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Confirm Your Admission and Get Your JAMB Admission Letter

2013-09-23T04:02:00.000-07:00

You can check your admission status for free and get your admission letter here

ABOUT THE JAMB ADMISSION LETTER

The Original JAMB Admission letter is a document that officially certifies that you have been offered provisional admission into any degree programme in a Nigerian Higher Institution.

The admission letters currently available are admissions from the year 2004 to 2013.

It contains information about the school you were offered admission, the faculty/school/college, department, the degree you are pursuing and the duration of the course.

Without this document, you cannot authentically prove to any body that you were offered admission into any higher institution in Nigeria. It is issued by ONLY JAMB, the official Educational board in Nigeria for Tertiary Institutions.

Uses Of this document

Sample of Jamb admission letter

The JAMB Admission Letter is very important as it is usually required if;

1. You need to successfully complete your admission registration and clearance process.
2. You need to be approved and deployed for the National Youth Service Programme (NYSC).
3. You need to succesfully apply for a scholarship. Most Companies and Organizations will request for it.
4. You need to further your education locally or abroad.

As you can see, the document is exceptionally important hence the need to protect it and ensure that it is always available to you.

The Original JAMB Admission letters from 2004 to 2013 are currently available and Myschool trained staff can professional help you get it and send it to your email box, making sure you ALWAYS have it available to you anytime, anywhere.

The copy we are sending to your email box is Original and JAMB Approved and has the following advantages;

1. It is the Original Copy from JAMB and is accepted in any school or Organization.
2. It will be sent to your email box where you can reprint anytime and anywhere you are.
3. No scratch card is required for re-printing. Print hundreds of times.
4. It is always safe in your box. Even if you misplace one copy, simply log into your email box and reprint the original.

How to Obtain your Admission letter

The 1st step to getting your admission letter is to check your admission status for that year to ensure you have been admitted. Once you have confirmed your admission status,
Either you choose the 1st or 2nd Method
1. You are to pay the sum of N1800 (One Thousand Eight Hundred Naira only) and the admission letter will be sent to your email. To get full bank details on how to pay, email: jay_super@rocketmail.com. Note that after payment is confirmed, the admission letter will be sent to your email after 6hrs in pdf format which you can reprint as many times as you wish. Thanks.

After payment, you will be given the number that you will send your information like [Service Type], [Admission Year], [JAMB REG. NO],[Email] and [phone number]
e.g.
JAMB ADMISSION LETTER
2013
1234567HJ
example@yahoo.com

080********

Note the admission that will be sent to you is of 3pages, the 1st page is about Efcc (You don't need to print), the 2nd page is the admission letter (for institution use only) and the 3rd page is admission letter (for candidate use only). All will be sent to you.

2. You have to get the admission letter scratch card at Jamb office at Ikoyi and then go online to process it. After that, you download the file in pdf format you can now print and attach it to your mail. Any mistake on the Reg no, the scratch it useless, you have to get another one...so be very careful.

Thanks, you can also visit more updates of my blog page and tertiaryprojects.blogspots.com for your school projects for free.

EFFECTS OF COLLAPSING FAMILY SYSTEM

2013-09-19T04:11:00.001-07:00

EFFECTS OF COLLAPSING FAMILY SYSTEM

A family consists of husband, wife and children. It is generally believed that the training of a child and the future of every society start from there. Therefore, one can safely conclude that any society which does not have an ideal family system cannot guarantee a good and peaceful environment as well as a better future. Abnormal behaviours such as sexting (you remember Weiner who wanted to be Mayor of New York), sexual harassment of subordinates (allegation against Mayor of San Diego), corruption (allegation against Hon Justice Joseph Wowo, Nigerian born former Chief Justice of Gambia) or serious crime like Boko Haram, unwarranted suicide, rampage shooting and terrorism as a way of protest, are undoubtedly regrettable consequences of a society that loses its value.

Unfortunately, noble family life has gradually eroded and family system has completely broken down on the surface of the earth. Although some have argued these are biblical signs of end time, a cursory look at the route of this will show that the problem is foundational and has to do with continued lack of respect for custom, culture and good reason.

The problem became full blown with the famous world conference of women which presumably sought to liberate women worldwide and put them on a collision course against their husbands. Many men believe that the conference redefined humanity against the way God defined it and attempted to establish women as rivals to their husbands. Modernity did not help the situation in Europe and other places. Hence the emergence of single mothers, single fathers, legal partners, gays, lesbians, call girls, foster parents, nannies, house maids and house helps. To be candid, all these have always been incessant divorce, legal separation, suicide, witchcraft and unholy fight for custody of children. Boys, girls, men, women, grandpa and grandma all now advertise for sex through the various social networks.

Bad leadership, especially in developing countries, accounts for about 60% of why good family system became a thing of the past. The politician is greedy. The military which sought to rescue the situation ended up looting the treasury. Because they stole so much money, they make laws for every family to have not more than four children, but when they realise that they acquired more wives when they became emergency billionaires, they changed the law and redirected it at women. Politicians grew up under a good family system. They went to good schools established by those who meant well for the society. They enjoyed scholarships and inherited the reins of power at a very tender age when they had the strength to positively affect their society.

Unfortunately, the leaders now come out to say that scholarship is no longer possible. They have no programme for the children. They jeopardise the cultural value of having parental consent before marriage. They engage in freelance sexual relationships, breed children like flies and induce innocent girls and sometimes married women into sex trade.

Children who are supposed to be raised jointly by the father and mother and society at large, are now raised by a single mum, or single dad, or two mums (lesbians), or two dads (gays) or grand mum or grand dad or foster parents. Studies have shown that a greater percentage of the children who grew up under the above circumstances become vagabonds and exhibit abnormal social behaviours at the end.

Today in many jurisdictions across the world, parental consent which used to be a major requirement before a man and a woman can be joined as husband and wife, is no longer necessary. Two adults are now perceived to be able to make a choice for each other. The consequence of this ignoble shift has been bickering in homes, incessant separation or divorce and outright neglect of the children of the marriage.

It is generally believed that the infamous world conference which sought to liberate world women ended up having a negative effect of creating world competition in peaceful homes. Or how can a woman who wants to pursue a career and surpass her husband be able to breastfeed a child for the recommended six months. Children then grow up on artificial cereal that lacks the God-given ingredients to sustain them in life. Many modern career women don’t get to meet their children until Saturday morning. They go to work 5am and return to the house every day when the children would have retired to bed. Why would drivers, door men, gate men, guards, house girls and house boys not harass the children in this circumstance.

Attempts to kill custom and culture so far have ended in killing the future of the society. In the good old days, it was fashionable for women to define themselves by the identity of their husbands like, Mrs Judy Grange, the wife of Isaiah Grange. In the modern decayed days, women take pride in self. They acquire properties without telling their husbands. They exercise their unlimited freedom to join societies of their choice, go for meetings and unscheduled journeys, not minding the effect on the family. Unfortunately, after acquiring the fortune, what they are able to get belongs to them alone, while the one suffered for by the husband is commonwealth.

Yet, under the various Marriages Acts, the husband is under obligation to provide food, housing and accommodation to his wife. The leaders are so greedy and they always pursue an agenda each time they domesticate foreign laws or treaties without caution. Hence, no proviso, to guard against the subjugation of men to their wives in equality laws, under the guise of a gender induced world conference. Studies have shown that about 90% of men who suffer harassment from their wives are unable to speak out. There are stories of women are so criminally minded that cut off their husband’s manhood as a result of disagreement.

However, modern gender liberation struggle no doubt has earned more advantages to women. Women live longer life than their husbands. The reason is that a thoroughly stressed and harassed man cannot stand the rigours of life. The man goes back home quickly and prematurely while the woman remains on the surface of the earth and enjoy the fruit of labour of the hapless man.

Children raised under a decayed family system are no doubt a threat to the society whereas, children raised under an ideal family system usually bring hope and peace. The best material for marriage used to be from the church or mosque or prayer homes, but now, attention has shifted to spouses from an ideal family setting where father lived with mother and the children of the marriage.

Prayer may not be enough for the return of an ideal family system. We may need to rebrand and re-orientate society that recklessness or negligence or competition in marriage cannot carry any woman far. The children will suffer at the end of the day. Women should discard the philosophy that one man cannot fill a woman’s cupboard as there is no need for a woman’s cupboard to be filled. Women need not to compete with men, but complement their husbands. As regards the men, although the God who created the earth has ordained the man as the head, they should realise that women are not tails after all. The task of having an ideal society lies in men and women.

Several Messages about "The Seal of the Living God" given to the visionary Maria Divine Mercy:

2013-09-13T09:53:00.001-07:00

Several Messages about "The Seal of the Living God" given to the visionary Maria Divine Mercy:
God the Father: Rise now and accept My Seal, the Seal of the Living God Monday, February 20th, 2012. My beloved daughter My heart heaves in sorrow for the sins of My children. Like any loving Father their wicked hatred for each other tears My heart in two. It is like a sword piercing My heart which will not go away.
I am God of the Most High who, because of the free will I have given to all of My children, will have to suffer enduring pain until the New Paradise on earth evolves. Then you will My children join in unison with My Holy Will.
Until that happens there can be no peace on earth. Only when the evil one, and those who slavishly follow the lies he promised, are destroyed finally can the world become calm.
My daughter tell My children that I do not relish the thoughts of punishing My children for I love them. They are Mine, My cherished creation. To see how the evil one has corrupted their souls is a constant torment to Me, their beloved Father. I desire to take all of you loving children who know and understand My love for you, into My beautiful New Paradise on earth. I promise you that the persecution will be swift and that you will be protected. For I now bequeath the Seal of My Love and Protection. With this you will escape the notice of those who will cause hardship in your countries.
My Seal is My promise of Salvation. My power will surge through you with this seal and no harm will come to you. This is a miracle children, and only those who bow before Me, their Lord and Creator of all things, as little children with love in their hearts for Me, can be blessed with this divine gift. Rise now and accept My Seal, the Seal of the Living God.
Recite this Crusade Prayer (33) to acknowledge My Seal and accept it with love, joy and gratitude.
“O My God, My Loving Father, I accept with love and gratitude Your Divine Seal of Protection. Your Divinity encompasses my body and soul for eternity. I bow in humble thanksgiving and offer my deep love and loyalty to You my Beloved Father. I beg You to protect me and my loved ones with this special Seal and I pledge my life to Your service forever and ever.
I love You Dear Father. I console You in these times Dear Father. I offer You the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Son In atonement for the sins of the world and for the salvation of all Your children. Amen.” Go, My children and do not fear. Trust in me, your beloved Father who lovingly created each of you. I know every single soul, every part of you is known to Me. Not one of you is loved less than the other. Because of this I do not want to lose one soul. Not one. Please continue to pray My Divine Mercy chaplet every day. One day, you will understand why this purification is needed. Your loving Father in Heaven
God of the Most High
Don’t you know that the Holy Spirit cannot and will not enter the souls of those with hardened hearts?
Wednesday, February 29th, 2012 @ 05:30 pm. My dearly beloved daughter the timing of My Father’s will is not for your knowing. My followers must be patient as everything in the world will evolve as prophesied in My Father’s Book. All of this will be according to My Father’s timing and the effect that your prayers will have in helping to avert global wars. It is not long for all My promises to be fulfilled. You, My followers, must trust in Me, your beloved Jesus. Pray for souls and leave everything in My hands.
Never forget to pray to My Father as often as you can for the Seal of the Living God in order to protect you and your families. Crusade Prayer (33) to ask for the Seal of the Living God and accept it with love, joy and gratitude.
Ensure also that you encourage others to pray the seven day
Crusade Prayer (24) Plenary Indulgence for Total Absolution – (see also page 4) to seek redemption for your sins.
O, My Jesus, You are the light of the earth. You are the flame that touches all souls. Your mercy and love knows no bounds. We are not worthy of the sacrifice You made by Your death on the cross. Yet we know that Your love for us is greater than the love we hold for You. Grant us, O Lord, the gift of humility so that we are deserving of Your New Kingdom. Fill us with the Holy Spirit so we can march forth and lead Your army to proclaim the truth of Your Holy Word and prepare our brothers and sisters for the Glory of Your Second Coming on earth. We honor You! We Praise You! We offer ourselves, our sorrows, our sufferings as a gift to You, to save souls. We love You! Jesus have Mercy on all Your children wherever they may be! Amen.

To those who challenge this special gift of prayer in which I offer total absolution you must know this. I am Jesus Christ, the Son of Man and have been given the authority to forgive all sins. My sacred priests have also been given the power to forgive sin through the Holy Sacrament of Confession. I request that you accept My gift of absolution for the benefit of those who cannot receive the Sacrament of Confession or for those who are not members of the Roman Catholic Church.
Would you deny these precious souls the right to My gift? Why would you try to discourage those souls who accept My Divine Word from receiving absolution? Would you rather they did not redeem themselves in My eyes?
You must show love to your brothers and sisters and be happy that they are being given this special gift by Me their beloved Jesus. Even if they never read My messages given to you, My daughter, every sinner has the right to ask Me to forgive them once they show true remorse in their souls. Open your hearts and pray for the gift of humility. Don’t you know that the Holy Spirit cannot and will not enter the souls of those with hardened hearts?
Your Divine Savior Jesus Christ
My Seal of Protection is foretold as the second seal is broken   Thursday, March 8th, 2012 @ 07:52 pm
My dearest daughter the world has awaited this moment for two thousand years. Some with fear in their hearts, others with anticipation and wonder as to when this moment would come and now it has. This is the time I send My end time profit, you Maria, to finally present the Book of truth which reveals the contents of the Book of Revelation. I am the God for whom all of My children are crying out for in these terrible times. It is I to whom they, My distressed children, must call out for now. I gather My family together at this time so that we can unite in the final battle to slay the dragon who has tormented the earth for so long. Children do not be afraid. No harm will come to those who wear My Seal, the Seal of the Living God.
Satan and his fallen angels, who infest the world at this time, do not have the authority over those who have the Mark of the Living God. You must listen to Me children and accept My Seal for it will save not only your lives but your souls. Recite the Prayer (33) to receive My Seal every day. Ensure that each member of your family and loved ones understand the significance of My Seal. Your love for Me, your Heavenly Father, will be your saving grace and it will give you the strength that you need.

My Seal of protection is foretold as the second seal is broken. The rider of the red horse is the avenging dark angel who will slay My children in the many wars to come. But he will pass over those of My children with the seal on their foreheads. Prepare now for these wars are already happening and more are being planned in every corner of the earth and, especially, in the Middle East and in those lands upon which My precious Son, Jesus Christ, walked during His time on earth.
Your Beloved Father
God the Most High
Second Seal: World War 3   Wednesday, May 16th, 2012 @ 03:10 am. My dearest beloved daughter I must inform you that a third world war is about to unfold in the world. My tears flow this morning as you can see.* The Second Seal is about to unfold as foretold to John the Evangelist in the Book of Revelation. It will start in Europe. Your banking system will be the cause and Germany, once again, will be involved in this tragedy as it was on the last two occasions. When it commences much will be over saving the economy and catastrophe will affect Greece with much fallout in France. The Middle East will also be involved with Israel and Iran at war and Syria will play a serious part in the downfall of Egypt. My daughter I wake you to tell you this, not to frighten you, but to urge much prayer for Europe at this time.
Because of war and lack of money, much of the harvest will be lost and this will lead to the opening of the Third Seal which means famine. This is why I now urge all of God’s children to try to stock pile dried and non-perishable food to feed your families. It is important to grow your own harvest if possible. Remember, however, that prayer can mitigate much of this suffering. The effect of this war will be that My Catholic Church on earth will be sucked into a one world church, in the name of unification. This unification, or false peace, will become a reality after the antichrist appears to create a false peace and a so called end to the war.
This peaceful pact will involve the western world until China and Russia become involved with world matters. They will pose a threat to the ‘Beast with the Ten Horns’, Europe, and will overcome them to introduce communism.
The ‘Red Dragon’, China, already gains a strong foothold in the world because of their control of the world’s finances.
The Red Dragon and “The Bear” which is Russia do not love God. They are being led by the antichrist who is from the east and who hides behind closed doors. When these prophesies unfold the whole world will believe in these messages. There will be no doubts then. Please recite this Crusade Prayer as it will help dilute the impact of these events.
Crusade Prayer (54) Prayer to the Father to dilute impact of World War 3.
O Heavenly Father in the name of Your Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, who suffered greatly for the sins of mankind, please help us in these difficult times we face. Help us to survive the persecution being planned by greedy rulers and those who want to destroy Your Churches and Your children. We implore You Dear Father to help feed our families and save the lives of those who will be forced into a war against their will. We love You Dear Father. We beg You to help us in our time of need. Save us from the grip of the antichrist. Help us to survive his mark, the mark of the beast, by refusing to accept it. Help those who love You to remain true to Your Holy Word at all times so that You can bestow on us the graces to survive in Body and Soul. Amen.
My daughter, I realize that this news may come as a shock but remember that prayer and the Seal of the Living God Crusade Prayer number (33) will protect My followers. My Remnant Church, you My children, will survive although it will not be easy. You will be bullied because of your Christianity but you will never denounce Me or reject Me. For this you will be given gifts. My Gift of the Seal of the Living God will render you invisible to your enemies. Recite it every day from now on. Keep it before you in your homes and have it blessed by a priest. (see p.1)
Begin your preparation soon for the day of the fallout in Europe is not far away.
Your Jesus                *Note : When Maria was taking down this message a wet tear rolled down the photo of Jesus in front of her. Virgin Mary- My visionaries in the world will be instructed to pray in order to avert the dangers associated with a world war. Wednesday, May 16th, 2012 @ 09:00 am
My child please try to remain strong in this work for my Son. It is important that all those who believe in the Truth of the Holy Word, being given to the world at this time, remain calm. Your duty is to respond to my beloved Son’s instructions. Prayer and trust in my Son will bring about your salvation. The gift of the Seal of the Living God will be your biggest protection at a time of war or strife. By pledging allegiance to God the Father, through the acceptance of this free gift, you will remain free. Never forget the power of prayer and how it can dilute the impact of such events.
Sadly, many of these events must come to pass for they have been prophesized. Children, I call on all those who revere me, your Blessed Mother, to understand that this is calling from Heaven. All my visionaries in the world will be instructed to pray in order to avert the dangers associated with a world war. You must persevere in your suffering and offer it as a gift to God the Father. My daily Rosary is important at this time no matter what Christian Church you belong to. You must recite it because it offers protection to those nations who say it daily and in great numbers.
Pray, pray, pray for Europe at this time and turn to my Son and ask Him for the strength, courage and perseverance required to retain your trust in God. Your beloved Mother - Queen of Heaven and Earth - Mother of Salvation
Virgin Mary: This Seal was foretold in the Book of John Thursday, May 17th, 2012 @ 08:50 am My child, God’s children will be able to protect their faith, their courage and their safety during any war if they continue to pray the Seal of the Living God Crusade Prayer. This is one of the last, and the greatest Seal of Protection, sent from the Heavens of all prayers given to humanity. It is to help sustain all during any future persecution, especially at times of domination and war. This Seal was foretold in the Book of John and has many divine powers associated with it. Cherish it and use it to protect, not only yourselves, but your families. This reminder is needed at this time.
Go in peace. Your Beloved Mother - Mother of Salvation A Pledge of allegiance to the Divine Will of God the Father Wednesday, June 13th, 2012 @ 04:00 pm
My dearly beloved daughter just as My Eternal Father bequeathed the Great Gift to humanity of His Seal so, too, must His children pledge their allegiance to His Divine Will. I ask all of God’s children who will march forth in His army to help save the souls of all God’s children, including hardened sinners, to take this pledge:
Crusade Prayer (59)
A Pledge of Allegiance to the Divine Will O God the Most High, O Heavenly Father, I pledge to You my firm allegiance to honor and obey You in all things united to Your Divine Will on earth. I, through the Sacred Blood of Your only beloved Son, the True Messiah, offer You my mind, my body and my soul on behalf of all souls so that we can unite as one in Your Heavenly Kingdom to come, so that Your Divine Will is done on earth as it is in Heaven. Amen.
You must pledge your souls to My Heavenly Father as a token of your Faith and in memory of My Death on the Cross so that each of you will drink from the Cup of Salvation.
Your Jesus Message from July 6th, 2012 (excerpts) - Pray, My followers, for the courage and the fortitude to deal with thee chastisements. You must never fear them for you, My army, will pray for those, those nations and help in the needed purification for the conversion of humanity.
The Seal of the Living God will protect each and every one of you. Message of God the Father from Sunday, July 15th, 2012 (excerpts) - Never fear because those with the Seal of the Living God are not only protected but are given the graces to defend the Word of God so that as many souls as possible will be given the Gift of Life. Jesus reveals Plenary Indulgence for total absolution   Tuesday, January 31st, 2012 @ 09:30 pm My dearly beloved daughter how I rejoice at the love shown to Me by My precious followers whose love is so closely entwined with My Sacred Heart.
I delight in My loyal children whose love for Me brings Me such joy amidst My pain. They are the light that bring Me the strength needed to lead My army. These, My chosen children, believe that it has been their faith alone that has brought them to Me. What they do not realize is that My Holy Spirit descended upon them, especially on those with open hearts, so that they could join My remnant Church on earth. They, My beloved followers, who show obedience, determination of will and pure love in their souls will be the foundation upon which I will now rebuild My church on earth.
My army, through their love for Me, will be given very special graces now. I grant them this Plenary Indulgence to enable them carry My torch of fire so that they can spread conversion. This gift from me will enable them to spread the truth of My Holy Word so that it will touch hearts everywhere they go. They must say this prayer for seven consecutive days and they will be given the gift of total absolution and the power of the Holy Spirit.
(24) Crusade Prayer: Plenary Indulgence for Absolution
Go forth in peace My beloved followers and remember that your love for Me enkindles My heart and brings great joy to My Eternal Father, My Blessed Mother, the angels and all the saints in Heaven. I love you all. I await the moment when I will embrace each and every one of you in My arms so that you will find the peace, love and joy that you have been awaiting for all your lives on earth. - Your Beloved Jesus Christ Fornication, pornography and prostitution all mortal sins Thursday, February 9th, 2012 @ 03:00 pm (excerpts)
I talk about fornication so easily accepted in the world today, participating in and viewing pornography, prostitution and sexual abuse. I refer to hatred for others as well as those who cause pain and misery to those less fortunate than themselves. So, too, is the sin of idolatry where you worship material goods above everything else yet they are nothing but ashes…
Then it becomes very difficult to free yourself from the grip placed upon you by the king of darkness. Wake up children. Be aware of the existence of Hell and be very fearful of entering the gates of eternal damnation. I tell you this not to frighten you but to ensure that you understand that mortal sin will lead you there unless you turn back to Me now. Prayer and much of it will be needed to turn back to Me but hear this.
If those of you who are desperate, sorrowful and feel helpless because of the abyss of sin you are in I will forgive you. You must show true remorse and go to confession now. If you cannot go to confession then say My (24) Crusade Prayer for a Plenary Indulgence for Absolution for a period of seven consecutive days. The admin-team of the www.thewarningsecondcoming.com published the following information about the correct download of the "Seal of the Living God": Seal of Living God available in different languages

( http://www.thewarningsecondcoming.com/seal-of-living-god-available-in-different-languages/ ) 2012-05-22 11:05:12 admin. The Seal of the Living God is being designed and replicated in a number of different languages including German, Polish, French, Hungarian, Portugese, Spanish and Japanese to begin with. As soon as they are ready they will be uploaded through a link on our home page. Please note that the Seal which is COMPLETELY FREE OF CHARGE can only be downloaded from this website ( = www.thewarningsecondcoming.com) irrespective as to which language it is in. We are arranging for the Seals to be blessed by a priest before they are uploaded in all languages. Thank you for your patience. Check back with us soon. Admin Team

Only those with the Seal of the Living God will escape this form of genocide of the soul

Thursday, April 4th, 2013

My dearly beloved daughter, you must not listen to those who question, challenge and sneer at My Messages. It is not necessary to defend My Most Holy Word. My Word is final and no man has the authority to question it. You either accept Me, or you don’t.

While Christians fight amongst themselves over these Messages, which were prophesied so long ago, they treat each other as enemies. You cannot be an enemy to your brother or sister and call yourself My disciple. While you are so busy shouting amongst yourselves, the biggest enemy, Satan’s armies are planning the most evil atrocities, ever witnessed by humanity since the creation of Adam and Eve.

The wars I spoke about are to commence and the plan will be to wipe out populations. You may think that these wars are between one nation and another, but you would be wrong. The weapons will come from only one source.

My poor children of God, how little you know of the terrible acts, which are being plotted by Masonic sects at the highest levels against God’s children. Their wickedness would be impossible for you to imagine, but recognize these signs. When your banks take away your freedom, your homes and your ability to feed your families, this will be just one part of their plan against humanity. You will become slaves, but those who pay allegiance to Me and My Teachings and who remain loyal to Me, must never forget My Mercy.

While these revelations may be frightening, they are the Truth. By being prepared for these acts against God’s Creation, you will help, through your prayers, to mitigate much of the suffering, which these evil sects will inflict upon you. While your prayers will dilute the impact of such atrocities, they will, if handed over to Me with love in your hearts, be used to save those guilty of such terrible deeds. And while these misguided and cold-hearted souls continue to defy Me, by trying to eradicate the world’s populations, I will try to enlighten their hearts so that they will walk away from this terrible bond with Satan. Many are completely possessed by the evil one and for some there is little hope. Only a miracle granted by My Mercy, in union with those who offer Me the gift of suffering, can save them.

Those amongst you who curse Me, through your cruel rejection of Me, will beg Me for Mercy when these events occur. When you are forced to suffer and accept the mark of the beast, or die, you will scream out for Me. Then you will scramble to find the Seal of the Living God, which I give to the world through My Father in these Messages – but by then it will be too late. Only those who accept the Seal, keep it in their homes, or carry it on them will be protected. Only those with the Seal of the Living God will escape this form of genocide of the soul.

Do not doubt, for one minute, My Messages given to you now. Accept My Divine Intervention, for I only want to save you. The battle for souls is of such magnitude, that were I not to intervene, through the prophets, many of you would side with the beast and all of his followers, who appear before you as wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Satan is extremely cunning, and would never present his evil deeds for what they are. No, instead, he will present them as being good, inspiring and very much in your interests. This is the trap he sets. This is how he lures well-meaning innocent souls into his lair. The way Satan will reveal himself, through these poor souls he manages to win over, will be through the sin of pride. The sin will, in its most wicked form, be seen within those people in high places, who will destroy others for their own selfish gain. At the bottom of the scale the sin of pride will be witnessed amongst you when you judge others, bad-mouth them and then try to ruin their character, as well as damage their reputation, in My Name.

I tell you these sad facts, so that I can prepare you, arm you with My Loving Protection, so that I can help save even those who will march across the earth in order to devour it.

Your Jesus

My dearly beloved daughter, when the time comes for the beast to reveal the antichrist, great signs will be seen. Thunder, as it has never been heard before, will be felt in many parts of the world, but in particular, the part where the antichrist was born.

By then My Holy Spirit, poured out amongst My followers, in all of My Christian Churches, will ensure that they are ready. They, along with My disciples from this Mission will form the Remnant Church. Their power will be great and no harm will come to those with the Seal of the Living God. Their power will come from the Prayers given to them by My Mother and in the Crusade Prayers.

The antichrist will begin his reign gently. No one will suspect his intent because a peace of sorts will descend over the Earth. This time will be very important for you, My Remnant Army, to gather in Prayer Groups. I solemnly promise that these Prayers will dilute much of the terrible deeds that he, the antichrist, will inflict on nations covering the four corners of the Earth.

I will grant reprieves to all those nations where Prayer Groups are set up. It will be by your devotion to Me, your beloved Jesus, that I will save souls and pour out more Gifts upon humanity, in order to protect God’s children against the suffering which the beast is plotting.

Trust in Me. Be at peace in the knowledge that you are being guided and protected.

Your Jesus

DESTINY ON HOLD

2013-09-13T04:52:00.001-07:00

DESTINY ON HOLD

Acts 24:24-27
And after certain days, when Felix came with his wife Drusilla, which was a Jewess, he sent for Paul, and heard him concerning the faith in Christ.
and as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, go thy way for this time; when i have a convenient season, i will call for thee.
He hoped also that money should have been given him of Paul, that he might loose him: wherefore he sent for him the oftener, and communed with him.
but after two years porcius festus came into Felix' room: and Felix, willing to shew the Jews a pleasure, left paul bound.

A governor named Felix heard Paul preach the gospel and trembled concerning the impending judgment the apostle spoke of. “Go away for the present; when I have a convenient opportunity, I will send for you,” the governor said. This is procrastination.
Procrastination simply means to keep postponing, or putting things off often indefinitely.
Procrastination is often described as the grave in which opportunity is buried. Procrastinators like Felix are usually presented great opportunities but alleged they are waiting for ideal conditions, perfect timing, and so on. The truth is there is no such thing as an ideal condition or perfect timing.
Ecclesiastes 11:4 says: “He that observes the wind shall not sow; and he that regarded the clouds shall not reap.”
A Kenyan proverb says, “A good plan today is better than a perfect one tomorrow”.
Do you have a project? Fix a deadline and enforce it. A goal without a time limit is a dead dream. Know that success always rises up to meet the man who does today what others are thinking of doing tomorrow.
Leornado Da Vinci’s story gives us a portrait of a procrastinator: the painter never finished a project on time and a number of his works were unfinished when he died. The Last Supper was only finished after his patron threatened to cut off all funding. Mona Lisa took twenty years to complete. The Adoration of the Magi, an early painting, was never finished and his equestrian projects were never built. So much around him was half-completed that he appealed to God, “Tell me if anything ever was done.”
NO ONE KNOWS TOMMOROW
Scripture says, Today is the day of salvation, and now is the hour! A man who keeps postponing the day of salvation will soon find himself in a literal hell.
“Do not boast yourself of tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth” (Proverbs 27:1).
I am sure you are familiar with the phrase “No one knows tomorrow”. Though it is an adage so well-worn, nonetheless it is a profound truth both as a phrasal parable about timeliness, and also the perfect paraphrase for God’s injunction against procrastination:
“How foolish it is to say, Today or tomorrow we will go into this town, and be there for a year and do business there and get wealth: When you are not certain what will take place tomorrow. What is your life? It is a mist, which is seen for a little time and then is gone” (James 4:13-14 BBE).
If you do not know what tomorrow holds, it makes no sense investing any assurances on it. Doing today what you’ve scheduled for tomorrow becomes expedient. All you’ve got in concrete terms is today; tomorrow counts, but it ticks today!
Redeem the time!
“See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16).
To redeem the time means to stamp a sense of urgency on everything you aim to do. Do you know most things you do today could have been done yesterday; and most you have scheduled for tomorrow could be done today and now?
Procrastination is a dead weight. At the end of the day, a procrastinator would have lost time, lost money, lost steam and lost faith. Experience has shown that that great thing you plan to do tomorrow may come too late. It would be a healing belated, an intervention ill-timed or an idea overtaken by events.
The truth is every task has its place in time, with the grace allotted for it. Once the grace is squandered, the task becomes twice as hard to accomplish. No wonder George Lorimer says,

“Putting off an easy thing makes it hard, and putting off a hard one makes it impossible.”

Don’t keep off; kick off! Don’t put off until tomorrow what you should kick off today. Take action, now. Get through with the valley of indecision and climb over the mountain of accomplishment.

Today is tomorrow; tomorrow is today!
Today is what tomorrow will be; tomorrow is what today is. So, forget tomorrow; all you’ve got in concrete terms is today. No one will celebrate you for what you will do tomorrow. Tomorrow counts, but it ticks today. If you don’t write a paragraph today, you won’t have a chapter tomorrow.
Let me tell you about Douglas Adams, a famous writer. For ten years he promised his publisher delivery of his manuscript The Salmon of Doubt but kept putting off writing the script and died even before completing a first draft.
You might say yours is not as bad, but it might be heading that way.
Success is tomorrow’s work today, not today’s work tomorrow.

Twenty four years waiting
In Smokies’ hit song, “Living Next Door to Alice.” The lyrics say in part,
“Twenty-four years waiting for a chance to tell her how I feel…”
By the time this amazingly patient procrastinator realized it, it was twenty-four years and Alice had gone off with another man. The song continues:
“Now I’ve got to get use to not living next door to Alice.”
This part of the song is terrifyingly true: every procrastinator will ultimately have to get used to living next door to nothing.
Reasons for procrastination
1.    Fear of the unknown. If you fear the unknown, you have no right to hope for a future, which is equally unknown.
2.    Fear of failure. It is fear that leads to failure. Face life like the victor Christ has made you.
3.    Fear of success. Some people fear the responsibility that comes with success, forgetting that failure is a grave and disastrous liability.
4.    Thinking you have all the time in the world. You don’t; once you’ve lost a day, you have handicapped a week.
5.    Distractiveness. Lack of focus and the tendency to engage in many endeavors at the same time can throw you into the arms of procrastination; consequently, never accomplishing any of your set goals.

How to overcome procrastination
1.    Set clear realizable goals. Targets that are unclear are unrealizable, and will breed frustration and resentment.
2.    Organize. Get all or most of what you need to finish your task before you start.
3.    Prioritize. Don’t major on the minor. Do what is most imperative first and do those with less consequence later.
4.     Focus. Insist on finishing one task before you take on another.
5.    Set a deadline. Fix a timeline and enforce it. Make the commitment.
6.    Face up to every task. Be bold and fearless. You can succeed and live with it.

He succeeds not who puts off success until another day;
once you’ve lost a day, you have handicapped a week!

INTRODUCTION TO PHONICS TO THE IDEAL TEACHER

2013-09-13T02:59:00.003-07:00

INTRODUCTION TO PHONICS TO THE IDEAL TEACHER

Phonetics is a study of speech and can be defined as a study of human sounds in general without reference to their systematic in a specific language. Phonetic can be divided into three types:

Production (Articulatory), Transmission (Acoustic), Perception (Auditive) of sounds while the sounds can be divided into consonants and vowels.

Let us now try these works.

Claf as kl hostel – hastel

Dove as DAV hotel – hau’tel

Meat meet are homography (sameness of sound)

Lead lead are homonymy (sameness of writing)

Bear bear sameness of sound and writing

Pull is called pul

INTRODUCTION OF PHONICS THE IDEAL TEACHER

Phonics teachings involve teaching children relationship between writing letters of the alphabets and individual sounds of language .i.e. phonemes

Phonemes are the smallest part of spoken language that combines to make up words. They are the speech sounds, not the actual letters, in a word.

For example the word look has four letters but only three phonemes (l, oo and k).

The English alphabet has 26 letters but around 43 phonemes (it’s hard to specify the exact number as they are variation due to accent and dialect).

The aim of phonics teaching is to help the learners understand that they are systematic relationships between letters and spoken sounds through the vagaries of English Language which means that these relationships are not always predictable. Knowledge of phonics helps children recognize familiar words and also decode new words, it means they are better equipped to enter in and enjoy the world of reading and pronouncing English words.

It is generally found that learners who struggle with reading have one of two main difficulties either comprehension problems or trouble identifying using and /or learning the sounds of speech that corresponds to the letter. Therefore we can correctly say that phonics teaching prepare our children for language learning and four the fact alone makes it worth the effort.

Approaches to phonics teachings include:

· Teaching children on how to convert letters or letter combinations into sounds and how to make these sounds into recognizable words.

· Teaching children to analyze letters-sound relationships in familiar words.

· Teaching children to use words families they in order to identify new words with similar letter/letter combinations.

· Teaching children to break words down into phonemes and to make words letters for phonemes

· Teaching children letter sound relationship during of connected text for the young learners, there ways to phonics teaching fun and imaginative. Many word games, word/picture activities, spellings, quizzes and so on can be adapted so as to be useful tools when it comes to teaching of phonics.

Numerous studies: This form of learning is distinguished by the particular vividness and clarity with which knowledge and ideas can be communicated. And it promotes a positive understanding of diversity of different approaches and of ways of viewing things from multiple perspective. For example by directly conveying reasonable answer and more than one solution to a problem.

A variety of changes (not only demographic ones, which schools are now having to deal with constructively) have made it clear that a homogeneous culture for all simply does not exist and that more than ever before. We are being called upon to take this into account. An approach based on rational, visual and emotional skills “lets children discover new world and come to grips with them in playful ways”.

The essential elements are perceptions and creatively, the enjoyment and adventure of seeing and hearing of trying things out of simulating playfully transformation and achieving new effects under controlled guidance and of course, time and time again invention. It is a matter of providing an indispensable and different means of success to the inner and outer worlds (apart from the cognitive approach through technologies and media. It is a proven fact that we need experiences using all the senses in order to develop neuro scientific research demonstrates how thinking is stimulated by the senses and full creatively requires neuro –plasticity.

Literacy: As an educational goal and key area of competence –must be more than learning a language as verbal means of expression and communication. Creative design takes place in many languages” schools must provide the time and space for this development of linguistics and non linguistics form of expression. Experiment situations must be permitted or created that will allow young people to make discoveries and develop new things or new modes of performance in their own language, in their own individual ways; using their own personal forms of expression teachers need to play.

CULTURAL KNOWLEDEGE AND UNDERSTANDING THE WORLD

2013-09-13T02:58:00.005-07:00

CULTURAL KNOWLEDEGE AND UNDERSTANDING THE WORLD

Cultural education is defined as learning and practicing the arts, as well as learning through the arts using transversal pedagogical means, should also be understood as using the arts for the promotion of cultural and social objectives in particular mutual respect, understanding and tolerance, appreciation of diversity team work and other social skills as well as creativity, personal development and the ability to innovative. The qualification and competent of our citizens are becoming our central ‘’raw material’’

Education typically takes place in schools and institutions of higher education, as well as in an informal way through media, cultural institution and art. Art can usefully reinforce formal education cultural and artistic means of education in particular at information and communication technologies have strongly increased the possibilities for, and the impact of cultural education, both informal and informal education.

Successful education implies logical and abstract thinking, imagination and sensibility, creativity as well as cultural memory with communication skills requires cognitive and social competences as well as literacy in broad sense , comprising not only speaking , reading writing literacy nut also numerical, cultural and artistic literacy.

Artistic communication could assist person experiencing difficulties in speaking, reading or writing irrespective of whether these are a result of physical, mental, or educational problem in order to fully exercise their right to education, persons with special need should have access to more intensive holistic educational including cultural education.

Literacy is a fundamental issue to particular in and actively contribute to in a democratize society. Although literacy in reading and writing is highly visible. This cultural literacy hinders participation in social life and the mutual understanding between different social groups.

Education must take into account social challenge. Our world is characterized by rapid changing increasing globalization and relations. Information education and knowledge are progressively becoming the driving forces behind our new social economic structures. The qualifications and competences of our citizens are thus becoming our center’’ Raw material’’ crucial factors of international competitions. They are the key to every country’s future.

In order to adequately prepare children and young people for vocational and social life, educational institution must not only understand changes in needs but anticipate them. In this sense, art and cultural are indispensable elements of a comprehensive education. The objective of which is to achieve the maximum benefit for and best possible development of each one every individual to participate actively in society as a constructive member of the community.

The ability to handle challenges encountered by each individual by society. The capacity to deal responsibly with resources and environment. Well developed interpersonal and communication, skills and a well developed facility of reflection, as well as the ability to learn, to make decisions and to act competently. All these are educational goals which when achieved will contribute substantially to a satisfying life.

The art and cultural education;

In this context, experience with the arts facilitates learning processes that are of pivotal importance for example, recognizing and relating to what is different ,or the capacity to develop transitions and interactions within a heterogeneous group. Like science, art can contribute to an overall process of development in society as a result of its view of the world and its approach to creativity. Moreover, cultural education creates a constructive basis for encounter and discussion, for co existence and co-operation it is a foundation of general education not a luxury that may be added when all other educational goals have been achieved.

The function of schools in the society is not only to give our children knowledge and skills but to open up sphere of experience and development in which young people can get to know themselves and become familiar with the world, and which will comprehensively foster the development of their personalities.

Education’’ in the arts’’ and therefore education ‘through the art’’ gives access to more widely defined cultural education and are an essential part of it at the same time. The aim of education must be to promote the full development of the personality talents, mental and physical capabilities of each individual child.

Cultural education plays an extreme vital role in the comprehensive development of the children personalities.

Learning is a creative process, what we learn depends for the most part, how we learn or the place of learning and learning atmosphere, the time, the rhythm and clearness presentation.

Learning by means of art- based methods opens up specific area of experience studies. An easily recognizable fact that has been examined and described in the ability to relate thinking and action in creative as well as organizational processes and to use knowledge in accordance with specific requirements.

· The capacity to make decisions independently

· The ability to implement ideas innovatively and

· The capacity to create new interconnections.

Creativity and the ability to innovate are decisive for sustainable economic and social development.

Knowledge and creativity are the new economic factors. It is not raw materials and machines, capital and lands that analyst say that will be the driving force. The deciding factor in the success of countries and regions will be the competition for creative and innovative minds.

In this respect, adequate attention must be focused on the multifaceted potential of young people, and conditions must be provided that allows this potential to be fully developed.

Shift has been reflected in the education system to merely with tight structure “Creative training” sessions.

Cultural competence develops and expands during the course of long-term learning processes. If these are allowed to proceed at individual speeds. It evolves to best advantage in a lifelong and life accompanying education process..It is in this respect that obstacles and questions arises:- in a globalize society characterized by competition and pressure to perform where do we find space for imagination, individuality and creativity, unoccupied zones for open, curious encounters, for constructively dealing with contradictions for solidarity?.

If we think about cultural competence and try to determine what it really is we also have to reflect on what precisely is meant by culture. There are similar to one another and others contradictory, and they can all influence the approach taken with respect to necessary cultural policy measures.

Raymond Williams defines culture “as a whole way of life”.

INTERCULTURAL EDUCATION AS PART OF CULTURAL EDUCATION

The ability to enter into intercultural dialogue and trans-cultural understanding will decide our future, when we speak of culture and education today, we have to take into global migrations worldwide communication networks international business groups and the problem of poverty which concerns all societies, Cultural teaching and learning.

Cultural education thus implies opening up our society by means of art and culture. Open forms of learning and shared creative processes create space for encounters and for dealing constructively with differences. This space has physical, intellectual, emotional and social dimensions.

Cultural education cannot simply be prescribed. It requires a new culture of teaching and learning which

· Is open and co-operative both internally and externally

· Focuses on the needs of the pupils.

· Is open to innovative, interdisciplinary work and is project oriented

DR Claudia Austrian Minister of education describes cultural education as a central motive of the current development of the school system.

It is a common concern and a dynamic process involving parents, pupils, teachers, school administrations, artists, cultural and art educators and the societal environment, as well as the political and administrative, sectors.

Quality in cultural education is achieved by means of exchanges and partnerships, a major factor in achieving such quality is thus the ability to cooperate. It is necessary to imitate and extend networks and partnerships between culture and working life that also include civil society and other stakeholders. Such partnerships require supervision and the proper conditions for a supporting framework. And they succeed best in cases where such activities become a part of the overall strategic orientation of an institution.

Essential preconditions for good cooperation are

Ø Shared spaces for these types of learning

Ø Common vision

Ø Clear strategies

Ø Mutual trust and shared responsibility

Ø Good cooperation

Ø Excellent communication between partners

Ø The boundaries between schools and communities must be permeable

Ø Excessive formalization in planning and implementation of activities must be avoided.

Ø A more open discourse on quality must be achieved, and

Ø Commitment needs to be appropriate valued.

Culture education is an extension of learning processes that take the inner differentiations and complexities of culture into account.

It let us experience the learning process with the senses and allows us to internally comprehend how people under different conditions, have understood the world, interpret it, acted in it and change it in different ways and how they continue to do so. Our openness to learning processes of this kind is continually being challenged. It is when resources become scanty and insecurity grows, when a lack of opportunities allows no vision of future that borders are closed up tight and there is a tendency to what is one’s own and what is alien.

Idealizations and demonization are frequent side effects of this process. Deviations from what is familiar engender rejection and aggression. Discussions about identity and culture then often serve the purpose of justifying separation and exclusion.

Culture education programmes cannot work miracles, but they can introduce perspectives, make restrictive views and actions perceptible, and challenge people to make a move-however small. In this sense they open up spaces for negotiation. Promote active debate and thus help to develop a conflict management culture.

CONCLUSION

Every society is permeated with cultural differences. They arise between generations as well as between different communities and sexes, between social groupings and between varieties.

2013-05-16T08:10:00.000-07:00

NIGERIA DEBT REACHES 5.5 TRILLION

Ngama dropped the hint while briefing journalists after the weekly Federal Executive Council meeting held Wednesday. He explained that the Council approved a medium term debt management strategy which is expected to free more cash for domestic lending for the private sector in the country.

He said part of the new policy is to reduce the domestic borrowing as well as access concessionary windows and raise foreign loans which will be used to actually pay the more expensive domestic debts.

The minister said the policy was put together by the Debt Management Office, Central Bank, Ministry of National Planning, the World Bank, and the National Bureau of Statistics.

The new government strategy is expected to follow the restructuring of the high domestic debt profile, which makes it less expensive to service. The strategy will also through a comprehensive plan exit the corridors of high domestic debts.

Ngama explained further that Nigeria’s current foreign debt was insignificant and would not create problems for the country as it is just 12 per cent, with the remaining 88 per cent as domestic debt.

According to him, “We had four options. One option is to continue as we are doing. Option (two) is to say ok, we are not going to do much but let us borrow more of the twenty year bonds where we raise them and use them to pay down the one year, two years and five year debts so that space will be left for the private sector to operate, which means we are reliving ourselves, giving ourselves time in order to retire the bonds that will actually free some resources for us.

“The third option is to see how we can access concessionary windows or raise cheaper foreign loans and use them to actually pay down the more expensive domestic debts.

“Once we tilt the structure, from 84% to 16% , 84 is concessional while the 16% is non concessional, then the domestic and foreign debt will also tilt to that. So we can have maybe 40 percent foreign debt and 60 percent domestic debt.

“If we do that after we play it out, we are going to reduce our total debt burden to .5% by the year 2015 and we think that is better than the level we are today which is just 2.2%,” he said.

The minister explained that contrary to fears being expressed about increased foreign borrowing, it would help the country. He said the foreign borrowings would be gradual.

“When we do that we can bring a lot of benefits to the country and we will manage the finances free and also reduce the cost of borrowing and that mixed option is the one that the federal government approved and we are happy for that approval.

“One thing is that we are not just going to do it overnight. We won’t just start taking loans from abroad or selling bonds we will do it very gradually. We are going to have a smooth transmission so that everything is well managed and that there is no shock to the system,” he said.

The Finance Minister said at N6 trillion, Nigeria’s debt was not too high, but for the cost of servicing the debts.

“Nigeria has one of the highest interest rates in the developing world and if you have high level of debt, then the debt servicing will become very expensive.”

He also announced that the government was working to reduce the cost of domestic debt servicing to bring it to as low as 0. 5 % of the Gross Domestic Product, GDP from the current level of 2.5% of the GDP.

He listed the major factor that increased domestic debt as wage increase to civil servants in 2010 which increased wages by as high as 54 % forcing government to borrow N3.6 trillion to pay salary; adding that since then, federal government budget had incurred deficit of N1 trillion annually.

He gave other reasons for the high domestic debt to include non-payment of local contractors who have executed contract not captured in the budget, and the payment of the pension and gratuity to former staff of NITEL.

Ngama further disclosed that in 2012 alone, the federal government had spent the sum of N699 billion to service debts.

“Government had no choice but to borrow to sustain the level of funding. The new objective is now to reduce growth of such funds and ensure that the rate at which the debt is increasing is decreasing.

“So, we think that the position as it is at the moment is not good for us. We have high interest rate, high debt servicing, last year alone, we paid about N699 billion to service the debt and that compared to the other budgetary provision for our capital expenditure which just over a Trillion, then you realized that we are having a disproportionate cost of debt financing,” he said.

He reasoned that if government is allowed to do all its borrowing from the local economy, it will stifle the access the private sector has on facilities which will in turn affect the rate at which the economy will grow.

Ngama also disclosed that Nigeria’s reserve is now above $53 billion. This, he said, is made up of foreign reserve of $45 billion; excess crude of $7 billion and Sovereign Wealth Fund of $1 billion.

Thanks, for more, visit my other blogs for more stories, news and more!!!

Ann Interview With The Vampire

2012-10-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

Ann Interview With The Vampire

PART I

"I see . . .' said the vampire thoughtfully, and slowly he walked across the room towards the window. For a long time he stood there against the dim light from Divisadero Street and the passing beams of traffic. The boy could see the furnishings of the room more clearly now, the round oak table, the chairs. A wash basin hung on one wall with a mirror. He set his brief case on the table and waited.

"But how much tape do you have with you?" asked the vampire, turning now so the boy could see his profile. "Enough for the story of a life?"

"Sure, if it's a good life. Sometimes I interview as many as three or four people a night if I'm lucky. But it has to be a good story. That's only fair, isn't it?"

"Admirably fair," the vampire answered. "I would like to tell you the story of my life, then. I would like to do that very much."

"Great," said the boy. And quickly he removed the small tape recorder from his brief case, making a check of the cassette and the batteries. "I'm really anxious to hear why you believe this, why you . . ."

"No," said the vampire abruptly. "We can't begin that way. Is your equipment ready?"

"Yes," said the boy.

"Then sit down. I'm going to turn on the overhead light."

"But I thought vampires didn't like light," said the boy. "If you think the dark adds to the atmosphere."

" But then he stopped. The vampire was watching him with his back to the window. The boy could make out nothing of his face now, and something about the still figure there distracted him. He started to say something again but he said nothing. And then he sighed with relief when the vampire moved towards the table and reached for the overhead cord.

At once the room was flooded with a harsh yellow light. And the boy, staring up at the vampire, could not repress a gasp. His fingers danced backwards on the table to grasp the edge. "Dear God!" he whispered, and then he gazed, speechless, at the vampire.

The vampire was utterly white and smooth, as if he were sculpted from bleached bone, and his face was as seemingly inanimate as a statue, except for two brilliant green eyes that looked down at the boy intently like flames in a skull. But then the vampire smiled almost wistfully, and the smooth white substance of his face moved with the infinitely flexible but minimal lines of a cartoon. "Do you see?" he asked softly.

The boy shuddered, lifting his hand as if to shield himself from a powerful light. His eyes moved slowly over the finely tailored black coat he'd only glimpsed in the bar, the long folds of the cape, the black silk tie knotted at the throat, and the gleam of the white collar that was as white as the vampire's flesh. He stared at the vampire's full black hair, the waves that were combed back over the tips of the ears, the curls that barely touched the edge of the white collar.

"Now, do you still want the interview?" the vampire asked.

The boy's mouth was open before the sound came out. He was nodding. Then he said, "Yes."

The vampire sat down slowly opposite him and, leaning forward, said gently, confidentially, "Don't be afraid. Just start the tape."

And then he reached out over the length of the table. The boy recoiled, sweat running down the sides of his face. The vampire clamped a hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "Believe me, I won't hurt you. I want this opportunity. It's more important to me than you can realize now. I want you to begin." And he withdrew his hand and sat collected, waiting.

It took a moment for the boy to wipe his forehead and his lips with a handkerchief, to stammer that the microphone was in the machine, to press the button, to say that the machine was on.

"You weren't always a vampire, were you?" he began.

"No," answered the vampire. "I was a twenty-five year-old man when I became a vampire, and the year was seventeen ninety-one."

The boy was startled by the preciseness of the date and he repeated it before he asked, "How did it come about?"

"There's a simple answer to that. I don't believe I want to give simple answers," said the vampire. "I think I want to tell the real story. . . '

"Yes," the boy said quickly. He was folding his handkerchief over and over and wiping his lips now with it again.

"There was a tragedy . . ." the vampire started. "It was my younger brother . . . . He died." And then he stopped, so that the boy cleared his throat and wiped at his face again before stuffing the handkerchief almost impatiently into his pocket.

"It's not painful, is it?" he asked timidly.

"Does it seem so?" asked the vampire. "No." He shook his head. "It's simply that I've only told this story to one other person. And that was so long ago. No, it's not pa'

"We were living. in Louisiana then. We'd received a land grant and settled two indigo plantations on the Mississippi very near New Orleans . . . ."

"Ah, that's the accent . . ." the boy said softly.

For a moment the vampire stared blankly. "I have an accent?" He began to laugh.

And the boy, flustered, answered quickly. "I noticed it in the bar when I asked you what you did for a living. It's just a slight sharpness to the consonants, that's all. I never guessed it was French."

"It's all right," the vampire assured him. "ran not as shocked as I pretend to be. It's only that I forget it from time to time. But let me go on. . . . '

"Please . . " said the boy.

"I was talking about the plantations. They had a great deal to do with it, really, my becoming a vampire. But I'll come to that. Our life there was both luxurious and primitive. And we ourselves found it extremely attractive. You see, we lived far better there than we could have ever lived in France. Perhaps the sheer wilderness of Louisiana only made it seem so, but seeming so, it was. I remember the imported furniture that cluttered the house." The vampire smiled. "And the harpsichord; that was lovely. My sister used to play it. On summer evenings, she would sit at the keys with her back to the open French windows. And I can still remember that thin, rapid music and the vision of the swamp rising beyond her, the moss-hung cypresses floating against the sky. And there were the sounds of the swamp, a chorus of creatures, the cry of the birds. I think we loved it. It made the rosewood furniture all the more precious, the music more delicate and desirable. Even when the wisteria tore the shutters oft the attic windows and worked its tendrils right into the whitewashed brick in less than a year . . . . Yes, we loved it. All except my brother. I don't think I ever heard him complain of anything, but I knew how he felt. My father was dead then, and I was head of the family and I had to defend him constantly from my mother and sister. They wanted to take him visiting, and to New Orleans for parties, but he hated these things. I think he stopped going altogether before he was twelve: Prayer was what mattered to him, prayer and his leather-bound lives of the saints.

"Finally I built him an oratory removed from the house, and he began to spend most of every day there and often the early evening. It was ironic, really. He was so different from us, so different from everyone, and I was so regular! There was nothing extraordinary about me whatsoever." The vampire smiled.

"Sometimes in the evening I would go out to him and find him in the garden near the oratory, sitting absolutely composed on a stone bench there, and I'd tell him my troubles, the difficulties I had with the slaves, how I distrusted the overseer or the weather or my brokers . . . all the problems that made up the length and breadth of my existence. And he would listen, making only a few comments, always sympathetic, so that when I left him I had the distinct impression he bad solved everything for me. I didn't think I could deny him anything, and I vowed that no matter how it would break my heart to lose him, he could enter the priesthood when the time came. Of course, I was wrong." The vampire stopped.

For a moment the boy only gazed at him and then he started as if awakened from deep thought, and he floundered, as if he could not find the right words. "Ali . he didn't want to be a priest?" the boy asked. The vampire studied him as if trying to discern the meaning of his expression. Then he said:

"I meant that I was wrong about myself, about my not denying him anything." His eyes moved over the far wall and fixed on the panes of the window. "He began to see visions."

"Real visions?" the boy asked, but again there was hesitation, as if he were thinking of something else.

"I didn't think so," the vampire answered. It happened when he was fifteen. He was very handsome then. He had the smoothest skin and the largest blue eyes. He was robust, not thin as I am now and was then . . . but his eyes . . . it was as if when I looked into his eyes I was standing alone on the edge of the world . . . on a windswept ocean beach. There was nothing but the soft roar of the waves. Well," he said, his eyes still fixed on the window panes, "he began to see visions. He only hinted at this at first, and he stopped taking his meals altogether. He lived in the oratory. At any hour of day or night, I could find him on the bare flagstones kneeling before the altar. And the oratory itself was neglected. He stopped tending the candles or changing the altar cloths or even sweeping out the leaves. One night I became really alarmed when I stood in the rose arbor watching him for one solid hour, during which he never moved from his knees and never once lowered his arms, which he held outstretched in the form of a cross. The slaves all thought he was mad." The vampire raised his eyebrows in wonder. "I was convinced that he was only. . . overzealous. That in his love for God, he had perhaps gone too far. Then he told me about the visions. Both St. Dominic and the Blessed Virgin Mary had come to him in the oratory. They had told him he was to sell all our property in Louisiana, everything we owned, and use the money to do God's work in France. My brother was to be a great religious leader, to return the country to its former fervor, to turn the tide against atheism and the Revolution. Of course, he had no money of his own. I was to sell the plantations and our town houses in New Orleans and give the money to him."

Again the vampire stopped. And the boy sat motionless regarding him, astonished. "Ali . . . excuse me," he whispered. "What did you say? Did you sell the plantations?"

"No," said the vampire, his face calm as it had been from the start. "I laughed at him. And he . . . he became incensed. He insisted his command came from the Virgin herself. Who was I to disregard it? Who indeed?" he asked softly, as if he were thinking of this again. "Who indeed? And the more he tried to convince me, the more I laughed. It was nonsense, I told him, the product of an immature and even morbid mind. The oratory was a mistake, I said to him; I would have it torn down at once. He would go to school in New Orleans and get such inane notions out of his head. I don't remember all that I said. But I remember the feeling. Behind all this contemptuous dismissal on my part was a smoldering anger and a disappointment. I was bitterly disappointed. I didn't believe him at all."

"But that's understandable," said the boy quickly when the vampire paused, his expression of astonishment softening. "I mean, would anyone have believed him?"

"Is it so understandable?" The vampire looked at the boy. "I think perhaps it was vicious egotism. Let me explain. I loved my brother, as I told you, and at times I believed him to be a living saint. I encouraged him in his prayer and meditations, as I said, and I was willing to give him up to the priesthood. And if someone had told me of a saint in Arles or Lourdes who saw visions, I would have believed it. I was a Catholic; I believed in saints. I lit tapers before their marble statues in churches; I knew their pictures, their symbols, their names. But I didn't, couldn't believe my brother. Not only did I not believe he saw visions, I couldn't entertain the notion for a moment. Now, why? Because he was my brother. Holy he might be, peculiar most definitely; but Francis of Assisi, no. Not my brother. No brother of mine could be such. That is egotism. Do you see?"

The boy thought about it before he answered and then he nodded and said that yes, he thought that he did.

"Perhaps he saw the visions," said the vampire.

"Then you . . . you don't claim to know . . . now . . . whether he did not?"

"No, but I do know that he never wavered in his conviction for a second. That I know now and knew then the night he left my room crazed and grieved. He never wavered for an instant. And within minutes, he was dead."

"How?" the boy asked.

"He simply w out of the French doors onto the gallery and stood for a moment at the head of the brick stairs. And then he fell. He was dead when I reached the bottom, his neck broken." The vampire shook his head in consternation, but his face was still serene.

"'Did you see him fall?" asked the boy. "Did he lose his footing?"

"No, but two of the servants saw it happen. They said that he had looked up as if he had just seen something in the air. Then his entire body moved forward as if being swept by a wind. One of them said he was about to say something when he fell. I thought that he was about to say something too, but it was at that moment I turned away from the window. My back was turned when I heard the noise." He glanced at the tape recorder. "I could not forgive myself. I felt responsible for his death," he said. "And everyone else seemed to think I was responsible also."

"But how could they? You said they saw him fall"

"It wasn't a direct accusation. They simply knew that something had passed between us that was unpleasant. That we had argued minutes before the fall.

"The servants had heard us, my mother had heard us. My mother would not stop asking me what had happened and why my brother, who was so quiet, had been shouting. Then my sister joined in, and of course I refused to say. I was so bitterly shocked and miserable that I had no patience with anyone, only the vague determination they would not know about his `visions.' They would not know that he had become, finally, not a saint, but only a . . fanatic. My sister went to bed rather than face the funeral, and my mother told everyone in. the parish that something horrible had happened in my room which I would not reveal; and even the police questioned me, on the word of my own mother. Finally the priest came to see me and demanded to know what had gone on. I told no one. It was only a discussion, I said: I was not on the gallery when he fell, I protested, and they all stared at me as if rd killed him. And I felt that I'd killed him. I sat in the parlor beside his coffin for two days thinking, I have killed him. I stared at his face until spots appeared before my eyes and I nearly fainted. The back of his skull had been shattered on the pavement, and his head had the wrong shape on the pillow. I forced myself to stare at it, to study it simply because I could hardly endure the pain and the smell (r)f decay, and I was tempted over and over to try to open his eyes. All these were mad thoughts, mad impulses. The main thought was this: I had laughed at him; I had not believed him; I had not been kind to him. He had fallen because of me."

"This really happened, didn't it?" the boy whispered. "You're telling me something . .that's true."

"Yes," said the vampire, looking at him without surprise. "I want to go on telling you." But as his eyes passed over the boy and returned to the window, he showed only faint interest in the boy, who seemed engaged in some silent inner struggle.

"But you said you didn't know about the visions, that you, a vampire . . . didn't know for certain whether . .

"I want to take things in order," said the vampire, "I want to go on telling you things as they happened.

"No, I don't know about the visions. To this day." And again he waited until the boy said.

"Yes, please, please go on."

"Well, I wanted to sell the plantations. I never wanted to see the house or the oratory again. I leased them finally to an agency which would work them for me and manage things so I need never go there, and I moved my mother and sister to one of the town houses in New Orleans. Of course, I did not escape my brother for a moment. I could think of nothing but his body rotting in the ground. He was buried in the St. Louis cemetery in New Orleans, and I did everything to avoid passing those gates; but still I thought of him constantly. . Drunk or sober, I saw his body rotting in the coin, and I couldn't bear it. Over and over I dreamed that he was at the head of the steps and I was holding his arm, talking kindly to him, urging him back into the bedroom, telling him gently that I did believe him, that he must pray for me to have faith. Meantime, the slaves on Pointe du Lac (that was my plantation) had begun to talk of seeing his ghost on the gallery, and the overseer couldn't keep order. People in society asked my sister offensive questions about the whole incident, and she became an hysteric. She wasn't really an hysteric. She simply thought she ought to react that way, so she did. I drank all the time and was at home as little as possible. I lived like a man who wanted to die but who had no courage to do it himself. I walked black streets and alleys alone; I passed out in cabarets. I backed out of two duels more from apathy than cowardice and truly wished to be murdered. And then I was attacked. It might have been anyone-and my invitation was open to sailors, thieves, maniacs, anyone. But it was a vampire. He caught me lust a few steps from my door one night and left me for dead, or so I thought."

"You mean . . . he sucked your, blood?" the boy asked.

"Yes," the vampire laughed. "He sucked my blood. That is the way it's done."

"But you lived," said the young man. "You said he left you for dead."

"Well, he drained me almost to the point of death, which was for him sufficient. I was put to bed as soon as I was found, confused and really unaware of what had happened to me. I suppose I thought that drink had finally caused a stroke. I expected to die now and had no interest in eating of drinking or talking to the doctor. My mother sent for the priest. I was feverish by then and I told the priest everything, all about my brother's visions and what I had done. I remember I clung to his arm, making him swear over and over he would tell no one. `I know I didn't kill him,' I said to the priest finally. `It's that I cannot live now that he's dead. Not after the way I treated him.'

" 'That's ridiculous,' he answered me. `Of course you can live. There's nothing wrong with you but self-indulgence. Your mother needs you, not to mention your sister. And as for this brother of yours, he was possessed of the devil.' I was so stunned when he said this I couldn't protest. The devil made the visions, he went on to explain. The devil was rampant. The entire country of France was under the influence of the devil, and. the Revolution had been his greatest triumph. Nothing would have saved my brother but exorcism, prayer, and fasting, men to hold him down while the devil raged in his body and tried to throw him about. `The devil threw him down the steps; it's perfectly obvious,' he declared. `You weren't talking to your brother in that room, you were talking to the devil.' Well, this enraged me. I believed before that I had been pushed to my limits, but I had not. He went on talking about the devil, about voodoo amongst the slaves and cases of possession in other parts of the world. And I went wild. I wrecked the room in the process of nearly killing him."

"But your strength . . . the vampire . . .?" asked the boy.

"I was out of my mind," the vampire explained. "I did things I could not have done in perfect health. The scene is confused, pale, fantastical now. But I do remember that I drove him out of the back doors of the house, across the courtyard, and against the brick wall of the kitchen, where I pounded his head until I nearly killed him. When I was subdued finally, and exhausted then almost to the point of death, they bled me. The fools. But I was going to say something else. It was then that I conceived of my own egotism. Perhaps I'd seen it reflected in the priest. His contemptuous attitude towards my brother reflected my own; his immediate and shallow carping about the devil; his refusal to even entertain the idea that sanctity had passed so close."

"But he did believe in possession by the devil."

"That is a much more mundane idea," said the vampire immediately. "People who cease to believe in God or goodness altogether still believe in the devil. I don't know why. No, I do indeed know why. Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult. But you must understand, possession is really another way of saying someone is mad. I felt it was, for the priest. I'm sure he'd seen madness. Perhaps he had stood right over raving madness and pronounced it possession. You don't have to see Satan when he is exorcised. But to stand in the presence of a saint . . . To believe that the saint has seen a vision. No, it's egotism, our refusal to believe it could occur in our midst."

"I never thought of it in that way," said the boy. "But what happened to you? You said they bled you to cure you, and that must have nearly killed you."

The vampire laughed. "Yes. It certainly did. But the vampire came back that night. You see, he wanted Pointe du Lac, my plantation.

"It was very late, after my sister had fallen asleep. I can remember it as if it were yesterday. He came in from the courtyard, opening the French doors without a sound, a tall fair-skinned man with a mass of blond hair and a graceful, almost feline quality to his movements. And gently, he draped a shawl over my sister's eyes and lowered the wick of the lamp. She dozed there beside the basin and the cloth with which she'd bathed my forehead, and she ,never once stirred under that shawl until morning. But by that time I was greatly changed."

"What was this change?" asked the boy.

The vampire sighed. He leaned back against the chair and looked at the walls. "At first I thought he was another doctor, or someone summoned by the family to try to reason with me. But this suspicion was removed at once. He stepped close to my bed and leaned down so that his face was in the lamplight, and I saw that he was no ordinary man at all. His gray eyes burned with an incandescence, and the long white hands which hung by his sides were not those of a human being. I think I knew everything in that instant, and all that he told me was only aftermath. What I mean is, the moment I saw him, saw his extraordinary aura and knew him to be no creature I'd ever known, I was reduced to nothing. That ego which could not accept the presence of an extraordinary human being in its midst was crushed. All my conceptions, even my guilt and wish to die, seemed utterly unimportant. I completely forgot myself!" he said, now silently touching his breast with his fist. "I forgot myself totally. And in the same instant knew totally the meaning of possibility. From then on I experienced only increasing wonder. As he talked to me and told me of what I might become, of what his life had been and stood to be, my past shrank to embers. I saw my life as if I stood apart from it, the vanity, the self-serving, the constant fleeing from one petty annoyance after another, the lip service to God and the Virgin and a host of saints whose names filled my prayer books, none of whom made the slightest difference in a narrow, materialistic, and selfish existence. I saw my real gods . . the gods of most men. Food, drink, and security in conformity. Cinders."

The boy's face was tense with a mixture of confusion and amazement. "And so you decided to become a vampire?" he asked. The vampire was silent for a moment.

"Decided. It doesn't seem the right word. Yet I cannot say it was inevitable from the moment that he stepped into that room. No, indeed, it was not inevitable. Yet I can't say I decided. Let me say that when he'd finished speaking, no other decision was possible for me, and I pursued my course without a backward glance. Except for one."

"Except for one? What?"

"My last sunrise," said the vampire. "That morning, I was not yet a vampire. And I saw my last sunrise.

"I remember it completely; yet I do not think I remember any other sunrise before it. I remember the light came first to the tops of the French windows, a paling behind the lace curtains, and then a gleam growing brighter and brighter in patches among the leaves of the trees. Finally the sun came through the windows themselves and the lace lay in shadows on the stone floor, and all over the form of my sister, who was still sleeping, shadows of lace on the shawl over her shoulders and head. As soon as she was warm, she pushed the shawl away without awakening, and then the sun shone full on her eyes and she tightened her eyelids. Then it was gleaming on the table where she rested her head on her arms, and gleaming, blazing, in the water in the pitcher. And I could feel it on my hands on the counterpane and then on my face. I lay in the bed thinking about all the things the vampire had told me, and then it was that I said good-bye to the sunrise and went out to become a vampire. It was . . . the last sunrise."

The vampire was looking out the window again. And when he stopped, the silence was so sudden the boy seemed to hear it. Then he could hear the noises from the street. The sound of a truck was deafening. The light cord stirred with the vibration. Then the truck was gone.

"Do you miss it?" he asked then in a small voice.

"Not really," said the vampire. "There are so many other things. But where were we? You want to know how it happened, how I became a vampire."

"Yes," said the boy. "How did you change, exactly?"

"I can't tell you exactly," said the vampire. "I can tell you about it, enclose it with words that will make the value of it to me evident to you. But I can't tell you exactly, any more than I could tell you exactly what is the experience of sex if you have never had it."

The young man seemed struck suddenly with still another question, but before he could speak the vampire went on. "As I told you, this vampire Lestat, wanted the plantation. A mundane reason, surely, for granting me a life which will last until the end of the world; but he was not a very discriminating person. He didn't consider the world's small population of vampires as being a select club, I should say. He had human problems, a blind father who did not know his son was a vampire and must not find out. Living in New Orleans had become too difficult for him, considering his needs and the necessity to care for his father, and he wanted Pointe du Lac.

"We went at once to the plantation the next evening, ensconced the blind father in the master bedroom, and I proceeded to make the change. I cannot say that it consisted in any one step really-though one, of course, was the step beyond which I could make no return. But there were several acts involved, and the first was the death of the overseer. Lestat took him in his sleep. I was to watch and to approve; that is, to witness the taking of a human life as proof of my commitment and part of my change. This proved without doubt the most difficult part for me. I've told you I had no fear regarding my own death, only a squeamishness about taking my life myself. But I had a most high regard for the life of others, and a horror of death most recently developed because of my brother. I had to watch the overseer awake with a start, try to throw oft Lestat with both hands, fail, then lie there struggling under Lestat's grasp, and finally go limp, drained of blood. And die. He did not die at once. We stood in his narrow bedroom for the better part of an hour watching him die. Part of my change, as I said. Lestat would never have stayed otherwise. Then it was necessary to get rid of the overseer's body. I was almost sick from this. Weak and feverish already, I had little reserve; and handling the dead body with such a purpose caused me nausea,. Lestat was laughing, telling me callously that I would feel so different once I was a vampire that I would laugh, too. He was wrong about that. I never laugh at death, no matter how often and regularly I am the cause of it.

"But let me take things in order. We had to drive up the river road until we came to open fields and leave the overseer there. We tore his coat, stole his money, and saw to it his- lips were stained with liquor. I knew his wife, who lived in New Orleans, and knew the state of desperation she would suffer when the body was discovered. But more than sorrow for her, I felt pain that she would never know what had happened, that her husband had not been found drunk on the road by robbers. As we beat the body, bruising the face and the shoulders, I became more and more aroused. Of course, you must realize that all this time the vampire Lestat was extraordinary. He was no more human to me than a biblical angel. But under this pressure, my enchantment with him was strained. I had seen my becoming a vampire in two lights: The first light was simply enchantment; Lestat had overwhelmed me on my deathbed. But the other light was my wish for self-destruction. My desire to be thoroughly damned. This was the open door through which Lestat had come on both the first and second occasion. Now I was not destroying myself but someone else. The overseer, his wife, his family. I recoiled and might have fled from Lestat, my sanity thoroughly shattered, had not he sensed with an infallible instinct what was happening. Infallible instinct. . ." The vampire mused. "Let me say the powerful instinct of a vampire to whom even the slightest change in a human's facial expression is as apparent as a gesture. Lestat had preternatural timing. He rushed me into the carriage and whipped the horses home. `I want to die,' I began to murmur. `This is unbearable. I want to die. You have it in your power to kill me. Let me die.' I refused to look at him, to be spellbound by the sheer beauty of his appearance. He spoke my name to me softly, laughing. As I said, he was determined to have the plantation."

"But would he have let you go?" asked the boy. "Under any circumstances?"

"I don't know. Knowing Lestat as I do now, I would say he would have killed me rather than let me go. But this was what I wanted, you see. It didn't matter. No, this was what I thought I wanted. As soon as we reached the house, I jumped down out of the carriage and walked, a zombie, to the brick stairs where my brother had fallen. The house had been unoccupied for months now, the overseer having his own cottage, and the Louisiana heat and damp were already picking apart the steps. Every crevice was sprouting grass and even small wildflowers. I remember feeling the moisture which in the night was cool as I sat down on the lower steps and even rested my head against the brick and felt the little wax-stemmed wildflowers with my hands. I pulled a clump of them out of ,the easy dirt in one hand. `I want to die; kill me. Kill me,' I said to the vampire. `Now I am guilty of murder. I can't live.' He sneered with the impatience of people listening to the obvious lies of others. And then in a flash he fastened on me just as he had on my man. I thrashed against him wildly. I dug my boot into his chest and kicked him as fiercely as I could, his teeth stinging my throat, the fever pounding in my temples. And with a movement of his entire body, much too fast for me to see, he was suddenly standing disdainfully at the foot of the steps. `I thought you wanted to die, Louis,' he said."

The boy made a soft, abrupt sound when the vampire said his name which the vampire acknowledged with the quick statement, "Yes, that is my name," and went on.

"Well, I lay there helpless in the face of my own cowardice and fatuousness again," he said. "Perhaps so directly confronted with it, I might in time have gained the courage to truly take my life, not to whine and beg for others to take it. I saw myself turning on a knife then, languishing in a day-to-day suffering which I found as necessary as penance from the confessional, truly hoping death would find me unawares and render me ft for eternal pardon. And also I saw myself as if in a vision standing at the head of the stairs, just where my brother had stood, and then hurtling my body down on the bricks.

"But there was no time for courage. Or shall I say, there was no time in Lestat's plan for anything but his plan. `Now listen to me, Louis,' he said, and he lay down beside me now on the steps, his movement so graceful and so personal that at once it made me think

of a lover. I recoiled. But he put his right arm around me and pulled me close to his chest. Never had I been this close to him before, and in the dim light I could see the magnificent radiance of his eye and the unnatural mask of his skin. As I tried to move, he ,pressed his right fingers against my lips and said, Be still. I am going to drain you now to the very threshold of death, and I want you to be quiet, so quiet that you can almost hear the flow of blood through your veins, so quiet that you can hear the flow of that same blood through mine. It is your consciousness, your will, which must keep you alive.' I wanted to struggle, but he pressed so hard with his fingers that he held my entire prone body in check; and as soon as I stopped my abortive attempt at rebellion, he sank his teeth into my neck."

The boy's eyes grew huge. He had drawn farther and farther back in his chair as the vampire spoke, and now his face was tense, his eyes narrow, as if he were preparing to weather a blow.

"Have you ever lost a great amount of blood?" asked the vampire. "Do you know the feeling?"

The boy's lips shaped the word no, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat. "No," he said.

"Candles burned in the upstairs parlor, where we had planned the death of the overseer. An oil lantern swayed in the breeze on the gallery. All of this light coalesced and began to shimmer, as though a golden presence hovered above me, suspended in the stairwell, softly entangled with the railings, curling and contracting like smoke. `Listen, keep your eyes wide,' Lestat whispered to me, his lips moving against my neck. I remember that the movement of his lips raised the hair all over my body, sent a shock of sensation through my body that was not unlike the pleasure of passion. . . "

He mused, his right fingers slightly curled beneath his chin, the first finger appearing to lightly stroke it. "The result was that within minutes I was weak to paralysis. Panic-stricken, I discovered I could not even will myself to speak. Lestat still held me, of course, and his arm was like the weight of an iron bar. I felt his teeth withdraw with such a keenness that the two puncture wounds seemed enormous, lined with pain. And now he bent over my helpless head and, taking his right hand off me, bit his own wrist. The blood flowed down upon my shirt and coat, and he watched it with a narrow, gleaming eye. It seemed an eternity that he watched it, and that shimmer of light now hung behind his head like the backdrop of an apparition. I think that I knew what he meant to do even before he did it, and I was waiting in my helplessness as if I'd been waiting for years. He pressed his bleeding wrist to my mouth, said firmly, a little impatiently, `Louis, drink.' And I did. `Steady, Louis,' and `Hurry,' he whispered to me a number of times. I drank, sucking the blood out of the holes, experiencing for the first time since infancy the special pleasure of sucking nourishment, the body focused with the mind upon one vital source. Then something happened." The vampire sat back, a slight frown on his face.

"How pathetic it is to describe these things which can't truly be described," he said, his voice loci almost to a whisper. The boy sat as if frozen.

"I saw nothing but that light then as I drew blood. And then this next thing, this next thing was . . . sound. A dull roar at first and then a pounding like the pounding of a drum, growing louder and louder, as if some enormous creature were coming up on one slowly through a dark and alien forest, pounding as he came, a huge drum. And then there came the pounding of another drum, as if another giant were coming yards behind him, and each giant, intent on his own drum, gave no notice to the rhythm of the other. The sound grew louder and louder until it seemed to fill not just my hearing but all my senses, to be throbbing in my lips and fingers, in the flesh of my temples, in my veins. Above all, in my veins, drum and then the other drum; and then Lestat pulled his wrist free suddenly, and I opened my eyes and checked myself in a moment of reaching for his wrist, grabbing it, forcing it back to my mouth at all costs; I checked myself because I realized that the drum was my heart, and the second drum had been his." The vampire sighed. "Do you understand?"

The boy began to speak, and then he shook his head. "No . . I mean, I do," he said. "I mean, I . . .'

"Of course," said the vampire, looking away.

"Wait, wait!" said the boy in a welter of excitement. "The tape is almost gone. I have to turn it over." The vampire watched patiently as he changed it.

"What happened then?" the boy asked. His face was moist, and he wiped it hurriedly with his handkerchief.

"I saw as a- vampire," said -the vampire, his voice now slightly detached. It seemed almost distracted. Then he drew himself up. "Lestat was standing again at the foot of the stairs, and I saw him as I could not possibly have seen him before. He had seemed white to me before, starkly white, so that in the night he was almost luminous; and now I saw him filled with his own life and own blood: he was radiant, not luminous. And then I saw that not only Lestat had changed, but all things had changed.

"It was as if I had only just been able to see colors and shapes for the first time. I was so enthralled with the buttons on Lestat's black coat that I looked at nothing else for a long time. Then Lestat began to laugh, and I heard his laughter as I had never heard anything before. His heart I still heard like the beating of a drum, and now came this metallic laughter. It was confusing, each sound running into the next sound, like the mingling reverberations of bells, until I learned to separate the sounds, and then they overlapped, each soft but distinct, increasing but discrete, peals of laughter." The vampire smiled with delight. "Peals of bells.

" `Stop looking at my buttons,' Lestat said. `Go out there into the trees. Rid yourself of all the human waste in your body, and don't fall so madly in love with the night that you lose your ways'

"That, of course, was a wise command. When I saw the moon on the flagstones, I became so enamored with it that I must have spent an hour there. I passed my brother's oratory without so much as a thought of him, and standing among the cottonwood and oaks, I heard the night as if it were a chorus of whispering women, all beckoning me to their breasts. As for my body, it was not yet totally converted, and as soon as I became the least accustomed to the sounds and sights, it began to ache. All my human fluids were being forced out of me. I was dying as a human, yet completely alive as a vampire; and with my awakened senses, I had to preside over the death of my body with a certain discomfort and then, finally, fear. I ran back up the steps to the parlor, where Lestat was already at work on the plantation papers, going over the expenses and profits for the last year. `You're a rich man,' he said to me when I came in. `Something's happening to me,' I shouted.

" `You're dying, that's all; don't be a fool. Don't you have any oil lamps? All this money and you can't afford whale oil except for that lantern. Bring me that lantern.'

" `Dying!' I shouted. `Dying!'

" `It happens to everyone,' he persisted, refusing to help me. As I look back on this, I still despise him for it. Not because I was afraid, but because he might have drawn my attention to these changes with reverence. He might have calmed me and told me I might watch my death with the same fascination with which I had watched and felt the night. But he didn't. Lestat was never the vampire I am. Not at all." The vampire did not say this boastfully. He said it as if he would truly have had it otherwise.

"Alors," he sighed. "I was dying fast, which meant that my capacity for fear was diminishing as rapidly. I simply regret I was not more attentive to the process. Lestat was being a perfect idiot. `Oh, for the love of hell!' he began shouting. `Do you realize I've made no provision for you? What a fool I am.' I was tempted to say, `Yes, you are,' but I didn't. `You'll have to bed down with me this morning. I haven't prepared you a coffin.' "

The vampire laughed. "The coffin struck such a chord of terror in me I think it absorbed all the capacity for terror I had left. Then came only my mild alarm at having to share a coffin with Lestat. He was in his father's bedroom meantime, telling the old man

good-bye, that he would return in the morning. But where do you go, why must you live by such a schedule!' the old man demanded, and Lestat became impatient. Before this, he'd been gracious to the old man, almost to the point of sickening one, but now he became a bully. `I take care of you, don't I? I've put a better roof over your head than you ever put over mine! If I want to sleep all day and drink all night, I'll do it, damn you!' The old man started to whine. Only my peculiar state of emotions and most unusual feeling of exhaustion kept me from disapproving. I was watching the scene through the open door, enthralled with the colors of the counterpane and the positive riot of color in the old man's face. His blue veins pulsed beneath his pink and grayish flesh. I found even the yellow of his teeth appealing to me; and I became almost hypnotized by the quivering of his lip. `Such a son, such a son,' he said, never suspecting, of course, the true nature of his son. `All right, then, go. I know you keep a woman somewhere; you go to see her as soon as her husband leaves in the morning. Give me my rosary. What's happened to my rosary?' Lestat said something blasphemous and gave him the rosary. . . ."

"But . ." the boy started.

"Yes?" said the vampire. "I'm afraid I don't allow you to ask enough questions."

"I was going to ask, rosaries have crosses on them, don't they?"

"Oh, the rumor about crosses!" the vampire laughed "You refer to our being afraid of crosses?"

"Unable to look on them, I thought; ' said the boy.

"Nonsense, my friend, sheer nonsense. I can look on anything I like. And I rather like looking on crucifixes in particular."

"And what about the rumor about keyholes? That you can . . . become steam and go through them."

"I wish I could," laughed the vampire. "How positively delightful. I should like to pass through all manner of different keyholes and feel the tickle of their peculiar shapes. No." He shook his head. "That is, how would you say today . . . bullshit?"

The boy laughed despite himself. Then his face grew serious.

"You mustn't be so shy with me," the vampire said. "What is it?"

"The story about stakes through the heart," said the boy, his cheeks coloring slightly.

"The same," said the vampire. "Bull-shit," he said, carefully articulating both syllables, so that the boy smiled. "No magical power whatsoever. Why don't you smoke one of your cigarettes? I see you have them in your shirt pocket."

"Oh, thank you," the boy said, as if it were a marvelous suggestion. But once he had the cigarette to his lips, his hands were trembling so badly that he mangled the first fragile book match.

"Allow me," said the vampire. And, taking the book, he quickly put a lighted match to the boy's cigarette. The boy inhaled, his eyes on the vampire's fingers. Now the vampire withdrew across the table with a soft rustling of garments. "There's an ashtray on the basin," he said, and the boy moved nervously to get it. He stared at the few butts in it for a moment, and then, seeing the small waste basket beneath, he emptied the ashtray and quickly set it on the table. His fingers left damp marks on the cigarette when he put it down. "Is this your room?" he asked.

"No," answered the vampire. "Just a room."

"What happened then?" the boy asked. The vampire appeared to be watching the smoke gather beneath the overhead bulb.

"Ah . . . we went back to New Orleans posthaste," he said. "Lestat had his coffin in a miserable room near the ramparts."

"And you did get into the coffin?"

"I had no choice. I begged Lestat to let me stay in the closet, but he laughed, astonished. `Don't you know what you are?' he asked. `But is it magical? Must it have this shape?' I pleaded. Only to hear him laugh again. I couldn't bear the idea; but as we argued, I realized I had no real fear. It was a strange realization. All my life I'd feared closed places. Born and bred in French houses with lofty ceilings and floor-length windows, I had a dread of being enclosed. I felt uncomfortable even in the confessional in church. It was a normal enough fear. And now I realized as I protested to Lestat, I did not actually feel this anymore. I was simply remembering it. Hanging on to it from habit, from a deficiency of ability to recognize my present and exhilarating freedom. `You're carrying on badly,' Lestat said finally. `And it's almost dawn. I should let you die. You will die, you know. The sun will destroy the blood I've given you, in every tissue, every vein. But you shouldn't be feeling this fear at all. I think you're like a man who loses an arm or a leg and keeps insisting that he can feel pain where the arm or leg used to be.' Well, that was positively the most intelligent and useful thing Lestat ever said in my presence, and it brought me around at once. `Now, I'm getting into the coffin,' he finally said to me in his most disdainful tone, `and you will get in on top of me if you know what's good for you.' And I did. I lay face-down on him, utterly confused by my absence of dread and filled with a distaste for being so close to him, handsome and intriguing though he was. And he shut the lid. Then I asked him if I was .completely dead. My body was tingling and itching all over. `No, you're not then,' he said. `When you are, you'll only hear and see it changing and feel nothing. You should be dead by tonight. Go to sleep."'

"Was he right? Were you . . . dead when you woke up?"

"Yes, changed, I should say. As obviously I am alive. My body was dead. It was some time before it became absolutely cleansed of the fluids and matter it no longer needed, but it was dead. And with the realization of it came another stage in my divorce from human emotions. The first thing which became apparent to me, even while Lestat and I were loading the coffin into a hearse and stealing another coffin from a mortuary, was that I did not like Lestat at all. I was far from being his equal yet, but I was infinitely closer to him than I had been before the death of my body. I can't really make this clear to you for the obvious reason that you are now as I was before my body died.

You cannot understand. But before I died, Lestat was absolutely the most overwhelming experience I'd ever had. Your cigarette has become one long cylindrical ash."

"Oh!" The boy quickly ground the filter into the glass. "You mean that when the gap was closed between you, he lost his . . . spell?" he asked, his eyes quickly fixed on the vampire, his hands now producing a cigarette and match much more easily than before.

"Yes, that's correct," said the vampire with obvious pleasure. "The trip back to Pointe du Lac was thrilling. And the constant chatter of Lestat was positively the most boring and disheartening thing I experienced. Of course as I said, I was far from being his equal. I had my dead limbs to contend with . . . to use his comparison. And I learned that on that very night, when I had to make my first kill."

The vampire reached across the table now and gently brushed an ash from the boy's lapel, and the boy stared at his withdrawing hand in alarm. "Excuse me," said the vampire. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Excuse me," said the boy. "I just got the impression suddenly that your arm was . . . abnormally long. You reach so far without moving!"

"No," said the vampire, resting his hands again on his crossed knees. "I moved forward much too fast for you to see. It was an illusion."

"You moved forward? But you didn't. You were sitting just as you are now, with your back against the chair."

"No," repeated the vampire firmly. "I moved forward as I told you. Here, I'll do it again." And he did it again, and the boy stared with the same mixture of confusion and fear. "You still didn't see it," said the vampire. "But, you see, if you look at my outstretched arm now, it's really not remarkably long at all." And he raised his arm, first finger pointing heavenward as if he were an angel about to give the Word of the Lord. "You have experienced a fundamental difference between the way you see and I see. My gesture appeared slow and somewhat languid to me. And the sound of my finger brushing your coat was quite audible. Well, I didn't mean to frighten you, I confess. But perhaps you can see from this that my return to Pointe du Lac was a feast of new experiences, the mere swaying of a tree branch in the wind a delight."

"Yes," said the boy; but he was still visibly shaken. The vampire eyed him for a moment, and then he said, "I was telling you . . ."

"About your first kill," said the boy.

"Yes. I should say first, however, that the plantation was in a state of pandemonium. The overseer's body had been found and so had the blind old man in the master bedroom, and no one could explain the blind old man's presence. And no one had been able to find me in New Orleans. My sister had contacted the police, and several of them were at Pointe du Lac when I arrived. It was already quite dark, naturally, and Lestat quickly explained to me that I must not let the police see me in even minimal light, especially not with my body in its present remarkable state; so I talked to them in the avenue of oaks before the plantation house, ignoring their requests that we go inside. I explained I'd been to Pointe du Lac the night before and the blind old man was my guest. As for the overseer, he had not been here, but had gone to New Orleans on business.

"After that was settled, during which my new detachment served me admirably, I had the problem of the plantation itself. My slaves were in a state of complete confusion, and no work had been done all day. We had a large plant then for the making of the indigo dye, and the overseer's management had been most important. But I had several extremely intelligent slaves who might have done his job just as well a long time before, if I had recognized their intelligence and not feared their African appearance and manner. I studied them clearly now and gave the management of things over to them. To the best, I gave the overseer's house on a promise. Two of the young women were brought back into the house from the fields to care for Lestat's father, and I told them I wanted as much privacy as possible and they would all of them be rewarded not only for service but for leaving me and Lestat absolutely alone. I did not realize at the time that these slaves would be the first, and possibly the only ones, to ever suspect that Lestat and I were not ordinary creatures. I failed to realize that their experience with the supernatural was far greater than that of white men. In my own inexperience I still thought of them as childlike savages barely domesticated by slavery. I made a bad mistake. But let me keep to my story. I was going to tell you about my first kill. Lestat bungled it with his characteristic lack of common sense."

"Bungled it?" asked the boy.

"I should never have started with human beings. But this was something I had to learn by myself. Lestat had us plunge headlong into the swamps right after the police and the slaves were settled. It was very late, and the slave cabins were completely dark. Rye soon lost sight of the lights of Pointe du Lac altogether, and I became very agitated. It was the same thing again: remembered fears, confusion. Lestat, had he any native intelligence, might have explained things to me patiently and gently-that I had no need to fear the swamps, that ;o snakes and insects I was utterly invulnerable, and that I must concentrate on my new ability to see in total darkness. Instead, he harassed me with condemnations. He was concerned only with our victims, with finishing my initiation and getting on with it.

"And when we finally came upon our victims, he rushed me into action. They were a small camp of runaway slaves. Lestat had visited them before and picked off perhaps a fourth of their number by watching from the dark for one of them to leave the fire, or by taking them in their sleep. They knew absolutely nothing of Lestat's presence. We had to watch for well over an hour before one of the men, they were all men, finally left the clearing and came just a few paces into the trees. He unhooked his pants now and attended to an ordinary physical necessity, and as he turned to go, Lestat shook me and said, `Take him,' " The vampire smiled at the boy's wide eyes. "I think I was about as horrorstruck as you would be," he said. "But I didn't know then that I might kill animals instead of humans. I said quickly I could not possibly take him. And the slave heard me speak. He tamed, his back to the distant fire, and peered into the dark. Then quickly and silently, he drew a long knife out of his belt. He was naked except for the pants and the belt, a tall, strong-armed, sleek young man. He said something in the French patois, and then he stepped forward. I realized that, though I saw him clearly in the dark, he could not see us. Lestat stepped in back of him with a swiftness that baffled me and got a hold around his neck while he pinned his left arm. The slave cried out and tried to throw Lestat off. He sank his teeth now, and the slave froze as if from snakebite. He sank to his knees, and Lestat fed fast as the other slaves came running. `You sicken me,' he said when he got back to me. It was as if we were black insects utterly camouflaged in the night, watching the slaves move, oblivious to us, discover the wounded man, drag him back, fan out in the foliage searching for the attacker. `Come on, we have to get another one before they all return to camp,' he said. And quickly we set off after one man who was separated from the others. I was still terribly agitated, convinced I couldn't bring myself to attack and feeling no urge to do so. There were many things, as I mention, which Lestat might have said and done. He might have made the experience rich in so many ways. But he did not."

"What could he have done?" the boy asked. "What do you mean?"

"Killing is no ordinary act," said the vampire. "One doesn't simply glut oneself on blood." He shook his head. "It is the experience of another's life for certain, and often the experience of the loss of that life through the blood, slowly. It is again and again the experience of that loss of my own life, which I experienced when I sucked the blood from Lestat's wrist and felt his heart pound with my heart. It is again and again a celebration of that experience; because for vampires that is the ultimate experience." He said this most seriously, as if he were arguing with someone who held a different view. "I don't think Lestat ever appreciated that, though how he could not, I don't know. Let me say he appreciated something, but very little, I think, of what there is to know. In any event, he took no pains to remind me now of what I'd felt when I clamped onto his wrist for life itself and wouldn't let it go; or to pick and choose a place for me where I might experience my first kill with some measure of quiet and dignity. He rushed headlong through the encounter as if it were something to put behind us as quickly as possible, like so many yards of the road. Once he had caught the slave, he gagged him and held him, baring his neck. `Do it,' he said. `You can't turn back now.' Overcome with revulsion and weak with frustration, I obeyed. I knelt beside the bent, struggling man and, clamping both my hands on his shoulders, I went into his neck. My teeth had only just begun to change, and I had to tear his flesh, not puncture it; but once the wound was made, the blood flowed. And once that happened, once I was locked to it, drinking . . . all else vanished.

"Lestat and the swamp and the noise of the distant camp meant nothing. Lestat might have been an insect, buzzing, lighting, then vanishing m significance. The sucking mesmerized me; the warm struggling of the man was. soothing to the tension of my hands; and there came the beating of the drum again, which was the drumbeat of his heart-only this time it beat in perfect rhythm with the drumbeat of my own heart, the two resounding in every fiber of my being, until the beat began to grow slower and slower, so that each was a soft rumble that threatened to go on without end. I was drowsing, falling into weightlessness; and then Lestat pulled me back. `He's dead, you idiot!' he said with his characteristic charm and tact. `You don't drink after they're dead! Understand that!' I was in a frenzy for a moment, not myself, insisting to him that the man's heart still beat, and I was in an agony to clamp onto him again. I ran my hands over his chest, then grabbed at his wrists. I would have cut into his wrist if Lestat hadn't pulled me to my feet and slapped my face. This slap was astonishing. It was not painful in the ordinary way. It was a sensational shock of another sort, a rapping of the senses, so that I spun in confusion and found myself helpless and staring, my back against a cypress, the night pulsing with insects in my ears. `You'll die if you do that,' Lestat was saying. `He'll suck you right down into death with him if you cling to him in death. And now you've drunk too much, besides; you'll be ill.' His voice grated on me. I had the urge to throw myself on him suddenly, but I was feeling just what he'd said. There was a grinding pain in my stomach, as if some whirlpool there were sucking my insides into itself. It was the blood passing too rapidly into my own blood, but I didn't know it. Lestat moved through the night now like a cat and I followed him, my head throbbing, this pain in my stomach no better when we reached the house of Pointe du Lac.

"As we sat at the table in the parlor, Lestat dealing a game of solitaire on the polished wood, I sat there staring at him with contempt. He was mumbling nonsense. I would get used to killing, he said; it would be nothing. I must not allow myself to be shaken. I was reacting too much as if the `mortal coil' had not been shaken off. I would become accustomed to things all too quickly. 'Do you think so?' I asked him finally. I really had no interest in his answer. I understood now the difference between us. For me the experience of killing had been cataclysmic. So had that of sucking Lestat's wrist. These experiences so overwhelmed and so changed my view of everything around me, from the picture of my brother on the parlor wall to the sight of a single star in the topmost pane of the French window, that I could not imagine another vampire taking them for granted. I was altered, permanently; I knew it. And what I felt, most profoundly, for everything, even the sound of the playing cards being laid down one by one upon the shining rows of the solitaire, was respect. Lestat felt the opposite. Or he felt nothing. He was the sow's ear out of which nothing fine could be made. As boring as a mortal, as trivial and unhappy as a mortal, he chattered over the game, belittling my experience, utterly locked against the possibility of any experience of his own. By morning, I realized that I was his complete superior and I had been sadly cheated in having him for a teacher. He must guide me through the necessary lessons, if there were any more real lessons, and I must tolerate in him a frame of mind which was blasphemous to life itself. I felt cold towards him. I had no contempt in superiority. Only a hunger for new experience, for that which was beautiful and as devastating as my kill. And I saw that if I were to maximize every experience available to me, I must exert my own powers over my learning. Lestat was of no use.

"It was well past midnight when I finally rose out of the chair and went out on the gallery. The moon was large over the cypresses, and the candlelight poured from the open doors. The thick plastered pillars and walls of the house had been freshly whitewashed, the floorboards freshly swept, and a summer rain had left the night clean and sparkling with drops of water. I leaned against the end pillar of the gallery, my head touching the soft tendrils of a jasmine which grew there in constant battle with a wisteria, and I thought of what lay before me throughout the world and throughout time, and resolved to go about it delicately and reverently, learning that from each thing which would take me best to another. What this meant, I wasn't sure myself. Do you understand me when I say I did not wish to rush headlong into experience, that what I'd felt as a vampire was far too powerful to be wasted?"

"Yes," said the boy eagerly. "It sounds as if it was like being in love."

The vampire's eyes gleamed. "That's correct. It is like love," he smiled. "And I tell you my frame of mind that night so you can know there are profound differences between vampires, and how I came to take a different approach from Lestat. You must understand I did not snub him because he did not appreciate his experience. I simply could not understand how such feelings could be wasted. But then Lestat did something which was to show me a way to go about my learning.

"He had more than a casual appreciation of the wealth at Pointe du Lac. He'd been much pleased by the beauty of the china used for his father's supper; and he liked the feel of the velvet drapes, and he traced the patterns of the carpets with his toe. And now he took from one of the china closets a crystal glass and said, `I do miss glasses.' Only he said this with an impish delight that caused me to study him with a hard eye. I disliked him intensely! `I want to show you a little trick,' he said. `That is, if you like glasses.' And after setting it on the card table he came out on the gallery where I stood and changed his manner again into that of a stalking animal, eyes piercing the dark beyond the lights of the house, peering down under the arching branches of the oaks. In an instant, he had vaulted the railing and dropped softly on the dirt below, and then lunged into the blackness to catch something in both his hands. When he stood before me with it, I gasped to see it was a rat. `Don't be such a damned idiot,' he said. `Haven't you ever seen a rat?' It was a huge, struggling field rat with a long tail. He held its neck so it couldn't bite. `Rats can be quite nice,' he said. And he took the rat to the wine glass, slashed its throat, and filled the glass rapidly with blood. The rat then went hurtling over the gallery railing, and Lestat held the wine glass to the candle triumphantly. `You may well have to live off rats from time to time, so wipe that expression off your face,' he said. `Rats, chickens, cattle. Traveling by ship, you damn well better live off rats, if you don't wish to cause such a panic on board that they search your coffin. You damn well better keep the ship clean of rats.' And then he sipped the blood as delicately as if it were burgundy. He made a slight face. `It gets cold so fast.'

" `Do you mean, then, we can live from animals?' I asked.

" `Yes.' He drank it all down and then casually threw the glass at the fireplace. I stared at the fragments. `You don't mind, do you?' He gestured to the broken glass with a sarcastic smile. `I surely hope you don't, because there's nothing much you can do about it if you do mind.'

" `I can throw you and your father out of Pointe du Lac, if I mind,' I said. I believe this was my first show of temper.

" 'Why would you do that?' he asked with mock alarm. `You don't know everything yet . . . do you?' He was laughing then and walking slowly about the room. He ran his fingers over the satin finish of the spinet. `Do you play?' he asked.

"I said something like, `Don't touch it!' and he laughed at me. `I'll touch it if I like!' he said. `You don't know, for example, all the ways you can die. And dying now would be such a calamity, wouldn't it?'

" `There must be someone else in the world to teach me these things,' I said. `Certainly you're not the only vampire! And your father, he's perhaps seventy. You couldn't have been a vampire long, so someone must have instructed you. . .

" `And do you think you can find other vampires by yourself? They might see you coming, my friend, but you won't see them. No, I don't think you have much choice about things at this point, friend. I'm your teacher and you need me, and there isn't much you can do about it either way. And we both have people to provide for. My father needs a doctor, and then there is the matter of your mother and sister. Don't get any mortal notions about telling them you are a vampire. Just provide for them and for my father, which means that tomorrow night you had better kill fast and then attend to the business of your plantation. Now to bed. We both sleep in the same room; it makes for far less risk.'

" 'No, you secure the bedroom for yourself,' I said. `I've no intention of staying in the same room with you.'

"He became furious. `Don't do anything stupid, Louis. I warn you. There's nothing you can do to defend yourself once the sun rises, nothing. Separate rooms mean separate security. Double precautions and double chance of notice.' He then said a score of things to frighten me into complying, but he might as well have been talking to the walls. I watched him intently, but I didn't listen to him. He appeared frail and stupid to me, a man made of dried twigs with a thin, carping voice. `I sleep alone,' I said, and gently put my hand around the candle flames one by one. `It's almost morning!' he insisted.

" `So lock yourself in,' I said, embracing my coffin, hoisting it and carrying it down the brick stairs. I could hear the locks snapping on the French doors above, the swoosh of the drapes. The sky was pale but still sprinkled with stars, and another light rain blew now on the breeze from the river, speckling the flagstones. I opened the door of my brother's oratory, shoving back the roses and thorns which had almost sealed it, and set the coffin on the stone floor before the priedieu. I could almost. make out the images of the saints on the walls. `Paul,' I said softly, addressing my brother, `for the first time in my life I feel nothing for you, nothing for your death; arid for the first time I feel everything for you, feel the sorrow of your loss as if I never before knew feeling.' You see . . . "

The vampire tuned to the boy. "For the first time now I was fully and completely a vampire. I shut the wood blinds flat upon the small barred windows and bolted the door. Then I climbed into the satin-lined coffin, barely able to see the gleam of cloth in the darkness, and locked myself in. That is how I became a vampire."

And There You Were," said the boy after a pause, "with another vampire you hated."

"But I had to stay with him," answered the vampire. "As I've told you, he had me at a great disadvantage.

He hinted there was much I didn't know and must know and that he alone could tell me. But in fact, the main part of what he did teach me was practical and not so difficult to figure out for oneself. How we might travel, for instance, by ship, having our coffins transported for us as though they contained the remains of loved ones being sent here or there for burial; how no one would dare to epee such a coffin, and we might rise from it at night to clean the ship of rats-things of this nature, And then there were the shops and businessmen he knew who admitted us well after hours to outfit us in the finest Paris fashions, and those agents willing to transact financial matters in restaurants and cabarets. And in all of these mundane matters, Lestat was an adequate teacher. What manner of man he'd been in life, I couldn't tell and didn't care; but he was for all appearances of the same class now as myself, which meant little to me, except that it made our lives run a little more smoothly than they might have otherwise. He had impeccable taste, though my library to him was a `pile of dust,' and he seemed more than once to be infuriated by the sight of my reading a book or writing some observations in a journal. `That mortal nonsense,' he would say to me, while at the same time spending so much of my money to splendidly furnish Pointe du Lac, that even I, who cared nothing for the money, was forced to wince. And in entertaining visitors at Pointe du Lac-those hapless travelers who came up the river road by horseback or carriage begging accommodations for the night, sporting letters of introduction from other planters or officials in New Orleans.-to these he was so gentle and polite that it made things far easier for me, who found myself hopelessly locked to him and jarred over and over by his viciousness."

"But he didn't harm these men?" asked the boy.

"Oh yes' often, he did. But I'll tell you a little secret if I may, which applies not only to vampires, but to generals, soldiers, and kings. Most of us would much rather see somebody die than be the object of rudeness under our roofs. Strange . . . yes. But very true, I assure you. That Lestat hunted for mortals every night, I knew. But had he been savage and ugly to my family, my guests, and my slaves, I couldn't have endured it. He was not. He seemed particularly to delight in the visitors. But he said we must spare no expense where our families were concerned. And he seemed to me to push luxury upon his father to an almost ludicrous point. The old blind man must be told constantly how fine and expensive were his bed jackets and robes and what imported draperies had just been fixed to his bed and what French and Spanish wines we had in the cellar and how much the plantation yielded even in bad years when the coast talked of abandoning the indigo production altogether and going into sugar. But then at other times he would bully the old man, as I mentioned. He would erupt into such rage that the old man whimpered like a child. `Don't I take care of you in baronial splendor!' Lestat would shout at him. `Don't I provide for your every want! Stop whining to me about going to church or old friends! Such nonsense. Your old friends are dead. Why don't you die and leave me and my bankroll in peace!' The old man would cry softly that these things meant so little to him in old age. He would have been content on his little farm forever. I wanted often to ask him later, `Where wag this farm? From where did you come to Louisiana?' to get some clue to that place where Lestat might have known another vampire. But I didn't dare to bring these things up, lest the old man start crying and Lestat become enraged. But these fits were no more frequent than periods of near obsequious kindness when Lestat would bring his father supper on a tray and feed him patiently while talking of the weather and the New Orleans news and the activities of my mother and sister. It was obvious that a great gulf existed between father and son, both in education and refinement, but how it came about, I could not quite guess. And from this whole matter, I achieved a somewhat consistent detachment.

"Existence, as I've said, was possible. There was always the promise behind his mocking smile that he knew great things or terrible things, had commerce with levels of darkness I could not possibly guess at. And all the time, he belittled me and attacked me for my love of the senses, my reluctance to kill, and the near swoon which killing could produce in me. He laughed uproariously when I discovered that I could see myself in a mirror and that crosses had no effect upon me, and would taunt me with sealed lips when I asked about God or the devil. `I'd like to meet the devil some night,' he said once with a malignant smile. `I'd chase him from here to the wilds of the Pacific. I am the devil.' And when I was aghast at this, he went into peals of laughter. But what happened was simply that in my distaste for him I came to ignore and suspect him, and yet to study him with a detached fascination. Sometimes I'd find myself staring at his wrist from which rd drawn my vampire life, and I would fall into such a stillness that my mind seemed to leave my body or rather my body to become my mind; and then he would see me and stare at me with a stubborn ignorance of what I felt and longed to know and, reaching over, shake me roughly out of it. I bore this with an overt detachment unknown to me in mortal life and came to understand this as a part of vampire nature: that I might sit at home at Pointe du Lac and think for hours of my brother's mortal life and see it short and rounded in unfathomable darkness, understanding now the vain and senseless wasting passion with which rd mourned his loss and turned on other mortals like a maddened animal. All that confusion was then like dancers frenzied in a fog; and now, now in this strange vampire nature, I felt a profound sadness. But I did not brood over this. Let me not give you that impression, for brooding would have been to me the most terrible waste; but rather I looked around me at all the mortals that I knew and saw all life as precious, condemning all fruitless guilt and passion that would let it slip through the fingers like sand. It was only now as a vampire that I did come to know my sister, forbidding her the plantation for the city life which she so needed in order to know her own time of life and her own beauty and come to marry, not brood for our lost brother or my going away or become a nursemaid for our mother. And I provided for them all they might need or want, finding even the most trivial request worth my immediate attention. My sister laughed at the transformation in me when we would meet at night and I would take her from our flat out the narrow wooden streets to walk along the tree-lined levee in the moonlight, savoring the orange blossoms and the caressing warmth, talking for hours of her most secret thoughts and dreams, those little fantasies she dared to tell no one and would even whisper to me when we sat in the dim lit parlor entirely alone. And I would see her sweet and palpable before me, a shimmering, precious creature soon to grow old, soon to die, soon to lose these moments that in their tangibility promised to us, wrongly . . . wrongly, an immortality. As if it were our very birthright, which we could not come to grasp the meaning of until this time of middle life when we looked on only as many years ahead as already lay behind us. When every moment, every moment must be first known and then savored.

"It was detachment that made this possible, a sublime loneliness with which Lestat and I moved through the world of mortal men. And all material troubles passed from us. I should tell you the practical nature of it.

"Lestat had always known how to steal from victims chosen for sumptuous dress and other promising signs of extravagance. But the great problems of shelter and secrecy had been for him a terrible struggle. I suspected that beneath his gentleman's veneer he was painfully ignorant of the most simple financial matters. But I was not. And so he could acquire cash at any moment and I could invest it. If he were not picking the pocket of a dead man in an alley, he was at the greatest gambling tables in the richest salons of the city, using his vampire keenness to suck gold and dollars and deeds of property from young planters' sons who found him deceptive in his friendship and alluring in his charm. But this had never given him the life he wanted, and so for that he had ushered me into the preternatural world that he might acquire an investor and manager for whom these skills of mortal life became most valuable in this life after.

"But, let me describe New Orleans, as it was then, and as it was to become, so you can understand how simple our lives were. There was no city in America like New Orleans. It was filled not only with the French and Spanish of all classes who had formed in part its peculiar aristocracy, but later with immigrants of all kinds, the Irish and the German in particular. Then there were not only the black slaves, yet unhomogenized and fantastical in their different tribal garb and manners, but the great growing class of the free people of color, those marvelous people of our mixed blood and that of the islands, who produced a magnificent and unique caste of craftsmen, artists, poets, and renowned feminine beauty. And then there were the Indians, who covered the levee on summer days selling herbs and crafted wares. And drifting through all, through this medley of languages and colors, were the people of the port, the sailors of ships, who came in great waves to spend their money in the cabarets, to buy for the night the beautiful women both dark and light, to dine on the best of Spanish and French cooking and drink the imported wines of the world. Then add to these, within years after my transformation, the Americans, who built the city up river from the old French Quarter with magnificent Grecian houses which gleamed in the moonlight like temples. And, of course, the planters, always the planters, coming to town with their families in shining landaus to buy evening gowns and silver and gems, to crowd the narrow streets on the way to the old French Opera House and the Theatre d'Orleans and the St. Louis Cathedral, from whose open doors came the chants of High Mass over the crowds of the Place d'Armes on Sundays, over the noise and bickering of the French Market, over the silent, ghostly drift of the ships along the raised waters of the Mississippi, which flowed against the levee above the ground of New Orleans itself, so that the ships appeared to float against the sky.

"This was New Orleans, a magical and magnificent place to live. In which a vampire, richly dressed and gracefully walking through the pools of light of one gas lamp after another might attract no more notice in the evening than hundreds of other exotic creatures -if he attracted any at all, if anyone stopped to whisper behind a fan, `That man . . . how pale, how he gleams . . . how he moves. It's not natural!' A city in which a vampire might be gone before the words had even passed the lips, seeking out the alleys in which he could see like a cat, the darkened bars in which sailors slept with their heads on the table, great high-ceilinged hotel rooms where a lone figure might sit, her feet upon an embroidered cushion, her legs covered with a lace counterpane, her head bent under the tarnished light of a single candle, never seeing the great shadow move across the plaster flowers of the ceiling, never seeing the long white finger reached to press the fragile flame.

"Remarkable, if for nothing else, because of this, that all of those men and women who stayed for any reason left behind them some monument, some structure of marble and brick and stone that still stands; so that even when the gas lamps went out and the planes came in and the office buildings crowded the blocks of Canal Street, something irreducible of beauty and romance remained; not in every street perhaps, but in so many that the landscape is for me the landscape of those times always, and walking now in the starlit streets of the Quarter or the Garden District I am in those times again. I suppose that is the nature of the monument. Be it a small house or a mansion of Corinthian columns and wrought-iron lace. The monument does not say that this or that man walked here. No, that what he felt in one time in one spot continues. The moon that rose over New Orleans then still rises. As long as the monuments stand, it still rises. The feeling, at least here . . . and there . . . it remains the same."

The vampire appeared sad. He sighed, as if he doubted what he had just said. "What was it?" he asked suddenly as if he were slightly tired. "Yes, money. Lestat and I had to make money. And I was telling you that he could steal. But it was investment afterwards that mattered. What we accumulated we must use. But I go ahead of myself. I killed animals. But I'll get to that in a moment. Lestat killed humans all the time, sometimes two or three a night, sometimes more. He would drink from one just enough to satisfy a momentary thirst, and then go on to another. The better the human, as he would say in his vulgar way, the more he liked it. A fresh young girl, that was his favorite food the first of the evening; but the triumphant kill for Lestat was a young man. A young man around your age would have appealed to him in particular."

"Me?" the boy whispered. He had leaned forward on his elbows to peer into the vampire's eyes, and now he drew up.

"Yes," the vampire went on, as if he hadn't observed the boy's change of expression. "You see, they represented the greatest loss to Lestat, because they stood on the threshold of the maximum possibility of life. Of course, Lestat didn't understand this himself. I came to understand it. Lestat understood nothing.

"I shall give you a perfect example of what Lestat liked. Up the river from us was the Freniere plantation, a magnificent spread of land which had great hopes of making a fortune in sugar, just shortly after the refining process had been invented. I presume you know sugar was refined in Louisiana. There is something perfect and ironic about it, this land which I loved producing refined sugar. I mean this more unhappily than I think you know. This refined sugar is a poison. It was like the essence of life in New Orleans, so sweet that it can be fatal, so richly enticing that all other values are forgotten . . . . But as I was saying up river from us lived the Frenieres, a great old French family which had produced in this generation five young women and one young man. Now, three of the young women were destined not to marry, but two were young enough still and all depended upon the young man. He was to manage the plantation as I bad done for my mother and sister; he was to negotiate marriages, to put together dowries when the entire fortune of the place rode precariously on the next year's sugar crop; he was to bargain, fight, and keep at a distance the entire material world for the world of Freniere. Lestat decided he wanted him. And when fate alone nearly cheated Lestat, he went wild. He risked his own life to get the Freniere boy, who had become involved in a duel. He had insulted a young Spanish Creole at a ball. The whole thing was nothing, really; but like most young Creoles this one was willing to die for nothing. They were both willing to die for nothing. The Freniere household was in an uproar. You must understand, Lestat knew this perfectly. Both of us had hunted the Freniere plantation, Lestat for slaves and chicken thieves and me for animals."

"You were killing only animals?"

"Yes. But I'll come to that later, as I said. We both knew the plantation, and I had indulged in one of the greatest pleasures of a vampire, that of watching people unbeknownst to them. I knew the Freniere sisters as I knew the magnificent rose trees around my brother's oratory. They were a unique group of women. Each in her own way was as smart as the brother; and one of them, I shall call her Babette, was not only as smart as her brother, but far wiser. Yet none had been educated to care for the plantation; none understood even the simplest facts about its financial state. All were totally dependent upon young Freniere, and all knew it. And so, larded with their love for him, their passionate belief that he hung the moon and that any conjugal love they might ever know would only be a pale reflection of their love for him, larded with this was a desperation as strong as the will to survive. If Freniere died in the duel, the plantation would collapse. Its fragile economy, a life of splendor based on the perennial mortgaging of the next year's crop, was in his hands alone. So you can imagine the panic and misery in the Freniere household the night that the son went to town to fight the appointed duel. And now picture Lestat, gnashing his teeth like a comic-opera devil because he was not going to kill the young Freniere."

"You mean then . . . that you felt for the Freniere women?"

"I felt for them totally," said the vampire. "Their position was agonizing. And I felt for the boy. That night he locked himself in his father's study and made a will. He knew full well that if he fell under the rapier at four A.M. the next morning, his family would fall with him. He deplored his situation and yet could do nothing to help it. To run out on the duel would not only mean social ruin for him, but would probably have been impossible. The other young man would have pursued him until he was forced to fight. When he left the plantation at midnight, he was staring into the face of death itself with the character of a man who, having only one path to follow, has resolved to follow it with perfect courage. He would either kill the Spanish boy or die; it was unpredictable, despite all his skill. His face reflected a depth of feeling and wisdom I'd never seen on the face of any of Lestat's struggling victims. I had my first battle with Lestat then and there. I'd prevented him from killing the boy for months, and now he meant to kill him before the Spanish boy could.

"We were on horseback, racing after the young Freniere towards New Orleans, Lestat bent on overtaking him, I bent on overtaking Lestat. Well, the duel, as I told you, was scheduled for four A.M. On the edge of the swamp just beyond the city's northern gate. And arriving there just shortly before four, we had precious little time to return to Pointe du Lac, which meant our-own lives were in danger: I was incensed at Lestat as never before, and he was determined to get the boy. `Give him his chance!' I was insisting, getting hold of Lestat before he could approach the boy. It was midwinter, bitter-cold and damp in the swamps, one volley of icy rain after another sweeping the clearing where the duel was to be fought. Of course, I did not fear these elements in the sense that you might; they did not numb me, nor threaten me with mortal shivering or illness. But vampires feel cold as acutely as humans, and the blood of the kill is often the rich, sensual alleviation of that cold. But what concerned me that morning was not the pain I felt, but the excellent cover of darkness these elements provided, which made Freniere extremely vulnerable to Lestat's attack. All he need do would be step away from his two friends towards the swamp and Lestat might take him. And so I physically grappled with Lestat. I held him."

"But towards all this you had detachment, distance?"

"Hmmm . . ." the vampire sighed. "Yes. I had it, and with it a supremely resolute anger. To glut himself upon the life of an entire family was to me Lestat's supreme act of utter contempt and disregard for all he should have seen with a vampire's depth. So I held him in the dark, where he spit at me and cursed at me; and young Freniere took his rapier from his friend and second and went out on the slick, wet grass to meet his opponent. There was a brief conversation, then the duel commenced. In moments, it was over. Freniere had mortally wounded the other boy with a swift thrust to the chest. And he knelt in the grass, bleeding, dying, shouting something unintelligible at Freniere. The victor simply stood there. Everyone could see there was no sweetness in the victory. Freniere looked on death as if it were an abomination. His companions advanced with their lanterns, urging him to come away as soon as possible and leave the dying man to his friends. Meantime, the wounded one would allow no one to touch him. And then, as Freniere's group turned to go, the three of them walking heavily towards their horses, the man on the ground drew a pistol. Perhaps I alone could see this in the powerful dark. But, in any event, I shouted to Freniere as I ran towards the gun. And this was all that Lestat needed. While I was lost in my clumsiness, distracting Freniere and going for the gun itself, Lestat, with his years of experience and superior speed, grabbed the young man and spirited him into the cypresses. I doubt his friends even knew what had happened. The pistol had gone off, the wounded man had collapsed, and I was tearing through the nearfrozen marshes shouting for Lestat.

"Then I saw him. Freniere lay sprawled over the knobbed roots of a cypress, his boots deep in the murky water, and Lestat was still bent over him, one hand on the hand of Freniere that still held the foil. I went to pull Lestat off, and that right hand swung at me with such lightning speed I did not see it, did not know it had struck me until I found myself in the water also; and, of course, by the time I recovered, Freniere was dead. I saw him as he lay there, his eyes closed, his lips utterly still as if he were just sleeping. `Damn you!' I began cursing Lestat. And then I started, for the body of Freniere had begun to slip down into the marsh. The water rose over his face and covered him completely. Lestat was jubilant; he reminded me tersely that we had less than an hour to get back to Pointe du Lac, and he swore revenge on me. `If I didn't like the life of a Southern planter, rd finish you tonight. I know a way,' he threatened me. `I ought to drive your horse into the swamps. You'd have to dig yourself a hole and smother!' He rode off.

"Even over all these years, I feel that anger for him like a white-hot liquid filling my veins. I saw then what being a vampire meant to him."

"He was just a killer," the boy said, his voice reflecting some of the vampire's emotion. "No regard for anything."

"No. Being a vampire for him meant revenge. Revenge against life itself. Every time he took a life it was revenge. It was no wonder, then, that he appreciated nothing. The nuances of vampire existence weren't even available to him because he was focused with a maniacal vengeance upon the mortal life he'd left. Consumed with hatred, he looked back. Consumed with envy, nothing pleased him unless he could take it from others; and once having it, he grew cold and dissatisfied, not loving the thing for itself; and so he went after something else. Vengeance, blind and sterile and contemptible.

"But I've spoken to you about the Freniere sisters. It was almost half past five when I reached their plantation. Dawn would come shortly after six, but I was almost home. I slipped onto the upper gallery of their house and saw them all gathered in the parlor; they had never even dressed for bed. The candles burnt low, and they sat already as mourners, waiting for the word. They were all dressed in black, as was their at-home custom, and in the dark the, black shapes of their dresses massed together with their raven hair, so that in the glow of the candles their faces appeared as five soft, shimmering apparitions, each uniquely sad, each uniquely courageous. Babette's face alone appeared resolute. It was as if she had already made up her mind to take the burdens of Freniere if her brother died, and she had that same expression on her face now which had been on her brother's when he mounted to leave for the duel. What lay ahead of her was nearly impossible. What lay ahead was the final death of which Lestat was guilty. So I did something then which caused me great risk. I made myself known to her. I did this by playing the light. As you can see, my face is very white and has a smooth, highly reflective surface, rather like that of polished marble."

"Yes," the boy nodded, and appeared flustered. "It's very . . . beautiful, actually," said the boy. "I wonder if . . . but what happened?"

"You wonder if I was a handsome man when I was alive," said the vampire. The boy nodded. "I was. Nothing structurally is changed in me. Only I never knew that I was handsome. Life whirled about me a wind of petty concerns, as I've said. I gazed at nothing, not even a mirror . . . especially not a mirror . . . with a free eye. But this is what happened. I stepped near to the pane of glass and let the light touch my face. And this I did at a moment when Babette's eyes were turned towards the panes. Then I appropriately vanished.

"Within seconds all the sisters knew a `strange creature' had been seen, a ghostlike creature, and the two slave maids steadfastly refused to investigate. I waited out these moments impatiently for just that which I wanted to happen: Babette finally took a candelabrum from a side table, lit the candles and, scorning everyone's fear, ventured out onto the cold gallery alone to see what was there, her sisters hovering in the door like great, black birds, one of them crying that the brother was dead and she had indeed seen his ghost. Of course, . you must understand that Babette, being as strong as she was, never once attributed what she saw to imagination or to ghosts. I let her come the length of the dark gallery before I spoke to her, and even then I let her see only the vague outline of my body beside one of the columns. 'Tell your sisters to go back,' I whispered to her. `I come to tell you of your brother. Do as I say.' She was still for an instant, and then she turned to me and strained to see me in the dark. `I have only a little time. I would not harm you for the -world,' I said. And she obeyed. Saying it was nothing, she told them to shut the door, and they obeyed as people obey who not only need a leader but are desperate for one. Then I stepped into the light of Babette's candles."

The boy's eyes were wide. He put his hand to his lips. "Did you look to her . . . as you do to me?" he asked.

"You ask that with such innocence," said the vampire. "Yes, I suppose I certainly did. Only, by candlelight I always had a less supernatural appearance. And I made no pretense with her of being an ordinary creature. `I have only minutes,' I told her at once. `But what I have to tell you is of the greatest importance. Your brother fought bravely and won the duel=but wait. . You must know now, he is dead. Death was proverbial with him, the thief in the night about which all his goodness or courage could do nothing. But this is not the principal thing which I came to tell you. It is this. You can rule the plantation and you can save it. All that is required is that you let no one convince you otherwise. You must assume his position despite any outcry, any talk of convention, any talk of propriety or common sense. You must listen to nothing. The same land is here now that was here yesterday, morning when your brother slept above. Nothing is changed. You must take his place.

If you do not, the land is lost and the family is lost. You will be five women on a small pension doomed to live but half or less of what life could give you. Learn what you must know. Stop at nothing until you have the answers. And take my visitation to you to be your courage whenever you waver. You must take the reins of your own life. Your brother is dead.'

"I could see by her face that she had heard every word. She would have questioned me had there been time, but she believed me when I said there was not. Then I used all my skill to leave her so swiftly I appeared to vanish. From the garden I saw her face above in the glow of her candles. I saw her search the dark for me, turning around and around. And then I saw her make the Sign of the Crass and walk back to her sisters within."

The vampire smiled. "There was absolutely no talk on the river coast of any strange apparition to Babette Freniere, but after the first mourning and sad talk of the women left all alone, she became the scandal of the neighborhood because she chose to run the plantation on her own. She managed an immense dowry for her younger sister, and was married herself in another year. And Lestat and I almost never exchanged words."

"Did he go on living at Pointe du Lac?"

"Yes. I could not be certain he'd told me all I needed to know. And great pretense was necessary. My sister was married in my absence, for example, while I had a `malarial chill,' and something similar overcame me the morning of my mother's funeral. Meantime, Lestat and I sat down to dinner each night with the old man and made nice noises with our knives and forks, while he told us to eat everything on our plates and not to drink our wine too fast. With dozens of miserable headaches I would receive my sister in a darkened bedroom, the covers up to my chin, bid her and her husband bear with the dim light on account of the pain in my eyes, as I entrusted to them large amounts of money to invest for us all. Fortunately her husband was an idiot; a harmless one, but an idiot, the product of four generations of marriages between first cousins.

"But though these things went well, we began to have our problems with the slaves. They were the suspicious ones; and, as I've indicated, Lestat killed anyone and everyone he chose. So there was always some talk of mysterious death on the part of the coast. But it was what they saw of us which began the talk, and I heard it one evening when I was playing a shadow about the slave cabins.

"Now, let me explain first the character of these slaves. It was only about seventeen ninety-five, Lestat and I having lived there for four years in relative quiet, I investing the money which he acquired, increasing our lands, purchasing apartments and town houses in New Orleans which I rented, the work of the plantation itself producing little . . . more a cover for us than an investment. I say `our.' This is wrong. I never signed anything over to Lestat, and, as you realize, I was still legally alive. But in seventeen ninety-five these slaves did not have the character which you've seen in films and novels of the South. They were not soft-spoken, brown-skinned people in drab rags who spoke an English dialect. They were Africans. And they were islanders; that is, some of them had come from Santo Domingo. They were very black and totally foreign; they spoke in their African tongues, and they spoke the French patois; and when they sang, they sang African songs which made the fields exotic and strange, always frightening to me in my mortal life. They were superstitious and had their own secrets and traditions. In short, they had not yet been destroyed as Africans completely. Slavery was the curse of their existence; but they had not been robbed yet of that which had been characteristically theirs. They tolerated the baptism and modest garments imposed on there by the French Catholic laws; but in the evenings, they made their cheap fabrics into alluring costumes, made jewelry of animal bones and bits of discarded metal which they polished to look like gold; and the slave cabins of Pointe du Lac were a foreign country, an African coast after dark, in which not even the coldest overseer would want to wander. No fear for the vampire.

"Not until one summer evening when, passing for a shadow, I heard through the open doors of the black foreman's cottage a conversation which convinced me that Lestat and I slept is real danger. The slaves knew now we were not ordinary mortals. In hushed tones, the maids told of how, through a crack in the door, they had seen us dine on empty plates with empty silver, lifting empty glasses to our lips, laughing, our faces bleached and ghostly in the candlelight, the blind man a helpless fool in our power. Through keyholes they had seen Lestat's coffin, and once he had beaten one of them mercilessly for dawdling by the gallery windows of his room. `There is no bed in there,' they confided one to the other with nodding heads. `He sleeps in the coffin, I know it.' They were convinced, on the best of grounds, of what we were. And as for me, they'd seen me evening after evening emerge from the oratory, which was now little more than a shapeless mass of brick and vine, layered with flowering wisteria in the spring, wild roses in summer, moss gleaming on the old unpainted shutters which had never been opened, spiders spinning in the stone arches. Of course, I'd pretended to visit it in memory of Paul, but it was clear by their speech they no longer believed such lies. And now they attributed to us not only the deaths of slaves found in the fields and swamps and also the dead cattle and occasional horses, but all other strange events; even floods and thunder were the weapons of God in a personal battle waged with Louis and Lestat. But worse still, they were not planning to run away. Vice were devils. Our power inescapable. No, we must be destroyed. And at this gathering, where I became an unseen member, were a number of the Freniere slaves.

"This meant word would get to the entire coast. And though I firmly believed the entire coast to be impervious to a wave of hysteria, I did not intend to risk notice of any kind. I hurried back to the plantation house to tell Lestat our game of playing planter was over. He'd have to give up his slave whip and golden napkin ring and move into town.

"He resisted, naturally. His father was gravely ill and might not live. Ire had no intention of running away from stupid slaves. `I'll kill them all,' he said calmly, `in threes and fours. Some will run away and that will be fine.'

" `You're talking madness. The fact is I want you gone from here.'

" `You want me gone! You,' he sneered. He was building a card palace on the dining room table with a pack of very fine French cards. `You whining coward of a vampire who prowls the night killing alley cats and rats and staring for hours at candles as if they were people and standing in the rain like a zombie until your clothes are drenched and you smell like old wardrobe trunks in attics and have the look of a baffled idiot at the zoo.'

" `You've nothing more to tell me, and your insistence on recklessness has endangered us both. I might live in that oratory alone while this house fell to ruin. I don't care about it!' I told him. Because this was quite true. `But you must have all the things you never had of life and make of immortality a junk shop in which both of us become grotesque. Now, go look at your father and tell me how long he has to live, for that's how long you stay, and only if the slaves don't rise up against us!'

"He told me then to go look at his father myself, since I was the one who was always `looking,' and I did. The old man was truly dying. I had been spared my mother's death, more or less, because she had died very suddenly on an afternoon. She'd been found with her sewing basket, seated quietly in the courtyard; she had died as one goes to sleep. But now I was seeing a natural death that was too slow with agony and with consciousness. And I'd always liked the old man; he was kindly and simple and made few demands. By day, he sat in the sun of the gallery dozing and listening to the birds; by night, any chatter on our part kept him company. He could play chess, carefully feeling each piece and remembering the entire state of the board with remarkable accuracy; and though Lestat would never play with him, I did often. Now he lay gasping for breath, his forehead hot and wet, the pillow around him stained with sweat. And as he moaned and prayed for death, Lestat in the other room began to play the spinet. I slammed it shut, barely missing his fingers. `You won't play while he dies!' I said. `The hell I won't!' he answered me. `I'll play the drum if I like!' And taking a great sterling silver platter from a sideboard he slipped a finger through one of its handles and beat it with a spoon.

"I told him to stop it, or I would make him stop it. And then we both ceased our noise because the old man was calling his name. He was saying that he must talk to Lestat now before he died. I told Lestat to go to him. The sound of his crying was terrible. `Why should I? I've cared for him all these years. Isn't that enough?' And he drew from his pocket a nail file, and, seating himself on the foot of the old man's bed, he began to file his long nails.

"Meantime, I should tell you that I was aware of slaves about the house. They were watching and listening. I was truly hoping the old man would die within minutes. Once or twice before I'd dealt with suspicion or doubt on the part of several slaves, but never such a number. I immediately rang for Daniel, the slave to whom I'd given the overseer's house and position. But while I waited for him, I could hear the old man talking to Lestat; Lestat, who sat with his legs crossed, filing and filing, one eyebrow arched, his attention on his perfect nails. `It was the school,' the old man was saying. `Oh, I know you remember . . . what can I say to you . . .' he moaned.

" `You'd better say it,' Lestat said, `because you're about to die.' The old man let out a terrible noise, and I suspect I made some sound of my own. I positively loathed Lestat. I had a mind now to get him out of the room. `Well, you know that, don't you? Even a fool like you knows that,' said Lestat.

`You'll never forgive me, will you? Not now, not even after I'm dead,' said the old man.

" I don't know what you're talking about!" said Lestat.

"My patience was becoming exhausted with him, and the old man was becoming more and more agitated. He was begging Lestat to listen to him with a warm heart. The whole thing was making me shudder. Meantime, Daniel had come, and I knew the moment I saw him that everything at Pointe du Lac was lost. Had I been more attentive I'd have seen signs of it before now. He looked at me with eyes of glass. I was a monster to him. 'Monsieur Lestat's father is very ill. Going,' I said, ignoring his expression. `I want no noise tonight; the slaves must all stay within the cabins. A doctor is on his way.' He stared at me as if I were lying. And then his eyes moved curiously and coldly away from me towards the old man's door. His face underwent such a change that I rose at once and looked in the room. It was Lestat, slouched at the foot of the bed, his back to the bedpost, his nail file working furiously, grimacing in such a way that both his great teeth showed prominently."

The vampire stopped, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He was looking at the boy. And the boy looked shyly at the table. But he had already looked, and fixedly, at the vampire's mouth. He had seen that the lips were of a different texture from the vampire's skin, that they were silken and delicately lined like any person's lips, only deadly white; and he had glimpsed the white teeth. Only, the vampire had such a way of smiling that they were not completely revealed; and the boy had not even thought of such teeth until now. "You can imagine," said the vampire, "what this meant.

"I had to kill him."

"You what?" said the boy.

"I had to kill him. He started to run. He would have alarmed everyone. Perhaps it might have been handled some other way, but I had no time. So I went after him, overpowering him. But then, finding myself in the act of doing what I had not done for four years, I stopped. This was a man. He had his bone-handle knife in his hand to defend himself. And I took it from him easily and slipped it into his heart. He sank to his knees at once, his fingers tightening on the blade, bleeding on it. And the sight of the blood, the aroma of it, maddened me. I believe I moaned aloud. But I did not reach for him, I would not. Then I remember seeing Lestat's figure emerge in the mirror over the sideboard. `Why did you do this!' he demanded. I turned to face him, determined he would not see me in this weakened state. The old man was delirious, he went on, he could not understand what the old man was saying. `The slaves, they know . . . you must go to the cabins and keep watch,' I managed to say to him. `I'll care for the old man.'

" `Kill him,' Lestat said.

" `Are you mad!' I answered. `He's your father!'

" `I know he's my father!' said Lestat. `That's why you have to kill him. I can't kill him! If I could, I would have done it a long time ago, damn him!' He wrung his hands. `We've got to get out of here. And look what you've done killing this one. There's no time to lose. His wife will be wailing up here in minutes . . . or she'll send someone worse!"'

The vampire sighed. "This was all true. Lestat was right. I could hear the slaves gathering around Daniel's cottage, waiting for him. Daniel had been brave enough to come into the haunted house alone. When he didn't return, the slaves would panic, become a mob. I told Lestat to calm them, to use all his power as a white master over them and not to alarm them with horror, and then I went into the bedroom and shut the door. I had then another shock in a night of shocks. Because I'd never seen Lestat's father as he was then.

"He was sitting up now, leaning forward, talking to Lestat, begging Lestat to answer ham, telling him he understood his bitterness better than Lestat did himself. And he Was a living corpse. Nothing animated his sunken body but a fierce will: hence, his eyes for their gleam were all the more sunken in his skull, and his lips in their trembling made his old yellowed mouth more horrible. I sat at the foot of the bed, and, suffering to see him so, I gave him my hand. I cannot tell you how much his appearance had shaken me. For when I bring death, it is swift and consciousless, leaving the victim as if in enchanted sleep. But this was the slow decay, the body refusing to surrender to the vampire of time which had sucked upon it for years on end. `Lestat,' he said. `Just for once, don't be hard with me. Just for once, be for me the boy you were. My son.' He said this over and over, the words, 'My son, my son'; and then he said something I could not hear about innocence and innocence destroyed. But I could see that he was not out of his mind, as Lestat thought, but in some terrible state of lucidity. The burden of the past Was on him with full force; and the present, which was only death, which he fought with all his will, could do nothing to soften that burden. But I knew I might deceive him if I used all my skill, and, bending close to him now, I whispered the word, `Father.' It was not Lestat's voice, it was mine, a soft whisper. But he calmed at once and T thought then he might die. But he held my hand as if he were being pulled under by dark ocean waves and I alone could save him. He talked now of some country teacher, a name garbled, who. found in Lestat a brilliant pupil and begged to take him to a monastery for an education. He cursed himself for bringing Lestat home, for burning his books. `You must forgive me, Lestat,' he cried.

"I pressed his hand tightly, hoping this might do for some answer, but he repeated this again. `You have it all to live for, but you are as cold and brutal as I was then with the work always there and the cold and hunger! Lestat, you must remember. You were the gentlest of them all! God will forgive me if you forgive me.'

"Well, at that moment, the real Esau came through the door. I gestured for quiet, but he wouldn't see that. So I had to get up quickly so the father wouldn't hear his voice from a distance. The slaves had run from him. `But they're out there, they're gathered in the dark. I hear them,' said Lestat. And then he glared at the old man. `Kill him, Louis!' he said to me, his voice touched with the first pleading I'd ever heard in it. Then he bit down in rage. `Do it!'

" `Lean over that pillow and tell him you forgive him all, forgive him for taking you out of school when you were a boy! Tell him that now.'

" `For what!' Lestat grimaced, so that his face looked like a skull. `Taking me out of school!' He threw up his hands and let out a terrible roar of desperation. `Damn him! Kill him!' he said.

" `Nor' I said. `You forgive him. Or you kill him yourself. Go on. Kill your own father.'

"The old man begged to be told what we were saying. He called out, `Son, son,' and Lestat danced like the maddened Rumpelstiltskin. about to put his foot through the moor. I went to the lace curtains. I could see and hear the slaves surrounding the house of Pointe du Lao, forms woven in the shadows, drawing near. `You were Joseph among your brothers,' the old man said. `The best of them, but how was I to know? It was when you were gone I knew, when all those years passed and they could offer me no comfort, no solace. And then you came back to me and took me from the farm, but it wasn't you. It wasn't the same boy.'

"I turned on Lestat now and veritably dragged him towards the bed. Never had I seen him so weak, and at the same time enraged. He shook me off and then knelt down near the pillow, glowering at me. I stood resolute, and whispered, `Forgive!'

"It's all right, Father. You must rest easy. I hold nothing against you," he said, his voice thin and strained over his anger.

"The old man turned on the pillow, murmuring something soft with relief, but Lestat was already gone. He stopped short in the doorway, his hands over his ears. `They're coming!' he whispered; and then, turning just so he could see me, he said, `Take him. For God's sake'

"The old man never even knew what happened. He never awoke from his stupor. I bled him just enough, opening the gash so he would then die without feeding my dark passion. That thought I couldn't bear. I knew now it wouldn't matter if the body was found in this manner, because I had had enough of Pointe du Lac and Lestat and all this identity of Pointe du Lac's prosperous master. I would torch the house, and turn to the wealth I'd held under many names, safe for just such a moment.

"Meantime, Lestat was after the slaves. He would leave such-ruin and death behind him no one could make a story of that night at Pointe du Lac, and I went with him. As before, his ferocity was mysterious, but now I bared my fangs on the humans who fled from me, my steady advance overcoming their clumsy, pathetic speed as the veil of death descended, or the veil of madness. The power and the proof of the vampire was incontestable, so that the slaves scattered in all directions. And it was I who ran back up the steps to put the torch to Pointe du Lac.

"Lestat came bounding after me. `What are you doing!' he shouted. `Are you mad!' But there was no way to putout the flames. `They're gone and you're destroying it, all of it.' He turned round and round in the magnificent parlor, amid his fragile splendor. `Get your coffin out. You have three hours till dawn!' I said. The house was a funeral pyre."

"Could the fire have hurt you?" asked the boy.

"Most definitely!" said the vampire.

"Did you go back to the oratory? Was it safe?"

"No. Not at all. Some fifty-five slaves were scattered around the grounds. Many of them would not have desired the life of a runaway and would most certainly go right to Freniere or south to the Bel Jardin plantation down river. I had no intention of staying there that night. But there was little time to go anywhere else."

"The woman, Babette!" said the boy.

The vampire smiled. "Yes, I went to Babette. She lived now at Freniere with her young husband. I had enough time to load my coffin into the carriage and go to her."

"But what about Lestat?"

The vampire sighed. "Lestat went with me. It was his intention to go on to New Orleans, and he was trying to persuade me to do just that. But when he saw l meant to hide at Freniere, he opted for that also. We might not have ever made it to New Orleans. It was growing light. Not so that mortal eyes would have seen it, but Lestat and I could see it.

"Now, as for Babette, I had visited her once again. As I told you, she had scandalized the coast by remaining alone on the plantation without a man in the house, without even an older woman. Babette's greatest problem was that she might succeed financially only to suffer the isolation of social ostracism. She had such a sensibility that wealth itself mean nothing to her; family, a line . . . this meant something to Babette. Though she was able to hold the plantation together, the scandal was wearing on her. She was giving up inside. I came to her one night in the garden. Not permitting her to look on me, I told her in a most gentle voice that I was the same person she'd seen before. That I knew of her life and her suffering. `Don't expect people to understand it,' I told her. `They are fools. They want you to retire because of your brother's death. They would use your life as if it were merely oil for a proper lamp. You must defy them, but you must defy them with purity and confidence.' She was listening all the while in silence. I told her she was to give a ball for a cause. And the cause to be religious. She might pick a convent in New Orleans, any one, and plan for a philanthropic ball. She would invite her deceased mother's dearest friends to be chaperones and she would do all of this with perfect confidence. Above all, perfect confidence. It was confidence and purity which were all-important.

"Well, Babette thought this to be a stroke of genius. `I don't know what you are, and you will not tell me,' she said. (This was true, I would not.) `But I can only think that you are an angel.' And she begged to see my face. That is, she begged in the manner of such people as Babette, who are not given to truly begging anyone for anything. Not that Babette was proud. She was simply strong and honest, which in most cases makes begging . . . I see you want to ask me a question." The vampire stopped.

"Oh, no," said the boy, who had meant to hide it.

"But you mustn't be afraid to ask me anything. If I held something too close . . . " And when the vampire said this his face darkened for an instant. He frowned, and as his brows drew together a small well appeared in the flesh of his forehead over his left brow, as though someone had pressed it with a finger. It gave him a peculiar look of deep distress. "If I held something too close for you to ask about it, I would not bring it up in the first place," he said.

The boy found himself staring at the vampire's eyes, at the eyelashes which were fine black wires in the tender flesh of the lids.

"Ask me," he said to the boy.

"Babette, the way you speak of her," said the boy. "As if your feeling was special."

"Did I give you the impression I could not feel?" asked the vampire.

"No, not at all. Obviously you felt for the old man. You stayed to comfort him when you were in danger. And what you felt for young Freniere when Lestat wanted to kill him . . . all this you explained. But I was wondering . . . did you have a special feeling for Babette? Was it feeling for Babette all along that caused you to protect Freniere?"

"You mean love," said the vampire. "Why do you hesitate to say it?"

"Because you spoke of detachment," said the boy.

" Do you think that angels are detached?" asked the vampire.

The boy thought for a moment. "Yes," he said.

"But aren't angels capable of love?" asked the vampire. "Don't angels gaze upon the face of God with complete love?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Love or adoration," he said.

"What is the difference?" asked the vampire thoughtfully. "What is the difference?" It was clearly not a riddle for the boy. He was asking himself. "Angels feel love, and pride . . . the pride of The Fall . . . and hatred. The strong overpowering emotions of detached persons in whom emotion and will are one," he said finally. He stared at the table now, as though he were thinking this over, was not entirely satisfied with it. "I had for Babette . . . a strong feeling. It is not the strongest I've ever known for a human being." He looked up at the boy. "But it was very strong. Babette was to me in her own way an ideal human being. "

He shifted in his chair, the cape moving softly about him, and turned his face to the windows. The boy bent forward and checked the tape. Then he took another cassette from his brief case and, begging the vampire's pardon, fitted it into place, "I'm afraid I did ask something too personal. I didn't mean . . . " he said anxiously to the vampire.

"You asked nothing of the sort," said the vampire, looking at him suddenly. "It is a question right to the point. I feel love, and I felt some measure of love for Babette, though not the greatest love I've ever felt. It was foreshadowed in Babette.

"To return to my story, Babette's charity ball was a success and her re-entry in social life assured by it. Her money generously underwrote any doubts in the minds of her suitors' families, and she married. On summer nights, I used to visit her, never letting her see me or know that I was there. I came to see that she was happy, and seeing her happy I felt a happiness as the result.

"And to Babette I came now with Lestat. He would have killed the Frenieres long ago if I hadn't stopped him, and he thought now that was what I meant to do. `And what peace would that bring?' I asked. `You call me the idiot, and you've been the idiot all along. Do you think I don't know why you made me a vampire? You couldn't live by yourself, you couldn't manage even the simplest things. For years now, I've managed everything while you sat about making a pretense of superiority. There's nothing left for you to tell me about life. I have no need of you and no use for you. It's you who need me, and if you touch but one of the Freniere slaves, I'll get rid of you. It will be a battle between us, and I needn't point out to you I have more wit to fare better in my little finger than you in your entire frame. Do as I say.'

"Well, this startled him, though it shouldn't have; and he protested he had much to tell me, of things and types of people I might kill who would cause sudden death and places in the world I must never go and so forth and so on, nonsense that I could hardly endure. But I had no time for him. The overseer's lights were lit at Freniere; he was trying to quell the excitement of the runaway slaves and his own. And the fire of Pointe du Lac could be seen still against the sky. Babette was dressed and attending to business, having sent carriages to Pointe du Lac and slaves to help fight the blaze. The frightened runaways were kept away from the others, and at that point no one regarded their stories as any more than slave foolishness. Babette knew something dreadful had happened and suspected murder, never the supernatural. She was in the study making a note of the fire in the plantation diary when I found her. It was almost morning. I had only a few minutes to convince her she must help. I spoke to her at first, refusing to let her turn around, and calmly she listened. I told her I must have a room for the night, to rest. 'I've never brought you harm. I ask you now for a key, and your promise that no one will try to enter that room until tonight. Then I'll tell you all' I was nearly desperate now. The sky was paling. Lestat was yards off in the orchard with the coffins. `But why have you come to me tonight?' she asked. `And why not to you?' I replied. `Did I not help you at the very moment when you most needed guidance, when you alone stood strong among those who are dependent and weak? Did I not twice offer you good counsel? And haven't I watched over your happiness ever since?' I could see the figure of Lestat at the window. He was in a panic. 'Give me the key to a room. Let no one come near it till nightfall. I swear to you I would never bring you harm.' `And if I don't . . . if I believe you come from the devil!' she -said now, and meant to turn her head. I reached for the candle and put it out. She saw me standing with my back to the graying windows. `If you don't, and if you believe me to be the devil, I shall

die.' I said. `Give me the key. I could kill you now if I chose, do you see?' And now I moved close to her and showed myself to her more completely, so that she gasped and drew back, holding to the arm of her chair. `But I would not. I would die rather than kill you. I will die if you don't give me such a key as I ask.'

"It was accomplished. What she thought, I don't know. But she gave me one of the ground-floor storage rooms where wine was aged, and I am sure she saw Lestat and me bringing the coffins. I not only locked the door but barricaded it.

"Lestat was up the next evening when I awoke."

"Then she kept her word."

"Yes. Only she had gone a step further. She had not only respected our locked door; she had locked it again from without."

"And the stories of the slaves . . . she'd heard them."

"Yes, she had. Lestat was the first to discover we were locked in, however. He became furious. He had planned to get to New Orleans as fast as possible. He was now completely suspicious of me. `I only needed you as long as my father lived,' he said, desperately trying to find some opening somewhere. The place was a dungeon.

" `Now I won't put up with anything from you, I warn you.' He didn't even wish to turn his back on me. I sat there straining to hear voices in the rooms above, wishing that he would shut up, not wishing to confide for a moment my feeling for Babette or my hopes.

"I was also thinking something else. You ask me about feeling and detachment. One of its aspects, detachment with feeling, I should say, is that you can think of two things at the same time. You can think that you are not safe and may die, and you can think of something very abstract and remote. And this was definitely so with me. I was thinking at that moment, wordlessly and rather deeply, how sublime friendship between Lestat and me might have been; how few impediments to it there would have been, and how much to be shared. Perhaps it was the closeness of Babette which caused me to feel it, for how could I truly ever come to know Babette, except, of course, through the one final way; to take her life, to become one with her in an embrace of death when my soul would become one with my heart and nourished with it. But my soul wanted to- know Babette without my need to kill, without robbing her of every breath of life, every drop of blood. But Lestat, how we might have known each other, had he been a man of character, a man of even a little thought. The old man's words came back to me; Lestat a brilliant pupil, a lover of books that had been burned. I knew only the Lestat who sneered at my library, called it a pile of dust, ridiculed relentlessly my reading, my meditations.

"I became aware now that the house over our heads was quieting. Now and then feet moved and the boards creaked and the light in the cracks of the boards gave a faint, uneven illumination. I could see Lestat feeling along the brick walls, his hard enduring vampire face a twisted mask of human frustration. I was confident we must part ways at once, that I must if necessary put an ocean between us. And I realized that I'd tolerated him this long because of self-doubt. I'd fooled myself into believing I stayed for the old man, and for my sister and her husband. But I stayed with Lestat because I was afraid he did know essential secrets as a vampire which I could not discover alone and, more important, because he was the only one of my kind whom I knew. He had never told me how he had become a vampire or where I might find a single other member of our kind. This troubled me greatly then, as much as it had for four years. I hated ° and wanted to leave him; yet could I leave him?

"Meantime, as all this passed through my thoughts, Lestat continued his diatribe: he didn't need me; he wasn't going to put up with anything, especially not any threat from the Frenieres. We had to be ready when that door opened. `Remember!' he said to the finally. `Speed and strength; they cannot match us in that. And fear. Remember always, to strike fear. Don't be sentimental now! You'll cost us everything.'

" `You wish to be on your own after this?' I asked him. I wanted him to say it. I did not have the courage. Or, rather, I did not know my own feelings.

" `I want to get to New Orleans!' he said. `I was simply warning you I don't need you. But to get out of here we need each other. You don't begin to know how to use your powers! You have no innate sense of what you are! Use your persuasive powers with this woman if she comes. But if she comes with others, then be prepared to act like what you are.'

" `Which is what?' I asked him, because it had never seemed such a mystery to me as it did at that time. `What am I?' He was openly disgusted. He threw up his hands.

" `Be prepared . . . he said, now baring his magnificent teeth, `to kill!' He looked suddenly at the boards overhead. `They're going to bed up there, do you hear them?' After a long silent time during which Lestat paced and I sat there musing, plumbing my mind for what I might do or say to Babette or, deeper still, for the answer to a harder question-what did I feel for Babette? After a long time, a light flared beneath the door. Lestat was poised to jump whoever should open it. It was Babette alone and she entered with a lamp, not seeing Lestat, who stood behind her, but looking directly at me.

"I had never seen her as she looked then; her hair was down for bed, a mass of dark waves behind her white dressing gown; and her face was tight with worry and fear. This gave it a feverish radiance and made her large brown eyes all the more huge. As I have told you, I loved her strength and honesty, the greatness of her soul. And I did not feel passion for her as you would feel it. But I found her more alluring than any woman I'd known in mortal life. Even in the severe dressing gown, her arms and breasts were round and soft; and she seemed to me an intriguing soul clothed in rich, mysterious flesh. I who am hard and spare and dedicated to a purpose, felt drawn to her irresistibly; and, knowing it could only culminate in death, I turned away from her at once, wondering if when she gazed into my eyes she found them dead and soulless.

"`You are the one who came to me before,' she said now, as if she hadn't been sure. `And you are the owner of Pointe du Lac. You argil' I knew as she spoke that she must have heard the wildest stories of last night, and there would be no convincing her of any lie. I had used my unnatural appearance twice to reach her, to speak to her; I could not hide it or minimize it now.

" `I mean you no harm.,' I said to her. `I need only a carriage and horses . . . the horses I left last night in the pasture.' She didn't seem to hear my words; she drew closer, determined to catch me in the circle of her light.

"And then I saw Lestat behind her, his shadow merging with her shadow on the brick wall; he was anxious and dangerous. `You will give me the carriage?' I insisted. She was looking at me now, the lamp raised; and just when I meant to look away, I saw her face change. It went still, blank, as if her soul were losing its consciousness. She closed her eyes and shook her head. It occurred to me that I had somehow caused her to go into a trance without any effort on my part. `What are you!' she whispered. `You're from the devil. You were from the devil when you came to met'

" 'The devil!' I answered her. This distressed me more than I thought I could be distressed. If she believed this, then she would think my counsel bad; she would question herself. Her life was rich and good, and I knew she mustn't do this. Like all strong people, she suffered always a measure of loneliness; she was a marginal outsider, a secret infidel of a certain sort. And the balance by which she lived might be upset if she were to question her own goodness. She stared at me with undisguised horror. It was as if in horror she forgot her own vulnerable position. And now Lestat, who was drawn to weakness like a parched man to water, grabbed her wrist, and she screamed and dropped the lamp. The flames leaped in the splattered oil, and Lestat pulled her backwards towards the open door. `You get the carriage!' he said to her. `Get it now, and the horses. You are in mortal danger; don't talk of devils!'

"I stomped on the flames and went for Lestat, shouting at him to leave her. He had her by both wrists, and she was furious. `You'll rouse the house if you don't shut up!' he said to me. `And I'll kill her! Get the carriage . . . lead us. Talk to the stable boy!' he said to her, pushing her into the open air..

"We moved slowly across the dark court, my distress almost unbearable, Lestat ahead of me; and before us both Babette, who moved backwards, her eyes peering at us in the dark. Suddenly she stopped One dim light burned in the house above. `I'll get you nothing!' she said. I reached for Lestat's arm and told him I must handle this. `She'll reveal us to everyone unless you let me talk to her,' I whispered to him.

" `Then get yourself in check,' he said disgustedly. `Be strong. Don't quibble with her.'

" `You go as I talk . . . go to the stables and get the carriage and the horses. But don't kill!' Whether he'd obey me or not I didn't know, but he darted away just as .I stepped up to Babette. Her face was a mixture of fury and resolution. She said, `Get thee behind me, Satan.' And I stood there before her then, speechless, just holding her in my glance as surely as she held me. If she could hear Lestat in the night she gave no indication. Her hatred for me burned me like fire.

" `Why do you say this to me?' I asked. `Was the counsel I gave you. bad? Did I do you harm? I came to help you, to give you strength. I thought only of you, when I had no need to think of you at all.'

"She shook her head. `But why, why do you talk to me like this?' she asked. `I know what you've done at Pointe du Lac; you've lived there like a devil! The slaves are wild with stories! All day men have been on the river road on the way to Pointe du Lac; my husband was there! He saw the house in ruins, the bodies of slaves throughout the orchards, the fields. What are you! Why do you speak to me gently! What do you want of me?' She clung now to the pillars of the porch and was backing slowly to the staircase. Something moved above in the lighted window.

" `I cannot give you such answers now,' I said to her. `Believe me when I tell you I came to you only to do you goad. And would not have brought worry and care to you last night for anything, had I the choice!' "

The vampire stopped.

The boy sat forward, his eyes wide. The vampire was frozen, staring off, lost in his thoughts, his memory. And the boy looked down suddenly, as if this were the respectful thing to do. He glanced again at the vampire and then away, his own face as distressed as the vampire's; and then he started to say something, but he stopped.

The vampire turned towards him and studied him, so that the boy flushed and looked away again anxiously. But then he raised his eyes and looked into the vampire's eyes. He swallowed, but he held the vampire's gaze.

"Is this what you want?" the vampire whispered. "Is this what you wanted to hear?"

He moved the chair back soundlessly and walked to the window. The boy sat as if stunned looking at his broad shoulders and the long mass of the cape. The vampire turned his head slightly. "You don't answer me. I'm not giving you what you want, am I? You wanted an interview. Something to broadcast on the radio."

"That doesn't matter. I'll throw the tapes away if you want!" The boy rose. "I can't say I understand all you're telling me. You'd know I was lying if I said I did. So how can I ask you to go on, except to say what I do understand . . . what I do understand is like nothing I've ever understood before." He took a step towards the vampire. The vampire appeared to be looking down into Divisadero Street. Then he turned his head slowly and looked at the boy and smiled. His face was serene and almost affectionate. And the boy suddenly felt uncomfortable. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned towards the table. Then he looked at the vampire tentatively and said. "Will you . . . please go on?"

The vampire turned with folded arms and leaned against the window. "Why?" he asked.

The boy was at a loss. "Because I want to hear it."

He shrugged. "Because I want to know what happened."

"All right," said the vampire, with the same smile playing on his lips. And he went back to the chair and sat opposite the boy and turned the recorder just a little and said, "Marvelous contraption, really . . . so let me go on.

"You must understand that what I felt for Babette now was a desire for communication, stronger than any other desire I then felt . . . except for the physical desire for . . . blood. It was so strong in me, this desire, that it made me feel the depth of my capacity for loneliness. When I'd spoken to her before, there had been a brief but direct communication which was as simple and as satisfying as taking a person's hand. Clasping it. Letting it go gently. All this in a moment of great need and distress. But now we were at odds. To Babette, I was a monster; and I found it horrible to myself and would have done anything to overcome her feeling. I told her the counsel I'd given her was right, that no instrument of the devil could do right even if he chose.

" `I know!' she answered me. But by this she meant that she could no more trust me than the devil himself. I approached her and she moved back. I raised my hand and she shrank, clutching for the railing. `All right, then,' I said, feeling a terrible exasperation. `Why did you protect me last night! Why have you come to me alone!' What I saw in her face was cunning. She had a reason, but she would by no means reveal it to me. It was impossible for her to speak to me freely, openly, to give me the communication I desired. I felt weary looking at her. The night was already late, and I could see and hear that Lestat had stolen into the wine cellar and taken our caskets, and I had a need to get away; and other needs besides . . . the need to kill and drink. But it wasn't that which made me weary. It was something else, something far worse. It was as if this night were only one of thousands of nights, world without end, night curving into night to make a great arching line of which I couldn't see the end, a night in which I roamed alone under cold, mindless stars. I think I turned away from her and put my hand to my eyes. I felt oppressed and weak suddenly. I think I was making some sound without my will. And then on this vast and desolate landscape of night, where I was standing alone and where Babette was only an illusion, I saw suddenly a possibility that I'd never considered before, a possibility from which I'd fled, rapt as I was with the world, fallen into the senses of the vampire, in love with color and shape and sound and singing and softness and infinite variation. Babette was moving, but I took no note of it. She was taking something from her pocket; her great ring of household keys jingled there. She was moving up the steps. Let her go away, I was thinking. `Creature of the devil!' I whispered. `Get thee behind me, Satan,' I repeated. I turned to look at her now. She was frozen on the steps, with wide suspicious eyes. She'd reached the lantern which hung on the wall, and she held it in her hands just staring at me, holding it tight, like a valuable purse. `You think I come from the devil?' I asked her.

"She quickly moved her left fingers around the hook of the lantern and with her right hand made the sign of the Cross, the Latin words barely audible to me; and her face blanched and her eyebrows rose when there was absolutely no change because of it. `Did you expect me to go up in a puff of smoke?' I asked her. I drew closer now, for I had gained detachment from her by virtue of my thoughts. `And where would I go?' I asked her. `And where would I go, to hell, from whence I came? To the devil, from whom I came?' I stood at the foot of the steps. `Suppose I told you I know nothing of the devil. Suppose I told you that I do not even know if he exists!' It was the devil I'd seen upon the landscape of my thoughts; it was the devil about whom I thought now. I turned away from her. She wasn't hearing me as you are now. She wasn't listening. I looked up at the stars. Lestat was ready, I knew it. It was as if he'd been ready there with the carriage for years; and she had stood upon the step for years. I had the sudden sensation my brother was there and had been there for ages also, and that he was talking to me low in an excited voice, and what he was saying was desperately important but it was going away from me as fast as he said it, like the rustle of rats in .the rafters of an immense house. There was a scraping sound and a burst of light. `I don't know whether I come from the devil or not! I don't know what I am!' I shouted at Babette, my voice deafening in my own sensitive ears. `I am to live to the end of the world, and I do not even know what I am!' But the light flared before me; it was the lantern which she had lit with a match and held now so I couldn't see her face. For a moment I could see nothing but the light, and then the great weight of the lantern struck me full force in the chest and the glass shattered on the bricks anti the flames roared on my legs, in my face. Lestat was shouting from the darkness, `Put it out, put it out, idiot. It will consume you!' And I felt something thrashing me wildly in my blindness. It was Lestat's jacket. I'd fallen helpless back against the pillar, helpless as much from the fire and the blow as from the knowledge that Babette meant to destroy me, as from, the knowledge that I did not know what I was.

"All this happened in a matter of seconds. The fire was out and I knelt in the dark with my hands on the bricks. Lestat at the top of the stairs had Babette again, and I flew up after him, grabbing him about the neck and pulling him backwards. He turned on me, enraged, and kicked me; but I clung to him and pulled him down on top of me to the bottom. Babette was petrified. I saw her dark outline against the sky and the glint of light in her eyes. `Come on then!' Lestat said, scrambling to his feet. Babette was putting her hand to her throat. My injured eyes strained to gather the light to see her. Her throat bled. `Remember!' I said to her. I might have killed you! Or let him kill you! I did not. You called me devil. You are wrong.'"

"Then you'd stopped Lestat just in time," said the boy.

"Yes. Lestat could kill and dank like a bolt of lightning. But I had saved only Babette's physical life. I was not to know that until later."

"In an hour and a half Lestat and I were in New Orleans, the horses nearly dead from exhaustion, the carriage parked on a side street a block from a new Spanish hotel. Lestat had an old man by the arm and was putting fifty dollars into his hand. `Get us a suite,' he directed him, `and order some champagne. Say it is for two gentlemen, and pay in advance. And when you come back I'll have another fifty for you. And I'll be watching for you, I wager.' Isis gleaming eyes held the man in thrall. I knew he'd kill him as soon as he returned with the hotel room keys, and he did. I sat in the carriage watching wearily as the man grew weaker and weaker and finally died, his body collapsing like a sack of rocks in a doorway as Lestat let him go. `Good night, sweet prince,' said Lestat `and here's your fifty dollars.' And he shoved the money into his pocket as if it were a capital joke.

"Now we slipped in the courtyard doors of the hotel and went up to the lavish parlor of our suite. Champagne glistened in a frosted bucket. Two glasses stood on the silver tray. I knew Lestat would fill one glass and sit there staring at the pale yellow color. And I, a man in a trance, lay on the settee staring at him as if nothing he could do mattered. I have to leave him or die, I thought. It would be sweet to die, I thought. Yes, die. I wanted to die before. Now I wish to die. I saw it with such sweet clarity, such dead calm.

" `You're being morbid!' Lestat said suddenly. `It's almost dawn.' He pulled the lace curtains back, and I could see the rooftops under the dark blue sky, and above, the great constellation Orion. `Go kill!' said Lestat, sliding up the glass. He stepped out of the sill, and I heard his feet land softly on the rooftop beside the hotel. He was going for the coffins, or at least one. My thirst rose in me like fever, and I followed him. My desire to die was constant, like a pure thought in the mind, devoid of emotion. Yet I needed to feed. I've indicated to you I would not then kill people. I moved along the rooftop in search of rats."

"But why . . . you've said Lestat shouldn't have made you start with people. Did you mean . . . do you mean for you it was an aesthetic choice, not a moral one?"

"Had you asked me then, I would have told you it was aesthetic, that I wished to understand death in stages. That the death of an animal yielded such pleasure and experience to me that I had only begun to understand it, and wished to save the experience of human death for my mature understanding. But it was moral. Because all aesthetic decisions are moral, really."

"I don't understand," said the boy. "I thought aesthetic decisions could be completely immoral. What about the cliché of the artist who leaves his wife and children so he can paint? Or Nero playing the harp while Rome burned?"

"Both were moral decisions. Both served a higher good, in the mind of the artist. The conflict lies between the

morals of the artist and the morals of society, not between aesthetics and morality: But often this isn't

understood; and here comes the waste, the tragedy. An artist, stealing paints from a store, for example, imagines

himself to have made an inevitable but immoral decision, and then he sees ' self as fallen from grace; what

follows is despair and petty irresponsibility, as if morality were a great glass world which can be utterly shattered

by one act. But this was not my great concern then. I did not know these things then. I believed I killed animals

for aesthetic reasons only, and I hedged against the great moral question of whether or mot by my very nature I

was damned.

"Because, you see, though Lestat had never said anything about devils or hell to me, I believed I was damned when I went over to him, just as Judas must have believed it when he put the noose around his neck. You understand?"

The boy said nothing. He started to speak but didn't.

The color burned for a moment in blotches on his cheeks. " Were you?" he whispered.

The vampire only sat there, smiling, a small smile that played on his lips like the light. The boy was staring at him now as if he were just seeing him for the first time.

"Perhaps . . . " said the vampire drawing himself up and crossing his legs ". . . we should take things one at a time. Perhaps I should go on with my story."

"Yes, please . . ." said the boy.

"I was agitated that night, as I told you. I had hedged against this question as a vampire and now it completely overwhelmed me, and in that state I had no desire to live. Well, this produced in me, as it can in humans, a craving for that which will satisfy at least physical desire. I think I used it as an excuse. I have told you what the kill means to vampires; you can imagine from what I've said the difference between a rat and a man.

"I went down into the street after Lestat and walked for blocks. The streets were muddy then, the actual blocks islands above the gutters, and the entire city so dark compared to the cities of today. The lights were as beacons in a black sea. Even with morning rising slowly, only the dormers and high porches of the houses were emerging from the dark, and to a mortal man the narrow streets I found were like pitch. Am I damned? Am I from the devil? Is my very nature that of a devil? I was asking myself over and over. And if it is, why then do I revolt against it, tremble when Babette hurls a flaming lantern at me, turn away in disgust when Lestat kills? What have I become in becoming a vampire? Where am I to go? And all the while, as the death wish caused me to neglect my thirst, my thirst grew hotter; my veins were veritable threads of pain in my flesh; my temples throbbed; and finally I could stand it no longer. Torn apart by the wish to take no action-to starve, to wither in thought on the one hand; and driven to kill on the other-I stood in an empty, desolate street and heard the sound of a child crying.

"She was within. I drew close to the walls, trying in my habitual detachment only to understand the nature of her cry. She was weary and aching and utterly alone. She had been crying for so long now, that soon she would stop from sheer exhaustion. I slipped my hand up under the heavy wooden shutter and pulled it so the bolt slipped. There she sat in the dark room beside a dead woman, a woman who'd been dead for some days. The room itself was cluttered with trunks and packages as though a number of people had been packing to leave; but the mother lay half clothed, her body already in decay, and no one else was there but the child. It was moments before she saw me, but when she did she began to tell me that I must do something to help her mother. She was only five at- most, and very thin, and her face was stained with dirt and tears. She begged me to help. They had to take a ship, she said, before the plague came; their father was waiting. She began to shake her mother now and to cry in the most pathetic and desperate way; and then she looked at me again and burst into the greatest flow of tears.

"You must understand that by now I was burning with physical need to drink. I could not have made it through another day without feeding. But there were alternatives: rats abounded in the streets, and somewhere very near a dog was howling hopelessly. I might have Pied the room had I chosen and fed and gotten back easily. But the question pounded in me: Am I dammed? If so, why do I feel such pity for her, for her gaunt face? Why do I wish to touch her tiny, soft arms, hold her now on my knee as I am doing, feel her bend her head to my chest as I gently touch the satin hair? Why do I do this? If I am damned I must want to kill her, I must want to make her nothing but food for a cursed existence, because being damned I must hate her.

"And when I thought of this, I saw Babette's face contorted with hatred when she had held the lantern waiting to light it, and I saw Lestat in my mind and hated him, and I felt, yes, damned and this is hell, and in that instant I had bent down and driven hard into her soft, small neck and, hearing her tiny cry, whispered even as I felt the hot blood on my lips, `It's only for a moment and there'll be no more pain.' But she was locked to me, and I was soon incapable of saying anything. For four years I had not savored a human; for four years I hadn't really known; and now I heard her heart in that terrible rhythm, and such a heart not the heart of a man or an animal, but the rapid, tenacious heart of the child, beating harder and harder, refusing to die, beating like a tiny fist beating on a door, crying, `I will not die, I will not die, I cannot die, I cannot die . . . .' I think I rose to my feet still locked to her, the heart pulling my heart faster with no hope of cease, the rich blood rushing too fast for me, the room reeling, and then, despite myself, I was staring over her bent head, her open mouth, down through the gloom at the mother's face; and through the half-mast lids. her eyes gleamed at me as if they were alive! I threw the child down. She lay like a jointless doll. And turning in blind horror of the mother to flee, I saw the window filled with a familiar shape. It was Lestat, who backed away from it now laughing, his body bent as he danced in the mud street. `Louis, Louis,' he taunted me, and pointed a long, bone-thin finger at me, as if to say he'd caught me in the act. And now he bounded over the sill, brushing me aside, and grabbed the mother's stinking body from the bed and made to dance with her."

"Good God!" whispered the boy.

"Yes, I might have said the same," said the vampire. "He stumbled over the child as he pulled the mother along in widening circles, singing as he danced, her matted hair falling in her face, as her head snapped back and a black fluid poured out of her mouth. He threw her down. I was out of the window and running down the street, and he was running after me. `Are you afraid of me, Louis?' he shouted. `Are you afraid? The child's alive, Louis, you left her breathing. Shall I go back and make her a vampire? We could use her, Louis, and think of all the pretty dresses we could buy for her. Louis, wait, Louis! I'll go back for her if you say!' And so he ran after me all the way back to the hotel, all the way across the rooftops, where I hoped to lose him, until I leaped in the window of the parlor and turned in rage and slammed the window shut. He hit it, arms outstretched, like a bird who seeks to By through glass, and shook the frame. I was utterly out of my mind. I went round and round the room looking for some way to kill him. I pictured his body burned to a crisp on the roof below. Reason had altogether left me, so that I was consummate rage, and when he came through the broken glass, we fought as we'd never fought before. It was hell that stopped me, the thought of hell, of us being two souls in hell that grappled in hatred. I lost my confidence, my purpose, my grip. I was down on the floor then, and he was standing over me, his eyes cold, though his chest heaved. `You're a fool, Louis,' he said. His voice was calm. It was so calm it brought me around. `The sun's coming up,' he said, his chest heaving slightly from the struggle, his eyes narrow as he looked at the window. I'd never seen him quite like this. The fight had got the better of him in some way; or something had. `Get in your coffin,' he said to me, without even the slightest anger. `But tomorrow night . . . we talk.'

"Well, I was more than slightly amazed. Lestat talk! I couldn't imagine this. Never had Lestat and I really talked. I think I have described to you with accuracy our sparring matches, our angry go-rounds."

"He was desperate for the money, for your houses," said the boy. "Or was it that he was as afraid to be alone as you were?"

"These questions occurred to me. It even occurred to me that Lestat meant to kill me, some way that I didn't know. You see, I wasn't sure then why I awoke each evening when I did, whether it was automatic when the deathlike sleep left me, and why it happened sometimes earlier than at other times. It was one of the things Lestat would not explain. And he was often up before me. He was my superior in all the mechanics, as I've indicated. And I shut the coin that morning with a kind of despair.

"I should explain now, though, that the shutting of the coffin is always disturbing. It is rather like going under a modern anesthetic on an operating table. Even a casual mistake on the part of an intruder might mean death."

"But how could he have killed you? He couldn't have exposed you to the light; he couldn't have stood it himself."

"This is true, but rising before me he might have nailed my coffin shut. Or set it afire. The principal thing was, I didn't know what he might do, what he might know that I still did not know.

"But there was nothing to be done about it then, and with thoughts of the dead woman and child still in any brain, and the sun rising, I had no energy left to argue with him, and lay down to miserable dreams."

"You do dream!" said the boy.

"Often," said the vampire. "I wish sometimes that I did not. For such dreams, such long and clear dreams I never had as a mortal; and such twisted nightmares I never had either. In my early days, these dreams so absorbed me that often it seemed I fought waking as long as I could and lay sometimes for hours ' g of these dreams until the night was half gone; and dazed by them I often wandered about seeking to understand their meaning. They were in many ways as elusive as the dreams of mortals. I dreamed of my brother, for instance, that he was near me in some state between life and death, calling to me for help. And often I dreamed of Babette; and often-almost always-there was a great wasteland backdrop to my dreams, that wasteland of night rd seen when cursed by Babette as I've told you. It was as if all figures walked and talked on the desolate home of my damned soul. I don't remember what I dreamed that day, perhaps because I remember too well what Lestat and I discussed the following evening. I see you're anxious for that, too.

"Well, as I've said, Lestat amazed me in his new calm, his thoughtfulness. But that evening I didn't wake to find him the same way, not at first. There were women in the parlor. The candles were a few, scattered on the small table and the carved buffet, and Lestat had his arm around one woman and was kissing her: She was very drunk and very beautiful, a great drugged doll of a woman with her careful coif falling slowly down on her bare shoulders and over her partially bared breasts. The other woman sat over a ruined supper table drinking a glass of wine. I could see that the three of them had dined (Lestat pretending to dine . . . you would be surprised how people do not notice that a vampire is only pretending to eat), and the woman at the table was bored. All this put me in a fit of agitation. I did not know what Lestat was up to. If I went into the room, the woman would turn her attentions to me. And what was to happen, I couldn't imagine, except that Lestat meant for us to kill them both. The woman on the settee with him was already teasing about his kisses, his coldness, his lack of desire for her. And the woman at the table watched with black almond eyes that seemed to be filled with satisfaction; when Lestat rose and came to her, putting his hands on her bare white arms, she brightened. Bending now to kiss her, he saw me through the crack in the door. And his eyes just stared at me for a moment, and then he went on talking with the ladies. He bent down and blew out the candles on the table. `It's too dark in here,' said the woman on the couch. `Leave us alone,' said the other woman. Lestat sat down and beckoned her to sit in his lap. And she did, putting her left arm around his neck, her right hand smoothing back his yellow hair. `Your skin's icy,' she said, recoiling slightly. `Not always,' said Lestat; and then he buried his face in the flesh of her neck. I was watching all this with fascination. Lestat was masterfully clever and utterly vicious, but I didn't know how clever he was until he sank his teeth into her now, his thumb pressing down on her throat, his other arm locking her, tight, so that he drank his fill without the other woman even knowing. `Your friend has no head for wine,' he said slipping out of the chair and seating the unconscious woman there, her arms folded under her face on the table. `She's stupid,' said the other woman, who had gone to the window and had been looking out at the lights. New Orleans was then a city of many low buildings, as you probably know. And on such clear nights as this, the lamplit streets were beautiful from the high windows of this new Spanish hotel; and the stars of those days bung low over such dim light as they do at sea. `I can warm that cold skin of yours better than she can.' She turned to Lestat, and I must confess I was feeling some relief that he would now take care of her as well. But he planned nothing so simple. `Do you think so?' he said to her. He took her hand, and she said, `Why, you're warm"'

Part two coming later

INPUT DEVICES

2012-10-03T08:25:00.000-07:00

INPUT DEVICES

Input devices are the means by which data/information is sent into the computer. They translate between the users natural language and the electronic signals needed by the central language and the electronic signals needed by the central processing unit, consisting of the processor and the main memory.

Over the years, there has been developments and improvements in the way data are sent into the computer for processing, beginning from the keyboard in the early days of computer systems unto voice recognition of recent days.

1. Keyboard and Pointing Devices (e.g Mouse, Joystick, e.t.c)

A keyboard and mouse are commonly used input devices in office systems, in conjuction with Visual Display Units (VDUS). Many office workers including managers have a personal computer (PC) or other terminals on their desk top, with keyboard and mouse (of track balls) and the VDU for input and output.

A pointing device is any human interface device that allows a user to input spatial data to a computer. In the case of mice and touch screens, this is usually achieved by detecting movement across a physical surface. Analog devices, such as 3D mice, joysticks, or pointing sticks, function by reporting their angle of deflection. Movements of the pointing device are echoed on the screen by movements of the pointer, creating a simple, intuitive way to navigate a computer's GUI.

Using a mouse is usually quicker than a keyboard and input errors are fewer when the computer system provides a graphical user interface (GUI).

This is a way of processing data and information to users and offering processing choices to users, in the form of an easy-to- understand graphical presentation on screen.

Although it is now usual for computer systems to have a GUI, the term originated because interaction between a computer user and the computer at one time was by text-and- keyboard interactions. GUI, in contrast, uses graphical displays and pull-down menus, which the computer user can control with a mouse for example, computer users have grown accustomed to WIMP computer system design. WIMP stands for either Windows, Icons, Mouse and pointer or Windows, Icons, Mouse and pull- down menus.

However, both keyboard and mouse Input are slow methods of input, since they are dependent on the speed of the human operator. They are inappropriate in put devices for high volume, high –speed automated processing system and, where possible, faster input methods should be preferred.

2. BAR COD READER

A bar code is a pattern of black and white stripes representing a code, often an inventory item code. The code is read by a scanner or light pen, which converts the bar code image into an electronic form acceptable to the computer. Bar codes are used widely at check points in supermarkets and shops (electronic point of sale systems or EPOS systems). They allow the point of sale system to recognize the item being purchased and to add its price to the customer’s total bill. They speed up the check out process and reduce the risk of input error by the checkout clerk.

3. EFTPOS

Another input method associated with EPOS is EFTPOS-electronic funds transfer at point of sale. This system allows a customer to pay for their purchases using a magnetic stripe or chip and pin card by their card being read by a card reader at the supermarket checkout. Funds are then transferred from the customer’s debit or credit card account to the supermarket electronically.

4. Scanner

In computing, an image scanner—often abbreviated to just scanner—is a device that optically scans images, printed text, handwriting, or an object, and converts it to a digital image. Common examples found in offices are variations of the desktop (or flatbed) scanner where the document is placed on a glass window for scanning. Hand-held scanners, where the device is moved by hand, have evolved from text scanning "wands" to 3D scanners used for industrial design, reverse engineering, test and measurement, orthotics, gaming and other applications. Mechanically driven scanners that move the document are typically used for large-format documents, where a flatbed design would be impractical.
More from Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image_scanner)

More of input devices at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Input_device

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TYPES OF INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY

2012-09-29T09:47:00.002-07:00

TYPES OF INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY

Information technology is a conglomerate of equipment that provides information to the management of an organization to assist them perform their function organization to assist them perform their function organizations use information technology (II) to

Process data
Store data and information
Produce output for operational use or for management reports
Communicate information.

IT systems are computer systems, which consists of

1. Hard ware

2. Software and

3. Communication links, including links to the internet

These are the three types of information technology.

1. Hardware.

The term hardware is used to describe the equipment in a computer system, including the computer system, including the computer itself. They are the physical components of the computer system that occupies space, that can be seen and touched.

Hardware includes

Input Devices
Output Devices
Secondary Storage Devices
Central processing unit, comprising of the control unit, Arithmetic and logic unit and the memory unit.
Communication Devices which facilitates the transmission of information from one point to another.

Hard Wares

Peripherals are hardware devices other than processors or networks. The term peripherals commonly refers to input, output, secondary storage and communication devices.

2. Software.

Computer software is the term used to describe collections of program instructions to the computer hardware. They are program instructions that directs the computer hardware to perform some defined tasks.

There are different types of software, namely operating systems, language translators transient utilities, application packages and bespoke systems.

3. Communication Devices:

Are the types of information technology that facilitates the transmission of information from one point to another.

Where an organization has several locations, it may be effective to process data locally rather than at one central installation. By doing this, individual managers will be able to schedule their own processing and will have more control over the contents of their database systems. Any system that requires computers to communicate with each other will need specialized hardware and software such as:

ü Modems, broadband or network connections.

ü Communication programs.

ü Network circuits and software.

ü No cash changes hands

4. Touch screen

A touch screen is another form of point of sale device which might be used in a cafeteria or restaurant. The screen displays a range of items that are available for sale, and the salesperson in puts the customer’s order by touching the appropriate icon in with a finger. The screen recognizes the instruction and converts it into an electronic command for the computer.

5. Optical mark reading (OMR)

Optical mark reading (OMR) involves making marks, usually with a pencil or pen, on a standard document. The document is then read by an optical mark reader, and the positioning of the mark or marks on the document can be interpreted as data for processing by the computer.

6. Optical character recognition (OCR)

With optical character recognition (OCR), a reader can recognize hand writing characters from their shape, and convert them into electronic data format.OCR applications have includes meter reading forms for electricity and gas meters. The person reading the meter records the meter reading in boxes on a standard form, and the form is then input into the processing system through an OCR reader.

7. Magnetic Ink Character Recognition (MICR)

With MICR, a special reader can detect characters on a standard form in magnetic ink characters. The use of MICR is uncommon, although its most well-known use is the automatic reading of characters on bank cheques.

8. Scanners

A scanner is a device that can read only any form of image and convert it into an electronic form for acceptance by a computer system.

Scanners can therefore be used to input diagrams and pictures, signatures and other visual images, as well as images of text.

Scanners are widely used in the publishing industry, for the processing of diagrams and other pictures in books, magazines and newspaper.

9. Plastic Cards (Magnetic Strip And Chip & Pin)

Plastic Swipe cards hold data in electronic form an a magnetic strip on the card.

Plastic cards or other items might hold data in electronic form in an electronic chip. These can be read in by a special reading device (either reading the magnetic strip on the card or the chip in case of a chip & pin card) and fed into the computer system.

Plastic cards are used in banking systems, credit cards, security passes e.t.c.

10. Smart Cards

The next generation of plastic cards will have funds actually on the card itself (rather than simply providing online authorization to transfer funds). The card will be read in the same way as chip & pin cards, but funds then transferred direct from the card to the super markets (or other seller’s) bank account. The smart card will be recharged with money at specialist ATMs.

11. Voice Recognition

Voice recognition systems receive input as the spoken word. They are currently used in limited number of situations such as routing calls within call centres

Thanks for Reading.

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Jokes

2012-09-14T06:14:00.001-07:00

5 HILIARIOUS JOKES

1. An old man was critically ill. Feeling that death was near, he called his lawyer. "I want to become a lawyer. How much is it or the express degree you told me about?"

"It's $50,000," the lawyer said. "But why? You'll be dead soon, why do you want to become a lawyer?"

"That's my business! Get me the course!"

Four days later, the old man got his law degree. His lawyer was at his bedside, making sure his bill would be paid.

Suddenly the old man was racked with fits of coughing and it was clear that this would be the end. Still curious, the lawyer leaned over and said, "please, before it's too late, tell me why you wanted to to get a law degree so badly before you died?"

In a faint whisper, as he breathed his last, the old man said, "One less lawyer . . ."

2. Husband comes home from church,greets his wife, lifts her up and carries her around the house. The wife is so surprised and asks smiling, ”did the pastor preach about being romantic”?,Out of breath the husband replies,” No he said, the pastor said that we must always carry our burdens”…..

3. The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.

"Good morning, madam. I've come to...."

"Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in.

"Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies"

"That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"

After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"

"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!"

"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me""Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But, if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven different angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results"

"My, that's a lot of....." gasped Mrs. Smith."Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure"

"Don't I know it," Mrs. Smith said quietly.The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures.

"This was done on the top of a bus in downtown London""Oh my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well, when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with" "She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get a good look"

"Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Smith, eyes widened in amazement.

"Yes," the photographer said, "And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. I could hardly concentrate.

Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in."

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "You mean squirrels actually chewed on your, um......equipment?"

"That's right. Well, madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so we can get to work."

"Tripod?????"

"Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold for very long. Madam? Madam? ....... Good Lord, she's fainted!!"

4. One day a florist goes for a haircut. After the cut, he goes to pay the barber and the barber replies: "I am sorry. I cannot accept money from you, I am doing a community service". The florist is happy and leaves the shop.

The next morning when the barber goes to open his shop, there is a card and a dozen roses waiting at his door. A butcher goes for a haircut the next day and he also goes to pay the barber and the barber reples: "I am sorry. I cannot accept money from you. I am doing a community service". The butcher is happy and leaves the shop.

The next morning the barber goes to open his shop and there is a thank you card and a package of steaks waiting at his door.

The next day a Fireman goes for a haircut and goes to pay the barber. The barber replies: "I am sorry. I cannot accept money from you, I am doing a community service".

The next morning when the barber goes to open his shop, guess what he finds at the door?

Can you guess?

Come on, think like a Fireman....

....two dozen other Firemen waiting for free haircuts!

5. Grieving

A man visiting a cemetery heard a second man who was kneeling at a nearby grave crying-out loudly, "Why did you have to die?!!? Why did you have to die?!!?".

The first man was so moved by the other man's obvious pain, that he walked over and lightly placed a comforting hand on the distraught man's shoulder and asked him, "Is this your wife?".

"No", replied the weeping man, "Her first husband!"