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The Vampire of Plainfield

Page 11

by Kristopher Rufty


  “Oh, stop!” Robin gasped. She shivered. “I could easily picture that!”

  Timmy laughed. He couldn’t help feeling a pang of pride knowing an idea of his had caused her reaction. It was a fun kind of disturbance Robin had. To Timmy, that was what horror was all about—the fun of being scared. He’d succeeded with Robin. Hers was not one of those repulsed, critical responses he was used to getting.

  “Get any ideas from your dad?” she asked.

  “My dad?”

  “Yeah. Being the son of a deputy, you must hear stories.”

  “Not really. Seems kind of…dull.”

  Robin laughed softly. “Come on. Can’t always be dull.”

  “Dull City.”

  Robin laughed. “At least he doesn’t seem too strict.”

  “He can be.”

  “So can my old man. The worst.”

  Timmy knew her old man, and she wasn’t exaggerating. He was a demanding tyrant most of the time. But Timmy figured when it came to Robin he was probably twice as harsh but also quick to give in. How could anybody say no to her?

  “He doesn’t let me do much anymore,” she said. “I think it’s because I’m getting older.”

  “Why do you say that? Shouldn’t he be letting you do more?”

  “Not my father,” she said.

  They reached the end of the walkway, paused. Robin looked both ways. Main Street cut through in front of them, the walkway starting again on the other side. A few people wandered about. A couple cars slowly rolled by.

  What if he held Robin’s hand as they crossed the street?

  His stomach gave a sickening lurch.

  He stuck his hand in his pocket.

  Robin started across and Timmy walked with her. Their hands stayed where they had been.

  “He used to be fine with me going to my friend’s houses,” said Robin, “or going to Buck’s alone. Now he doesn’t like it as much. Says that I don’t know what people are thinking about when they see me. I know what they’re thinking. It bothers me sometimes, but I can’t stay cooped up in my room until I move out, can I?”

  Probably thinking things along the line of what Timmy had been moments ago. “No,” he said, “you can’t stay cooped up.”

  “Right. And I tell him that. He eventually gives me permission, which is good. But if he didn’t, I’d probably just sneak out anyway.”

  “You would?”

  “Totally! Have you ever?”

  “Snuck out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have?”

  “I asked you first.”

  Timmy sighed. “Never.”

  Robin’s shoulders bopped up and down. “Oh, well. Bet that’s too risky with your dad. I’m sure he’d be really mad, if he caught you.”

  If he did anything bad, Dad would skin his ass and hang it on the clothesline with the bedsheets and pillowcases.

  Robin took a deep breath and kept talking. “I haven’t ever snuck out, either. I could only imagine what my dad would do to me if he caught me. I’ve wanted to, though. Haven’t you?”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her head turn toward him. He swallowed. It felt like a bubble of sharp air went down his throat. “Well…I guess I’ve never really had a reason to.”

  “I’ve been asked to,” said Robin. “Some of my friends have wanted to sneak out a bunch of times. I don’t know why. It’s not like there’s anything to do around here. Say we snuck out, then what?”

  Last Halloween night, Timmy had gone with Peter to one of the graveyards to do some snooping around. But they’d gotten spooked and didn’t stay very long. Peter thought he’d heard somebody digging. Timmy had listened, picking up the faint scraping sounds a shovel might make when it scooped out dirt. The noises had been enough to send them running back to Timmy’s house.

  But that had been close to ten o’clock, not the middle of the night. And their parents had known they were going to be out.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Wouldn’t be much to do, except wander around.”

  Robin rolled her eyes. “I told my father I wanted to go to the movies Friday night. And he gave me his typical ‘We’ll see’ answer.”

  “What’s playing?”

  “Phantom of the Rue Morgue.”

  “Rue Morgue? Like in the Poe story?”

  “Who?”

  Timmy ignored her lack of Poe knowledge. “It’s playing around here?”

  “Not too far away. You should go see it. I’m sure you’d love it.”

  “Sounds neat. But my dad’s working this weekend and my ma would never take me to that. She hates scary stuff.”

  She also hated that Timmy loved it so much.

  Robin laughed. “I see.” He stole glances of her from the corner of his eye. She looked suddenly nervous, as if working up her nerve for something. “Why don’t we go?”

  “Together?”

  Robin nodded. “Sure. They’d let you go with me, wouldn’t they?”

  Timmy didn’t see why not. His parents had known Robin all her life. She sat with him for two years any night his parents wanted to go out together. It shouldn’t matter that she was about to turn sixteen soon. They might appreciate her being there to keep an eye on him.

  But his confidence quickly dissolved into dread. Robin had asked him to the movies. They would be there together. Alone. In a darkened theater. Sitting in those seats, close together, their elbows touching. Might even share popcorn. What if their hands touched when they both reached in at the same time?

  “Is that a no?” he heard Robin say. She sounded far away.

  “What?” Timmy shook his head. “No. I mean, that’s not…a no.”

  Robin laughed. “So, no it’s a no?”

  “Right. It should be fine.”

  “Great. Want to meet at Buck’s first? Get a milkshake, then we can head out there?”

  Timmy wanted to shout his answer and spin in a circle with excitement. He held back, and only nodded. “Sounds fun to me.”

  “Maybe we can talk about the invisible maniac story some more, while we enjoy our shakes.”

  Timmy doubted he’d be able to enjoy anything. How jittery and cold his stomach felt now, he could only imagine the problems he’d have trying to drink his shake with Robin sitting across from him.

  I’m going out with Robin Hicks!

  Not that it was a date. But Timmy could pretend.

  Robin started to say something when tires squealed off to the side of them.

  Turning, Robin screamed and jumped back. Timmy saw the front end of a car heading straight for them. It made a sharp swerve and slid to a halt beside the sidewalk. He recognized the giant gold star on the door.

  Dad?

  The door flung open. Timmy’s father hurried out. He looked at Robin, then Timmy, confusion showing for a moment before something more serious replaced it.

  “Hey, Dad,” said Timmy. “Everything okay?”

  “Don’t know just yet.” He looked at Robin. “Sorry to scare you like this, but I spotted you walking and decided to stop.”

  Robin attempted a smile. “It’s all right.”

  "I need to ask you something," Dad said.

  Robin's eyebrows pushed together. "Me?"

  "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Have you seen Dorothy today?"

  Robin's head made quick side-to-side movements. "No. Why? What's wrong?"

  "Well..." Mouth tightening, Dad seemed hesitant at first. "Your aunt came home and Dorothy wasn't in the house. Her bed was a mess. Dresser drawers had been left open and ransacked. Dresses had been taken from the closet. Last person to see her was Ms. Packer from the school. She dropped her off and watched her go inside. That was over two hours ago."

  "She's gone?" asked Robin. "Dorothy's gone?"

  "Not gone. Just...we're having some trouble finding her."

  Robin looked at Timmy, her face twisting with concern. She shook her head. "No. I haven't...I saw her yesterday, but not since."

  "All right. The
way I see it, she's only been...unaccounted for no longer than an hour. But she's not with any of her friends and the condition of her room brings up some concerns."

  "Think she ran away?"

  "Not saying just yet. But..." Dad shrugged.

  Timmy couldn't imagine how Robin felt. "Is there anything we can do, Dad?"

  "Yeah. Hop in. Robin, I'm going to run you over to your aunt's house. Your mother is there, trying to help your aunt figure things out. She might feel better knowing where her daughter is during this time. Then I'm taking you home, son."

  Robin leaned against Timmy. Without thinking, he put his arm around her. When he looked at his Dad, he noticed the expression on his face was a combination of worry for Robin's cousin and pride that his son was with such a lovely girl.

  -13-

  Lying on his bed, Timmy gazed into the open pages of The Vampire’s Graveyard Kiss. He’d reached the third story in the collection. It was about a young librarian who finds an ancient book in a secret room of the library she’d recently started working in. Reading the passages, she accidentally raises a vampire from the dead.

  Timmy had already read it a few times. But he’d never noticed before how much the girl drawn in the story looked like Robin. They shared the same sunshine-colored hair that was kept away from their faces by a headband. Had the same bowed mouth with lipstick that was a dark, crimson shade. And both gals had a perfect dot above their upper lip.

  He hadn’t been able to turn the page. Seeing the girl in the comic had taken him back to this afternoon. The events replayed in his mind.

  Feels like I dreamed it.

  It had been a dream, a good one until Dad showed up. Robin had actually asked him to walk her home, and set a date for the movies on Friday. She’d even made hints about sneaking out in the middle of the night.

  Then Dad showed up and ruined it.

  Wasn’t Dad’s fault. He was just doing his job.

  Poor Robin. He wondered if Dorothy had come home yet.

  Don’t think so. Dad isn’t back.

  If things had been wrapped up, Dad would have been home by now. He’d come home when Dorothy was safe at home or he was convinced she wasn’t coming home.

  A nervous feeling trickled through Timmy. He squirmed on the bed.

  Hope she’s okay.

  Why wouldn’t she be?

  There was a soft quick tap outside his door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Timmy?” Mom’s voice.

  Timmy shot upright. He stuffed the comic book under his pillow. “Yeah?”

  “Feel like company?”

  Timmy sat up, pulled his legs close. “Um…?”

  He couldn’t remember the last time his mother had wanted to come into his room when they were home alone together. He might have been ten years old.

  “I guess so,” he said.

  His mother said something in a soft voice that he couldn’t understand. He was about to tell her he didn’t hear her when—

  “Thanks, Mrs. Worden!”

  Peter.

  Timmy could hear the floor pop as his mother walked away. The door knob turned with a quiet squeak and the door opened. Peter’s bulky form filled the doorway, cutting a wide stretch of darkness into the light that spilled on the floor.

  “Hey, Timmy.”

  “Peter.”

  Peter walked in, shutting the door. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

  Timmy looked around. His lamp was on, but other than the small glow of light it spread onto the bed, the room was black. “Uh…” He hadn’t even realized how dark it had gotten outside. They hadn’t even had dinner yet.

  As if reading Timmy’s thoughts, Peter said, “Your ma said the pot roast is almost done. Smells good too. Can I cut on the light?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Being in a dark room feels strange, you know?”

  “I guess so.”

  There was a thin click and the room exploded with brightness that made Timmy squint. He turned to Peter as the big boy came forward.

  “Why’s everybody so glum?” Peter asked.

  Timmy swung his legs over the side of the bed, leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re acting like your puppy died.”

  Peter seemed more chipper than normal, as if he’d just received wonderful news. He looked kind of goofy.

  “Well,” Timmy said, “why are you in such a good mood?”

  Peter shrugged. He walked across the room to where Timmy’s desk was. He pulled out the wooden chair, turned it so it faced the bed, and sat down. The wood popped and groaned under Peter’s weight. “I’m not in a good mood,” he said. “Just think it’s kind of—I don’t know—neat what’s going on.”

  “Neat?” Peter nodded. “You heard about it?”

  “It’s all over town. A little girl disappears; of course people are going to know about it.”

  Nodding, Timmy turned sideways on the bed, bringing up a leg and hooking its foot under the other. “Yeah. I was walking with Robin when Dad came out of nowhere and told us about it. He took her to the Clark farmhouse and brought me home.”

  “I saw him driving around on my way over. I waved, but…” Peter shook his head. “Guess he didn’t see me. Do they know anything yet?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Peter frowned, nodded. “Wonder what happened.”

  “Probably just out somewhere, you know?”

  “What if there’s a sicko running around?”

  “Caught your ma’s weirdees?”

  Peter held up his hands. “Not my ma’s. Eddie’s.”

  Smiling, Timmy shook his head. He felt lousy for goofing around with Peter while Robin’s cousin was missing.

  Not missing. Just isn’t home yet.

  Peter snapped his fingers. “Maybe Eddie did it.”

  Timmy stood up. “Yeah, right! Eddie would never. You’re a bum for even saying so.”

  “Might have her in that summer kitchen. Maybe that’s why he never lets us in there. It’s where he hides the bodies.”

  “You’ve been reading too many of Eddie’s stupid crime magazines.”

  “Have not!”

  Timmy laughed.

  The phone rang. Timmy could hear the muffled jangle coming from the den. Timmy and Peter stared at each other. The floor groaned as Mama walked through the house. She answered it on the third ring.

  Her high voice carried through the walls, though not enough to understand what she was saying. But Timmy could tell she was using that different voice of hers, the lighter one she saved just for the phone. As if she was trying to sound fancy.

  “Who do you think it is?”

  “Probably my dad.”

  Peter nodded. Gone was his smirk and eagerness. Now he looked like a kid about to enter the principal’s office.

  “Think it’s your ma?” Timmy asked.

  “I hope not. She’ll make me come home and your ma asked me to stay for supper.”

  Timmy understood why Peter wouldn’t be in a hurry to go home and eat supper at his house. His ma cooked up dishes that most people around Plainfield had never heard of. They smelled awful and tasted even worse.

  The floor of the hallway made popping sounds as footsteps came closer. The sounds stopped outside Timmy’s door.

  “Telephone, Timmy!”

  Peter looked relieved.

  “Be right there!” said Timmy. “Who is it?”

  “A girl.”

  Timmy felt a flutter in his stomach. “Thank you, Ma.”

  Peter’s eyebrows rose, lips pursed. “A girl?”

  “Ma?” said Mama. He heard her laughing as she walked away.

  Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His fat pushed bulges into his shirt. “A girl?”

  “I wonder who,” said Timmy. But he already knew and when he saw Peter’s face, figured he did as well.

  “Come on, Timmy,” said Peter. “You said you were with Robin. Who else would it be?”
r />   “Yeah,” said Timmy. “But why would she call me?”

  “I have no idea, but you better tell me all about it when you get back.”

  Nodding, Timmy walked to the door on numb legs. It felt as if he was crossing a floor of cotton. He left the room, not closing his door.

  In the hallway, he could smell Mama’s pot roast. The house seemed to be filled with its wonderful scent.

  Entering the den, he saw the chair and small table beside it. The handset was on the table, the mouthpiece and receiver in front of the base. The cord hung off the back of the table, twisted together. He sat in the chair, grabbed the handset, and put it against his ear. It felt cold against his skin. It smelled vaguely of Mama’s perfume. Through the receiver, he could hear the static-drenched sounds of voices talking all at once.

  “Huh-hello?”

  “Hi, Timmy.”

  Robin.

  “Hi,” he said, louder than he’d wanted. “How…what’s going on?”

  “It’s pretty bad over here,” she said.

  “I bet so. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” A brief pause. “I hope you don’t mind my calling. I just…I don’t know. I guess I needed to hear a friendly voice.”

  My voice.

  “I don’t mind,” he said. “I’m glad you called.”

  He thought he heard her smile. “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good. Thank you. In all this…madness, I really need a friend.”

  A friend.

  Timmy felt himself slouch.

  Better than nothing.

  “Are you still there?” asked Robin.

  Timmy blinked. “Yeah—yes! I’m here.”

  “They haven’t found her yet.”

  Timmy felt a cold hardness in his bowels. “Still?”

  “No. And now I’m getting really worried. This isn’t like her.”

  “Nobody’s seen her?”

  “Not since Ms. Packer dropped her off.”

  “So she was definitely in the house.”

  “Yeah. Nobody knows anything after that.”

  Weird.

  “But some of her clothes are missing. So is her suitcase she uses when she goes on sleepovers and some…undergarments. Aunt Carol noticed a knife was missing from the kitchen, but she couldn’t say for sure it had been there this morning when she left. So for all she knows, it’s been missing for months.”

 

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