by Zoey Kane
FIVE
Zo grabbed a candle from off her wall and Claire quickly assisted in lighting it, before they creaked open their incredibly heavy chamber door. They padded along the cold, hard floor of the second story barefoot. Another chamber door burst open, and out came someone else jogging down the hall ahead of them.
When the three reached the room they guessed the scream had come from, its door was locked.
Claire banged on the door. “Was that you? Are you okay?”
“It … was me,” came a quivering voice.
“Open your door,” said the third person, who they now saw was Frank.
The intricately carved doorknob turned, and before them stood a short balding man, clad only in his pajama bottoms, his face looking nothing but pale in the light of Zo’s candle.
“What on Earth happened?” Zo inquired.
“I saw her,” he choked out.
“Who?” the three asked.
“Isobel. The woman they say is haunting the old cemetery.”
Frank’s excitement visibly deflated. “This is what you screamed about? This is why you got us up?”
Lenora and Beth soon showed up, each with their own candle and nightcap.
“You two stayed the night?” Claire asked them.
“Fog,” Beth answered, and then turned to the terrorized stranger. “You say you saw Isobel?”
“Y-yes,” the little pot-bellied man with a fringe of hair surrounding his bald head, stammered. “She was in my room a moment ago. She had long black hair and a nightgown, just like the legend says.”
Claire stepped into the room and turned in a circle. His chamber was round, with not even a bathroom attached—he’d have to go down the hall for that. Occupying the space was just a bed and nightstand, with a suitcase neatly waiting under the window. “Could you have had a nightmare?” she asked.
“No.”
Frank said at the same time, “Yes!”
“I swear she really was here. I could even smell her lavender scent,” the little ol’ man said.
Everyone took some sniffs and apparently couldn’t verify any scent.
“I was fully awake,” he went on. “All my senses are awake, although I feel a little sleepy.”
The ghostbuster sighed heavily after inspecting the room himself and looking out the window. “Not possible,” he swiftly concluded, before pushing his way between Lenora and Beth on the way out. He said over his shoulder, “Quit reading ghost stories!”
Claire looked down at the man, as she was a full head taller than him, and asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
“I-I think so…”
Lenora and Beth went to either side of him, looking him over intently. “We haven’t seen you here before,” Beth said.
“I’ve been busy seeing the sights, though I checked in here a couple days ago. Sorry, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting a real ghost. Actually, it’s something for my diary. I, uh, keep a diary.” He still looked shaken.
“Are you going home now?” asked Zo.
“No way! I just screamed because I-I was surprised. I’m not really worried.” He gave a weak laugh.
“Okay.” Claire was certain he was more concerned about losing some man points. “If you’re really okay.”
“Oh, dear … I do wish I had Elmer with me.”
Zo asked, “Your son?”
“No. He is my parrot. Nothing gets by him. Well, I guess I will go back to bed.”
“What’s your name?” Zo asked the still-fearful man.
“Gus Federbal.”
“Well, Gus, you see how fast we got here,” Zo said, nearly patting him on the head, but went for his shoulder instead. “All you have to do is yell again if you need us.”
Zo and Claire exited. Lenora and Beth seemed happy to be alone with him, waving the mother and daughter away while shutting his door.
“So, since we saw Frank here, who’s the man nosing around in the cemetery?” asked Claire to her mom.
“Who knows. I don’t care if some daredevil wants to see a family grave before he takes off to Kansas on his wee-hour road trip.”
Zo had taken to expounding her feelings ala Sam Spade, and this seemed like a right moment for it. “Everything screams that if I have any grit I’d go out there and confront the dark figure walking the cemetery floor. But, at three o’clock, in the gloomy shadows from a white moon, I’m choosing better wisdom, to leave the man to the loonies, goonies, and things that pierce your throat in the night. Oh, I’d go down in the morning to call the coroner all right, but tonight I am going to dream about the taste of bacon and orange juice for when morning comes conscious again.”
SIX
“Hello, all you beautiful people!” A man in tights frolicked to the center of the ballet studio like he was high on one too many energy drinks. Patrick. His blond hair flopped up and down as he moved. “Kellen and I are ready to teach you some killer dance moves. So who’s ready? Raise your hand and shout, ‘Woo!”’
“Woo!” the class of about fifteen people shouted.
“I can’t hear you!”
“Wooooo!”
“That’s better.”
Claire wore a little black dress, standing with her random dance partner named Jim. He had clammy hands and a mop of light brown hair. They both were waiting for directions.
Zo glanced around to see who was available, but everyone else had evidently brought dates. She had put her hair in a ponytail, curled the ends, and wore her favorite diamond earrings, accenting her red dress. All her efforts suddenly felt useless. Out of the side of her mouth, she said in Claire’s ear, “I am the only one without a partner!”
Claire looked at her mother sympathetically and whispered back, “Want mine? Please?”
As if Kellen could read Zo’s thoughts, he came right from a corner of the studio and said, “Hello, Zoey. Looks like we are partners.”
A group of butterflies took flight in Zo’s stomach. She was trying to ignore any thoughts about him being cute. ‘Cause he’s Patrick’s partner, she thought.
Kellen wore gray slacks and a white button-up shirt, tucked in above a shiny black belt. Zo noticed the new soft highlights throughout his dark brown hair right away. His hairstylist did a good job, she determined.
Before Zo knew it, Kellen dipped, twirled and glided with her across the shiny floors, and she felt as if she were floating more than dancing.
“I could do this every night, for the rest of my life,” Zo confessed, holding his strong shoulder tighter while catching whiffs of cologne.
“You’re a natural,” he said with a smile. Zo stared into a depth of blue eyes and then studied the rest of his handsome face, the bit of purposeful five o’clock shadow still taking residence on his carved jawline, his cheekbones looking perfect for a cute action hero to sport a scratch after blasting through a window and amazingly somersaulting to safety.
“Thank you. I’ve had some practice. It’s too bad tomorrow is Thursday. You only teach “Wednesdays?” she asked, as they turned in a couple quick circles, her ponytail flying.
“I do offer private lessons,” he said, twirling her back in.
If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that was a come on. “You do?”
“Yes, and tomorrow is open, if you’d like to come by the studio around one o’clock.”
“Definitely.” She knew this was strictly a business offer, but was rather bored around the castle.
A few minutes later, Kellen stiffened in his dance position a little too much, and his eyes darted to the front door, where Lacey was entering. “One moment,” he said, breaking away.
He quickly weaved through the other dancers. “You’re late,” Kellen was heard saying.
“It looks like everyone has a partner,” Lacey retorted.
“That’s not the point.” He pointed to her neck. “Cover those up. What are you thinking?” He shook his head.
A few dancers moved in front of Zo’s line of sight.
“She is so selfish sometimes,” he vented, while doing some simple dance steps, gripping Zo’s hand a little tighter. “She was supposed to be here early tonight to help out, but she’s always thinking about herself.”
“Does she work for you?”
“Only just now, to help pay off the rent she owes me. Her main job is down at the grocery store. She does home delivery orders.”
“That’s a good service.”
“The market is privately owned. It sells locally farmed products.” His face brightened at the thought. “Lots of organic food.” He twirled her out and back in.
“Oh, that does sound worthy. I’ve been looking into healthier foods.” Zo knew that wasn’t said to solely impress the man. She and Claire were into living a healthy way of life, normally. As if it mattered to him. She was in auto-drive, behaving as if she were with a friend anyway.
“If you’re checking out organic produce, you should try the corn. It’s very sweet. Very good. Actually … I have too much corn in my fridge. It will go bad soon. Would you like to stop by my place before lessons to try it? If you’re going to go organic, you simply can’t miss trying the corn. Patrick can also attest to its deliciousness.”
Zo cocked her head to the side, pretending to think it over a moment as they glided toward Claire and her energetic partner. “Sure. How much corn do you happen to have? My daughter is with me on this vacation. She may enjoy some as well. That is, if you have enough.”
“I do.” He perked up even more. “I have plenty.”
“That would be perfect!”
While Zo successfully set up a wannabe date with her fantasy dream man, Claire and her dance partner were trying to get the hang of their new dance steps. It wasn’t going too well.
Jim stepped on Claire’s foot for his third time, and once again turned red in embarrassment. “Sorry, are you okay?” he asked.
Claire looked down to her black high heels, her toes aching from the stomp. She was about to respond but was shushed. “Listen,” Jim said. “They’re talking about the ghost lady.”
They twirled in closer to the older couple who they’d heard talking about the news. “So frightening!” the woman said, her hair with a bit of a pink tint to it. “There haven’t been sightings in ages! And now people are saying they have seen her.”
The man responded, “I hope she just leaves us be. This town doesn’t need any more curses!”
“You got that right,” said another.
Leading them closer to the conversation, Claire said, “Oh, you don’t know that for sure, do you? I mean, there was a man who claimed to see her at the castle last night, but we thought he just had a bad dream or something.”
“Oh, he is lucky she didn’t harm him,” the lady said, not dancing anymore.
Other people stopped to listen.
“What do you mean?” someone asked.
“I mean, the woman came back as a vampire,” warned the pink-tinted-hair lady.
“Wait? A vampire ghost? I’ve never heard of that before,” Claire’s dance partner added.
“Yes, a vampire ghost. Haven’t you been reading the news?”
“N-no.”
“Well, there’s a newspaper stand right outside here. Check it out for yourself. Front page news!”
Claire excused herself, weaving through the dancers and bumping shoulders with her mom, who followed after her through the front door.
Jim was right behind them and felt for quarters in his slacks. Kellen soon joined them: “What’s wrong?”
Jim pointed to the newspaper visible through the stand’s glass door. “The ghost lady.” He tapped the window. “The story is about her. I don’t have any quarters.”
Kellen pulled out a wallet from his back pocket and took out three quarters stuffed down in a fold. It was just what they needed.
Jim thanked him, placed the coins in their slots, and pulled out a paper. “There she is! They actually have a photo. Look!” He smiled at Claire, a big smile with somewhat buck teeth Claire thought was surprisingly cute.
The picture was taken at night, so it was too dark to make out any features, but there was a woman with long black hair, wearing a long white dress, passing by gravestones. The headline read: Vampire Ghost Sighting Caught On Camera.
Jim read aloud. “Yesterday at 12:43 a.m., an anonymous witness who goes by the handle bats-n-cats emailed us this photo. They claim it is the ghost lady, known simply as Isobel. What is even more fantastical about the allegation is she’s said to not only be a ghost, but a vampire ghost.
“While roaming the graveyard last night, they say they saw her walking around the old church, the same church where some say she hanged herself.
“‘I saw her fangs,’ bats-n-cats wrote. ‘She threatened to drink my blood, but I got away just in time. Stay away from the graveyard, if you know what’s good for you!’”
Zo and Claire huddled around Jim with ohs and ahs. Kellen just kept his hands in his pockets, and said, “You don’t think it’s real, do you?”
Mother and daughter exchanged skeptical glances. Claire said, “Now, it’s hard for me to believe in ghosts in the first place, but a vampire ghost? You can’t believe this, can you?” She eyed everyone. “It’s a prank.”
“Nope, I believe it.” Jim stared at the picture a while longer, before folding it up. “Who wants to go to the cemetery?!” He challenged everyone with a big smile.
Claire smacked his arm. “What? Are you crazy? You say you believe the story of a vampire ghost, the anonymous witness says to stay away from the graveyard, and that’s precisely where you want to go? Besides, I couldn’t walk half a mile in these shoes. My feet are aching. Which, I might say, you added to the pain by stepping on them.”
Jim was dashed with the realization that they could not just up and go on a whim. “You can take your shoes off, leave them in the car. I’ll carry you on my back,” he offered with a new smile.
“Um … no.”
Zo gently grabbed her daughter’s upper arm and said, “Looks like we have another mystery on our hands.”
“Mother…” Claire pulled her hair out of its sleek French twist and ran her hands through it. “This is not our mystery. It’s not on our hands. In fact, I can solve it right here, right now. It’s a prank. The picture is a phony. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, how about we go back to the castle instead for a good night’s sleep?”
*
“I’m fine.” Claire put up a hand in protest. “You don’t need to carry me.” She stepped across the wet earth, the long blades of grass licking up her bare feet as she went.
Jim shrugged. “Should we go over to the castle a moment and get another pair of shoes? It’s just right there. We can see it from here.”
“No, let’s just get this out of our systems, then call it a day.”
“Okay!” Jim was eager.
It was colder than usual, and the fact that Zoey and Claire were wearing dresses didn’t help. Kellen had had no desire to come because he thought it was a ridiculous story. The three ended up sitting for a while on the church steps in the darkness, just looking around, waiting for the sudden appearance of … whatever.
“Aha!” they heard from around the corner, and they all shot up, on alert.
Zo and Claire linked arms as they walked beside Jim.
“Frank!” Zo said, upon seeing him beside the church’s wall.
“Oh, it’s you again,” he responded, holding a flashlight in one hand and something in the other.
“Whatcha got there?” asked Jim, Claire’s new and unintentional friend.
“Just some fake hair.”
“Fake hair?” Zo asked.
He dangled a nice chunk of black hair with his fingers. “There. You got a good look?”
“How do you know it’s fake?” Claire asked. Jim went to touch it, but Frank retracted.
�
�Look at the roots.” He held it out again and shone the light. “Not like regular hair. This was attached to a wig’s cap. You can even see some of the glue right there. Cheap Halloween wig, nothing more.”
Jim’s expression fell. “Ahhh man. So you’re saying the Isobel ghost vampire that we read about in the newspaper isn’t real? That someone’s been impersonating her? But we saw a newspaper report…”
“She’s fake.” Frank smiled in resolve. “The report in the newspaper told you that Isobel is a true apparition. Your lust for excitement agreed. See, folks, it’s just smoke and mirrors.”
Zo and Claire nodded.
“Still,” Frank added, “this is not a place to visit, because the lunatic is real.”
SEVEN
Claire knocked on Dracula’s chamber. It took a bit of time, but eventually he answered, creaking the door open just enough to show his dark eyes in darker shadows.
“Where is Lacey?” Zo asked.
“She’s not spending the night anymore. Her stay is finished.”
“She told us,” Claire said, “that she didn’t spend the night here because of the bats.”
“I know of no bats.”
Zo asked, “You didn’t hear them the other night?”
“No.” He stared into Zo’s eyes for a moment, before saying, “Care to come in?”
He opened the chamber’s door, and they saw a bed, a chaise lounge, and a large armoire with a gigantic mirror attached.
Zo stepped in and Claire followed. He locked the door behind them. “Have a seat.” He pointed to the lounge.
“You aren’t going to suck our blood, are you?” Zo sat, the two of them still in their dresses, Claire back in her heels.
“Only if you want me to, my sweet,” he offered.
“A mirror,” said Claire.
“Yes, my lovelies. I have a mirror.” He began undoing the knotted rope around his robe, showing some simple pajamas. “I need to tell you two something very important.”
Wind came whistling through a window and blew out one of the several candles lining the walls. He went over and relit it with another’s fiery wick. Claire placed a hand on her mother’s arm, feeling a bit apprehensive.
