主妇丈夫倡导的户外生活

The light of the sun was blinding in Los Angeles. Howard Jones had to arrange for the 6 hour flight on the day his son had returned, and on the following night, had to take that flight into places he had never been before. 

This was the second time he had been to LA, just not in the area where he first met the illustrious Yakov Perelman.

For a man that was so well-known and regarded, he tended to live in the more isolated and destitute areas. He lived at the beach, where the sun was high and shining, but people don't really live on the beach. They tend to live closeby, yes, but prefer to be in the bustling city where the sound of the waves would not serve as white noise to everything else.

His house also had more open areas. The windows had no panes or bars, just completely open. With the exception of Yakov's room which was situated down into the basement for some reason, every other room had scorching sunlight passing through them. 

Howard was pretty sure that such design and location would not be allowed even by Malibu standards, but perhaps Yakov was rich enough to be an exception.

He had no way to knock on the door. Instead, he greeted the bodyguard standing by the door. There was always one, changing every 8 hour's shift, and were almost comparable to the Royal Guards in the UK, standing completely still in their red uniform.

Howard approached the current one standing like a statue in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He pulled out a letter from his pockets. 

"Ahem. I have come here to see Mr. Perelman. He had accepted my request a few months ago." 

The guard didn't say anything, observing him. He then said:

"What is that on your neck?"

Howard pulled his collar down. "Oh, this? This is just a birthmark. Just two moles, to be honest."

The guard squinted his eyes. Then, he took the letter to verify its contents.  He made sure that Mr. Perelman's personal seal was not forged, and that the letter was written in his handwriting. He was very thorough and this took 5 minutes. 

eαglesnovel`c,om Finally, he took out his walkie-talkie. "Mr. Perelman, front door speaking. Asking for your confirmation for the visit of one Howard Jones, Sir."

He waited as the sea breeze interfered a little with the signal. Soon, the static noise went away, and there came the ragged voice of an old man.

"Send him in."

The guard nodded, and put back his walkie-talkie. "You may enter."

Howard went inside, and saw just how minimalistic the whole house was. The only decorations were very old vintage mirrors, some wooden spikes, and a jar of marbles at the very center sitting over the mantle of the living room table. That mantle was actually a fish net. 

Strange and eccentric as it was, Howard was an artist and didn't see it that way. He only appreciated how wonderful their arrangement was….

And how practical while also being subtle.

"It's you, isn't it? The one marked by the Night." He then heard the ragged voice behind him.

An old man with a tube attached to his throat said. He had a machine that was helping him with his breathing. He came in a wheelchair, and Howard could not help but be reminded of the time he once had to use one.

It never felt troublesome just… It's just that he had forgotten how useful his legs were when he could simply rely on his arms. 

But now that he could use them again, even if they're not 'real', he came to realize how much different and easier things were if you were not disabled. 

Howard smiled softly at this question.

"Unfortunately, yes."

The old man wistfully laughed at this. 

"I've always wanted Her, you know. But I was not chosen. After all my years learning more and studying the depths of Her being, I thought that it was my right to have Her as my bride. To be the one marked by Her kiss and bring into existence the Child of the Night."

Howard looked amused at this. "The Night is not a….. Nevermind. I need your assistance, Sir. I know what great pains you take to not be visited by the Night anymore. You use the sun as your shield and hide when the dark approaches. So you must know how to end the Night's existence too. Permanently."

To this, Yakov laughed. 

"Hahahaha! Ah, what a silly boy." His Russian accent slipped a bit as he said the word 'silly'. 

Howard was not amused by the laughter, but didn't chide him and let the bitter old man have his fun.

Yakov had to stop laughing as his machine beeped, and he coughed painfully. Still, a smile remained on his thin, wrinkled lips. "You are asking the impossible. You may kill the personification of the Night, but you can never end it. It is always there, even before the Light." 

Howard gritted his teeth. "But I have to. The Night had already taken my wife, and it will take my son too—"

"Ah, you have no wife, my boy. Once the Night has chosen you as Her groom, you are Hers and Hers alone."

Howard closed his mouth as this, unwilling to accept it. He will do anything to get the answers that he sought. And he had been looking for it for such a long time. Before Yakov accepted his letter, he looked everywhere else.

But he knew the old delusional man was the one with the key that leads to the door. The door that leads to the truth.

He kneeled down to the old man's level, looking at him straight into those eyes full of cataracts.

"You are a man of science. You must know something, anything. You have studied and are studying the nature of the Night in a scientific way, haven't you? Haven't all of you?"

The man closed his mouth. "Those of us who keep pursuing that…. are fools."

"No. You are trying to save the world from… Her. Humanity itself. If you truly believed there was no way, you would not hide from Her. You would take death into your own hands, or succumb to Her embrace. Now tell me what it is that keeps you in that mortal shell."

The man felt compelled to do so as he stared into Howard's eyes. He felt shivers down his spine, and laughed again.

"Extraordinary…. Her kiss is truly extraordinary."

Howard gritted his teeth. "Even if it's extraordinary, it's the kiss of betrayal still. Unlike you, I never beckoned the Night. It came to me and didn't leave me any choice. It fooled me."

"She didn't. You were beckoned, and you fool yourself to believe that you could have avoided Her beckoning." The old man retorted.

"Do you hear Her calling for you still? Calling for Her beloved, Her sweet voice sinking into your flesh and to your bones while the others remain asleep, remain untouched by Her? How lucky you are, my friend. You talk of your wife, but she is the deceitful Day that makes you believe in the sunlight."

He then covered Howard's eyes. "But if you go beyond this planet in a silly spaceship... Isn't the Darkness what we see beyond our 'sky'? When you close your eyes to sleep and when you close it for the last time…. Isn't it the Darkness that greets you and welcomes you back? Back into Her loving embrace."

"She has waited. She has waited for you for such a long time."

The veins on Howard's neck jutted out as his breathing turned heavier, his whole body panicking like a caged animal. With his eyes closed like this, he could see it…

He could see the Night and hear its calls.