by Jochen Til
»You’re very greedy,« I said. »But I’d better get you a bigger bowl first. You’ve nearly grown out of this one.«
»I don’t understand,« Beenie says. »The fish grew because he ate the bread with the blood on it?«
»Vampire blood has unusual powers,« Vira explains.
»Really?« Beenie sits up. »I never knew that. So why don’t I grow faster?«
»The powers don’t work on yourself,« says Vira. »Only on non-vampires.«
»Rats,« Beenie sighs. »I really wish I was bigger.«
»You will be soon enough,« I say.
»Oh good!« Beenie claps her hands with excitement. »But does that mean I could use my blood to make something else grow big? A unicorn! They’re so cute! Imagine! A unicorn as big as a bear! Oh, that would be sooooooooooo cool!«
»Yes,« Rhesus says, without looking up from his cell phone. »Until it mistook your head for a nut.«
»It would not!« Beenie retorts firmly. »Nuts don’t have ears, silly!«
»I don’t think you can just grow anything you like,« says Vira. »The powers of vampire blood vary a lot and there hasn’t been any proper research.«
»That’s right,« I say. »Two hundred years later, I tried to grow another fish. It never did get any bigger, but in the end it flew away. As a vampire, you never know what effect your blood will have on somebody else. So you should definitely avoid non-vampires coming into contact with it.«
»Not that you stuck to that rule, judging by the photo,« Rhesus says drily. »Your fish grew enormously.«
»Oh yes, he certainly did,« I say.
Over the next few days, I kept dripping a little blood onto Bubba’s food, and soon he could no longer fit into any of the bowls we had. After two weeks, only our bathtub was large enough to accommodate him. While I was thrilled that I finally had someone who brought a little variety into my everyday life, my parents weren’t quite as enthusiastic.
»He’ll eat us out of house and home,« groaned my father.
»And he uses so much water,« agreed my mother. »I’m the one who has to run back and forth from the well twenty times, twice a night, to fill up the tub. I won’t stand for it much longer. The fish has got to go. Would you prefer it in a soup or a casserole?«
»No!« I shouted. »You can’t do that! Bubba belongs to me! You gave him to me!«
Bubba cleared his throat. »I hope you don’t mind me butting in,« he began, because by then he’d learned to speak as clearly as any person, and had become very articulate. »Notwithstanding my fundamental opinion that every creature, and mutant fish in particular, should have the right to self-determination over their own lives, as the law currently stands, I am quite clearly under the ownership of Vlad, who thus has the exclusive and sole say over my status in this household. And believe you me, fish soup tastes terrible. I ought to know because after all, I live in the stuff.«
»Yeah!« I put in. »What Bubba said!«
»Besides, I have the unmistakable sense that I will only have to be such a burden to you for a little while longer,« he continued. »As you may have noticed, I can breathe perfectly well out of water now. I suspect that I have grown lungs. And if I am not very much mistaken, there are currently limbs within me, making their way outward. So, it may not be very much longer before I can take care of myself without your very kind assistance, which I have hitherto very gratefully received.«
My parents, who had listened to Bubba’s speech without a word, nodded mutely. They had clearly been imagining life with a pet very differently.
Three days later, Bubba stepped out of his tub and performed his first steps, still very wobbly on his new legs. It wasn’t long before he could walk, run, and jump like the rest of us. His arms developed just as rapidly, and soon grew strong. Not much later, his growth stopped completely, no matter how much more blood I gave him. By then he was quite a bit larger than my parents, who had long since calmed down, and had not turned him into soup. On the contrary, they were very pleased with this new member of our family because Bubba helped out around the castle wherever he could.
For my part, I was overjoyed by Bubba’s development. My original desire for a dog had long been forgotten because I now had so much more. I could play and romp about with Bubba, and talk to him too – the only thing he stubbornly refused to do was to fetch sticks, which he considered beneath him. Thanks to Bubba, the next four hundred years were the happiest of my life. He went everywhere with me, from vampire school to the University of Transylvania. Bubba was my best friend, my closest confidant – he was like a big brother to me. Over the centuries, however, I learned that he was not quite as happy with his life as I was. More and more often, he seemed preoccupied and sad. His mood was steadily sinking. Something was clearly not right with him. I tried to get to the bottom of what was causing it. I asked him about it point-blank, but he always answered that everything was fine. It was quite a while before I found out for myself what was causing his gloom. On our first major journey, right across Europe, I noticed that Bubba’s mood always worsened tangibly when we were close to a body of water. Then Bubba would stop for several minutes, sighing and staring into the middle distance.
»You miss the water, don’t you?« I asked him one night when we were standing on the Ponte Vecchio in Florence. Bubba nodded silently.
»No wonder,« I said, putting a sympathetic arm around him. »After all, you are a fish.«
»I was a fish once,« he said. »Now I’m … some thing.«
»You’re not,« I replied. »You’re not just some thing, you’re Bubba, my faithful companion, my best friend, my brother. That’s so much more than just some thing.«
»It’s nice to know I mean so much to you,« Bubba said. »And I’m not complaining. I love being your brother. But I still miss the water.«
»Then just jump in,« I suggested. »Slip off your clothes, hop down, and do a few laps. Take your time, I’ll wait for you here.«
Bubba groaned. »I’d love to. But I can’t.«
I looked at him, confused.
»I can no longer swim,« he declared. »I have made several attempts, but I can’t manage in the water with these limbs.«
»Oh,« I said in consternation. »A fish who can’t swim. That really is a dilemma. But not an insurmountable one. Don’t be sad. We’ll get you back in the water – I have an idea.«
I felt very sorry for Bubba and, of course, partly to blame for his problem, since it had been my blood that had torn him from the water. But at least I now knew what was making him so miserable, and I could help him.
As soon as we got back to Transylvania, I signed us both up for the nearest swimming club, and we learned to swim together. By which I mean that Bubba learned to swim. After two months, I was still frantically occupied with just not going under water. A vampire’s wings are a considerable hindrance in the water, you see. But I soon came to terms with not being able to swim. I had never been particularly keen on being in the water.
»I don’t like water either,« Beenie says. »It feels so yucky on my skin. When I’m big, I’m never going to wash.«
»You already smell like you never wash,« Rhesus teases.
»Do not!« Beenie says. »I had a bath just yesterday! And I sneaked a bit of Mom’s perfume.«
»Oh yeah? Are you sure?« asks Rhesus. »What did it say on the bottle? Eau de toilette? That was the toilet cleaner, which lives right next to Mom’s perfume.«
»It does not!« Beenie says. »That’s at the bottom of the cupboard. I know that because Mom said I shouldn’t drink it!«
»That’s right,« says Vira. »It’s poisonous. You’d get a really bad stomachache.«
»And if you don’t wash, we’ll get really bad nose-aches,« Rhesus adds.
»You will not!« Beenie insists. »I smell really, really nice! Don’t I, Grandpa? Here, have a sniff!«
She hops up onto my lap and jams herself right up against my face.
»That doesn’t smell like toilet cleaner, does it?« she asks.<
br />
»No,« I answer. »You smell lovely, Beenie.«
»What did Bubba smell like?« Vira asks. »Like fish?«
I ponder. »Only when he’d just gotten out of the water,« I say. »Otherwise, his odor was astoundingly neutral.«
»What’s neutral?« asks Beenie.
»It means he didn’t smell like anything,« explains Vira.
»Oh, I see. So neutral means boring,« Beenie says.
»Yes, that’s one way of looking at it,« I say with a laugh. »But things with Bubba were never boring.«
He really flourished once he’d learned to use his limbs for swimming. From then on, he spent several hours in the water every day, while the rest of the family were asleep, and as a result he improved steadily and soon he was exceptionally fast. It wasn’t long before he was the best swimmer in the whole of Transylvania. When circumstances permitted, I would travel with him to his competitions, although that was, sadly, not very often as they mostly took place during the daytime. But Bubba was happy, and for me that was the main thing.
When the first modern Olympic Games were held in Athens in 1896, the Transylvanian Swimming Association nominated Bubba for all three swimming events. Actually, there were four, but one was only open to the sailors on Greek warships, so Bubba wasn’t eligible. We were so proud of him, and of course we traveled with him to Athens. My father had a huge sunshade made especially for the occasion, and the three of us sheltered beneath it. Although we had to be extremely careful to make sure we were always in its shade, fortunately all the swimming competitions were held on one day. We survived unscathed – apart from one blister on my father’s shin. And he hardly even noticed that painful encounter with the sun because it occurred the first time we all leapt to our feet to cheer Bubba on, when we briefly lost control over the parasol. That day, Bubba broke three world records and won all three silver medals. It was simply sensational, the way he –
»Silver medals?« Vira interrupts. »I thought he’d won? You get a gold medal for winning the Olympics.«
»Not back then,« I explain. »Gold medals were introduced later. The victors in Athens were given silver medals, and the runners-up were awarded copper ones. There was nothing for finishing third.«
»Silver is much better than gold anyway,« Rhesus says. »You can kill werewolves with silver bullets.«
»We badly need to have a chat about your aversion to werewolves,« I say, seriously.
»If we have to,« Rhesus mutters. »But not now. I’ve just been attacked by a whole pack of the ugly beasts. Let’s hear the rest of the story about your fish.«
»Very well then,« I sigh. »But that doesn’t mean I’ll forget about our talk.«
All the medals were awarded on the last day of the games, and fortunately it poured throughout the ceremony. Bubba visibly enjoyed the crowds’ watery jubilation, and our laid-back celebrations in a little Greek taverna lasted well into the day. Sadly, this joy was short-lived. When we returned to Transylvania, the president of the Swimming Association informed us, in tears, that Bubba had been retroactively disqualified and that his victories had been permanently struck out of the Olympic history books. He had been accused of cheating because, according to the official report, his blood was a peculiar color. That was true. It had a bluish shimmer, the same as mine, but that had nothing to do with his sporting ability, which he had gained by hard work, daily training, and strict discipline.
Bubba was devastated. After all, he was no cheater. Once again, my blood had been responsible for Bubba’s misfortune. He was so deeply frustrated that he turned his back on his beloved competitive swimming forever.
To cheer him up again, I planned a journey to one of the longest rivers on Earth: the Amazon.
It was quite a while before I could convince Bubba of the merits of my plan. He had no desire to do anything at all, and he was in a very bad mood. But I somehow talked him into it and we set off. During the first leg of our journey, by ship, he barely uttered a word, just stared grumpily out to sea. But when we set out from Lima, heading overland toward the source of the Amazon, his mood improved instantly.
My original plan had been to row right down the river to Brazil in a large canoe, but as soon as we got there, Bubba came up with a different idea. He wanted to swim the whole way, towing me and my coffin. For this, he made me a special little bamboo chair, which he attached to the coffin lid. And so our adventurous voyage down the mighty Amazon began. By night, we let the current carry us downstream, and by day we sought out shady spots in the Brazilian jungle.
Those were great days; Bubba was his old self again and the bother with the Olympics seemed forgotten. We talked all through the nights about this and that and the world – they were the best conversations of my life.
If I’d known then that they would also be our last conversations, I am sure I would have made more effort to savor them. But as it was, neither he nor I could have any idea of what else would happen on that journey.
»Oh no!« cries Beenie. »Bubba had an accident! Or drowned! Or was eaten by something! Or died some way! No fair!«
»No, no,« I reassure her, hastily. »Bubba didn’t die, don’t worry. But I nearly did.«
»Oh no!« Beenie wails again. »Grandpa nearly died! That’s even worse!«
»Is not,« says Rhesus. »He’s obviously still alive, as you can see.«
»Don’t keep us in suspense like this, Grandpa!« Vira scoots over closer to me on the sofa. »Go on!«
It was on an otherwise very quiet night. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, and we were drifting calmly down the river when we suddenly heard a bloodcurdling roar from the jungle. The sounds ripping through the rainforest definitely came from a living creature – an extremely large creature, judging by the volume.
As we slowly came closer to the roaring, I decided to get to the bottom of what was causing it. I spread out my wings and flew toward the crown of a tree. Perhaps I’d be able to see who or what was making all that noise from up there.
But before I got to the treetops, something put an abrupt halt to my flight and I found myself hanging in midair. It took a moment before I realized what had happened – I was caught in an enormous spiderweb, spanning between the trees!
I tugged and pulled and struggled with all my might, but the sticky strands made it impossible for me to free myself. And then came the spider. It was enormous, bigger than me, and was crawling unstoppably toward me down the threads. Thrashing around in panic, I tried to pull myself away, but that made it all the worse. I was completely stuck.
»BUBBA,« I cried in desperation, »HELP ME!«
I had very little hope that he would really be able to help me, seeing as he couldn’t fly. And even if he could, what would he be able to do against this giant, hairy spider?
It was getting closer and closer.
»HEY!« I suddenly heard Bubba’s voice beneath me. »LEAVE MY FRIEND ALONE, YOU EIGHT-LEGGED MONSTER!«
I saw Bubba climbing up the tree. The spider heard him too, and stopped. It turned toward him. »How dare you speak to me like that?« it said. »There’s no need to be insulting – I’ve done nothing to you.«
Bubba had reached a branch on our level by then.
»You want to eat my friend,« he said breathlessly. »That’s worth an insult or two, in my opinion. I beg your pardon for my tone, however. I didn’t know that you could speak, or that you were so concerned about good manners.«
»Yes, sadly, I am often underestimated in that regard,« sighed the spider.
»Maybe things would be different if you refrained from catching and eating harmless travelers,« Bubba answered.
»Oh, do you think I do this for fun?« demanded the outraged spider. »This is purely a question of survival. I have to eat, after all. And since I grew this large, I’ve no longer been able to spin delicate webs. As a result, all the flies and beetles just escape through the big holes. I have to rely on larger prey, and your friend is the first fat morsel to fly into my web
for a long time.«
»Now you’re the one being overly insulting,« I added. »I’m neither a morsel, nor fat. I’m just a little bloated after a large midnight meal.«
»I apologize,« said the spider. »Hunger sometimes drives me to see my meals as already lifeless objects. Of course you’re not a morsel. You are a member of the vampire species, are you not?«
I nodded.
»I nibbled on a vampire once before,« the spider remembered. »It was after that that I started to grow.«
»That explains it,« said Bubba. »Vampire blood has extraordinary properties. It also caused my rapid growth.«
»Ah, I was wondering,« said the spider, fluttering the lashes on all four of her eyes. »I’ve never seen such a handsome fish up a tree before.«
»Oh, how sweet of you!« Bubba blushed faintly. »You are also very … handsome, I think.«
»Oh, you charmer,« said the spider, also blushing a little. »And I didn’t even do my hair this morning.«
Bubba stepped toward her, holding out his right hand.
»Bubba,« he said. »Bubba Fish. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. However, I am sadly unfamiliar with arachnoid etiquette. Which of your eight delightful legs should I shake in greeting?«
»Front right,« said the spider. »Always front right.«
Bubba took her front right leg and shook it gently.
»If only you would also tell me in return whom I have the pleasure of addressing, my day would be complete,« he said.
»Oh … yes … of course …« The spider was visibly embarrassed. »Tarantula. Tallulah Tarantula. Please feel free to call me Tallulah.«
»The honor is all mine, Tallulah.« Bubba bowed. »And now that we are on such good terms, I can only apologize again for my hasty assumptions and arrogance earlier.« They both laughed.
»May I offer you a cup of coffee?« asked the spider. »I picked and dried the beans myself.«