by David Teves
I looked at him like he was crazy. "Why, Ferris? Have you forgotten all your training? That's a narrow road going up that mountain. Too many things can go wrong!"
Carl and Quentin looked at each other uncomfortably, but only Quentin showed any common sense. "He's right, Ferris. It might be a tad faster, but it's risky."
"What's risky about it?" Ferris asked. "It's almost a straight shot to the coast."
"Too many places for them to hide," I added. "You know that as well as I do. As I recall you were as nervous about this trip as I was. Why go that way, Ferris?"
Ferris sighed and looked at us forlornly. "It's Eunice. Her Daddy had a cabin up there when she was growing up, and she always loved that road as it came off the mountain and curved down to the beach."
"Shit!" I exclaimed. "Ferris, We all love Eunice and want to accommodate her, but this is crazy! The next thing you'll tell me is that she wants to go at night."
Ferris looked guilty. He knew we were right, and he knew he was stretching our friendships to the breaking point.
"Hell, going over the pass is nothing for Elvis," Carl said, breaking the tension. "Let's stop this wringing of hands and just do it! We'll all be back drinking straight shots at El Gato by dinner time!"
There was no more arguing. I decided that since the very idea of going to Carmel was stupid, the route we took didn't matter that much. Chances were nothing would happen anyway, and if something did happen, it would happen no matter what steps we took to prevent it.
At 7:00 AM Carl and Quentin picked me up in front of the small bungalow I had lived in since moving to Gilroy, and we went over to Denny's for breakfast. The morning was bright and cloudless, but my mood hadn't cleared much since the night before. Carl was as talkative as ever, recounting Elvis' virtues and how we had nothing to worry about.
"Hell, this ain't nothing, nothing at all," he kept insisting. "Just a little jaunt to the beach, that's all!"
I kept hoping he was right, but there was a knot my stomach that was as hard as a golf ball.
Quentin said little except to tell his brother to stop jawing and get to eating his eggs and pancakes so we could hit the road.
We arrived at Ferris and Eunice's house an hour later. The old clap board house looked like it was still closed up for the night; the shades were drawn, the porch light still on. The morning paper sat deserted on the lawn.
The three of us looked at each other when we pulled up. Carl was suddenly quiet. I opened the rear door and walked up the old, cracked sidewalk that led to the porch, Carl and Quentin following behind. The lawn hadn't been cut in a couple of weeks, and that disturbed me. Ferris loved working in the yard and over the years had transformed it from a patch of dirt into a neat, flowery garden.
When my foot hit the first step, the front door opened and Ferris' unshaven face appeared from behind the screen door, his black suspenders standing out over his white T-shirt.
"She's getting weaker by the moment, boys," he said. "Let's get this done."
Eunice was sitting on an old wingback chair, holding on to a straw garden hat like it was about to fly away. She was dressed in a colorful silk blouse with matching pants. Her hair didn't look quite right, and I realized that it was Ferris who had had to comb it in place. Bea didn't approve of her sister leaving town in her condition and didn't want anything to do with what she called a "suicide mission". Bea was the only one of us with a lick of common sense.
"Hello, Eunice," I offered.
She looked right through me, as if it had been the faded yellow wallpaper behind me that had spoken to her.
Ferris put a hand on my shoulder. "She's not in good shape, Ruben. I gave her twice the medication. If Doc Henson knew what we were doing, I'm sure he'd object."
"Let's give him a buzz, then," Quentin said sarcastically from behind us. He was not afraid to say what I was thinking.
Ferris turned and glared. Quentin returned the stare, and then appeared to regret his remark. "Let's get going, Ferris," he said quietly. "It's a fine day to get your toes wet."
We closed up the house and climbed into the Travelall. Carl drove with me riding shotgun. Quentin and Ferris sat in the back with Eunice propped between them. In the rear sat a picnic basket Bea had assembled in spite of her disapproval.
Carl navigated through the streets of Gilroy, aiming the Travelall north along the Monterey highway until we turned west onto a rural road that headed toward the mountains.
I rode in silence, feeling a mixture of emotions, but my unease at leaving our safe haven was muted by the exhilaration of being on the move again, of the joy of being on the open road, of pretending to be going someplace for no other reason than it was a sunny day.
Carl beamed and for good reason. In spite of its shabby appearance, the Travelall purred like a kitten, its engine and transmission nimbly eating up the steep twisting roads that took us up the mountain. "You did good, Carl," Quentin said to his twin, reading his mind the way twins do. "Daddy would be proud."
There was silence for a moment. Even at our advanced age it was difficult to think about the fate of our loved ones. Where had they gone? How had they lived? They were frustrating questions for we knew we would never know the answers.
We reached the summit of Hecker Pass and made our way down the mountain, admiring the view of the Pacific Ocean. Then, after passing through the town of Watsonville, we turned south on Highway 1 down the coast of the Monterey Bay. Carmel was just beyond the south end of the bay, an isolated pocket of unsurpassed beauty near the scenic 17 Mile Drive and the world famous Pebble Beach golf course.
A half hour later we turned off the road and entered the town. "There it is," Eunice said in a frail voice. It was the first words she had uttered since we had left the house. She pointed a bony finger at a Spanish-style two-storey hotel with the red tile roof. The hand-carved wooden sign outside read "Carmel-by-the-Sea Inn".
"Victor and I spent our honeymoon there forty-three years ago this past summer," she explained, referring to her first husband. Her cloudy blue eyes were full of memories, and her mouth quivered slightly as she spoke. "The beach is right up there. Let's hurry, Ferris! Let's see it together."
Eunice seemed to be transformed before us. The frail, dying old lady who held onto her straw hat as if it was a railing over an abyss was gone, and in her place was the memory of a young, vital woman who had her entire life stretched before her.
There was no place to park the truck at the end of the road, and a rock wall separated the asphalt street from the creamy sand. Carl pulled to the end, stopped the truck and looked over at me. "Think it's safe to let them out here?"
I nodded in the affirmative. "You take her, Ferris," I replied. "I'll follow along just in case. Carl, you and Quentin go and find a place to park this heap and meet us back here."
That seemed like a good plan though I suspect I hurt Carl's feelings by calling Elvis a heap. Ferris helped Eunice out, and Quentin went to ride up front. I stepped out of the truck, stretched my legs and took in a big breath of salt air. I had to admit I was glad to be there, away from the smell of garlic and the hot Central California sun. The air was crisp and sweet and the sound of the waves was like music to my ears.
I suppose you're wondering why it was necessary to keep such a close eye on Ferris and Eunice. Well, I don't like talking about vampires much, but since I'm the one who started this tale, I suppose a brief explanation is in order.
Though it's true that vampires are nocturnal, the concept of them sleeping in a coffin during the day or being burned up if touched by sunlight is a myth. The simple truth is that a vampire's body rhythms are the opposite of ours. Their energy levels drop considerably during the daylight hours, and most use that time of increased vulnerability to rest, but that doesn't mean they all go into hiding. Many vampires move about in the daylight hours and can be as dangerous as angry hornets. As I watched my two friends anxiously I wondered, did vampires occasionally go to the beach?
Eunice leane
d against the rock wall, took off her shoes, and held them delicately in one hand like a child. She took Ferris by the arm and together they navigated through the narrow opening in the wall and headed toward the water. I followed a respectful distance behind, hoping that this day of memories and bliss would not be disturbed by something we would all later regret.
There were no regrets that day. Carl and Quentin joined us twenty minutes later, complaining that they had to leave Elvis parked on a side street four blocks away. Together we kept a watchful eye as Ferris and Eunice walked along the surf, talking and laughing like a young couple in love.
After the beach we strolled through the streets of the town, visiting the tourist shops like children on vacation. Ferris bought Eunice a dozen delicate paper flowers, which she clutched to her bosom as if they were a bride's bouquet. Carl bought a T-shirt with "Old Guys Rule" brazened across its front. Quentin bought some high-quality folding paper.
We ate the picnic lunch together on the beach, enjoying the day and the warm glow generated by Ferris and Eunice. Quentin shyly folded his paper napkin in the shape of an exotic bird, and Carl talked on about anything that entered his head. I watched it all, glad that I had these people to call my friends, glad that I had a chance to go with them to a beautiful place like Carmel.
Now all we had to do was get home.
The day slipped by quickly and by the time we readied to leave it was almost 4:00--later than we had planned, but still plenty of time to get home before the sun set at 6:42. Carl wheeled Elvis back to our drop-off point, and we all piled in for the ride home.
During our stay in Carmel there hadn't been a hint of trouble, and I was beginning to think that the vampires didn't care about four dried up old prunes like us. Perhaps our retirement years were just that; a well deserved rest from taking care of mankind's ugly business.
We drove north up Highway 1 with the ocean on our left and the mountains on our right, enjoying the afternoon sun and the memory of the day. Traffic was heavier than we expected, and it was more than an hour before we reached the curving road that led up Hecker Pass.
Twenty minutes later near the crest, a blue Chevy pickup carrying two tanked-up cowboys crossed the double yellow line and thrust past us on the curve.
"Holy shit!" Carl screamed as the truck passed, almost making a fresh dent in Elvis' well-worn body before it disappeared around the pine trees that boarded the turn. "That idiot is going to get hisself killed!"
He had no more than uttered the words when a grinding crash echoed from up ahead. Carl instinctively hit the brakes, and as we slowed through the curve I saw a scene that would stay with me for a long time.
The Chevy had hit a loaded Freightliner diesel full force, smashing itself against the grill like a gigantic blue bug on a windshield. Even from the distance of fifty yards it was obvious to us that no one could have survived such an impact. Smoke and steam was rising from the wreck like a spent firework.
"Oh, my Lord!" Eunice said holding a hand to her cheek.
Carl fought the Travelall to a stop, and I quickly opened the door. "Wait here!" I commanded. "I'll see if there is anything I can do."
I had no sooner closed the door when the speeding blur of a red sports car rounded the curve behind us. What followed was so bizarre it was almost comical. The driver was quick, and if he had spotted us just a moment sooner he might have avoided what followed. The slope to his left fell into a deep canyon, leaving him with only one way to go. He yanked his wheel toward the hillside, hoping the embankment would slow him down. Instead, the Nissan Z car rolled up the side of the hill flew up into the air and landed on its top, spinning across the hardpan like some giant Frisbee gone wild.
Carl had the presence of mind to slam the Travelall into gear and pull it forward to avoid a rear collision. The Z came to rest within feet of us, sprawled across the narrow road.
Within seconds three more cars came to the party, first hitting the Z and then piling into each other with abandon. It was like an instant replay of those a multi-car race crashes you see on ESPN.
For a moment we could only gawk at the events unfolding around us, and thank the Lord we hadn't been killed. But as the dust cleared we quickly realized we had escaped one predicament only to find ourselves in another: the road was hopelessly blocked in both directions. We were sandwiched in between the two crash sites without a chance of escaping up or down the hill.
The next few minutes were spent helping the crash victims. The four of us put aside our worries to help out where we could. The two cowboys in the blue truck had been killed instantly, but the driver of the Freightliner miraculously escaped unharmed, save for a cut on his forehead and a bewildered look on his face.
Those behind us fared better. The drivers and their passengers emerged from their cars confused and shaken, wandering around the accident scene waiting for help to come. The owner of the Nissan limped to the curb and threw up the remains of his lunch on his suit. Our little troop was unharmed, but we now nervously found ourselves in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation.
Quentin checked his watch and gauged the dying light. "It's getting close to 6:00," he said tensely. "Less than an hour before sunset!"
"I can hear the sirens coming now," Ferris assured him. "We'll be out of this in no time."
"Bullshit!" Quentin replied, looking at us deeply. "It'll be at least an hour before the tow trucks unblock this mess, and the police will want to take our statements. It'll be way past dark before we're on the road again." He blinked hard. "It's been more than ten years since Carl and I tangled with a vampire, and as I recall the last one almost took us. That's when we knew it was time to hang it up. We weren't young then, and we sure as hell ain't any younger now! If they find us, well, I suspect this time things will come out a lot worse."
"Amen," Carl added with uncharacteristic restraint.
"I think you might be wrong on this one, Quentin," I replied. "Vampires have bigger fish to fry than us four old geezers. But I'll tell you what; just to be on the side of caution we'd better make some plans. Planning is what kept us alive all those years!"
Ferris didn't argue. He was too worried about Eunice. "What do we do?" he asked.
"We can start with this," Carl announced. We followed him around to the back of the truck where he opened the rear cargo doors. "Got some things back here left over from the old days," he said. "Thought it would be good to bring it along."
Carl lifted an old carpet scrap that covered the rear floor to reveal two panels cut into the bed and fender wall of the Travelall. "I modified Elvis a few years back to keep the stuff Quentin and I would need on a hunt," he explained. He opened the bottom panel for us to see. Eighteen wooden stakes were carefully mounted on custom metal holders. They were made out of sharpened dowels about six inches in diameter and ten inches long. Along the top was mounted one long stake, more like a spear, about four feet long. Across the bottom lay two Craftsman sledgehammers and a double-bladed long axe.
"God damn!" I muttered.
"Solid oak," he said sliding out two of the stakes. He handed one to me and one to Ferris like a man showing off his prized bowling trophies. "Made them myself, just like Daddy taught us."
I tossed the stake between my hands, feeling its weight and balance. I wasn't much of a stake man, though I had used one now and again. I picked up the long ax. It was more to my liking. Decapitation could be messy, but it was quick and had a way of assuring you that when the job was finished, it would stay finished. If executed correctly, no vampire would ever be able to find a head to attach to its body."
"Excellent, Carl," I said. "What's the spear for?"
"Oh, that's part of a secret weapon I once thought I'd use," he said cryptically.
Before he could elaborate Ferris asked, "What's in the side case?" The look on his face said he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.
Carl grinned and opened the panel like a jeweler showing off his best diamonds. The case contained a dozen cr
ucifixes of different sizes and styles. There were a half dozen bottles of holy water, and enough garlic cloves for several dozen Caesar salads. "Nice, huh?" he asked.
Our mutual admiration of Carl's vampire hunting equipment was interrupted by Eunice's frail voice. She had wandered away from us and was standing by the side of the truck. "My father's cabin was that way," she said, pointing toward the trees near the wrecked pick up.
Four startled faces turned in the direction of her outstretched hand, and for the first time we spotted the hint of an overgrown, narrow trail leading from the road up the hill.
Ferris went to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "How can you be sure of that, honey?" he asked. "It's been so many years!"
Eunice threw him a cold look. "I'm sick, Ferris, but I'm sure not senile. I spent my summers up here when I was a girl, and I'd know that trail anywhere. The Freeman's cabin is just down the road. I saw it as we drove past. That means the old logging road would be just around the next bend, and here it is. It goes clear over the pass."
Carl moved up behind them, jumping at the significance of Eunice's discovery. "This is important, Eunice," he said. "Are you sure that trail leads toward town?"
For a second she looked uncertain. She withdrew her hand slightly, and her pale blue eyes seemed to focus on some internal map. She stood there, her hand trembling with indecision, trying to remember a path not taken in many, many years.
"See here, Carl," Ferris interrupted. "You can't ask Eunice...”
"Oh, hush up, Ferris," she said with surprising strength. "I see it clear as yesterday. The trail leads to town all right. Comes out by the Dillian winery. That place hasn't changed in fifty years."
"What are you thinking, Carl?" I asked.
"I'm thinking we're going to have to take some action of our own before we're stuck here. I'm thinking we all should just hop into Elvis and get this business over with."
