Monsters in the Midwest ( Book 1): Wisconsin Vamp

by Scott Burtness

  “Thanks, Herb. I mean it. I haven’t really talked to anyone the past few days. Thanks for listening. Sorry it sounds all crazy, but still. Thank you.”

  Herb looked deep into Lois’s eyes, all his nervousness and insecurities blown away, dandelion fluff in a summer breeze. Reaching out to trace her cheek with his thumb, he replied, “I’ll always be here for you Lois. No matter what happens, no matter how weird. Just know that I’ll be here.”

  The grateful smile she gave him before turning to walk into Ronnie’s was the closest thing to the sun Herb had seen in weeks, and it lit up his world for the rest of the night.

  Chapter 40

  Herb hadn’t seen Dallas, and had carefully dodged his phone calls. It must’ve been rough for Dallas, waiting for Deloris to go through major surgery. The voicemails alone were pretty telling.

  “Holy crapballs, Herb. Where the hell you been? Do you do anything besides work nights anymore? Shit. I’m going crazy here. Patt took back the loaner, said he needed it for another customer. Can you believe that shit? So anyway. I’m, ah. Well, old D is kinda stuck here, and he’s kinda going crazy. So c’mon. Pick up. Pickuppickuppickup. Get me outta here. Let’s go to Steins. Or better yet, we should get some pizza. I need me some pizza. Hello? Ok you hose bag. I’m calling Stanley.” Force of nature that Dallas was, he didn’t handle inaction well. Better luck telling the Tasmanian Devil to sit still and watch paint dry. Old habits die hard, and Herb had been hard pressed not to jump into his car and head straight over to Big D’s place. But then he remembered Deloris upside down in the ditch, Lois’s torn shirt, blood flowing freely from that gash across her brow. Each image was burned into his brain, tinting all of his other thoughts red. Dallas could stew in his own shit for all he cared. If he was bored he could build a card house, or watch infomercials, or hang himself from the rafters and save Herb the trouble. He knew he couldn’t avoid Dallas forever, but still wasn’t ready to face his best friend.

  Sooner than Herb would’ve liked, Deloris was patched up and Dallas was on the loose again. Their unavoidable confrontation came around eleven p.m. when Dallas pulled into Ronnie’s. It was a slow night. Dee had only had a handful of tables, and had spent much of her shift alternating between catching up on the recorded soaps that she brought in, and reading the “missed-connections” section of one of Madison’s trashier papers. Herb was in the kitchen when he heard Dallas blow into the diner with his usual gusto. Herb’s first reaction was fear for Lois, followed by instant relief when he remembered she wasn’t working that night. Shifting to better see out the serve-through, he watched Dallas stride into the diner.

  “Damn. This place is a ghost town. Where the hell is everyone? Oh, hey George! How’s it hanging? Over the belt as usual I see, eh Georgie-porgy?”

  Herb heard George, a long-haul trucker that regularly passed through Ronnie’s to and from his hubs, growl back, “Up yours, Dallas. Them mamby-pamby pretty boys in Madison can have their six-packs. I prefer the party ball.” Rubbing his ample belly appreciatively, he added, “Plus, it helps me steer the rig when I’m eating. You should get one. Might help you keep your wheels on the ground.”

  Dallas barked out a brittle laugh. “Good one George! Too true. A little extra weight on the cab probably does help keep her steady. Thanks for the tip.” Looking around, he asked to no one in particular, “Who’s on tonight?”

  “Not Lois,” Dee snapped, appearing from the back with George’s check. “Need anything else, George?” When he shook his head, Dee dropped his check on the table, scooped up his empty plate and finally spared a glance for Dallas.

  “Herb will take care of you, Dallas,” she said, her usually warm voice suddenly and significantly cooled. “Herb,” she called into the kitchen, “I’ll be in the break room watching my soaps. Let me know if a table comes in, ‘k?” Without another word, Dee whipped her head around and vanished, her disappearance followed by the slam of the break room door.

  Dallas swung around, mounted a stool at the Formica counter. Tall as he was, he could easily see over the serve through window into the kitchen while seated. After settling on the stool, he looked up, eyes suddenly staring directly into Herb’s. Both men registered mild surprise at the hostility they saw reflected back at themselves. Dallas’s smile stopped at his mouth as he said, “Well, it’s my old buddy Herby! Haven’t seen you in a while. How’re things?”

  Herb wiped his hands off on his apron, eyes never leaving Dallas’s. “Oh, you know. Same shit, different day. You need some food? I imagine flipping trucks works up quite an appetite.”

  “It was an accident, no one got hurt. Lois knows that, and she knows I’m sorry. So let’s not make it a thing, ok?” Dallas growled. “Like I said, an accident. From the beating Deloris took, I know it was pretty bad. Guess it’s a miracle that Lois came out ok and me with just a few bumps and bruises. Damn, I love that truck. Whatever the hell ripped her apart like that, she still looked out for Lois and me.” Dallas shifted on the stood, striking a thinker’s pose on the counter. “Now that’s the thing though. What did rip her apart like that? It’s like some crazy monster went all Hulk-smash on my poor Deloris. Flipped her over, smashed a window, and ripped the doors right off.”

  Dallas paused as Herb walked around the window through the swing door and came to stand across from Dallas behind the counter. He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. Keeping his face blank, Herb replied, “Yeah. Real shame about your truck.”

  “Deloris. Her name is Deloris, Herb. Show some respect. You never hear me say, “That piece of shit hatchback,” or “that crappy hamster trap.” Dallas still wore the painted-on smile, and the paint was starting to chip and peel.

  “Ok. Geez. I heard De-Lor-Is got roughed up. Must’ve been a helluva flip. I’m,” Herb’s throat worked for a moment to choke up the words, “just glad you’re OK. And Deloris too,” he added, with a quick glance toward where Deloris’s freshly repaired grill was visible through the diner’s window.

  “Yup. Everyone’s fine Herby. Thanks for that. Sucks, though. Me and Lois, we were having a good time that night before it all went to hell. Now she seems all pissed at me. Blaming me for what happened. Like it’s my fault Deloris flipped like that. But we both know that’s not true,” he added in a conspiratorial tone.

  “Well, actually, Dallas. She does think that’s true. You were drunk and you lost control and you flipped the truck. I was surprised to hear that, ‘cause I know you can handle your booze and all. But it sounds like you...” tried to molest her and your stupid drunk ass lost control of the truck in the process, “...must’ve been drunker than you thought, huh?”

  Dallas leveled an even stare at Herb. “I didn’t mean me and Lois. I meant me and you. Me. And. You. We know that’s not true, right?”

  Herb returned Dallas’s accusatory look with his own confused scowl. He didn’t want to deal with Dallas right now. He was having enough trouble keeping his cool already without Dallas making vague allegations of… what exactly, Herb wasn’t sure. The whispers were circling again like a murder of angry crows. With a forced shrug, Herb turned back toward the door to the kitchen.

  “Not sure what you’re getting at Dallas.”

  “No? Huh. Oh well. Hey, did you hear about that dead guy they found in the woods?” Dallas asked.

  Herb’s shoulders tensed, muscled corded like tree roots. “Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I might’ve heard some guys talking about that. Some tourist, drank too much, tripped in the trees and broke his neck, right?

  “Oh is that what happened?” Dallas asked after letting the silence stretch thin.

  Herb huffed. “Look Dallas, I gotta work. You need something to eat, or a Coke or something?”

  The smile-that-wasn’t-a-smile pulled Dallas’s lips back even tighter across his teeth. “Sure, Herby. I’d love something to eat. You guys still serve that turkey dinner with the garlic mashed potatoes?”

  “Yup. I’ll get it going for ya. Gimme a few and it’ll be right up,” H
erb called over his shoulder without looking back.

  “That’d be great Herby. Just fine indeed! Oh, and lots of garlic in those potatoes, ok? I heard garlic is a cure-all for all kinds of problems. Like bloodsuckers.”

  Herb stopped in mid-stride, understanding crawling over him like a wave of angry cockroaches. Speaking through a suddenly dry throat, Herb asked, “Bloodsuckers? What, you mean like skeeters or tics or something?”

  Dallas had pulled his ever-present pocket knife out and began to studiously clean his fingernails. Without looking up, he drawled, “Why yes. I think it must’ve been Stanley that told me that one. You know how Stanley is, all that crazy stuff that sticks in his bird-brain like sweater fuzz to a five-o’clock shadow. I guess garlic is good for keeping away nasty little bloodsuckers. Seems to be the case that they just can’t stand the stuff. So yep, lots of garlic in those taters, Herb. Oh, and a Coke would be fine.”

  Herb moved automaton-like as he grabbed a glass, filled it with ice and Coke and set it on the counter for Dallas. Heading back into the kitchen to start cooking up a turkey dinner, his mind whirled. Was that true? He did see in those movies that vamps hated garlic. Well, in some of the movies. Which ones, though? And was it true? He’d made a lot of garlicky food since his change, but had never thought to try and eat any. Herb tried to think back to the last time he’d handled a bulb of garlic. Did his eyes water more than normal? Did he get a rash or loose bowels? He couldn’t seem to remember, which made him think he was probably in the clear. But then again... A lot of other things he’d learned about vamps in the movies were true. He was crazy strong, could see in the dark, and sunlight left him crispy as the unlucky pig at the luau. But he couldn’t fly, his face didn’t get all weird when he turned, and despite being stronger and faster, he never really mastered kung fu. He could whammy folks into thinking just about anything, and mirrors for the most part just ignored him...

  Whammy. Herb’s mind did a double-take. That’s it, he thought. Make the potatoes garlic-free, do a quick whammy and Dallas would think they were the best garlic mashed taters outside of Eden. Better safe than sorry, right? Smiling a devious smile, Herb set himself to the task of making Dallas’s dinner.

  Less than ten minutes later, Herb brought out the promised meal, and set it on the counter. Dallas looked up as he approached. If Herb could still cast a reflection, he’d have seen two of himself reflected back in Dallas’s mirrored aviator shades. As it was, he saw two of his shirt and apron, and a floating plate piled high with steaming slices of turkey breast, peas and carrots and a healthy mound of mashed potatoes.

  “Bright in here, ain’t it?” Dallas asked with a smile. “Hope you don’t mind.” Grabbing his fork, Dallas scooped up a helping of potatoes, held them to his nose and inhaled deeply. Frowning, he put the fork in his mouth and chewed slowly. “Herby, you disappoint me. You call these garlic potatoes? Christ on a stick. I’m gonna have to fill out one of them comment cards Ronnie’s got over there. Tell him his best chef can’t seem to find the garlic. Nope, not a happy customer. At. All.”

  Herb leveled his look at Dallas. Staring into where he assumed his eyeballs were behind the shades, Herb quietly said, “But Dallas. Those are garlic mashed potatoes. In fact, they’re probably the best garlic mashed potatoes you’ve ever had. Isn’t that right?” Smiling, Herb waited for Dallas’s face to go slack and him to agree that yes, they were good potatoes, the garlic was great, and they were the best he’d ever had. Instead, Dallas drew his mouth into a tight line. Standing suddenly, he grabbed his plate and walked over to where George was finishing his coffee and counting out nickels onto the table.

  “George! How are ya, big fella. OK. Sorry to intrude. Take a taste of these here potatoes. No, it’s ok. Herb’s just trying to mess with me, but he should know by now that no one messes with old Dallas.” Dropping the plate on the table, Dallas prodded George with a smile. “C’mon George. Take a forkful and tell me if there is or is no garlic. I say is no. Herby says is so. So which is it?”

  “C’mon guys. I gotta get back on the road. I don’t have time to get dragged into your horseplay again. Maybe next time.” Sliding the plate back toward Dallas, George called out to Dee as she was coming out of the ladies room. “Much thanks, sweetheart. Cash is on the table.” With a dismissive wave, George ambled past them and toward the door, his belly swaying in rhythm to his steps.

  “G’night George. Thanks for the nickels! My kid’s gonna love ‘em. Piggy bank’s halfway full!” Dee called after him as she walked around to collect the tab. Her wave to George turned into a quick flip of the bird at Dallas before she walked straight back to the break room.

  “Well shit. Everyone really thinks I’m the asshole, huh?” Dallas lamented as he picked up his plate and carried it back to the counter. “So. Back to these potatoes. There’s no garlic. God’s own truth.”

  Herb leaned closer, staring at the shiny curved glass perched on Dallas’s nose. “They are garlic potatoes.”

  “Are not.”

  “Yes, and they’re the best damn garlic taters you’ve ever had!”

  “Nope. Why you being so weird about it? I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. Here, try some. You’ll see.”

  As Dallas pushed the plate toward Herb, Herb took a clumsy swipe at his sunglasses. Dallas leaned back, causing Herb’s hand to just brush the tip of his nose instead of connecting with the shades.

  “Whoah ho ho! What’s this now? Getting feisty? What’s the matter Herb? If even you won’t eat your cookin’, how d’you expect someone else to?” Dallas stepped off the stool and reached around behind his back, causing Herb to tense suddenly.

  “Easy buddy. Wow, you’re tense. Just getting a little cashola for the din-din here. Though why I should pay when I didn’t get what I ordered beats me.” Flashing his wallet, brown leather with an eagle in bright colors on the face, Dallas dropped a ten on the counter. “But hey, I’m not hungry. Just thought I’d drop by, see what I’d see. And I guess I’ve seen enough. Catch you later Herb.” Sliding his mirrored shades down the bridge of his nose, Dallas’s steely eyes peered out over the frame and drilled into Herb’s. With a mean smile, the kind of smile you give the cow right before the bolt hits it square between the eyes, Dallas asked, “Maybe you want to come round to my place tomorrow? I’m gonna be, uh, fixin’ a few things round the yard. Be nice to have an extra set of hands, catch up a bit, get some sun.” Dallas used his extended middle finger to slide his glasses back up his nose. “Whaddaya say?”

  Still stewing over his stymied whammy, Herb grunted, said, “Uh. Sorry. Maybe next time. Gonna be here all night, and I probably won’t wake up ‘til it’s time to head back to work.”

  Dallas tipped an imaginary hat on his head, and turned toward the door. “Thought not. Guess I’ll manage. But you really should get out more Herby. You’re lookin’ a little pale. A little sunshine would probably do you, or at least me and Lois, a world of good.”

  The clomp of Dallas’s cowboy boots on the diner floor had the sound of nails being driven into a coffin. Long after Deloris had roared to life and raced out of Ronnie’s lot, Herb still stood by the counter. Many thoughts chased their tails through his mind, piling onto each other, cawing for his attention, and then scurrying back into the dark corner of his mind. But one thought, one dark thought kept crawling back into the light: Herb should’ve ripped Dallas’s throat out when he had the chance.

  Chapter 41

  “Karaoke? I, um. R-really? Like, with me? And you? You mean like together?” All of Herb’s affected cool had fallen like ice from a warming roof, leaving him a hot mess. Lois’s proposal was something he’d never anticipated, not in a million years, even considering how things had been better lately. Herb didn’t know what to think. The previous week she’d really opened up to him, and then last night Dallas had basically spelled out in crayon that he knew Herb was a vamp. And now tonight, here was Lois asking him, him on a karaoke date. What a difference a day makes, he thought with a
n inward grin. However weird his life had been recently, if a date with Lois was the end result, then every single moment was worth it.

  “Of course with you! I just thought you seem to know Bay City Bowlers pretty well, what being this year’s big bowling champ and all, and figured you might want to head over there tomorrow, since we both have the night off and all.” Lois smiled, but there was an unexpected nervousness beneath it, something he wasn’t accustomed to seeing in her. It took him a moment, but he belatedly realized that she was worried he’d say no. The realization almost made him laugh out loud. Him? Say no to a date with her? Not frickin’ likely.

  Sweeping one arm behind his back and the other across his waist, Herb bowed. “I would be honored to escort you on an evening of karaoke and merriment. In fact,” he continued, straightening, “there’s actually nothing in the entire world that I would enjoy more.”

  Lois blushed prettily, smiling in her special way. With a sideways glance and a mischievous tone, she asked, “You’re sure Jenni’s not gonna mind? You two made quite the pair at the finals, after all...”

  “You were at the finals?” Herb gasped in shock. “I mean, like, really there? You saw me bowl?”

  “Toward the end. I didn’t really see the game, but I heard all about it later. I mean c’mon. It was all anyone talked about for a week! You and Dallas rolling like a couple of bowling gods. The tramp twins cat fight, Dallas taking a swing at you. I guess I wish I had seen all that. I wouldn’t have made the mistake of going on a date with him.” She smiled away the bad memories. “But I did see you guys riding the crowd to the bar after, all home town heroes and what-not. Seems like Jenni was quite enamored with you,” she added with a sly grin. “So, like I said. She’s not gonna mind if I steal you for an evening, is she?”