“You watch too much TV. Let’s get out of here. I want to show you the town.”
Sheldon laughed. “The night is ours. What’s our first stop?”
“Central Park,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to go there at night but I never had a vampire to protect me.”
“What makes you think I can protect you?” Sheldon asked coyly.
“Fangs. Superhuman strength. Chutzpah.”
“OK, let’s go.” I led him out the door.
“Not yet,” he said. “I want to see you in something besides those shlumpy jeans. Now get dressed.”
“But I hate getting dressed up. I’m a jeans kind of girl.”
“Nope. I want to see you in a sexy dress. Wear this?” He held out a black, low cut cocktail dress that I’d worn once to a New Year’s Eve party. He’d snuck into my closet when I went to pee.
“I don’t even know if it fits.”
“Wear it.” He wasn’t letting me off the hook so I put it on. It was a little tight, but it did fit, and it showed off my impressive cleavage, which had gotten more impressive lately with my extra poundage. Thank goodness some of it had landed in the right place. I put on a pair of stockings and high-heeled boots, went into the bathroom, applied lipstick and mascara, and fluffed my hair.
“Rhoda, you are a vision.” Sheldon grinned when I came out.
“But I can’t walk in these boots.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll fly.”
“You said you couldn’t fly.”
“I’ve been practicing. I can glide around a bit on the ground. Just hang onto my arm.”
I put on the gorgeous cashmere coat that I’d snagged for twenty bucks from my favorite Upper East Side thrift shop but never wore because it didn’t really go with jeans. I looked in the mirror and had to admit I looked pretty terrific, even with my extra X’s. Sheldon took my arm in a very courtly gesture and we floated down the stairs. I was prepared to walk, but he hailed a cab, which stopped for us immediately, probably because he didn’t radiate weirdness when he was with me—or maybe it was the tan.
“Central Park, please.”
“It’s a big park. Where exactly? The cabbie asked politely. A polite cabbie in New York, what a concept.
“Where do the hansom cabs park?”
“You could try the Plaza. There’s usually a couple there.”
“To the Plaza then.” Sheldon turned towards me. “Champagne at the Palm Court. I saw this place when it was built a hundred years ago.”
“Do you drink champagne? Can you drink at all?”
“I can have a little, as long as I don’t overdo it. It evaporates in my system but the bubbles tend to fizz out of my nose. I wish they’d made champagne when I was human. I mostly drank sweet wine on holidays like the rest of the Jews. Until I died that is. Then I could only take a few sips.”
“You have to tell me the whole story,” I was eager for the details.
“Over champagne, darling.”
The taxi pulled up in front of the Plaza and Sheldon ushered me up the broad stairs into the elegant lobby. I showed him the portrait of Eloise, whom I adored when I was a child. He was mystified,
“I’ve always wondered why this silly picture is in this elegant hotel.”
I could see that life with Sheldon was going to involve some cultural dissonance. How could he understand what it was like to grow up as me, or vice versa? Oh well, I guess I’d just have to pretend he was from the older generation. Actually older by about four generations.
“She’s a character from a beloved children’s book. She lived at the Plaza and did naughty things like ordering two peanuts on a spoon from room service, swinging on the chandeliers in the ballroom and pouring water down the mail chute.”
“You thought this was cute maybe? She sounds like an annoying little pisher to me.”
“You had to be there.”
We sat in the Palm Court right in the middle of the Plaza lobby drinking champagne, or at least I drank champagne; Sheldon sipped a few bubbles. He bought me caviar, real black beluga, which I’d never tasted before, and I wolfed it down. I know you’re not supposed to wolf caviar but I couldn’t resist, despite feeling self-conscious about stuffing myself in front of Sheldon. For all I knew he could have lasted weeks without a blood donor, but I needed food three times a day and at least two snacks. This counted as a snack. “So, you promised to tell me more about becoming a vampire, Sheldon.”
He shrugged and said, “I lived in a shtetl in Transylvania, near Count Dracula’s castle. Actually Transylvania was part of Hungary at that time. He liked feeding off Jews because no one cared what happened to us. He knew I couldn’t fend him off. Stars of David have no effect on Christian vampires; you have to have a cross, a large, silver cross. We Jews were pretty short on crosses and even though I was a rabbi, the local priest wasn’t going to lend me something that valuable. So that monster fed off me and my people regularly until I died and came back as a vampire, like him. He made vampires out of the most pious men in the shtetl, he thought that would be a good joke. The joke was on him. The villagers eventually went after him and staked him in his coffin. They had no idea I was a vampire too, so they left me alone. But enough about me. How did you become Rhoda?”
“I was born that way, in New Jersey, the child of Jewish left-wing parents. They didn’t believe in religion. Any kind of religion. We used to go on picnics and eat ham sandwiches on Yom Kippur. They did believe in books, though, and I was a bookish kid. I spent all my time reading and avoiding sports because I was afraid no one would choose me for their team.”
“My poor baby. You’ve been chosen now, by me.”
We looked outside for a hansom cab, but there weren’t any. Maybe it was too cold for romantics to sit still while being hauled by a horse.
“Why don’t we just take a walk in the Park,” Sheldon suggested. “We could use the exercise.”
He was just being polite. I was the one who needed the exercise.
Walking in the Park with Sheldon was sublimely romantic, especially since I’d never seen it at night before. I loved Central Park, had spent many hours wandering around there, usually wishing I was a couple like all the other arm-in-arm couples. Well now I was but we were the only couple, which was a bit disappointing. I would have liked to show off Sheldon to all those snooty New York girls who hung onto their handsome dates, showing them off as if they’d bought them at Saks. The Park was scary at night. The streetlights cast long yellow shadows and the dark leafless trees looked a bit menacing. When we got to the Wollman Ice Rink, which of course was closed, I told Sheldon I wished we could skate. I loved to skate and wasn’t half-bad at it.
“Why not?” he said. “Let’s skate.”
“Has it occurred to you that the rink is closed, plus we have no skates?”
“No opening, no skates, no problem,” he said, lifting me up and flying me right over the stone wall that separated the rink from the park walkway around it.
“Wow, you really have been practicing. Now, what do we do for skates?”
“We depend on my magical powers,” he said, heading for the skate rental department at the back of the rink. “Just watch me.”
He broke in. No magical powers were involved, just a bit of skill in breaking and entering that he’d probably gathered over the centuries. Not really kosher but who cared? We grabbed two pairs of skates in our sizes, put them on and ice-danced together. Sheldon zipped around the ice, spun me in circles, and even lifted me over his head and twirled me. It was thrilling. I felt like Torville or Dean. I wish I remembered which one was which.
“How did you learn to skate like this?” I gasped. I was out of breath from trying to keep up.
“It’s cold in Transylvania in the winter, and we skated on the rivers to get around. I always loved it. Now it’s much easier since I’m so fast.”
“I wonder if we could try out for the Olympics,” I joked. “For the night events only, of course.”
A
fter our skate we went back to walking through the park, but while we were in one of the tunnels, two real live muggers actually did jump out at us. They were both just kids, dressed in baggy jeans, bomber jackets and caps, but scary kids because one had a knife and the other had a baseball bat.
“Where’s your wallet, whitey?” the bigger one demanded. Obviously Sheldon’s tan hadn’t impressed him. “You give me that bag, bitch.” He grabbed for my bag.
Sheldon reached for his wallet. Then he moved so fast I couldn’t even see him. He became a blur and all of a sudden we were on the other side of the tunnel and the kids were both gone. When I looked at him he was shaking and I could see the white under the fake tan.
“You were amazing.” I was numb with fear. “What did you do to those kids?”
“I threw them. If you look, you’ll probably find them on the other side of those bushes, and not in good shape.”
“So why do you look scared?”
“They tried to mug us. What if they’d hurt you. Or me? I’m a rabbi, not a policeman.”
I forgot I was afraid too and started to laugh. “Scaredy-cat vampire, eh. Let’s go back to my place,” I said. “Between the champagne, the ice skating and the fear, I am really lusting after your undead bod.”
“I’m sorry, Rhoda, I have to go to a meeting. I don’t want to miss B.A. tonight. I’ve committed to ninety meetings in ninety days. I had a relapse a month ago. I raided a blood bank.”
“What? What do you mean?” I was stunned at this new information.
“My B.A. meetings, Bloodaholics Anonymous. It’s how I keep my impulses under control. You can come with me if you want to.”
It was 2 am and I wanted nothing more than to get into bed with Sheldon and do the nasty, but I certainly didn’t want to get in the way of his sobriety. Plus I couldn’t imagine what a B.A. meeting could be like and my curiosity got the better of my lust.
“I’d love to go. Where is it?”
“Not in a church basement,” Sheldon laughed. “Follow me.”
Chapter Eleven
I wasn’t surprised when Sheldon led me to the basement of a ratty little synagogue on the Lower East Side: Temple Beth El. You never would have known it was a synagogue unless you looked closely for the Hebrew lettering on the door
We went down some stairs to a basement entrance, to a room with about forty people in it—all vampires, I supposed. The smoke was so thick I could barely see their faces. Just like alcoholics, I thought. They had to have something in their mouths and if it wasn’t people’s necks it was cigarettes. I started coughing so hard that Sheldon had to lead me to a chair.
“Smoke this.” Sheldon handed me a cigarette and told me to smoke it to mask my human odor. Otherwise the scent of my blood might cause some unwanted attention.
“I hate cigarettes, they make me sick.” I protested weakly, still coughing. .
“You’ll be even sicker if some of these bloodaholics get a whiff of you. Just puff, you don’t have to inhale.”
The group leader got up and introduced himself. “Hi, my name is Jerome and I’m a bloodaholic.”
The group all said in unison, “Hi, Jerome.”
He continued. “Tonight we’re working step nine, making amends to those we have injured through our behavior. My sponsor said that could be a letter, a phone call or ‘popping around’ to see them. Most of my amends were made at a personal level. Now that I sponsor vampires myself, I tell them not to confess to loved ones about those we’ve killed as that could really hurt them or put them in a bad position. Why confess to something that could get you put in jail! You can do more good passing on the twelve steps, than being stuck behind prison bars. In short, say you’re sorry when and if you can. If you can’t go to someone just become willing. A change of attitude, a change of heart, that is what it is about!” Jerome sat down.
Then a pretty blonde stood up and announced, “My name is Tiffany and I’m a bloodaholic.” She then went on to describe some of her more reprehensible behavior. “Last week I lost control, left home and wandered the streets looking for a victim. I found a poor homeless man who was sleeping in front of Bloomingdales at 3 am. He fought me off but of course I was too powerful. He smelled really nasty, but tasted so delicious I almost killed him. Thank God I stopped myself.”
A tall very skinny man dressed in jeans and a sweater stood up and declared, “My name is Terrence and I’m a bloodaholic. I try and try to stick to animal blood but the stuff just tastes horrible. Plus I’m in PETA and feel worse about killing animals than I do about killing people. Actually I think it’s more ethical to kill people—poor little animals can’t defend themselves. I try to kill rats but you know how intelligent they are and when they twitch their whiskers and give me that “please don’t hurt me,” look, half the time I release them. But I have to eat something so I raid blood banks, which I know is terribly wrong. Sick people need that blood, but so do I. I’m sick too if I don’t eat. So what should I do, tell me that? I have to survive.”
“He’s got a terrible dilemma,” Sheldon whispered to me. “You can’t be an animal rights activist and an abstinent vampire without getting in a lot of trouble.”
Just like in AA, no one responded. No cross talk was allowed, which was probably a good policy because what could anyone have said to this guy?
I watched as vampire after vampire stood up and confessed their irresistible lust for blood. Many of them fell off the “wagon” and stalked muggers and other criminals for their fix. Others weren’t so ethical.
“My name is Veronica and I’m a bloodaholic.” Veronica was a stunner. Tall, with long brown hair and a curvaceous figure, she resembled Ava Gardner in Night of the Iguana. “It’s just too easy for me. Men pursue me, will do anything to be with me. They literally throw themselves at my feet. I’m a weak person, I’ve always been weak. That’s how I wound up a vampire in the first place. I loved the bad boys, I was bored with the preppy types who went for me, I lusted for danger and I got it. One day a vampire came on to me. Let me tell you he was irresistible—looked just like Robert Pattinson. I couldn’t say no, so here I am. I let him suck on me for weeks and vice versa until finally I died and came back as a vampire. I don’t mind being immortal, but I don’t like having to fight my impulses all the time. Yesterday I had sex with a musician, you know how irresistible they are. I always wind up with musicians because they stay up all night, and I find them in clubs. Well, he was an electric guitarist in a heavy metal band. A real hot one. The sex was so incredible that I lost control and sank my fangs into his neck and just sucked him dry. It was too late to save him so I had to dispose of the body in a Dumpster. They found it the next day. You probably read about it on the news. I had to disguise it as a drug overdose so I left heroin and a needle on him before I dumped him. I am so, so sorry for what I did, but like I said, I’m weak. I might have to go into rehab.”
“Is there rehab for vampires?” I whispered to Sheldon.
“Yes, I’ve been through it. I’ll tell you about it later.”
At that point it was break time, and all the vampires got up and milled around a table with foam cups and one of those big carafes with push-button pumps that usually dispense coffee. The substance coming out of this carafe was definitely not coffee.
“What is that stuff?” I asked Sheldon, who hadn’t made a move to get any for himself.
“It’s blood, but the lowest-quality stale stuff that’s been in a freezer for probably months. They get it from a butcher so it’s from long-dead animals. Totally disgusting. I’d rather sit under a sunlamp than drink it.”
“Sounds like the coffee they serve at AA meetings,” I laughed. I’d been to Al-Anon a few times when I was involved with a guy who drank too much and I knew about the whole twelve-step thing.
I didn’t talk to anyone during the break, but they were certainly animatedly talking to each other. I noticed the vampires were a motley bunch—all ages, races and sizes. All socioeconomic groups as well. Som
e wore Walmart, others Sears and others Versace. Just like at a real New York AA meeting. They weren’t any better looking than the general public, though, despite the myth that you got better looking after changing into a vampire.
After the break we sat down again and the leader got up and said, “This is a step meeting. Has anyone been working the ninth step this week? Has anyone made amends to people you have hurt?”
Sheldon got up and said, “My name is Sheldon and I’m a bloodaholic. I hurt the woman I love. “He gave me a sidelong glance. “ By getting her hopes up about having a relationship and then letting her down by not calling her. She had to track me down. I’m not afraid of hurting her physically. I’ve been a vampire for a very long time and I can resist human blood. OK, occasionally I lose it and raid a blood bank, like I did recently, but I don’t kill anyone. I’m used to hunting small animals like rats and mice in the winter—and the occasional suburban raccoon.” He turned towards me. “No, Rhoda, I don’t kill dogs or cats. In the summer I kill a few squirrels in the country. And deer, I love to hunt deer. There are too many deer anyway. I haven’t hurt a human for a very long time, though I used to. I keep my impulses under control by coming to meetings. But a relationship, that’s scary. I’m afraid of being hurt.”
Sheldon sat down. I felt both happy and scared. I realized that this was a commitment I was making to a very dangerous way of life. I might be stalked by animal rights activists. PETA could send bomb threats. Or worse. Could I keep it up, I wondered. Could I love a vampire and not turn into one? Did I want to turn into one? It was very confusing to a nice Jewish girl who once upon a time just wanted to marry a doctor and live in Scarsdale. I might be marrying a Jewish vampire who sleeps in a coffin in Crown Heights instead.
I was distracted by another vampire, this time an elderly lady who looked like my mother. “My name is Zelda and I’m a bloodaholic. Although I never meant to be a bloodaholic. I always wanted to do good in the world, to help people, and now here I am hurting them.” Zelda started crying. I wanted to go over and hug her, but that wasn’t allowed in these meetings.
Interview With a Jewish Vampire Page 8