Interview With a Jewish Vampire

by Erica Manfred

  “They’re Golden Grandmas and committed to helping other old folks, vampire or human, or human to vampire. I think they will.”

  Toweling off when we got out was almost as exciting as soaping, but by that time both of us were too exhausted to do anything about it, plus it was Sheldon’s bedtime. I realized I was hungry since I’d been driving all night without anything to eat. I tucked him in and then went off to the kitchen to make myself some scrambled eggs.

  Before I went back to bed I sat in the kitchen, shoveling eggs and toast into my mouth, figuring out what was next. I realized I was totally stressed out from all the upheaval in my life, and all the arrangements and plans I’d had to make. Sheldon could hardly help much—he wasn’t familiar with making travel reservations, visiting funeral directors, Florida roads, Google research, hiding coffins in storage areas, on and on. In the space of two months I’d met a vampire, fallen in love with him, lost him, found him again, been introduced to an entire vampire other world, turned my mother into a vampire. I was kind of fried.

  I took the frozen waffles out of the freezer, popped them in the toaster oven, smothered them with maple syrup and wolfed them down. The downside of Mom living forever started sinking in. I loved her, yes, but she was also an obnoxious Jewish mother who wanted to intrude into every aspect of my life. Now there would be no respite, she could stalk me forever. I thought about a story I’d heard on TV by a gay comic about his mother’s funeral. A friend came up to him at the funeral and said, “Congratulations.” He was bewildered and asked, “What for?” “You have a partner, you just bought a house, adopted a child, your career is taking off, and your mother’s dead.” At the time I thought it was funny. . Mothers are supposed to die and now mine never would and I had no one but myself to blame.

  I rummaged in the cabinets and found a box of matzo and made matzo brie. I had a great recipe. It was Mom’s recipe and she’d never eat it again. I started bawling while loading the dishwasher and wiping off the counters. I doubted that becoming a vampire would make her any less of a neat freak. She always gave me such a hard time if I left dishes in the sink. “Rhoda, the ants will take over if you don’t get every crumb.” I supposed she had a point, this was Florida after all. At least there were no roaches. After cleaning the counters I hit the ice cream in the freezer. I’d consumed at least 1,500 calories and it wasn’t even 9 a.m. I resolved to go on Weight Watchers again as soon as I got back home.

  Finally I staggered off to join Sheldon in our room, which we’d made dark as night with blackout curtains. He was snoring. I’d never suspected that vampires snored.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Florida B.A. meetings were in a much more comfortable environment than New York meetings. No damp, chilly church basements. Tess had arranged for B.A. to meet right there in Century Village in the clubhouse. How she had managed this was beyond me, because if anyone knew what was going on she would have lost her condo, but Century Villagers weren’t likely to guess. Most of them had never heard of vampires, they didn’t read Twilight or watch True Blood, although a few must know about Anne Rice.

  One reason Tess managed to get space for meetings was that they took place at 10 p.m.

  After most Century-ites were long asleep and the clubhouse was actually closed for the night. She had access to the yoga room, which meant everyone had to sit on mats on the floor. This wasn’t a problem for vampires, who were pretty limber, even old ones, but I was going to have a hell of a time getting up from one of those mats. I had insisted on going with Mom and Sheldon. I wanted to see how the meeting affected her.

  Another problem for Tess was getting B.A. members from the outside into Century. There was a security guard at the gate who checked everyone’s passes. If you didn’t have a pass, the guard would call the person you were visiting to get permission to enter. Tess would vouch for people she knew were coming and then get them passes somehow. For the ones she didn’t know there was a forgery ring in Fort Lauderdale that got papers of all kinds for vamps who needed them, whether they needed to get into Century Village or through U.S. Customs. Most B.A. meetings were open to all, but this one was like a speakeasy. You had to do the equivalent of knocking three times before you could get in.

  I brought the meeting up with Mom the next night while we took a midnight swim in the pool. Being a vampire wasn’t such a bad thing for an avid swimmer like her, the pool was always empty after dark. It was hard to talk because Mom now swam so fast I couldn’t keep up with her.

  “Slow down, will ya, Mom, I have to tell you something, or ask you something.”

  “It’s hard to slow down, Rhoda, I’m like a regular dolphin these days.” She kicked water in my face as I struggled to reach her.

  “You can do it, Mom, try the sidestroke with one arm.” I watched her flip on her side. “That’s it. No kicking.”

  “Sheldon and I want you to go to a B.A. meeting,” I gurgled, swallowing some water as I spoke. “It’s at the clubhouse and Tess runs it.”

  “Is that some kind of degree program?”

  “No, it’s like AA, except for vampires. Bloodaholics Anonymous. It’s a 12-step program for vampires who are having trouble keeping their bloodlust under control. I went to a New York meeting with Sheldon. Very nice people.”

  “I’m no addict. At least I don’t think I am. Plus those 12-step programs are always talking about God, aren’t they? You know I’m an atheist.” Mom started kicking and swam to the other end of the pool. I’d have had to yell to keep talking to her.

  “Slow down goddamnit.”

  “I forgot. Sorry.” She swam back in my direction, cutting through the water like Mark Spitz.

  “Do it for me Mom. Otherwise I’ll be too worried about you when I go back to New York. If you go I’ll feel that you’re, well, taken care of.”

  “Are there any cute young men there?” She winked.

  “What? I thought you had no interest in men?”

  “Since I died and became a vampire I’ve come back to life in more ways than one. And what do I see, a bunch of old farts like me. I know I don’t have hormones but I feel like I do and I want handsome.”

  “What makes you think handsome would want you, Ma. You’re eighty years old forgodsakes.”

  “I don’t feel eighty. How about this cougar thing I’ve read about—where younger men go for older women?” Mom batted her lashes flirtatiously at me, then had to wipe the chlorine out of her eyes. It seemed vampires didn’t like chlorine any better than I did.

  “By older women they mean forty, Mom. Not eighty.”

  “How about a forty-year-old man? I’d even go up to fifty?”

  “I have no idea who’s coming to the meeting. It’s later tonight. You’ll find out when we get there.”

  “I have to look through my closet for something really nice. Maybe that pretty dress with the African print. And my platform wedge heels. What do you think?”

  “You’ll look gorgeous Mom,” I said but she was already out of the pool and halfway back to her condo before I finished the sentence.

  It took her an hour to get dressed and put on makeup. She wasn’t any faster at getting ready to go out now than she’d been when she was human. Actually, it took even longer because she had more energy to try on clothes. When she finally exited her bedroom she looked pretty good, I had to admit.

  “Fanny, you’re a vision,” Sheldon looked at her admiringly and smiled. Mom’s face lit up.

  “If you weren’t my daughter’s boyfriend I’d snap you up, young man.”

  “Don’t mess wit my man, or I mess wit you.” I gave her a menacing look and she laughed.

  We got to the meeting a little late, but it hadn’t started yet and there were plenty of yoga mats left. I looked around and instead of the black and gray outfits everyone wore in New York’s B.A. meeting, there were a plethora of pastels, women in slacks and matching T-shirts, men in nylon jackets and leisure suits. I looked around and didn’t see a male face under age seventy-f
ive. Mom looked disappointed. I was relieved. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing her come on to some hapless young male vampire. I was also glad that there were some elderly male vampires. I wondered if they called themselves the Golden Grandpas.

  Tess stood up and read from a pamphlet: “We’re working Steps One and Two at this meeting. We admitted we were powerless over our addiction; that our lives had become unmanageable. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. I’ll talk about my own experiences. Everyone thinks I’m long past Step One, that I’ve got it all together, that the vampire life was always easy for me, but that’s far from the truth. I still struggle with my desire for human blood. When I go to Wal-Mart and see all those juicy young housewives I get so hungry that sometimes I have to leave without buying what I came for. I haven’t fallen off the wagon—well maybe once at Marshall’s—but I still come to meetings every week to stay abstinent.”

  “I’m not powerless over anything,” Mom whispered to me. “And my life isn’t unmanageable. All these men are alta cockers, let’s go.”

  “Mom, shh. This meeting is for Sheldon too. You need to stay and just listen. Go sit down.” I pointed out an empty mat next to me.

  Mom obediently sat where I told her, and I managed to lower myself onto a mat, with the help of Sheldon. I really need to do some yoga, I thought, I’m about as flexible as a corpse with rigor mortis. Ick. I’ve got to stop thinking about death.

  An old guy in a sweat suit with a lot of gold jewelry and a deep tan got up next. He looked like my deceased Uncle Manny who always had a tan. I wondered where he got the tan considering vampires couldn’t get one naturally.

  “Isn’t that Manny?” Mom whispered.

  “I sure hope not,” I said. “We went to his funeral.”

  “My name is Sal and I’m a bloodaholic.” the man announced with a distinct Brooklyn accent.

  “I guess it’s not Manny,” Mom said.

  “Sometimes I DO go after one of the juicy housewives,” Sal continued. “I can’t go shopping anymore at all, it’s too tempting. I give my shopping list to one of the Golden Grandmas. I stay home and go with Tess to the ranch once a week, that’s the only trip I trust myself to take. Life is getting pretty boring. I was an alcoholic before I became a vampire. Actually I died of cirrhosis and came back a bloodaholic. I guess addiction continues after death.”

  I wondered if that meant Mom was destined to be a bloodaholic since she struggled with her addiction to sweets her entire life and was always on one diet or another. Maybe non- addictive personalities have an easier time with their post-mortem hunger.

  Sheldon got up next. I told Mom to sit still and be quiet while he was talking.

  “My name is Sheldon and I’m a bloodaholic. I came down to Florida with my girlfriend to turn her mother into a vampire. To do that I had to suck her blood for a number of nights, which compromised my abstinence. I haven’t actually drunk any human blood for many years and this awakened my taste for it. I don’t know how to deal with that. I’m trying to resist but now old people actually awake my hunger when it used to only be young people. Luckily I’m fine around my human girlfriend, and people I know, but strangers look damned appealing. I think I can control myself, but I’m not sure.”

  Everyone clapped and thanked Sheldon.

  “Now can we go?” Mom whispered fiercely to me

  “No,” I whispered back in a firm tone. “You need to hear what these people have to say. They’re your friends now, whether you know them or not. You may have to come to these meetings someday. Like every night from now on.”

  Mom sat down and dutifully listened to the rest of the speakers. Most of their stories were pretty tame compared to the New York B.A. meeting. These folks had been turned into vampires in old age, usually by their vampire children. Mom and I weren’t the norm because I was still human. They talked mostly about missing real food. I heard tales of yearning for pastrami, pickles, lasagna, gnocchi, matzo ball soup, even corned beef and cabbage from an Irish lady. Mom listened intently, then got up to speak.

  “My name is Fanny and I’m the mom who was just turned into a vampire by Sheldon here. I would kill for a coffee ice cream cone right now. I’m hungry and I know I’ll get sick if I try to eat regular food anymore but I haven’t accepted that. Tess took me to the farm in Okeechobee and I killed a little lamb and felt terrible about it. It was such a cute little thing. I accidentally attacked a truck driver on the way there. I’m afraid I might lose control in the future and attack a store clerk. I hate those kids, they’re so rude. I’m not fond of truck drivers either. They’re always trying to run us older drivers off the road.” I saw some nods of agreement. “Thank you for listening.”

  More applause and a group “Thank you Fanny.”

  Mom was nothing if not charming and socially adept; she caught on immediately to what was expected of her in any situation. Plus she loved to talk. I knew she couldn’t resist chiming in after everyone had shared. I was terribly relieved after the meeting. Mom was in good hands.

  On the walk back to her condo she turned to Sheldon. “What’s with this higher power thing they’re pushing at these groups? I’m an atheist and that’s the way I raised Rhoda. We don’t believe in God.

  “Not God, Fanny,” Sheldon said patiently, immediately assuming his rabbinical air of authority. “A higher power as you understand him.”

  “I don’t understand why there’s a need for a higher power. Or a God. Even I know vampires sell their souls to the devil for eternal life. Luckily I don’t believe in the devil either.”

  “There’s quite a lot of disagreement among vampire religious scholars whether or not we have immortal souls. Personally, I say we do, especially those who have given up killing humans.”

  “I don’t believe in souls either. We live, we die, fatik, that’s it,” Mom said.

  “You didn’t die Mom,” I said, running to keep up with the two of them. Trying to stay abreast of two vampires when you’re an out-of-shape human is not easy.

  “Well, I might as well have. I don’t understand all this so I’ll just ignore it at meetings. Is that OK, Sheldon?”

  “That’s fine, Fanny. You can go to B.A. without believing in anything. Some people see the group itself as their higher power because it helps them stay abstinent.”

  “I’ll do that,” Mom said, having resolved the issue to her satisfaction. “Now I’ll race you two to the door?”

  Was she kidding? She and Sheldon took off, leaving me standing there. I ambled back slowly, relieved that I didn’t have to try to keep up with the Century Village vampire track team.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We took a night flight back to New York a few days later after making all the necessary arrangements for Tess to change Ellen and Miriam. She took over effortlessly—she was a take-charge type and had all the necessary equipment. Getting through customs was easy this time since we weren’t checking through the coffin. Actually that coffin had almost derailed our whole plan. I wanted Sheldon to leave it with Mom so Tess could use it for the other girls but he flatly refused.

  “I can’t possibly return home without my coffin, Rhoda,” he sputtered angrily as we hauled it into the storage room. I’d never seen him so angry. “For one thing Goldie would be extremely upset. She’s used to it. She depends on predictability—when anything in the apartment changes I never hear the end of it. And how could you ask me to give up my coffin! That’s my history, my family heirloom, the only thing I have left from the old country. I’ve slept in it for a hundred years.”

  I wanted to get rid of it so he’d get used to sleeping at my apartment in my bed, but that was clearly not an option. We compromised. He would ship it back UPS to Crown Heights, but agreed to stay at my apartment without it if I bought blackout curtains.

  “But what is Tess going to use for Ellen and Miriam?” I asked him.

  “Look on the Internet for a coffin. I’m sure you’ll find something,” Sh
eldon suggested helpfully.

  Sure enough at www.coffintables.com I found a casket kit for only $800. The ad read: Traditional Austrian casket design. Approximate set-up time - 1/2 hour. Tools required - universal screwdriver set, hammer, wood glue. All pieces cut to length and sanded. Made With Solid Pine and Rope Handles - Bedding is an option.

  “Are you handy, Sheldon?”

  “C’mon Rhoda, I’m Jewish. I can barely hammer a nail into the wall.”

  My ex-husband couldn’t screw in a light bulb and I never knew a Jewish guy who could fix anything, so I had to look elsewhere. Mom knew Tony, a handyman who worked for Encore, the Century Village maintenance company. She called and told him she was ordering a pre-fab coffin to use as a coffee table until she passed on, at which time it would bear her remains. “I don’t want to trouble my daughter to buy one,” I overheard her telling him on the phone. “They’re so expensive at funeral parlors. I thought it was a good idea to pre-plan.”

  Tony was used to strange requests from Century Villagers, many of whom were suffering from dementia, so he agreed to assemble it. I called and had the coffin Fed Ex’d overnight and the next day Tony knocked it together in about an hour including a teak-stained finish. Voila! Instant coffin coffee table. It was a handsome piece, actually. Mom had a huge Spanish shawl with fringes and embroidered flowers that she threw over it, and with a few artfully placed chachkas it looked quite stylish. The girls loved it. In fact both Miriam and Ellen decided to buy one for themselves before Tess changed them. Tess agreed that it was always a good idea to have a coffin as a backup sleeping place in case she or the girls got insomnia. In the bright Florida sun even blackout curtains didn’t block all the light. She thought the coffin coffee table idea was brilliant because it also served as a hiding place should vampire hunters start looking for the Golden Grandmas.