My Favorite Fangs: The Story of the Von Trapp Family Vampires

by Alan Goldsher

  Hearing the commotion, Friedrich and Kurt wandered over. Friedrich asked, “What happened here?”

  Louisa told him, “Father and the Baroness are getting married.”

  “Oh,” Friedrich said, then, unmoving and unblinking, stared at the Baroness. She met the boy’s gaze, but could only hold it for a few seconds.

  She surveyed the brats—all were staring at her, unmoving and unblinking. “So,” she said almost nervously, “how does a girl go about getting some welcome-to-the-family hugs around here?”

  In unison, the von Trapp children hissed at the Succubus, turned on their heels, and walked down the driveway and out the front gate.

  After they were out of sight, the Captain turned to Elsa and Max, and said, “Well, I think that went smashingly. Who wants a drink?” And then he passed out.

  CHAPTER 8

  IN THE MIDST of putting together a Power Point presentation to use as a recruitment tool, Mother Zombie was jolted from her reverie by a sharp noise from the Abbey’s entrance. Irked, she began a long shuffle to the Abbey’s front gate; when she finally arrived some thirty minutes later, the Abbey’s overseer asked Zombie Sister Cinnamon, “What was all the brouhaha?”

  “Well, these seven brats—actually, it was six brats, and one pompous, snotty, pretentious girl twerp—wanted to visit everybody’s favorite flibbertijibbet.”

  “Speaking of which,” Mother Zombie said, “Bring her to me.”

  Thirty-six minutes later, Maria was sitting in front of Mother Zombie’s desk, wearing her favorite black cat suit, rubbing her head. “Mother, why did Cinnamon pull me in here by my roots? All she had to do was tell me you had summoned me and I’d have rushed over. What’s it with you Zombies and all the unnecessary violence?”

  “Never mind that. Tell me why you have returned. If it’s for a good reason, I shall let you stay. If it’s for a bad reason, well, there are plenty of families looking for Governesses. Why were you brought back to us?”

  “I wasn’t brought back, Mother Zombie. I left of my own accord.”

  “Why?”

  “I was scared.”

  “You? Scared?! You’re a Vampire! What do you have to fear, except for a stake to the heart?”

  Maria said, “I don’t know how many times this has to be reiterated to the reader, but this stake to the heart business is malarkey. Everybody knows the only thing that can kill a Vampire is…”

  No longer laughing, Mother Zombie said, “Shh. I hate Vampires as much as the next Zombie does, but if the world finds out how easy it is to stop you, your kind will be extinct in a matter of weeks … and that will end Stephenie Meyer’s career before it even starts.”

  “Who’s Stephenie Meyer? And why does she spell Stephanie as Stephenie?”

  “Never mind. Tell me what you were frightened of.”

  “Fright is not the right word, per se. Maybe confusion. Mixed with nervousness. Combined with alarm. With a touch of exhaustion. Not to mention the boredom. And a smidgen of back pain. I also somehow caught a case of the crabs. So I needed to be away from all of that; thus, here I am.”

  “Maria, our Abbey isn’t a place that Vampires can use as an escape from their problems.”

  “Well, it should be,” she pouted.

  “Well it isn’t. So you’ll have to face them again.”

  “No! I can’t face him. I mean, them. I can’t face them.”

  “Him, who?”

  “Him, nobody.”

  “Him, who?!”

  “Him, Captain von Trapp,” Maria sighed.

  Mother Zombie made a face. “Are you in love with him or something?” She snorted. “In love with Georg von Trapp. Ridiculous.”

  “Sometimes when I looked at his red cheeks, his bloodshot eyes, and the tiny veins on his nose, I’d get fluttery. Does that equal love? I have no idea.” She paused, then said, “The Baroness said I loved him.”

  At that, Mother Zombie perked up. “Which Baroness?”

  “Elsa Schrader.”

  “Schrader, Schrader, Schrader, hmmm…” After a thoughtful minute, Mother Zombie opened up her bottom desk drawer and removed a dusty, musty oversized book. She wiped the dirt from the cover and riffled through the pages, stopping about three-quarters of the way through, then moved her finger down the page and said, “Ah, here we are. Elsa Schrader, Succubus, born in the year 913, stopped aging at thirty, can cloud the minds of men and women alike, best known for her temper, her jealousy, and—and this is a direct quote—her awesome rack.”

  Maria nodded. “That’s her, alright.”

  “Did you tell Captain von Trapp about your feelings for him?” Mother Zombie asked.

  “Not purposely. We had one moment where … where … where something happened. We were dancing, he held me close, and there was a look in his eye … but that might have been the booze.”

  “More importantly,” Mother Zombie said, “did you let Baroness Schrader see how you felt?”

  “She could tell. She knew. It was she who made me go. She clouded my mind, just like the book said. I’m mortified to return, so I want to stay here. I’ll follow Zombie Law. No more leaving the Abbey without your consent. No more singing in the mountains. No more turning into a bat and sneaking into your chambers and watching you touch your rancid lady-parts…”

  “What?!”

  “A joke. Just know that Maria shall not be a problem.”

  Mother Zombie stood up and paced the room. “Maria,” she said, “the love of a man and a woman is holy, too, even if the man is weak, and the woman is a filthy Vampire. You have an enormous trove of love, and you must find out how the Devil wants you to spend your life.”

  “My life is now pledged to Zombie Law. The love of another is no longer an option.”

  “Maria, if you love this man, it doesn’t mean you have to ignore Zombie Law. Go back to the von Trapp mansion. Find out one way or the other.”

  “Oh, Mother Zombie, please, let me stay,” she begged. “I’ll do anything!”

  “Will you burp Foxxxy?”

  “Of course!”

  “Will you clean Foxxxy’s daily discharge?”

  “Yes!”

  “Will you clean Foxxxy’s nightly discharge?”

  Maria gulped, then, with considerably less enthusiasm, said, “Yes.”

  “Will you change Foxxxy’s diapers?”

  Maria gagged a little bit, then said, “I guess.”

  Mother Zombie shook her head. “I’m not sure about this, Vampire. Changing Foxxxy’s diapers isn’t how you climb every mountain. Dealing with Foxxxy’s discharge floor clean isn’t how you follow every byway. Burping Foxxxy isn’t how you ford every stream…”

  “What’s fording a stream, Mother?”

  “No clue. Ask Hammerstein. Anyhow, do you get my point?”

  Maria said, “Are you trying to say that if I want to find my dream, if I want to give all the love I can give, if I want to search high and low for happiness, I have to…”

  “You have to leave.”

  “I was going to say follow my heart.”

  “Right. That too. But more importantly, leave.”

  “I suppose I could go and…”

  Zombie Sisters Brandi, Jazzmine, and Cinnamon burst into the room. Brandi hurled a suitcase at Maria—Maria ducked, and it hit Mother Zombie smack in the face, knocking her onto her hindquarters—then said, “Leaving so soon? We packed your belongings.”

  Jazzmine said, “Do you remember where the front gate is? I shall show you, so you won’t get lost.” She handed Maria her saxophone case.

  Cinnamon said, “There’s a carriage waiting to take you back to the von Trapps. So you get out there and climb every mountain, Maria!”

  Mother Zombie pulled herself up from the floor and said, “It’s probably best for you to waltz your way out of here, Vampire, because no matter how hard you try, and no matter how good your intentions are, nobody causes a problem like you.”

  Several hours after the Zombies foisted
Maria out onto the street, the von Trapp brood arrived home from the Abbey, where they were greeted by their Father. “So,” he said, clutching a lager in his right hand, and a tumbler of gin in his left, “the prodigals return. Care to tell me where you disappeared to? I announce my engagement, and you take your leave without so much as a congratulations.” He checked his watch. “Also, you’re tardy for supper.”

  Friedrich pointed at the Captain’s lager. “Looks like you went and started without us.”

  Ignoring his eldest son, the Captain said, “Which one of you is going to be the first one to tell me where you were? Brigitta?”

  Brigitta said, “As if.”

  “Louisa?”

  “No way, Jose,” Louisa said.

  “Friedrich?”

  “Give me some of that gin, and we can discuss it.”

  Liesl said, “Where do you think we were, Father?”

  “Rolling drunks?” the Captain guessed.

  Kurt said, “Rolling drunks is so last year. We’re Vampires now, Father, and Vampires are far too elegant and classy to roll drunks.” He paused. “We prefer to feast on the weak of mind and heart. Like I said, elegant and classy.”

  “So is that where you were? Feasting on the weak of mind and heart?”

  Farta said, “Well, that wasn’t our primary objective…”

  “… but we got hungry, so it happened anyhow,” Kurt said.

  “Very well,” the Captain said. “Since you have obviously stuffed yourselves full of millions of blood corpuscles, you can’t be hungry anymore, so I’ll just have to tell Frau Alice to dispose of your dinners.”

  Kurt said, “Schiessen. I’m still hungry.”

  “Of course you are,” Liesl said.

  The Captain said, “Ta ta, brats,” and traipsed into the house.

  “Schiessen,” Kurt repeated. “We should have told.”

  “He would have killed us,” Farta said.

  “He can’t kill us, silly,” Louisa said. “We’re already dead.”

  “But he can starve us to death,” Kurt said. “I feel horrible. And hungry.”

  Brigitta said, “Remember Fraulein Maria’s ridiculous list of things that are supposed to make us feel better when we’re feeling blue?”

  Liesl said, “Mein Gott, I almost forgot all about that. Brown paper packages? Hah!”

  Friedrich said, “That was bad, but the worst was bright copper kettles. And she was so specific about it: Not just kettles, but bright copper ones. Dull black ones won’t make you feel better, but bright copper ones will.”

  “What about blue satin sashes?” Farta asked. “There’s nothing, but nothing you can do with a sash that will make you feel better … except maybe choke the Baroness.”

  At that, the children laughed, but a call from the end of the driveway quickly interrupted their merriment: “Kettles and sashes are wonderful, wonderful items, and if they don’t make you happy, well, you don’t know what happy is!”

  The children turned around, and were greeted by the sight of a woman, an exquisite woman with glossy brown hair, piercing brown eyes, and alabaster skin. The woman was wearing a tighter-than-tight cat suit, and wasn’t the least bit ashamed … but why should she have been, for you see, her body was perfect: muscular arms, a graceful neck, firm breasts, a flat stomach, and strong thighs—the kind of flawless form that many a mortal would kill for.

  Let’s not forget her fangs.

  The children ran to their Governess/creator, arms opened wide, the sun reflecting off of their bared teeth. Maria dropped her suitcase and saxophone, and fell into the brats’ embrace. After the hug ran its course, Maria said, “Someday, kids, someday you’ll understand the joy of brown paper packages.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Liesl said, “but it’s lovely to have you back.”

  “Lovely to be back. What did I miss?”

  Brigitta said, “Nothing big … unless you think that Father and the Baroness getting married is big.”

  “Oh,” Maria said. “Wow. Gone from the mansion for only twenty-ish pages, and look what happens.”

  Just then, Georg von Trapp walked out onto the porch. Louisa, seeing her Father, waved and jumped up and down, up and down, up and down. “Father,” she cried, “Father, look who has returned!”

  The Captain walked over, staggering only a little. He nodded at the Vampire, then somberly said, “Maria.”

  She nodded back. “Captain.”

  “You’re looking well.”

  “As are you.”

  Without taking his eye from hers, the Captain said, “Kids, go in and eat your supper.”

  Beaming, Kurt said, “I thought Frau Alice threw it out!” and then turned into a bat and flew into the house.

  Giving his chunky brother an exasperated look, Friedrich said, “We’re staying right here, Father. This is unmissable stuff.”

  Liesl said, “However, we’ll leave if you two get naked.”

  “Nobody’s getting naked,” the Captain said.

  Maria mumbled, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Then she told the children, “Go inside, brats. Immediately. Thank you.”

  In unison, they said, “Yes, Governess.”

  After the kids were in the house, the Captain said, “You’re looking well.”

  “Yes,” Maria said, “you mentioned that.”

  “Ah. Right, then. So. Well. Um. So. Um. Well…”

  “Spit it out, Captain.”

  “You left without so much as a goodbye to me or the children, and I don’t care if you’re a Vampire, or a Werewolf, or a Blob, but delivering that sort of news with a note is flat-out rude behavior, and I don’t abide by rudeness!”

  “Ah. Right. Well, you might want to talk to your fiancée about the way I left.”

  “Oh. Fiancée. You know about that.”

  “I know about that,” Maria agreed.

  “Why should I ask Elsa about?…”

  “Ask Elsa about what?” asked Elsa, who had slipped into the yard undetected.

  “Nothing, darling. As you can see, Maria has returned.”

  The Succubus glared at the Vampire. “I see. How wonderful. How delightfully droll.” She asked Maria, “So are you here to stay, or did you just pop by for a visit?”

  “That’s yet to be decided.”

  The Baroness took a step toward Maria. “And how will it be decided?”

  Maria took a step toward the Baroness. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  The Baroness took another step toward Maria. “Have you decided when you’re going to decide? Because I can help you make your decision.”

  Maria took another step toward the Baroness; their noses were practically touching. “How would you decide to help me make my decision?”

  The Baroness took yet another step toward Maria; their mouths lightly grazed. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  The Captain took the Baroness by her elbow and said, “Alright, darling, let’s get you inside.” As he tugged his fiancée toward the house, he said, “Welcome back, Governess.”

  “Lovely to be back, Captain. Lovely to be back, indeed.”

  Knocked for a loop by Maria’s reemergence, Captain von Trapp passed on his usual dinner cocktails in favor of a smoothie, so by the time ten o’clock approached, he was stone sober. Hmm, he thought, this nighttime sobriety isn’t all that horrible, as he stood on the balcony outside of his bedroom, watching Maria watch the lake. My goodness, that’s one good-looking bloodsucker. I never imagined I’d be attracted to a being who could kill me without a second thought. I wonder what making love to a killer would be like. It might be like making love to a Nazi. Not that I’ve ever thought about making love to a Nazi. I’m just saying.

  He briefly pictured Maria in a skintight S.S. uniform, and his imagination might have taken him a couple steps farther down a road best left unexplored had the Baroness not burst into the room. “Darling,” she breathed, “I think you should turn around.”

  Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from
Maria’s pale form and was greeted by a sight that would have melted many a mortal man’s mind: Elsa was wearing a gauzy red negligee that hugged her upper body, flowed over her waist, and ended just above her knees. Her breasts peeked over the décolletage, almost as if they were shy, which they most definitely were not, as witnessed by the erectness of their nipples. Her feet were encased in a pair of shoes that were all points—pointy toe, pointy heel, pointy bottom, pointy top—and shaped her legs perfectly. As for the Baroness’s hair, it was ironed flat, and hung down to the small of her back, and, in the candlelight, resembled spun gold. Her face was flawless and her eyes glowed a mellow shade of red.

  As did her lady-parts.

  She asked the Captain, “Do you like my new outfit, Georg? I put it together just for you.”

  Having seen this sort of display dozens and dozens of times over the last year, the Captain wasn’t quite as impressed as one would expect … but he was still impressed. “It’s lovely, my dear.”

  “What’s your favorite part?” she asked, closing the distance between the two.

  He gave her a general, noncommittal gesture and said, “I guess the thing over by the thing next to the thing.”

  “What thing, darling?” she pouted.

  “The whole thing,” he said, then snuck a peek over his shoulder and out the window.

  He heard the sound of thin fabric falling to the floor, then Elsa’s commanding voice: “Look at me, Georg. Look at me now.”

  After von Trapp turned around, he was careful to keep his eyes above her chin, because if he caught a glimpse of her naked body, his blood would vacate his brain and migrate to his man-parts, rendering him unable to do what he had to do. Their eyes remained locked for several minutes or several hours, during which point, Georg made a decision. “It isn’t you, it’s me,” he said. “I love you, but I’m not in love with you. I believe we would be better off being friends rather than lovers. You deserve better than me. I need to love myself before I can love somebody else. I’m so enamored with you that it scares me. I love you like a sister…”