We look before and after, and pine for what is not;
Our sincerest laughter with some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
~ Percy Bysshe Shelly
Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.
His name is Alan Mackenzie and while still living his human life he faithfully served as Quentin the Vampire Botanist’s valet and butler. Later he was promoted to Estate Manager, but regardless of title, he was always and ever Quentin’s good and true friend.
Quentin’s parents were hardly ever around and when they were, they weren’t. His mother far too busy socializing, his father much too engaged in gambling, together their parental sense combined could not fill a buttercup. The lonely, odd, and somehow lost little boy was often left in the care of Alan. He was one of the very few people that could make Quentin laugh and became the only man that Quentin ever trusted.
As many of us can attest, Life can throw us bitter curves and wrench our hearts with twisted luck. We all have regrets or sadness to bear. Quentin’s deepest grief came from the fact that Alan Mackenzie saved his mortal life and lost his own while doing so. He wasn’t even given time enough with his friend to thank him or say good-bye. Yet to have become a Vampire he could do nothing to bring Alan’s sweet and brave, funny and smart soul back to this world. Like only we mere mortals can, helpless to do otherwise, he grieved the loss of his friend.
Many years later, when Quentin began conducting his plant experiments he knew that though his plants were fierce and each had their own special defense, he needed a protector for them. Someone he could trust. Someone not a vampire. Someone who would watch over them all day and all night. Someone or…something.
He could think of no one more valiant and trustworthy than Alan. He exhumed Alan’s body and in a macabre ceremony, removed the rotted, earth-bound flesh and imbued Alan’s bones with plant and Vampire essence.
Alan is glad to once again be of service to Quentin and now sits at the garden’s gate, watching over the PlantVampings and occasionally regaling them with stories of Quentin as a boy or entertaining them with his jokes, which are always of the most moldy and cornball variety. No one cares though and everyone always laughs, because somehow Mr. Mackenzie has a special way of making a bad joke sound very humorous, indeed.
It was a true delight to sketch Mr. Mackenzie. Running an estate as vast as Quentin’s can keep one very busy. Although from what Quentin imparted to me, no matter how busy he might be, Alan always had time create laughter. He’s even more lighthearted now. As did life, death suits him. It doesn’t suit everyone, you know.
I drew Mr. Mackenzie in pen, scanned and uploaded him onto my laptop. I then printed him out on 100% recycled stock (Quentin would approve) and painted him.
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