Fat White Vampire Blues

by Andrew J. Fox

  The pack voiced friendly, parting barks as they loped up the deserted downtown street. One by one, they transformed into clouds of mist and began drifting west. Toward Baton Rouge. Or California.

  “So long, guys,” Jules called after them, waving. “If you’re Doodlebug, thanks. If youaren’t Doodlebug, thanks. Next time we meet, the biscuits are on me.”

  Jules continued walking up Tchoupitoulas Street to where he’d parked his Cadillac. Now that he was alone he felt the weight of loneliness bearing down on him again.This ain’t over. The three words mocked him, haunted him. He didn’t want to spend an eternity fighting for turf. All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they had been. To be able to drink a cup of coffee in peace. To be able to listen to the soaring clarinets of a New Orleans jazz band without constantly looking over his shoulder. To chow down on a plate of red beans, smoked sausage, and trout almondine-well, that was pushing it, but he could dream, couldn’t he?

  A large, round shape stepped onto the sidewalk from the shadowy entrance foyer of Vic’s Kangaroo Cafй. It wasn’t a kangaroo. It was a woman. A very familiar woman.

  “Hail the conquering hero,” she said.

  It was Veronika. “You weremagnificent, darling,” she said. “I heard the whole fight sitting in our operations center. It came through loud and clear on the bugs we had the construction crews plant when Malice X built his underground compound. If only you hadn’t run away the last time we were together! I told you I could’ve helped you beat those black vampires! But you had to be a big silly and do it all on your own.”

  Jules winced and shut his eyes tightly. Was it true? If he hadn’t run out on Veronika, could he have confronted Malice X nights earlier? “I could’ve maybe polished him off before Doc Landrieu bought it,” he murmured. “Before-before Maureen…”

  He felt Veronika grab his hand and squeeze it playfully. “Oh, but it doesn’t really matter. You didgreat! Iknew you were the horse we needed to bet on. But those pansy superiors of mine wouldn’t commit to one side or the other until they’d seen ‘decisive action’ of some kind. So I helped you.”

  Jules opened his eyes. “ ‘Helped’ me? Helped mehow?”

  He saw what might’ve been the tiniest of blushes light up her cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind, dearest-I gave you a little push. You were waffling so-I wasn’t sure if you were going to fight or run away to Argentina-so I decided to give you a reason to do the right thing.”

  “What-what are you talkin‘ about?”

  “Well-llllllll…” Her dimpled face took on a Shirley Temple expression of mischief mixed with innocence. “You see, what happened was, I went to Malice X and I sort ofimplied that your friend Maureen had ratted him out to you. I thought maybe he’d rough her up some, just a little, enough to make you really angry and give you that enraged-macho-testosterone edge you needed. And it worked-I mean, Malice went a littleoverboard, the big doofus, but theimportant thing is that you finally stood up for yourself. Youkicked his sorry behind, sweetie! You’re my champion!”

  Jules felt his hand go cold and clammy in Veronika’s tight grip. He pulled loose. He’d rather have his hand up a squid’s butt hole than be touching this woman’s hand. “Gee. Thanks.”

  Her beautifully sculpted mouth arched into a frown. “Oh, now don’t go all sulky on me! It was you or them, don’t you see? I only did what I had to to make sure it would beyou! And now that you’ve proved to the agency what a good fighter you are, they’ll back you to the hilt. You can make me your vampire queen, just like we talked about before, andtogether we’ll clean out these nests of vampires here in New Orleans. Then the agency will relocate us down to Mexico or Colombia. They won’t give a hoot how many necks we bite down there. In fact, we’ll get bonus payments if we help the Drug Interdiction Force kill off some drug traffickers before they sell their poison to American children. It’s a win-win situation all around, see? Vampire paradise for two!”

  Jules felt the beginnings of nausea in his gut. He didn’t want to look at her. He stared at the worn stoop and broken sidewalk behind her. Something stirred in the shadows. Something small and furry. Jules wished they could trade places. “And what if I don’t wanna have nothin‘ to do with your ’vampire paradise‘?”

  Veronika laughed sweetly and grabbed both of his hands. “Oh Jules! Silly boy! Whoever said you’d have any choice in the matter? I have a very capable team backing me up who can track you wherever you go. And where would you run to? Back to Baton Rouge?” She laughed. “But really, darling-why would you want to turn me down? Isn’t ‘vampire paradise for two’ way,way more tempting than a nasty old stake through the heart?”

  The small, furry thing behind Veronika was a rat. A white rat. It climbed to the top of a pile of broken pavement, stood on its hind legs, and sniffed the air. Then, as if it smelled something distasteful, it dropped back down on all four legs and scurried back into a hole in the wall. Jules found himself wishing it’d been one of those see-through rats Chop had told him about, the kind whose skin was translucent because it never felt the touch of the sun. Then he could tell the old bandleader that he’d seen one, too.

  Somewhere in the dim back corners of Jules’s mind, a door opened just a smidgen, allowing a tiny crack of light to break through.

  “Jules, honey? Are you with me here? What are you staring at?”

  “Huh?” Jules blinked his way back to the real world. “Uh, nothin‘. So what’s Step One of this big plan of yours? I turn you into a vampire?”

  Veronika smiled. “That would be amarvelous way to start.”

  Jules glanced around him. “So where d’ya wanna do it? Behind the restaurant here? In my car?”

  She laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so… it’s not that I don’ttrust you, Jules my dear. But we really should do it back in the Quarter, where my associates will know to keep an eye on us while I’m between life and undeath. I wouldn’t want you to think you might be able to get away with, you know, draining me dry and then destroying mybrain stem or some such foolishness. And besides, the Quarter is so much moreromantic. Let’s do it back at my hotel. I’ve spent the last few nights at the Chateau Le Moyne Hotel on Dauphine Street.”

  “That’s not far from Arnaud’s Restaurant, right?”

  “That’s right. Arnaud’s is just a block or two away. Why?”

  “Well, after I turn you, how about we start eternity together with a nightcap at Arnaud’s? I’ll have me a joe, and I’ll treat you to a mint julep. Sound good? I’ll meet you at your hotel room in forty-five minutes.”

  Veronika raised an eyebrow. “How about we go back to my hotel roomnow. What do you need forty-five minutes for?”

  Jules ruefully brushed black soot from his jacket. “Babe, if we’re gonna celebrate at Arnaud’s, I can’t walk in there lookin‘ likethis, can I? The maоtre d’ wouldn’t let me walk through the front door. Just lemme run and get myself a change of clothes.”

  “You wouldn’t be thinking aboutbolting, would you?”

  Jules put on his best poker face. “Bolting?Heck, the thought never even crossed my mind. Tell you what. I swear, on my honor as a vampire, that I won’t leave the French Quarter. If that’s not good enough for you-well, your backup can track me anywhere, right?”

  “That’s right.” Veronika pursed her full lips. “I suppose it’ll be impossible to keep you under my thumb every second of every night for the rest of eternity. I’ll have to give you alittle rope… All right. You’ve got forty-five minutes. Onesecond longer than that and I’ll send the team out after you. And trust me-their methods are a lot less soft than mine.”

  “I can believe that.” Jules took another look at her abundant curves, so reminiscent of Maureen’s. “See ya in forty-five, babe-to not show for what we got planned, I’d hafta be a real rat.”

  Jules parked his Caddy in front of the motley collection of Spanish Colonial buildings that made up Arnaud’s Restaurant. Usually it was impossible to find a space there, but at this late hour mos
t of the diners had finished their meals, and only a few patrons lingered in the bar.

  He walked around to the back of the famous Creole institution, to where the kitchen’s rear door opened onto a narrow alleyway that held the restaurant’s Dumpster. Even Arnaud’sgarbage smelled sumptuous. Jules’s food-sensitive nose detected the odors of soft-shell crab saturated in butter sauce, crawfish Monica, chicken and andouille gumbo, and bread pudding in whiskey sauce. A traditional jazz combo of banjo, trumpet, clarinet, trombone, drums, and piano played a final chorus of “Tin Roof Blues” in a nearby Bourbon Street jazz club, granting the garbage alley the ambience of an outdoor supper club.

  A busboy exited the kitchen with a huge plastic sack in his arms. With a well-practiced windup, he tossed the sack high into the air, landing it perfectly in the Dumpster’s waiting maw.

  Jules caught his attention before he could disappear back into the kitchen. “Hey, kid? How much food would you say this place throws out every night?”

  The busboy rubbed his shoulders, strained from tossing the heavy sack. “I dunno… enough to feed an army, it feels like. Why d’you ask? You want some?”

  Something about his insolent tone was familiar. “Say,” Jules asked, “don’t I know you from someplace?”

  The busboy took a step back and looked Jules over. His eyes widened with recognition. “Yeah… Ido know you! You’re that creep who almost ran me and my girlfriend over on Decatur a month back!”

  The vampire wanna-be. So this is where he made his money. He looked different without his white body makeup, mascara, and skintight black jeans. A busboy.Not so high and haughty now, Jules thought.

  “You remember my car?” Jules asked.

  “Yeah,” the busboy replied suspiciously. “Lessee… it was a Cadillac, right? A big old white Cadillac?”

  “That’s right. You like it?”

  “What? Your car?”

  “Yeah, my car.”

  “I guess. I mean, it was kind of a phat ride, with those fins on the back.”

  Jules took his car keys from his pocket and jiggled them in front of the young man. “Well, I’m givin‘ it to ya.“

  The busboy was surprised for half a second. Then his face turned dismissive, and he waved Jules off. “You’re wacko, man. Get outta here. I’ve got work to do.”

  Jules didn’t budge. “I’m serious. The car is yours. The title’s in the glove compartment. I’ll sign it over to ya. All you gotta do is one thing in return.”

  The busboy crossed his arms, still looking dubious. “Yeah? And what would that be? If you’re lookin‘ for a suck-off, I don’t swing that way.”

  Jules cocked his thumb at the Dumpster. “All you gotta do is, every night before you leave work, make sure the lid to that Dumpster stays open.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me.”

  “That’s nuts.”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “Why do you want the Dumpster to stay open?”

  “My business. Don’t worry-you’ll never have a mess in the alleyway to clean up in the morning.”

  The busboy eyed the keys warily. “Well… how do I know this deal is on the up-and-up? Maybe the car’s stolen, or maybe there’s a body in the trunk-“ Jules tossed him the keys. ”Here. It’s parked around front. Check it out. Read the title, the registration papers, my driver’s license. They’re all there.“

  The busboy returned three minutes later. He had a cautious smile on his face.

  “So?” Jules asked.

  “Like I said, it’s a phat ride.”

  “We got us a deal then?”

  “Your driver’s license didn’t have no photo on it.”

  “My business. Deal or no deal?”

  The busboy looked at the Dumpster. Then he looked at the keys in his hand. “Deal,” he said.

  He turned back to the kitchen, but Jules grabbed his elbow before he could escape. “One more thing. You wax the Caddy every month and change her oil every three thousand miles. I’ll be watching. You let her get run-down, I’llhaunt your skinny ass.”

  Jules knocked on the door. Even up here, on the third floor of the Chateau Le Moyne Hotel, he could still hear that jazz combo playing on Bourbon Street.

  “It’sopen,” Veronika’s singsong voice answered from inside. “But only if you’re a big strong hunk of all-American male vampire.”

  Jules pushed the door open. As he’d expected, Veronika had arrayed herself on the big bed like a double-page spread from the Victoria’s Secret catalog.

  “You’re nine minutes early, darling,” she said. But her smile quickly collapsed as he entered. “You didn’t change your clothes.”

  Jules self-consciously dusted some more soot off his jacket. “Yeah, well, y’see, I got halfway there, to Maureen’s house, and then I was so, y’know,overcome withlust for you that I just hadda come right over here.”

  Veronika’s eyes sparkled, and she held out her plush arms for Jules to dive into. “Oh,goodie. I like that. A lot.”

  But instead of joining her on the bed, Jules walked quickly to the sliding door facing the balcony, unlatched it, and opened it a couple of feet. A front of warm, humid air immediately entered the room.

  “Jules? Why did you open the window? It’s summertime, sweetie-we’ve got theair on. You’re going to make my hair go all frizzy with that outside air-”

  “It’s too cold in here,” Jules said. “I’m doin‘ this for your benefit-you’ll see. When you wake up as a vampire, you’ll crave warmth the way a politician craves kickbacks. Why d’you think all them vampires in stories are always climbin’ into women’s beds? It’s notalways for the blood.”

  “Oh, allright, I supposeyou’re the expert on all this vampire stuff. But how about you make like one of those fictional vampires and climb intothis woman’s bed?”

  Jules kicked off his shoes. The fly on his trousers got stuck, so he ripped the stubborn zipper open. Heck, he wouldn’t be wearing the damn things again, anyway. Likewise, he didn’t bother unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt-he ripped it off. Veronika giggled and beamed with approval at his apparent enthusiasm. Unencumbered by his battle-soiled clothing, Jules clambered on top of her. His lips quickly found her plump neck.

  “Ooohh!”she squealed. “Darling, didn’t you want to start with, y’know, theother? Some foreplay, at least?”

  “Naww,” Jules mumbled, his fangs already probing her neck. “Let’s get down to business. Time enough for the lovey-dovey stuff later.”

  Jules was in no mood to be coy. No tender nibbles or little love bites tonight. As soon as he found her jugular, he bit down with the passionless force and precision of a punch-press machine.

  “OOOOHHH!”

  The salty liquid sprayed into his mouth like a gusher. Blood. The stuff of life. The stern words of the priest at St. Joseph’s echoed through his head:

  There is no penance unless the sinner sins no more. Will you foreswear the drinking of human blood?

  Yeah, yeah, yeah, Father, Jules thought as he gulped it down.This is the last time. After this last little blood snack, I’ll be harmless and peaceful as a little lamb. Even Jesus would approve.

  Could hereally make this the last time, though? As much as Veronika repelled him, he had to admit her blood tastedfantastic. After weeks of Maureen’s diet mixture and Doodlebug’s thin-as-water California blood, Jules had forgotten what the real thing tasted like. He hadn’t experienced anything this orgasmic since the night he’d drained Bessie out by Manchac swamp. Whatever Veronika’s other sins might be, self-denial wasn’t among them-her blood was chock-full of the fatty lipids that sent him to the moon.

  She raked his back with her nails and moaned passionately as he sucked harder and harder. “Yes, darling, ohyes yes yes…”

  Boy oh boy, did she have a lot of blood in her! He tried desperately to focus on his original intent. What he was planning to do-there might be no way back. Even Doodlebug had never tried splitting into more than five bodies at on
e time. He might subdivide himself so far that his personality, his will, his essence would disappear. Could he live with that?

  “Drink me in, baby, drink me all up-I made my blood all sweet and luscious, just for you, Jules baby…”

  You canhavethe things you’ve always wanted, but to get them, you might have to look at them in a new way…that’s what Doodlebug had written him, and he believed it now. And what were the things he really wanted? Mouthwatering New Orleans food. Soul-warming New Orleans jazz. The sounds and tastes and smells of his city, and the peace to enjoy them.

  And Maureen. But he couldn’t have Maureen.

  “Oh baby, make me your queen-make me yourqueen, baby-we’re almost there-king and queen of the vampires forever…”

  Maureen. She was his queen. No one else.

  He forced himself to stop drinking. Jules pulled his lips away from her neck and crouched above her weakly twitching body. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He’d almost lost control, almost gone all the way.

  “… babe… baby, why’re you stopping? Don’t stop… don’t stop now… I’m almostthere, I can feel it… almost a vampire… finish… finish me off, Jules-”

  Jules concentrated on tiny trains racing over tiny tracks for perhaps the final time. His great naked bulk began to shimmer.

  “Jules!Finish meoff!”

  Just before his lips melted, he said, “Fuck you and the bureaucrat you rode in on-”

  The king-sized bed vanished beneath a cloud of oily mist. Veronika began to scream as multitudes of tiny, clawed feet materialized and ran across her prone body. She screamed louder and louder as the mist cleared and she saw who the feet belonged to.

  Rats. White rats. Dozens and dozens of them; 187 in all. Seven hundred and forty-eight clawed feet scurried across her tummy, breasts, and legs on their way across the bed to the open window. Nearly two hundred pink, hairless tails twittered across her fingers, kneecaps, and nose before sliding from sight over the balcony.