Nightlight (6 page)

“Probably a Betazoid,” I said, even though the whole discussion was moot because humans will always be too xenophobic to trust anything other than a human with executive power and you can forget about androids for any elected office, thank you media. Why did Laura ask such stupid questions? I stared hard at my shoes, suffering silently. Connecting with these small-town girls was going to be impossible.

“Hey Ednerd—want some garlic-chocolate?” asked Adam, waving a Hershey’s Bar in front of Edwart.

“Ew, gross, get that garlic away from me!” said Edwart.

“Relax, it’s just Hershey’s.” Adam strutted away in a gait not quite as manly as Edwart’s unpredictable limb-flail. But I wasn’t going to let this go by. Maybe if Edwart saw how much I already knew, he would tell me his secret.

“Wait,” I said, holding Edwart’s head and waiting until his breathing calmed down after I touched him, “The only people who don’t like garlic are—”

“Maybe I like garlic, maybe I don’t. All I know is, haven’t tried it yet and I’m not going to start today. Same with avocados.”

He ran away before I could strap him to a board and interrogate him further.

“SO WHAT DO YOU THINK OF
THIS
DRESS, BELLE?”

I was in a stiff wooden chair in a holding cell outside the mall’s dressing rooms, trapped on all sides by stretch satin. I was surprised by how quickly the other girls had broken down, offering their bodies as host to the parasitic enemy:
dress clothes
. I soberly realized that combat was inevitable. I would do what was necessary to protect my species.

“It’s very flattering,
Lucy,”
I said cautiously, not wanting to reveal how much I knew.

“What about this?” asked Angelica.

“It brings out the grey in your human brain,” I said as naturally as I would if she had one.

Angelica knitted her brow and gave me a wary look.
Her parasite was on to me
. I had to act fast.

“Angelica—Can I ask you a very personal question because I trust you as a friend?”

“Sure.”

I tried to think of something friends ask each other. “Do you ever worry that your white blood cell count is lower than your other friends? I mean, yes, your immune system is fine, but is it
the best?”

She fiddled with her belt. My tactic was working. I decided to hit her with another bonding question, forcing the parasite out with the power of human discourse.

“Isn’t it weird how girls are fifty times more attracted to men with razor-sharp canines than soft, cuddly ones? I mean, how is
that
evolutionarily beneficial! I guess because men with sharp teeth are more confident around chewy foods.”

“Does Edwart have sharp teeth?” Angelica asked. The girls giggled.

“What in the who? Who said Edwart?
Evolutionarily—
that’s what I said.
Evolutionarily beneficial
. Not
Edwart beneficial
. Geez. What, do you have a crush on him or something? Do you think he’s cute? I don’t.”

“Not cute. But nice. He’s a really nice guy.”

“He is not a really nice guy!” I shouted loyally. “He is a very dangerous man!”

The girls exchanged glances. Lucy exchanged an ominous glance for Laura’s knowing glance and Laura traded that glance for Angelica’s loaded one.

“Well, he
is
strangely quiet,” admitted Laura, astutely noting how peculiar it was for a non-vampire to be
soft-spoken. “It’s strange when people don’t shout out whatever words and half-formed ideas are incubating in their heads. Gives me the willies.”

“I agree,” said Lucy. “I heard that at his old elementary school, the bigger guys used to gang up on Edwart, day after day. One day Edwart decided enough was enough and
bam!
The bigger guys hit him even harder. After that Edwart went through a biting phase for a while because, you know. He can’t exactly hit back.” She squeezed her skinny bicep as she said this, implying that Edwart couldn’t hit back because a single blow from him would be fatal. “Of course,” she added, “that story is probably just urban legend.”

“Yes,” I agreed. It’s just urban history. “Yet I couldn’t help but remember Angelica’s warning while her mouth muscles were spasming out of any conscious control
—Beware the crown.”
“Crown” as in “dental crown?” As in, Edwart was going to go on a vampire biting spree once the dentist had fixed a few cosmetic problems? Hmm. I would have to enter this into my “reasons why dating Edwart is an extreme sport and thus a legal alternative to gym” rubric.

“So, which store are we shopping at next?” I asked as we walked out into the mall. I had noticed a kitchenware store on the way. Would that have a cookbook for vampires? It was funny—all this worrying about whether Edwart was a vampire and I didn’t even know what vampires ate.

“Whichever one carries prom dresses,” Lucy said.

I stopped in my tracks.

“Whoa, whoa hold on,” I said, digging my heels into
the sidewalk to resist forward movement like Scooby Doo, only no one was pulling me so it was more like I was walking on my heels. “There aren’t any books in dress stores.”

“We’re shopping for more clothes,” said Angelica, as casually as you’d say “good morning” to a neighbor in the olden days.

“I can’t shop for more clothes, guys. I’m a role model to 1.3 million girls—I have to prove to them that there’s more to life than clothes. There are
novels
out there. Romance novels, for every type of monster fetish.”

“Fine,” said Lucy. “Let’s split up. The three of us will continue shopping in the brightly lit, well-populated mall. Belle—you roam around alone, looking for something to read in the dimly lit alleys.”

“Great plan! I’ll see you sometime later,” I said.

“Okay. Meet us somewhere nearby at a later time!”

I searched and searched the streets for reading material to no avail. Even the grocery store, which usually carries a few well-written wine labels, failed me. They were all in pictograms.

I was about to give up when I saw a shiny racecar covered in antennae. Something about this car induced a strong feeling in me … I was seized with an urge to tow it. Nothing irks me more than a car parked in a loading zone. I wrote down the license before entering the “Computer Games and Price Elasticity for Storm-Chasers” store to my right.
Someone
was going to feel the cold hand of justice today.

“May I help you?”

A wretched old man with stink-breath was nosing his garbled moldy nose into my face. I felt bad for him. It was too late for his life to bear an impact on me, Belle Goose, Red Cross—certified babysitter.

“Do you by chance have any vampire simulation games?” I wanted to see the world through Edwart’s eyes. “Scrap that—do you have any Edwart Mullen simulation games?”

“Well I don’t know about the latter, but we’ve got plenty of the first. We’ve got your coffin-sleeping vampire simulation, your crucifix-fearing vampire simulation, your human-blood drinking vampire simulation, your above average looks but otherwise completely normal vampire simulation—”

“Ooh! That one! That’s the one.”

“Okey dokey. Just have a seat in the booth and I’ll help you out with the 3-D goggles.”

“I assume these goggles also prevent the vampire spirit from escaping once you switch out your human one,” I said, putting the goggles on and tying them tight.

“These goggles make all the green things have red shadows.”

“Right. And the fine print is that they turn you into a vampire.”

“If that’s the character you choose, yes. But permit me to suggest choosing Yoshi—a formidable underdog among an otherwise completely armed and loaded cast.”

“Yeah, sure—will do,” I said, giving my vampire character a missile launcher.

Immediately after the simulation began I felt my skin
blanching and my hair growing beautiful. I felt my teeth sharpening and my blood going dead. I had this insatiable urge all of a sudden. An insatiable urge for magnesium.

No—that wasn’t it. I wanted blood.

I ripped open the booth’s curtain, my own strength surprising me as the material swung effortlessly to the side. I was free and not even my morals could stop me.

“You!” I said menacingly, turning on the old man. I didn’t have anything against him personally, but I couldn’t control myself. Being a vampire was
difficult
. I was filled with newfound awe for Edwart, that he could walk through the hall everyday without lunging at the nearest person’s wrist and clinging to it with his teeth, as I was doing now.

The senior was old but he was strong. He flicked me off in one fell wrist circle, tearing off the goggles with five slower but persistent gestures.

As the vampire spirit escaped, I quickly came to my senses. “Whaa-aaa?” I shook the dizzies out of my head and wiped my saliva off his wrist. “That is one crazy machine, old man,” I informed him. “I hope you have a license for that.” I gathered up my things and walked out without taking the game controller I had bought. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

The sun had set now and the streets were eerily quiet except for the spooky “Whoooooo” noise I made to scare away zombies—enemies of spooks. I had to counteract this with zombie noises to scare away any spooks I might have attracted. As I wandered aimlessly through the pitch-black
alleys, I had a funny feeling I was being watched. I heard rustling, and the distinct sound of a Sega game controller waving through the air. I turned around. It was the old man, seniley whirling his merchandise. My heart began to pound, beating against my chest, pummeling my ribs and getting all braggy about its muscle strength. I was being followed.

Quick, I told myself. Try to remember what you learned from Jimbo’s Self Defense for Young Ladies. Jimbo was a beefy man with prison tats.

“Go into the nearest dark alley,” I recalled Jimbo saying. “Freeze like a rabbit or the creature you desire your attacker to mistake you for. If your attacker shouts out to you, respond politely—maybe your optimism will change his mind. If you’re about to get in an elevator with a man you feel uncomfortable spending time with in a small, escapeless room, head right in. Remember, fear is an irrational emotion you should probably ignore.”

Armed with these tips, I hung a right into the nearest dead-end, curled up into a ball and started rolling.

“Where are you luring me?” the old man taunted. “Please stand up and take your game tontroller—I can’t bend down that far.”

Just then I heard a familiar whirring. I looked up. Edwart’s body was plummeting from the roof of the nearest building. I stood up to try to save him, but he deftly aimed his body at the man, bringing him to the ground. The old man moaned and then settled himself for a little nap on the
ground, using the crux of his arm as a pillow. Old people like being given an excuse to sleep.

“Please come with me to my car, Belle,” he offered gently, limping towards me. “I mean, only if you want to.”

“Uh-uh. Not with
that
attitude.”

“Pretty please?”

I shook my head disappointedly. “What’s the magic verb form?”

“Belle,”
he groaned. “We don’t have time for this. Plus I
hate
when you make me do this.”

“Imperative
, Edwart. The magic verb form is
imperative
. You don’t have to hide your natural inclination to boss me around. I want you to feel comfortable with me, Edwart. To the point of domination.”

“Okay, okay.” He took a deep breath and pointed at me. “You,” he said stiffly, the words flowing straight from some primordial, bossy wordbank. “Come to the place where you want to go, which, hopefully, is my car, where I will be, God willing.”

“All right.”

He relaxed. “You’re not angry at me for being domineering? That wasn’t a trick?”

“No, Edwart,” I said, leading him to his car. “Get in.”

He hopped in as I started the engine for him, looking at me softly
—murderously
softly.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah—why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Are you serious, Belle? Were you not aware of what
that sick old man was trying to do?” He shook his head, seething. “You’re lucky I was on that roof all day. That old man … he was trying to sell you a Sega product.”

“What were you doing waiting for me on a roof all day?” I asked, watching his knuckles whiten at his own reference to Sega. “How could you possibly predict that he would lure me there
on top of
telepathically knowing his intentions?” I had him there—vampires only get one super talent.

“I was watching the sky on that roof,” he said quietly. “Examining Mercury through my telescope. The things I saw and heard, Belle … it’s so difficult for me to explain.”

“Try, Edwart. The only way this will work is if we’re honest with one another. Honest about Mercury.”

“It was spinning. A lot planets are out there, Belle. Spinning and spinning.”

We were quiet for a moment.

“Promise me you’ll never walk out in these streets alone again, Belle.” His face contorted in fitful rage. Suddenly, he rolled down his window and shouted, “She plays Nintendo!” He inhaled deeply. “Play Nintendo,” he breathed out. “I won’t always be here to keep you safe from Sega.”

I tried not to breathe too loud so I wouldn’t disrupt his protective ire. It was beautiful.

“Are you hungry?” he finally asked. “I know … I know we’re just friends but … we could both be friends eating dinner together, if that appeals to you. Or we could eat at separate tables and still be friends. Or eat at separate tables but be going out. I mean…” He glanced at me. “You
probably already know this because you’re a really smart girl.”

“Are you offering to take me to dinner?”

He nodded slowly.

Suddenly, my eyes started blazing and firing up. Nothing makes me angrier than when people do nice things for me. “Listen,” I said, grabbing him by the collar, “I’m the nice one. You’re the one with uncontrollable aggression. Understand?”

“Oh God,” he said, blood gushing from his nose. “Now you’ve done it, Belle—Now you’ve
really
done it. Direct phrasing gives me nose bleeds.”