PETER AND THE VAMPIRES (Volume One) (PETER AND THE MONSTERS)

by Darren Pillsbury

  On cue, Beth stopped crying and watched the strange old man in quiet terror.

  In normal situations, Peter would be afraid to challenge his Grandfather about – well, about anything. But he had fought dead men and little girl vampires in the last four weeks, and that had given him a bit more confidence. Besides, the threat of babysitting Beth wasn’t a ‘normal’ situation.

  “Grandfather! Where’re you going?” Peter asked.

  Grandfather looked first at Beth, then Peter. “I have things to do in town,” he said brusquely.

  “Can’t they wait a couple of hours?” Peter begged.

  “NO.”

  “He just doesn’t want to babysit her, that’s all,” Dill announced.

  Grandfather stared at him.

  Dill tried to hid behind his ice cream sandwich. “Dude, I don’t blame you, man,” he said meekly.

  “Oh PLEASE, you all act like Beth is so difficult,” Mom said in exasperation. “She’s NOT.”

  Dill started snickering. “Yeah, right.”

  Grandfather pointed at Dill. “For once, I agree with the idjit.” Then he walked out of the house.

  “Mom – ”

  “Peter, I don’t have time to debate this with you! You’re going to be babysitting Beth for a couple of hours, and that’s final! Please? Thank you!” she said without waiting for a reply to the ‘please.’

  “HA haaaaa,” Dill repeated.

  “And you can help him, young man,” Mom snapped.

  “Me?!” Dill asked in surprise. “No. Unh-unh. No thanks.”

  Mom walked over and snatched the ice cream sandwich out of Dill’s hand just as he was about to take a bite.

  “HEY – !”

  “HA haaaaa,” Beth said, doing a pretty passable imitation of the SIMPSONS bully…for a two-and-a-half year-old, anyway.

  Mom flashed her dangerous, tight-lipped smile. “You come in my house, you eat my food, you annoy me to within an inch of my life, and you don’t want to do anything to help? Is that how it is?”

  Dill squinted as though in deep thought. “Well, technically it’s not your house, it’s the crazy old man’s…”

  “Dill!” Peter hissed, trying to hush him.

  “Fine. No more ice cream sandwiches. No more eating here. No more favors. No more nothing. Get out, Mr. Bodinski.”

  “Yeah, Mi-tuh Bo Inkies,” Beth said, full of self-satisfaction.

  Dill watched with great anxiety as Mom walked over towards the garbage can with the ice cream sandwich. It had already been licked, pressed, and formed into a delicious, chocolate-vanilla ravioli… and now it was about to go in the trash.

  Peter knew that Dill wouldn’t hesitate to eat it out of the trash can after Mom left, if that’s what it took. But he was also undoubtedly weighing the fate of every other ice cream sandwich that he might not get in the future. With four older brothers and sisters, ice cream sandwiches were a rare commodity in Dill’s house. They tended to get eaten very, very quickly.

  Dill pointed at the treat in her hand. “Can I…take that with me?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m throwing it away.”

  Then Mom delivered the death blow. She bypassed the garbage can…and headed straight for the trash disposal in the sink.

  “WAIT!” he shrieked, his eyes peeking out from behind his fingers. “Okay…if I help out Peter, can I…can I have that back?”

  Mom smiled evilly. “I guess.”

  “And I can still have other ice cream sandwiches?” Dill asked, defeated.

  “I suppose.”

  She handed back the ice cream sandwich ravioli. Dill let out a phew, and looked over at Peter. “She doesn’t fight fair, dude,” he whispered.

  “HA haaaa,” Beth roared again.

  “I don’t see what you’re ‘ha-ha-ing’ about,” Peter told her crossly. “That means we’re both gonna babysit you.”

  Beth stared down blankly at Peter, then Dill.

  Then she screamed.

  And screamed.

  And screamed some more.

  3

  Five minutes after Mom left, Beth was still screaming.

  “No ice cream sandwich is worth this,” Dill grumbled.

  “Let’s take her outside,” Peter suggested. “Maybe she won’t sound so loud out there.”

  They herded her out the kitchen door and into the backyard.

  Beth kept screaming.

  It had rained the night before and the grass was still damp. In addition, brown mushrooms had sprung up everywhere. Tiny ones the size of Peter’s thumbnail, big ones wider than his palm – there were literally hundreds of them throughout the meadow.

  Beth wasn’t the least bit interested in mushrooms. So she kept screaming.

  “Stop that!” Peter yelled back.

  She didn’t stop. In fact, she was starting to turn purple.

  “It’s too bad the hobos aren’t around anymore,” Dill mused. “We could just take her over to the garden and let them get rid of her.”

  “Dude, that’s messed up,” Peter scolded him.

  “Dude, she’s messed up.” Dill turned to Beth and shouted, “Shut up! We’re babysitting you! You gotta do what we say!”

  Beth stopped long enough to sneer. “Yeah, wight.” Then she started screaming again.

  “You didn’t really think that was going to work, did you?” Peter asked.

  “It worked for about five seconds,” Dill said defensively. “I don’t see you doing any better.”

  “If you stop screaming, I’ll give you an ice cream sandwich!” Peter told her.

  Didn’t help.

  “If you stop screaming, I’ll…I’ll…” Peter said, flailing about for a better reward.

  Dill yelled, “Hey, Beth – you know where the word ‘babysit’ comes from? It’s cuz when the baby was being bad, you sat on it! You’re being bad, so I’m gonna sit on YOU!”

  With that he started running backwards towards her, his butt in the air.

  Beth stopped screaming. She gritted her teeth, balled up her fists, and kicked Dill squarely in the rear end.

  “OW!” Dill yelled as he faceplanted in the wet grass. “EW!” he exclaimed as he wiped dewy pieces off his forehead.

  Beth started cackling.

  Peter laughed, too. “Hey, that was a pretty good plan.”

  “That wasn’t in my plan. She was supposed to run away,” Dill muttered angrily. “Not kick me.”

  Peter tried to contain his snickering. “Oh. Well, she’s laughing now.”

  “I’m supposed to be the one who’s laughing,” Dill seethed. “Not her. Not you…ME.”

  Peter looked over and saw that now, of course, Beth had developed a fascination with the toadstools. She had picked one from the grass and was examining it closely.

  “BETH!” he yelled. “Don’t touch that, it could be poisonous!”

  “Nunh-unh,” she said.

  “Uh-huh, mushrooms are poisonous!”

  “Why dey on pizza, den?”

  “Those are special mushrooms that aren’t poisonous. We don’t know about that one!”

  Beth looked dubious, and kept eyeing the mushroom as though she might eat it just to spite Peter. He wanted to walk over and slap it out of her hand, but he knew Beth: if he did that, she would run through the meadow and chow down on every mushroom she could grab.

  “You should just let her eat it,” Dill whispered. “If it actually is poisonous, it’ll take care of her faster than the hobos.”

  “Shut up, Dill,” Peter scowled.

  “Wha you sayin’ ovah dere?” Beth shouted.

  “I was just saying how you’re gonna get warts now,” Dill said matter-of-factly.

  Beth looked confused. “Wha?”

  Dill pointed at the mushroom in her hand. “Those give you warts. Even if you just touch ‘em. You better go wash your hands, or you’re gonna get warts out the wazoo.”

  Beth scrunched up her face. “Whassa wart?”

  “You know those hairy
bumps on witches’ noses?”

  She nodded.

  “That,” Dill emphasized. “You can get ‘em on your hands, on your tongue, all over your face – ”

  Beth wrinkled her nose, stuck out her tongue in disgust, and threw the mushroom as far away as she could.

  Peter looked back at Dill and grinned. “Good one.”

  “I know,” Dill said haughtily.

  Peter couldn’t let Dill’s head get that big without deflating him a little. “It’s nice that your plans go the right way sometimes.”

  “My plans always go the right way.”

  “So having Mercy pick you up and fly you back to her vampire hideout was part of your plan?”

  Dill looked momentarily panicked. “I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. Besides,” he sneered, “that was your plan, dummy. ‘Oh, oh, let’s save some girl we don’t even like! Oh, oh, pie tins stop vampire teeth!’”

  Peter grimaced, then went back on the offensive. “So Beth kicking your butt now was in your plan, too.”

  “Yyyyyes,” Dill said, slightly hesitating.

  “But you just said it wasn’t.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “Yes you did, just a minute ago.”

  “I just wanted you to think it wasn’t.”

  “Why?”

  Dill shrugged. “That was in my plan, too. I make you think whatever I want you to think.”

  “Right.”

  “See, I wanted you to say that. It’s in my plan.” Suddenly, Dill looked past Peter and got a puzzled look on his face. “Hey, where’d she go?”

  Peter wasn’t falling for it. “What, is that in your plan, so you can go, ‘Made you look’?”

  “No, dude, seriously – where’d she go?”

  From the sound of his voice, Peter could tell that Dill wasn’t kidding. He looked around, and sure enough, Beth was nowhere to be seen.

  Which was impossible. She’d only been 10 feet away…Grandfather’s house and Dill’s property were each over 200 feet away. They had only been ignoring her maybe 15 seconds at most. There was no way she could run that fast. And besides, they would have heard her…right?

  “Maybe she’s hiding,” Dill suggested.

  “I guess,” he agreed, though he wasn’t really convinced. Two weeks before, Mom had finally persuaded Grandfather to let her hire a lawn service to cut the grass. Instead of its customary waist-high length, the green blades now just came up to Peter’s shins. So Beth wasn’t hiding in the grass, and there was nowhere else except the garden, which was even farther away than the house. They would have seen her before she disappeared in between the rows of corn and tomato plants.

  Peter cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Beth!”

  “Behhhh-uthhh!” Dill called.

  “You go that way, I’ll go this way,” Peter suggested.

  He started to walk towards the house, calling out his sister’s name every few steps. His first feelings of shock and disbelief had now given way to fear. Peter had seen some very bad things in the past couple of weeks…but they had all happened at night. How could this be? It was the middle of the afternoon, in broad daylight – how could she just disappear?

  He turned back to Dill. “Hey, do you see any footpri – ”

  Before he got the entire sentence out, Peter stopped cold.

  4

  There she was right where they had last seen her, except now Beth was sitting on the ground with a placid look on her face.

  We walked right past her! We couldn’t have missed her…could we?

  But how?

  “Hey, Dill, there she is!”

  Dill turned around and literally staggered back in surprise. “How’d she get there?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know. Where’d you go, Beth?”

  Beth just shrugged.

  Peter walked over. She was sitting in the middle of a patch of lawn that was ringed by an almost perfect circle of mushrooms. And her Strawberry Shortcake bathing suit (not to mention her pants on underneath it) was getting soaked by the dewy grass.

  “Beth, get up, you’re getting wet!”

  She stood up without any sort of complaint and watched Peter with the same peaceful expression on her face.

  “Did you hide anywhere?” Peter asked.

  Beth shook her head ‘no.’

  “How’d you do that?” Dill asked.

  Beth frowned like, What do you mean?

  “How’d you hide from us?”

  Beth just shrugged again.

  “What are you, playing the quiet game?” Peter asked, getting annoyed now.

  “Dude, shhh, it’s better than the screaming game,” Dill warned.

  “Come on, we gotta get back in the house…your pants are soaking wet.”

  Beth stepped out of the circle of mushrooms and started walking towards the house. Peter and Dill followed behind her.

  “This is weird,” Dill whispered.

  “I know,” Peter agreed quietly. “Where’d she go when she disappeared?”

  “That’s not what’s weird.”

  “What’s weird, then?”

  “She’s being good.” Dill said it like he had just seen a mountain sprout legs and walk off over the horizon.

  “She can be good,” Peter said defensively.

  “Dude, when has she ever been good in your entire life?”

  Peter had to think about that. Then, when he finally had an answer –

  “Being asleep doesn’t count,” Dill interrupted.

  He was stumped, then. “Okay, that is weird,” Peter admitted.

  “Maybe she ate one of the mushrooms.”

  Panic rose in him again. “You think it made her sick?”

  “No, I think it made her good. We should, like, go pick every single mushroom in the whole freakin’ field.” Dill looked at Peter sternly. “For her. I’m never gonna eat one.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think you would.”

  Dill nodded. “I like me just the way I am.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “And I like her just the way she is right now, dude, so we really gotta go pick those mushrooms.”

  “Later. First we have to make sure she doesn’t get sick. And we have to get her to change her clothes.”

  Dill made a face. “And take off the Strawberry Shortcake bathing suit?”

  “Yeah, I know,” Peter said. “Say goodbye to the quiet game.”

  Dill sighed. “Great. Hello screaming game.”

  5

  But she didn’t make a peep. In fact, when Peter asked her to remove the bathing suit, she did so without even a hint of hesitation.

  Dill and Peter stared at each other.

  Looking quite peaceful, Beth sat on the floor in her still-wet corduroy pants and long-sleeve shirt.

  “Dude, I’m gonna go pick some of those mushrooms RIGHT NOW,” Dill said.

  “Do whatever you want, you have to get out anyways. I gotta get her changed into something else.”

  “Fine – I don’t wanna change her diapers. Enjoy the stank.”

  “She’s getting potty trained,” Peter corrected him.

  “Yeaaaah, I’ll bet she is.”

  “Just cuz you still wet your pants – ”

  “HEY!” Dill shouted and pointed angrily before stomping out of the room.

  Peter pulled off Beth’s shoes, socks, shirt and pants, leaving her only in her plastic potty-training undies.

  “Because you’re being such a good girl, we’ll put you in a pretty rainbow shirt…how about that? Is that good? Good Beth…” Peter cooed.

  She lifted her arms and allowed Peter to slip the pink t-shirt over her head without complaint. But when he tried to put pants on her, she shook her head ‘no.’

  “Come on, Beth, you’ll get cold without them. Here, just give me a foot – ”

  Beth stared at Peter from under her eyebrows and shook her head very, veeeery slowly. She looked like some old Godfather dude from a mobster movie silently telling an
enemy not to reach for his gun.

  Peter was a little taken back, but he tried again. “Beth, you gotta wear pants, what’ll Mom say if she comes back home and – ”

  “GRRRRRRRRRR.” Beth bared her teeth and growled like a pitbull guarding its dinner. Except scarier.

  “Okay, okay,” Peter said nervously, and dropped the tiny pair of blue jeans on the floor. “Well, you’ve been such a good girl, you can, uh, go around like that if you want.”

  Beth’s face reverted back to serene, and she just sat there, seemingly waiting for something else to happen.

  “Uhhh…you hungry? You want an apple?”

  She nodded slowly, once.

  “Okaaaay…come on, let’s take you to the kitchen.”

  Peter carried her down the stairs at arm’s length, a little worried that she might start growling again.

  Dill was already in the kitchen eating another ice cream sandwich.

  “Dude!” Peter said, annoyed.

  “Dude,” Dill answered. “Your mom said if I helped you, I got more ice cream sandwiches.” He put out his arms in a motion that said, Here I am doing what I’m supposed to be doing and What’s your problem? all at once. He looked a lot like Chandler from the television show FRIENDS.

  “I thought you were going to go get some mushrooms.”

  Dill snorted. “I thought you were going to dress her. What, you got tired halfway through?”

  Peter sat Beth in her highchair and snapped the tray on in front of her. “She, uh…she kind of growled at me.”

  “Oh, so she’s back to normal then.”

  “No, it was a little freaky…kind of scary.”

  Dill licked his ice cream sandwich. “Like I said, she’s back to normal.”

  Peter got out an apple and washed it. “No, man – if she was back to normal, she would’ve just screamed. She growled like an alligator or something. I’ve never heard her make that noise before.”

  While Peter sliced the apple into fourths and cut out the middle parts full of seeds, Dill grabbed a wooden cooking spoon and walked over to Beth’s highchair. He looked at her from the front, then the side, then from the other side. The whole time, Beth kept her head perfectly still and just followed Dill with her eyes.