Billy Purgatory: I am the Devil Bird

by Jesse James Freeman

  When the glee club was done laughing at his lurking cowardice, he one night vanished. I knew from the smiles on their faces the next night they'd sacrificed him in the basement to one of their moon goddesses. I still don't know why, but I couldn't sleep until I saw the scene of the wake.

  And yes, the basement, where only the most brave amongst us would ever find ourselves. In the old times, when our people moved with less enthusiasm and more like rambling junkies seeking out a fix, they'd used the tunnels as entry into their world, the upstairs where the humans dwelled.

  The pure and serene places to hear people talk of them, where fathers and sons toiled and mothers and daughters cherished the hearth. Vampires would find families huddled together, drunk on their love for all the wonders they had given to a world lacking without them, and we'd slaughter them to blood bucket fountain, stripping them of their hopes and dreams. Then full as ticks, we'd laugh with the moon about it all.

  That's when vampires were campfire stories to people, boogey-men. When we slowly made our presence known to the crazies and the greedy of their race, we became a fascination, a Peter Pan dreamtime love affair. How wonderful it must be to live a life such as ours, the humans told us. How wonderful, too, we vampires felt, how simple really, to live that simple life of man.

  I confidently made my way into that darkness to explore. The basement tunnels still stood, dark passages into their sunlight play-grounds. A borderland where anything that hides with nighttime sits, waiting for something from above to pass, or to venture too close to that manhole or storm drain. The trapdoor opening begins a new life for the prey and new revelations about their place in the order of nature. If for only the briefest second of clarity before the lungs seize and the eyes transmit that last horrid visage. Tales of fairy and ogre and hobgoblin led to fanciful explorations in our early youth, but we never found anything there more fantastic than we.

  And even if we had, we'd have just killed it and laughed with the moon about it.

  It wasn't hard to pick up the trail of blood and chalk that led to the filth-scribed mandala on the floor. They'd taken him here and dragged him along the stones towards the big drain, that poor lame vampire boy. The abandoned river overflow that sits idly unless the really big rains come. It hadn't rained so wildly to fill it in all the years I'd lived back then.

  Lying in the big pipe, its roof higher than a man standing on another's shoulders was all that was left of that once proud vampire boy: an arm. Its hand curled into a desperate fist, the nails sharp and raised, the last attempt at millions of years of the hard knocks encoded into DNA. Even if he hadn't known this was the end, his cells had, and they'd reacted to honor the lizard's claw. It hadn't been enough.

  I barely took in the lonely arm. I was far too distracted by a visitor to our world. He stood there in dark shirt and shorts, dirty sneakers and with that wooden skateboard held tight to his left side. Even in the comatose light the scar across his face was plainly visible and his black hair spiked towards the roof.

  There I was, face to face with Billy Purgatory. All I could think about was that I should have worn the other dress - the black one.

  “What was his name?” Billy didn't look at me. He looked at the arm.

  “It's not important. He was weak.”

  “He had one though, right? Did he have a family?”

  “We were his family.”

  “But it was you people who killed him?”

  “We're not people. But, yes. He wasn't strong enough to live with us anymore.”

  “Did he have a mom?”

  “Look up at me.” I was calm - seductive even (or, as much as I understood the concept then).

  But Billy didn't look up.

  “Did he have a dad?”

  “Come closer.” I slowly moved.

  Billy crouched now, the skateboard dropped from under his arm, landing on its wheels. Obedient. Always by his side.

  “We don't need those things here,” I said, and I should have said it more assuring and less like I did.

  Billy picked up the arm and looked up at me. He was unafraid.

  “I'm going to bury him.”

  I reached out my hand towards him.

  He was on the skateboard now, pushing away into darkness. I was slightly hesitant, but I had a chance…

  “Why waste the time?” And I blew that chance.

  “So someone will know where he is. In case they want to say they're sorry.”

  That night, when Billy Purgatory pushed into darkness with my former classmate's arm, I began to question.

  Chapter 13

  Prom

  You're the most dressed up I've ever seen you.” Mandy Brickstaff stood outside of the Supremo-Mercado at the end of Stringer Street as she offered Billy Purgatory a drag off her cigarette. She was leaning against the side of her boyfriend's Trans-AM in her prom dress. She had been crowned prom queen earlier in the evening and had the crown and sash to prove it.

  Billy watched the reflection of himself shaking his head at her in the shiny purple scales of Mandy's dress. Mandy was lavish and overstated covered in sparkling patches like the skin of a gaudy snake.

  Mandy shrugged and took another drag. Billy turned his attention to the store. She had the prom king inside, haggling with the store clerk over cheap wine. Mandy watched the cigarette burn as she took it from her lips. “Prom ended an hour ago, Purgatory. I know I didn't see you there,; I'd have remembered.”

  Billy stood on his skateboard. He was wearing the tuxedo he'd found in the attic that he was sure had been his Pop's – even though Pop claimed to have never seen it in his life. The fancy suit had seen some years and needed a little taking in, but Billy had pulled it together and made it work.

  “How come you didn't go to prom?” Mandy rolled the cigarette between her fingers like she was fascinated with fire more than anything else right now.

  “I was going to go.” Billy didn't have much more of an answer than that. “I just never made it.”

  Mandy nodded, never looking up. “You didn't miss much.”

  “It seems like you had a good time.” Billy indicated the sash.

  “This?” Mandy ran her fingernail down it. “Who else were they gonna give it to?”

  “Right. Your whole life has been leading up to it, huh?”

  Mandy laughed quietly. “Exactly.”

  She turned her head to watch the football player present the fake I.D. Mandy had made for him to obtain supplies for the after party at the lake house. “He's not real smart.”

  Billy was entranced with the smoke rising from the cigarette cherry. “He was smart enough to get a date to the prom.”

  Mandy tossed the cigarette and Billy watched it sail like a kamikaze firefly over the hood of the car. “He's an attachment.” She took the crown from her head and hung it on the side mirror. “Just part of the ensemble.”

  The jock was pulling money from his wallet and began counting it out, laying it on the counter. The clerk folded his arms taking in the desperate bribe.

  Mandy pushed herself from the car and stood straight. She was a tall girl, with long blonde hair that was piled high atop her head in thick twists. “Maybe you and I could have more fun together, Billy.”

  Billy watched her lips move and the muscles of her jaw distort the side of her face and tighten her forehead. The more she talked the more the entwined hair appeared to flex – tightening and then relaxing like two serpents inviting one another closeness and warmth.

  “The keys are in the car.”

  Billy set a foot to pavement. “What did you call it?”

  Mandy's eyes were pools of blue questions. “Call what?”

  “Attachment?”

  Her lips quivered and she made a sound like a hiss, “Yeah. Attachment.”

  Billy looked across the parking lot. He watched tiny wings push moths towards a flickering streetlight. It was a circle, excitement of the appearance of a sudden mysterious glow which gave their lives meaning then cau
sed them to retreat hopelessly as it vanished. When the light would buzz back to life the moths changed direction and did it all over again.

  They never got tired of this game.

  Billy pushed hard with the foot against the ground and began gliding across the parking lot on his board. He hoped that when he got close to the streetlight it would decide to let the light above die so he could more easily join the darkness.

  Mandy watched Billy fade away and could smell the approach of her date long before he ever placed a hand on her shoulder to alert her he had returned.

  The combination of the smoke from her fresh cigarette and his touch made her nauseous.

  “Babe, the guy in there isn't the guy from the other time…”

  Mandy turned more to make his hand fall off her than to face-off with him. “What are you telling me, Troy?”

  “I can't get us beer.”

  “Did you tell him that I'm the goddamn prom queen?”

  “I told him.” The boy had the look of a wounded dog. “He said he has ethics. I don't know why we didn't just raid your old man's liquor cabinet.”

  “It's not smart to steal from my father.”

  Troy looked down at his shiny rented shoes.

  The goth in the schoolgirl regalia who stepped from the alley at the edge of the parking lot provided a temporary distraction from Mandy's oncoming rage. Troy was already lifting his chin from the ground and staring at the girl. The goofy look on his face turned Mandy's stomach even more.

  The girl was pretty and had some balls walking right up to the prom queen in the middle of the night on the wrong side of the tracks.

  “I can get you beer.” The words from the goth girl were life music to Mandy's ears. She suddenly warmed to the girl with the green eyes and the long black hair and met her gaze with a smile bigger than Mandy had thought possible for her to fake.

  Those eyes – so green.

  II

  Billy stood outside the doors that led into the school gymnasium. Picking the lock would be easy enough – he'd done it a hundred times and the only evidence he ever left were the tracks his wheels left on the freshly waxed basketball court.

  Billy waited to go in. He could hear her in the woods.

  “It's been a long time,” Billy said this quietly and tried to hide the excitement in his voice.

  Lissandra stepped from behind an elm tree and made her way to a bench on the path towards the entrance to the school. She was in faded jeans stained with the patterns of leaves from moving through the overgrowth of the forest. A dirty grey T-shirt and no shoes completed the mix. Her hair was piled up in the back and she wore a very gypsy looking blue scarf tied up to cover it all.

  “You look like a douche.” She meant it.

  Billy sat on the bench next to her, leaning forward and holding his skateboard. “Yeah, I figured I did.”

  Both were quiet, but Billy didn't want them to be. He felt like he had things to say to Lissandra and that they were important things. He also felt if he even attempted to say any of those things on this night that he'd be doing her wrong. The more he searched for words, the more they felt like they'd be lies.

  “The party's been over for hours, but I'm sure you know that.” Lissandra ran her feet over the concrete path.

  “How come you don't go to school anymore?” Billy looked back at her as he asked.

  “I don't see any point in it. It's just one more thing I don't need to anchor me to their world.”

  Billy spun his board in his hand, letting it spin like a top balanced with the tip against the path. “Whose world?”

  “People. I'm not so into them.”

  Lissandra was counting stars as Billy agreed, “Me neither.”

  “What are you going to do about it, Billy Purgatory?”

  Billy let the skateboard stop spinning all on its own and land on the concrete. “What am I gonna do about what, gypsy girl?”

  “Prom night is over and school will be too soon.”

  “I have summer school…”

  “Beyond that, Billy?”

  He again remembered he had no Life Plan.

  “I go out and live my life and finally get away from all these jerks that I've been tied down with for all these years.”

  Lissandra was leaning back on the bench. “Well if that's your plan, then why are you hanging around where all those jerks just threw the biggest party of their lives?”

  “I'm just out like I always am at night.”

  “In a tuxedo?” Lissandra rose so gracefully and quickly from the bench that she seemed a blur to him.

  Billy tracked her with his eyes and knew she wouldn't be keeping him company for much longer. “I don't know why I'm dressed like this. Why are you mad?”

  “I'm not mad, Purgatory. I shouldn't have expected anything from you that made any sense.”

  Billy thought maybe he should stand up too, but didn't. He never knew what to do in regards to girls. This particular girl was trickier than most.

  “It's really sad that you either won't admit what you're doing here or you're too dense to realize it.” Lissandra said she wasn't mad, but Billy was pretty sure she was lying.

  “It would be healthier if you were out tonight because you wanted to see what it felt like to be normal. If you wanted to be one of them - those vapid people that we sat in class with.”

  Billy didn't say anything else. It would have just made her more angry and it wasn't like she was coming back. He watched her move to the trees and wasn't sure when he'd ever see her again.

  III

  Billy left his skateboard sitting next to the empty punch-bowl. There still lingered in the air the hint of strong perfume and aftershave. Billy flipped a couple of switches and music began to flow – well, not Billy's idea of music, but it seemed to fit what had taken place here.

  Billy straightened his jacket as the disco ball spun and the light refracting from it painted the room in diamonds. Billy was pretty sure that some of those colors he'd never seen before. He slow turned, following the light and tried to imagine what it had been like in there earlier in the evening.

  When he imagined his classmates, they weren't people at all. They were aliens or angels… or something. They couldn't have been the kids he'd grown up with.

  Everyone was nice to him. Just for that one night they were all smiling at him.

  Anastasia was wearing the dress that Mandy Brickstaff had been wearing in the parking lot of the convenience store. She'd ripped all the frills from it and had sliced a couple inches off the skirt, but it was definitely the same dress that had stared Billy down under the streetlamp.

  Billy had his hands in his pockets, watching all that light collide with the shiny scale armor that she wore so well. “Hey.”

  Anastasia tried not to show too much enthusiasm. “Hey.”

  Anastasia spun in her borrowed dress. She rose up on her left toe and did a turn for Billy. “How's the dress?”

  “Did you kill her?”

  “Her, no. Him…”

  Billy didn't grieve the loss. “What are you doing here, Anastasia?”

  “We're not exactly having a prom at my school.” Anastasia did a walk around what had been the refreshment's table, taking in the sights. “I wondered what it would be like.”

  “Yeah, that's what I'm doing here.”

  “At least you had a chance, Billy.”

  Billy watched her walk, cut his eyes to his skateboard and considered making a break for it. He couldn't stare at the old wooden board for too long though. That dress was too distracting.

  “What kind of chance did I ever have?”

  “You could have asked some girl and gone to this event while it was actually taking place just like everyone else could. What happened to that feral girl you used to sneak off into the woods to play kissy-face with when we were kids?”

  Billy put his hands in his pockets when Anastasia crossed the end of the table and headed back his way. “The one who doesn't talk to me anymor
e because you tricked her into making it look like we were together?”

  “You throw that word out a lot.”

  “What word?” Billy was definitely starting to feel uncomfortable.

  “Trick.” Anastasia steered her course away from Billy, her attention zero-ed in on a stack of shiny CDs. “You're always thinking that one girl or another is trying to trick you.”

  “I don't think that. I think you're the only girl always trying to trick me.”

  Anastasia didn't look up, shrugged. She dropped a CD into a tray and pressed the play button.

  Music assaulted Billy's senses and Anastasia moved her hips to the beat. “I tricked you like one time.”

  “Journey.” It wasn't at all odd to Billy that he was having a discussion with a vampire who was wearing a stolen prom dress. It was the choice of music that was throwing him.

  “What? I like this song.”

  “Really?”

  Anastasia walked into the center of the dance floor. She looked very pretty, this Billy had to admit. She seemed harmless enough…

  “Are you going to ask me to dance?” Anastasia opened her arms when she asked this. “I promise…”

  “You promise what?”

  “Whatever reason you have for not dancing with me right now – I promise I won't follow through with whatever that is.”

  Billy looked back at the door.

  “One dance, Billy Purgatory. I swear on my beating heart, which is pumping football player douche blood through my veins right now, that I won't be bad.” She placed her hands between her breasts, covering her heart. Her knees came together and she did a little twist at her waist.

  Billy crossed the dance floor of spinning light and put his hand in hers. “One dance?”

  Anastasia nodded excitedly.

  “You promise you won't bite me?”

  “I super-duper promise. I swear on all things dark and evil…”

  Billy raised his free hand to his own lips and Anastasia took that as him being convinced enough. Then his fingers left his lips and touched hers, “No talking. Only Journey gets to talk.”