone, and I realized that Professor James had also Participated in this tracking in some way." "Then where am I?" I asked jealously. "I think it's in the bathroom. Girls are always in the bathroom." He'd better blow me a kiss, but not in front of other people. "Professor James was furious on the phone, but when I told him what happened, he said that he would love me as a student for the rest of his life." Barry's red lips trembled a little, "I dare not ask him what he plans to do, but Now we know." "Yes, we know," Papa echoed sadly, "he must have done the calculations from that old book too, and figured that Dracula's last visit to St. Six years. Afterwards he must have guessed where I was going. When he went to see me in the rare-book alcove, he was actually seeing how I was doing—he followed me a few times and asked me to tell him what was wrong, what was worrying My health and mental state. I don't want to involve him, I know it's dangerous." Helen nodded. "Yes, I think he came not long after I left. I found the open book and did my own calculations. Then I heard someone coming up the stairs and slipped out the other side. Like Like our friends, I see that you are going to St. Matthew, Paul, to find me and the devil. I am driving as hard as I can, but I don't know which train you are on, and of course our daughter will follow you .” "I see you," I said in amazement. She stares at me.Let's not talk about that for a while, we still have a lot of time. I could see she was tired, we were all too tired to even tell each other we had a great win tonight.Is the world a safer place because we're all together, or because he's finally beaten to death?I look into a future I never knew before. Helen lived with us, she would blow out the candles in the dining room, she would come to my high school graduation and college commencement, and she would help me get bridal if I ever got married.After the meal, she will read something for us in the front hall, she will return to the world and coach again, she will take me to buy clothes and shoes, and she will go for a walk with her arms around my waist. Little did I know at the time that she would wander away from us sometimes, not speaking for hours, fondling her own neck, or that a debilitating disease would take her away forever after nine years—and we'd just rediscovered it She, far from being used to it, though we may never take her return for granted, never get tired of waiting for her to reappear. I certainly could not have foreseen it then, and our last consolation was to know that she was finally at rest, as it could have turned out otherwise.Determining this is both heartbreaking and comforting for us.If I could have foreseen all this, I might have understood why my dad disappeared all day after her funeral, taking the little dagger that was in the living room cabinet, so I wouldn't have asked him why, absolutely. Won't. But by Lebanon's fire, we have long years to live happily with her. Dad stood up, kissed me, shook Barry's hand warmly, and pulled Helen from the couch. "Come on," he said, and she snuggled up to him. Her story was finished for the time being, her face was tired and her heart was full of joy. He squeezed her hands tightly. "Go to bed." From this moment, the long years began.