No way was I going to be interested in anyone. I was going to have a career killing monsters all over the world. When they needed it. I was sure I could get my parents to come round.
“We’ll catch up in a sec,” I said. Vince wheeled away to a couple of his school buddies. I shook my head at Marty. “You do not want to have a crush on Vince.”
“You’re not...”
I waved my hands. “Oh no! I mean, me and Vince? No. I’m not about to restrict my freedom like that. With anyone. I have a career to consider.”
“Well, okay.” Her brown eyes twinkled as the lights dimmed and the disco ball lowered from the ceiling. “So why not Vince?”
I couldn’t tell her that he was the target of a blood thirsty, stunted teen I hadn’t decided should live or die yet, regardless of what my parents might think. “Um, Vince is not what he seems.” That was lame. I wondered why all those actors in Dad’s films could say the right thing at the right time. Oh yeah. Scripts again.
“Why? Does he have a girlfriend?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then what’s wrong with him?”
“Well, he’s just...look. It’s just a bad idea. What about that Kevin guy from last month?”
Marty shook her head. “No. I’ve outgrown him.”
“You’re gonna have to trust me on this one. Let’s go.”
I skated ahead of Marty. She pulled herself along the rail, then pulled on the carpet by the wall, fingers digging in like a cat’s claws when kitty didn’t want a bath. It was going to be hard work for her. I’d offer to help her around, but speed scared her. I rolled by a slender redhead, her hair pulled away from her forehead, making her face glow a bit like the moon under the black lights. She smiled at me. Being friendly, I smiled back, and I crossed one skate over the other as I curved around the end of the rink. She did a tricky little thing with her feet and skated backwards on one foot. I gave her a thumbs-up. I could do that, but there were rules about horseplay, and I didn’t want Big Mel upset at me.
I circled two more times. Vince caught up, and I grabbed his elbow to keep him with me. “Marty has made it around once,” I said. “We should stop, get her a drink.”
Vince nodded. He was pretty good at being a gentleman. “I’ll see if Todd or Jaime wants a break.” He rolled away to talk to his friends while I caught up with Marty. “You want something to drink?” I said over the wheels and music.
Marty planted her hands on the carpeted walls and pulled herself to a stop, cramming her fingers into the shag carpet. “Cheeseburger.” She puffed with her effort. “No supper yet.”
“Let’s go.” Marty let me give her a gentle tow to the guardrail. From there she could do kind of a tippy toes on her skate stops over to the linoleum of the snack area.
“Cheeseburger?” I affirmed, moving her toward a plastic shell chair. Big Mel hadn’t changed the furniture since 1997 or something, and now everyone in Glendale thought he had the old stuff on purpose.
“Ketchup and mustard.”
I breezed my way over to the snack area, and watched Marty ease into a plastic chair, my back against the counter. “Cheeseburger, please. With fries.”
“Coming right up.”
That voice! I whirled. Ned was dressed in a flannel shirt, t-shirt and jeans, wearing a hair net. I leaped backwards, skate stops checking my motion. “What are you doing here?”
Ned dug his finger into his cheek. “Gee. I wonder how Ned the vampire pays his rent.”
“I’ve never seen you here before. I come here all the time. You’re here for Vince! And maybe his mom.”
“Wrong,” said Ned. “You’ve seen me here before. You just never knew who I was before.”
Oh. He did look like a generic guy with the hairnet on. One, Ned. Abby, zip.
“You said we would never see you again,” I countered. “Well, you’ll just have to quit your job now.”
“I can’t quit, Abigail Rath. Like I said, I’ve got to pay my rent. It’s hard to get a job when you’re dead. Besides,” Ned was a little sheepish, “I have permission.”
Mr. Christopher had always made the undead life look easy. I assumed that all vampires had built up a secret treasure somewhere. That’s the way it was in the movies. Maybe Ned was different. “You did only die about twenty years ago. Guess you could be short on cash.”
“And I dropped out of school.”
“That was a loser move. You could still get your GED at night school. You could go to college. Why don’t you go to college?”
Ned’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“Shut up, Ned. I don’t care. I’m telling you to clear out, or you’ll be sorry.”
“Maybe you’ll be sorry,” said Ned. “I was employee of the month in January. We have the right to refuse service
to anyone.”
Touché. “Does Mel know you’re a vampire?”
Ned laughed, a deep belly laugh that carried over to where Vince was chatting with Marty and the guys. Vince squinted at me. I nodded. Vince excused himself and skated over.
“Hey Ned.”
“Hey Vince.”
“What are you doing here?”
“He says he works here.”
“I wouldn’t wear this hairnet as a fashion statement.”
“Oh,” said Vince. “You know, my mom’s here.”
“Yeah. I pegged her over there, behind the romance cover. Still likes the same kinds of books, I see.”
Vince shrugged. “Mom taste. You really work here?”
“Yup.”
“That explains the magazine,” said Vince.
“I find this too coincidental to believe you,” I said.
“I was going to leave you alone,” said Ned. “Now, I think you might need looking after.”
My mouth dropped open, then I found my voice again. Even the eternal teenager was in on the adult conspiracy. “That is so not true.”
“So, Vince, can I get you anything? A burger? Some pizza rolls? On the house?”
“Watch out, Vince. He’s trying to seduce you to the dark side with free sandwiches.”
“I think Marty wants you,” said Vince.
I was torn. Keeping Vince out of trouble didn’t mean leaving him with Ned. “Who gave you permission to be here?” I asked.
“Big Mel. And the area’s head vampire.” Ned crossed his arms and curled a lip. “And your dad.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“Abby?” Vince repeated.
“Think, Vince,” I said. “We’re supposed to be getting all normal. Do we really need a vampire to serve us snacks?”
“It’s true!” Ned dusted the counter off with a napkin. “Your dad was grateful. Also, he wants me to make sure you don’t get into any supernatural trouble.”
Vince tugged at my arm. “Marty?”
“All right, but don’t eat anything until I get back.” I skated backwards toward the table, pointing two fingers at my eyes, and then back at Ned. I turned around just in time to make sure I didn’t smash into the chair behind me.
Marty’s legs poked out like sticks in that pick up sticks game. She was fiddling with the laces on her skates. “I’m not going to skate anymore,” she said. “I’m tired of falling down.”
“Okay. You can keep an eye on Ned.”
“Who?”
“The guy at the sandwich counter.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Make sure he puts the right condiments on your sandwich,” I said. “Did you want something?”
“Yeah. I wondered if you could ask Vince...”
Here we go. The I-can’t-talk-to-your-friend-that-I-like-but-you-can-act-as-my-go-between-because-you’ve-known-him-since-you-were-in-diapers kind of thing. I hear this kind of thing happen at the mall all the time, but this was not the kind of thing that I wanted to get involved in.
“...if he knows who that guy is,” said Marty.
The conversation had taken a pe
culiar turn. My head swiveled toward the rink. “Who?”
There was a guy gliding in the center of the rink in the middle of a circle the skaters had cleared for him. His hair was stylishly shaggy in a pop idol sort of way. He was tall, not too tall, and pretty trim.
“He’s sparkling,” said Marty. Her eyes were wide, like an anime girl’s, or a bad puppy painting.
“Yeah, he is,” I said.
“Just like Austin Von Trapp,” Marty sighed.
Austin Von Trapp, for those of you who aren’t a girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen, and are not aware of the nation sweeping phenomena, is the hero of a popular series of novels, Dusk. Dusk is the captivating, yet mushy, story of a girl who is caught in a love triangle between Austin Von Trapp, a stalkery vampire who breaks every rule of vampire behavior. He’s out in the daylight, and he doesn’t turn all corpsy under the right circumstances. For all intents and purposes, he could be a superhero or an elf or something.
The other point of the triangle is Duke No Last Name, who is an indigenous werewolf named after John Wayne, whoever he was. My dad says that’s ironic. I say whatever. Duke never eats raw meat and doesn’t get blood on his maw. He’s never out of control. He always runs around with his shirt off.
This kind of fiction is entirely irresponsible. It gives girls the wrong view of what monsters are like. They are scary, horrible, nasty creatures who would rather eat you than date you. I sometimes wonder if monsters are putting these books out to get a free meal. Because frankly, that’s what’s happening.
I don’t think too much of the intelligence level of the average kid my age if they buy this stuff. I mean the information to counter it is out there. Anyone can watch my dad’s movies, or anyone can read back issues of Fangoria or Famous Monsters of Film Land, which are two of the finest magazines for people who want to be alert to the supernatural world.
“He is kind of sparkling,” I said. “I wonder why.”
Vince came up behind me and poked my shoulder. He pointed at the disco ball.
“Oh,” I said. Disco clarified everything. Except his name. “Who is that?”
“William. He’s new. Been here about a week.”
“Don’t you find him suspicious?” I asked Vince.
“Oh, Abby, what?” Vince’s hands grasped at the air around him.
“I’m just saying Ned’s here, this William guy sparkles…”
“Just like Austin Von Trapp,” said Marty. “Spooky!”
Was Marty making fun of me? Oh well. She didn’t usually get the chance. I could be the butt.
“See? Even Marty thinks you’re weird.”
Since Marty didn’t know about the shadow realms in which we patrolled, I kept my retort low key. “Tell me about William.” Across the way, Ned was putting ketchup in little paper cups, which I thought might be symbolic.
“He’s not the kind of guy I hang out with,” said Vince. “Spends too much time on his hair.”
“He’s a good skater,” said Marty.
He was that and he was...kind of good looking.
I left Vince and Marty, drifting onto the reflective concrete among polka dots of light. My skates glided in one circle around the crowd, and then I elbowed my way through. William was helping a girl I didn’t know do an arabesque. She looked like she was enjoying the big Ghirardelli fudge sundae, she was so happy. He looked cool, collected, and still sparkly.
He released her back into the crowd, and held his hand out to me. I did two turns on the way over. Because I took lessons, and I figured hey, if Big Mel were watching, he should see his teaching had paid off.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.”
So far, super eloquent. “I’m Abby.”
“William. You’re good.”
“Yes, I am.” I smiled. Suave, right? That’s me. “My friend Vince tells me you’re new at his school.”
“Yes.” We were skating along like a couple at the Ice Capades. His laugh was delicious and I took his hands. Immediately, I found my own behavior suspect. I was joking with Vince before, about the sparkle thing, but William was charming. Too charming.
“Did you know you sparkle? Just like Austin Von Trapp?”
“Is that silly or what? Real vampires don’t sparkle.”
Nope, I thought. They work behind sandwich counters and serve fries. Over at the bench of parents, Ned was talking to Vince’s mom. No sign of Vince anywhere, which meant I’d best intervene. “Um—nice talking to you,” I said. I wanted to find out more about William, but Ned had to be dealt with. I moved off the floor into the snack bar. I wondered how William knew about sparkling vampires, but when I looked briefly over my shoulder, he had disappeared back into the crowd.
I glanced around. Two skaters were enjoying a plate of pizza rolls. I snatched them up and glided over. “Get back, Ned! Get away!”
“Abby,” said Mrs. Cooper, “Ned isn’t going to hurt me.”
“Not at work,” Ned said with a wink.
Mrs. Cooper laughed.
I brandished the platter. “Get back, creature of the night!”
“What on earth?” Mrs. Cooper leaned away from the plate.
“Bambino’s pizza rolls. Full of garlic!”
Ned laughed. “I gotta get you the package. Be right back.” He wandered back to the kitchen.
“Are you okay?”
“Just fine,” Mrs. Cooper said. “Look, he’s a vampire, yes. But he’s Ned.”
This was too much for me to ignore, even though I was trying to behave. “Mrs. Cooper, how come you’re mad at me, but you’re willing to talk to Ned?”
“Ned is my friend.”
“Was your friend.”
“It’s not like I’m inviting him home. You do have to invite a vampire into your house, right? For them to attack you?”
“Inaccurate.” No figuring Mrs. Cooper. First, she didn’t want Vince to hang out with me. Then she practically sticks her neck out for Ned. I made a mental note to talk to my dad about those crazy, crazy Coopers, determined to get themselves on Ned’s dinner menu. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous for Vince to be around Ned?”
“I think it’s more dangerous for Vince to be in Skid Row downtown after the sun sets. You were lucky Ned was around.”
“I had it under control.”
“You had it under control? You’re still a kid.”
“Yeah? Well, Ned’s only three years older than me.”
“Abby, I don’t want you or Vince to end up like Ned. If you do stupid stuff like you did yesterday, you might.”
That was the first thing she said that made any sense to me. Of course, I didn’t want to end up like Ned either. “Just…make sure when you see Ned, you’re in a public place. And don’t let him whammy you.”
Ned came out of the kitchen and pointed to the phrase, “artificial garlic flavoring.” I was betrayed by the American fast food industry.
The lights came up. Big Mel’s voice staticked from the wall speakers. “Hey everybody! Let’s limbo!”
There was a crackle of steel drum notes. I caught Vince’s eye and he nodded. He had his eye on Ned and his mom. Besides, he wasn’t flexible enough to limbo. I dropped the pizza rolls back with their owners, and I rolled onto the floor.
I’m not saying that I’m a limbo expert or anything. Yes, I was having a seven-week winning streak, and I made a favorable showing, but the truth of the matter is that the limbo contest usually goes to the shortest and the scrunchiest. Little kids often won, and that’s cool, but since I was good at folding myself into little spaces, I was competitive under the limbo bars.
Big Mel joined us on the floor of the rink. When a man’s tall like a skyscraper and wide like a circus strongman, it’s not a stretch to call him Big Mel. His voice had the same showman’s flair as a ringmaster’s did, and in spite of the fact that he had muscles on his muscles, he was graceful on skates. I’d never seen Mel fall down. The man, the myth, the legend.
What added to the legend
was the silver bat, which after my parents’ revelation this morning, I understood better than before. I used to think it was aluminum, but since he was a member of the monster hunting fraternity, I would suppose there was silver in there somewhere. Werewolf shows up to skate? Bam! Home run time!
I wondered how Mel had got into the business. A better question was how he had learned to roller skate and why. And how did he know my parents? And where was Mrs. Mel? Had there ever been a Mrs. Mel? These questions hadn’t mattered much before, but now there was a window into Mel that I was interested in looking through.
All of these were questions for the future. Vince and I would ask when we were back in our parents’ good graces, or when they weren’t around.
“Line up,” Mel said. “Line up for limbo.” He clicked the cordless mike into its stand. “Kids, clear off the floor, except for limbo contestants.”
There were twelve of us, including New Redhead, who had skated by me earlier. I thought she’d be too tall to be
any good.
“I’m Coral,” she said. Her smile looked like her parents had invested in it.
“Hi. I’m Abby.”
“Good luck.”
Obviously she didn’t know that I had skill on my side, but I thanked her. The contest began. Pretty much everyone made it under the first bar when it was set at the first notch. The first notch hardly takes anyone out. We lost our first contestant, a tiny little second grader, at the third notch when he lost balance and fell on his butt.
By the time you get to the fourth notch, generally you can tell the Hills from the Valley, as my mother might say. The fourth notch whittled it down to me, Coral, and another guy from Vince’s school who I used to know the name of.
The music echoed and the rink’s attention sank like claws into each skater. As I ducked my head under notch five, Mel upped the ante. “Abby Rath! How low can she go? Will she win this week’s limbo, making eight weeks running?”
Abigail Rath Versus Bloodsucking Fiends Page 5