The Blind Vampire Hunter (7 page)

Where, indeed. Ever since her encounter with
that constable during a Mardi Gras a couple of years ago, the one
who reminded her of fun-filled days of frolicking in ancient Rome,
then the capital of the world, there was the consuming of all those
hated Christians and political prisoners. This was surely a lot
more fun than being cooped up in a dingy, old castle watching age
steal her beauty from her.
When you think about it, it’s no
wonder I went a little crazy bathing and consuming all that
handmaiden blood.

She returned to the idea of relocating to the
current capital of the world–Washington, D.C.
But before I go
east, I think I will go west to spend some time enjoying the
sights, sounds and blood of Vegas.

Meanwhile, in Maryland....

Testing at Johns Hopkins continued. The
results showed that my peripheral vision was continuing to decline
at a slow rate, but my central vision was hanging in well. Looking
over my history, the research doctor added, “I see you had a
sudden, overnight spurt of activity of RP development. Just a
reminder, the next time that happens you could go to sleep sighted
and wake up totally blind, permanently blind.”

Meanwhile my ride to church disappeared, a
young man who was having marital problems to the point that his
wife walked out on him. He could not take the stress of his
impending divorce and had to be hospitalized, I was told, for an
extended time.

I needed a new ride, so I called my sister.
She had recently moved into her first apartment and it was close
by. “Sure, I’d be glad to give you a ride to church, but you do
realize I don’t attend Monrosa. (
Well, that explains why I
haven’t seen her at church lately.
) I have been going to a
closer church, a little church called Banner Church of Christ.”

“And what is a Church of Christ?”

“Basically it’s like a Baptist church, but a
bit more liberal. They have a singles social group you will enjoy,”
she ended in a playful tone.

“I’m sold.” Matching her playful tone, I
continued, “So what time should I be ready to be picked up?”

“Sunday school class starts at 10 a.m. It’s
nice to get there early and spend some social time before class
begins. So let’s say about 9:15, OK? That will get us to church
about a half-hour before class starts, plenty of time to
socialize.”

Before the class started, Erica introduced me
to some of the members of the class and the church singles program,
both male and female. My first impression was that of a real fun
and friendly group. The class started with announcements including,
“Just a reminder. After services there is a get-together at Taco
Taco.”

After class, I asked Erica, “So what is Taco
Taco?”

“It’s a new Mex-restaurant that is fancier
than a fast food place, but not too expensive. I hear it’s really
nice. Don’t worry. I’ll drive you there; just meet me back at the
car after the service. I did not think to mention it, but I will
not be sitting with you during the service.”

“Oh’, already ashamed to be seen with your
big brother?” I joked.

“That and I’ll be sitting up with the choir,
singing,” she answered playfully.

The service was impressive. The choir was
inspiringly good for a small church singing group. Reverend Bob was
very moving with his sermon on how little sins can slip you in to a
life of greater sins.

After the service, I was a bit delayed
getting back to Erica’s car as I was extremely welcomed by many of
the church-goers. It did not take long to see this was a very
friendly church group. Erica was waiting for me, very understanding
of my delay.

At Taco Taco we got separated and I found
myself at a table of near total strangers, I say “near” as I had
met and talked earlier with Jasmine and Tom. There were three
others at our table whom I had not met, including a lovely little
thing that was sitting right across from me. I quickly got to know
this Dolly Parton double as Diana.

When things started coming to an end, my
sister appeared from nowhere. “So you ready to leave?” I wasn’t
quite sure how to answer that, when Diana answered for me, “I’ll be
glad to give Jack a ride home.”
I couldn’t have said that better
myself.

After everyone had left, the waiters and
waitresses got busy cleaning up around us, so we got the hint and
left. On leaving Taco Taco, Diana asked, “So where do you
live?”

When I told her, she grinned and said, “I
should be able to find that. My apartment is in the very next
development.” We grinned at the realization that we were
practically next-door neighbors. When we were in front of my
apartment, an awkward silence developed with my having the problem
of getting out the next question. Diana was the one who broke the
silence. “Shall I pick you up for church next week?”

“That will be great! I’ll be looking forward
to that.” Then I remembered that when I became a full programmer,
per corporate policy business cards were made for me with my name,
title and home and office number printed on them. I got one out of
my wallet and gave it to her. Taking the card from me, she very
prettily asked, “Thank you. Do you have a second one?”

Reaching back into my wallet, I replied,
“Yes, sure.” I handed her another card. She dug into her purse,
found a pen and wrote her name and number on the back of the second
card and gave it back, “So call me.”

I did, and the following Friday we went on
our first date; to the movies, where we saw
Summer Rental,
a
comedy with John Candy.

On one of our dates, we went to Six Flags
amusement park, which back then was very new and not as fancy as
today. In fact, just two years before it first opened, it had been
a failing wild animal drive-through preserve.

While there, I saw this very tall water slide
that looked like a lot of fun. “Diana, let’s check this out.”

“But the line looks so long,” Diana
commented.

“The line appears to be moving quickly. Let’s
get in line. It looks like a lot of fun.” So we did.

About halfway up this very long, very high
stairway to the top, I heard a guy behind me say, “This line is so
long. It’s taking too long to get to the top.”

The guy right behind me answered, “Don’t
worry. It’s about this time the cowardly chicken shits start losing
their nerve and start walking back down the stairs, making the line
shorter and the wait shorter as well.”

As if on cue, Diana, who was in the stairway
line ahead of me and had not heard them, turned to me and
announced, “I’m sorry, Jack, but this is just getting too high for
me. I’m going to walk back down.”

“Would you like me to go back down the stairs
with you?” I asked, being the gentleman.

“No, you go on up, and I will be waiting for
you at the bottom.”

Just then I heard the guy behind me say,
“See, a real chicken-shit heading down the stairs.”

I turned to the guy and, emphasizing each
word, said, “That real chicken shit is my date. You will apologize
very quickly and very sincerely.” Glancing over the stairway
railing, about ten to twenty feet down, I added, “Or you may arrive
down the stairs a lot faster than my lady will.”

He got the message and really did sound as if
his apology was sincere. When Diana started walking back down the
stairs, I gave her lots of room and so did the guys. In fact
everyone was giving Diana a lot of room as she walked back down,
just as if she were Princess Diana, after all she was my princess.
How did I know about everyone moving out of her way, all the way
down the stairs? In her red one-piece bathing suit she was quite
the hot view, all the way down the stairs.

I enjoyed the slide down and at the bottom,
before I even got out of the water, I was lovingly attacked by my
Princess Diana.

Six months later we spent Christmas with her
mother and sister in Ohio. Our plans were to get there by train. I
ordered tickets for the both of us. I made a point of giving the
ticket person on the phone both of our single names for the
tickets. I even made the lady repeat it back. So of course, the
tickets came for “Mr. & Mrs. Jack Poisner.” On the train I
joked, “Well, as the train has pronounced us ‘man and wife’ shall
we consummate our marriage?” [Planes have their “One Mile Club” for
those who have sex on planes; what do trains have?]

Diana just smiled at the joke, a proper lady
like response to such a suggestive joke.

Diana grew up in one of those small towns
where everyone knew everyone, so she introduced me to lots of
friends. At one point, we were crossing the street within a
crosswalk when something strange happened. There was nothing around
us; the closest homes were a block away and there was nothing but
fields around us. As we crossed the street I heard a car slow to a
stop at least a half a block away.
Strange
.

Pointing the car out to Diana, I asked, “What
is he doing?”

“Being courteous,” she answered.

To my genuine surprise I answered, “Man, I am
not used to that.”

It was a lovely visit. Her mother could not
have been more charming and great to be around. I felt strange
sleeping nights in her bed, but she swore she spent more nights
sleeping on the couch than she did in her own bed anyway. Diana
slept in her old bed in a room she grew up sharing with her sister,
Chris.

Two months later, I gave her a computer
printout that was a poem that asked her to marry me and have my
children. Computer printouts outside a computer complex were rare.
I thought she would be impressed with the uncommonness of it.
Eagerly waiting for an answer she simply said, “It does not rhyme
well.”

About a month later, on my birthday she gave
me a birthday card that had inked in very large print, “YES”
inside.

Six months later we were married. One of my
fondest memories of our wedding day, I did not even learn about
until years later. We had agreed not to shove wedding cake into
each other’s face, so when I went to feed Diana her piece of cake I
took careful aim for her mouth. I succeeded in this performance
only because as the cake was about to go up her nose, she
quickly went up on her toes so the cake made it to her
mouth
.

After we married, she moved into my
apartment. Eventually, with two incomes, we started looking for a
house we could afford. When we started to look around, Diana said,
“Jack, you know the bad shape my mother’s house is in—it’s falling
apart around her. Then she has to take care of my sister, Chris,
with her birth-related disability. Mom’s only job is a part-time
job that’s a four hour round-trip. Lately, she’s been having some
health problems of her own. Do you think we could find a house big
enough that my mother and sister could move in with us?” I assumed
as Diana was the oldest of six, she felt the most responsible for
her mother and sister.

The health problem was news to me. She seemed
healthy during our visit. With concern, I asked, “What is this
health problem? I don’t recall her having any problem, other than
her bad back, when we were visiting with her during Christmas.”

“It started shortly after Christmas. I don’t
know all the details as she is reluctant to talk about it. What do
you think, about my mother and sister moving in with us?”

After giving it some thought and seeing no
problems, I said, “I think your mother is something special, like
her daughter. Your sister and I sure hit it off when I visited for
Christmas. If we can find a place big enough and affordable, I see
no problem in having them move in with us.”

We did find a place big enough. Our future
home had two bedrooms on the ground floor, one bigger than the
other. When we viewed the house, the bigger room was being used as
an office. I could easily see using the room as a bedroom, as this
“office” came with its own closet. With two more large bedrooms
upstairs, that gave us enough bedrooms for mother-in-law and
sister-in-law on the ground floor, and upstairs, one for Diana and
me and one room for a child. We figured if we had two children, one
boy and one girl, the girl could share a room with her live-in
Auntie.

Her mother, Elaine, and sister, Chris, were
indeed no problem at all. All newlyweds have their adjustment
period. While we never fought, we did have our arguments, some more
heated than others. It always impressed me that Diana’s mother
refused to get in the middle of our marital conflicts. I did
quickly learn that I had to watch my tone anywhere near Chris; if I
raised my voice she would run off and bury herself in her
room—something to do with her upbringing with her father. You’ll
never hear any mother-in-law jokes from me. Unfortunately it turned
out my mother-in-law was even sicker than any of us knew, and a
little over a year after she moved in with us, we were back in Ohio
giving this fine lady her final rest.

Over the years, my workplace had developed,
and my boss enjoyed showing off this work area. Going from left to
right, there was a copier with all its controls that were wired to
a Kurzweil reader with its control panel. (Papers and paperbacks
fed to the copier would be verbally read by the Kurzweil, while a
copy would be saved within the computer.) The Kurzweil was wired to
my PC, so that what was read to me from the copier went to the IBM
PC. The PC had its keyboard, plus a Jaws control panel so I could
tell the PC how I wanted information on the PC screen voiced
[output] to me. Next to the PC was a CCTV magnifier with its dials
and switches that could vastly magnify specs for programs under
development. Next to the CCTV was a printer with all its controls.
My boss just loved showing off
my cockpit
. Eventually,
someone went so far as to add a poster of an airline cockpit to the
wall behind my equipment.