Uncle Vampire (5 page)

Don't let this letter bum you out. I'm trying to be close to you, Carrie: to say what's in my heart and mind, so that I'm not a familiar stranger. I want you to really know me, and I want to know you too. Please give my love to all the family, and save a big bunch for yourself
.

Your beautiful and extremely wise big sister
,

Maggie

I folded up the letter and set it on my pillow. I felt so odd. My breath came quickly. Maggie was not coming home for Christmas. Maggie was not coming home again. This was not her home. She had turned her back and walked away, as if our family was an accident, a bloody fatality, a tragic wreck. How could she desert me? I wasn't dead! I was alive, and I needed her so badly.

I picked up the letter and read it again, then held it to my face. Maggie had touched this letter with her hands. Maggie still loved me; it said so on the paper. Maggie would always be my sister.

I let Honey read the letter. She said I was overreacting. She said: “That's what happens when people go away to college. They think they know everything.”

She and Maggie have never been close. They don't have much in common. Maggie always regarded cheerleading as if it were a joke. “It has nothing to do with skill or talent,” she said. “It's just a popularity contest.” Honey says Maggie feels that way because she wasn't pretty or popular. Which is true. She was incredibly wonderful and funny and smart, none of which counts for much at our high school.

At dinnertime, Richie didn't come to the table. He said he didn't feel like eating.

Papa started steaming. But Uncle Toddy said, “It's all right, Bill. Rich and I have an understanding.”

Mama said to me, “I hear you got a letter from Maggie.”

“Nice of her to take the time to write,” Papa said. He was being sarcastic. I wish people would say what they mean. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to start screaming. But if I said: “Can we all please be honest for once?” they'd say: “What on earth are you talking about, Carolyn? The problem is yours, not ours. If there were a problem, which of course there's not.”

I said, “She can't afford to come home for Christmas.”

“Oh, that's too bad.” Mama looked disappointed.

“Let me serve you, Doris.” Uncle Toddy filled her plate.

“I'm really not that hungry.” Mama picked up her fork and ate.

“I slave all day over a hot stove, and this is the thanks I get!” Uncle Toddy mimed exasperation. “How about you, Honey?”

“I'm starving,” she said. He heaped her plate with potatoes, meat, and salad. “Mmm, it looks delicious.” She eats like a pig. Sometimes I can't bear to have her near me.

“She didn't have to go to college back east,” Papa said around a mouthful of steak. “She could've gone out here. I can't afford to fly her all over the country. That tuition is killing me.”

“What about her scholarships and grants? Those help.” But Papa didn't hear me. Had I said the words aloud, or only thought them?

“Kids have to get away,” said Uncle Toddy. “You remember, Bill. You were young once.”

“About a million years ago,” Papa said. Honey giggled. Laughing at his jokes improves his mood.

I ate in silence, watching my uncle. I knew that he had read Maggie's letter. Would he tell my parents all the things she had written?

I said, “Why didn't you tell me that Maggie called me?”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I forgot.”

“You should've woken me up. I wanted to talk to her.”

“You need your sleep. More meat, Bill? I'll get it.” Uncle Toddy winked at me and went into the kitchen.

6

We are down in the cellar, Uncle Toddy and I. The cellar is as dark and as private as sleep.

He is honing his claws on a spinning silver wheel. Sparks fly off and glitter in his hair.

I could call out to my family, but no one would hear me. Uncle Toddy says they went away on vacation.

Why did they forget to take me with them?

I promise I won't get carsick anymore, or say I have to stop and pee. I promise I won't fight with the other kids!

“Don't cry,” he says. “They'll be back someday. Don't you want to stay with me?”

I want to say no, but my tongue fills my throat. His voice has little razor teeth. I used to love to listen to him talk, but now my ears are bleeding.

“As soon as I'm done we can have some fun. I've built you this boat,” Uncle Toddy tells me.

I'm sitting in the boat. It's tight like a kayak, with a fitted top, in case it rains. I don't like the top down; too close, I can't breathe. He folds it back. He's good with his hands. He makes gifts for the family; a bookshelf for Mama, a wine rack for Papa, a rocking horse for Honey and me. The wood's not smooth. There's a splinter in my hand. Uncle Toddy plucks it out with his teeth.

I am so confused. Is this day or night? There are no windows in the cellar. No natural light. Uncle Toddy's face glows. His skin is so white. His black cape covers his folded wings. The cape is lined with scarlet silk that feels like skin. My skin. I'm shrinking. I'm just a baby, just a little girl, drowning in my hair; it floods the boat, it leaks over the side, spills along the floor, a yellow tide rising toward the spinning wheel.

Stop! It's caught! My scalp is ripping off!

Uncle Toddy saves me. He untangles my hair. His polished claws gently rake my face.

“Almost done,” he says, “then we'll have some fun. Don't my hands look pretty?”

“Oh, yes,” I say, but I mean, oh no. His fingernails curve like question marks. Why am I so small? I'm not a baby. I want to leave the cellar. I want to escape. But the stairs to the kitchen have disappeared.

“All finished,” Uncle Toddy says. “Let's go for a ride in your new boat.” He climbs in and sits behind me.

“I can't,” I say. “I don't know how to swim.”

That doesn't matter. Uncle Toddy will save me. Even if he has to throw me in.

“I want to take you out on the lake,” he says.

There's no water in the cellar, so we must be pretending. I know about make-believe. My parents say I have a vivid imagination. They make it sound like a disease. It can be, when it's hard to tell what's real, especially when you're little and nobody believes you. I wanted to go with them, but they left me here. Why don't they love me? I promise I'll be good!

“There's no water,” I say. As usual, I'm wrong. The floor dissolves into a stream. Uncle Toddy slips an oar into the water and guides the canoe through a hole in the wall. We enter a tunnel. It is narrow and damp.

“Where are we going? Are we in the house?” It's so dark. We must be inside the walls, moving through the water pipes.

“Close your eyes,” Uncle Toddy says. “I want to surprise you.”

“I have to pee.” He doesn't hear me, although he's sitting so close his chest is pressed against my back. It's become hard to tell if I am talking or just thinking

“Carolyn, are you afraid of me?”

“No,” I say. That was true, long ago. Things were different then, and so was he.

Now I see his teeth. He's not the person I knew. Which one is the real Uncle Toddy?

“The world is a strange place,” he murmurs in my ear, as if he were reading my mind. “A strange place full of strangers. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I say. I always say yes. Especially when I don't know what he means.

“Friends are fine, but they come and go. Family is blood,” he says. “Blood is forever. That's why you're so special to me.”

“Like Grammy,” I say. He's afraid of Grammy. He cringes when I mention her name. Suddenly I want her so desperately that, wherever she is, she must feel my longing. “I want Grammy!” I cry.

“Don't be a baby. Aren't you having fun? Aren't you having a good time?”

“Yes,” I say, so he won't be angry. “But I can't see.”

“Of course you can't. Open your eyes.” His voice becomes gentle. “Carolyn, have you ever seen anything so pretty?”

The picture's inside out. It's a negative, silver defining the shapes of shadows. The lake we are riding is high in the sky. The moon is a ball shining up through the water. Trees by the shore wave their roots in the air. Or is that women with tangled hair? The sky is alive with fish. No, I've got it all turned around. The world isn't upside down; it's me. I see. It's the reflections on the water.

“I'm all mixed up,” I say, turning to Uncle Toddy. In his place is a giant red insect.

“No!” I'm screaming. “No, don't bite me!”

“For God's sake, Carolyn, I was only kidding!” Uncle Toddy removes his insect mask. “See?”

I can't stop crying. I call for Grammy. I'm saying the prayer she taught me: “Our Father, who art in heaven—”

“Quit that,” Uncle Toddy says. “You sound like an old lady.”

“I want to go home!”

“You
are
home,” he says. “Lower your voice. Do you want to get in trouble? Grammy would be mad. You're not supposed to be out at night, especially in your nightgown. You've got nothing on your feet. Where are your slippers?”

He's right, of course, Grammy would be disappointed. She wouldn't say so, but her eyes would tell me. I can't afford to lose her; she's the only one who loves me. I don't want him to see me cry, but I can't help it.

“Poor baby.” Uncle Toddy puts his strong arms around me, careful not to scratch me with his claws. “I didn't mean to scare you. It was just a joke. See, this mask looks like a bug.” He starts to put it on again.

“Don't hurt me!”

“I wouldn't hurt you. Have I ever hurt you? I would never hurt you,” Uncle Toddy says. “The thing is—stop crying and listen to me, Carolyn—the thing is, you're a vampire now too, and you might as well get used to it.”

“I'm not!” I want to jump into the lake, but I would never make it back to shore.

“Yes, you are, Carolyn. You're a vampire too. You know how it works; you've seen the movies. But it's not so bad. In fact, you'll love it. You'll never get old; you'll stay young like me. And it's not like we're evil. We don't kill anybody. The thing is, people have more blood than they need. That's why they leave some at blood banks. Really. All we want is a taste. We don't hurt anybody.”

“What about the others? Don't hurt my mother!”

“Do you think I'm a monster? I would never hurt your mama. And you mustn't hurt her either,” Uncle Toddy says sincerely. “You're so negative and crabby. That worries her, Carolyn. She's got a lot on her mind. How do you think she'd feel if she found out you were a vampire? What would Gram think?”

“They'd hate it!” I cry.

“They might even make you go away. They wouldn't understand. People have the wrong idea about vampires. This is our secret. You and I know the truth.”

His eyes pierce mine. His wings are rising. His mouth falls open like a rotting wound.

“I don't want to die!”

I wake up, shrieking, to the circle of faces: Richie, Mama, Papa, Uncle Toddy; even Grammy and Grampa are crowded around my bed.

“She's coming out of it now,” Papa says.

Mama says: “Carolyn, you had us so worried.”

Grammy doesn't say a thing. Her face is ancient with sadness.

“I was having a dream—” But it's all jumbled up. I can't explain where I've been or what I've seen.

Uncle Toddy says, “Sweetie, you've been under a strain. That's all over now. You're safe. We're here.”

“Where's Honey?”

“Asleep,” Papa says. “Don't wake her. She's so worried about you. We all are, Carolyn. You're not yourself.”

“Where's Margaret?” I ask. “I need to talk to Maggie!”

Their eyebrows shoot skyward like startled birds.

“She's three thousand miles away,” Papa says. “In Boston. Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember! Get her on the phone! I need to talk to Maggie!”

Richie looks scared. He doesn't say a word.

I say, “I dreamed I was dying. I couldn't find you. You all went away on vacation.”

“I'm sorry,” Mama says. “It's all my fault. It's in the genes. That's why you're acting so strange.”

“I'm not crazy!”

“You're not to blame. Don't worry anymore. It's all arranged.”

“What's arranged?” I sit up in bed. “What're you talking about?”

“The hospital.” Papa avoids looking into my eyes.

“Don't worry.” Uncle Toddy strokes my hair. “The ambulance is on its way.”

I pull away from his hands. “What's the matter with you people? Has everybody gone crazy?”

“Don't be scared,” Grampa says. “You'll be home for Christmas. We'll come and see you every day.”

“There's nothing wrong with me! I'm not going anywhere! You're the ones who are crazy!”

“Pills,” Uncle Toddy says. “She needs some tranquilizers.”

“Not too many,” Richie says. “They're strong.”

Fear crashes through me. I'm running through my veins, running down halls lined with locked doors, shrieking: “No, you've got to listen! This house is poisoned! He's killing us! We're all infected!”

“What are you talking about?” Papa's face is angry.

“Uncle Toddy is a vampire! He's drinking our blood!”

My grandmother collapses on the floor, dead.

“Now look what you've done! You've killed her!” Papa says.

Mama covers her face with her hands and turns away.

I'm kicking and screaming. Uncle Toddy holds me down.

“For God's sake!” he shouts. “Where's the ambulance?

He's shaking me and shaking me. My eyes snap open. Richie's frightened face is close, his hands are on my shoulders.