Her wary face turned into her familiar smile as her kind eyes focused on me.
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, “I’m not going anywhere. I can take care of myself.” She proudly held up the wooden baseball bat as if to demonstrate her invincibility.
How can she lift that thing with arms as skinny as cotton swabs?
“Are you sure? There’s enough space in my car.”
I had no idea if this was true, not knowing how much luggage Sue was going to bring yet, but where there was a will, there was a way. I didn’t want not-having-enough-space being the reason to leave Mrs. Babcock behind.
“You’re very kind to offer, love, but you do what you have to do. I’ve never left Bullsbrook in my life, and I’m certainly not going to leave it now.”
Her smile was as sweet as candy. My jaw dropped. I rushed to shut it, so I didn’t come off as insulting.
Bloodthirsty suckers are coming this way and she’s going to fend them off. With a baseball bat.
“Are you sure? It’s okay, you know. We’ve got plenty of space,” I tried again. “We’re going to a campground north of here.”
I tried to find more words to persuade her, but one look at her told me that anything I could come up with would be a waste of time.
“Don’t you worry about me, Kate. You go with your friends. I’ll be perfectly all right here.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure, love.”
I left, but before I stepped off her porch, I turned around and said, “If you change your mind…”
“I won’t, dearie.” Another smile.
I fought the urge to sigh out loud.
“You take care then, Mrs. Babcock.”
“You too, Kate. You too.”
As I crossed the lawn toward my home, I heard her put the locks back on the door.
Will I ever see her again?
Leaving
It was 11 p.m., and I stood in my bedroom, looking around. What to pack? ‘Just the essentials,’ Charlie had said. But what essentials do you pack when fleeing from suckers? A mirror? No, that wouldn’t make sense. They weren’t vampires without a reflection, so forget a mirror.
Fortunately, memories of my Girl Guide camp experiences kicked in. I needed warm clothing for cold nights, toiletries (including a toothbrush), extra pairs of socks, hiking boots, a water-tight jacket and pants, layers of clothing, a first-aid kit, and a whistle. I decided to skip the whistle. I didn’t think I wanted to draw attention to myself with suckers around.
Light! I remembered them saying on TV suckers were light-sensitive, so I need light. I dug deep into my closet and found my big Maglite. As I held the tube, I realized that battery-light wasn’t the same as UV-light.
Oh well, if you can’t make them have seizures with the battery-spawned light, you can always clobber them over the head with it.
My inner me didn’t always have great ideas, but I liked this one. I balanced the flashlight in my hand while weighing up the pros and cons of lugging the item with me. Four DD batteries made it rather heavy, but it also was a handy tool to get around a campsite at night and clubber anyone unconscious with it, so I decided to bring it. I put it next to the backpack on my bed and began packing the usual overnight stuff and as much dark clothing as I could find.
There was a pretty big chance I’d have to provide Sue with dark clothing as well since most of hers made her stick out like Christmas lights in a dark pine tree forest. Her preference for bright colors wouldn’t help if we needed to hide in dark corners to avoid any suckers finding us.
When I had packed everything I could think of, I sat on the edge of my bed and laced up my walking boots. My heart skipped a beat and my fingers lost the laces when there was a knock on the front door. Grabbing the Maglite, I hurried into the living room and peeked through my curtains, imitating Mrs. Babcock. Sue and Charlie stood illuminated under my porch light. Charlie carried a leather duffel bag while Sue had a huge, red weekend bag hanging off her shoulder and was leaning on the handle of a cabin suitcase. She looked around nervously, her eyes widening at every sound she heard. I lifted my Maglite above my head, opened the door with a swift move to let them in, and shut it immediately behind them.
“Wow. Aren’t you just ready for action,” Sue said as she fumbled trying to rest her weekend bag on the top of her suitcase.
“Well, my landlady just gave me a good example of how to be prepared. She’s got herself a baseball bat.”
“Did she clobber you over the head with it?” Charlie said with a twinkle in his eyes, his eyebrows raised.
“Of course not. Duh! But she’s gonna defend herself with it.” I made a swinging action with my Maglite.
“Not coming with us then,” Charlie said, the twinkle gone from his eyes, and his heavy eyebrows now in a frown.
“No, unfortunately not.” My shoulders slumped. “I did offer, but she wouldn’t have any of it. Poor lady. She has no idea what’s coming.”
Sue let her weekend bag drop on the floor and flopped into one of my chairs. I knew she liked Mrs. Babcock too.
“We don’t really know what’s coming either, but I’m not going to hang around to find out,” Charlie said. “Let’s awaken that mechanical beast of yours and get out of here.”
He patted Sue’s shoulder. She looked up, gave him a weak smile, and raised herself out of the chair again.
As I got behind the wheel of my car, Sue took the passenger seat, and Charlie sat in the backseat. All of our luggage fitted in the limited space in the back, which surprised me, and it meant that Charlie had the whole backseat to himself. Unfortunately, Sue pushed the passenger chair right back to fit in her long legs. Charlie had no choice but to sit behind me.
When I turned the key, the starter sounded like it was choking itself out. The car didn’t start. My heart stalled as well. The car had never given me any trouble before. I looked at Sue, and her eyes mirrored the anxiety I felt.
“Try again,” Charlie said as he leaned forward. I couldn’t help but notice his breath on my neck. It made my heart pound twice as fast now, as if it wanted to catch up on missed beats.
I turned the key a second time. The car revved and started normally. I let out a big sigh of relief, Charlie slumped back in his seat, and Sue smiled at me.
“Phew,” she said and pretended to wipe her brow.
I backed out of my driveway, and we were on our way. Sue guided me to the highway that would lead us to the campground. I had to dodge shopping carts and waste bins lying in the streets. The town scenery was so different from the previous few months.
Bullsbrook used to be the most wonderful place on earth to me. The people who lived here cared for it. There was no litter, no graffiti, and flowerbeds colored the front gardens. What I liked best was that people exchanged greetings when passing each other in the street. That was so unheard of in the city of Portland, where I was born and raised.
After I’d finished my teaching degree last June, I received a position as a science teacher here in Bullsbrook. I’d been so thrilled that I was chosen to teach in this idyllic country town. I counted myself lucky because usually, only a limited number of positions like these were available. That I landed such a job right away had been like winning the lottery. Fellow teaching grads had offered to trade places with me, which I of course gracefully declined.
Now, in the dark of night, the town looked even more dreadful than during the day. Shop windows were broken, showing as dark, black holes in the facades. Houses were boarded up and had loose planks rattling in the wind. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Bullsbrook looked more like the slumps than a pretty country town.
We were out of Bullsbrook quickly and quietly. The campground was not too far from town, and the road was pretty straightforward. My thoughts went back to Mrs. Babcock. She had said she would defend herself with a baseball bat. Suckers were coming… and she would fight them off with a baseball bat. Sweet, tiny, fragile Mrs. Babcock.
I had an awf
ul feeling in my gut, and I felt my perspiration going into overdrive.
Did I pack my deodorant?
The conversation with Mrs. Babcock kept running like a looped video in my mind. Had I made the wrong decision? I knew I wouldn’t have been able to persuade her to come, but still, my conscience kept telling me I should have tried harder.
Maybe I should have hit her over the head with that bat and kidnap her.
My inner me was coming up with ludicrous ideas again, so I focused on the road in front of me, following the yellow lines. I felt like I was Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, following the yellow brick road, but instead of going home, I was fleeing from it.
Glancing sideways at Sue and then trying to find Charlie in the rearview mirror, I wondered which one was the lion, the scarecrow, or the tin man. Sue had her eyes closed, and Charlie was staring out the side window. They were both lost in their own world.
I better not start singing ‘Follow the yellow brick road.’
The Campground
It wasn’t long before I saw the signs to the campground called ‘Piney Creek’ and turned off the main road. The approach wound through a forest of pines and birches. Their foliage cut out the light from the low moon. The glow of my car’s high beams was the only light illuminating the way.
The entrance to the campground was blocked by a boom gate. I drove up as close as I could before putting my car into park.
“Keep the motor running,” Charlie said as he beat me getting out of the car.
“What’s he doing?” Sue asked. She’d only stopped snoring a few minutes before.
“He’s going to lift the boom gate.”
“It doesn’t work automatically?”
I looked back but didn’t see a pole with a button on it.
“Nope, this one’s manual. Did your neighbors tell you how old this place was?” Sue remained silent. “Oh, dear.”
As Charlie struggled to push down the boom’s counterweight, Sue opened her window and called out to him. “Be careful!”
“Don’t worry, my lady,” Charlie called back, “I won’t drop it on my head.”
I smiled, but Sue was annoyed he hadn’t taken her concern seriously.
You may lose your job, jester Charlie.
While Charlie kept the boom gate vertical, I drove the car to the other side. I kept an eye on him and the forest through my mirrors. Since watching the video in the bar, I kept expecting sucker attacks at any moment. Charlie dropped the boom and hurried back into the car. We drove on for a short distance before reaching the visitor parking lot. Apart from my car, it was empty. There were no trees nearby, and the moon now lit up our surroundings. We could see an office building with what looked like a dwelling attached, along with a separate camp store and a building I assumed housed toilets, showers, and hopefully a launderette.
The light in the reception area was on. Nobody came outside to greet us, though. After I killed the engine, I waited but couldn’t see or hear anything suspicious.
No evidence of anyone being attacked by suckers.
Charlie and Sue didn’t move to get out either. They, too, waited for something to happen. When nothing did, I stepped out of the car. Sue and Charlie followed suit. As soon as we were all out, the door of the reception cabin opened, and a man appeared. He had short, brown hair, red-veined cheeks, and held a shotgun aimed in our direction. The three of us shot our hands up, holding our breath.
“What do you want?” the man said.
The tone of his voice was stern but free of deadly intent. I gathered that if he wanted to kill us, he would have done so already. So, what were the intentions of this man wearing a black and red, checkered shirt and brown, corduroy pants? He looked like a lumberjack.
Not sure if he’s okay though.
I bit the inside of my lip, suppressing a smile. This is not the time to be funny, Kate.
I scanned the faces of my friends. I got the impression that Charlie was also trying very hard not to laugh.
“Well?” the man asked again.
“We’re here to get a cabin, sir,” Sue said. “We’re here to get a cabin, just for the three of us.” She gestured toward Charlie and me and flashed an anxious smile. I realized Sue thought the situation was scarier than I did.
“Keep your hands up!” the man yelled as we had dropped our arms on the assumption that things were okay now. We shot them up again.
Okay, so he doesn’t fall for the pretty lady routine.
“We can pay for it. We’ve got money,” I offered.
As the man’s eyes shifted in my direction with noted interest, I took my chances and pulled out a few bills from my pocket.
The man’s demeanor changed at once. He lowered his gun. “Ah, okay, that’s good to hear.” He gave me an awkward smile. “Please come in, and I’ll write you a receipt.” He turned around and disappeared into the office.
We stood there with our hands half in the air, looking at each other, wondering if this was for real.
“You guys got any cash on you?” I asked. “I don’t know if I have enough.” I showed them the few twenty-dollar bills from my pocket.
Once we had gathered all the cash we had on hand, we went into the office to pay for a cabin. The reception was small and dingy. There were no seats for waiting customers, no toys to keep children busy while moms and dads did business with Mr. Lumberjack.
“I’m sorry for the hostile reception,” the man said as he gathered some paperwork. “I’ve been hearing disturbing stories from customers. One can’t be careful enough these days. Is any of it true?”
“I’m afraid so,” Charlie said. “We haven’t seen any trouble ourselves, but we’ve seen video footage. Seemed legit.”
“They’re coming this way,” Sue added.
Mr. Lumberjack looked up in alarm from what he was doing.
“Well, we’re hoping they’re not coming here,” I said. “We’re hoping they stay on the main road. That’s why we came here, in the hope they avoid us.”
Mr. Lumberjack made a guttural noise and proceeded to give us the price of the cabin. We had asked for a two-person cabin, as Charlie was happy to sleep on a couch, but Mr. Lumberjack insisted that the insurance company would be on his back if he let us. I got a hunch that he was more interested in renting out a bigger cabin and receiving the higher price since he was clearly disappointed when we then decided to only pay for three days instead of a full week.
After Mr. Lumberjack handed over the keys to our four-person cabin, No.8, he highlighted its location on a copied map which he then gave to us. We hopped back into my car and drove slowly along a lantern-lit path. The light cast an orange glow on the tarmac. Cabins were on one side of the path, campers on the other. Most looked occupied. We could see lights on in several of them, but every single one had their curtains drawn. Now and again, I saw a curtain move and somebody peek out, but as soon as I’d look in their direction, the watcher would withdraw. In contrast to Mr. Lumberjack, who seemed more weary than anything else, these campers seemed scared.
When we arrived at our cabin, I parked next to it, and we got our luggage out of the trunk. I held the screen door of the cabin open while Sue fumbled with the key to open the front door. Charlie and I followed her inside. We stood in a living room/kitchenette, with two doors on the left and two on the right. Charlie inspected the bedrooms while Sue and I checked out the cleanliness of the bathroom and toilet. Neither of them would live up to my mother’s standards, but after having lived on my own for nearly three months now, my standards had dropped considerably. I could live with it.
“First dibs on the big bed!” Charlie yelled.
Sue and I hurried over and threw appreciative glances into the severely-seventies decorated, roomy bedroom. It had mirrored closets and a double bed which looked comfy.
Charlie lay spread-eagled on his back on the orange-and-brown-checkered bedspread. Sue and I checked out the other room. We nearly got jammed in the doorway trying to get into it. It was very
narrow with a set of bunk beds taking up most of the space.
“Oh, hell no!” Sue yelled back to Charlie. “We can’t possibly fit in this tiny cupboard, so you are sleeping in here, mister. We girls get the big room.”
“Not fair,” Charlie muttered as I heard him lift himself off the bed, dragging his duffel behind him.
“Sorry, Charlie, but you are better sized for that small room,” I said as we passed each other switching rooms. I dropped my backpack where he had been on the bed.
“No argument there,” I heard him say as he chucked his duffel onto the bottom bunk bed.
First Night at the Cabin
It felt as if we had traveled back in time as I looked around the cabin. Everything had a seventies look. Brown carpet, wooden paneling, and orange curtains everywhere. It made me think of the photos of my parents when they were young. Mini-skirts, high hair, and sideburns. The cabin didn’t smell of cigarette smoke, though, which was a relief. We made ready for bed, putting our toiletries in the bathroom, laying out our pajamas, and closing the curtains. I saw Charlie checking out the refrigerator and the kitchen cupboards.
“Who’s up for a nightcap?” he asked, holding up a six-pack of beer he pulled from the cupboard underneath the sink.
“Good find, Charlie!” I took out three different-sized glasses from a high cupboard in the kitchenette.
Charlie handed me two cans, pulled another one out of the plastic rings and put the remaining three in the refrigerator.
“I don’t need a glass, so you girls can take the bigger ones,” he said as he pulled the lid from his can. He sat down on one of the orange, retro-looking chairs and took a sip.
Sue joined us. I finished pouring the beer into the two glasses and looked forward to some mindless chatter to stop my thoughts from rambling on about what ‘could have,’ ‘should have,’ or ‘would be.’ I handed Sue her glass of beer.
“So… what did you guys bring as weapons?” Charlie asked. As much as I liked Charlie, I despised him that very moment for bringing up ‘the subject’ again.
Living Like A Vampire Page 2
