Fangs for Everything

by Tommy Greenwald

  I thought for a second. “One.”

  “That’s correct. His assistant, Saxton. Other than that, he operates in the darkness. That’s the only way he can be effective.”

  Elroy smiled, and there was a hint of sadness in his smile, as if he knew that what he was about to say would disappoint me. “So my best answer is: If you think someone is a vampire, chances are they’re not. Because most vampires would never, ever let you suspect a thing.”

  I nodded, and a weird, peaceful feeling came over me, as if he was saying what I knew to be true in my heart all along.

  Elroy looked at his watch. “Well, I must be off. More books to sign, more hands to shake, more Purell to use. I’ve so much enjoyed meeting all of you.”

  My dad shook his hand. “My son will never forget this day for the rest of his life. You’ve been so kind. Thank you.”

  “It was my distinct pleasure.” Elroy glanced over at his son. “Come along, Edison, we mustn’t be late.”

  Edison hustled over to the door and held it open for his dad, and I felt a little bad for Edison—it seemed like all he was there for was to do whatever his dad asked.

  After Elroy left, I stood there for a minute, just staring down at my book.

  “That is, like, the coolest thing ever,” Sharona said, from the other couch. I’d forgotten she was even there, but she’d obviously been listening the whole time.

  “I know,” I said, trying to sound calm. “Thanks.”

  “You know an actual vampire?”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed. “I guess not.”

  The other guys sat on the couch and thumbed through their own books. No one said anything to me, as if they knew that I needed a minute to figure out the gazillion confusing emotions I was feeling. On the day I met my hero and he told me to keep dreaming, I realized once and for all that the dream I’d had about Abby wasn’t true.

  My dad came over and put his hand around my shoulder. “Quite a day. Should we go get something to eat?”

  “Yes, please!” said the rest of the guys.

  I nodded and slowly got up. Abby, who’d been snoozing, stretched and looked up at me with nothing but love in her eyes.

  So she wasn’t a vampire. She was still a great dog, and she was mine. That was enough for me.

  “Let’s go, Ab,” I said.

  And we headed back out into the great big world.

  I DOUBT THERE’S any place in the world that has more hot dogs than New York City.

  That’s because at every corner of every street, there’s a man—well, not always a man, but almost always a man—standing at a little cart, selling them for two dollars a dog (which is a lot!). When we walked to the convention center, we must have passed at least twenty carts. And every time we did, the same thing happened.

  “Dad, can we get hot dogs?” I’d ask.

  “Not unless you want to die of food poisoning,” he’d answer.

  So, no hot dogs on the way to meet Elroy Evans. But when we left, the strangest thing happened.

  We passed a hot dog cart.

  “Mr. Bishop, can we get hot dogs?” Baxter asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” my dad answered.

  FACT: Parents might say no to you, but they’ll probably say yes to your friends.

  And just like that, there we were, eating New York City hot dogs. Can you get food poisoning from too much yumminess? Because those babies were delicious.

  “Just be careful you don’t spill any ketchup on your invaluable new possessions,” my dad said. He meant our books, of course. But there was little chance that was going to happen, since I had my book wrapped in plastic, which was wrapped in Bubble Wrap, which was wrapped in paper, which was inside a shopping bag, which was tied and stapled at the top.

  Abby stared up at us, searching in vain for scraps that didn’t fall. I scratched her ear, but she didn’t take her eyes off my meal. Dogs can have great powers of concentration when they want to.

  My dad, who was the only one not eating a hot dog, pointed off in the distance. “See over there, you guys? About three blocks that way? That’s Times Square. And the top of that building is where the ball drops on New Year’s Eve. If you look, you can see the ball now, because it’s there all year round. It used to be shaped like an apple, in honor of the Big Apple, which is New York City’s nickname, but now it’s just a big colorful ball.”

  We all squinted, especially Irwin, even though he was the one with glasses. “My parents let me stay up last year,” he bragged. “I saw the ball drop; it was so cool!”

  I tried to see what my dad was talking about. There were a bunch of giant buildings that looked like they went straight up through the clouds, and there were billboards and huge TV screens and more color and motion and activity than I’d ever seen in my life, but I couldn’t find any building with a ball on top of it.

  “I don’t see anything,” I told my dad.

  “Well, maybe that’s because of all the buildings in the way. Here, hop up on my shoulders for a sec.”

  “Okay.” I put down my shopping bag, handed Abby’s leash to Daisy, and climbed up on my dad’s shoulders. He pointed again. “See it?” I wasn’t sure I did, but I didn’t want to be the only one missing this cool thing, so I said, “Oh yeah! There it is!”

  “I’ve been coming to this city for about thirty years,” my dad said. “And it never ceases to amaze me how gigantic and incredible it is.”

  “My mom always says New York City gets a bad rap,” Daisy said. “She says that people think everyone here is mean and rude, and there’s a lot of crime and stuff, but it’s actually one of the safest cities in the world, and the people are really nice.”

  My dad nodded his head, which made me bobble on his shoulders a little. “That’s absolutely true,” he said. “The people here are the best.”

  It was between the words the and best when someone in a Jonah Forrester cape and mask came out of nowhere, darted up to us, grabbed my shopping bag off the ground, and took off—all in about three seconds.

  Here’s the crazy thing: we all watched the whole thing happen, but none of us moved. It was almost like we were watching a movie. There was no way someone just stole the most important thing anyone had ever given me! That couldn’t really happen, right?

  Except it did happen.

  Finally, after a few seconds, my dad yelled, “Hey! Stop that person! They just stole my son’s book!”

  And just like that, somebody sprang into action.

  Abby.

  She took one look up at me, still on my dad’s shoulders, and then took off after the thief. Of course, that meant that Daisy also took off, because she was holding Abby’s leash.

  “AAHHHHHHHHH!” said Daisy, in the split second before she and Abby disappeared around a corner.

  Well, that was all the rest of us had to hear. I scrambled down from my dad’s shoulders, and then we all sprinted around the corner too. The thief in the Jonah Forrester costume was still about a block ahead of Daisy and Abby, and they were all heading straight for the spot in Times Square where the New Year’s Eve ball dropped. I hated that ball right then. If it didn’t exist, none of this would have happened.

  “Daisy, stop!” yelled my dad. “There are too many cars! It’s dangerous!”

  “I’m trying to stop!” she said. “But Abby won’t let me!”

  “Then drop the leash if you have to!” I yelled.

  Daisy shook her head as she kept lurching ahead. “I can’t let Abby run out into the street!”

  This was it—the moment of truth. Did I believe in Abby? Did she have the ability to dodge traffic in the middle of New York City? Was she a superhero crime-fighting vampire dog??

  I did. She did. And she was.

  “She’ll be okay!” I yelled. “Let her go!”

  And so, at the corner of Forty-Second Street and Broadway—which my dad later told us was one of the busiest intersections in the entire world—Daisy dropped Abby’s leash. Luckily, a policewo
man on a horse spotted Abby running at full speed across the street, and she managed to stop traffic. We ran across the street too, and suddenly we were in a part of Times Square where there were no cars. It was like a big outdoor mall, with people everywhere and tons of tourists taking selfies. And just like COM-MIX, there were tons of people in costumes: there was Elmo, Cookie Monster, Buzz Lightyear, Superman, Spider-Man, Batman, and, believe it or not, a man wearing nothing but underwear and a cowboy hat playing the guitar!

  It occurred to me right then and there that New York was a pretty strange place.

  My dad ran up to the policewoman on the horse, trying to get her to chase after Abby and the thief, who were still way up ahead. I wasn’t sure the horse could get through the crowds to catch either one of them. But I wasn’t worried, because I also knew how this would end.

  I’d seen it all before.

  In my dream.

  “Come on, Jimmy, you have to do something!” pleaded Irwin, right on cue.

  “We’re all counting on you!” added Baxter.

  I knew what I was going to say way before I said it. “It’s all up to Abby now.”

  The bad guy still had my bag in his hand, and I wondered why someone would want a random shopping bag so badly that he would risk getting run over by cars and caught by a very angry dog with big fangs. But before I had time to think any more about that, I saw the thief weave around a family eating giant pretzels, hop over a little girl posing for a drawing, and run smack into the Statue of Liberty.

  Or to be exact, a person dressed as the Statue of Liberty.

  After being bowled over, the Statue dropped her (or his) torch, and it fell right on the thief’s head, knocking him to the ground. Abby, meanwhile, jumped over a Bert, sprinted around an Ernie, scooted between a Mickey Mouse’s legs, and pounced right on top of fake Jonah Forrester.

  “Are you kidding me?” fake Jonah yelled. “What is she, some kind of magic freak dog?”

  (Well, to be honest, I’m not sure those were his exact words, but since they were the words of the evildoer in my dream, that’s what I’m going with.)

  My dad, Irwin, Baxter, Daisy, the policewoman on the horse, and I all ran up to them. “You did it!” I said to Abby, giving her a big hug. “I knew it! I knew you could do it!”

  She looked up at me, and I could swear there was a yellow glint in her eyes.

  Hey, wait a second, I thought to myself. Vampires have yellow eyes!

  “Look, you guys!” I said, pointing at Abby. “Look at her eyes! They’re yellow!”

  Irwin, who loved bursting my bubble any chance he got, pointed up at a giant screen towering over us, which was showing some weird random video of five bananas dancing. “It’s just a reflection, Jimmy. Sorry.”

  But I didn’t care. Abby was a hero, and now the whole city of New York knew it.

  The policewoman walked over and jumped off her horse. “So this is the guy who stole your bag?”

  “That’s him,” said my dad. “And that’s the bag right there.”

  The policewoman took the bag and gave it to my dad, who handed it straight to me. I vowed silently that I would never let go of it again.

  “Well, let’s take a peek under the hood, shall we?” said the policewoman. She reached down to the perpetrator’s face and flipped up the Jonah Forrester mask. We all gasped.

  In a day full of twists and turns, this might have been the craziest surprise of all.

  It was Edison Evans.

  “HEY, GUYS,” EDISON said, from his position sprawled on the ground, with Abby still on top of him. “I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing in this Jonah Forrester costume, stealing your bag.”

  Daisy was the first of us able to speak. “You could say that again, Edison,” she said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

  The cop scratched her head. “Wait a second—you know this guy?”

  “Yes, we do,” my dad said, nodding. “He’s a family friend. I’m afraid this is all a big misunderstanding.”

  I looked up at my dad. “He is? And it is?”

  “Of course.” My dad turned to the policewoman. “We’re very sorry to have bothered you with this—I was just concerned for the safety of the children and our dog. Thank you so much for your time.”

  “Your horse is beautiful,” Baxter chimed in. “It must be awesome getting to ride him all day.”

  “It is,” said the policewoman. “But it’s even better when people and animals don’t go running through traffic because of a misunderstanding.” She tipped her cap. “You folks have a good day now.” She hopped back up on her horse, and they trotted away.

  “New York’s Finest,” said my dad, nodding his head in appreciation.

  I reached down and grabbed Abby, which allowed Edison to finally get up. “Thank you for not turning me in, Mr. Bishop,” he said, wiping the city grime off his black Jonah Forrester cape. “That was very kind of you.”

  “I don’t need your thanks,” said my dad. “I need an explanation. You risked our safety with this little stunt of yours. What the heck was that all about?”

  “Yeah, why did you steal my best friend’s book?” Irwin added. “That was a terrible thing to do.”

  Baxter and Daisy nodded, and Edison looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole, which I would have happily dug for him. I was still so mad! But his face looked really sad, and really guilty, and I started to get a little less mad just looking at him.

  “I’m very, very sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Edison said. He was talking slowly, like he were trying to pull the words out of himself, as he sat down on a curb and stared up at the giant buildings all around us. “Did you know my dad based Jonah Forrester on me? It’s true. I loved vampires as a kid, and so he started making up stories at bedtime about a vampire named Jonah, and I asked him if the vampire lived in the forest, and he said no, but his last name was Forrester. And the whole series came out of that. But I never got any credit, or money, or anything. And to this day my dad thinks of me more like an assistant than a son.”

  I thought about how Elroy talked to his son in the greenroom. It made sense.

  “I guess I really grew to resent it over the years,” Edison continued. “And then today, when I saw him give you that book, I guess I lost it.” He looked at me. “Do you know he’s never given me a first edition of any of his books? Not once. Elroy Evans is a hero to kids like you, and he’s this amazing writer and everything, but you know something? He’s not the greatest dad in the world.”

  Edison took a deep breath, as if he was exhausted. I sat down on the curb next to him. Neither one of us said anything. Abby came over and leaned her head on my lap, and Edison scratched the top of her head, which made Abby purr. It was hard to believe they’d been archenemies five minutes earlier.

  “By the way,” Edison said, “that’s a pretty incredible dog you got there.”

  I smiled.

  “I know.”

  AFTER A FEW more minutes of Edison apologizing and us deciding to forgive him, he told us that he and his father were staying only three blocks away.

  “It’s the fanciest hotel in the city,” he said. “Do you guys want to see it?”

  “Sure!” we all said, before my dad could say no.

  FACT: Some hotel lobbies are bigger than some small countries.

  “Holy cannoli,” I said—even though I still had no idea what that meant—as we walked into the lobby of the Hotel Magnifique. It looked like everything was covered in gold, including the grand piano that stood right in the middle of the marble floor. There were a lot of people walking around, but I can promise you that none of them were dressed like Elmo or Spider-Man.

  “Come on up to the suite,” Edison said. “You can see what six New York Times number one bestsellers can buy you.”

  “Can we, Dad?” I asked.

  He sighed. “If I say no, will you listen to me?”

  We got in an elevator—which was bigger than my bedroom at home, by the wa
y—and headed up to the penthouse suite. The elevator doors didn’t open onto a hallway with rooms, like a typical hotel—they opened right into the suite, which was the whole floor.

  “Hello?” a voice called from a long distance away.

  “Oh, wow,” said Edison. He suddenly looked worried. “Dad’s here.”

  Elroy Evans emerged from a room way down the hall. He had the same dismissive look in his eyes that he did earlier, in the greenroom, when he was ordering his son around. “Edison! I wondered what had happened to you. You shouldn’t just leave like that. After the signing I came back here, thinking maybe you weren’t feeling well.” It seemed at first like he hadn’t even registered there were other people with his son, but then he saw me. “My goodness. Jimmy? Were you all together? What on earth is happening here?”

  “Dad, I—” Edison began, but I interrupted him.

  “We ran into Edison on the street. It was so funny! He told us he was staying in the nicest hotel in the city, and we begged him to show it to us. We’re really sorry, Mr. Evans; we didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  Elroy looked confused. “Please, call me Elroy. And you’re not disturbing me, although, Edison, I do wish you’d checked with me first.”

  “No, Dad, that’s not what happened,” Edison said. “Jimmy here is just being nice.”

  I exchanged a glance with Irwin, and I think Daisy and Baxter exchanged one too. My dad shifted his feet uncomfortably.

  Edison cleared his throat. “What actually happened is that I was upset that you gave Jimmy the first-edition book. So I followed them out of the convention center, to a hot dog stand where they were eating hot dogs, and then when they weren’t looking, I took the book. I took it, and then I ran away. And Abby, this little dog, chased me all the way to Times Square and caught me.” He let out a big sigh. “And that’s what happened.”

  Elroy sat down slowly on a couch, as if he were about to lose his balance. “I—I’m speechless. You mean to say you stole the first-edition book? But why?”