Renewal; A Tale of Katrina's Kitchen

Reveal and Recommendation

"My God!" Jonah whispered, "My God, I killed her."

"Relax. Who did you kill, one of the farmers' wives? A townie from back the way you came?" Jim put a hand on Jonah's shoulder. "We need to move on, they'll start looking for someone, anyone. I'm not about to be your scapegoat."

Jonah didn't move. "My fiance. Back east, New York City. It was me. I killed her. Oh my God, I killed her."

"Aw, shit man. You really didn't know." Jim sat down again, relieved at least there was no lynch mob was on its way.

"Why don't I remember? What's wrong with me? How could this be true? This cant be real. It's crazy. I'm insane. I killed her and tore her apart with my bare hands?" Jonah looked at Jim, hoping he'd start laughing and calling him the biggest fool in the universe.

"Not with your bare hands. With claws and fangs, brother. Claws and fangs."

"Why do you keep calling me 'brother', are you a killer too?"

"I have killed, yes. But not the way you do. I call you 'brother' because both of us have...let's call it an affliction."

Jonah let out a giggle bordering on hysteria, "Affliction, what a nice way to put it. And what, you're a vampire?"

"Why yes! Yes I am." Jim answered. He watched Jonah warily, the stress could push him into a spontaneous transformation. Not something he wanted to deal with this close to sunrise.

Jonah sat still. He had stopped giggling. Just stared straight ahead for several minutes. Finally he turned to Jim. "Kill me."

"No. Not happening. You don't really mean it, give yourself time to..."

"To what? Kill someone else's fiance" Jonah stood suddenly, Jim backed up to give himself room. "You enjoy your killing?"

"I don't kill anymore. I got some therapy. It helped. I learned to control my urges."

"Therapy. So, there's a listing in the yellow pages for monster shrinks." Jonah sneered.

Jim remained wary, "There are people that understand how to help those of us with afflictions. That's what they call it. We didn't ask for this. It happened to us."

"But how does something like this happen to someone? I'm pretty sure I was never bit by a rabid wolf. I don't think it runs in my family. I mean, you'd think someone would have said something, right?" Jonah had started pacing, trying to find a way to unlearn this new information.

Jim shrugged, "I don't know about werewolves. I was attacked by a vampire. I was made this way by someone else. Werewolves? I don't know. But there are people that try to figure it out. Try to help us be as normal as possible."

"How does one find these people?"

Jim sighed, "I found one by accident. I was drawn to this little town out in the sticks of Nebraska. Renewal, Nebraska. I'll tell you how to get there. Then ask for Catherine Crowe. She helped me."

*****

Jonah had made his way to Renewal. Throughout his journey, his mind kept repeating the conversation with Jim. Trying to find a way to deny what he was told. There had been a few more 'episodes' along the way. Each one making that attempt at denial harder.

Having finally reached his destination, he walked a tightrope of hope and despair. Praying Catherine Crowe would cure him. Jim had said she was more like a counselor, but he didn't want to believe he would have to learn to live with this nightmare.

It was with a sense of defeat that he found she was long dead. Also a sense of confusion. Jim couldn't have been more than thirty. Yet, Catherine's granddaughter, Katie, said she had passed twenty five years ago. Had Jim been playing with him? Or had he been truthful, just had not taken into consideration that, being a vampire time moved differently for him.

Jonah hadn't made any plans beyond finding Catherine. Now he wasn't sure what to do or where to go. The hope he had been nurturing was a dead thing.

His thoughts went back to Katie Crowe. She had welcomed him warmly. Had given him a job and helped him find a place to stay. Why? Had she known what her grandmother's side job was?

Jonah snorted at his own grasp for hope. "Right, it's a family business. Passed down from generation to generation. She got her grandma's restaurant, that doesn't' mean she got the crazy gene too." He returned to his room, sleep would not be returning. His stomach had begun cramping, he needed air. He pulled on a pair of jeans, then grabbing a shirt he silently descended the stairs and let himself out.

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