unvamped

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “I heard they broke up,” Ashleigh whispered to him. He got the feeling she was trying to get as close to him as possible and he pulled away from her.

  “I wouldn’t know,” he said, remembering who he was talking to.

  “You live next door to her. You always have. Surely you’d know something?” He turned to look at her and she winked.

  “All I know is he came to visit her a week or so ago and didn’t stay long. I haven’t seen him since,” Charles replied, hoping his short tone would give her the hint to shove off.

  A past middle-aged man walked into the room, and Pet and Mike separated and went to sit down, presumably with their respective friends.

  “Sorry I’m late everyone.” The man smiled. Charles assumed this was Mr Coleman.

  Charles decided he looked like a nice man, though he gave him a familiar odd feeling he couldn’t quite place. But, this Mr Coleman was quite unlike the manly female Mathematics teacher; Charles shuddered just thinking of Miss Mayberry.

  The lesson continued on in the same way as all of Charles’ other lessons. The teacher stood in front of the class and talked for a while, then asked some questions. Afterward there was some talking time. Charles was not entirely sure what the point of school was. He could not remember much from when his mother had taught him his letters, reading and basic mathematics. He was fairly sure that he did more work on his own while she watched, then she would direct him if he was wrong. These teachers just told the class everything they needed to know and the students were supposed to regurgitate it back to them.

  Twentieth-century mathematics was hard. There were all these squiggles all over the whiteboard mixed in with the numbers. Sometimes they did not even use numbers! How could you minus a from b? It was ridiculous! And how could you divide 656 by x? Charles reasoned that if you had one x and you divided 656 by x, then you’d have 656 x’s. He had no idea how the teacher got 82.

  Then there was English. They were studying Charles Dickens’ Bleak House. Charles wondered why on Earth they were studying such a book. He had lived through the age and he did not think it was that fantastic. How was Dickens’ portrayal of the times all that fantastic? Did Mr Coleman wish to live then? Charles would have been very happy to inform him just how uninteresting life at that time was, and how he did not see why Dickens was so great just because he told the truth about his world. It was not like his stories were full of happiness and gaiety.

  Charles would never understand humans. He had enough trouble understanding them when he was one of them. Now that he was not – well, he supposed he was again – but he could not think like one. He had no need to keep up with contemporary trends of thought and feeling. He had paid attention to things that interested him and ignored the things that did not. He could keep his simplistic, middle-ages thinking as long as he kept up to date enough to get through the night.

  What this ridiculous mathematics and studying dead author’s novels would do for human children, he could not comprehend. Children had got along just fine knowing how to farm, sew, and count on their fingers. He had got along just fine knowing how to feed from humans, stay out of the daylight and collect enough money to survive. Of course, most of his money came from his victims’ wallets. He had worked a few jobs over the years. The jobs he had done and most enjoyed did not call for any of this nonsense they were teaching at school. They relied on common sense and some basic mathematics like addition and subtraction, and certainly no letters! Why were there letters? Charles did not know why, but their inherent stupidity annoyed him greatly and he felt like ripping out Miss Mayberry’s throat…if he was brave enough to get close enough to her.

  Finally a shrill bell went off, signalling movement from one classroom to another, to and from recess and lunch, to and from school. With a great scraping of chairs and slapping of books, the class got up as one and left the room.

  As Charles gathered his things, Mr Coleman signalled to him.

  “Charles, can I see you for a moment please?”

  Charles walked up to the front of the room and Mr Coleman waited until all the students had filed out before he resumed talking.

  “I know all this is difficult for you, Charles.”

  Charles looked at him, surprised. He wondered what sort of deadbeat the human Charles was. This nonsense was not difficult, it was just stupid and worthless.

  “Oh for gods’ sake. I know about the curse and Ellie and all of that.” Mr Coleman sat down in the chair behind his desk.

  “What do you…? How?” Charles asked. Does everyone know? He took a deep breath, hoping he smelled anything but he was still in human mode.

  “I’m a witch, Charles,” Mr Coleman said, looking at Charles over the tops of his glasses.

  “I… I see. Well, that’s very nice for you,” Charles coughed.

  “My point is, I’m willing to help you out here.” Charles waited for him to go on. “You can’t go through a school of people who know you with no idea what’s going on. Now, I heard Miss Mayberry in the staff room at lunch and she said you were awful today. She thought you were a reasonably bright student before, maybe a bit unapplied, but bright. People are going to ask questions and that may out Ellie. So, I will help you adjust to school, give you some tutoring, things like that.”

  “Thanks, but-”

  “It’s not an offer, Charles. It’s what’s going to happen,” Mr Coleman said. “We start tomorrow after school. Tell Mary and Arthur that you’re doing some extra credit work. They’ll want to believe it, so they will.”

  “Okay then. Thank you, Mr Coleman.” Charles held out his hand to the man. Mr Coleman looked pleasantly surprised and shook it.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Charles.”

  Charles left that horribly useless place as fast as he could. When he got outside, the courtyard was almost empty. There were a few stragglers here and there and some seemed to be waiting for something, or maybe someone.

  He rushed out of the gates and hurried home. He did not see Pet or Lee on his way home.

  When he got home, he searched through his bag. He had been given some homework to do from the man-lady Miss Mayberry. Charles looked around his room and wondered if the human Charles still had any of his school things from previous years. He decided he would ask his mother when she got home. He shoved his book back into his bag rather unceremoniously. He did not understand any of those stupid squiggles and he did not have the patience to try.

  Mary got home at the usual five o’clock and Arthur at his usual six thirty. By then, Mary had dinner ready and they were both ready to hear about his first day of Year Twelve.

  He gave them the responses he though they would want and made sure not to forget to tell them about his ‘extra credit project’ with Mr Coleman. After he had cleaned his plate of his dinner – with a thankfully full but comfortable stomach – he bid them good night and went to bed. Mary expressed some surprise at his going to bed so early, but Arthur just teased that Year Twelve these days must be more tiring than he remembered.

  ****

  “Charlie, why do I need to learn the letters and the numbers?” Henri whined, putting his little blond head on the table. Charles smiled and patted him.

  “So you can read, and count the wheat and the money, and help your wife run the house,” he answered. He hid the catch in his throat he always got at the word ‘wife’.

  “Yuck!” Oliver made a gagging noise. “I’m never getting married!”

  “Not even to Emma?” Charles teased, tickling Oliver. Really, at nine, Oliver thought he was a bit past the tickling age, but Charles could not help it sometimes.

  “Not even to Emma!” Oliver agreed.

  “I might marry Emma…” Henri’s small voice piped up. Charles smiled at him fondly and Henri smiled back. Charles often thought Henri acted very sombre for his short five years of life.

  “So you might, little man, so you might.” Charles looked at Henri a moment longer, fondness
for his little brothers making his heart swell.

  “Will you get married again?” Henri asked with the open, honest curiosity of the very young.

  Before Charles could reply, their mother turned away from the washing bucket, wiping her hands on a piece of cloth. “You’re not playing up for Charlie, are you boys?”

  “No, Mama,” Oliver and Henri chorused.

  “Charles?” She looked at him.

  “No, Mama, they are behaving well.” He smiled at her knowingly. “Now, read me this again.” He pointed to the sentence Oliver had written moments ago.

  Henri squinted in the candle light. “C…Charles… I know that one!” Henri smiled triumphantly.

  “Yes, you do. Keep going.”

  “Charles…s-sat w-wi…with…” Henri looked up from the page as there was a knock on the door.

  Charles looked at his mother, motioning for her to stay where she was. He was the master of the house now, and it was his job to look after the family.

  Charles warily approached the door. It was dark out and they lived a fair distance from their neighbours, but it could still be a neighbour at the door.

  The visitor knocked again just before Charles opened the door. On the other side was a man who looked to be in his late forties, impeccably dressed – which was incredibly rare around there – with a hat sitting primly on his head and a cane in his hand. He took off his hat and made a sweeping bow.

  “Richard de Savage.” He looked Charles directly in the eyes. “Would you and your family mind aiding a lost stranger?”

  Charles hesitated. There was no harm in helping a stranger, true, but this one gave him an odd feeling.

  “Charles, do not just leave him out there in the cold and the dark.” His mother bustled over to the door and nudged him out of the way. “Come in, sir. I am sorry we cannot…”

  Charles stopped listening to his mother’s voice as Richard de Savage stepped over the threshold of their house. It was not his coming inside that bothered Charles, per se, but the look de Savage gave him. The knowing smile that bored right into Charles and pierced his heart.

  Charles woke, opening his eyes slowly, the image of de Savage still in his mind’s eye. He sighed and rolled over.

  De Savage…

  The one man Charles had always truly hated.

  Chapter Eleven

  L

  ee sighed ungracefully as he walked into the school grounds for another year. Ben signalled to him from near the Big Tree and he headed in that direction, dragging his feet.

  “Lee, what’s the matter?” Ben asked, the excitement evident in his voice. Like all things to do with their wolf life, Ben took school much too seriously in Lee’s opinion.

  “Ben, calm down. It’s the first day back. What do you expect, man?” Lee turned to head into the building and Ben followed. Lee felt a bit like slapping him.

  “But we get to see everyone again and it’s Year Twelve!” Lee looked at Ben and wondered what response he was looking for. Whatever it was, Lee decided it was too early in the morning to even try to pretend.

  “Yes, it’s Year Twelve. Next year we begin our lives as wolf bums, scavenging off the land and living with our parents forever,” Lee grumbled.

  “I’m not,” Ben said proudly. Lee wished he hadn’t said anything; now he would get the university speech. “I’m going to university, and you should, too. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t, as wolf cubs, be educated along with our supernatural brethren. What? Is it just witches who get to go to university? A few bored vampires? A few stoner Jinn? We are just as able to go to university as any other supernatural! I–”

  “Dude, I get it. Werewolves can go to university too,” Lee hissed at him, looking pointedly at the students walking past them.

  “Do you, Lee? Do you really?”

  “Whatever, I have home group so I have to go. See you at recess.”

  “Yeah, bye,” Lee heard Ben say as he hurried down the corridor.

  Lee was in a daze of frustration throughout home group, where they were given a final copy of their timetables and a ‘welcome back for the last year of school’ talk by the teacher.

  He tried to shake the feeling as he trudged to Maths and sat through Miss Mayberry’s droning intonation for an hour, but no such luck. He was just as sick as Ben of werewolves being known as the bums of the supernatural world, the lowest animals on the intellectual ladder, but he was also stuck in a rut. He really didn’t consider himself anywhere near good enough for university and he had no idea what he’d do if he managed to get in anyway.

  At recess, he went to meet Ben and their friends, hoping that their human friends were there so Ben wouldn’t harp on about werewolves and university. Thankfully, Ryan and Chris were there, and so Lee squared his shoulders and felt less hesitant to join them.

  “Lee! Final year, dude!” Chris yelled as he walked up.

  “I know!” Lee smiled what he hoped was his most convincing happy smile. “Almost out of this dump!” He slapped Chris’ and Ryan’s outstretched palms and sat down with them.

  “What have you got next?” Ryan asked through a mouthful of… Well, Lee wasn’t quite sure what.

  “History, it seems. You?”

  “Science. When have you got English? I’m stuck with Mr Coleman this afternoon. I was really hoping to avoid him ‘til at least Wednesday, after last year’s marks,” Ryan groaned.

  “Yeah, me too. He’ll work us hard this year!”

  Lee caught sight of blue sparks out of the corner of his eye and saw Ellie. She was watching Mike talk to Ashleigh and, by the expression on her face, she was not pleased. As he watched them, her hair gave off more violent sparks.

  Jeez, Ellie…you’re going to spark so hard that the humans will see in a second, Lee thought worryingly.

  He looked at Ben and saw he had noticed too. What could they do? They weren’t exactly friends with Ellie – not since Junior School really. Being supernatural didn’t give you the right to just cross social boundaries like that.

  As another spark went off, Lee mentally cried out her name and she spun around. It took her a moment to find him but, when she did, Lee guessed she knew what he was thinking. She waved slightly at him and he hoped she’d calm down.

  The bell to end recess tolled through the yard and Lee got up stiffly. He wasn’t used to sitting on the ground anymore.

  “See you losers at lunch,” Chris called as he ran after Ashleigh.

  Lee sighed and heard Ryan and Ben do the same.

  “When will he learn?” Ben asked. “History?” He looked at Lee.

  “Yeah. See you at lunch, man.” He nodded at Ryan, who nodded in return.

  History was a blur of introductions, names and dates Lee could hardly follow. The mid-lesson break couldn’t come quickly enough and didn’t give him nearly enough of a rest to understand what Miss Healy was saying in the second hour. There was something to do with World Wars and Russian wars and some assignments that needed doing. Mostly, he just spaced out and wanted to go back to bed.

  As he walked out with Ben, he shoved his assignment list into his bag.

  “Did you catch any of that?” Ben asked, looking at his list worriedly.

  “Not really, no. We’ve got plenty of time to catch up. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Hm… I suppose so. Do you have lunch or need to get lunch?”

  “I’ve got it, you?”

  “Same, let’s just go sit down.”

  Lunch was much the same as recess. Eating was involved, as was some conversation. Lee didn’t see Ellie at all, but he saw Ashleigh talking to Mike and hoped Ellie was far away.

  When the end of lunch bell rang, he stood up and trailed with Ryan to English.

  Half way to the classroom, he saw the human-vampire whatever he was standing in the middle of the hallway and looking around helplessly. Even from that distance, Lee smelled his vampire scent lingering underneath the human one.
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br />   “You go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” he said to Ryan.

  Ryan shrugged and walked on. Lee walked up to the human-vampire.

  “Need a hand?” he asked, suddenly wishing he hadn’t stopped to talk to him.

  “Um…maybe...” He ran his hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly.

  “What have you got?” Lee held out his hand and took the guy’s diary. He read it quickly and groaned inwardly. “English. Lucky. Same class as me. Come on.”

  “Um, thanks… I’m Charles by the way.”

  “I know.” There was silence from Charles. Lee sighed, “Lee.”

  “Nice to officially meet you, Lee.” Charles sounded like a prat.

  “So, what happened to you?” Lee asked before he could stop himself. He thought he knew, after hearing his parents talk, but he wanted to know what this Charles would say.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’re human.” Lee wondered if Charles was a bit simple.

  “I…um… Pet… Ellie cursed me apparently.”

  “Really?” Lee was surprised the guy had told the truth.

  “Yes. After I nearly killed her. Cursing me nearly killed her too. It was some unintentional retaliatory magic or something. I don’t really understand it.”

  Lee nodded, knowing how the guy must feel. “No, I don’t really understand magic much myself.”

  “Here we are. Year Twelve English with Mr Coleman,” Lee said, pointing at the door, and walked inside. He waved at Ryan, who sat with Damien, and went to sit with them.

  Lee tried not to watch as Charles stood awkwardly in the doorway.