September 1970 - Page 37

This has been only the most recent in a long line of frustrating nights. Our continued inability to learn anything useful or helpful, and our failure to prevent or alter the significant events all contribute to my weariness, yet I am convinced that if Barnabas and I could change or even stop just one event, we could prevent the catastrophe that seems destined to destroy Collinwood. That no one believes us adds to our frustration, and fuels my suspicion that several people know more about things happening in this house than they are willing to admit. This only adds to the difficulties we continue to encounter. And I don't know what to do. I am beginning to almost believe there is no one in whom I can confide. I have tried hinting my fears to Barnabas, but he only gets stubborn, refusing to even consider the possibilities. Then he starts to panic, becomes unreasonable, and starts ordering me about. Sometimes all I can do is back away and chuckle to myself. Otherwise I'd lose my temper and my patience with him, and I learned long ago that accomplishes nothing.

Still, I must admit that, despite our lack of progress concerning Collinwood's destruction, good things have come to us this night. First, Barnabas has realized the foolhardiness and danger of allowing Roxanne Drew to remain free. He has decided to keep her chained in her coffin until we can discover some way of helping her. He won't consider the possibility that she, like Megan Todd not so long ago, does not want help; that she enjoys her existence in a way Barnabas never has, never could. I can see the anguish this decision has caused him and wonder if I was wrong, if I should have allowed Willie to destroy Roxanne when we had the chance and to hell with Barnabas' feelings for the woman. But I haven't the... incentive, the ability to be that cruel to Barnabas. I know that if by some odd, horrible twist of fate, I was in Roxanne's place, Barnabas would appreciate knowing the truth about me and being allowed some say in my fate. I can do no less for Roxanne, knowing in my heart that she, not I, is the woman with whom Barnabas finally has a chance of finding happiness. No, I do this for Barnabas, even though I suspect Roxanne will neither appreciate or understand Barnabas' reasons for restraining her. Nor do I believe his chaining Roxanne in her coffin will make her more receptive to Barnabas, his advances, and his fantasies about their future together. Roxanne does not seem the forgiving type but perhaps... she is as lonely as Barnabas and will forgive him most anything in order to spend their eternity together...

Secondly, and related to Barnabas' decision concerning Roxanne, is the fact we have done all we can for Maggie Evans in regards to making certain she is safe. At Sebastian Shaw's insistence, Barnabas and I have agreed to send Maggie away from Collinwood. I made arrangements for her to be admitted to Wyndecliffe, and Shaw is driving her there himself. Maggie's recurring dream - of which she told neither Barnabas or I - convinced Shaw that even though Roxanne is securely chained in her coffin, Maggie is still at risk. Her dream is that of trying to free a woman who is enclosed in something, and restrained by chains. Later, Shaw had a vision of Maggie, at the Old House, freeing Roxanne. In this, at least, Barnabas knows we have done all we can for Maggie.

Our efforts to keep Daphne alive have, so far, been successful, but not without trial. She and Quentin were both poisoned this evening, by Gerard Stiles' ghost, I am certain. I later felt his presence very strongly at Collinwood, and Shaw has predicted Collinwood will be destroyed tonight. Can our time truly be so short and we so far from being able to do anything? Perhaps we shall know by morning, for this night is far from over... (Episodes 1107, 1108)

If the first part of this night was frustrating, the second part has been frightening, terrifying, astounding, and given my life at Collinwood these past few years, ultimately not all that surprising. I have never thought of myself as a jaded individual, but perhaps Collinwood has forced me to become so. I also never expected to find myself in 1840, but here I am and for the moment I believe I am safe. I hope I am...

Despite all our efforts, Barnabas and I were unable to alter or prevent the events that preluded the destruction of Collinwood. The children and Daphne are dead, Quentin wandered off, I don't know where the others are or what may have happened to them, nor do I know where Barnabas is. He said he would follow me, but how and when...

Barnabas and I were being chased by creatures - zombies - summoned by Gerard, I believe, who were wrecking havoc and destruction on Collinwood. We fled to the hall outside the playroom. They followed us and broke through. Barnabas tried to fight them off and I opened the door to the playroom, to flee, but found instead the same stairway that brought us back to 1970 from 1995. Barnabas urged me - pleaded with me - to go, promising he would follow. I saw the zombies attack him just as I stepped onto the stairs. He went down and they surrounded him, then the door closed behind me and... I found myself here, in 1840.

What I have learned here will take some time to sort out, for things are not as we were led to believe they had been in 1970, but already I have a friend, an ally – Ben Stokes. He was Barnabas' loyal and devoted servant in 1795; he shared the truth of Barnabas' secret, his fate, and it is to him I have turned for help.

Ben is a dear, sweet man and I easily understand why Barnabas has such fond memories of the man; such respect and admiration for a man that anyone one else of Barnabas' time would have looked down upon if they even noticed him. Ben accepted and believed my story with surprising ease, and he has agreed to help me. I found it very poignant that Ben has the original portrait of Barnabas over the mantle in his bedroom. When I saw it there I admit to feeling a brief moment of comfort and longing in this very uncomfortable and bewildering situation. But I also felt a deep sense of isolation, not knowing a sole here, not having anyone but Ben to whom I can turn for... anything. When I went to 1897, Barnabas, at least, was already there, he could help me - order me about - as needed. Now, I just don't know. I will have to tread very carefully, proceed very slowly until Barnabas is able to join me.

For the rest of this night, Ben has hidden me in the playroom, just down the hall from his room. He has admonished me to make no noise, to stay in the room no matter what happens, and not to light a lamp. I have dared to light one anyway - very dimly - long enough to write this entry. I know I should try to rest, but I am too tense, and too worried about what may have happened in 1970 that has prevented Barnabas from following me, from joining me... Barnabas, where are you?  (Episodes 1109, 1110)

In my desperation to have Barnabas with me, I have done the most incredibly reckless, selfish, dangerous, stupid thing I can think of. I have released Barnabas Collins, the vampire, from his coffin. He is not the Barnabas I know, he is not my friend; he does not know me and only Ben Stokes' timely arrival prevented the vampire from killing me - strangling me. I convinced myself that because Barnabas had not followed me on the stairs as promised, he'd found another way to join me, via the I-Ching. His spirit would go to his body, chained in his coffin, and I would have to release him. I was so certain I heard him calling to me last night, wanting my help. As I stood in the outer room of the mausoleum, I had doubts - I should have listened to them, but I so want Barnabas here, I need him to be here so acutely that I convinced myself my Barnabas was in that coffin. My Barnabas. I can't believe I had the audacity to think of him that way. Barnabas is not mine, he never has been, but my panic and fear have kept me from thinking clearly. I can't remember ever being this frightened, even when I first encountered Gerard in 1995. It is a palpable fear, the kind that gathers in the pit of your stomach, heavy and hot, threatening to make you ill; a constant reminder that the situation has moved beyond any chance of your controlling it. That is what I have done. I have released that kind of fear, in the form of a vampire, on Collinsport.

This vampire - I can hardly think of him as Barnabas Collins - is so very angry and frightened himself. He is cruel, vicious, very mistrusting, impulsive and ruled by his curse. He is also extremely vulnerable, and I understand his fear at having been discovered - by me, a woman who claims to know him but whom he does not know. Again it was Ben's intervention that saved me, that allowed me to leave that mausoleum room alive. I have a very hard time thinking of this Barnabas - the vampire - as the same man I know and call friend; the same man I love. He is so very different, so very much like the frightened and angry creature I first encountered in 1967. The hatred and fury in his eyes as he tried to strangle me was so very familiar, so very much like the same qualities I first encountered in Barnabas so long ago. Yet I can see in him what he is capable of, the kindness, the gentleness, the caring. I know the man Barnabas has the potential of becoming, but he does not. He can obey only his vampire instincts and give in to the cravings of his curse. Already the ‘animal attacks' have begun, and I am to blame for them. I will put it right come dawn. I will chain Barnabas in his coffin again.

At Ben's insistence I have introduced myself to the current family as Julia Hoffman Collins, daughter of the original Barnabas Collins and sister to Barnabas Collins, who was to have met me here. I have extreme reservations about this plan, but I am committed to it now. How ironic that I have become a ‘member' of the Collins family this way. It is not the way I have hoped for, but for now it suits my needs and purposes, and is really the only possibility. It has allowed me access to the house as a ‘cousin'. None of this sets my mind at rest, I still need Barnabas here to help me and advise me. Barnabas, what has happened to prevent you from joining me?  (Episodes 1111, 1112)

Reluctantly, and with far less grace than would ‘befit a woman of my station' in this century, I have privately accepted that I may be on my own in 1840 for quite some time. Barnabas has not joined me, and if I am to believe the vision of a psychic named Leticia Faye, Collinwood was destroyed, flames consuming the drawing room and most likely other parts of the house. I must do what I can - here and now - to change that future. I have no idea of where to begin or how to do it, but do it I must.

This morning I had my first encounter with the living Gerard Stiles, and it was no more pleasant than dealing with his ghost. He confronted me in the foyer about an earring that had been found in the playroom two nights ago - the night I arrived from 1970. I did lose an earring that night, most likely when I was struggling with a sometimes mad Daniel Collins, trying to prevent him from strangling me. Gabriel must have found it when into the room to look around, and gave the earring to Stiles. Gerard saw the mate on the bureau in my room when he brought my bags in. I told him the earring was on the bureau when I was given the room, and that I had planned to bring it to Mrs. Collins' attention. I doubt he believed me, but we reached a stalemate. He could no more prove the earring was mine than I could prove it was not. While I don't feel the cold, calculating evil emanating from him as I did in 1995, and 1970, he is a dangerous man, and I will be extremely careful around him. It was stupid of me to have left the earring out, I should have slipped it in a drawer, and in that I will also be more careful.

Ben has, so far, not been successful in discovering where Barnabas moved his coffin. It was gone from the mausoleum secret room this morning when Ben and I returned there to chain Barnabas inside. I suspected Barnabas would do just as he has, but secretly - and vainly - hoped he would not, but he has his freedom and he will not easily give it up. If only I could talk to him, convince him that I can help him, but he is as distrustful and wary as when we first met, and in that I cannot blame him. Barnabas was betrayed - in some way - by all those he held dear; by his father, his sister, his mother, Josette, Angelique especially, and even Ben. He will not easily trust again. I know how long it took for Barnabas to begin trusting me in 1967, and I cannot expect to receive that kind of trust from him now, when he does not know me.

I have to constantly remind myself that the Barnabas of 1840 is not the Barnabas of 1970. We have shared so much, we have such an intricately entwined history between us, Barnabas and I, but it is a history that for the Barnabas of 1840 has yet to happen. He has no memories of it, perhaps cannot begin to imagine even a small portion of what I know to be truth. I know these things - logically - but emotionally I do not want to believe or accept it. I know I must, I know I will, but I would so rather have the Barnabas I know here, helping me.

I have asked Ben to wake me if he should have any information about Barnabas. I am going to try to get a good night's sleep. It may evade me, as it has for so many nights now, but I must try.  (Episodes 1113, 1114)

Today, for the first time, I found myself thinking I was glad that Barnabas is not here; that his 1970 self has not found a way back to his 1840 body, for he would be consumed by guilt to learn he is responsible for making Roxanne Drew a vampire. I have no solid proof, I have not actually seen him feeding from her, but it is the only conclusion I can reach. Barnabas would not understand or believe that I must share that guilt, for if I had not been so hasty, so desperate, the vampire would still be in his coffin.

I began to fear the truth when Samantha Collins confided to me her concerns about her sister, Roxanne. The symptoms she attributed to Roxanne were unmistakable. Only a little while later Ben and I found Roxanne on the floor of the gazebo, the obvious victim of a vampire - of Barnabas. We brought her to the Old House, where I have been treating her all day. I sent Ben to get the supplies I needed, then I gave Roxanne a transfusion of my own blood. I had never realized how convenient being the universal donor blood type would be until I came to Collinwood. It is fortunate I am, or Roxanne would be dead now and I faced with a different course of necessary action.

I think I might have shocked Ben a bit when I told him I was a doctor, but he said nothing, accepting it without question as he has everything I've told him since I met him. I am finding it quite fascinating, getting to know this direct ancestor of Eliot Stokes. They are alike in so many ways yet Ben, being the product of a different era, a different time, is a much simpler man. He gives the impression of being somewhat slow witted and unable to comprehend anything but the most basic of facts, but that is only a facade; an attitude adopted over years of servitude to those who automatically assume themselves to be superior to Ben. In many ways Ben is the better person. If I have the chance, and the time is right, I think I will tell Ben about Eliot. I think he will be proud to know that from his own humble beginnings his descendant will be able to achieve such academic recognition and respect.

I have just checked Roxanne again. Her color is better, her breathing easier, her pulse stronger, and I think if I can keep Barnabas away from her, she will live. I don't know how I shall keep Barnabas away from her, I will need more help than Ben alone can provide, and to ask for that help may risk revealing too much about myself. I will ask Ben's advise when he returns from Collinwood and fetching the alcohol I asked him to bring me. He is also a very wise man, with basic, simple advise, and after my first blunder in this time, I have learned to trust him. More than ever I understand and appreciate Barnabas' respect for the man.  (Episode 1116)

The absurdities and ironies of life are continually amazing, and I doubt I will ever cease to be surprised by them. Barnabas, my Barnabas is here. He came via the I-Ching, as I hoped he would, and... possessed himself seconds before his 1840 self attacked me. Had Barnabas not arrived when he did, I would be dead now, and his additional motivation to join me here would have been for nothing, his guilt as acute as if it had been Roxanne he killed.

I had stepped out of the room for a moment, and when I returned, I found Barnabas - the 1840 Barnabas - bending over Roxanne, preparing to drain her blood; my blood from the transfusion. I stopped him, called to him. His anger was fierce, more intense than I'd ever seen from him before, even in the beginning. He said he could not spend eternity alone, that he needed someone. I knew I was not that someone, then he attacked me with the intent to kill me.  I felt the need to scream, but I lacked the ability to do so. I felt the terror rush through me, remembered the... violation and helplessness when Tom Jennings... I felt Barnabas' fangs touch the skin of my neck, then he stopped... He pulled back, away from me, and passed out. When he came to, he was different, he was my Barnabas, although I was not prepared to believe him immediately. When I realized and accepted and processed who he was, my relief was overwhelming... Barnabas told me he and Stokes had found my grave in 1970, that I had died on this night, October 6, 1840... and I would have died; I would have been killed - by Barnabas - if his 1970 self had not taken over his 1840 body. Perhaps irony has less to do with it than fate. I don't really care to puzzle it out just now. I am simply so happy and relieved to have Barnabas, my Barnabas, here that I don't particularly care how or why it happened, only that he is here. I am no longer alone.

Roxanne, for awhile, posed a problem. Barnabas, 1970 Barnabas, does not wish to see her die and rise as he is, but cannot undo what his 1840 self started. The only solution I could suggest was to hypnotize her and try to eliminate her memories. For a few hours I was uncertain if I had been successful, but it appears the hypnosis worked. Samantha, Roxanne's sister, told me only a few minutes ago that Roxanne could remember nothing after returning to her room two nights ago. I have since confirmed this for myself, and at my first opportunity, I will try to strengthen and reinforce that hypnosis. Barnabas says he is determined to stay away from Roxanne, and I hope he means it, for even with the blood transfusion, she will not survive another attack.

The fact I am a doctor has been accepted quite easily by Flora and Samantha, perhaps out of gratitude that I was there and able to treat Roxanne rather than having to wait for help to arrive from the village, but less easily so by Desmond, Flora's son, and Gerard. I am sure I will be questioned by the men, who labor under the belief women can do nothing more than run the household, bear children and look pretty for them. But I will worry about that later. I am certain I can hold my own with them. For now, Roxanne is resting comfortably, Samantha is sitting with her, and I plan to get some much needed sleep. I suspect I will actually sleep soundly for the first time in days. Just knowing Barnabas is here has eased so very many of my tensions. We still have a great deal to do, but now we can do it as we intended - together. (Episode 1117)

After seeing Roxanne moved to her own home and her own bed, I returned to the Old House to wait for Barnabas. Daniel has given him this house to live in, and he has accepted. I would like to stay here with him, since Ben won't be able to guard him on a daily basis, but I cannot snub the hospitality I have been offered by my ‘cousins', and the house is not livable just now, so I will remain at Collinwood, and spend as much time here at the Old House as I can...

When I returned to Collinwood this evening, it was to a house in... turmoil and confusion. Ben was found dead this morning, apparently by his own hand. I did not know Ben well, or for very long, but I know he was not a man who would take his own life, especially in such an unlikely, grizzly manner. Gerard Stiles, who found him, said it looked as if Ben had tried to decapitate himself. That is most unlikely, and I must find some way to examine the body, to put Barnabas' mind to rest, if nothing else. Perhaps I can use the fact I am a doctor toward this purpose, although I suspect everyone will disapprove and feel it too gruesome of a sight for any woman - doctor or no. But I will find a way. That self-righteous fanatical twit, Lamar Trask, will do his best to keep me from it, but I will find a way.

Were it not so absurd, and ultimately sad, I would have to be amused by the situation - predicament - in which Samantha Collins finds herself tonight. Believing her husband, Quentin, dead at sea, she married Gerard Stiles this afternoon. In a plot twist that is worthy of the soap operas Mrs. Johnson sometimes watches in the afternoons, just as Samantha and Gerard were about to consummate their union, Quentin Collins arrived, very much not dead. I shall be interested to see how this dilemma is resolved, but I must now concentrate on Ben, and on why Barnabas and I are here. I shall return to the Old House, to tell Barnabas of Ben's death, for I do not want him to hear about this from anyone but me.  (Episodes 1118, 1119)

Barnabas was very saddened, and distressed when I told him of Ben's death. He believes Ben killed himself no more than I do, and went to the Trask Memorial Chapel to pay his respects. Trask apparently has some rule that prevents the viewing of a body after sundown, but Barnabas persuaded Trask to allow him to see Ben. How I don't know - or really want to know. Reluctant as Trask was to let Barnabas see Ben, he was even more unwilling to leave Barnabas alone with the body - perhaps fearing Barnabas would defile it somehow? I could spend endless hours trying to analyze Lamar Trask and only begin to scratch the surface of his problems. No matter, again Barnabas convinced Trask to leave him alone with Ben, and after Trask had left the room, Barnabas let me in through a side door so I would not have to contend with Trask. I examined Ben's body as best I could without disturbing the rudimentary cosmetic work Trask had done, and I am convinced Ben's wound, while appearing to be self inflicted, is in fact not. Only a very angry, determined, and exceedingly strong man could have done that kind of damage to himself before passing out from the pain and loss of blood. Ben was none of those things. However, that leaves us with the probability that Ben was murdered, and the killer will no doubt go free, since all authorities involved are satisfied Ben was a suicide. It is easier than looking for a crazed killer or, this being Collinwood, a crazed killer of supernatural origin. Barnabas naturally wants to find Ben's murderer, and it took some convincing on my part that to do so would only raise suspicion of Barnabas and myself, something neither of us wants. Perhaps, as we learn more about what is going on here, we will also learn more about Ben's death, but with Barnabas only having - officially - met Ben such a short time ago, his excessive concern would be viewed as extremely suspect. I understand Barnabas' grief and frustration at Ben's death, and his anger that such a wise, honest, and good man will be remembered in a way he does not deserve, but for now, we can do little to change that...

The final piece of the jigsaw puzzle has fallen into place, but I keep thinking that the puzzle is all one color and we have no idea what the overall picture will reveal. Daphne Harridge has made her appearance at Collinwood. She seems to not know Gerard, and claims to be only passing through the village. With her arrival, mysterious as it is, and not in keeping with what little we know about her from 1970, Barnabas is certain the drama is about to unfold. I have a feeling it is just the prelude, and the first act will be something for which we are totally unprepared. Either way, I am certain he is right, and no doubt all acts of the drama will take on twists and turns we cannot begin to anticipate. I suspect those very complications and surprises will be the things that add color to the jigsaw puzzle, so we can begin to understand it. I also agree with Barnabas that we must - somehow - change the course of that drama so that Collinwood in 1970 remains whole and undamaged. As bizarre and as unhappy of a household as it sometimes is, Collinwood is our home, Barnabas' and mine, and neither of us wants to see it come to such an ignominious end.  (Episode 1120, 1121)

Ben Stokes' funeral was today. It was very well attended, but there was an underlying current of uneasiness, as if those present felt ashamed or embarrassed to be paying their last respects to a man who, allegedly in my mind anyway, took his own life. Everyone was polite and respectful, but it was difficult not to notice the surreptitious glances sent, not only at Ben's coffin, but at his granddaughter, Carrie. Those sent toward Carrie were often looks of either pity, or caution; the belief and fear that Ben's ‘suicide' had also tainted her. Fortunately the child was too grief stricken to notice. Flora and Leticia kept Carrie close to them and protected her from those who were not as kind or diplomatic as they should have been.

I was chatting with Daniel Collins afterward and he expressed the same opinion as Barnabas and I concerning Ben's death; that Ben did not kill himself. Sadly it is probably something we shall never know for certain, and something we shall not be able to prove unless we are very lucky, or it happens again...

... Barnabas has just left my room. He came up to escape the barbed exchange between Lamar Trask and Roxanne Drew. It is obvious to everyone around that Roxanne detests Lamar, but Trask either does not notice or does not care. I told Barnabas of Ben's funeral. I know he regrets not being able to attend, but long ago accepted the limitations of his existence, even though he will never be at peace with them. After a few minutes I sent Barnabas down to rescue Roxanne, using the excuse that I was ready to examine her.

As far as I am able to observe, Barnabas is firm in his determination to stay away from Roxanne, therefore preventing her from becoming a vampire. I know his intentions are good, but sometimes his will power, especially when it comes to younger women, isn't as steadfast as he'd like to think, or as I would prefer. I wonder if Barnabas realizes that by not turning Roxanne into a vampire now, in 1840, she will not survive until 1970, and when we return, she will not be waiting, chained in her coffin, as we left her. Or perhaps it is something Barnabas realizes, but refuses to face, refuses to think about, believing somehow things will work out and he can be together with Roxanne for eternity. It would not be the first time he has deluded himself where a woman is concerned...

... Roxanne has just left. She is recovering nicely, and I took the opportunity to reinforce the hypnosis and eliminate her memories more completely. I was sorry to do so, but for Barnabas' safety I had to. Trask was pressing her for information about what attacked her. I dared not let this chance slip by. Barnabas and I both realize Trask may prove to be an extreme danger, especially since he seems to have a letter, written by his father, mentioning the ‘animal' attacks that took place in 1796. That man will bear careful watching.  (Episodes 1122, 1123)