The Comanche Vampire

by The Comanche Vampire [Evernight] (mobi)

  “That’s dirt,” she exclaimed. “It’s not a flea. Maybe you’d better get your eyes checked, mister.”

  “Maybe I should,” he said. “Merry Christmas.” Before she could respond he backed away with a lithe tread and returned to the supermarket parking lot.

  Gorged with blood, Ned’s headache evaporated and strength surged through his body. He reached the pickup as Anne and the others came out of the grocery store, arms laden with multiple bags. Ned dashed over and took several out of Anne’s hands. “Let me carry those, honey.”

  She inquired with her eyes and he nodded. Anne’s shoulders relaxed. On the way home the three gals sang holiday songs and Ned, fueled with fresh blood, didn’t even mind. If he’d known what he’d find at the house, he might’ve savored those last few minutes of calm before the chaos hit.

  “Grandma’s here,” Sara said as they parked.

  Anne nodded. “There she is, Ned,” she said as she pointed out the small figure on the front porch. “And the uncles are here, too.”

  “Are they from your mom’s side or your dad’s?” Ned asked.

  Anne’s smile faded a little. “Well, Uncle Rodney is my mama’s baby brother, but the other four are my daddy’s brothers. Uncle Rodney’s gay and he’s brought his partner, Wallace.”

  “I bet the Delahanty uncles are straight as a range line,” Ned said. “Are they much like Bob?”

  Her mouth quirked into an odd frown as she said, “They’re like peas in a pod. They look alike, too.”

  Ned kept silent as he gathered as many of the grocery bags as he could carry. Anne took the others. Sara and her daughter were already on the porch handing out hugs. Four men who did resemble Bob joined the group and so did several women. He made a mental count, one grandmother, five uncles, four aunts and a partner, and came up with eleven additional people. “I hope they’re staying in a motel or something,” he muttered to Anne as they approached the house.

  “Most of them are over at Uncle Rex’s,” she said. “He lives in town, too and has a huge house. The rest are at the local budget motel. Uncle Rodney and Wallace are staying at a bed and breakfast inn. If anyone brought kids, they’ll bunk with Tim’s bunch in the den.”

  “So I’m stuck with David upstairs?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry, but it’s just tonight and tomorrow night.”

  With black humor, he said, “Aw, well, I can sleep in the truck if necessary.”

  Anne’s eyes snapped with sudden fire. “You’d freeze to death! Don’t even think about it,” she said. “Now be nice.” Conversation halted as they came across the porch. “Grandma, this is Ned Big Eagle.”

  “Pleased to meetcha,” the old woman said with a saucy nod. Although her hair was now iron gray, Ned saw a few faded remnants of auburn hair like Anne’s. “Are you an Indian?”

  He cut her slack because of her age. He’d been raised to revere the elders and he didn’t think she meant it as an insult. “Yes, ma’am, I’m full-blooded Comanche.”

  “I’m mostly Texan,” Grandma said. “I’m Irish, too.”

  Bob took his mother’s arm. “Mama, let’s go inside so you can sit down.”

  “I’m ready for supper,” the old woman said. “What’s Rose cookin’, anyway?”

  “She’s got lasagne in the oven, same as she does every Christmas Eve,” Bob told Grandma. “There’s French bread to go with it, too.”

  “Why can’t she fix ham and beans like I always did? It’s more American,” Grandma said as she headed into the house. Anne grinned and shrugged her shoulders so Ned forced a smile. If he managed to endure the next thirty-six hours, he figured he could put up with anything.

  “Come meet the rest of the family, Ned,” Anne said.

  “Let’s get it over with,” he said and earned a poisonous glare from Anne. Inside, the house teemed with people. He met the uncles and the Delahanty ones looked so much like Bob he knew he’d never tell them apart. Ned shook hands with Rodney and Wallace. The aunts ranged from a cool Swedish blonde, complete with accent, to a short, slender Vietnamese lady named Hong Hanh, which Anne told him meant “pink apricot flower”. Her aunts hugged and kissed Ned like he was family. One of the Texan ones, a rangy brunette whose bouffant hair had escaped the Sixties without change, squeezed his ass during their brief embrace. By supper, Tim and his family joined the festivities. After a brief introduction Ned decided Tim wasn’t as much of an asshole as Anne’s other brother.

  Ned balanced a paper plate on his knee and picked the frozen lasagne without interest. People scattered out everywhere. The dining room table brimmed full with extra chairs crammed at each corner. In the den, old and young sprawled on the couches and in the chairs. Some gathered in the fancy front room around the glittering Christmas tree and a few dined in the crowded kitchen. Ned sat at the table with Anne and Rose, glad to be away from the other groups, but he’d been as happy to spend the dinner hour upstairs. Under any other circumstance he wouldn’t have put the pasta noodles thick with tomato sauce and cheese into his mouth, but if he balked, he’d upset both Anne and her mom. He choked it down one bite at a time and although he seldom touched sweets, Ned ate a cookie to take the taste away. Anne brewed a pot of coffee and he drank a cup. Hers tasted strong and robust, the way it should.

  After the meal, half of the bunch headed off to a church service somewhere. Bob and his brothers commandeered the kitchen to play poker and drink whiskey. A few gathered in the den, to watch It’s A Wonderful Life. Rose and most of the aunts headed out to drive around and look at Christmas lights. David camped upstairs in the guest bedroom and watched the Playboy Channel. He also drank tequila shooters. Ned convinced Anne to take a ride so they’d have a few minutes alone. He’d failed to realize how much he demonstrated he wasn’t enjoying the trip until she asked, “Are you sorry you came?”

  Her woebegone voice evoked his sympathy so Ned reached over and took her hand. “No, I’m glad I came with you, honey.”

  “You haven’t said much all evening to anyone.”

  Her dart hit home, as she’d meant it to do.

  He lit a smoke, something he seldom did anywhere but outside before he replied. “I know, Anne. I don’t have a whole lot in common with any of your folks. Are you having a good time?”

  He knew she was despite the hodge podge of family members thrown together in close quarters. Ned had watched her as she talked and giggled, hugged and chatted. Her face glowed with pleasure as she interacted with her kinfolk, evidence of her deep family ties. Here, he noticed, she wasn’t his Anne or the savvy professor, but a daughter, a sister, a niece, and an aunt. The Delahantys saw a different woman than the one he knew and Ned liked his Anne better than the Rusk version. He counted the hours until he’d get her out of here, hopefully before she began nattering about department stores, football teams, and recipes. As he’d expected, she offered him a small grin. “Yes, I’m having fun. I know my family’s a lot to take at one time, and God knows I don’t love all of them but they’re mine. I know you’ve lost all your family but you understand, don’t you?”

  Ned did, so much it hurt. Her words brought back memories of his people. Despite a vastly different lifestyle, he recalled times of celebration and feasting. The familiarity, the love and laughter, the abundance of food were all the same, even if everything else wasn’t. “Yeah, honey, I do,” he told her. “And sometimes I miss all those I lost.”

  “I’m sure. Just give my folks a chance. They like you, most of them anyway and in time, you’ll become part of the family.” Her words presented her apparent commitment to a long-term relationship with him and Ned liked it. But it also scared him, because it couldn’t happen unless she accepted his truth. Without it, they wouldn’t last and he knew it.

  “I’d like that,” he said after a pause. He would, if it happened … although if they knew what he was, it would be impossible.

  Anne moved her hand from his knee to his thigh. “Then let’s go home,” she said. “I know you don’t care much
for Christmas, but if we hurry, we can watch movies with the rest of them. It’s a family tradition.”

  He hadn’t endured the last hundred and forty-odd years without the ability to deal with whatever came, so Ned nodded. “All right, honey.”

  Christmas Eve ended late, but the holiday began early. Ned, who rarely required sleep, spent the night in an armchair in the den. Anne’s nephews surrounded him, draped over the couches and tucked into sleeping bags on the floor. The oldest was fifteen, the youngest nine. Once they’d settled for the night, the room quieted. Ned had rejected sleeping in the guest room after he’d found David snoring. The room reeked of cheap booze and Ned detected the lingering aroma of puke. He sat upright in the chair, listening to the house sounds, the whoosh of the central heat as it ran, clocks on the wall, the rattle of the aged plumbing as one after another guest used the facilities, and the whine of the wind beneath the eaves. Around four in the morning, Rose banged around the kitchen. He listened as she rattled pots and pans and when he caught the first aroma of coffee, Ned joined her.

  “Well, you’re up early, bless your heart,” Rose said. “Want some coffee?”

  “I do, thanks.” He accepted the cup and took the first sip with pleasure. He’d asked Anne to load the percolator the night before so it tasted good this morning. He ate a cinnamon bun to please Rose and offered his help. He lifted the twenty-four pound turkey and roaster out of the fridge and slid it into the oven. A few hours later, he did the same with the huge ham Rose had ready and kept her company as she peeled what seemed like a bushel of potatoes. By the time anyone else rose and came downstairs, Rose had the dinner well underway and she’d made friends with Ned.

  “I’ve watched you,” she’d told him while working on the potatoes. “I see the way you look at my daughter and I see how she looks back at you. You’re no passing fancy, are you?”

  He liked her blunt honesty and gave her back the same. “I hope not. I love Anne more than I’ve ever loved any woman.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Rose replied. “So’s Bob. I don’t think he thinks a card dealer is good enough for his baby girl, but I say there’s more to life than a job. Is casino work all you’ve ever done?”

  Temptation to share his full slate of experience back to his wild Comanche days niggled at Ned but he resisted. Somehow he doubted Rose would be impressed with a list of raids he’d done, captives he’d taken, or plunder he’d gained. Instead he offered her some of the other careers he’d held over the years. “No, I’ve held a lot of other jobs. I’ve worked construction, did some rodeo, worked at a factory or two, and I’ve been a janitor. I don’t have much education, but I don’t think I’m stupid. I own my land, twenty-five acres on the edge of the Wichita National Grasslands. I don’t owe anyone and I pay my bills on time.”

  Rose beamed. “That’s pretty much what Anne said. I think you’ll do her just fine, Ned.”

  He recognized high praise when he heard some. “Thanks,” he told her.

  The gift exchange turned into a chaotic event so Ned pulled Anne aside. He gave her his gift, a braided sterling silver ring. He’d had the silversmith engrave U kamkuto nu inside the wide band. He hadn’t bothered with a box or wrapping paper, just put the ring into her hand. Her eyes sparkled with tears as Anne held it up and after she’d read the inscription, her tears poured down her cheeks. “Oh, Ned, it’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said. “Should I wear it on my right hand or my left?”

  Her question stumped him. He had no idea what significance whites put on ring position so he shrugged. “Wear it where you want, honey.”

  Anne held out her left hand to him. “Put it on,” she said. Ned slid it onto the first finger past her pinky as Anne smiled. She brushed away her tears so she could admire her hand and the ring.

  “Looks good,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. In reply, Anne threw her arms around his neck and hugged tight. They stood in the hallway at the foot of the stairs, a high traffic area, but Ned kissed her. His mouth met hers with sweetness and passion mingled. She clung to him and he would’ve kept kissing her if David hadn’t come downstairs.

  Anne tugged at Ned’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go into the living room. I put your present under the tree.”

  They plunged into the mess of discarded wrapping papers, opened and unopened gifts, and people. Anne dug beneath the branches of the Christmas tree and hauled out a box. She handed it to Ned. Over the years, he’d received a few holiday gifts, but they had always been from an employer. The token offerings had been simple and given with good intention but without emotion. He held the gift in his hands and savored the moment. Cartoon penguins cavorted across the blue paper and he hesitated to rip it. Anne’s eyes met his, ripe with expectation so he did what the others were doing. Ned removed the paper and opened the box. When he saw what lay within, his scarred heart almost shattered.

  Ned lifted out the hand-knapped stone knife with care. He ran a thumb along the edge and found it quite sharp. His fingers smoothed over the wooden handle with admiration. “It’s Osage Orange wood,” Anne said. “Do you like it?”

  “Haa,” Ned said in Comanche with emphasis. “I do, very much. Thank you. It’s made in the old way. I’ve made knives like this myself and it takes a lot of work. I can make a sheath for it and I’ll wear it often.”

  Anne’s insight and thoughtfulness touched him deep within, below his façade. He’d had no idea what she might give him, but he’d half-expected a shirt or some knick-knack. The stone knife surprised and pleased him more than he could express. He’d used such knives often, for everything from gutting game to taking scalps. Caught in recollection, he almost didn’t hear what she said. “I wanted to give you something traditional for Christmas, Ned, and I didn’t know what until I saw these knives. One of the art students at the college makes them. He’s a Comanche, too so I thought you’d appreciate it. I’m glad you like it.”

  Ned caught her hand and held it, wishing he could show her how much the gift pleased him. Surrounded by her family, though, he wasn’t comfortable expressing more. He savored the moment and committed it to memory, a good thing since the day headed south after the gift exchange. He paid little attention to the ongoing chorus of oohs and ahhs, admiring his knife and counting the hours until departure. At dinnertime, the assembled company swelled to more than forty as local relatives arrived to share the holiday meal. Temporary tables were set up throughout the house. Ned ended up at a rickety card table, knee to knee with Anne, her Goth nephew Andrew, Amber, David, and one of Anne’s Rusk cousins, a gal about the same age, named Billie Jean.

  His extreme senses enhanced all the noise and merriment. Ned’s nose picked up on all the aromas and a few odors until he became all but overwhelmed with smells. Alone, the delicious scent of roast meats and food might’ve been pleasant but combined with a dozen different varieties of men’s cologne, perfume, powders, fragrant candles, soap, and mouthwash it created a miasma so strong it threatened to drive him outdoors. The combined laughter, conversation, and other sounds echoed in his ears and he craved both solitude and silence. Under other circumstances, Ned figured he’d find Rose’s food amazing and delicious, but he lacked any appetite. The abundance of food appalled him. Despite the number of guests, they’d never eat it all in a day and he hated the potential for waste. He ate some ham, tried turkey for the first time and decided it wasn’t half bad. “What do you think?” Anne asked.

  “I liked your chicken better,” he replied with honesty. He noticed she ate ham, turkey, and some roast beef along with more side dishes than he could count.

  He nibbled around, but ate little. Ned didn’t figure anyone would notice but Andrew gazed at him and without warning asked, “Are you a vampire or something?”

  Anne choked on a hot roll and Ned dropped his fork. “What’s that?” Ned responded.

  “I wondered if you’re a vampire or what.” Andrew didn’t blink as he spoke. “You don’t eat much, my cousins said they didn’t think you slept a wink, a
nd I heard Mom talking about how ghost pale you were yesterday in the sun. I know a lot of the lore so I couldn’t help but wonder. So, are you?”

  Ned debated how to field the question. The truth wouldn’t work, although he indulged in a few moments of fantasy as he imagined what hell it would wreak on the holiday if anyone believed him. The kid’s perception surprised him and a harsh denial might fuel the fire instead of douse the flame. Before he worked out a way to answer, Anne did. “Of course, he’s not. Andrew, you’re out of line and I think you owe Ned an apology. There are no such things as vampires. You spend too much time with your head buried in some horror book or watching a movie.”

  Andrew’s face flushed around his black lips and eyes. “I just wanna know, that’s all,” he muttered. “If he’s not a vamp, he’s some kind of weirdo for sure.”

  Anne jumped to her feet with such speed the card table rocked and if Ned hadn’t steadied it with one hand, it would’ve pitched over. “That’s enough. Andrew, I suggest you drop this nonsense now and apologize or we’ll go discuss it with your mother.”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. Anne’s outburst attracted the attention of the nearest relatives but after a momentary lull in the noise, everyone returned to eating without any questions. Andrew stared down at his plate for the remainder of the meal.

  Anne put her hand on Ned’s arm. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He forced a smile. “It’s okay, no big deal. Let’s finish dinner.”

  Ned made a valiant effort but he ate almost nothing else. He turned down dessert and although he saw it upset Anne, he excused himself from the table. As he headed toward the front door, she caught up with him. “Ned, what are you doing?”

  “I’m going to take a little drive to clear my head.” He had to get out of the close house and away from Anne’s curious relatives. By the time the last dish got washed, he figured they’d all know about Andrew’s question and some would talk. They’d speculate and gossip. He didn’t want to hear it or become the object of scrutiny. “I’ll be back before long, I promise.”