by Glenn Rolfe
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said to the woman. She harrumphed at him and moved along.
“Sorry,” November said, her gaze drifting to the floor. She looked slightly wounded.
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t know what you were doing is all.”
She looked up, her lips making a slight upturn.
“Well, I think these should work. What do you think?”
“I think they should be fine,” he said.
“Good. Are you ready then?”
Before he could answer, she took them to the lady behind the counter and paid for them.
“Here you go, Heatstroke,” she said, slapping the green shorts to his chest. “Now we can get wet.”
He stopped panicking about his brace enough to wonder what she was going to wear. She probably had something on under her clothes.
He had to think of a way out of this without looking like a wimp or a weirdo.
The beach was just a couple minutes ahead of them. All the way his body filled with dread. How the hell could this be happening? She wasn’t even supposed to be here. He should still be at home in his bedroom playing video games or listening to music.
As they reached the sand, he remembered the bathrooms.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t go sneaking off on me,” she replied. “I’ll be waiting right here.”
He hurried to the bathroom, fished a quarter from his jeans, placed it in the coin slot on the door, and entered.
What the hell was he thinking? His original thought had been to come in here and take off his brace, but then what? He couldn’t just leave it in here. Could he? And if he walked out with it, she’d see him and ask about the ugly thing.
“Fuck it,” he said. Nobody ever used the quarter potties. They smelled awful and like this one, were a mess. There was still someone’s shit on the lid of the toilet seat and pissy toilet paper on the floor. He looked at the lock. Maybe he could lock it and step out. No one could get in, and he could find someone to open it for him after November left.
It was a terrible plan, but he wasn’t about to let her see him in this damn thing.
He undid the Velcro straps and placed the brace down in the cleanest corner.
“I hate you,” he said, talking to the brace. “But for the love of god, please be here when I come back.”
He stepped out, hit the lock button and shut the door. He plunked another coin in the slot and pulled. It wouldn’t open.
Good.
She was people watching as he joined her.
“All set?” she asked.
“Yep.”
They were on the sand, heading toward the water – he hadn’t warned her that despite her assumption that the water was still warm, they’d be lucky if it was fifty-four degrees. The Atlantic didn’t get ‘warm’ until late July, early August at best. The tide was in, which meant they had some pretty big waves – big, like warm, being a relative term when it comes to this slice of the ocean. You wouldn’t see anyone hanging ten out there tonight or any other night.
The sun was dropping at a steady rate behind them. Twilight had a firm grasp on the sky, a bruising purple, and would sooner than later turn them into a couple of shadows.
There were plenty of people still sitting on blankets and walking where the water met the land, but it was dwindling down for the day.
November pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a black bikini top. His eyes betrayed the noble knight within him and took her in. Without turning to him, she bent over and slipped her skirt down her legs to her feet. She might as well have shot him with a hormone dart. He felt his dick come to life and had to turn away and try to get myself under control before it became blatantly obvious and totally embarrassing.
“You gonna hold those all night or put ’em on?” she asked.
“I, uh….” He remembered the green trunks in his hand.
“No one’s gonna look. Just take your pants off and throw ’em on real quick.”
Under normal circumstances he would have excused himself and gone to the pay-to-piss restrooms again, but this was no normal circumstance. He didn’t want to leave her again. He dropped his jeans, grateful that his chubby had vacated the premises, and pulled on the trunks.
“Hey, look at that, I was right. Perfect fit. You look real cute, Heatstroke. Last one in has to buy lunch tomorrow.” She bolted toward the waves.
Beating her to the water, knowing how cold it would be and still diving head-first into a crashing wave proved to be either the bravest or dumbest thing he’d ever done for anyone.
The icy water attacked his flesh like a bazillion tiny, hate-filled blow darts from an indigenous tribe.
Your kind is not welcome here. Leave now or we will make it much worse for you and your friend.
Rocky exploded out of the salty water, slicked his long bangs out of his face and crossed his arms in a vain attempt to appease his frozen flesh. Goose pimples popped up like white flags to the hateful Tribe of Cold Ocean.
November’s laugh made it easier to stand there shivering to death. The fact that she stood there clapping from the shore filled him with another urge: revenge.
“Oh, I see,” he said through his already chattering teeth.
“No, no…” she said, raising one palm between them.
Rocky was too fast, and she was too busy laughing. He bolted from the sea and had her over his shoulder in seconds. He didn’t send her in alone; he was courteous enough to join her as he tossed her to the waves and dove in for another round of attacks from the Tribe of Cold Ocean.
She was already up when he stood.
Shivering, her dark lips quivering before his own, she gazed into his eyes like someone searching for a soul. They were kissing before his brain could find a chance to ruin the moment. Fireworks exploded behind them, lighting up the sky to applause and oohs and ahhs from the entire population. You couldn’t have scripted this any better. It felt like the world was sharing in the greatest moment of his life.
When their lips parted and their eyes locked, gravity abandoned, he was lost in the dark space of her gaze.
“Wow, Rocky, you’re a pretty good kisser.”
“Thanks. So are you.”
“I’m freezing.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She stepped forward. He pursed his lips, ready for another kiss, when he felt her leg behind his. She shoved him backward and bolted for the shore as his back hit the water.
He scrambled to his feet, but she was already at her clothes.
“I owe you lunch tomorrow,” she yelled back. “Meet me at the pier.”
He started for the shore as she sprinted away, pulling her shirt on as she took off.
“Oh man, am I in trouble,” he said. “Big trouble.”
The fireworks continued going off overhead. The thought occurred to him that Palace Playland waited until nine fifteen or so to set them off on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. It was dark already. He’d made his mom a promise.
He threw on his t-shirt, tossed his jeans over his shoulder, hopped into his sneakers, and headed for home.
It hit him as he reached the square. After they kissed, she’d called him by his name. The smile dropped when he looked over at the pay-to-piss potty where he’d left his back brace.
“Oh shit.”
He hurried over and tried the door. It wouldn’t budge, but at least it was still locked. He glanced around. Who the hell did he ask to help get the door open?
Serious anxiety cinched his insides as he scanned the crowd for help. There was a cop over at the DQ.
He was gonna feel like an idiot, but touching his lips and remembering her kiss, it was totally worth it.
“Hi, Officer Nelson,” he said.
“Hey, kid, what can I do for you?”
Pete Nelson was kind of a jerk to most of the kids Rocky knew, but he was always super nice to Rocky, because Uncle Arthur had helped Officer Nelson fix an old snowmobile a couple winters back. Rocky had even seen him from time to time drinking beers with his uncle on the stoop.
“I need your help. I kind of locked something important in one of the pay-to-piss porta potties.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before,” he said. “But you’re in luck.”
* * *
Officer Nelson knew the guy at the Seaside Motel, Gordon something or other, and fortunately, Gordon oversaw the crapping facilities.
It was ten o’clock by the time he walked in the front door.
Motley Crue had a song called ‘Looks That Kill’ and the expression on his mother’s face held his death sentence.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I told you to be home by dark. You had me worried sick,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. Dad came up behind her.
“You just bought yourself a day’s worth of chores,” his father said.
“Dad,” he whined.
“Never mind,” he said, waving Rocky off before he could plead his case. “Give your mother a hug and then go to your room.”
When his father busted out never mind, it was useless to resist. The Force was strong with this one.
He hugged his mother.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she whispered.
“I won’t. Promise.”
She let go, crossed her arms again, and nodded toward the hall. “Go.”
His father was already planted in front of the TV; Clint Eastwood’s Escape from Alcatraz was playing from the VCR.
Rocky only hoped that fate was nicer to him than it had been to Frank Morris.
Chapter Four
Her hair dripped as she hurried down the beach. She didn’t feel bad about leaving Rocky behind. There would be time for them, but she couldn’t risk being out with him at night for too long. Gabriel could be anywhere. Her brother wasn’t exactly what you would consider the approving type.
Her family wasn’t like other families.
After spending years hiding away from society, her father and mother moved to Ohio and had her brother, Gabriel. Eight years later, she came along. Their father passed when she was ten. Gabriel was barely eighteen when he eagerly took over as the patriarch of the household, moved them northeast and dropped the demand that they stay in the shadows.
Mother drifted into a depression. She slept most days, and nights were spent in her room. She was slow to warm to Gabriel’s more open ideas of living, but eventually she gave in and agreed that blending into the small community was best for all of them.
Gabriel enrolled November at school and made sure that she got a proper education. She wasn’t permitted to bring friends home, but between her mother and TV, she really didn’t care about people outside the four walls of their new home in Aroostook, Maine.
Once Gabriel started with their summer excursions, that’s when she really became intrigued with people. They went to places flooded with tourists, places like Ocean City, New Jersey, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and Virginia Beach, Virginia.
Each vacation bought her more and more freedom. Gabriel and Mother knew she could more than handle herself should some stranger try and take her or make her do anything she didn’t want to, but they also knew she was stealthy when she needed to be.
Last year, they wound up in York, Maine, where she discovered the wonder of boys.
And the true face of what she and her family really were. What Gabriel really was.
Monsters.
She’d hated her brother ever since. He said she’d get over it. You can’t change who or what you are. Of course, she knew what they were. She always had, but Mother and Father managed to live alongside humans for years without much trouble. They were humble, careful, and smart enough to know what would happen if anyone found out that they were vampires.
God, thinking it made her want to do another sweep of her surroundings as if someone might have the ability to read her mind. She didn’t want some beach city bastard trying to shove a stake through her chest or some religious freak burning her for Jesus.
It wasn’t quite like everyone thought. They weren’t that hard to kill. Her father suffered a heart attack. His father fell ill with pneumonia. If you shot one of them in the head or hit their vitals, that would do the trick, too. They weren’t deathly allergic to the sun, although it did tend to weaken them and make them slightly more lethargic, but November loved its warmth and the beauty it dropped on the earth. She was quite certain she would die if she couldn’t be out in the day.
They could fly, possessed above average strength, and moved faster than you could see. Drinking blood enhanced these abilities greatly. They needed to drink, but the amount to maintain health was minimal and did not have to be human. November had spent the majority of her life surviving off the occasional rabbit or fox. Her kind was able to get by for quite a while without a good dose of blood, but along with lessening the potency of their gifts, it made them more susceptible to viruses and disease.
She’d only drunk the blood of humans three times that she could recall. It was the memory of her last that still deeply saddened her.
It was Gabriel, of course, who demanded it of her. Gabriel, who in the last couple of years had taken to dressing in black, sleeping in a coffin, and even talking like some sort of noble jerk straight out of a bad Hollywood horror movie. It was almost like he was getting into character. She didn’t understand it, but figured it was maybe a strange phase he was going through. By far the worst change in him was his willingness to kill and the lack of remorse he seemed to have in doing so. He made excuses for taking lives, trying to convince her to do the same. He’d insisted that she would need the extra boost for their move here. He’d taken an elderly gentleman from a bench somewhere near Cleveland. He promised not to kill the man, to return him to where he’d abducted him, so at the time, November didn’t feel so bad. She drank until she was full, and not a drop more. Mother did the same. When it came to Gabriel’s turn, he gorged himself. When the man began to convulse, Gabriel let him go, only to then grab hold of the man’s head and snap his neck.
The awful cracking sound the man’s neck made haunted her. Gabriel claimed it had been done out of necessity. Saying they couldn’t chance the man seeing one of them again before they left and remembering what they’d done, although that seemed unlikely as they were leaving the next night.
She learned more than she wanted that day. Her brother was not like Mother, Father, or herself. He was going to be trouble. Somewhere, sometime, he would do something that would threaten their safety. She was hopeful it wouldn’t happen until he’d gone off on his own, but he’d yet to leave her and mother, claiming she wasn’t strong enough to take care of herself or Mother. That they’d be dead in short order. November knew better. Despite all his skills and arrogance, Gabriel was a coward.
* * *
Stepping from the beach to the slim path into the woods, she felt a chill sweep by and knew he was there.
She stopped and said, “You can come out.”
Gabriel dropped from the tree behind her.
“Ah, little sister, you’re getting good.”
He always acted so surprised when she knew he was there before he revealed himself. She always knew. Even last summer before he tried to ruin her life.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Now, now, no need to have a poor attitude. You should be happy I’m looking out for you.”
He snaked around her, practically whispering the last line into her ear.
She shrugged him off, turned and crossed her arms.
“I don’t need your protection.”
“Oh, darl
ing,” he said.
She hated it when he spoke this way. Calling her darling, the word spewing from his mouth like he was some sort of noble gentleman casting it upon a peasant.
He placed his hands on his hips and flipped his long black hair. “I know you think you’ve got enough defences to take care of yourself, and you do possess admirable control of your abilities, but don’t hate me for being cautious.”
“That’s not why I hate you.”
“Oh, please,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about that silly boy from last summer? Really? Is that what this is all about?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. His conceit and callousness made her seethe all over again.
He stepped forward and reached for her shoulder. November swung her arm, knocking his hand away.
Rubbing the wrist she’d struck, acting like it actually hurt him, more of a pathetic attempt to gain her sympathy, he said, “I see.”
He turned, placed his arms behind his back and gazed toward the beach with a sigh.
For the tiniest second, she almost felt bad. It was possible, a slim chance but possible nonetheless, that he was being sincere in his watching over her. Deep down, he may have meant well with all his intrusive behaviour, but he was just too self-centred and childish to understand how his actions and reactions affected others, or more precisely, how they affected her.
“I’m going home,” she said.
She left him there to brood on his own.
She was sure he’d follow her, but he did not.
She prayed that Rocky had made it home already. For the briefest of moments, she considered turning back and checking to make sure, but thought better of it. She’d never forgive herself if she led her brother right to him.
* * *
Gabriel hadn’t always been a devil.
When she was a child, he was her hero. There weren’t much worse things than seeing your idol transform into something less than that before your eyes.
Prior to their father’s passing, they were just relatively normal kids.
They ate human food, wore regular clothes, played in the woods, and even watched programmes on the black-and-white television that father brought home one day. They got one channel, PBS. They watched Mr. Rogers’ Neighbourhood, Electric Company, and Sesame Street, which featured a lovable old vampire named The Count. Seeing him there, interacting with kids, it made her childish mind believe they were more normal than they’d been taught. It showed her they could live among people and be fine. She knew better now, of course.