Blood Diaries

by Marissa Moss

  Something about jumping over welcome mats? Or eating them? Or setting them on fire? If only I could remember.

  Even if I knew the rules, what would Mom say about kids knowing I’m a vampire?

  I didn’t want to think about that. It was so great being cool, even better than I imagined. Thinking about my family only soured a really good thing. So I didn’t. Think about them, that is.

  The rest of the day, I floated through school. It was the best day of my life!

  I was at the very top of the social pyramid! Everyone wanted to be my friend, Gertie most of all.

  “Ooh, Edgar! You have to eat lunch with me from now on, not those loser friends! Promise me, tomorrow for sure!”

  It was a tempting offer, but the thing is, I really don’t like Gertie, even if she is the coolest girl in 6th grade. Cool doesn’t mean nice, or interesting, or a good friend, it’s a whole other category. And I do like Joel, Howard, and Lucas. I figured I was so cool, I could eat lunch with any kid I wanted, and that meant NOT Gertie.

  But all I said was, “Maybe” in my new, cool way.

  After school, Lucas and I walked to his house. When we came to the front door, I racked my brain for what I was supposed to do about the stupid welcome mat.

  “Are you coming in?” Lucas asked. “Come on, let’s get a snack.”

  I stared at the mat.

  A minute passed. Then another.

  “Edgar?” Lucas asked. He sounded worried, like I might change my mind and leave.

  I had to do something. I couldn’t burn or eat the stupid mat without looking like a crazy person, so I jumped over it.

  I felt a huge wind at my back and then a stillness. I’d done it right! And I walked into my first mortal home ever.

  Lucas gaped at me, but he didn’t say anything. He just told me to leave my backpack by the front door, and we headed for the kitchen.

  It was an ordinary human house, no skull lamps, no coffin beds, no huge black cauldrons brewing blood puddings in big stone fireplaces. And not a spider web or cobweb in sight! No dust even, the house was sickeningly clean!

  Lucas poured himself a tall glass of milk and asked if I wanted some. It smelled so nasty, I had to cover my nose! School lunches were fine with their little individual milk cartons pierced by a straw, sealed up to keep in the curdling milk smell. In an open glass, the stench was overwhelming.

  I had no idea what I’d been spared all this time! How can humans drink the stuff?

  “Um, no thanks,” I said to Lucas, trying to be polite.

  “Oh, right, you only drink blood,” he said.

  “Blood orange juice,” I corrected automatically.

  “Yeah, right.” He winked.

  I didn’t argue with him. After all, I wanted to be polite.

  I waited until Lucas went to the bathroom to call Mom to tell her where I was. Good thing, too, because it wasn’t a quiet conversation.

  In fact, she went ballistic.

  “You’re where? At a human child’s house? You know we can NEVER trust mortals. They can’t be your friends. You’re supposed to be part of the human world WITHOUT being part of it! If they knew the truth about you, they’d kill you, burn our home to ashes. And there you are, playing nice?!”

  “Mom, you always say we have to fit in. That’s what I’m doing, acting like a normal kid.” I didn’t add that she was wrong. Everyone at school thought I was a vampire now, and not only were they NOT mean to me, they were suddenly super-nice.

  I told her I’d only stay an hour and she finally calmed down. That gave us enough time to go on the trampoline in the back yard and to play one game of Zombie Slaughter.

  It was a perfect hour.

  And then I had to go. “Sorry, but my mom will be mad if I don’t get home soon,” I explained.

  “Is she a vampire, too?” Lucas asked.

  This was getting tricky. I couldn’t say yes because that would be breaking the Vampire Code of Honor. But if I said no, would he think I wasn’t a vampire, either, and then I wouldn’t be cool anymore?

  The best thing was to say nothing. I grabbed my backpack and jumped back over the welcome mat.

  “Thanks!” I yelled over my shoulder. “See you tomorrow!”

  Once I was in the clear, I flew home as quickly as possible. But that didn’t matter, Mom was still plenty steamed when I got there. So was Dad.

  “Edgar, we need to talk!” he said.

  Again with the needing thing about talking thing. A bad, bad sign.

  “Listen to your father!” Mom said.

  Another bad sign is when Mom says “your father” instead of “Dad.” I could tell this would be a terrible talk.

  Dad led me into his study, yet another bad sign.

  I stared at the floor and nodded while Dad lectured me about the long history of humans hating and fearing vampires, how prejudiced they are against us, how we can only survive by pretending to fit in, but we could never actually fit in.

  Then he talked about how inferior mortals are anyway, so why be friends with them when I know so many wonderful vampires.

  That’s when I finally said something.

  “That’s great, Dad, but none of the cousins want to be my friend. They all despise me. For once, a kid liked me enough to ask me over. Is that so terrible?”

  “That’s not true!” Dad objected. “The cousins are very fond of you. If you’d give them half a chance, you’d see that.”

  There was no point in arguing with him over this. To him, my cousins were perfect. If we weren’t friends, it had to be my fault.

  I sighed. “Okay, Dad, you’re right.” I didn’t believe it, but I said it so the lecture would be over. At least it satisfied Dad.

  January 13

  I didn’t go over to Lucas’ house for the rest of the week. And when Howard and Joel both asked me over, I said I couldn’t. I figured I could do that much for my parents because the rest of the day, I loved being the cool vampire at school.

  In the old days, before the vampire rumor started, if I did something Gertie didn’t like, I’d find mud in my locker, have balls thrown at my back, end up with spitballs in my hair. Now not eating lunch with her, ignoring her even, just made her nicer to me.

  It was weird. Are girls just opposite creatures, doing the opposite of what makes sense?

  We talked about Gertie and her clique of friends, but Howard, Joel, and Lucas didn’t understand them any better than I did. Being human boys didn’t make them smarter about human girls.

  So they couldn’t tell me why every day there was a bigger group of girls surrounding us at lunch. By Thursday there was practically a mob.

  Even weirder, some of my coolness was rubbing off on Howard, Lucas, and Joel. Some girls would call out their names. Others just smiled at them. I suspected that was one reason they all wanted me to come over. Not so much to be with me as to have everyone else see that I was with them, that I’d chosen them as friends.

  I began to wonder if they liked me because of me or because everyone thought I was a vampire. Then I wondered if it mattered, so long as they liked me. The whole thing was getting very confusing.

  But I’m not complaining -- it was still great.

  January 14

  By Friday, the girls did more than hover around me at school. They followed me home.

  “He’s so mysterious!”

  “He’s the most magnetic boy in school!”

  “Think he’ll notice me?”

  “How can I make him like me?”

  “Why are all those girls following you?” Mom asked. She sniffed like something smelled bad. “What’s going on? First you go over to a human’s house. Now humans come to yours. Something’s fishy here!”

  “Nothing’s fishy!” I snapped. “Maybe I’m not an Ugly Duckling anymore. Maybe I’ve turned into a cool kid.”

  Moms are supposed to think you’re special, wonderful, brilliant, even when you’re not. Not my mom. She looked at me suspiciously.

  “
Edgar, there’s something you’re not telling me.” She drilled me with her eyes. “I’m not just a vampire, I’m your mother. You can’t lie to me.”

  After a week of keeping it all secret, I spilled the beans. All of them. I told Mom how mean Gertie was, how she pushed me until I couldn’t help myself, I got mad, vampire mad. How she figured out I’m a vampire and told everyone in school. How great everyone’s been since then, no angry mobs, just kids finally treating me with some respect!

  “I never said I was a vampire. Never!” I insisted.

  That part was totally true.

  “But you never denied it,” Mom pressed.

  I shrugged. “If they wanted to think that, why stop them?”

  “Because,” Mom hissed, “there’s a Vampire Code of Honor! You know that we have to keep our true identities secret. Every vampire in the whole international vampire clan has agreed to that.”

  She was right, and I was wrong, except things have changed. Maybe humans are ready to accept vampires now.

  Mom sighed. “I know you didn’t mean to cause trouble like this, Edgar. And maybe you’re right about humans. But you can’t decide on your own to change the rules.”

  “Then how do rules ever get changed?” I asked. “We’ve changed as vampires, deciding not to prey on people, things like that. Who decides? How?”

  “Do you really want to do this? Is this so important to you?”

  I nodded. I do. It is.

  “There is a way,” Mom admitted. “If you want to be known as a vampire, then present your request at the Jamboree tomorrow night. Maybe the others will agree with you.”

  “Do I have a chance?” I asked.

  Mom shrugged. “You won’t know until you try.” She looked like she was trying to smile, but just couldn’t manage it, so all she ended up with was a lip quiver. “And I’m proud of you for trying, even if I don’t agree with you. Even if you’re totally wrong.”

  Really? I took that as encouragement. And when Dad came home, he was actually calm about it.

  “Do you think the time is right, Dad? Are we ready for this? Are humans?” It sounded like neither of my parents agreed with me, but they were relieved I was willing to try. Did even my parents think I was a boring nerd? Did anyone believe in me?

  “I don’t know, it’s been this way for so long, it’s hard to imagine things changing. Besides, people are afraid of change, and so are vampires. I wouldn’t get your hopes too high.”

  That answered my question – Dad didn’t think I could make a difference. Mom didn’t want me to.

  How much chance did I have that the Saturday Vampire Jamboree would go my way?

  I tried to give myself a pep talk, looking in the mirror, but of course that didn’t work. I mean, I’m a vampire, so I can’t cast a reflection. I can only listen to myself, which I did.

  January 15

  This time when we got to Grandmother and Grandfather’s house, there was already a crowd standing in the front yard. I looked at Dad.

  “Are they waiting for us? Did you tell them what I was going to propose?”

  “I had to ask for you to be put on the agenda. I tried to warn you this wouldn’t be easy.”

  The crowd didn’t look at all happy or welcoming. Why even bother to suggest being vampires in public? It looked like nobody would agree with me.

  One thing you should know about me. I may not be popular. I may even be a nerd. But I’m stubborn, VERY stubborn.

  I got out of the coffin in the back of the car, strode through that crowd, and went right up to Grandfather.

  “May I speak first?” I asked.

  Grandfather narrowed his eyes into slits. “I can tell you right now that you won’t convince anybody.”

  “May I speak first?” I repeated.

  Grandfather’s eyes squeezed into lines of disgust, disdain, dis-you-name-it.

  “So be it!” he snapped.

  The crowd outside had followed us all into the house. There was a loud buzzing of voices, clinking of glasses, flapping of bat wings. And then silence as Grandfather struck the gong twelve times.

  “Usually we end our Jamborees with Discussions and Instructions, Words of Wisdom to all. Tonight we begin the Jamboree with an Issue that one of us brings to the group for a decision. Here to present his position, I give you my grandson, Edgar Stoker.”

  There was no applause, but then no boos or jeers, either, just a thick, cobwebby silence.

  I walked up to Grandfather, standing next to the great gong.

  I need to pause here to note that people’s number one fear, before disease, divorce, death, accidental dismemberment (Is there any other kind? Purposeful dismemberment?) is public speaking. That’s right, talking to a crowd of people is more terrifying than a car accident, erupting volcano, or shark attack.

  So if you can give a class presentation without shaking, you’re an exceptional person. Vampires aren’t human, but we have some of the same fears. We don’t worry about being buried alive or bitten by a snake or struck by lightning. But public speaking is just as scary to us as it is to mortals.

  Like I said, though, I’m stubborn. I cleared my throat and tried to speak as loudly and clearly as I could. This was no time to mumble or mutter. I had to be convincing or my life as a cool kid at school was over.

  I told the story the way I’d explained it to Mom. I drew a picture of myself as a sad, lonely misfit, someone with a few friends but not much status at school. Then I described Gertie and her bullying behavior. When I said she was a vegan, the crowd booed. They booed!

  The more detail I gave of all the juicy, bloody things Gertie wouldn’t eat and all the drab green things she would, the more agitated they all become. Some shook their fists, others yelled out insults (to Gertie, not to me). I could feel they were all on my side now. Even Grandfather looked horrified as I talked about the Brussels sprout salad Gertie brought for lunch. And when she sneered at me for my raw liver sandwich, there was a loud chorus of “Down with Veggies! Down with Vegans!”

  When I told how I couldn’t take it anymore and got mad, vampire mad, there was an even louder cheer.

  And then silence.

  “I never said I was a vampire. Never!” I explained. “But when that girl saw my vampire fury, she recognized that I was one. And she told everybody in school.”

  Now the crowd was buzzing with questions, worries, fears, as though they expected a horde of humans to break down the front door with pitchforks. As if anybody even owned a pitchfork!

  “It’s okay!” I hurried to reassure everyone. I told them how it turned out that being a vampire was cool, not evil or scary. How nobody was mean to me and even the teachers treated me with respect. I ended by saying that the times had changed, and now we could be vampires openly without anyone wanting to shove a stake in our hearts.

  “So let’s vote on whether we can go public! There’s no reason to hide anymore, no more fear or prejudice against us. The Day of the Vampire is this day, right now!”

  Sploosh! Someone threw a glob of blood pudding right in my face. Splat! Someone else pelted me with blood sausages.

  “Get him!”

  “He’s a traitor to his race!”

  “Make him shut up!”

  Grandfather banged the gong until the ruckus quieted down.

  “I take that to be your vote. No to being vampires in public. Our secret stays our secret. For eternity!”

  Someone started up the music, and the party part of the Jamboree started. Nobody was looking at me anymore. I was back to being a nobody.

  When Zoe came up to me, I thought she’d slug me. She looked like she wanted to.

  “I can’t believe you told the kids at school that you’re a vampire!”

  “I didn’t! I just didn’t tell them I wasn’t one.”

  “Same difference!”

  I shrugged. “It’s different to me.”

  “You can’t let them go on thinking you’re a vampire. You’re ruining it for the rest of us.�
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  The vote had been against my idea that all of us could admit to being vampires. No one had said anything about denying being a vampire. Could I still be cool at school and not betray my family? Was it worth having humans like me if vampires hated me?

  I didn’t know what to do, but the rest of the Jamboree was bound to be horrible, even worse than usual.

  Thadeus glared at me. Barnaby snorted his disgust. And the girl cousins all turned their backs as soon as they saw me near them. I was totally shut out.

  I couldn’t even play with the little kid vampires. They all seemed scared of me now. Their parents stared at me as if I were a horrible influence, threatening to bring evil human traditions, like Christmas, into their lives.

  The only vampire that came near me was Granny.

  “Now dear, don’t take it so hard. It was a difficult thing you did, fighting against a tradition that’s thousands of years old. It took a lot of courage.”

  Or a lot of stupidity.

  “I’m proud of you, Edgar, always have been,” Granny said. “And you should know you’re not the first vampire to suggest we shed our secrecy and come out into the daylight. There have been others over the centuries, and there will be more in the future. The time simply isn’t right yet. But one day maybe it will be.”

  “Who?” I asked. I’d never heard that part of vampire history. Maybe I should read more of Grandfather’s books.

  “The first was Cyrus the Bald, a Persian vampire who thought that the ruling class should be restricted to vampires. Makes sense really since we’re stronger and much, much wiser than humans, given our personal knowledge of history. Cyrus wanted to divided Persia into Vampire Rulers, the Human Elite – that is the wealthier, educated humans – and the Slave class, the poor, stupid humans who would work for the rich ones and be livestock for us vampires. As you can imagine, that idea wasn’t too popular. There was a huge vampire massacre, with Cyrus killed first. The humans no longer trusted supernatural creatures at all and slaughtered the Bull people next.”