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Blackula
Jamarcus meets Count Blackula, May 6, evening

Jamarcus meets Count Blackula, May 6, evening

I slept in until early evening. I went downstairs to eat dinner or breakfast – I’m not sure which word is more appropriate. I left my plate on the table, but I didn’t see a servant come to take it away.

The castle was beautifully furnished. The furniture was made of exquisitely carved cherry wood. The curtains and upholstery were made with luxurious fabrics. Still, I couldn’t find a single mirror in the entire castle. There wasn’t even a mirror in my bathroom. I had to shave using my travel mirror.

I walked around the castle, but every door that I tried was locked. The only open room, besides my own bedroom, was the library. The Count had evidently been collecting books, magazines, and newspapers about Black English customs and manners. Entire shelves were filled with books about Black English history, Black English geography, Black English politics, Black English economy, Black English ecology, Black English geology – and my favorite – Black English law.

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Count Blackula entered the library.

“I’m glad you found your way in here,” said Blackula. “Did you know that I learned English entirely from books?”

“Really?” I exclaimed. “Your English is very good.”

“Thank you, but I only know the grammar and words,” he replied. “But I don’t really know how to speak the language.”

“But you speak excellently!”

“If anyone in London spoke to me, they’d immediately know I was a foreigner.’”

The Count scooted his chair closer to mine.

“When bad things happen, the first person they’ll be suspicious of is the foreigner,” said the count. “I want to blend in.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Even though we are all Black, and therefore, Black brothers and sisters, some people still treat foreign Blacks poorly.”

“You’re officially here as a representative of Hawkins Abebe, but I hope you’ll also stay here a while and talk to me, so I can learn the Black English intonation.”

“Err … Abebe Hawkins?”

“Oh, in the Black Hungarian language, the surname goes before the first name. See? That’s why I need you to point out my mistakes,” he said.

Blackula smiled and put his hands on mine. I felt hair on the palms of his hands. This time, I managed to conceal my shock.