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irk! Is that
you? I admit I was frightened. William had been right: Dirk wasnt dead!
But I had seen him stabbed before my very eyes! Id slipped in his blood!
I watched his coffin go into the ground. I
had thrown the first handful of dirt on its glossy black walnut surface.
But the voice was unmistakable. Is that you, Dirk? I cried again.
Yes, Scott, its me. Do not be afraid.
I dont see why I shouldnt. Im not used to talking with the dead.
And you wont have to become used to it. Im as alive as you are.
Well, then Im not used to talking to people who used to be dead.
No problem there, either. I never died.
Bullshit! I was there. I saw it. I heard you screaming. I buried you,
you son of a bitch.
Yes, I know. It was a very nice funeral. Thank you.
What the fuck? Are you pulling some Huck Finn prank or what? If you werent
in that coffin, who was?
I was getting mad now.
And just a minute, Dirk, if in fact you are who you say you are, why
the white light cover-up? Show me your face, motherfucker. Prove to me
theres a body behind that voice.
Scott, please, calm down. I dont mean to upset you. Im your friend.
Always have been and always will be. I
just needed to get away from the madness for awhile before things between
you, William, and I got completely ruined. But, O.K., youre right, the
white light is a bit pretentious. Just a
minute.
After a couple of moments the white light gave way to a picture of Dirk
in a room I didnt recognize. He was dressed in a velvet smoking jacket
and sitting in the plushest office chair I had ever seen. Behind him was
a vast array of computers and monitors and other equipment I couldnt
identify. He looked healthy, rested, almost beatific. He smiled at me.
I felt my anger begin to melt a bit. It was good to see him again.
Hows that? he asked. Better?
Yeah, thanks. Good to see you. Still, if you dont mind me being skeptical,
how do I know its really you and not some special effects thing superimposing
your image and voice over some actor . . .
Dirk laughed. Ah, ye of little faith. You know, thats what I like about
you Scott. You were always the careful one. Well, obviously, Im in no
position to allow you to put your fingers in my wounds, and there arent
any wounds anyway, so how about this as a test. What if I tell you something
only Dirk would know about you? Would that suffice?
Well, I guess so. Though I had no idea what Dirk might know that no
one else knew.
O.K., remember that day, Scott, long before the Unknown ever began, I
think, when I came over to your apartment in Clifton
and walked through the unlocked door bellowing your name and you emerged
from your bedroom obviously a little flustered but I wasnt sure why
until out of that same bedroom walked. . .
Yeah, yeah, all right, all right. Hi, Dirk. Good to have you back.
Good to be back.
But dammit, where the hell have you been. And how do you explain everything
I saw, the stabbing, the blood, and the vampire, what about the vampire,
and wheres Frankwhat the fucks going on?
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