New Moan

by Stephfordy Mayo

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No, not really. Father just likes us to go to school or have jobs so we can make friends,’ Bobbi sighed.

  I was confused; as far as I could tell, they made no attempt to fit in or even talk to anyone, so why bother? My bewilderment must have been obvious, for Teddy leaned over and whispered in my ear: ‘The problem is, our friends often end up behind the back of the butcher’s shop, mysteriously drained of blood.’

  ‘How awful! Do your enemies do that to hurt you?’ I wondered aloud.

  Bobbi choked on her triple espresso, and as Jack thumped her enthusiastically on the back, I considered the situation I found myself in. Did I really want to be a vampire? Was even eternal life worth the sacrifice of losing your Eternal Cool? On the whole, I figured probably yes. I mean, duh, who wouldn’t if that was the choice?

  Charles Dickens came and took our cups away. ‘Ah, London in the fog,’ Joseph orated, ‘so many orphans unmissed, night birds nobody would bother about if they were found inexplicably eviscerated. Of course, this was before the police. I remember, one night, D’Arcy D’Acula and I cornered this darling little—’

  Teddy coughed loudly. Bobbi yawned, ‘Yes, Father, we know the story, blood was in the air that night. Can’t you quit living in the past for one gosh-darned minute? Let’s get out of here. There’s going to be a firework display tonight, we can play a game.’

  ‘How do you know?’ I asked. I couldn’t recall any mention of a firework display anywhere.

  Bobbi winked at me. ‘I Saw it,’ she whispered.

  For a moment, I wondered what she could mean. It was so unfair that Teddy’s family weren’t even trying to involve me in their in-jokes and charming family anecdotes of bloodshed and death. Then I followed her pointing finger and saw it too: a large poster on the back wall that said, ‘Firework Display – Tonite!’

  ‘What sort of games do you play?’ I asked. ‘I know one you and I could try, Teddy, we’d just need some whipped cream, maybe a cucumber—’

  ‘Think, Heffa, what kind of game would be so noisy that we’d need fireworks to drown it out?’

  I thought about it. Could he mean … with his family watching?! No, I was certain that my shy, tender, homicidally jealous Teddy would never be so crude. I searched my mind for ideas, but each seemed more ludicrous than the last. ‘Football? Basketball? Baseball?’

  ‘No, none of those, we play the ancient vampire bloodsport, as old as time itself – tiddlywinks!’ He swept me into his arms and, with his siblings on either side, we sped through the forest and up the mountainside to a large clearing overlooking all five visible streets of Spatula. The spotted dick turned uneasily inside me, and I was forced to sit down for a moment to catch my breath. ‘Of course, we used to use peasants for winks, but we gave that up years ago.’

  Teddy retrieved four manhole covers from the edge of the clearing and stacked them carefully. Jack and Bobbi disappeared into the woods, and came back carrying an uprooted hardwood tree. Jack held one end, while Bobbi chopped at the other with her hand, slicing it into even rounds of wood.

  ‘It’s usually me and Jack against Bobbi and Joseph,’ Teddy explained. ‘Are you happy watching while we squidge off?’

  I suddenly recalled that blushing was one of my favorite pastimes and reddened the attractive hue of sunset. ‘Actually, nothing would give me greater pleasure than watching you toss your squidgers.’

  Teddy hurled a manhole cover to Joseph, and the game began as the first firework erupted into the Spatula night sky and showered golden sparks around us. The slam of each squidger thrust against a wink was like a gunshot, carefully timed to coincide with the rockets shooting into the air.

  The game was exhilarating, and soon I was yawning in appreciation as Jack squopped Joseph’s wink, Bobbi subbed by accident and attempted a Bristol which fell flat, Teddy’s wink scrunged, and Joseph played a brilliant scrud. None of it meant much to me, but Stephfordy had spent ages on Wikipedia learning the rules, and was determined to put her newly acquired vocabulary to good use.

  I was roused from my attentive slumber by Bobbi’s hand on my arm. Just as well, since I was having very strange thoughts about squidgers.

  ‘Someone’s coming!’ she said.

  I looked around, but saw no sign of any coming, going, potting or indeed squidging. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I can See it … over there by the trees.’

  I followed her gaze. Sure enough, under the ominous purple light of the fireworks, a gang of shuffling creatures was lumbering into the field. Their movements were strange, almost jerky: they would strut forward a few feet, then stop and shuffle back, then advance again, their arms held stiffly before them. They seemed to be chanting something, but their words were lost amid the bangs and sparkles.

  ‘Teddy,’ I cried out, ‘where in the blazes are you in my hour of need? Come and protect me right freakin’ now, my love!’

  He was nowhere to be seen. He’d abandoned me! I clutched at Bobbi’s arm as she busily took pictures of the semi-human creatures lurching towards us, muttering something about how Biltong would totally slaughter for the snaps. The beasts’ slurred words were getting clearer above the fireworks and the rattling of the keychains and the heavy gold necklaces they wore: ‘Ains … gains … pains … brains!’

  As one of them edged forward from the crowd, I realized it wasn’t only their baggy, low-slung pants hampering their movement. Their faces were gray, their skin sloughing off. Zombies! In Spatula! Now there were three supernatural forces at play here. Anyone would think we were living on the mouth of a hellhole or something.

  I desperately tried to remember the information from the horror seminar – but to no avail. All I knew was that they were coming for me. They wanted brains and, not to blow my own trumpet, I knew very well that I was the only person in the vicinity who had any.

  Then came the voice I had been waiting for: Teddy’s dulcet tones screaming a mighty war cry. About darn time, the zombies were mere hundreds of yards away. I was in mortal danger here and not from him; my honor as well as my life was at stake. How could he let some other creature of the night ravish me and bang my brains out?

  With a great heave, Teddy tossed his squidger like a discus. It spun through the air and cut cleanly through the closest zombie’s neck, and the creature fell to the floor in a pool of medallions and green ichor. Bobbi yelped with excitement and joined her brother, tearing heads off left, right and center with swift chops of her manicured nails. Even Jack – after a few aborted attempts to bite the zombies, his siblings, and himself – got into the spirit of things and bashed their foul heads into the ground until the gray matter spilled out.

  But my eyes were only on Teddy, as he stabbed and tore and slaughtered his way through the crowd, dripping with viscous ooze and fragments of flesh, his muscles rippling, his manly features twisted into a fierce, vibrant mask of rage. I was struck once more by how naturally violence came to him – I couldn’t wait to have that power unleashed upon my delicate form. As I fanned myself thinking about it, the last zombie fell and Teddy shook his torso free of splattered soft tissue and rushed to me. ‘Heffa, are you hurt?’

  ‘No, but I nearly was, how long did it take you to come to my aid? Call yourself a good boyfriend?’ I couldn’t believe for all his powers that he’d let me come just minutes away from harm. Did he not care for me at all? No, we’d had that anxiety already. No point constantly repeating it, it would only get boring. He was just a slowpoke.

  ‘We must leave at once,’ Teddy declared, ‘Heffa’s in danger! Father, you should travel west to throw them off the scent. Bobbi, get a dark wig and pretend to be Heffa; Jack, double back and go south to confuse them further; I shall hide in Heffa’s closet and come out only when exposed. Meanwhile, Heffa must travel to Argentina and change her name to Ethel to escape detection. And then Jack can pretend to be Heffa, change clothes and hairstyles with me, move to Belarus and become a miner!’

  I looked upon him
in admiration. Such a complex, involved and fundamentally silly plan couldn’t possibly go wrong, and was certain to be exciting.

  Unfortunately, Joseph interjected just as Teddy was drawing maps on the floor for Jack. ‘All of our attackers are dead, Teddy. I know you’re a little highly strung, but there’s no one to protect Heffa from. Why don’t we just finish the game before the fireworks stop and the corpses start to smell even worse?’

  ‘I cannot; I must escort my darling safely home. Anyway, none of the winks are in the same place any more, so it would be impossible to recreate the game. Let’s just call it a draw.’ How noble and fair-minded he was, to agree upon a draw right as he was on the verge of losing.

  Bobbi grinned at me. ‘He hates accepting defeat,’ she told me, as Teddy turned to leave. I met her eyes and saw in them a kindred spirit: superficially friendly, but at heart judgmental and unforgiving. We had so much in common. I realized that Bobbi could be just like a sister to me; we could steal each other’s clothes and boyfriends and pretend to adore each other.

  I knew then, once and for all, that my future lay with the Kelledys. Maybe my mom and dad would be a little disappointed to know I’d dumped them, but I was sure they’d get over it. Neither of them could keep a thought in their heads for longer than three seconds, and they’d never lived up to my high standards anyway. Whereas the Kelledys were modest, bitchy, vain … I would fit right in.

  chapter 10

  * * *

  taken

  My house was dark as Teddy pulled up outside. I guessed Chump must be off working a case. As I reached for the handle of the car door, Teddy grabbed my wrist.

  ‘I’m still worried, Heffa, and I don’t like leaving you here alone. I don’t know what those zombies wanted, but there could be more of them around. I think I should stay with you.’

  I looked up at the dark house. Everything seemed normal enough: the wind chimes on the porch swayed in the breeze, and the evening paper lay on the path awaiting retrieval. I was still shaken by our encounter with the zombies (being undead is one thing, but did they have to be so gross about it?), but I also sensed an opportunity to demonstrate how well I reacted to adversity. I’d been criticized by Miss Shirley for ‘lacking gumption’ – well, fine, if she wanted to see gumption, I’d show her gumption. Whatever that is.

  ‘I’ll be fine, my love, honestly. Chump will be home soon, I’ll go inside and lock the door and wait for him. What could be safer?’

  ‘But the zombies were after you, specifically. What if we didn’t kill them all? What if they turn up here and I’m not around to protect you? I don’t think I could live if anything happened to you, Heffa. I know I’m not alive, technically, but even so.’

  ‘That’s so sweet of you, Teddy. I feel the same way; I’d die if we were ever parted. Look, you need to go back to help your family. You’re the cleverest and hunkiest of them all. They’re only supporting characters; they’ll never figure out what’s causing all this supernatural activity without you.’

  His face betrayed his uncertainty, but he let go of my wrist. My skin was cool where he had been holding me. He opened the door for me. ‘I suppose you’re right, darling. It does seem quite unlikely that zombies would attack a remote house anyway; Mr. Wellbord says they prefer shopping malls. Maybe I’ll swing by there for a look on the way home.’

  I kissed him on the cheek. ‘That’s the spirit, try to be proactive. Remember what Mr. McClane taught you in “Action Hero 101”.’

  He nodded and shut the car door behind me. I stood on the porch and waved him goodbye as he drove off with what I think was supposed to be a look of steely determination on his face.

  Once inside, I rushed upstairs to the bathroom. It had been another long day, and I wanted to make sure that the tiredness didn’t show on my face. Teddy said he loved me and I believed him, but there was no getting away from the age difference between us. I aged, and he didn’t. He was bound to start having second thoughts about us if my appearance slipped, if my eyes looked puffy or my forehead became wrinkled.

  After an hour of making sure that I was as pale and interesting as ever, I changed into my sweats and lay on my bed, thinking about everything that had happened today. The Kelledys were an amazing family, they’d made me feel so welcome, and they’d told me so much about themselves. They obviously really understood the importance of my role as narrator. There was an odds-on chance that Joseph was utterly insane, but that didn’t matter. He was Teddy’s father, or father/murderer, and I knew so little about their world. Who was I to judge?

  I wondered how long it would be before they realized that their ‘family’ could never be complete without me. I wasn’t much concerned by the prospect of losing my Eternal Cool, since becoming a vampire was the only way to make sure Teddy and I could be together forever. The Kelledys had seemed fairly lukewarm about the idea when I’d mentioned it at dinner, but I was sure they’d come around. I was the heroine of this story, after all.

  I knew I’d make a great vampire – I could brood with the best of them, and I supposed that, if it were absolutely necessary, I might even be able to attempt to enunciate my utterances in the same stilted way that the Kelledys did. They could do with my help in the glamor stakes, too. Bobbi really wasn’t that attractive when you looked closely, it was all make-up. Honestly, I’d give myself at least two more points out of ten than her.

  I started to plan the day it would happen. I’d be wearing a long black dress and Teddy would be standing there at the altar waiting for me. I’d walk up to him slowly, and lie down on the altar. He would climb on top of me then, and slowly his face would move towards mine. He parts his lips to show his fangs and I turn my head to one side, exposing my pale white neck to him. He moves closer and …

  I heard a noise downstairs. Just my dad coming home, surely? Or Teddy? Or maybe something worse? Whoever it was, they’d ruined the mood. I’d just have to go down there and give them a piece of my mind.

  I took my hand out from beneath the waistband of my sweats and wiped it on the sheets. I stood up, looking around for something I could use as a weapon. From my dressing table, I grabbed my hand mirror. It was a present from my mom and the handle and setting were made of solid silver. I knew it packed a punch since I’d used it a few times to explain to her why she needed to buy me all the other things I asked for.

  I crept down the stairs as quietly as I could, mirror clutched tightly and held above my shoulder, ready to strike out at whatever zombies, next-door neighbors, or other horrors awaited me. How’s that for gumption, Miss Shirley? I thought to myself.

  The hall at the bottom of the stairs was dark, but I could see light shining underneath the living-room door. That had definitely been off when I came in. I ruled out zombies; they probably wouldn’t waste time switching on the lights. I crept closer to the living-room door, calling out a tentative ‘Dad?’ as I grasped the door handle in my hand. No answer. I turned the handle, and burst into the room.

  Everything was normal. A half-eaten bag of chips was on the floor by Dad’s favorite chair. The coffee table was covered in sports and gun magazines, and sat in its usual place on the rug that had been a wedding present from my mom’s parents. The TV remote was on the arm of the sofa where I’d left it, and the woman sitting on the sofa eyed me patiently as I surveyed the room.

  Hold on a second – woman on the sofa, that wasn’t right. I looked closer. She was quite old, maybe late thirties. She was well-preserved, though. Her skin was pale, paler even than mine, and she wore a black dress which perfectly complemented her jet-black hair. I recognized the color of her lipstick as Midnight Torpor. She was sitting on the sofa in my living room like she belonged there, and something about her relaxed manner made me drop my guard. I lowered my hand-mirror cudgel and stepped further into the room.

  She smiled. ‘Ah, you must be Heffa, how lovely to meet you. Do come and sit down.’ Her voice was like ice cubes tinkling in a cocktail glass.

  I crossed the room and
sat in my dad’s chair. A nagging voice at the back of my mind told me that something was deeply wrong here, but I felt so chilled out. I tried to focus.

  ‘What the heck are you doing in my living room, lady?’

  ‘I’ve come for you, Heffa. I’ve come to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime.’

  Well, that sounded quite promising. I might as well hear her out before reaching for Chump’s samurai swords. ‘Go on then, spill it.’

  ‘I’m Ms Crabtree, and I teach at Winslet University. Perhaps you have heard of it?’

  Winslet University! Had I ever! It was only the world’s most prestigious school of fictional education, there wasn’t a character alive who didn’t dream of studying there. A degree from Winslet was a virtual passport to literary glory. No matter how dumb the story you ended up in, you’d have a mantle full of awards before you could say ‘Rose DeWitt Bukater’. I nodded eagerly, and sat forward in my chair.

  ‘Heffa, you’ve learned all you can from Miss Shirley. Come with me and I’ll take you to Winslet this very night on a magic train, and you can start to fulfill your true destiny.’

  What a great opportunity. It was what I’d been dreaming of since my very first picture book. I was on the verge of blurting out my agreement when that doubting voice piped up again. What sort of a university recruits students by breaking into their houses in the middle of the night? Something wasn’t quite right here. ‘Why are you here now, though? It’s a bit late to be filling in admissions forms.’

  ‘It’s simple; I heard that Streep were keen on recruiting you too, and I had to make sure I got to you first.’

  ‘Streep? Well, it is a good school …’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, do you really want to spend the next two years wearing a headscarf, perfecting a Belorussian accent? Or do you want to start racking up the five-star reviews? Come with me, Heffa, and I promise you, your sales figures will be so unfathomably enormous they’ll make the Bible’s look like those of Dick Cheney’s Guide to the Constitution.’