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Some Were In Time

Page 10

by Robyn Peterman


  With tears in my eyes and my stomach roiling I decided to talk—it was either that or I'd puke. "So dude, um… ettes or not, I was wondering if you're related in any way."

  "Yep," Francis said with a wrinkled brow, trying to figure out the first part of my sentence. "We're all Dungs."

  Dwayne's gasp and girlie shriek was alarmingly audible. He stood up with fluttering hands and next thing I knew he was plastered to the ceiling.

  "Shit fire," Granny muttered as she grabbed his leg, pulled him down and sat on him.

  The Cows clapped wildly and begged him to do it again. Hank put his head in his hands and sighed heavily.

  "So, um… about this Vampyre Dwayne…" Dwayne said from beneath Granny as he removed his scarf from his nose and tied it into a do rag on his head. "Why is it you want to see him?"

  "The poop patty told us to wait here for him," Lee said.

  "It told us he would come and save us," Pat added.

  "From what?" Hank asked.

  "The poop didn't tell us that part," Francis said sadly. "We stay here because we know he'll come."

  Granny wisely placed her hand over Dwayne's mouth before he could say anything that would turn our strange social visit into a bloodbath. "Your poop lies," she said.

  "Don't you be talking smack on the poop, old lady," Harley grunted as the others paced in agitation.

  "The poop clearly lies," Granny persisted. "You are not the only Were species in the world."

  The grumbling was turning ugly. Hank quickly stood and put himself between us and the Cows.

  I shot Granny a shut the hell up look and tried to diplomatically take over. "Wait," I shouted over the unhappy grunts, violent fist clenching and chest thumping. I was not going to die in a trailer in Indiana after accidently ingesting butt juice. "Is it possible you might have misread the poop? Could it have meant that you are the only Cow species left in the world?"

  That stopped everyone.

  "Hell and damnation," Jamie gasped out. "That bag of bones might be on to something."

  The Cows all sprinted to the wall shelves and began taking down the empty milk jugs—that weren't empty. In the glass bottom of each bottle was a poop patty. Thankfully they were sealed shut. The Cows examined them with excitement and purpose. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming this whole insane evening up. Nope, I was wide awake. This was a living nightmare.

  "I found it," Terry yelled triumphantly. "That girl could be right!"

  "The girl has a name," I muttered.

  "There you go," Francis said, giving Granny a dirty look. "The poop don't lie."

  "Okay, clearly the… poop is onto something," Hank said as he bit down on his lip to keep from laughing and inciting the Cows. "There has to be more in the poop about this Dwayne fellow."

  "Not in the poop," Pat said with narrowed eyes and a flushed face. "In our history there are many stories of the Vampyre known as Dwayne."

  "Oh shit," I whispered. This was going to be good… or really bad. If we were going to die I wanted to know something. "Do you people ever use pronouns to describe yourselves?"

  Everyone stared at me blankly. It was worth a try.

  "Never mind," I said in defeat. "Tell us the Dwayne story."

  "Our mamma and daddy were married by the holy priest, Gay Vampyre Dwayne," Pat began.

  All the Cows plopped down on the floor like children expecting a bedtime story. With clasped hands and wide eyes they waited for Pat to regale us. It was kind of cute in a nightmare- inducing sort of way. The mention of Dwayne's sexuality was interesting and weird.

  "It was a beautiful ceremony with over a thousand in attendance," she went on. "Mamma wore a gown made by hogs and Daddy was nekkid. That's our tradition. Vampyre Dwayne… "

  "Gay Vampyre Dwayne," Francis corrected Pat.

  "Yes, Gay Vampyre Dwayne preached and stood on his head for three days. He wore a pink robe with no underpants."

  "Was it the robe or the lack of undergarments that gave away he was gay?" Dwayne inquired, somewhat insulted.

  Granny slapped his head and took another swig off of her milk. "Hush boy, I wanna hear about Gay Vampyre Dwayne."

  Hank was looking a bit shell-shocked and said nothing, but kept his body between us and the sadly misinformed Cows.

  "Now, normally Mamma would have eaten Daddy on their honeymoon, but Gay Vampyre Dwayne inspired our parents to let go of their normal sexual eating patterns."

  "How did he do that?" I asked, worried about what I would hear but too curious not to know.

  "Not quite sure," Pat said with a shrug. "But if I had to guess I'd say it was the three hour performance of “Hey Diddle Diddle” done to a tribal drum beat."

  I glanced over at Dwayne who was preening. I pulled his do rag down over his face. With no real clue where the tale was going, we didn't need Dracula to reveal his true identity yet.

  "It also might have been the explanation of eating someone in a way more pleasurable than the kind ending in death," Morgan added with a blush to end all blushes.

  I felt heat crawl up my own neck and land on my appalled face. I glanced around the room. Everyone was a varying shade of red except for Dwayne. Vamps couldn't blush. He was looking quite pleased with himself.

  "So anyhoo," Pat went on, trying to ignore the icky sexual elephant in the room. "Mamma spared Daddy's life and they had ninety-two kids. We became pacifiers and started a dairy farm."

  "Pacifists," Hank corrected.

  "That's what I said," Pat shot back.

  "Nope," Granny cut in. "You said you were a piece of rubber babies like to suck on."

  "Well, I'll be damned," Pat sputtered. "That's completely screwed up."

  "Happens to the best of us. So then what happened?" Dwayne asked as he rolled out from underneath Granny and stood next to Hank. "Where are all your siblings and your mamma and daddy?"

  Pat's head dropped forward and its shoulders sagged pitifully. All the Cows on the floor closed in and moaned quietly. They looked like a clump before a rainstorm. "They're all gone. The Fire Breathers came and burned most of our family while we slept about fifty years ago. Mamma and Daddy were so sad they took their own lives."

  "They ate each other?" I gasped out.

  "Hell, no," Francis snapped with huge tears rolling down its face. "They both consumed three hundred packs of Pop Rocks and blew up like fireworks on the Fourth of July."

  "It was awful," Harley sniffed.

  "And messy," Morgan added.

  Never in my life had I heard anything so bizarre and unsettling. I frantically searched for an appropriate condolence, but none came that weren't offensive or backed up by massively inappropriate laughter.

  "Wait," I said, giving up on any compassionate response about the freakish demise of their parents. "Fire Breathers?"

  "Yep. Never saw ‘em, but we know they was fire breathers. Everything and everyone except us and Mamma and Daddy was burned to a crisp," Jamie said in a hushed and tear-clogged voice. "We didn't do nothing to nobody. Don't know why something wanted us dead."

  "After Mamma and Daddy combusted we ran away. We was in Iowa at the time and we hoofed it down here and staked our claim to this land and tried to make a go of it," Pat told us. "Them Fire Breathers never came back, but we'll run if they do."

  "Why wouldn't you fight back?" I asked.

  "Don't know how," Morgan said.

  "You are COWS," Dwayne shouted in frustration as he began to float skyward. "You are some of the most deadly predators in the world. You could kick the Dragons’ asses."

  "We could?" Francis asked, completely confused.

  "Son of a bitch," Dwayne screeched as his head slammed into the ceiling. "This is all my fault."

  "Not following you, Dracula," Pat said as it tried to help him down. "Dragons really exist?"

  "Unfortunately, yes," I said as I helped pulled Dwayne off the ceiling. "They are very bad people and probably tried to eliminate you because of your power. My guess would be they k
now nothing of the eight of you or they would have come after you."

  "That's just mean," Lee huffed. "We don't harm no one."

  "It was an accident when I ate that human a couple years back," Jamie wailed pitifully. "I was havin' a real bad day."

  "No one blames you for that," Francis consoled Jamie with a hug. "It could happen to anyone."

  It gave us the evil eyeball and we all murmured our dubious assent.

  "I can't take this," Dwayne bellowed and smacked himself in the head several times. "This is all my fault. I screwed with the intercourse food chain and destroyed an entire species."

  The Cows were baffled at his outburst, but Granny, Hank and I were not. Hank's hand went to his concealed weapon as did mine and Granny's. Dracula was about to drop a bomb and there was no stopping him.

  "My name is not Dracula," he continued at a decibel that was going to cause hearing damage. The Cows cowered and huddled. "My name is Vampyre Dwayne. I am your new father. I will be adopting you and raising you as my own since I'm dead and can't actually reproduce. Not to mention I'm gay. While I adore women and love playing them on stage, I am simply grossed out at the thought of playing hide the salami with a vagina. I shall endeavor to be a good yet profane and somewhat violent example for you. You will live with me and I will shred the shit out anything that ever tries to harm you again. I will take you shopping for clothes that minimize your girth and you will learn why bath products are your friends. And just so you know, most of the wedding story is correct except the part about how many people were there."

  The Cows were mute and stared at him like he had three heads. I held my breath and kept my hand on my gun. My wolf wanted to come out, but I pushed her back. Dwayne's farked up Star Wars speech had the potential of going very wrong.

  "Daddy?" Harley whimpered as it stepped forward and fell to its knees at Dwayne's feet.

  The other Cows followed suit until there was a sobbing, keening clusterhump at Dwayne's feet. Never, never in my life had I seen anything so odd. It was emotionally wrenching, heart warming, and appalling at the same time. Gay Vampyre Dwayne boohooed along with his new family and patted their dirty heads lovingly. Again, no one was going to believe this.

  "I have an enormous compound in southern Illinois that does not smell like ass. There's a large house with fourteen bathrooms and ten bedrooms. It also has a pool, a pond and a sprinkler system, so I will brook no bull crap about staying clean. The lawns are manicured so there will be no pooping on them. Are we clear?" he asked as he squatted down to their eye level.

  "Yes, Daddy," Francis blubbered. "We will not poop on your lawn."

  "Are there any woods around there?" Morgan asked.

  Dwayne thought for a long moment and then smiled. "I'll buy the adjoining two hundred acres so you'll have an outside defecation area.”

  The Cows giggled and nodded gratefully.

  "You can each pick your own bedroom and I'll have a Were Possum designer I know come in and redecorate it how ever you would like. You'll each get a new car for your birthday. However, it will be taken away for bad behavior, poor table manners or consuming humans. We will go to the toy store and each of you can pick three things to play with. This will potentially help me figure out what you are without having to ask. Everyone will do online college classes until we can determine that you can follow simple hygiene rules and not eat anyone."

  It was nice to know someone else was curious about their gender too.

  "The poop patty has come true," Jamie yelled and hugged Dwayne so hard I thought he might snap. However, anything they accidentally ripped off Dwayne would grow back immediately. He was in Seventh Heaven.

  Hank gave me a dazed look that captured what I was feeling. I bit back my laugh and grabbed his hand. Granny squeezed in between us and we all watched in wonder.

  "If someone had told me how this would have gone down I would have thought they were insane," Hank muttered as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and kissed my forehead.

  "That Pop Rock thing still has me scratching my head," Granny admitted. "Dwayne's gonna have his hands full with them."

  A truer statement had never been uttered… pun intended.

  Chapter 9

  "They're not all going to fit in the Hummer," I said as I stared at the eight Cows now lined up ready to leave with us and their daddy.

  Dwayne stood proudly with his new children. The visual was redonkulous as each cow stood well over six feet tall and had to weigh in at a conservative three hundred pounds. Each had stuffed a backpack full of worldly possessions. They'd done their best to clean up for Gay Vampyre Dwayne's approval. The excitement was palpable and my heart felt light. These sexually ambiguous Cows just wanted to fit in somewhere and be loved. Dwayne wanted to be needed and he was a good man. I suspected he would spoil them rotten, but they'd had a hellish life so far.

  "Not a problem," Francis assured me. "We ride hogs."

  "Oh my god." I sighed in dismay and groaned. "Another Were species I didn't know about?"

  "Um, no," Hank said with a lopsided grin and twinkling eyes. "Motorcycles."

  I wanted to laugh and I wanted to slap him. He had enjoyed that one too much. However, I was relieved to realize a herd or gaggle of pigs would not be running behind the Hummer.

  "Where are we going?" Pat yelled as it pulled up on the largest motorcycle I'd ever seen.

  "I think we should drop my children off at the compound and get them settled in before we go after the Dragons," Dwayne suggested like any good parent would.

  "That sounds like a plan," Hank agreed as he grabbed a can of gasoline and poured it around the trailers. "We need to burn this place down. No trace of the Cows can be left," he instructed.

  “You don't have to do that," Pat told Hank.

  He stopped patiently and waited for Pat to explain. God, he was going to be a good dad…

  "We can blow the farm up in less than a minute."

  Granny started running like Satan was on her heels and put her hands over her hair. Oh my sweet hell, I joined her as I realized what was about to happen. Hank was quick to follow, but Dwayne stood proudly with his children as they bent over and aimed their asses at the dilapidated farm behind them.

  "Run," Hank shouted as he yanked Granny and me along. "This is gonna be bad."

  "We're all gonna die," Granny shrieked as we tried desperately to put more distance between us and the eight Cow gastric inferno that was about to occur.

  Hank picked both of us up as we sprinted and dove behind the Hummer. We were a good half-mile away now. Thank god we hadn't pulled the Hummer up to the trailers. The roads were so pitted we left it down the road when we'd picked it up an hour ago. It would suck having to share a hog with a Cow.

  The sound was deafening, but the stench was like one I'd never known. Death didn't seem like such a bad option at the moment. The farm blew up in an explosion that could be seen for miles. The Cows jumped on their bikes and dragged an asphyxiated and paler than normal Dwayne with them.

  We piled into the Hummer as they threw Dwayne in the back.

  "Go, go, go," Francis shouted to Hank. "That there fire's gonna get worse before it gets better."

  I was certain we'd all lost brain cells or at least our olfactory senses in the blast—but more shockingly, we were alive to tell the story no one in their right mind would believe.

  As we floored it out of the property with the Cows behind us I started to laugh. Hank and Granny joined me until tears ran from our eyes. Dwayne just sat sprawled in the back and grinned.

  "My children are something else," he gagged out proudly.

  "That they are," Hank said with a grimace and a cough.

  ***

  "Something is very wrong here," Dwayne snapped with a wrinkled brow as we stood in front of his massive mansion in southern Illinois.

  It was white and had an antebellum feel—elegant and symmetrical with a grand entryway flanked by columns. The porch wrapped the entire front of the h
ome and balconies peppered the upper level. It was breathtaking and I had a hard time imagining it as the Cows’ new home.

  The grounds were manicured within an inch of their lives. Blossoming trees and beds of blood red flowers blanketed the area.

  "This place is beautiful," Granny said and punctuated it with an appreciative whistle.

  She was correct, but so was Dwayne. Something was off. I felt it in my gut. Hank did too.

 

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