The Vampire of Plainfield

by Kristopher Rufty

  “Jeez,” said Timmy. He knew it sounded dumb, but he didn’t know what to say.

  “Your dad’s walking in right now.”

  Timmy recognized his father’s deep tenor in the background. When he spoke, the other voices petered out, listening to what he had to say.

  “Want me to hang up?” asked Timmy.

  “No. Please don’t.”

  “Okay.”

  Timmy couldn’t stop the smile from coming. He knew Robin, along with the rest of her family, were going through a terrible crisis. But he was overjoyed to be on the phone with her. Even if the reasons behind it weren’t good.

  Listening, Timmy couldn’t make out what his father was saying. The sympathetic quality suggested he wasn’t delivering good news.

  Livid voices cut him off.

  “No news,” she said. “Everybody’s yelling at him.”

  Hearing how his father was being treated made Timmy angry. Dad was out there for them, when he should be home. He was trying to resolve this matter and they shouted at him for it? Sounded to Timmy like the snot had run away from home. Maybe Dad had told them the same thing.

  “Something’s not right,” Robin said, her voice lower now. “I think somebody took her.”

  “Took her?”

  “Yeah. You hear about it sometimes.”

  “Not here.”

  “Doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”

  Timmy tried to consider it. Couldn’t. There was just no way she was taken.

  “You don’t think she ran away?” he asked.

  There was a long pause and Timmy began to regret saying it.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “No,” she said. “At first I thought so, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “Why not?”

  Voices behind Robin continued to shout at Timmy’s father. Though he enjoyed having Robin on the phone, he was getting tired of hearing her family treat his dad so terribly.

  “I don’t know why,” she said. “But it doesn’t make sense. Why would she run away and only take her dresses and underthings?”

  “Well…” Timmy could hardly remember his own mindset at ten. Trying to delve into a ten-year-old girl’s mind was impossible. And a little intimidating. “I don’t know.”

  “She wouldn’t,” said Robin. “But everything here says that she did.”

  “The knife?”

  “Who knows what happened to it, but…I don’t know.”

  A woman’s voice crackled with static behind Robin, close to the phone. There were brushing sounds of the phone being moved around.

  “Robin?”

  He could faintly hear Robin talking as the other voices carried on in subtle grumblings. There were more swishing sounds, and the noise seemed to clear.

  “Okay,” said Robin. “That was my mom. I have to go.”

  “Okay,” he said. A sense of loss washed over him.

  “Are we…still on for the movie?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  She hung up before he could say it back. Timmy sat there with the dead phone to his ear, staring at the wall for several long moments. Then he leaned over the high arm of the chair, and put the phone on the cradle.

  “Time to eat!” Mom called from the kitchen. “Hurry and wash up before it gets cold!”

  The heavy clumps of Peter’s footsteps pounded in the hallway. His round head peeked in. “There you are,” he said.

  “Yeah…”

  “You look even worse than before. She dumped you already?”

  Timmy shook his head. “No.”

  Peter rolled his eyes. “Time to eat, goofy! Come on. I’m starved. You still have to tell me what all you and Robin talked about today. Man, I wish I knew her like you do!”

  Peter’s cheeks jiggled when his head turned and vanished on the other side of the doorway. Timmy heard the heavy stomps as Peter padded down the hall.

  “Smells good, Mrs. Worden!”

  “Thank you, Peter. Wash your hands.”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  Timmy took a deep breath. His stomach grumbled. Before, the rolling cramps had been caused by hunger, but now his stomach felt tight and bubbly, as if it were crinkling into a ball. Mama would make him eat his food no matter what. Hopefully he could keep it down.

  He felt funny—a little shaken up from the fact Robin Hicks had called him. But mostly his chilly unease was from what she’d said.

  Somebody took Dorothy?

  Timmy never would’ve considered such a thought. Now it seemed to haunt his mind.

  Standing up, Timmy wiped his cold, sweaty hands on his pants.

  Then he started for the kitchen.

  He wondered where Dorothy was right now.

  -14-

  The sun was gone, filling the woods in a deep blackness that brought cold temperatures with it. Lying on his stomach, Ed stared through the brush at the graveyard. Twiggy branches pressed closely together made a wall of shrubs that concealed him. He’d run back here this afternoon when he’d heard the voices in the distance.

  He’d fallen asleep after eating another peanut butter sandwich and had been shocked awake by the gasping sounds of a girl. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was, but he’d quickly remembered. Gathering up his food and weapons in a dash, he’d scurried behind some trees and ducked down behind a cluster of bushes.

  Moments later, the pair had come into view, walking in from the old dirt road. The boy walked ahead of her, a bundled blanket under his arm, a small suitcase in one hand and tugging on a length of rope that led to the girl behind him with the other. The girl, staggering to keep up, had looked very young. Arms out, her wrists had been tied together. The girl had on a dress, but was barefoot. Even from behind the bushes, Ed had been able to tell she was crying.

  The little girl was a prisoner.

  Though she'd looked only vaguely familiar, the boy was somebody Ed knew very well.

  Peter.

  “Down,” Peter snapped, jerking the rope.

  The girl cried out as she was yanked. Stumbling forward, her stomach crashed onto the ground. Rolling onto her back, she moaned. Peter had already thrown down the blanket and suitcase. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With the other hand, he fumbled with his belt. The girl had started crying when Peter pushed his pants down.

  And Ed had watched what happened next with a sickened fascination. The girl on her back, legs wide as Peter, on top, shoved wildly. Through gritted teeth, the boy had made pig sounds. It had gone on and on, twisting Ed’s stomach.

  But he couldn’t stop it.

  Too many folks would wonder why he’d been out here. So he’d laid down on his front, folded his arms above him, and buried his face in the folds.

  What was Eddie Gein doing at the old graveyard?

  I didn’t even know a graveyard was out there!

  Yep! And Eddie Gein was there!

  Good thing, or the girl could’ve been hurt worse.

  But why was he there, anyway? What business did he have?

  Why’d he have a lunchbox? Why’d he have old branches sharpened down into stakes?

  He saw himself sitting in a chair, detectives walking circles around him. One would be nice, trying to make Ed comfortable, building his trust by giving him everything he wanted. The other, crustier flatfoot wouldn’t care less about Ed’s wishes as he tugged at his tie. A cigarette dangled from his mouth. His sleeves had been rolled up and on his knuckles were scars from previous interrogations.

  No.

  The risk of too many questions had prevented Ed from intervening.

  Now, the girl was alone. Peter had left a while ago, whistling as he’d walked up the dirt path. Shortly after Peter vanished in the shaded pathway, Ed had heard the jingle of the boy’s bicycle pedaling away.

  Tied to the wrought-iron fence, hands behind her back, rope was looped around her stomach. The girl’s mouth was muzzled with a rag. Ed
could see the paleness of her body as flecks of moonlight bounced on her naked skin. She cried softly behind the gag. She’d had a blanket covering her, but it had fallen off at some point.

  When Ed had first realized the sun was going down, he’d come up with a plan—sneak over to her when it was dark, untie the ropes, and let her go. If he stayed behind her, she couldn’t see who was helping her. While she tried to figure out who’d freed her, he would have already fled through the woods.

  Gotten to his truck.

  And the hell away from here.

  Just as he’d been about to do that very thing, another idea had come on.

  Use her as bait.

  And so he’d waited and still was. Surely, the creature would come along with this girl being offered to it. How could it resist? Ed would wait until it was about to take her, then he’d attack.

  The vampire would once again be dead. The girl would be free. And she’d be able to tell what happened to her, who’d done those things to her.

  And Ed would be left out of it entirely.

  That was a better plan.

  Ed rested his chin on his forearms. His coat made a nice pillow. He thought it might be comfortable enough to nap some more, but the soft sobs coming from the girl wouldn’t allow it.

  “Who’s there?”

  Ed jerked. His heart shot into his throat.

  The girl had spoken.

  “I heard you,” she said between sniffles. “Please, help me.”

  But the gag?

  Straining his eyes to see, Ed spotted the gagging hanging around her throat like a collar. Somehow, she’d wiggled her mouth free.

  “Nobody’s here,” said Ed. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, only in his mind.

  “Somebody is there!” The girl’s sharp breaths turned squeaky. “Please! Help me. I’m tied up. This boy did…he’s hurt me so bad. I’m bleeding.”

  Ed looked through the small gaps of space between the bush’s thick branches. He could see the girl under a net of moonlight. Her head turned in all directions, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from. Her hair flew out in a pale wave each time she looked. The ring of fabric from the gag bounced on her neck.

  “Are you still there?” she asked. “Please?”

  “I’m here,” he said.

  “Thank you, Jesus, thank you. Please. Help me.”

  “I…I can’t.”

  The girl stopped moving. She looked in his direction now. Her face was smudged in shadows, her eyes deep black ovals that he could feel on his face.

  “Wuh-why not?” she asked in a pitiful voice.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  “He’ll be back,” she said. “He told me. He’ll be back and he’ll do it again. Please don’t let him, please! Untie me!”

  She squirmed against the ropes, pushing forward. The rope made dark indentions in her pale stomach. The fence made soft rattling sounds as she struggled. The fence would hold. The rope would hold. She wasn’t going anywhere no matter how hard she tried. Peter had done a good job tying her up.

  “Just stop,” Ed said. “Okay? You can’t get loose. You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”

  The girl went slack, huffing. Her head hung low, pale hair draping her face. “I just want to go home, Mister. Please, let me go home.”

  Ed’s vision turned blurry. He wiped the moisture from his eyes with a gloved finger. “I will. I promise. Just can’t right now.”

  “Why not?”

  Ed flinched at the loudness of her voice. He wished she’d be quiet. If Peter came back and heard her shouting like this, he’d know she was talking to somebody. And nobody could know Ed had been here. Nobody.

  But she knows.

  She knew somebody was here, but not that it was Ed.

  Needs to stay that way.

  “I’m setting a trap,” Ed said.

  “A…trap?”

  “Yes. He’ll come for you, I’m sure.”

  “He said he would.”

  Ed wasn’t talking about Peter, but if she thought he was, then so be it. “I know,” he said.

  “And you’ll pound him?”

  “Yes. I’ll pound him.”

  He heard the girl release a breath of relief. Her head leaned back against the bars, mouth open and pointed at the sky. Her chest rose and fell in rapid motions. “Thank you, Mister.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I hoped he’d never come back. Now I want him to hurry up. So you can pound him.”

  Ed laughed.

  He was glad to hear the girl did too.

  “Will you pound him really hard?” she asked.

  “Knock his block off.”

  “Clean off?”

  “Right off his shoulders,” said Ed. “It’ll fly in the air.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “I’ll even shrink it for you so you can hang it on your wall.”

  There was a long pause. Her mouth closed, lips pursed. She almost looked as if she were wincing. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I use a special pot on my stove to do it. I mix up this broth and let the heads soak in it. After several days, the heads just get smaller and smaller. I turn them into trinkets.”

  “Wow, that’s neat,” she said.

  “I could do that to Peter for you. Shrunken heads bring good luck. Nobody’ll mess with you if you have that.”

  “Peter? That’s his name?”

  As always, Ed had said too much. Now she knew Ed knew the boy.

  The girl shook her head. “Thought he looked familiar. I think my mama knows his mama. He said he’d seen me at Buck’s.”

  “He likes to go there,” said Ed.

  Shut up, you fool! Quit talking so damn much!

  “Me too,” said the girl. “Do you like to go there?”

  “No,” said Ed. “Not really. I don’t go to town much if I can help it.”

  “Are you ugly or something?”

  Ed snorted. “Well…”

  “Sorry. I mean, are you like the Hunchback? He never wanted to leave the bell tower because of his ugliness and the hump in his back.”

  “I’m not a hunchback,” he said. “But that’s a good story.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I like it too. I read a lot.”

  “So do I.”

  “What’s your name?”

  He couldn’t tell her his name, not his real one. Unable to think of anything quickly, he said, “Theodore.” His middle name.

  “Hi, Theodore.”

  “Hi.”

  “I’m Dorothy.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  He saw the white of her teeth as she smiled. “Thank you.”

  Ed nodded.

  A few long moments of listening to crickets and frogs passed before Dorothy spoke again. “Promise you’ll pound him?”

  “Promise.”

  “Good. I’m tired and I’m cold. I want to go sleep. Do you promise not to…you know…do what Peter did? You’re not weird, are you?”

  “I won’t.”

  “Swear?”

  “I swear.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Will you cover me up?”

  Ed saw the dark blot of the blanket bunched on the ground next to her. As if to show how cold she was, her body shivered. He didn’t want to leave her unprotected to the chilly night air, but he couldn’t just walk out there and reveal himself to her. Though he couldn’t recall where he knew her from, he was certain she’d recognize him. Everybody in Plainfield knew Ed Gein.

  “Please, Theodore? I’m so cold and I can’t cover myself.”

  “Look the other way,” said Ed.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want you…to see who I am.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t like the Hunchback?”

  Smiling, Ed said “I’m sure. Just have to keep who I am a secret.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do.”

  “Okay,” she said in a disappointed tone. Her head turned, gazin
g toward the dark chasm of the pathway. “I’m not looking.”

  “Better not look when I get over there.”

  “Just keep your hands to yourself. Please? I don’t…I’m not wearing any clothes.”

  “Well, I have to touch the blanket,” he said.

  “Just don’t touch me like Peter did.”

  “I promised I wouldn’t.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  Ed stood up, groaning as his joints popped. He’d been on the cold ground for a long time, and it felt good to stand. He stretched his back, rising onto the tips of his boots. Warmth flowed through him, tingling as his muscles loosened. With his earlier idea of freeing her, he’d mapped out his route to get to her without being seen. Only problem was, he hadn’t considered needing to cover her up. With her hands behind her, he’d planned to come in through the other side of the graveyard, crouching behind the fence to work at the ropes.

  To cover her, he’d have to move into the front.

  She better not look.

  Ed walked through woods. His movements sounded as if he was walking on an earth covered in dried oats. Dead leaves crackled and crunched with each step. Reaching the fence, he walked alongside it to reach her.

  He saw her long legs, white in the moonlight, ankles crossed. Her knees were scraped raw. She had a few scratches on her thighs and something that looked like a purple button in the crease of her inner-thigh. Darker little indentions ringed the outside.

  A bite?

  “Is that you, Theodore?” she asked.

  “Yes. Don’t look.”

  “I’m not.”

  Keeping his eyes on the back of her head, Ed bent sideways, arm swinging in the air. His hand patted around, groping until his fingers bumped the blanket. It felt cool and thick and itchy. He picked it up and

  flapped it, spreading it out. It fluttered down, covering her body. Then he pulled the edges toward her chin, curling the corners over her shoulders.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes, much better.”

  He saw her head starting to turn, so he spun around and dashed into the woods.

  “Come back!” she called.

  “No. I’m going back over here.”

  He knew if she’d gotten a glimpse of him, it was of his backside and probably too dark to tell much with the distance between them.