by Gayla Twist
“You are from Italy?” I asked. I was feeling rather shy to be standing there by myself, speaking to a young man I didn’t know, but I forced myself to be bold.
“Si,” he said, closing his eyes again like a cat enjoying a nap in a sunbeam. He tilted his head back to rest it against the tree.
“You are one of the men laying the floors in the castle?”
“Si,” he said again.
Climbing off my bike, I put down the kickstand. Taking a deep breath, I blurted, “Have you ever met the family who will live here?”
My question caused the young man to lift his head and look directly at me. After staring at me for several seconds, he said, “No,” rather curtly. “I have never met the people who will live here. But I hear of them and it is never good things.”
“What have you heard about them?” I asked, fully realizing that I sounded like the town gossip.
The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. My question had made him uncomfortable. “It is stories that are not nice to hear,” he said. “They are not for the young girl like you.”
I felt the sting of disappointment. What was the age where people stopped saying things like, “You’re too young to hear things like that,” or, “I’ll tell you when you’re older,”? This young man couldn’t have been much older than me and he knew the stories.
I started getting back on my bicycle. There didn’t seem much point in haranguing him if he was reluctant to talk. But my leaving somehow loosened his tongue. “I will tell you this thing,” he said. “I would not like for such a family to move to my town.”
“Why not?” I ask, not bothering to climb off my bike.
His face darkened and I couldn’t tell if he was getting angry or just struggling for the right words. “They are not like the people,” he said. “They make the bite.”
“Oh.” I was beginning to understand him. “You mean their dogs?”
“No.” He shook his head adamantly. “They are not the mannaro.”
“Pardon?” I said, bending my ear toward him. His English was good, but I didn’t quite catch the last word. “They’re not the what?”
“Mannaro,” he said again, more slowly. “I do not know this word in English, but that is not the family.” He looked at the space between us for a couple of seconds, his lips moving slightly as he tried to work something out in his head. “They are not the lupo.” Then his eyes widened a little. “They are not the wolf, but they bite. They bite very badly. You must stay away.”
The Vanderlinds apparently had some kind of weird pets that were especially vicious, was all I could conclude. Some type of dog or wolf or something. Maybe these animals had a habit of escaping their kennels and attacking the locals. That was the only thing I could guess. But would the family really ship such beasts across an ocean? Especially after they’d already made such trouble?
I was just about to mention this possibility to the young man, when another worker, middle aged and also covered in sawdust, came out of the castle. He immediately yelled at my new friend in a foreign language. I assumed it was Italian. The young man said something in reply, also in a heated voice. He gestured at me several times. The only word I understood between them was the name Vanderlind.
The older man swung around to glare at me and then a string of words came out of his mouth very rapidly. I had no idea what he was saying. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t speak Italian.”
This apparently made the man even more furious. He took a deep breath and then said, “You go out of here! You leave this! You do not come here!”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I was just asking about the Vanderlind family. I didn’t mean to keep anyone from their work.” That was the only thing I could think of that would make him so red in the face.
“Go!” the man shouted. “You go now!” He waved his hands at me as if trying to chase me off. “You not come back here.”
“I really didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble.” I gave the young man an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” I told him.
“He wants that you should go,” said the young man. “He wants that you leave because there is danger.”
“You no come back here!” the older man roared. He picked up a pebble from the ground and threw it in my general direction. “Ora!Ora!” he shouted, reaching for another pebble. I had a feeling that this time he wouldn’t miss.
Turning my bike fully around, I started pedaling hard and didn’t stop until I was safe in the garage back at my house. The whole things was very strange, and frightening, and a little humiliating somehow. I didn’t appreciate being chased off like a sheep that had strayed into the wrong pasture. The man didn’t have to throw stones at me.
There was still some time before dinner, so I went to my room to think. Why were all the workmen warning me about the Vanderlinds? There must have been some terrible incident back in Hungary. Something to do with some type of vicious dogs. Maybe the dogs had killed a person. Maybe even a few people. Was that why the Vanderlinds had decided to move away? To escape the shame of their pets having killed or maimed some people. That seemed rather strange, but it was the only thing I could thinking of, given what I had been told.
I decided that it was probably best for me to stay away from the caste, at least until the floors were finished and the Italian carpenters were gone. I was drawn to the castle, but that didn’t mean I had to be foolish. If there really were rabid dogs that were going to be housed on the estate, then I would have to fight my nature and avoid the place as much as possible. I didn’t mind a well behaved dog that was happy just to sit on a porch or fetch a stick, but I was not overly comfortable with dogs that liked to jump and bark. A vicious dog would probably be able to sense my fear and target me for its next attack. I was sad that I wouldn’t be able to ride over to the castle anymore, but I wasn’t a stupid girl. Those men were warning me for a reason.
Just then Lilly came into the room and immediately flung herself on her bed. “What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“They’re letting me go from Zucker’s,” she said, tearfully.
“Why?” I exclaimed, coming over to sit next to her on the bed. “What happened?”
“Oh… Mrs. Zucker’s cousin in moving to Tiburon,” Lilly said, wiping her eyes and giving a loud sniff. “She’s going to start working there, so they won’t have any space left for me,” she explained. “And there’s not a job for you, either,” Lilly said. “Mr. Zucker asked me to tell you.”
“Oh, no.” I let my shoulders slump. The Zuckers had told me that I could work at their store over the summer. I was hoping to start at the end of the month, when school let out. Lilly and I had planned to work there as much as we could to bring in extra money for Mama and Papa. And Lilly had thought she might keep working there for a few years, at least until she got married or found another job.
“Now I’m never going to get to see Walter,” Lilly said, morosely as she flopped onto her stomach.
“Have you told Mama and Papa?” I asked.
“No,” Lilly told me, her voice slightly muffled by her pillow.
“Well don’t say anything yet,” I told her. “Let’s try to find some other work first so they don’t have to worry.”
The other evening, Lilly had overheard Mama and Papa talking about paying the bills. Things were getting very tight. Papa was worried that if he didn’t find more work then we might have to sell the house and move in with his brother. All of us loved our house. Papa had crafted it with his own two hands and it really was a thing of beauty. Lilly and I were determined to contribute whatever we could to keep us in our home.
“Alright,” Lilly agreed. The jobs at Zucker’s had sounded too good to be true. There were plenty of people out of work and willing to do just about anything to earn a couple of dollars. “I’m sure we could maybe get something on one of the farms.”
“There’s got to something,” I agreed with her, but we both knew it was going to be a challenge. “I
t’s just a shame they didn’t hire Papa to work building the castle,” I said.
Lilly gave a small laugh, even though there were still tears in her eyes. “You’re just saying that because then you would get to look inside.”
“Well, that too.” I couldn’t help but join her in giggling a little. “But I mean, it would have been nice for him to have the work.”
Sighing, Lilly murmured, “I guess it’s too bad our last name doesn’t sound Hungarian.”
Chapter 18
Jessie
The person who took Grandfather’s death the hardest was Mrs. Denkler. I told her when I returned to the cabin, after checking that someone was attending to the cabin boy’s injuries. I hoped to everything holy and unholy that Grandfather had not left any clues behind connecting him to the Vanderlind family. I knew his cabin would be thoroughly searched.
“No, no, no,” Mrs. Denkler wailed once I’d told her of her employer’s demise. She immediately began tearing at her hair with grief.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her firmly to stop her from doing further injury to herself. “He’s gone,” was all I could tell her. “I tried to save him, but it was impossible. The crowd wouldn’t stop until they were sure he was dead.”
Emily was standing behind Mrs. Denkler. I could see her over the shoulder of the grieving housekeeper. Tears were pouring down her face. She looked at me, her entire body trembling. “You mean,” she gasped. “You mean that I won’t have too…” she couldn’t finish her words. “You mean I’ll never…”
I nodded, and tried to summon a smile. “That’s right,” I told her. “You’re going to live to be an old lady.” Our mother had seen to that.
Emily covered her face with her hands and ran to her cabin, slamming the door behind her. I was glad for her. I knew she had dreaded becoming a member of the undead. But her actions did leave me with an inconsolable Mrs. Denkler in my arms.
“What will become of me now?” the housekeeper wailed. “What will become of me?”
“Everything will be just fine,” I said, half carrying her across the room to lie her down on the couch. “You’ll come with us to America. You’ll be the Vanderlind housekeeper. Nothing has changed,” I assured her.
I rang to have some liquor brought to the cabin and ordered it to be brought on the double. The steward arrived with a bottle of bourbon and a bottle of soda. He wanted to come in and set the drinks up for me on the bar, but I refused to let him enter the cabin. Instead, I asked him to just pass everything over the threshold. Mrs. Denkler was so distraught, I didn’t know what she might let slip with a stranger in the room. At first the steward seemed a little offended, but I was able to smooth things over with a rueful smile and a generous tip.
“Here, Denkie, drink this,” I instructed, handing her a brimming glass. “It’ll calm you,” I assured her.
I had expected our housekeeper to just sip daintily at the straight bourbon I had handed her, but she downed half the glass in just one gulp. Her body shivered and pitched a little as the liquor ran through her, but it did interrupt her wailing.
After that she sat there for several minutes, just staring at the wall opposite her, not moving or making a sound. I wasn’t sure what I could do for her or what I could offer her to make her feel better. My mother had suspected Denkie would take the news hard. She had taken it upon herself to somehow get the news to Daniel, if he didn’t already know. My brother had been eager to become a member of the undead and he had more respect for our grandfather than the rest of us. Still, as long as the Vanderlind name was untarnished and our fortune was still intact, I doubted Daniel would mind too horribly much.
Without warning, Mrs. Denkler rose to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said in a quiet voice. “I think I need to lie down for a few minutes.
“Please,” I said, hurrying over to her in case she should be unsteady. But that was not the case. She crossed the room to the cabin she shared with my sister without a tremble, her head high and her eyes hard. “I think you should just turn in for the night,” I told her, seeing her to her door.
Her eyes shifted in my direction, but I could tell she wasn’t really looking at me. Her movements gave the impression that she was more automaton than human. “Thank you,” she said. “You’ve always been a kind boy.”
When Mrs. Denkler had turned the lock inside the cabin, I hurried to my private quarters and dug into my valise. I drained the remaining contents of the first pint in one large gulp and had downed half of the second bottle before I really knew what I was really doing. It took great self-restraint for me to cork the remaining blood and tuck it away. I had to force myself out of the room; the urge to finish the pint was so strong.
After the light went out in Emily and Mrs. Denkler’s cabin, I felt truly alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. Sinking onto the couch, I cupped my head in my hands. Grandfather’s demise was too horrible to think about. If I closed my eyes, I could still see the image of him going over the side. He hadn’t cried out as he fell; no wail of fear, no words of farewell. He must have been too weak to fly. I had to wonder if he suspected any of his family of treachery. Did he know my mother had set him up to be discovered?
And was Grandfather truly gone? That was another thought that would keep me awake in my coffin. He was in a weakened state and had been slashed at by many shards of wood, but had he actually been staked? Was he still of this world, just floating in the ocean somewhere? We were in the middle of the Atlantic. There wasn’t even the smallest bit of land for a thousand miles, but that didn’t mean that Grandfather wasn’t still alive. Had he somehow kept pace with the ship and was, even now, climbing aboard, hell-bent on revenge? That thought compelled me to my feet. I found myself on deck a moment later without jacket nor any memory if I had locked the state room door.
I began hurrying down flights of stairs to the lower decks. Surely there would be wet footprints if he’d managed to save himself. I scanned the polished floorboards and hung over the railing, trying to glimpse if there was a figure bobbing in the ocean.
At the stern of the ship, I caught sight of a shadowy figure, leaning against the rail. He was the same size as my grandfather and had the same demeanor. I stutter-stepped with surprise, but a moment later I understood that the figure was my brother.
“He’s not here,” Daniel said, his voice a low growl. “I’ve been looking since I got word, but there’s not a sign of him.”
“So he’s really gone, then?” I had to wonder. “He’s out there.” We both took a moment to examine the vastness of the ocean.
“He was a foolish old bugger,” Daniel felt the need to observe. “Feasting on a cabin boy… I should have thought Grandfather had better self control.”
I shrugged. “Maybe the temptation was too great.”
Daniel laughed. “I suppose we should be grateful Mother insisted we travel under false names,” he observed, using a voice that was loud enough to draw attention.
I jerked my head slightly to let him know he should be silent. It was stupid of him to assume that we were the only beings out and about, even though it was the middle of the night.
“Don’t be such a prig,” my brother muttered. “There’s no one around to hear us.”
I could see that Daniel had inherited the arrogance that had been our grandfather’s undoing.
But it would do me no good to point that out. Daniel seemed satisfied that Grandfather had not made it back onto the ship and I had no reason to doubt him. “Have a good night,” I told my brother as I turned to stroll away. It never even occurred to me to ask him to share some of his blood. I would let the last misdeed of our Grandfather go unknown to the rest of the family. He’d done enough evil things in his life. I didn’t need to add one final black-mark against him.
When I opened the door to our quarters again, the first thing I saw was Mrs. Denkler’s hard eyes glittering in the darkness. I could see her clear as day, but there was something about the darkness that
may her eyes glow in a different way. “Oh,” I said, rather surprised. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“No,” she told me. “I just needed to rest for a minute.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “I hope you’re not unwell.”
“No, I am well,” she insisted. “The loss of your grandfather was quite a shock, but I’m sure the family feels it more than I do.”
I nodded, unwilling to commit words to the topic.
“I greatly appreciate your understanding when I…” Mrs. Denkler waved a thin hand through the air. “When I became upset. I was very fond of your grandfather.”
“Yes, of course,” was all I could think to say.
“And I appreciate your assurance that your family stills values my services,” she said.
I tried to smile. “I don’t think we could run the castle without you.”
“Do you mind if I turn on a light?” she asked. “It makes things easier for me.”
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Don’t get up. Let me do it for you.” I quickly found the switch.
“I have something for you,” Mrs. Denkler said, holding out a small cup covered with a cloth.
I asked, “What is it?” but my nose had already told me. It’s was blood. “Where did you get it?” I exclaimed. Then I noticed that her left arm was bandaged at the wrist. “Denkie, you didn’t!”
“Of course I did,” she said, still offering me the cup of nectar. “I know you’re trying to be brave and not say anything to your family, but it’s going to be hard for you to make it another two full days without feeding. Better to have some of my blood, given voluntarily, than to have you lose control and…” Her voice cracked a little. “And get caught the way your grandfather was.”
“I couldn’t,” I told her, although my eyes were glued to the cup in her hand.
“Of course you can,” she said, sounding a little cross. “And besides, what do you think will happen if you slip up and the passengers discover another vampire aboard this ship?”
She was right. If I did make a mistake, then she and Emily would also be held responsible. And it wouldn’t stop there. They crew would probably search the boat, cabin by cabin, until my mother and brother were also discovered. If I lost control, then my whole family would more than likely be killed.