Abraham Lincoln_ Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame-Smith [62]
“You will forgive my saying so,” said Speed, “but these are strange requests indeed.”
“They are what I require. I shall be glad to furnish you with the names of the—”
“Strange indeed—sir, are you certain we have not met?”
“Sir, are you able you order them or not?”
“Yes, I am sure of it! Yes… yes, I saw you give a speech July last at Salisbury! On the need for improving the Sangamon? Do you not remember, sir? Joshua Speed? A fellow Kentuckian?”
“I really must be on my—”
“A fine speech indeed! Of course, I believe you quite mistaken on the subject—every dollar spent on that miserable creek is a dollar wasted. But what a speech!”
He pledged to order the whole of my list at once, and (much to the relief of my weary ears) busied himself copying its contents. Before taking my leave, I inquired as to whether he knew of any rooms for rent—preferably cheap ones, as I had no money to pay at the moment.
“Well, sir… if you have no money, am I to take your meaning as ‘cheap,’ or ‘free’?”
“On credit.”
“Ah, ‘credit,’ yes… you will forgive my saying so, but I have learned that ‘credit’ is a French word meaning ‘I shall never pay you.’ ”
“I square my debts.”
“Oh, I doubt it not, I doubt it not. All the same, sir—you shall not find such a room in Springfield. People here are strangely accustomed to trading their wares for money.”
“I see… well, thank you for your time. Good day.”
Perhaps he pitied my circumstances or my weary countenance. Perhaps he was merely as friendless as I. In any case, he stopped me and offered to share his own room above the store “on credit—until such time as you are able to strike out on your own.” I will admit that I considered refusing him. The idea of sharing a room with such a pestering fly! I should rather take my chances in a stable loft! But, having no better option, I thanked him and accepted.
“You will, of course, require time to move,” said Speed.
Abe walked outside. A moment later, he returned with his saddlebags and set them on the floor.
“I am moved.”
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
II
Springfield was booming. Wooden shacks and oxcarts were giving way to brick buildings and carriages, and there seemed to be two politicians for every farmer. It was a long way from New Salem—and even farther from the frontier hardship of Little Pigeon Creek. But for all the excitement and advantage of urban life, there also came a cruelty that Abe was unaccustomed to. His description of one incident is a window into the growing violence of a growing city, and further evidence of Lincoln’s lingering melancholy.
I witnessed a woman and her husband shot and killed today—the latter being the responsible party in both deaths. I was on the street in front of our office, talking with a client, Mr. John S. Wilbourn, when I heard a scream and saw a woman of perhaps five-and-thirty years running out of Thompsons’. * A man came running after her with a pepperbox, ** leveled it, and shot her square in the back. She fell face forward in the street, grabbing at her gut, then rolled onto her back and made an effort to sit upright. She could not. Wilbourn and I raced toward her at once, caring not that her husband stood over her, pistol in hand. Others came into the street, alerted by the noise, and as they did they were met with the sound of a second shot. This one left a hole in the husband’s head. He, too, fell—blood pouring from the wound with every beat of his heart.
It is a strange thing how quickly the body dies. How fragile a force our presence