A Grave Situation

by Zoey Kane

  “Oh, this?” Lenora touched her necklace. “Yes, I like cats. Never owned one, though I do like them. Funny story, my neighbor thought I killed her cat, but I could never. The gall to even think I could do such a thing.” She lightly laughed over the fact.

  “Where does this neighbor live?” asked Zo, thinking it was a sidestep way to find out where the Binger sisters lived.

  “Next door on the left of me. Of course that is a difficult description. Is she on the left when I’m looking out my front room window, or when I am standing on the walk looking at my house?”

  Claire grinned. “So which is it?”

  “Oh, it is when you are looking at my house.” Lenore squeezed her lips over a struggling smile, as if it were wicked to laugh.

  “Does the mailman ever get your mail confused with this neighbor?” Zo thought that might get some more information, being curious.

  “Ohhhh! Funny you should ask, because I ordered a Penny’s catalog and it got put into Edna’s mailbox. We both have big mailboxes because we both like catalogs.” She leaned in for further explanation. “I had a dickens of a time getting it back. Her address is 1503 and mine is 1505 Dolphin Way. The five had rubbed off or something. Well…” She stood up straight with resolve. “When she put her mail and my catalog on her porch step to go turn the water off on the other side, I ran up and snatched my catalog and then hurried into my house before she came back. She can’t prove anything!”

  Claire repeated the address in her mind, so as not to lose it.

  “Hm…” Zo hesitated. “You lead a very interesting life, for sure. But to get back to cats a moment. If you like cats, why wouldn’t you ever have one as a pet?”

  “Beth’s allergic,” she simply said.

  Claire bobbed her head in acknowledgment, keeping her mouth shut with an innocent expression.

  “You know they have medicine for that. Zyrtec.”

  “Mommm.” Claire eyed her, then said, “I’m sure she knows about that. Who wants to take allergy meds every day?”

  “Yeah, it’s too bad, because I want a cat. We live together, you know, so it’s unfortunate that I can’t have one just because she’s allergic. But that’s life, I suppose. Anyway, it was nice bumping into you.”

  “Literally,” Zo laughed.

  “I’ve got an eye appointment, so I’ll see you tonight at dinner again.”

  Zo laughed as Lenora continued on to her appointment. “Did you get that? She has an eye appointment so she will see us tonight… heh heh heh.”

  Claire rolled her eyes with a giggle. “You’re weird.”

  They walked on and turned a corner, down another street. “Did you notice?” Claire asked. “Cat hair.”

  “Cat hair?”

  “Yes. There was hair … on her blue blouse. White cat hair.” Claire paused her steps and looked back over her shoulder to make sure Lenora hadn’t turned back and was coming up behind them. “Did you see it?”

  “Goodness, no! Really?”

  “I’m pretty positive. I mean, unless it was dog hair.”

  “Yes, it could have been dog hair. I think dog hair is a little coarser. But since I didn’t see…”

  *

  Claire laid a large quilt out on the sparse, un-mowed grass. “I can’t think of a better place for a KFC picnic,” she said, after smoothing the blanket and sitting down.

  “It’s wonderful weather, too,” Zo said, pulling soft drinks out of a bag.

  They sat underneath a willow tree, wearing brand new sun hats from Cocoa’s, hot rays filtering through the branches. Hall Cemetery’s innumerable old headstones jutted up from the earth in uneven rows, some exhibiting crosses. A crow cawed in the distance. To their left, a ways away, stood a small, dirty-white chapel with a bell tower. Its barred windows were completely boarded up. Beyond the church they could see the crooked spires of Dracula’s castle.

  “After we eat,” Claire said, passing out chicken sandwiches, “I would love to go check out the church.”

  Movement in the distance caught their attention—a man wearing a dark jacket and hat walking out from around the chapel.

  “It’s Frank,” Claire said, and waved. He didn’t wave back. “He must not see us here.”

  “Frank!” Zo called.

  The man turned toward them and paused a moment, still not waving.

  “He’s purposefully not saying hi back,” Claire said.

  “He’s probably busy proving ghosts don’t exist.” Zo stood up, took her large sunglasses off, and stuck them into the V of her neckline, before tromping off.

  “Mom, what are you doing?”

  Zo stopped and said over her shoulder, “I’m going to see what he’s doing. Come on.” She waved her to join. Claire kept her rear firmly planted on the picnic blanket; she didn’t care to talk to the rude man.

  Zo didn’t give it another moment’s hesitation. She stepped around the gravestones in her bejeweled sandals and passed by a large marble mausoleum. By the time she reached Frank, he was at the back of the chapel, and the two of them were completely alone and out of sight.

  Frank didn’t even look up while he scrutinized the brick wall of the small chapel with a magnifying glass. He merely asked, “What do you want?” as he continued his search.

  Zo said, “Just wondering what you’re looking for in broad daylight. Ghosts tend to come out at night.”

  “Ghosts don’t come out ever. They don’t exist.” He got on his knees, his jeans looking the worse for wear and dirt.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know you’ve said so. I’ll have you know from personal experience they exist. The hotel—I mean home—that I own is haunted. I heard a little ceramic carousel play music at night, among other things.”

  “Uh-huh…” He sounded completely unconvinced, tracing his rough hands across some cracks. “That’s a lovely story. Now … do you mind leaving me alone?”

  “You are such a charmer.” She gawked at him, and he finally turned to eye her from head to toe.

  “Do you always like poking your nose in other people’s business?”

  “Always.”

  His eyes returned to the wall. “Evidently.”

  “Well, since you already know I’m nosey, I might as well ask you more questions.”

  “Why?” he said dryly.

  “Because I’m nosey. Duh.”

  “Right.” He stood up, opened his jacket, and put the magnifying glass away inside. As he did, Zo was certain she caught a glimpse of something else completely out of the ordinary.

  “Do you always carry stakes around?” she asked.

  “Only when there’s talk of vampires. How many other questions you got for me? Could you hurry it up? I prefer to work alone.”

  “Just a few more.” She couldn’t help but smile, teasing him. “Do you believe in vampires?”

  “Yes.”

  “Isn’t that interesting?”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t believe in ghosts, but you believe in vampires. Just a bit odd, don’t you think?”

  “No.” His dark eyes peered at her from under heavy brows. “There are some real weirdoes in the world who wouldn’t hesitate to drink the blood from your pretty neck. You understand?”

  “Then why not carry a gun? Just plain old weirdoes you can shoot dead. What’s with the stakes? Why the theatrics?”

  “This … isn’t theatrics. This is serious business.” He breathed deeply through flared nostrils and pulled one of the splintery weapons out of his jacket. “A psycho, playing the part of a vampire, wouldn’t necessarily run from a gun. Their delusions tell them they are immortal. If you need to scare them, you have to be prepared to play the game by their rules.”

  “Fair point. Why are you studying these bricks?”

  “Just checking for anything out of the ordinary. These are very interesting. These are handmade bricks. Something ya don’t see any more. As antique as a dresser. This building is solid. I doubt a tornado could knock a hole in it.” He spoke with
admiration. “Even that bell tower has been sealed up tight.”

  “Hm. You care about handmade bricks? There is nothing ghostly about that…”

  “Do you remember what Lacey said about Isobel, the supposed ghost roaming around this graveyard?”

  Zo said yes, although slightly distracted by staring at the coffee stains between his teeth. “But what’s that have to do with the chapel? There’s a connection?”

  He paused as if mentally collecting the information, then said in a low voice, “Over a hundred years ago, a woman by the name of Isobel was jilted on her wedding day right here at this church, then she disappeared. Some say vampires got her, because it was rumored she secretly kept coming back to find her groom. Wrong, of course. She ran away! Maybe murdered by some fiend in the dark. Her body is still missing until this day.”

  “Really?!” A chilling breeze wrapped around Zo, and left as quickly as it came.

  “Yes. She was never found.”

  “How can you say it was murder?”

  Frank gave a crooked closed-mouth smile. “Oh, ‘cause, you know, some women can just aggravate a man to death!”

  “Nuff said. You’ve been so charming… Bye.” She turned in her sandals with a huff.

  FOUR

  At dinner that night, Lacey arrived last, everyone sitting in the same spots as the previous evening. A couple things were very apparent: Lacey’s hair was pulled up into a ponytail, showcasing the two holes on her neck.

  Everyone’s eyes kept wandering back to the elephant in the room, but surprisingly nobody said anything. And Lacey just forked string beans with a smile as if there was nothing to hide.

  After Dracula served the last dish—white fish seasoned with lemon and rosemary—his eyes shifted to the girl’s neck as if repulsed or horrified at the sight. “Young lady,” he said, calling her with a long finger to follow, “may I have a word?”

  Her chair screeched across the floor as she stood up, wearing a baby doll dress. Her heels clacked as she exited with him.

  “How about to end our delectable meal, a little white wine to savor?” offered Beth, picking up the crystal decanter.

  Zo stood. “I think I will rinse my hands. Come, Claire, help me find the water closet.” She smiled over her choice of words.

  The thick rug down the hall made it so their steps were silent. It was Zo’s intent to listen in, if possible, to the conversation between Dracula and Lacey. If caught, she’d feign looking for the bathroom.

  It wasn’t long before the duo could quite clearly hear Dracula. “What’s with those phony marks on your neck?”

  “How do you know if they’re phony?”

  “Of course they’re phony, because the only bites by a vampire would be mine. I would know if there were any new move-ins. There aren’t.”

  “Oh, come on! You have vampire culture all around you. Are you so sure there isn’t another? Newer? Younger? Cuter? Clearly, you are not all there is to pointy teeth and hypnotic appeal.”

  “I am warning you, Lacey. Be careful or you will find yourself looking into the small, vacant eyes of the townsfolk carrying pitchforks and torches. They won’t care how innocent you claim to be.”

  “You presume … anyway, I’m having fun. If anything, I will bring you more business. The loonies will want to offer themselves as a sacrifice for an eternal, nocturnal life, etcetera, etcetera… So, chill, you ol’ drooly.”

  “Ahhhg!” Dracula waved her off in disgust.

  As Lacey walked out the door, she said over her shoulder, “And these marks are not phony, they are painful wounds! I can’t get them wet for three days.”

  She met Zo and Claire coming down the hallway. They both said at the same time, “Bathroom.”

  Then Dracula came around the corner. “Hello, ladies.”

  “Helloooo,” they responded innocently.

  Claire started, “We were just looking for—” But Dracula cut in.

  “Will you join me in the ballroom?” He entered a brass, barred elevator across the way. “I had this convenience installed for my non-flying guests.”

  Zo and Claire were tantalized by the invitation.

  The ballroom was enchanting, with tapestry wall hangings depicting Adam and Eve in Eden, scantily-covered beauties pursued by Cupid, and winding vines embracing a garden. A dark polished floor was ready to beautifully reflect the shoes of those who’d dance upon it.

  Dracula entered a numerical code on a wall keypad, nearby. Music started up, and he unexpectedly swung Zo out to dance the Tango, hands clasping, arms dramatically pointing forward. His eyes blazed as he intently searched her heavily-lashed light brown eyes.

  “You are beautiful, as is your daughter,” he said. “However, it is you I desire.”

  Lucky me, she thought dryly.

  Zo studied his face as they stepped forward to the beat—his hawk nose over thin lips, the grisly, long beard that matched his heavy eyebrows. He was nothing like Hollywood’s suave, sexy vampire. Whatever Lacey had said about hypnotic appeal didn’t make any sense. Even his eyes were hard to get lost in.

  He switched position, taking her left hand in his right hand, his pointy fingernails looking more like claws, and mastered the art of leading so well that Zo could feel the intent of his next stride. He swayed, dipped and twirled her, always catching her before she lost balance. She had to admit he was a rather suave dancer.

  She decided to have a giggle over it all. Let loose. “The next time you pull me in tight, will you show me your teeth?”

  “Oh, my lady! I would love to show you my teeth and then, after, my lips.” He leaned her back into an embrace, dipping her. He smiled, revealing fangs. He was starting to remind her of Pepé Le Pew. “May I kiss you?” he pled.

  “In your dreams tonight,” she put him in his place. “I like to look before I leap.”

  He twirled her, and when he pulled her against his hard chest she wished it was someone who matched the moment. She pulled her neck back, trying to avoid getting lost in his beard.

  “You are stepping out of character,” Zo said, pulling back some more.

  “Darling, don’t you know Dracula has a sexy side?”

  “Really?”

  “Who do you think Edward Cullen was based off of?”

  “You?”

  “Bingo.”

  There went Zo’s cougar fascination with the Twilight star … at least at the moment. “Would it hurt your feelings to tell you I’m more of a Team Jacob kinda girl?”

  He snapped a finger and the fireplace went ablaze. The music also changed … to a moody, classical number. That was taken as a “No.”

  He elegantly twirled Zo back out and then rocked with her in a slow dance. “Can you honestly look into my eyes right now,” he said, “and say that you would prefer a wolf to me?”

  “That’s a tough question,” Zo replied.

  His fangs gleamed like he had waxed them. His face was serious and his eyes were dark. Then there was his scent, sweetly repulsive like he had on a lilac version of men’s cologne.

  Claire awkwardly stood off to the side, wondering if she should leave them alone, or stick around in case of a bizarre-er turn of events.

  “How many women do you woo per month, or per week here, may I ask?” Zo inquired.

  He smiled and said, “This week, just you.”

  “So Dracula’s a player?”

  “I don’t like that word. I prefer lady lover.” He dipped her down low, nearly touching the ground.

  When he pulled her back up swiftly, his scraggly beard slid down the side of her neck. She said to herself in desperation, “Oh dear.”

  Finally, he consented to take Zo back to Claire when she commented she was getting winded.

  After the two of them were walking back to their room, Claire said, “I have never seen you dance so wonderfully, Mom. He clearly had you in a dreamy trance.”

  “Shut up, sweetie.”

  (giggle)

  *

  Zo pulled t
he covers up over her neck that night. As she lay there remembering all the interesting happenings as of late, Claire started a light snore. Her thoughts drifted back to the dance with Dracula more often than not, when a little screeching sounded from somewhere.

  Outside? Bats?

  She glanced to the window, where the pale moonlight filtered through the dirty glass, before getting up and going over to it. She peered out to see if she could see the winged creatures anyplace nearby. There wasn’t even a shadow seen sweeping through the sky. It was all clear, besides some of the strange, clingy sea fog streaking around a spire, reaching toward the church.

  A figure walking through the graveyard caught her attention. As she stared, she paused her breath. Was it a male or female? By the wide back and taller frame, she suspected a man. Deciding it was Frank, she told herself to go to bed, that it was no big deal. Even if it wasn’t Frank, it was just some local nobody-in-particular doing who-knows-what. Nothing to be alarmed by at all.

  Claire turned in bed, then stirred some more, before she woke up, seeing her mother staring out the window. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Do you hear the bats?”

  The tiny screeches penetrated through the stony walls, and Claire had to say she did. “Lacey was right. Maybe they decided to bother this side of the castle tonight.”

  “I can’t see any, though.”

  “Really?” Claire got up and joined her mother, peeking outside from all angles. “Hm, maybe they are right above us, on the roof or something.”

  “Could be,” Zo agreed, then pointed. “Look, someone fooling around the graveyard at night.”

  “Frank?” guessed Claire.

  “I think so.”

  They went back to their beds, and both pulled the covers over their necks. “This is pretty creepy,” Claire said. “And that whole conversation between Lacey and Dracula was strange. I couldn’t make much sense of it, other than Dracula was mad at the marks on her neck.”

  “Yes, and she was adamant about them not being phony. She said she couldn’t get them wet for three days.”

  “Do you think, Mom, that vampire bites come with care instructions?”

  Comfort enclosed the Kanes for a while, and they eventually found sleep, until the hoarse scream of a man belted through the chamber walls from down the hall.