She was holding out a document wallet towards me. ‘Take the forms. We can be there before morning.’
It wouldn’t hurt to look at the forms, I supposed. I held out my hand. She smiled encouragingly. ‘Good, soon you’ll be safe with us, away from the damnable lure of those pathetic Kelledys.’
My outstretched arm went stiff. Teddy! How could I forget him so easily? Was I really that shallow? (Don’t answer that.)
Ms Crabtree held the leather folder perfectly still, staring expectantly at me. I looked down to break her gaze. On the coffee table between us was my hand mirror, and in the reflection I could see my hand reaching for the document wallet – which seemed to hang in the air, unsupported. I looked up and saw Ms Crabtree holding the folder in her slender white hand. I looked down: no hand. No reflection.
‘You’re a vampire!’
In an instant, she was on her feet, looming over the chair where I cowered. She smiled broadly, and her fangs flashed white at the sides of her black-lipped mouth.
‘Quite right, my laughable little Lump. I’m glad you noticed, actually. It means I get to do this—’
The last thing I saw was the leather document wallet rushing towards me, and as my world went black, I heard her laugh with sadistic glee.
The next thing I was aware of was a musty smell in my nostrils. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in some kind of large, dimly lit room with stone walls. What light there was came from a pair of filthy stained-glass windows on either side of the room. A church? The air was cold and damp. I must still be in Spatula.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I saw people bustling about at the other end of the room, moving boxes. They were dressed in black, and the four-inch-high soles of their leather boots squeaked on the stone floor. Goths!
Panicking, I tried to move, but my arms and legs were held fast. I was tied to a chair with thick, black ropes. I struggled against my bonds, but only succeeded in drawing attention to myself.
‘Mistress, she’s awake,’ one of the goths observed.
I heard footsteps, and then Ms Crabtree was standing in front of me, arms crossed as she watched me squirm. Approaching from the other end of the room was a long-haired goth, whom I recognized as one of my attackers from the park, Boz. He seemed different now, though. His skin was paler and his stride was lithe and swift. He spoke to Crabtree: ‘You see, Mistress, she’s perfect. We should have her join us.’
Ms Crabtree hissed at him, and cuffed the back of his head with her palm. ‘Silence, you dolt. You’ve been a vampire for a week, and you presume to tell me what to do?’
He cowered. ‘No, Mistress, it’s just that I sense great power within her, and with The Reshuffle so close I thought …’
‘You thought? Idiot. Smell her.’
They came close then and Boz bent over me. He pressed his face against my neck and inhaled deeply. He was ice cold, not in the beautiful, smooth, creamy way that Teddy was, but painful, like when you get your tongue stuck on a Popsicle. I struggled to turn away from him.
‘I can smell sugar, and spice, and a bunch of other things nice,’ he leered at me, then pulled back.
‘Precisely. She smells good.’ This last was pronounced with utter disdain. ‘She’s spent too much time with the Kelledys to become one of us now. She’d be a pathetic vampire, just like they are. And when The Reshuffle comes, she’d drag us down with her.’
I’d had just about enough of this, trussed to a chair and being felt up like a piece of meat by someone other than Teddy. If my arms had been free, I’d have crossed them with indignation. Also, who was the narrator here? I had no idea what they were yammering on about. It was all too much.
‘Ms Crabtree, why am I tied to this chair? We’re wasting time – I want to get on the magic train and go to Winslet University, you promised!’ I sobbed.
She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid there won’t be any magical train rides for you this evening, Heffa. You haven’t completed the “Nefarious Doings” class yet, have you? Well, here’s a free lesson. The story about me being from Winslet, that’s what we villains like to call “a trick”.’
A trick? Huh, that seemed like a lousy thing to do. My experiences so far hadn’t prepared me for situations where characters’ motivations weren’t totally obvious and superficial. How dare she take advantage of me like that? ‘So, what do you really want with me?’ I asked sullenly.
She laughed, long and loud. ‘You? We don’t want you at all, Heffa. It’s your father we’re after. He’s become quite the thorn in our side, poking his nose into our business and messing up our Emo supply. We’re going to use you as bait to lure him here.’
Hang on a cockadoody minute! This was my story, but now I was reduced to playing the role of gosh-darned hostage? I’d already had to tell Dad off for narrating, no way was I going to sit here while he stole the glory by riding in and rescuing me. Or possibly being killed by the vampires. This was the final straw. ‘Damn you, Ms Crabtree, not my father! I won’t do it. Never!’
‘How very loyal you are. I thought you might feel that way – we’ll just have to convince you, won’t we? Boz!’
Boz rushed off behind me, returning a second later carrying a large boom box, which he set up on the edge of the altar to my left. He grinned at me, cranked the volume all the way up, and pressed play.
Instantly, I was assailed by a wall of screaming guitars and machine-gun drums. I could feel my ears trying to fold themselves inside out and retreat inside my skull for protection. My vision blurred as the clangorous din threatened to shake my eyeballs from their sockets. My head thrashed from side to side and my body twitched and convulsed in agony. Finally, after about twelve seconds, I could take no more. I screamed, hardly recognizing my own voice: ‘Okay, I’ll do it, just make it stop, please!’
The cacophony ceased, and Boz was holding one of those cell-phone thingies to my ear.
‘My Chemical Romance,’ he said smugly. ‘Works every time.’
The phone rang, and after a second I heard my father’s voice in my still-throbbing ear. My words came tumbling out. ‘Dad, thank God you’re there, I’ve been kidnapped! Help me, Dad, I think they’re going to kill me!’
There was a moment’s silence at the other end of the line, and then: ‘Gee, honey, that was swell, I can tell you’ve been practicing. I almost believed you. Not like when you used to phone me from your mom’s all the time, with your tall tales about her locking you in the cellar. Now you really sound convincing. The Academy is doing a fantastic job.’
Great. Try again. ‘No, Dad, I’m not acting. I really have been kidnapped. By vampires. They’re holed up in the old church on the edge of town, and they tortured me already. Come get me, please, who knows what they might do if you don’t!’
He chuckled. ‘Sure you have, darling, by vampires. Anyway, you have a nice day. I’ve got to go and help Mrs. Pierce, she thinks there’s some kind of big scary dog in the woods out the back of her property. I’ll see you later for casserole. Bye!’ And then he hung up.
‘Is he coming?’ demanded the vampire who called herself Crabtree.
‘Um, not so much, actually,’ I mumbled sheepishly.
‘Gah, you’re even more useless than your pathetic friends the Kelledys. I don’t know why Stephfordy even bothered with this ridiculous plan. Phone calls, kidnappings … is everyone in this stupid town so dumb that they can’t follow a simple plot line?’
She began pacing angrily up and down the aisle. After a few seconds, she stopped, a conclusion seemingly reached. ‘Right, forget the trap. You three, go to his office and get it done. Nothing fancy, just kill him.’
She indicated three of the goths at the far end of the room, who were wearing large black hoodies that hid their faces. They put down the boxes they’d been carrying, turned in unison and hurried out of the church.
‘The rest of you henchmen, keep moving those boxes. I’m not paying you to stand around! Boz, perhaps our guest would like a little more music �
��’ Boz skipped eagerly back towards the stereo. ‘Not so loud this time, though, we need her alive. Also, it sounds terrible. I ask you, what’s wrong with The Sisters of Mercy? You young vampires, no taste at all.’
He looked crestfallen, but obeyed, dialing the volume down to a low screech. They stalked off together, leaving me to suffer the unbearable caterwauling. My head throbbed and my skin crawled, but the box-moving goths seemed energized by the discordant noises. Some of them started to sing along enthusiastically, and I knew then that Teddy had been right. I was in the presence of pure evil.
Teddy … Would I ever see his sweet, hard face again? I had to get away, and soon. I could feel my resistance to the music weakening. I struggled against the ropes again, but they hardly budged a millimeter. I wished I’d paid more attention to the chapter my dad had narrated; hadn’t he been tied to a chair at one point too?
I tried to search my memories for the answer, but the noise in my head was getting louder, and my thoughts were becoming jumbled and strange. Maybe I should get blue highlights in my hair? Where did you buy those cool belts made of real bullets? Should I write my suicide note in my own blood, or would that be too messy? Can’t … think … straight …
I don’t know how much time passed then, but I know I came close to losing myself forever. My mind felt tossed on a great dark ocean, but there were two simple, clear images I managed to cling on to. The first was the cover of Heffa Gets What She Wants, which showed me as I had been then: arms folded, foot stamping, my tiny face a vision of ruthless self-interest. I found the determination of that Heffa inside me still, and it buoyed me up and kept me fighting.
The second was the face of Teddy Kelledy, just after we’d kissed for the first time. He’d looked so shocked and terrified by the whole business, while I had just been getting started. The memory of that look kept me swimming for the shore. There was no way that I was going under now. I had to get back to Teddy, I had to go all the way …
My mind cleared, and I was still me. Boz’s infernal music was still playing, but it seemed to have lost its brain-twisting influence over me. My strength of character had simply been too powerful.
I was still tied to the chair, though.
Then the main doors crashed open, knocking a couple of hapless goths off their feet. In the doorway, I saw the hoodie-wearing goths that Crabtree had sent after my father. They walked forward down the aisle, one slightly ahead of the two flanking him on either side. I desperately tried to make out their expressions as they came towards me, but the dim light and their low hoods kept their faces completely in shadow.
Ms Crabtree appeared to my left and stood in front of the altar. The three assassins stood before her, but none of them spoke. The other goths gathered round eagerly. The silence continued, and I wished it would go on forever. The next words that were spoken could make me an orphan. Except for my mom, but who counted her?
‘Well?’ demanded Ms Crabtree. ‘Did you find him?’
The trio stood stock still. Maybe they hadn’t found him and were terrified of telling her? Ms Crabtree seemed content to stand and wait for an answer; patience must be one of the benefits of eternal damnation.
Then the assassin closest to me gave me a subtle, but unmistakably cheery, finger-wave. I looked closer, and realized with joyous surprise that the face lurking beneath the hood was Bobbi Kelledy’s. She grinned at me, then pointed to my left. I turned my head and saw Boz’s stereo. I looked back at Bobbi for clarification and she nodded imperceptibly, jabbing her finger towards the hard floor.
I nodded, and started shuffling my chair closer to the altar until I could lean forward and nudge the boom box with my head. A couple of good shoves was all it would take; I just needed a few more seconds. The lead assassin spoke in a gruff murmur: ‘Uh, did we find him? Did we … find … him? Let me see …’
‘Good grief, man, either you did or you didn’t. If you don’t tell me right this instant, I’m going to pull off your—’
But we would never know what part of his anatomy she was about to jerk off, as at that moment my head connected with the stereo and sent it crashing to the floor. The music stopped as it smashed to pieces on the hard stone, and Ms Crabtree turned to look at me. ‘What on earth?’
As soon as her back was turned, the three silent assassins became a blur of motion as they removed their hoodies. The other goths gasped, and Crabtree’s attention was drawn away from me. In front of her stood Jack, Teddy and Bobbi Kelledy, all smiling at her shocked expression.
If their sudden appearance was a surprise to Ms Crabtree, I couldn’t imagine what she made of their outfits. Bobbi was wearing red vinyl boots and a minidress covered in green and yellow flowers, while Jack sported a purple sequined jumpsuit. In between them was Teddy, my one and only Teddy Kelledy. He wore flared jeans, platform boots and a tie-dyed smiley-face T-shirt. His pants were held up by rainbow braces. In his hands was an acoustic guitar.
The goths were clearly dazzled by this riot of color; some of them shielded their faces, while others backed away nervously. Ms Crabtree screamed: ‘My eyes!’
‘Okay, gang, hit it!’ Teddy shouted, and he began to strum the guitar. He sang, and the others joined in with harmonies.
The effect on the goths was instantaneous. They fell to the floor, hands clasped to their ears, writhing in agony, as the Kelledys merrily warbled, ‘The sun has got his hat on …’ Then the trio sang even louder as the screams threatened to drown them out.
I didn’t like to see anyone suffer, not even the hideous goths, but I bounced excitedly in my chair. Only because I was happy to hear Teddy sing, of course. The front legs of my chair slipped over the edge of the altar, and I went tumbling face first down the steps to the floor.
Oh yes, that was how Dad got free; he broke the chair, I thought, as my head cracked against the ground.
I heard Teddy’s voice in my ear, as if from very far away. ‘Wake up, Heffa – the exciting action sequence is over and we’ve dealt with the goths off-screen so as not to endanger our PG-13 rating, but now we need you to narrate again.’
It was so comfortable down here in the dark, though. Stop bothering me, Teddy, why don’t you try narrating for once?
I heard Bobbi’s voice then. ‘It’s no use, Teddy, look at the size of that cut on her head, and that huge pool of blood on the floor. I think she might be dying. Oh well, easy come, easy go.’
‘No, Bobbi, she can’t die. I love her. I won’t let it happen. Call an ambulance. We just need to keep her alive until they get here. She needs blood. Sweet, nourishing blood. There’s nothing else to do – I’ll have to slip her my special sausage.’
I felt Teddy’s presence then, very close to me, closer than I’d ever felt him before. I heard myself mumbling, ‘Special sausage?’ and then the voices faded. I saw strange visions – fireworks exploded, flowers bloomed, a train steamed into a tunnel … Then there was nothing, just darkness and a warm, enveloping sense of satisfaction.
I woke up in a private room in Spatula Hospital. My head was bandaged, and I’d have a bruise for a couple of weeks, but the doctor assured me there was no lasting damage. He left the room, muttering, ‘Where there’s no sense, there’s no feeling,’ and then Teddy and my dad rushed in.
‘Thank jiminy, Heff, I thought I’d lost you!’ Chump cried, grabbing my hand and kissing it.
The events of earlier in the chapter were hazy, but I hadn’t forgotten about how my so-called father had totally failed to come to my rescue. I couldn’t make him feel bad, though, he was obviously distraught. I put my free hand on his shoulder comfortingly. ‘Do you believe I was kidnapped now, Dad?’
He nodded guiltily. ‘Of course I do, Heffa, Teddy told me all about it. It’s lucky that his sister saw that story on Stawker – “Local Vamp Queen Kidnaps Mystery Brunette” – or they never would have found you in time!’
‘That’s right, Dad, Teddy saved me. It’s nice to know that there’s one man in my life I can rely on.’
Chump smiled wanly, then reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a card. ‘Here, it’s from your mother. Arrived this morning.’
‘A card? I almost died, and the best she can do is a card? After all I’ve done for her. Wait, maybe it’s got money in it. Open it, Dad. How much? Fifty dollars? Twenty? A few moldy singles, at least?’
Dad shook his head, probably in despair at my mother’s thoughtlessness, and set the card on the cabinet by my bed. ‘Get Well Soon,’ it read. What a predictable sentiment.
Teddy cleared his throat, and my dad looked at his watch. ‘Anyway, Heff, I’d better get going. I need to swing by the Economart and pick up some frozen casseroles to keep me going until you’re on your feet again, and the game starts in forty minutes. I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo. I’ll come and see you again tomorrow.’
‘Thanks, Dad! Bring chocolate next time; you want me to starve to death on top of everything else?’
‘Okay, honey, goodbye now.’ He smiled as he closed the door behind him.
Teddy and I were alone together at last. I lay staring at him, taking in every detail anew. His solid, helmet-like hair, with its dashing side-parting. His noble, jutting brow. His noble, jutting jaw. His other noble, jutting parts. His pale skin, his red lips, and his taupe eyes.
He stared right back at me. I waited. It would take him a minute yet to finish mentally cataloguing all my amazing features, so numerous were they. Take your time, Teddy. Don’t forget my toes, each more adorable than the last. There we go.
‘Heffa, my darling, you are my life. If anything had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself. I knew I should never have left you alone!’ He looked angry now.
‘Teddy, you saved me. I’m safe now, here with you. That’s all that matters.’
He embraced me, and we stayed that way until the high-pitched beeping of the suddenly rapid heart monitor became annoying.
‘Just one thing, though,’ I said. ‘After I passed out, what happened?’
New Moan Page 12