by Douglas Rees
"How long has this been going on?" I asked, trying to get my mind around the idea.
"Oh, New Sodom's been here over three hundred and fifty years," Justin said.
"You mean the Pilgrims were vampires? I mean, jenti?" I said.
"I don't know about the Pilgrims," Justin said. "My family were Puritans. And we've been here right along. Everybody knows which families are which, and we all get along pretty well. Now."
"But not always?"
Justin sighed.
"There were some bad times. The gadje tried to burn us out in the 1640s. And the 1650s. And the 1660s. And there was kind of a war between us in 1676. The whole town was ruined. Then everybody took a look at how few of us were left on both sides and decided no one was going to win. So we all swore to the New Sodom Compact. The gadje would stop trying to wipe us out, the jenti wouldn't—you know, drink—any closer than Boston. So things were pretty peaceful. We all went to the same schools and things. Just didn't have anything to
do with each other that we didn't have to. Then in the nineteenth century the new jenti started coming in, the Transylvanians and the rest. The gadje started to get scared again. So we worked out a new deal. We separated more. We got our own school, for instance. And we pretty much shop in separate stores and things like that. It works."
The hairs on the back of my neck were standing at attention.
"So—does everyone else know? I mean in the rest of the state?"
"It's no secret," Justin said. "But nobody talks about it, either. It works better that way. Anything else you want to ask?"
"A-about how many?" I asked. "Here."
"Maybe fifteen thousand," Justin said.
Fifteen thousand vampires in my new hometown. And I was in their own special school. No wonder the kids at Cotton Mather hadn't talked about this place.
I had to get out of here. Even Dad wouldn't keep me in a school full of vampires. No, that wasn't quite true. He wouldn't keep me in a school that he believed was full of vampires. But how could I make him believe it? There was no way, short of inviting Justin home and asking him to do his thing with his fangs.
Then I had another thought. Straight As for no work. A guaranteed future. And Justin had said I was "marked" like it was a good thing. And there was that New Sodom Compact. Maybe I was really safe. And maybe I could make this into a really good deal. I began to feel just a little less frightened.
"That thing Ileana did, marking me," I said. "What was that about?"
"You'd better ask her," Justin said, blushing.
"Come on," I said. "You said you owe me."
"I can't tell you that," Justin said. "It's just an old custom. Ileana's family's kind of old-fashioned."
There was only one limo left now. The back door swung open as we approached.
"How do I know this is mine?" I asked.
"Just tell the chauffeur where you want to go," Justin said.
I got in.
"Thanks again," Justin said. "Maybe you'd like to come over sometime."
"Oh. Yeah," I said. I wasn't going to say anything that might disappoint him.
"Where to, Master Cody?" asked the chauffeur, who looked about nine hundred years old and probably was.
"To 1727 Penobscot Street
," I said.
The car purred away from the curb.
I looked back through the rear window at Justin. He was still standing there, watching me. That wispy little smile came back to his face and he raised his hand.
For some reason, so did I.
VAMPIRE CANDY DREAMS
When I got home, Mom was cooking dinner. I could smell she was making corned beef without the cabbage. Corned beef is one of my favorite foods.
"How did it go today, boy of mine?" she said. She sounded so happy, I knew she was worried.
"It's real different," I said.
"Good different, or bad different?" Mom asked.
"Very different," I said. "Is there time for me to have a bath before dinner?"
"Lots of time," she said.
I went upstairs to the bathroom. I ran the tub as hot as I could stand it, poured in Epsom salts, and eased into the scalding water.
Our tub was huge. I could sink up to my chin with nothing sticking out.
I really, really, really needed to think. And right now I didn't think I could. My mind was running back and forth like a rabbit caught between two coyotes. I remembered what Justin had said about vampires hating water, and that brought back that horrible moment when Gre-gor and his buds had thrown me back and forth like the rag in a game of steal the bacon, and I started to shake.
I couldn't stop. My muscles just took over and did what they did. My teeth chattered. I lay in the water and watched it slosh out of the tub. Maybe I made some noises. I don't know.
It was funny, though. Once the shaking stopped, I felt better. It was like my body had thrown off its fear to get me ready for the next thing, whatever it was.
I got out of the tub and mopped the floor with a towel. Then I examined my back in the mirror. My shoulder was already deep purple, and so was the place where Hie had kicked me. But the scratch Ileana had put on my cheek was almost gone.
I took a couple of aspirins, went across the hall to my room, and put on some sweat pants and my UCLA Bruins shirt. Then I flopped on my bed.
I heard Dad come home. He and Mom started talking. Part of it sounded like it was about me. I had to tell them something about today, but what?
I went downstairs.
"Hello, son," Dad said. "How did it go today?"
"Pretty weird," I said.
Then the phone rang.
Mom handed it to me, smiling. "It's for you, Cody," she said. "It's a girl."
I took it into the family room to have some privacy.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hello, Cody Elliot?" said a high, precise, beautiful voice.
"Yeah, hi, Ileana," I said.
"When you threw the snowballs this afternoon and helped Justin to escape from those boys, he came and found me and asked me to help you. I did the first thing I could think of, and I want to explain it," she said. "It is an old custom among my people—my ethnic group—and I want to make sure that you understand it. It means nothing to me—that is, it does not mean to me what you may hear it means from others. So I need to clarify."
"Great," I said.
"Justin called me and told me you had asked."
"Yes?" I said.
"In the old times, a jenti and a gadje might form a sort of partnership," she said. "Its sign was a mark on the gadje's cheek. It meant that the gadje was under the protection of that particular jenti, and all other jenti would respect that. It is not done much anymore, but we still honor it when it is done. So you do not have to worry about Gregor and those others any longer. That is all I wanted to say. That and to thank you for trying to help Justin today. He is my oldest friend."
"Wait a minute," I said. "You mean you put your mark on me to protect me, but you didn't mean it?"
"No, no," she said. "I am explaining this badly. I meant that part. It is the rest you should disregard."
"What rest?"
"As I said, it is a very old-fashioned custom."
"What's the rest?" I said again.
"I prefer not to say," she said, sighing.
"Justin said I should ask you. So I'm asking. Tell me," I said.
"It is nothing. Just that in the old days, very far back, there was the protection for the gadje, and there was also what the jenti got." She was talking fast.
"What was that?"
There was a long pause. Finally she said, "Blood."
It was like I'd already known it. The last piece of the puzzle. I wasn't even scared.
But Ileana went on. "That is the part that must not concern you. I do not want you ever to think of it again. Please do not."
"Okay," I said. As if anyone could not think about being another person's private blood bank. "But there's one more thing I
really need to know."
"What is it?"
"Are you and Justin going together?" I asked.
"Oh, no," said Ileana. "We are just friends from our first days, that is all."
"Then . . . maybe you'd like to go out with me sometime?"
There was a pause that went on for about a week.
"A relationship?" she said finally. "Thank you very much, but no. I do not think so. I do not think we are the same kind of person. But I like you. I think you are a good gadje. You were very brave this afternoon. Thank you for saving my friend."
Click.
"You're welcome," I said to no one.
I put the phone down and went back into the dining room.
As soon as I came back, Mom brought dinner in. We all sat down and she lit candles.
It was the candles that made me decide not to tell much about what had happened at school. Candles meant she was happy. It had been too long since I'd seen her like this.
Dad noticed it, too. He brought out a bottle of his best wine and opened it. He and Mom raised their glasses.
"To you, Cody," Dad said. "At the end of a long day." He reached across and poured some into my empty glass.
I'd had wine a few times before but never Dad's good stuff. I tried it and tasted oak, dust, and the sun of a summer day years ago.
"Not bad," I said.
"A hundred and twenty dollars a bottle and he says 'not bad,'" Dad said. "We're raising a connoisseur."
"Who was that on the phone?" Mom asked.
"Ileana Antonescu," I said. "Something about school."
"You have some classes with her?" Dad asked.
"A couple."
Dad leaned forward. "How is that place, anyway? What happened after I left?"
"Well, it's pretty much like a regular school," I said. "The work's harder and the teachers are weirder than at Cotton Mather."
"Sounds promising," Dad said.
"Did anyone show you around, at least?" Mom asked.
"Yeah."
"How do you think you're going to like it?" Dad asked.
"I can't say," I said. I drank the wine, feeling it coat my tongue. When my glass was empty, I held it out.
"Just a little more," Dad said.
But that little was enough. My head started buzzing. I could hardly keep my eyes open. And even though I was hungry, I just didn't feel like eating.
"Excuse me," I said, getting up. "I'm going to bed."
"I'll leave you a snack in case you wake up later," Mom said.
I did wake up later. I don't know how much later it was. My room was pitch-black, the house was quiet, and clouds had covered the whole sky.
I just lay there, feeling my bruises and listening to the wind make the trees sigh a little.
Time seemed to have stopped. It felt like morning would never come and it didn't matter that it wouldn't. I was safe now.
Now I could think.
I couldn't decide whether I had just fallen into the best deal of my life or the worst.
I wouldn't have to worry about grades, or working, for the rest of my life. Ileana had protected me from every other vampire at Vlad Dracul. All I had to do was mark time until the vampires got me into college—a California college, I'd see to that—and then I'd never have to leave home again.
So what was making me sick about it?
I tossed, I turned. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I went over it again and again in my mind. Getting As without trying. College
without trying. Even a job without trying. What was the catch?
After a long time, I began to wonder if I shouldn't stay home the next day, since I wasn't getting any sleep. It made a lot of sense to me.
"Why not?" I finally said to myself. "It doesn't matter whether I go or not."
And then I drifted off, just in time to hear my alarm start buzzing.
/ can't do this today.
I staggered downstairs to the phone. The brochure for dear old Vlad Dracul was right next to it, and the phone number was on the front cover.
"Vlad Dracul High School," said Ms. Prentiss's soft voice.
"This is Cody Elliot," I said. "I'm calling in sick today."
"Oh, dear," said Ms. Prentiss. "Well, just get better, Master Cody."
As easy as that, I was home for the day.
"Cody, are you not well?" Mom asked, looking worried.
"Just tired. I didn't sleep," I said.
"Frankly, Cody, I was beginning to hope you'd found a school where you'd get down to work," Dad said.
"Get off my back," I told him. "I have all my assignments. And if I don't pull straight As in the next nine weeks you can send me to military school."
I slammed the door to my room and threw myself on the bed. Sleep took me back.
I woke up early that afternoon and stretched. I still hurt, but the places I didn't hurt felt good.
I'd had a stupid dream about Horvath. I'd been sitting in his office, and he'd been right up in my face, smiling and feeding me candies. They were soft little candies, very sweet, and he kept popping them into my mouth, one after the other. The thing was, I didn't like the taste. I'd woken up because after I'd swallowed the first couple, I'd just been holding them in my mouth and my mouth had gotten full.
I laughed. I bet Horvath would have done that for me, as long as he needed me in his school.
I decided I was hungry and got up.
The house was empty. There was a note on the table. Mom had gone to the store.
I wandered through the rooms, feeling good. Today I could do whatever I wanted.
I had to find out when the water polo games were. Other than that, my time was my own. Maybe I could work from home. Not that I had to do any work.
I wondered what colleges in California had enough vampires on their boards or whatever that I could just waltz into them. And scholarships. I'd have to apply for some of them, just to make everything look right.
I looked out the back windows. The sky was still gray, the ground was still white, and the trees were still black. I could feel the scene sort of wrapping around me, getting inside. I looked into those clouds and it was like I could see my future for years ahead. Just clouds and more clouds, but I'd be flying through them, floating. I wouldn't have to do a thing.
By now, Justin and Ileana would be in seventh period, probably going over their homework on Betelgeuse. I'd have bet they'd been up till midnight doing those assignments. But, hey, they were vampires. They probably preferred midnight.
Anyway, tomorrow I'd go back to school and I'd hand Ms. Vukovitch a blank sheet of paper. Maybe I'd write the word Betelgeuse on it so that she'd know which assignment it was supposed to be. I'd get it back with an A. I'd hand Mr. Mach a sheet of paper that said I don't know anything about Mozart and get an A. Shadwell—I'd give Shadwell a piece of paper at the end of the year that said This is an epic right in the middle of it and get my A. Social studies: A. Gym: A. Water polo—who cared? They could give me any grade they wanted. It didn't matter.
The queasy feeling came back.
Lunch. I must need lunch.
So I made myself a sandwich and milk. I ate an apple imported from some place where the sun was shining. I felt full but no better. It was like I was still swallowing those candies.
What was my problem? I had everything a kid would want. Guaranteed straight As, guaranteed college, even a guaranteed job. And I didn't have to do anything for it but lose a few games now and then. Me, I'd win no matter what. Nothing I did mattered.
Nothing I do matters.
That was it. Nothing I did made any difference. The vampires had everything they wanted from me. All they needed were a few gadje to play in the water for them. That let them go up and down their marble halls in their
quiet way, doing those incredible homework assignments, doing whatever they wanted in their school, while a few of us gave them the screen that let them do it. What they gave in return was nothing to them. They d
espised us.
They might not be sucking our blood, but they were sucking our pride.
Maybe that deal was good enough for Brian Blatt and good old Coach Underskinker, but it wasn't good enough for me. Tomorrow I was going back to that school, and I was going to find some way to pass for real. And I was going to play water polo to win, even if nobody else on the team did.
A few minutes later, Mom came home. Her nose was red from the cold and her breath was steaming.
"Are you feeling better, Cody?" she asked.
"I'm great," I said. "Have we got any Mozart CDs?"
MS. SHAOWELL DE-LYCANTHROPIZES
Of course, I Still couldn't do the assignments. I listened to something by Mozart called Bine Kleine Nachtmusik, which means "a little night music" in English, and all I heard was a mess of notes. I listened two more times, and I heard them again.
Finally, I looked Mozart up in the encyclopedia and on the Web. Then I wrote:
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born in 1756 and died in 1791. In between he wrote hundreds of musical compositions, including Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. It has literally thousands of musical notes and a Kochel number of 525.
I do not know what a Kochel number is, but I hope it is part of the answer to this question. Even if it isn't,
please give me a real grade, Mr. Mack. I don't want your fake As.
Then I tried science.
The star Betelgeuse is, as we learned in class, a red giant four hundred to six hundred light-years from Earth. Someday it will explode. Four hundred to six hundred years after that, the first radiation from it will arrive here. No one can say exactly how much, or what will happen, but it could be bad for life on Earth.
You told us to look up the Van Allen Radiation Belts, which I did. They are belts of radioactive material in orbit around Earth that are trapped by our magnetic field. I don't know what they have to do with this question, but please give me a real grade, Ms. Vukovitch. I don't want one of your fake As just because I'm agadje.
Social studies was easy. I just got a piece of beef jerky to take to school.
Dear Mr. Gibbon. Sorry I was absent. Here is some salted food. Please grade it the way you would a jenti piece of beef jerky. I don't want a fake A.
By now it was eleven o'clock. Mom and Dad were in bed. I didn't have any homework for English, but I wanted to get started on something anyway.
