“Not many Olympic meets end in death.”
“Listen! I have to practice killing monsters. What if I get out there and I drive the stake into the wrong place?” I quoted a line from Dracula and the Disco of Doom. “Through the heart is a great start.”
“Through the lung and you’re done,” said Dad.
Mom swallowed. I realized she was biting back words in that repressed way that she does. “You are not helping, Reginald!”
Dad cleared his throat. “No, of course not, Polly.” Dad shifted his attention toward me. “Abby, hunting monsters is not something you go out there to do. You avoid it if you can.”
Hunh? I wasn’t avoiding this. I was ready. If last night proved anything, it proved I could use the backpack of doom in an emergency. Mom and Dad were thinking like stereotypical superheroes in comics. Protection of innocents is the reason superheroes never get together, to keep from having children they had to protect from those people who were their archenemies. Well, the time for thinking like that was way over. I was already here, and Vince and I were already the targets for old family “friends.”
“You do it,” I said. “I don’t see you avoiding anything.”
Mom contemplated her long hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. “I am not giving in. Not an inch. I will not have you out there looking to save the world.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t even pretend you are in the right here. What you and Vince should have done was come to us about Ned. We are trained professionals.”
“His mom and dad were weird about Ned.”
“The issues are complicated for Nicole and Charlie. Why didn’t you talk to your father and me?”
I twiddled the handle of my fork. “I thought—”
“You didn’t think at all. Mr. Christopher tells me the vampire you were chasing saved you from being stabbed. What if he hadn’t been there?”
Dad sat down on the other side of me. “Abby,” he said, “why did you decide you needed to kill Ned? Did he do something to you?”
“No.” I looked from Mom to Dad and back again. “He’s a vampire. We had evidence he was. He was following Vince, and Vince was in danger, and what you do to vampires is slay them.”
Mom and Dad did the parental gaze over my head. “You were right, Polly. It is my fault. Too many movies.”
“Yes,” said Mom. “It is your fault.”
“Thank you,” said Dad. “That attitude makes swallowing this bitter pill so much easier.”
“All you’ve done since she was tiny is fill her head with...with...Anvil Studios.”
What was Mom’s problem? Dad’s films had taught me almost every technique I needed to stay alive out there. “Mom, lay off Dad. He was trying to get me ready.” My face reddened. “I am ready. You know, how you let me play with your potions and stuff? Trying to get me ready?”
“No. That was learning chemistry.”
“Chemistry with something extra!”
“Abby,” said Dad, “I will not tolerate you talking back to your mother like that. Apologize.”
Mom arched an eyebrow. Dad crossed his arms. Behold the power of the unified front.
“I’m sorry.” They looked disappointed in me, so they must have known I wasn’t pegging the sincerity meter.
Mom shook her head. “Mistakes have been made. Your father and I both underestimated your confidence and overestimated your common sense. We never imagined you’d do something like this.”
“It was exactly what you’d have done! Both of you!”
“Not so,” said Dad. “Neither of us would ever have jumped into the unknown like that.”
“There’s the issue of whether Ned was even a threat,” Mom continued. “Mr. Christopher said Ned acquitted himself quite well in spite of you.”
“Yeah,” I said, “Dad, I’ve been meaning to ask you about sending Mr. Christopher out last night into a
dangerous situation.”
“Mr. Christopher can take care of himself,” said Mom. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
“But he’s just a guy.” I chewed my lower lip. “You and Dad know he’s a vampire, don’t you?”
There are times in your life when you discover your parents are smarter than you think. I knew my parents were ace monster hunters, but I never considered they’d get beyond the Mr. Christopher blind spot. Apparently, I was the only one who’d decided there was a blind spot. It didn’t fit my view of the universe, having parents who knew Mr. Christopher was a vampire and letting him live.
I pulled my attention back to my parents. “Who told me the only good vampire is a dead vampire?”
Mom looked at Dad. “That one’s yours, dear.”
“Abby,” said Dad, “there is a difference between reality and film.”
Well, duh. “You always told me that your films were good for training.”
“In the vaguest sense,” said Dad. “I never imagined you would think of them as a how-to guide.”
“Wait,” I said. “What I’m hearing is that we coexist with monsters? We coexist?”
“Yes,” said Mom. “Violence is a last resort, and not anything you are going to be involved with at this age. If you’re lucky, you’ll never be involved with hunting monsters at all.”
“But I—”
Mom cut me off. “Hunting monsters is dangerous.”
“I won’t mess up!”
“Pretending you should kill anyone, dead or undead?” said Dad. “That’s psychotic. You are likely to run into some trouble, regrettably, because we are your parents.”
“How can I be prepared for trouble if you won’t let me practice?”
Mom rubbed her brow. “Are you even listening to us?”
“Dad, back when Ned became a vampire, why did you try to kill him?”
“Oh Abby,” said Dad. “He asked me to help him. I’m glad I didn’t succeed. You probably wouldn’t be here now.”
“We’re laying down some new ground rules,” said Mom. “There are only three places you can go unless you are with us. Home, school, and the roller rink.”
“The roller rink?” I echoed. Not what I expected to hear.
“Big Mel knows what to do to protect you. It’s always been a safe place for you and Vince.”
Even Big Mel was in on it. “What you’re both telling me is that you’ve spent your lives minimizing the danger in mine?”
“That’s what all parents do,” said Dad. “We just have to do it more than others. Now, no more independent excursions. No more threatening anyone.”
“Dad!” I said.
“We would just as soon you didn’t make yourself an easy and available target.”
I felt my jaw twitch. “I have never been an easy target!”
“We expect you to engage in more activities suited to a thirteen-year-old,” Dad continued.
Mom drained the last of her tea. “You also need to apologize to the Coopers.”
“I—”
“Not negotiable.”
“Is Vince grounded until he’s sixty-five?”
“Vince isn’t in trouble,” said Mom. “Mrs. Cooper blames you.”
That figured. Everyone seemed to, even though I couldn’t see that I’d done too much wrong.
“I’ll go apologize now.”
“I’ll take you,” said Dad. “I need to apologize as well.”
I placed my breakfast dishes in the sink and went to get my backpack.
As Dad and I took a stroll over to the Coopers, we were both quiet. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and my insides boiled. My parents didn’t trust me. I had expected to impress them, but instead, they had turned my world inside out. They didn’t want me to hunt monsters, which was turning out to be something different than I thought. What now? Was I expected to become a normal girl? Because I wasn’t on board for that plan. It’s a cruel world, where parents get to make all the decisions.
“Abby,” said Dad.
I glared at him. His hands were
shoved into his pockets, his tweed suit sleeves wrinkling above them.
“This is my fault and I know it. I will make it up to you. You’ll see.”
“By keeping me on a short leash? By making me into a peevee?”
“A what?”
“A peevee. A potential victim. Because I’m not going there.”
Dad stopped me and rested his hands on my shoulders. Artist’s hands, which tells you more about vampire killing than you’d suppose. “Listen, Abigail. Monster hunting isn’t something you look for. It finds you. I don’t want it to find you.”
“You hypocrite!”
He glared at me. “Full marks for vocabulary. No marks for attitude.”
We didn’t say anything after that. Dad ground his teeth. The warm wind tossed brown hair in my face, and I pawed at it. Stupid hair.
Vince was pulling ambitious weeds out of his mother’s flowers. Parked beside him in the driveway was Mrs. Cooper’s blue MINI Cooper. Vince told me how that came about. Mr. Cooper was like well, this has to be your car, and Mrs. Cooper is what they call long suffering, so she gave in, even though the punch line is obvious.
“Hey, Vince,” I said.
Vince didn’t talk to me, just went right back to the weeds. Fine. I took a breath. I was mad at Mom and Dad, not Vince.
“How in trouble are you?” I asked.
“Enough. You?”
I sucked on my lower lip. Dad rocked on his feet. “Enough.” Wind made the tree branches twitch. I decided to bite the bullet. “I’m here to apologize to your parents. And to you, of course.” No matter what my parents were planning for me, I was very sorry I had suggested the whole adventure for Vince’s sake. I didn’t understand where he was coming from last night. Turns out he knew more about my parents than I did.
Dad passed Vince and went inside. “Abby, don’t be long.”
Vince leaned against the siding of his house, close to the garage. A pan of old oil made me wrinkle my nose. “It’s a good thing we didn’t kill Ned,” he said.
“That’s what I’ve been hearing, all morning.”
“Mom and Dad still think of him as their friend.”
I sat on the cement stairs of the front porch. I needed to get something straight right away. “Vince, we’re good friends, but I want you to promise me that if I ever become an undead monster, you won’t let your guilt keep you from killing me.”
Vince let that remark glide on by. “So,” said Vince. “How much trouble are you in?”
“Grounded. Home, school, skating rink. Big Mel is a hunter, we’ve been in witness protection, and we never noticed. I’m expected to involve myself in activities more suited to my age, and…”
“Yes?”
I inhaled. “They don’t want me to hunt monsters, Vince. Even though they do.”
He already knew. “Yeah. I’ve always thought it would be more like that.”
“Heaven help me, Vince, if you give me a whiff of ‘I told you so,’ I’ll—”
“This,” said Vince, “is why your parents are worried, right Abby? Your first reaction is offensive or defensive.”
I could concede that point, but wouldn’t do it aloud. I would say something angry, and prove him right. “You’d think my parents would be more realistic. They hunt monsters. Monsters hunt us. Don’t we have to be ready?”
“Maybe Ned could help us be more ready. He did help us out.”
Again, another point I didn’t want to concede.
Vince studied the cracked sidewalk. “I don’t want to be a monster hunter.”
There went my sidekick. Since he had cut me slack in the diner last night, I decided that I would not comment. “You don’t want to. I’m not allowed to. This whole thing blows chunks.” I stood up and dusted the front step off my pants.
I left my backpack in the hall as a diplomatic maneuver. The Coopers’ house always smelled like wet German Shepherd. “Hello,” I said as I entered the living room. In order not to frighten the parental specimens, I said it in the same tone you might use when talking a cat out of a tree.
Mr. and Mrs. Cooper sat on the couch across from Dad, who leaned toward them over toward the coffee table. Silence hung in the air, oppressive, like a breaking summer storm. I let the thunder rumble. “Hey. I just want you to know this was my idea. Not Vince’s.”
A muscle along Mrs. Cooper’s jaw tightened. “I told Charlie that he needed to get rid of those letters.”
“They were on the top shelf of the hall closet,” said Mr. Cooper. “He shouldn’t have found them.”
Adults thinking that kids were less resourceful than we are. Oh, the lies they tell themselves.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous what you did was?” said Mrs. Cooper. She was talking to Mr. Cooper, not me.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “Vince is okay. Ned’s okay. We won’t do it again.”
Mrs. Cooper pronounced sentence on me. “I’m not sure you and Vince should be friends any more.”
“Nicole!” I appreciated Mr. Cooper’s protest.
“I understand your feelings,” said Dad. “There’s a lot of blame to go around. I hope you will give Abby a second chance. We will be making some changes.”
“Really?” Mr. Cooper asked.
“Yup. I’m going to be learning how to have compassion and be a normal kid!” I swung my fist across my body, all gung ho. “No more monster hunting for me!”
Dad stood up. “Abby’s mother and I will answer for any misconduct.”
“I don’t know...” said Mrs. Cooper.
I forced a broad smile. “Oh yeah,” I said. “Nothing to worry about here. Just us ordinary girls.”
Dad’s look would have leveled a city block. “As Abby says. Her short and brief career is over.”
“How about I come to the roller rink with you tonight,” Mrs. Cooper said, “just to be sure everyone’s safe?”
I nodded. “I promise I won’t get Vince into any trouble, or let Vince get into any trouble. You won’t be sorry.”
Vince met Dad and me in the hall. He’d obviously been listening. The wet German Shepherd, Tralfaz, bumped his nuzzle into my hand. At least he still liked me. “That went well,” Vince said.
“Handle your parents with care,” said Dad. “They need a little care right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
I chewed my lower lip. Vince looked better than me in front of my dad. Perfect old Vince. Psychotic old Abby. Tralfaz licked my hand. Trusty old Tralfaz.
CHAPTER FOUR
Roller Rink of the Damned
Big Mel’s Skateway in Glendale was the preferred Saturday night destination. If you were a happening middle schooler, you would see or be seen there. It was one of the few places in the universe where my Wolcroft life met my friends-with-Vince life. I mentioned earlier that I go to an all girls school. It’s a myth that girls who go to all girls school don’t know boys. I know boys. I can’t see what all the fuss is about, but I can identify one in a lineup.
Mrs. Cooper gave us our space once we got there. She hooked up with the other escorts on the sidelines of the rink close to the snack bar. That was good. I was expecting hovering and the evil eye. I was sure I was getting the evil eye anyway, but from a distance I could pretend things were more normal.
Vince pulled out his sneaker skates and took off his shoes. “Should we ask Big Mel about the whole monster hunting thing?”
“Are you trying to get us grounded for life?” I tied my laces. “Honestly, Vince, I have to appear to be less interested in all this.”
“Appear to be?”
What could I tell Vince? That I didn’t see that we’d done anything too wrong? I’ll admit my desire to impress had made me a little sloppy in finding out more about what we were walking into with Ned, and I will also admit that perhaps, just perhaps, there are exceptions to the slay-all-monsters-before-they-slay-you rule. But, darn it, I still wanted to be a monster hunter! If the only way I could pull that off was playing this game of Mom and D
ad’s for a bit, I wasn’t going to blow it. The only way out was through. Adults. They hold all the cards.
“Be a normal kid. Stay out of trouble. Go skate,” I said.
“Don’t boss me around,” said Vince.
“I’m looking after you. I promised your mom I would keep you out of trouble. Don’t make my job harder.”
“Like I’m the one who needs looking after,” said Vince under his breath. He skated away.
“I heard that.” Good grief. It had been a trying day.
The skaters moved out to the floor in various states of expertise. I recognized the skate music: Locomotion by Grand Funk Railroad. Mr. Cooper says that every roller skating rink everywhere plays Locomotion, even when he was a boy in ancient times.
I saw a friend who was in need of my aid, fast. Marty went to school with me at Wolcroft. People liked to pick on Marty because she took everything to heart. When I started at Wolcroft in the fourth grade, I stopped it. Marty was brilliant, like every other girl at Wolcroft, but she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to social stuff. At the same time, it wasn’t cool how the other girls teased her.
Marty stood at the guardrail, except she wasn’t looking cool. I planned to keep working on her about skate lessons.
I realized I should focus on my relationship with Marty to impress my parents. Marty knew nothing of the fringes of society where monsters lurked. She was much too nice for the world of ruthless monsters. Marty was interested in hair and makeup. Instant thirteen-year-old pursuits! Take that, parents! Normal girl problems solved.
Eeuw.
I skated up to her. “Hey, Marty.”
“Hey, Abs.”
That was an eye roller, to be sure, but I didn’t want to shatter Marty’s fragile self-esteem.
“Good weekend?”
“Mmmhmm.”
Vince skated over to us. Marty startled and almost fell. Vince righted her.
“Thanks,” Marty said. Her eyes were full of Vince crush and gratitude.
“No problemo,” said Vince. “Let’s skate.”
I knew the crush was coming. We were in seventh grade, after all, and some of our classmates had hinted that outside of school, they hung out with boys. In seventh grade, relationships, from all I could see, were about your parents driving you to, say the roller rink, so you could pretend to be involved with a boy or girl, have a squabble, text all your friends, get over yourself, and go back to the boy or girl. There were some forward girls who said that there was something really cool about boys and kissing, but I couldn’t see it.
Abigail Rath Versus Bloodsucking Fiends Page 4