ÏTHE SOUND OF SILENT WINGS

BY LARRY STANLEY

The weather in Memphis is always changing. During the summer, it is hot and damp. In the winter, it is cool, and wet most of the time.

But, every year, in February and the first weeks of March, there is a winter storm. Lots of sleet, freezing rain, icy roads, and sometimes snow.

And people are always shocked by this. I once went to the library, and looked up the statistics. It turn out that this had been going on for at least a hundred years. But no one ever seems to expect it.

Some people never learn.

And it is a pain to drive in. I should know. I drive a cab on the night shift. It is bad enough when it is nice out, but when the weather is bad, all the nuts come out.

I often think that no human being should be allowed to drive.

And then there are the criminals. So far, I had been lucky; In five years I had never been robbed.

But, I had a few friends that were not so lucky. There had b Ñeen three killings of drivers in the last two months. it made no sense. The killer couldn't have gotten away with more that a few dollars each time.

The police called them "thrill kills". But I wasn't worried.

I hate to be afraid.

Like I said, I work the night shift. I prefer it that way. I had the chance a few months ago to change, but turned it down. I really don't like the daylight.

This night, it had started raining just after I came to work. It had started to sleet about two hours later. I was cruising slowly, when I saw someone waving at me to pull over.

It was a man, bundled up for the cold. When he pulled the door open, I could see that he was nervous, and I could almost smell the fear on his body. Behind him, I saw another figure move.

I tensed my legs to jump, when I saw it was a very pregnant woman.

"Please," the man said, "she is going to have our baby. My car won't start. Help us please."

I helped them both in, and then got back behind the wheel. They wanted to go to City Hospital, and while we were driving, I radioed dispatch, and had them call the emergency ward.

The woman was in a lot of pain. I could see it, and smell it on her. I didn't think we were going to make it. Her husband was trying to talk to her and me at the same time. Trying to convince her that everything was all right, and asking me why babies always came at a bad time.

"I mean, I wanted a kid, but why not in the summer? Or at least in the daytime?" he said at one point.

I smiled and shook my head, and told him, "This way, you get to see how much they are really worth. You go through all this trouble, and you decide later it was worth it, when they take that first step, or hear that first word. Makes it all worth while..."

I was cut off by a scream from the back seat, and the mans voice crying out that it was too late. Cutting my mirror down, I saw that she was about to deliver in my cab.

I stopped the car, and called the office to tell them what was going on. Grabbing my first aid box, I got out, and climbed into the back with them.

"Get in front," I told him, "I need room."

"I want to stay with her. She needs me."

"You did your part. You got her this far. Now MOVE."

He moved.

Two hours later, we were at the hospital. He was drinking coffee, and his wife and baby girl were doing fine.

"You handled that quite will, considering you are a cabby," the nurse said.

"In another life, I was a doctor," I told her with a smile.

She laughed, and said, "They want to name the baby after you. I hope you have a nice name."

I smiled and walked over to the man. He was sitting in a chair, with a soft smile on his face. He looked up when my shadow fell over him.

"I don't know how to thank you," he said. "I don't know what would have happened if you had not come by. We want to name our little girl after you, that is if you don't mind?"

"I'm truly honored. Name her 'Valentine'."

"That's not your name, I saw it on your license."

"True. But today is the fourteenth."

Five thirty in the morning. I had at least another hour before I could go back to the garage and log off.

I turned the radio to an oldies station, and settled back in my seat. The sleet had stopped, and I could tell it was going to be a cold, clear day. I slowed to a stop at a red light.

Something flashed at the corner of my eye, and I looked around as the door was pulled open on the right rear.

I could smell their excitement and their fear, on the two men as they slid across the seats. And I could smell something else.

"We want to go to the Terrace. The alley behind Don's Market," one of them said.

I knew the area. The Terrace was a low income housing development that was built back in the sixty's, and had gone down hill in a lot of ways since then.

"You fellows work at Don's," I asked.

They both laughed, and one of them said, "Yeah, we work hard for our money."

I laughed right along with them. All my senses were working now. "Say, do you guys like horror movies?"

"What?" one of them asked.

Shaking my head, I said, "Come on, guys. Horror movies. You know, Frankenstein, Wolfman, stuff like that?"

The bigger one laughed, and said, "Yeah, sure, like Jason or Freddie movies, that what you mean?"

I shrugged, and said, "Sort of. But I was referring more to the older type of suspenseful, horror films. The ones that were more psychological, and not quite so bloody."

One of them leaned over the back of the seat, and smiled. I glanced at him and saw his teeth. They were yellow from smoking, and looked in bad need of dental work. The way I was sitting, he could not see my face.

"I like blood", he said. "I think it looks nice dripping down."

His friend laughed once more.

"I especially like cabdriver blood," he continued. "There are so many of them, who notices?"

"So you are the thrill killers?" I said.

The other one moved his head up beside mine, next to the window. I could feel his breath on my ear, and I could smell the cheap liquor on it. "I love that name," he said.

I turned the wheel slightly, and pulled over to the curb. I turned my head, and looked at the one on my right. "I've been looking for you," I said.

Behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric, and I caught the odor of something metal, most likely a knife. The one I was facing was still smiling, as he pulled out a small pistol.

"You're Wrong," he said, "we've been looking for you."

My hand moved out, and I caught the side of his neck, squeezing the nerves and vessels to his brain, until he fell over the seat. He was still awake, but he could not move. His friend hadn't noticed yet. I could feel him moving towards me, waiting for his friend to make the first move. Instead, I reached out, and turned my mirror, where I could see him.

And that's when I smiled.

"About movies. I always liked the ones that had just a little bit of reality about them. You know, in most of those movies, once in a while, they would touch on just a little of the reality, along with the mythos. Did you know, that there was a Doctor Frankenstein? And the legends of the Werewolf is in almost every culture, from the ancient Egyptians, to the American Indian?"

Now I could smell the confusion. Soon I would smell the fear. I felt the cold point of his weapon against my neck, and I knew it was an ice pick.

I felt it puncture my skin, at the base of my skull. It would have killed a human being.

As I turned toward him, I could smell his terror.

I looked at him, my fangs gleaming. "But I love vampire movies."

Seven-thirty in the morning, and I am standing in front of my door. I just picked up a paper, and read the headlines. The sun is coming up over my shoulder, and since it is still obscured by clouds, I turned and looked towards it.

On my way home, I had stopped for some milk at a market, and overhead a police officer talking to the owner.

They had found the bodies of the thrill killers. Both of them had had their necks broken, and a number of wounds on them. But, the officer said, "There wasn't much blood."

I wasn't worried. They would never find my marks, not with all the wounds on them.

The sun. Like I said, it was covered by clouds, but it was still strong. If I were not wearing very dark glasses, it would give me a very bad headache. As I said, in the movies, they had some of the truth, but not all of it. The sun is the giver of life, not the taker. Even for my race.

Some can walk in it, but not easily. Me, as long as we keep my eyes protected, I'm safe. I can't change shape, or dissolve into mist, and I am way hard to kill. Even a wooded stake has not stopped me. I am different then the rest of them in that way, at least.

I went into my house, and looked around the room. I have a lot of junk scattered around. Books, art, antiques of different types. I have a lot of stuff in storage all over the world.

Hey, you collect a lot of crap in three thousand years.