Valerie paid for the food with the allowance Charlie gave her once a week and asked the bagger boy to deliver everything to her house in a half an hour.
Chapter Four
Harry the Menace
“Come on! Hurry up Bobby!” Harry whispered in a voice half exhilarated, half annoyed. The two boys were making a prison break from Sangre Valley Elementary School. Melody Homer, a pudgy, tattling second grader had thrown up her lunch’s blood by the swings and the playground monitor Ms. Hatcher was attending the mess. Harry couldn’t have created a better diversion himself.
His partner in crime was Bobby Miller. Even though Harry was in the sixth grade and Bobby in the fourth, the two boys were best friends. Both were bright and funny and bored out their minds by the monotony of school. They wanted to have adventures and run free and laugh, not sit quietly in their seats and learn what they already knew: seven times seven was forty-nine and Mississippi had four S’s, four I’s, and two P’s.
So when Harry saw an opportunity for escaped, he grabbed his best friend, and they made a run for it. Once a block away from the school and sure no one had perceived their disappearance, they slowed their sprint to a walk. Neither child was out of breath.
“Did you see all that blood? She must have eaten a whole cow for lunch,” Bobby laughed.
“That was pretty cool.”
“So what do you want to do? I’m going to get a whipping for this so we better make it good,” Bobby said.
“Let’s go to the market.”
“For what?” That hardly seemed adventurous or fun.
Harry shrugged. He had a plan in mind though. Harry almost always had a plan. That’s why he rarely got caught. It was times when he acted on impulses like when he went after his peer’s throat with teeth bared, that he got into trouble. Today, like the day he had gotten into the fight, Harry had been starving since breakfast and the pulses on the playground were once again becoming too tempting. He needed to divert his attention and satisfy his thirst.
Main Street had a steady trickle of people. As the only school age children around, they would have stuck out like a sore thumb, but the boys, both devious to a fault, knew how to be inconspicuous. No one really looked at them. Everyone out on the street had their own business to attend to, just as the boys did.
As they came closer to the Blood Market, Harry’s mouth began to salivate. He could smell the humans inside. When they became visible from behind the glass, he almost lost control. Almost. It would have been worth it, to sink his teeth into a warm human, the paddling from Dad, the lecture from Mom. But if he kept himself in check, he could sneak a taste without anyone being the wiser.
“So what’s the plan, daddy-o?” Bobby asked as they stood in front of the store. “I don’t have any money.”
“Neither do I.”
Bobby’s face lit up. “Whoever gets the most blood vessels wins?” That had always been a shop lifting favorite.
Harry slowly shook his head. “Whoever can sneak a bite of a human.”
“How are we supposed to manage that? These two are in the display. And the human stock is right next to the meat counter. There’s always a butcher keeping an eye on them. And what if the human shrieks? We had one once that howled. Right in the middle of supper. Dad had to break its neck.”
“We can do it. I want her.” He looked up at the female in the window. She was around his brother’s age, lanky blonde hair, a pretty face if you bothered to notice, a long exposed neck. He could see her pulse beating through the skin. She had large, plump breasts half bared in a scoop neck shirt. For a reason he didn’t quite understand, Harry wanted to bite them too. Her blue eyes were glazed over, the eyelids almost drooping. She wouldn’t scream. But what a thrill it would be if she could. He could hear her heart, strong and vital, the taste of her would be sweeter than other humans. Pretty ones were usually sweeter. His mom thought him weird when he told her that. John teased him about falling in love with humans. But John was usually a butthead. Dad whispered in his ear that he always thought so too.
“In the window? With everyone walking by able to see you?”
“That’s what makes it a challenge.”
Bobby frowned.
“Are you a chicken?”
“No!”
“Good,” he said. The bell on the door chimed as they walked into the market. The window did seem more risky, but no one on the street had even paused to look at the humans. The butcher would certainly have his eye on the human stock—not so much worried about thieving but monitoring the humans’ sedated state. There had been stories about humans suddenly becoming violent and attacking vampires. But they were just stories as far as Harry was concerned. Stories that John told to scare him, or that Mom and Dad said to keep him out of the pantry. He had never seen a human do anything except stand there waiting to be devoured. He would have loved to have been at Bobby’s house when one shrieked.
They pretended to look over the blood vessels and severed fingers that could be sucked dry. He saw Bobby pocket a couple. Causally Harry walked over to the front window display and slipped behind the rope. Bobby kept lookout incase a cashier or customer wandered by. Harry wasn’t worried about the view from the street. He thought about going for her breast, but that’d be too noticeable, so he crouched down and rolled up her pant leg. She stood there swaying a bit, the way they usually do, and he bit into her calf. He could hear his teeth break the skin with a crunch and the blood gushed into his mouth, metallic and sweet, warm—almost hot. A little bit of the sticky sweetness trickled down his chin.
“Okay, that’s enough. Harry! That’s enough! Let’s go!” Bobby said in a rushed, hushed tone.
Harry couldn’t hear him. He was lost in the ecstasy of the blood rushing over his taste buds and pouring down his throat. Better than the taste of the blood, was the satisfaction of his hunger, the gnawing inside his stomach, inside his soul, being fulfilled. Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream. Startled he broke away. The girl was staring down at him. Her eyes no longer glazed. Her pale mouth extended in a wide O. She saw him. Harry smiled up at her, blood staining his teeth red.
“Harry!” Bobby grabbed his arm.
“Hey! What’s going on over there? What are you boys doing?” the butcher yelled storming from the back of the store.
They sprinted out of the store, Harry laughing, Bobby running for his dear life. People on the street cursed at them as the boys wove between the grownups, accidentally bumping and knocking purchases out of their hands. That was the most fun he had had in his entire life. He couldn’t wait to do it again.
They ran all the way to the park.
“Did you see its eyes?” Harry asked. “She saw me. Really saw me.”
Bobby shook his head. “You’re crazy.”
Harry laughed.
“You think the butcher recognized us?” Bobby asked.
“Nah. For all he knew, the human just freaked out and we ran because we were scared.”
“You sucked enough blood out of her. He’ll know.”
Harry shrugged and began climbing a tree. What could the butcher do to him anyway? “Bet I can climb higher than you.”
“No way,” Bobby said and followed up the trunk behind him.
They hung out at the park until school let out then began wandering home. He knew the teacher would have reported him missing and that his mom would have gotten a call from the principal. But he would be able to talk himself out of it. He was smaller than the rest of the kids in his grade. All he had to say was that a bully was picking on him so he hid in the rest room. It was a lie, but because of his size, she’d believe it. No one in school ever picked on Harry though. Except for Bobby, they all kind of stayed away. Especially since the fight. He didn’t care though. He had Bobby.
“See you tomorrow,” Bobby said.
“Are your parents bringing you to the dinner party at my house?”
“After the school calls saying I skipped? Hell no.”
Harry smiled. “Then see you tomorrow.”
Soon as he entered the house his mother’s voice bellowed out, “Harry Edward Murray, you get into this kitchen right now!”
Shuffling his feet with his head hung low, he entered the kitchen. Valerie stood there with her hands on her hips glaring down at him.
“Principal Jordan called.”
“I’m sorry Mommy.”
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than ‘I’m sorry Mommy.’ First getting into a fight at school and now skipping? Where were you?”
“The bathroom.”
“For three hours?”
He nodded and sniffled.
“Why?”
“There was a kid picking on me . . . I was scared to go back into the classroom. He said he’d beat me up and suck all my blood and turn me into his zombie.”
His mother did not soften as he expected. “Why didn’t you tell your teacher?”
He shrugged. The silver pad lock on the pantry door suddenly caught his attention. The pantry was only locked when they kept a human in there. He stared at the door, that gnawing hunger arising inside him again.
“Harry!” his mother yelled snapping his attention back to her.
“I don’t know. I’d only get it worse later. They’d gang up on me if they knew I tattled.”
Valerie shook her head, looked at the pantry door, then back at Harry again. “So was the bully picking on Bobby Miller too?”
“Huh?”
“Was Bobby hiding in the bathroom with you?”
He nodded.
“The teachers checked the restrooms for you boys. Harry, you just lied to me.”
Harry wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He was surprised by how smart his mom had gotten. He kind of liked it. More of a challenge. But first he had to get out of this trouble before he could get into trouble again. He had two choices. Cry or tell the truth. He was getting a little too old for the crying.
“I was bored,” he said flatly.
“Excuse me?” Now she seemed caught off guard.
“I’m bored in school. I already know everything. I’m sorry I lied to you. But I didn’t think I could tell you the truth.”
“You can always tell me the truth. But skipping class because you’re bored is no excuse,” she scolded him but seemed less upset now.
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, no human blood for you.”
“But—“ His eyes went back to the pantry door.
“No. We’ll discuss this more when your father gets home. And if I see you trying to get into that pantry or discover any bite marks, you will not have any more human blood until you’re married with children of your own. Now, go to your room. Don’t leave it until I call you for dinner.”
He was about to protest but decided against it and turned to leave. He wished he would just get a paddling or be grounded. That would have been fair. But no human blood—that was cruel and unusual punishment.
“Harry,” Valerie called out in a softer voice. He turned. “I’ll talk to your teacher. Maybe we can get you into some advanced classes or something, okay?”
He nodded. He didn’t want advanced classes. He wanted blood.
Chapter Five
Young Vampire Love
In the margins of her calculus homework, Amelia doodled, her hand on her chin, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. Mrs. Drew Sanders, she wrote in dreamy, loopy letters. Mrs. Amelia Sanders. Mr. and Mrs. Drew Sanders. DS+AM. Around the initials she drew a perfect heart with a red pen. It was much more pleasant to daydream about Drew than work on her equations. Next to the numbers and mathematical symbols, she began sketching his face in red ink. That strong, rectangular chin, the slightly pointed nose, those narrow dark eyes that glistened in the moonlight . . . the lock of white blonde hair that always hung over his high forehead. He was handsome. Beyond handsome. There weren’t even words for him.
It wasn’t about the way he looked though. Amelia wasn’t so shallow. He could have been scarred and deformed, and she would have still felt the same way. Maybe he didn’t make the best grades, but that was only because he made no effort in school. He was kind of a trouble maker. Truancy. Vandalism. Back talk. But he was intelligent, knowledgeable. Especially about history. Though she had never seen a book in his hand, he must read a lot to know so much. She could picture him stowed away in his bedroom reading Anna Karenina where no one could see how uncool it was, pushing that blonde lock of hair out of his eyes as he read.
She sighed and began another sketch of his face, this time from a three quarter profile. Drew had transferred to Sangre Valley High two years ago and had become instant friends with John. They were both on the football team together and hung out nearly every weekend. But he had barely noticed Amelia. She was just John’s kid sister. A nonidentity. Weird. Quiet. Always skulking around in the shadows. He liked girls like Stacy Andrews—the first girl he dated after transferring. A senior cheerleader—which of course propelled him into instant popularity and completely out of the league of Amelia Murray. Stacy was a flirt and, well, had a reputation. Drew seemed to only date girls with reputations. Amelia had never even been kissed.
So he had a bad boy image. That was part of his appeal too. She could admit it. But Amelia argued that there was more to him. It was in his eyes. There was pain there and a longing, an appreciation for . . . life? Beauty? Something, she just wasn’t sure what. It was a bit of a mystery. That was what had entranced her. The handsome exterior and bad boy cockiness was just a bonus.
She knew what attracted her to him. What made him suddenly take notice of her? Was it the conical bra she made her mother buy? Or maybe there was some sorted rumor about her floating around school? She cringed at the thought of being considered loose. That was highly unlikely though. Someone would have to notice her first to begin a rumor about her. Maybe . . . it had been her art. That was what she liked to think. One night when she was hanging out with her brother and Drew in the rec room, a sudden shadow had fallen over her as she sketched. She looked up and there was Drew standing over her, his soulful dark eyes on her sketch pad. It was just a rough drawing, certainly not her best work, just a girl sitting in a window sill watching the moon rise as her hair danced in the wind. He told her, “that’s pretty cool,” then smiled at her. Not the devious smile she usually saw when he and John were up to no good, or when he was flirting with some girl in the hallway. A genuine smile. She’d never forget that smile as long as she lived.
Or maybe nothing had changed. Maybe he was just being nice to his best friend’s sister that night. Maybe she was still John’s homely little sister and John had talked him into the idea. Thought it’d be a laugh. Or perhaps both John and Drew had taken pity on her. Poor Amelia sitting home alone every Friday night. Poor Amelia who always sat by herself at lunch. Poor Amelia who never had boyfriend. She couldn’t bear the embarrassment if her brother or Drew truly thought that.
It wasn’t that Amelia was really unhappy. She rather sit alone than have to listen to the mindless prattle of other girls about how unfair it was that their skirts couldn’t be more than an inch above their knees or how dreamy Elvis was, or pretend to take interest in their self-induced drama. She’d rather read alone and drink her blood. Nor did she want to go to a party just to watch kids get drunk on fermented blood, dance without rhythm, and basically make fools of themselves. It was stupid. She didn’t want to be popular like John with rallies and assemblies to attend. It would just be nice to have someone . . . to talk with, to understand her. She thought she had a secret understanding of Drew. Maybe he had a secret understanding of her too.
“Amelia and Drew sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes love then comes marriage then comes a baby in a baby carriage . . .” John sang into her ear, suddenly standing next to her.
“Get away!” she cried elbowing him in the stomach with all her might.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed laughing. “Don’t have a cow! I thought you’d be happy.”
“Geez Aims, you really don’t give yourself enough credit. Or give me too much. The only reason boys don’t ask you out is because you’re quiet. You don’t know how many noses I’ve bloodied in locker rooms because I heard some jerk talking about you in an inappropriate way.”
She continued to stare at him. She knew her brother would defend her honor. But she highly doubted any boy would defile that honor.
“I know I kid you, but . . . Drew approached me.”
“What exactly did he say?” she demanded crossing her arms. Her heart raced waiting for his answer.
“He said that he kind of noticed that you had grown up and gotten . . . I won’t use his word. I warned him not to use it again. But he wanted my permission to take you out.”
“So I need your permission to date?”
“You don’t. He does. The double date was my idea though. I know the stories he tells in the locker room. And he’s not just exaggerating like most guys. I don’t think he’d try any of that stuff with my sister because he’s my buddy, but I’d like to keep an eye on him myself.”
“This really isn’t a pity date?”
“First off, Drew is not the type to pity anyone. And second, I wouldn’t do that to you, Aims.”
“I don’t know.” She liked him. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so reluctant to say yes. How many nights had she prayed for Drew Sanders to ask her out?
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Truthfully John really did not want to go on a double date with his kid sister, especially not to the drive-in. Not because he held anything against Amelia. He had tried to get her to hang out at his lunch table and invited her to parties with him. He always said hi to her in school. She just didn’t want anything to do with high school life, and everyone in school knew it. Even if she was a self-inflicted outcast, Amelia was still cool. He could always count on her. Confess how he flunked a test on Shakespeare without her finking to the parents. Or tell her how he tried a cigarette for the first time after a basketball game in the parking lot one night. He had pretended to like it to look cool but told Amelia that it tasted disgusting. She wouldn’t judge him one way or another. They could share those kinds of secrets. But there were also secrets he did not want his little sister knowing about.
The Vampiric Housewife Page 3