Nightlight

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Nightlight Page 6

by The Harvard Lampoon


  “I’m sorry, Edwart.”

  “We’re not even going steady yet!” the voice said. “I need time to get acclimated to being near you. Time to practice hand-holding, for Gosh sakes!” His head popped up between the seat and the steering wheel. “Belle, can we be totally honest with each other?”

  “Of course, Edwart. We can’t be in a relationship unless you’re totally honest about the destruction you’re capable of.”

  “Right. Well … what if I told you that I’m not capable of destruction? That I have to lift apple juice out of the fridge with no less than two hands and that I would never be able to open a jar of anything for you. What if I told you that once there was a spider in my shower and I threw cup after cup of water at it until it slowly drowned and I lived with the subsequent guilt complex for years before I became vegetarian?”

  Vegetarian in vampire-world means you drink every type of blood but human. Frankly, I think a more adequate analogy is “Kosher,” and a better method would be for a vampire word committee, similar to L’Acadamie française, to get together and come up with an original word for it. I’m not sure whom to contact about this, though. And I don’t really have time to find out. I’m pretty busy with school and stuff.

  “What if I told you,” Edwart continued hypothetically and not very relevantly, “that you are the second girl who has ever held my hand, the first being my mom? And then confessed that TV yelling reactivates my hernia? Would you still want to go out with me?”

  “Well, Edwart. Firstly, if those things were true we wouldn’t even be in the same car together,” I pointed out. “Secondly, I could never go out with a liar who lied about how he couldn’t lift ten gallons of apple juice. Frankly, I think your superhuman ability to hurl jugs of apple juice as big as cars is the most attractive thing about you. Please, Edwart,” I said, staring deeply into his soul and seeing that in his soul were many other awesome vampire secrets, “I’m the one person you can trust forever. From here on out, let’s be straight with one another.”

  He looked as if he were about to cry, obviously from the joy of casting off the terrible burden of his secrets. “Okay,” he finally said. “You got me. I am the biggest threat to your safety and if we dated, I can’t promise that I would be able to stop myself from … from …” he faltered, too ashamed to utter all the terrible things he was capable of.

  “From turning me into a deflated sack of skin?” I whispered.

  “You are strange, Belle,” he said with the comfort of someone who knows you so well that he can tease you from time to time about your flaws, which, though inexcusable, are nonetheless adorable. “You’re beautiful. But shockingly, inconceivably strange.”

  “I knew it!” I threw my arms around the air around him so he could acclimate himself to my delicious blood scent. It was grapefruit flavored.

  “I’ll come by to pick you up at seven tomorrow morning for our first Price Elasticity meeting.”

  “And what dangerous activity is that a cover for?” I asked as I got out.

  He stroked his hairless chin in silent contemplation. “You’ll see,” he finally said.

  I scampered into the house, confused but excited. Did vampires have their own special way of conjuring dollar bills? Wouldn’t that severely affect inflation? Wouldn’t price changes have zero effect on Edwart, since he has been saving money over hundreds of years?

  Then again, the economy these days.

  “Hey, Belle,” called my Dad when he heard me come in. “How was your night?”

  I didn’t answer. It would take too much explaining. He had no idea there were real vampires out there and his concern for me was nothing more than a chemical reaction in his brain to ensure gene preservation—a similar reaction to the one that caused me to find vampires so darn cute.

  6. WOODS

  I COULDN’T SLEEP THAT NIGHT. I KEPT WORRYING there was a leech outside my window. I kept worrying it was going to jump from the tree onto my window screen and then worm its way in, using its hemoglobin sensors to find where all my blood was. The problem with having great smelling blood is that everyone is going to want some. I got up and closed the window. But that only caused a whole new slew of fears, because what if the leech were already in my room? What if he and Edwart were in cahoots, and the leech was merely second banana to him, hiding under my bed until I fell asleep? One thing was for sure—I wasn’t going to stop that leech from doing its job. That’s no way to do my part for the economy. I opened the window wide and went back to bed.

  I tossed and turned for minutes. Luckily, my absentminded mother had packed the tranquilizer gun I used to use on her when she’d get in one of her moods, so I shot myself with it and slept soundly. She also packed our VCR and her diamond ring.

  Despite the tranquilizer, I was still nervous the next morning. What was Edwart going to do to me? Was I putting myself in grave danger? Why did a leech sucking my blood disgust me but not a vampire? Most importantly, how was I going to balance wearing a ball gown with not looking like I cared too much about my appearance? I ended up scratching the ball gown and going with a button-down shirt, but a girl’s button-down shirt. You can tell by the pockets.

  I heard a knock on the door and breathed in sharply. How thoughtful of Edwart to knock when he could just as easily break down the door. I opened it expectantly.

  It was the mailman, grinning at me with that typical Switchblade smile.

  “Hi,” he said. “Nice weather.”

  I shifted awkwardly. I felt comfortable talking about a lot of things, but not the weather. I didn’t quite have the terminology down, having skipped the grade in which you learn about various atmospheric conditions.

  “Yeah—the sun’s on today,” I guessed tentatively.

  “Well, you tell your dad I said hello.”

  It was then that I finally understood. He was in love with me. It was all there—the doorbell ringing, the door standing, the showing off with his weather knowledge. Were there no other girls in this town to diffuse the responsibility of being loved?

  I took the one letter he had for us. It was from the Switchblade Gas & Electric Company. I didn’t know I had admirers there too, but I wasn’t that surprised. I threw it in the trash with the IRS’s love letters and closed the door without reply.

  I went into the kitchen to have some breakfast before Edwart came. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and this was my most important day of the year. I would eat two breakfasts in recognition of this.

  Dad was in the kitchen, as usual, fumbling around with the drawers. He couldn’t even pour himself cereal! I wonder how he managed to exist by himself before I arrived.

  “Here’s a bowl, Dad,” I said.

  “A what?”

  “It’s like a plate, but with sides,” I explained. As I pulled it out of the cupboard, I accidentally flung up it towards the ceiling fan. I pulled out another bowl and gave it to my dad. He stared at it until I poured the cereal in.

  “Here, Dad. Here’s the spoon. Eat your cereal with the spoon.”

  “Thanks, Belle,” he said appreciatively. He was pretty clueless, but at least he could feed himself, which was not true of my mother. I used to do the airplane thing to feed her, but then a plane crashed near our house, and so the sound scared her. After that, I would imitate flying cars, which is roughly the same sound, but on a lower register.

  “So, Belle, what’s new today?”

  “Dad,” I said, grasping his hands and looking directly into his eyes. “I’m in the deepest love that has ever occurred in the history of the world.”

  “Gosh, Belle. When someone asks you, ‘What’s new?’ the correct answer is, ‘not much.’ Besides, isn’t it a little soon to cut yourself off from the rest of your peers, depending on a boyfriend to satisfy your social needs as opposed to making friends? Imagine what would happen if something forced that boy to leave! I’m imagining pages and pages would happen—with nothing but the names of the month on them.”

  “
If Edwart ever left, I’d find some other monster to hang out with. You know I don’t like real people. I have no social skills,” I said. “I guess I’m kind of like my dad in that way.” I smiled generously. I wasn’t usually this emotional with him, and it felt good.

  My mind shifted to my main concern. I needed him out of the house—parents were so lame when boyfriends came over. I had lots of experience with this back in Phoenix, where my mom would leave the house whenever a boy came over, forcing me to find some way to entertain him when she was the one who had invited him in the first place.

  “Hey Dad,” I said. “Why don’t you go fishing?”

  “Yeah, I think I’m supposed to go fishing today. Wasn’t that today? I thought that was today. I forget.”

  “It was today,” I said, military-strategistly, “Why don’t you try the farther fishing place? That way, you would get home later.”

  “That sounds like a pretty good idea to me!” he said. “Maybe I’ll take that wheelchair friend along with me. I like going fishing all day when you’re home,” he said as he walked out. “I’m not used to sharing a house with another person. It’s exhausting!”

  So that was that. Jim was out of the house, and he didn’t mind that I was planning to see Edwart. No one else could know we were going on a date, though. I needed to protect Edwart in case anything happened. Still, I had never gone out with such a hot guy before, so I sent a vague e-mail to the whole grade saying, “Edwart Mullen and Belle Goose Are Totally Together.”

  All of a sudden, I heard a knock on the door. I peeped through the peakhole, which is what my mom and I call the peephole because the word “peep” gives her the giggle fits.

  It was Edwart.

  “Just a sec!” I called, grabbing a few magazines and heading towards the bathroom. “I have to do some human things.”

  The bathroom is where I keep the juicer. I juiced some grapefruit onto my veins to get my characteristic, extra-yummy blood scent.

  “Belle,” he said when I finally opened the front door.

  “Edwart,” I replied, demonstrating that I, too, had spent an hour in my room, memorizing his name.

  All of a sudden, he began to laugh. Had I said something funny? Had he? How long had I been spacing out for, slowly growing conscious that my fate was in the hands of a group of college kids who’d kill me off just for a laugh. Little did they realize that I was organizing a revolt.

  “We’re wearing the same clothes,” he said. And it was true. He was also wearing a white button-down shirt—in fact, a woman’s button-down. He, too, was wearing a hair clip that looked kind of girly. I laughed with him, then stopped when I saw he looked better than me, then laughed once more because all I wanted was for him to be happy.

  “Let’s go, Belle. There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace risky.”

  “Italy?” I asked knowledgably. Despite the fact that Italians are known for their tan skin and garlic-laden cuisine, I knew from my research that the most powerful vampire family had decided to live there forever.

  “You’ll see,” he said mysteriously. “Oh, and Belle? I think it would be wise for you to change into some sturdier shoes.”

  I looked down at my feet. Sturdier than my flame-resistant space galoshes? I guess I had a pair of hiking boots.

  “You never know what’s lurking beyond acres and acres of grassy plateau…” he added, dropping another cryptic hint. “You’re also going to need an oxygen tank, a tent, an afternoon’s worth of rations and your own sherpa. We’re climbing Deadman’s Mound.”

  I shuddered. Every part of my body told me not to go on this adventure—every part but my heart, which really needed the exercise.

  “But Edwart, I don’t have any of those things.”

  “Neither do I, Belle.” He took a step forward and I breathed in his musky, Axe-drenched scent. “Without oxygen, I’ll not only be a danger to myself up there. I’ll be a liability to you.”

  He paused. I widened my eyes in fear, a good way to cover up an awkward silence that you’re unsure how to fill.

  “Do you see how risky this is?” he continued. “Me bringing you up there, without taking any safety precautions such as my anxiety medication? You, responsible for my actions for the rest of the afternoon?” He swayed woozily.

  I nodded with resolve. “My emotional well-being depends on you too much to be away from you.”

  “Thank God,” he said. “I wished you had told me that before I flushed my meds down the toilet, though. I really wished you had told me that before.” He tossed me a tiny hammock. “If at any point while we are hiking I crawl into the vegetation or other nookish space, just sling that around your shoulder and cradle me for a while.”

  I put it in my purse and unlocked my truck. I stepped up to open the door and immediately fell down. So Belle.

  “You seem exhausted,” Edwart said as we got in the car.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep that well last night.”

  “Neither could I,” he said as we sped off.

  “Yeah, those night leeches are becoming a major concern, aren’t they.”

  “Oh, Belle,” he laughed softly, “When you talk like that, I become afraid, and if you continue to do so, I will feel compelled to tell the authorities.” His laugh was like the jingle of a thousand manly sirens.

  I pulled into the parking lot at the end of our block.

  “Here we are,” I announced. “The Deadman trailhead.” I jumped out of the car, inflated my core stability ball and started my stretches.

  “Will your dad be okay if we hike off the trail?” Edwart asked. “On this road?”

  “What Jim doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” I flopped my stomach onto the ball and did the stretch where you let it go wherever it wants.

  “You didn’t inform your dad where you would be? Geez, Belle! I don’t know how much of this risk-taking I can take!” He started wheezing and his nose gushed with blood.

  “Great. And now this,” he said in the nasal voice of Alvin the Chipmunk, holding his nose.

  I brought him over to the ball and propped his head against it.

  “What if you didn’t come home before dinnertime?” he continued to chastise. “What if Jim didn’t make an extra plate of dinner for you because he thought you already ate? Then where would you be?”

  “He knows I’m with you.”

  “Fat lot of use that’ll be when we’re marooned on the road. Forever. It’s a good thing my parents inserted a chip in my arm that tells them where I am and lists the possible ways I could go missing.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, but I wasn’t really. When guys gnash their teeth and knit their brows in a broody, furious expression, it means they have found their soul mate. Plus, his anger had set off his overactive sweat glands, causing him to tear off his shirt. As he stood up to march down the road, squatting here and there to examine the terrain, the musculature of his arms wobbled like string cheese.

  In the sky was a single cloud, thin and disc-like, precisely covering the sun. I looked over at Edwart. It occurred to me that I had never seen him in direct sunlight. Interestingly enough, I had also never seen him sparkle. Could the two be related? I had a theory that sunlight drastically alters a vampire’s appearance; much like green lighting makes them appear sickly.

  “Ready when you are,” I called, peeling off a layer in the hot (but significantly not bright) heat. Edwart turned and I screamed. Yet again, he was wearing the same top as me—a white, skinny-strapped camisole. How hadn’t I noticed that until he turned around? Sometimes, the cape my imagination constantly projects onto his back distorts how I perceive reality.

  Still, Edwart had made some improvements. He had cut the shirt down the middle and applied a zipper, which he now zipped down to his belly button. His bared flesh gleamed translucent, revealing the blue veins beneath his two-haired chest. The shirt fit perfectly to his concave belly, outlining every protruding r
ib-bone and leaving nothing to the imagination. His neck radiated like a god from all the rhinestones he had glued to the top’s neckline. I looked down at my plain, zipperless camisole. I was beginning to weary of Edwart’s competitive method of wooing. We’ll see who wins the potato sack race, I though maliciously. I had been practicing for years.

  “Let’s go,” he said. We began to hike up the road on Deadman’s Mound. The road circled and circled around the sloping woods, past and re-past the straight, sloping trail. In the woods we saw some beetles and worms. I mention this because now that mammals have fled what little nature grows near civilization, we have to get excited about the small things.

  Edwart kept on referring to his map so we wouldn’t get lost. When we did get lost, he had the clarity of mind to pull out his tent so we could set up camp for the night. Then I took out my binoculars and spotted the top of the hill, twenty yards to our left. We trekked onwards until the road came to an abrupt stop in the middle of a field. A car rambled up, stopped, and made a twelve-point turn. I skipped to the middle of the field and continued skipping around and around. Never had I felt freer. Never had I belted The Sound of Music louder. It was beautiful. There were glorious weeds everywhere, and those yellow flowers that when you blow on them disappear into white flakes. It was magical. And yet, it looked strangely familiar.

  “Is this my backyard?” I asked.

  Edwart stood, leaning against a tree in the woods bordering the meadow. “No, Belle. We’re at least five minutes from your house.”

  “Oh,” I replied. I was so bad at approximation. It was a foreign situation, but it all felt oddly familiar, so familiar that I guesstimated that millions of girls around the world could identify with it. Suddenly shy, I peered over at Edwart, who was lurking in the shade, watching me prostrate in obeisance to the eight wind spirits.

  “Isn’t there something you wanted to show me?” I reminded him. “Something about Price Elasticity?” I asked, his gorgeous sunlight transformation.

  “Oh! Right. Close your eyes and count to a hundred.”

 

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