Thirst No. 4 (38 page)

For the first time I realize there are many rooms inside the structure. A white-hooded Caretaker places me in a small area behind a dozen people. Inside the room is a black marble table, on which sits a gold Scale as large as a desk. Numerous candles light the room but the Scale has no need of them; it possesses its own luster. Its design is simple and elegant. Two circular
plates hang by three sets of chains each, which are attached to a sleek pole that sits atop a square bar. It’s the bar, welded tight in a heavy cube, that supports the whole thing.

Behind the Scale, on the right, is a doorway filled with a golden light. I can’t see any particular object in the light but it’s enough to be near it, to stare at it and feel its soothing warmth. On the left is another doorway, only the light coming from it is a terrifying red. It makes my eyes ache to look at it.

Inside the room, the line isn’t exactly straight, it’s spread out. When it comes to the final step, it appears people are given a choice of when to take it, within reason. There’s no pushing or jockeying to get ahead. But I watch, fascinated, as a young African girl approaches the Scale. She’s pretty but far too thin. It’s possible she starved to death. She announces herself when she reaches the Scale.

“My name is Batu Sangal. I am fourteen years old.”

Batu must have arrived before me and studied the proper protocol; she knows what to do. I watch as, closing her eyes, she stretches out her hands so one hangs above each of the Scale’s plates. I marvel how steady she keeps her arms, but it’s possible they’re under the control of an invisible force. Her hands seem to hover for ages. Finally, as if by magic, jewels begin to form beneath her fingers.

On the right side of the Scale, a small pile of diamonds begins to appear. On the left plate, a smaller collection of black pearls materializes. For a moment the Scale teeters, as if deciding
which side is heavier. But since the amount of diamonds is so much greater, I’m not surprised when the gold plate settles down on the right side.

At that instant the sound of chimes fills the room.

The enchanting melody causes everyone to sigh with relief.

Clearly the diamonds represent our virtues.

While the black pearls are symbolic of our sins.

A white-hooded Caretaker takes Batu’s hand and leads her toward the door on the right, where she disappears into the golden light. I feel happy for her and wish I was following in her footsteps. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the two doors represent.

Next up is a well-dressed woman from Los Angeles. I recognize the accent.

“My name is Sharon McCloud. I am seventy years old.”

Sharon stretches out her arms, palms up, and closes her eyes and waits. Me, I think I would keep my eyes open in case the pile of black pearls on the left starts piling up. I’m not sure how the Caretakers deal with runners and I hope I never find out. Still, I would want to see what is materializing beneath my hands. I suppose Sharon is certain she is going to paradise.

Sharon ends up with six bright diamonds on the right plate. But so many black pearls form on the left side that it quickly causes the Scale to tilt in that direction. It strikes the table beneath the plate with an audible bang, which causes her eyes to fly open.

“No,” she whispers. “There must be some mistake.”

The screeching wail seems to come out of the walls.

Everyone groans; the sound makes our heads ache.

“No!” Sharon screams. “I’m a Christian! I renounce Satan and all his works! You’re making a mistake! I didn’t do anything wrong! You can’t put me in there!”

The red-robed Caretakers are experienced. Three of them descend with amazing speed and grab Sharon by her arms and legs and lift her off the floor. They carry her toward the left door and the wicked bloody light.

“Please!” Sharon begs. “Don’t put me in the fire! I don’t want to go in the fire!”

The Caretakers go as far as the threshold of the left door, but don’t cross inside. Dark arms with burned flesh reach out and grab Sharon. The sight of the arms causes me to do a double take.

I swear I’ve seen them before.

The Caretakers let go and Sharon’s screams slowly fade away.

“Jesus,” I whisper. She’s gone but the sound of her cries haunts me. The diamonds and pearls disappear before another person steps forward.

The guy in front of me goes next. He looks like an Eskimo. He still has on a heavy seal coat and, incredibly, has a raw fish in his pocket. He must have drowned while ice fishing.

His case is maddening. He holds out his hands and closes
his eyes and an equal number of bright diamonds and black pearls materialize. At least to the eye. But the gold plates, after fluctuating up and down on both sides for what seems like forever, finally settle on the right side.

The chimes fill the room.

The collective sigh of relief is loud.

The Eskimo is led off to the golden light.

Suddenly the young blond woman comes up beside me.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

“I’ve been better.”

She nods toward the Scale. “You’re going to be all right.”

“I don’t know. My history, it’s complicated.”

“But your heart is good. I can tell.”

“Do you know how far they go back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does this Scale weigh everything you’ve done in life? Or are more recent events more important? You see what I’m asking.”

“Sure. Maybe a person got off to a bad start but then they found their path in life and became a better human being.”

“Exactly. It seems to me that where you end up should carry more weight.” I say this because my behavior improved as I went along in life, even for a vampire. Indeed, toward the end, I saved a lot of lives.

Of course, in the beginning, I took a lot of lives.

The blonde shakes her head. “I can’t say for sure how it works.”

“You look awfully optimistic. Have you gone yet?”

“I was waiting for you and that other woman.”

“That’s nice of you. Have you seen her?”

“No. But I’m not surprised. She told me when we were crossing the river with the ferryman that her case is different.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“She said her path depended on what you decided.”

“She didn’t tell me that.”

“I might have misunderstood her.”

“Besides, there’s nothing left to decide. What’s done is done.”

The blonde is distracted, excited to move on. “Hey, are you ready to give it a go?” she asks.

I hesitate. “Are you?”

“I can go first if you want.”

“Great. I’ll root for you.”

There’s a man already in front of us. He looks like a European businessman. I can tell he’s nervous. His face is intelligent but maybe that’s his problem. He might have made too many shrewd decisions in his life, ones that cost others but not himself. He introduces himself before the Scale.

“My name is Roberto Vion. I am forty-nine years old.”

I lean over and whisper to the blonde. “Why do you have to state your age?”

“I heard if you’re older, the Scale expects more of you.”

“Oh shit.”

Roberto stretches out his arms and closes his eyes. Immediately the diamonds begin to pile up at a fast rate. Then, halfway through the process, probably halfway through his life, the pearls start to pour out at high speed. It’s like he hit a bad stretch.

Near the end, the diamonds start to increase.

When it’s over, the Scale wobbles back and forth.

But it settles on the left side. Under the weight of the pearls.

The room is dead silent. Except for the Caretakers. The red-hooded and white-hooded ones whisper back and forth to each other.

The tension is unbearable. My partner and I exchange looks.

The wail finally starts. It’s so loud.

Roberto takes it like a man. He’s quiet as he’s led away.

“Damn it. There’s no mercy here,” I swear.

“There is,” a voice says at our backs. We turn to find the wise woman has found us. Her company is reassuring but my nerves are still taut.

“Glad you could make it,” I say with feeling.

She smiles as she pats me on the back. “Whose turn is it?”

“I’m going next,” the blonde says.

Neither of us tries to stop her. The small crowd parts as she makes her way up front. She nods to both colored Caretakers, and to the Scale itself.

“My name is Teresa Raine. I am nineteen years old.”

Closing her eyes, she stretches out her hands.

“It’s Teri!” I gasp. “Why didn’t I recognize her?”

“You knew her,” the other woman says.

“But what’s she doing here? She’s not dead.”

“How do you know when she died?”

“I just made her into a vampire!”

“There is no before or after here. There is only now.”

I shake my head. “This place is not natural.”

Teri holds her palms above the gold plates. Things start slow for her, I’m not sure why. A few small diamonds appear, followed by a couple of black pearls. But then the pile of diamonds begins to grow. The size and brightness of the stones increase. No more pearls appear.

Her plate comes to rest on the right side.

The chimes sing louder than ever.

The woman and I cheer. Teri calls to us as a white-hooded Caretaker takes her away. She doesn’t struggle with the guy, but tries her best to tell him that she wants to wait for us. He shakes his head. As she’s being led to the right door, she shouts to me, “I love you!”

Teri disappears into the golden light.

I discover I’m weeping.

I’m so happy for her, and so scared for myself.

The woman squeezes my hand. “It’s time,” she says.

“What happens if I fail?”

“Your path has always been difficult. Don’t falter here at the end.”

Her advice sounds like something Krishna would say.

I step up to the front and nod to the Scale and the Caretakers.

“I am Sita. I am five thousand one hundred and fifty-two years old.”

A stir fans the room. Voices murmur all around.

A tall red-hooded Caretaker orders everyone to hush.

Something about his voice sounds familiar.

I hate him. He’s not indifferent like the others. He’s evil.

Keeping my eyes open, I stretch out my arms. As I place my hands above the plates, palms upward, I feel as if something reaches out and locks them in place. The invisible grip is strong enough to hold a normal human in place. Of course, I’m not human, yet I suspect that even I could not break free. Plus I see no point in fighting the process. I mean, where am I going to run?

Diamonds begin to collect on the right side, small ones. This goes on for a while and I feel encouraged but then black pearls start to pour onto the left plate. I realize this must be a result of when Yaksha changed me into a vampire. Back in the days when we killed whoever crossed our path.

Then something miraculous happens.

A single giant diamond appears above the right plate. It drops onto it from a height of several inches and heavily weighs
it down. In an instant I know the precious jewel is from the day I met Krishna and took my vow not to make any more vampires. The diamond is so large it must weigh several pounds. I suddenly feel good about my chances.

Then fate or destiny intervenes.

Pearls and diamonds begin to pour out of the thin air at an incredible speed. Since the Scale has so many years to cover, I can understand the need for haste. But this is ridiculous.

There are so many pearls and diamonds on each side, they begin to fall off the plates onto the table, and I have to ask myself how I managed to commit so many good and bad deeds. Frankly, most of my life I just kept my head down and tried to keep people from noticing that I never aged. Yet the Scale acts like I never stopped killing or saving people.

Near the end, the flow begins to slow.

Especially on the diamond side. The pearls take over.

The left side looks like it’s going to win.

Then a handful of extra large diamonds appear.

The Scale wobbles back and forth, up and down. More than half the pearls and diamonds, half my life, lie spread over the black table. There’s no room on the plates to measure all that I have done or failed to do. It’s not fair but I realize this isn’t a place where you get to argue your case.

At some point, I’m not exactly sure when, the invisible grip releases my hands and my arms fall to my sides and I finally close my eyes. But I feel my fingers touch the Scale plates as
they drown in the piles of black pearls and diamonds. My heartbeat has finally returned, I feel that too, I feel it breaking. Especially as the red and white Caretakers begin to whisper to each other. Yet eventually even they stop.

The room falls dead silent.

Please, Krishna.

A screeching wail suddenly fills the room.

I open my eyes and see the left plate is lower.

The black pearls have won.

The tall red-hooded Caretaker grabs my left arm.

I try to shake him off and fail. He is very strong.

“I know what bloody door I have to take,” I snap.

He speaks in a voice I know. A voice I heard in a crummy motel in London just before I skinned an innocent woman and ate her alive. The voice is soft-spoken but firm; it carries the weight of authority and I have no reason to doubt what he says.

Yet he doesn’t raise his hood, and I cannot see his face.

“You have been judged and there is no escape from that judgment. You are damned. A word from me and you will be taken through the red door, where there is only fire and pain. There you will burn. But not like you burned on earth. In the world of the living you were a vampire. There you would heal quickly. But in the world of fire, there is no relief. There is only agony.”

I cower. I want to tell him to forget his silly speech and get
on with it but I feel as long as he’s talking, I’m not suffering. In that moment, even an instant without pain feels like a blessing. So I listen, I listen closely, for he appears to be implying that he has the power to change my fate, or at least postpone it for a time.