I, Vampire

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I, Vampire Page 4

by Jean Marie Stine


  Customers weren't overwhelming me and it didn't look like I'd see too much traffic. Some kids started playing Cosmic Guerilla, the huge video game right next to the Cage. The thick brown carpet that lined the bottom of the Cage absorbed the noise of the arcade, making my cocoon even more enjoyable. I fished the notepad out and began drawing pictures. You're supposed to write orders for cash on it, but so what. I had a lot on my mind. Maybe no one would come. That wouldn't break my heart. I'd get to sit in the nice cool Cage for six hours and think.

  "Quarters," said a man.

  I looked up. A man waved a dollar and pushed it through the cash door. The breeze from the fan caught the dollar and pulled it in.

  "How did you do that?" he asked.

  "I've got a fan in here." He couldn't hear me. The little screen that they talked through was higher than I sat, and anyway he'd never hear me over the screaming and shooting from Cosmic Guerilla. "I have a fan."

  "I don't have a van," he said.

  "Never mind," I said as loudly as was polite. I pulled the lever on the dispenser and counted how many quarters I got. It's supposed to give out two, but every now and then it screws up and gives out three. The dime ones like to screw up too and give out six dimes instead of five. I gave the man his quarters and he left.

  I went back to my picture. Cosmic Guerrilla makes this awful electronic beeping that gets worse as the game progresses. There were a couple of little kids playing it, screaming and yelling while it wore them down. I could see Al in the distance, his cloak draped over the corner of a pinball game. He wanted his cloak with him. It's been his for so long that he won't part with it. I can see that. It's a nice cape. It's really not what you'd think of us having at all. It's burgundy velvet, with all these gold patterns on it. It was his back when he lived in Spain, so it's old. And if the guy who staked Ian busted in and trashed our place, he wanted it safe.

  He doesn't talk much about what he was before. His real name is long and then there's all these other names behind it. They were like a pedigree or something. I know he was a conquistador, and that he was in Mexico. That's where he got changed. He said that he was in service to a very powerful old Cardinal who's even stronger than a vampire. He said he was damned to a life of purgatory, but never excommunicated. The way he said it was so painful I never asked him anything else. I guess he's what he is because of what he was, but he doesn't talk about it very much.

  I couldn't see what game he was playing, but that didn't matter. They're all good. I'd rather play pinball than the dumb video games. Pinball requires skill. Al feels the same way. That's why we're a good match. We're both kind of old-fashioned traditionalists.

  I didn't really fit in with Georges. He was kind of a playboy, with girls and drugs and blood everywhere. His whole place was red with black floors and ceilings. Someone had run a bunch of little lights allover the ceilings so it would look like the sky. There were speakers in every room, and he'd broadcast the sounds of whatever orgy he was having all through the place. And then there were the drugs. I think the drugs were for the people who came in to see him, 'cause they don't do anything for me and I don't see how they'd do anything for any of us.

  I was eighteen when I left home to Find Myself. I wasn't getting married and I wasn't going to college. My parents didn't care what I did, just as long as I didn't embarrass them in front of their friends at the club. So I went to Napa, and that's where I met Georges. He had it all and I went right along with him. I don't think it was even a month before I was a vampire.

  A dollar blew into me. I caught it before it hit the floor. "I want some tens," said a little voice. I looked up, then over the edge of the counter. There was a little tiny girl, no more than five, clutching a fistful of dollar bills. Her hair was braided into little cornrows and she had eye makeup on. I gave her the dimes and she walked away. A lot of people use the Castle as a baby-sitter, especially around Christmas. I watched her go and dump all her money on one of the Skeeballs and start to play.

  Seeing that little girl really pissed me off. She could get into all kinds of trouble here alone. What were her folks doing? She shouldn't have been here alone at night like this. Somebody could rip off her money, or worse. This little kid wasn't even ten. Her parents didn't deserve her. She'd end up with a guy like Ian or Georges and they'd piss and moan that their baby was gone. It was their own damn fault. I can't take people like that. My mom was like that. They shouldn't have kids if they're going to just dump them off wherever the hell is convenient for them.

  If I hadn't been worried about the hunter, I might have pointed her out to Al. That way he could locate her folks, and later we could drop in on them. I'd just do it once, 'cause after that it never has the same effect. I wanted them to see what could happen to their kid, if they even cared about her at all.

  A giant biker with leathers on came up to the booth. This guy was huge, even taller than Al! He had the Harley colors flying proud on his chest. I waited for him to pick up the Cage like it was a piggybank and shake it until all the money came cascading out. Where was Al? He'd get rid of this guy.

  He bent over and looked in the screen. I knew I was dead. "Excuse me, miss," he said softly, "may I have a roll of quarters?"

  "Huh?"

  He put down two fives. "Quarters?"

  "Yeah, sure. OK." I handed him the orange paper tube.

  "Thank you," he said, and walked away.

  Why couldn't that little kid have this guy for a dad?

  But I should know better than to go judging by looks. Some of the ones who hung around Georges were gorgeous and real bastards. I was afraid of most of them. The night Alessandro came I had to sit around in this leather strap and chain thing that exposed my boobs. I was supposed to be one of Georges' sex pets. I felt like an idiot in that thing and when Al said I was too young to be there I wanted to die.

  He said he'd been sent by the Cardinal to warn Georges that his behavior was too obvious and that he was running the risk of exposure. Georges laughed at him and called him the Cardinal's enforcer and La Sombra de la Muerte, the Shadow of Death. Al told Georges to release me and to settle down before the Cardinal took action. Georges snickered, but he did let me take my things out. I moved in with Alessandro in this house near the Marina. It was full of antiques and guns and all kinds of old stuff. I got used to being treated well in a hurry.

  Nothing was happening, so I started watching the pool games down in the Dungeon. The Cage was almost all glass on top, so it was a great vantage point. You could see the whole Dungeon and most of the arcade. There's a different rate for the pool games, depending on how many are playing. It's fairly common for people to say they have two players and really have five or so on a table. There were some gangbangers down there, and then I saw Jamey and a couple of others playing on Table 5. At least they were here, where they could see me.

  One night, when Al was out in the car waiting for me, some gangbangers decided to start a fight. They stabbed one guy and bashed his Monte Carlo all to hell. The security guards busted it up fast, but not before the gangbangers ran over a guy and shot someone else. Al went and grabbed one of them when he tried to run away. He fed off that guy and left him in the bushes for security to find. I was sorry I missed out.

  A big, hulking cowboy came up and shoved a twenty in at me.

  "What do you want?" I asked.

  He glared at me. I expected him to spit tobacco juice all over the kids playing Cosmic Guerilla.

  "Quarters. Many as you got."

  I handed him two rolls of quarters and put the bill away. "I gave you a twenty," he said.

  "I know," I yelled. "That's twenty dollars in quarters. Rolls are ten each."

  He stared at me for a minute. "I know." He picked up the brown and orange tubes and swaggered off.

  I checked the clock over the pool tables. 8 PM. The Castle was pretty full now. I could see the banks of Twenty-Ones. They're kind of a barometer for the arcade. When they fill up, you're in for a busy night. They
were full now, and people were milling around behind them, waiting for the players to relinquish their machines. It never occurred to them to go and play other things, but then, some of the games at the Castle are pretty hard. Twenty-One requires that you be able to put a dime or a quarter in a slot and roll a ball. For a lot of the customers those requirements are almost more than they can handle.

  But people are like that. They never think for themselves. They see Dracula on TV and then they go looking for us to stake. I wished Ian hadn't been so damn neat and tidy, with his big address book all fixed out for the hunter to go looking through.

  This tall guy with a beaky nose left a Twenty-One and came to me. He was a born leader, because suddenly all these people left Twenty-One and got in line behind him. They were just like cows. People never think.

  He pushed five dollars in and I grabbed them before they blew away. "Quarters," he said, smiling. "Hurry up. My wife is waiting."

  I nodded and started counting coins. "She's waiting," he said.

  "How long have you been married?" I asked, like I cared.

  "Since this morning. She and I want to spend the night here. So long."

  That stopped me. This was a new one. I looked over at the Twenty-Ones. There she was, all decked out in a fluffy wedding gown. Al was a few customers back. I wanted him to see this, so I pointed at the Twenty-Ones. Everyone turned to look, and when they saw the Bride of the Castle some of them started laughing. A couple of guys whistled and someone clapped.

  Al gave me some bills and I handed him his quarters. He spent a few minutes looking in at me. I love the way he looks at me like he wants to consume me. I love that look. I think that was what made me like him, that and the fact that he made all of Georges' creeps leave me alone. I could have looked at him all night. But the line was way long and he had to move on. He wandered over to the Twenty-Ones. Some kid saw him and ran away from his machine, so Al sat down and started playing.

  Money blew in, coins went out. Dollar in dimes, roll of quarters, five dimes, two in quarters, three in quarts, one in quarters. I had the feel for it now, so I stopped thinking about what I was doing and started thinking about what we were going to do tonight.

  I'd do anything to keep Alessandro safe. Not that he needs it, but I'd do it anyway. When he made Georges hand me over I felt so relieved I swore I'd kill anyone who hurt him. That's kind of funny because I'm nowhere near as strong as he is.

  And now there was the hunter. Who was I looking for, anyway? I didn't know this guy. What was I supposed to look for? Someone who came up a lot, or just once? Some guy with crosses and garlic breath or someone real quiet and reserved? I couldn't tell this guy from any normal customer. I was trapped in here, where he could see me, and I had no idea who he was.

  I wanted out of that Cage. I wanted to be out in the night with Al. I wanted to fly past and stay away from the regular people. I wanted to be free.

  Free was one of the things Georges used to get me. That and never getting old. When you're 18 you hope you have forever. You hope that the world is going to stop for you, and that you won't ever get old or sick or die. It'd always happen to someone else. I sure felt that way, and when Georges said that if I did a couple little things I'd be free of it, I jumped. I didn't know what I was doing, and I didn't care.

  Once I got settled in, I knew that everyone I ever met was going to be gone and I'd keep going. I never figured out why people said we were dead, though. It's not like dead. Dead is the cat you ran over with the car. Dead is the guy who got shot by some idiot kid. We're not dead. We live, we make love, we move. Dead doesn't move.

  What was the poem I liked, Death be not Proud. The only time I think about death is when some little kid gets killed. Then you realize how much life you need to have life. That's what makes us different. Everyone's a vampire, in one way or another. Whether you live off of plants or off of blood, it's the same thing. You need life for life.

  Smoke blew into the Cage. That got my attention. A kid in a Pearl Jam T-shirt handed me a five and took a long drag off his cigarette. You're not supposed to smoke in here. It stung for a few seconds and bothered me for a long time afterwards. I gave him his damn quarters and called security to report him.

  The next few dozen people went pretty fast. I tried not to think about why I was sitting there. The line was moving pretty good, and I could even see Alessandro now and then, scaring kids away from machines he wanted to play. I saw the clock go to 10, then 10:30. Things were going good.

  A tall hard faced woman with curly hair and a bunch of cheap gold cross necklaces pushed forward. I didn't like her. For a minute I thought she might be the hunter. She looked like the type that would run roughshod over whatever the hell got in her way. A twenty came in to me. "I want a ten, a five, four ones and four quarters," she said through her nose.

  I hate it when people say things like that. I don't know how else I'm supposed to break twenty and give them a buck in quarters, unless maybe I give them quarters and a nineteen or something. I started counting bills. There were some brand new ones, and they were sticking together.

  She didn't want to wait. "Are you trying to cheat me?" she screeched. I shoved her change at her and she left.

  She reminded me of something wild that happened when we were living in San Jose. These Born-Agains came to the door with this giant cross and all these pamphlets about Jesus. It was getting dark and Al and I had just gotten up. And here were these women singing at us about Jesus. I don't know what they said, but all of a sudden Al lost it.

  He grabbed the cross and it burst into flames. The women started screaming and Al yelled back at them in Spanish. I don't know what he was saying, but the Mexican guy next door crashed his lawnmower into a bush and ran away screaming. Al kept it up and the pamphlets burst into flames and then they started spitting blood everywhere. The cross was spitting blood too and the women were getting covered with bits of boiling blood. They backed up and Al went after them, yelling and waving the cross around. They piled into their car and he slammed the cross down on the trunk. It burned a huge black cross right into the metal. The cross spit up blood and flames and the women were screaming and crying and trying to get away. They finally got the car to go and they took off so fast they went over the curb and gouged marks in the road where they hit.

  Al made us pack up and leave there that night. It was a good thing too, because the Born-Agains came back while we were moving. We had already taken one load of things away and were coming back for the rest when we saw these people standing in the driveway. There was a preacher there, holding a Bible and shouting all sorts of stuff at the house. Al got mad, and said that a bunch of Heretics weren't going to exorcise him from the house. He wanted to go and get rid of all of the Heretics. That's what he called them. Heretics. I was scared. There were so many of them, and only two of us. We had already taken the important things. The stuff left in the house was junk that we could replace. It wasn't worth getting them all excited and maybe staking us. He finally decided to do it my way and we drove past. But he couldn't resist opening the window and saying something in Spanish. The last we saw of them, the preacher was on his knees screaming and the cross was spitting blood.

  Some guy tapped at the glass. "Change?" That brought me back.

  "Yeah. OK. I can handle that." I gave him his money and he left.

  I had to watch it. What if he'd been the hunter? I couldn't afford to drift away like that again.

  It was 11 and the freak show was in full swing. There were more people in the Castle than I had ever seen before. People could have dropped dead out there and they would have never hit the floor. That crowd would have just kept right on pushing them along. I shoved five hundred dollars into a bag and called Ron out to the Cage to take it. I was almost out of dimes and I had less than a roll of quarters left. I looked at the line of customers. Maybe I could placate a few of them.

  "Quarrrrrs," said the first man as he tried to put a dollar in the window. He was way past
the point of knowing where he was. I gave him the quarters and he stumbled away.

  A bunch of little kids crushed forward. They dumped a torn brown bag full of pennies, nickels and ones out on the counter. I scooped the mess in and began to count. "What do you guys want?"

  They thought for a minute, then changed tactics and started fighting. I gave them a couple dollars in quarters and the rest in dimes. They were silent for a whole second while they looked at what I gave them, and then they started fighting over who got what and how many.

  A big burly man with tattoos over every square inch of his arms shoved the kids out of the way. They retreated a few steps and then began yelling at him. He threw a five at me. "Roll of dimes."

  Fortunately I had a single roll of dimes left. I handed it to him and he turned to go. Just then, one of the little kids darted in front of him and he tripped. The roll of dimes dropped from his fist and burst open.

  The kids shrieked and dove for the dimes. People started picking them up. He was shouting and screaming threats at everything that moved. The kids disappeared into the crowd and the man was left with half a roll of dimes. He saw me laughing at him and started yelling at me through the side glass. While he was screaming I tried to help other people, but the next guy wanted a roll of dimes and the last one I'd had was now scattered throughout the arcade. I apologized and we all waited. The burly man pushed that poor guy aside and crammed his face against the glass. "You goddamn bitch," he roared, "I've had it with you ripping me off. I want the manager of this joint out here so I can see him!"

  Damn, I wanted Al there. This bastard needed Al!

  "You hear me?" he screamed, and tried to reach through the opening. "I want the manager now!"

  Where the hell was Al when I needed him?

  "You wanted to see me?" asked Ron.

  The big man peeled away from the cage. Ron shoved the money bag in to me and took the man away.

 

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