by Glenn Rolfe
The time dragged. November’s records offered comfort. While her wounded heart absorbed every lyric of melancholy and pain alongside the ones of love and devotion, she fought back the urge to run to Rocky. Gabriel had spoken. And his threat was real. She’d expected him to barge in any moment to tell her that they were leaving. Yet, in the two days she’d spent mourning, yes, mourning the loss of whatever she and Rocky shared, she hadn’t seen or heard her brother once.
After they’d arrived home from the beach, he’d forced her to her room. On the other side of door, November heard him tell their mother to stay clear of the room, that November was to be left alone to consider the danger she’d placed the family in.
Not even Mother had come to her door.
A horrible thought twisted like smoke in her brain.
What if he’d done something to her? To Mother?
She rose from the bed, took the needle from the record, and placed the arm carefully into its cradle. The silence beyond her door was worrisome. For once in her life, she wished her powers were enhanced. After drinking blood, she could hear a pin hit the floor from two rooms away. She hadn’t even feasted on vermin in days. And her sun exposure made it worse. She needed to feed. She turned the knob and opened the door.
Poking her head into the hallway, she could see that Gabriel’s door was shut. Mother’s was, too.
Tentatively, she crept down the hall and found the living room void of life.
She scooted across the floor and out into the yard.
It was near dark. The moon sat above the treetops wide and brilliant, lighting up all below. Stepping through the grass, she wandered over to the small cemetery that sat between their cottage and the forest. She felt energy here. She’d always felt it walking amongst graves. She thought of Rocky. Tomorrow was his birthday. She should be there with him. She should celebrate with him and kiss him.
Something bolted through the grass and over a nearby grave.
November sprang and snatched the opossum by the tail. Ugly little critter, but it was a better feast than a rat. Without hesitation she bit into the thing’s back and sucked it dry.
Tossing its desiccated carcass to the edge of the graveyard, she felt the normal flood of ecstasy and warmth that accompanied fresh blood. The darkening world around her brightened. The soundtrack of nocturnal life filled her ears as she stood there with her eyes closed, breathing in the salty air of the sea. It truly was remarkable, this curse. It wasn’t all bad, but it was the other side that always coalesced with the good and soiled these feelings like rotten earth. Reminding her that she was a creature of ruin.
Shame, like a great wave from the blue, rose up and swallowed her where she stood, dropping her to her knees to wallow among the dead. She looked at her hands and at the blood that remained on them. All she ever wanted was to be human. To be normal and not this thing. She’d wanted them to move here, for Gabriel to give up his old ideas and his hatred for the beautiful people of this world, and to just realise that they could live freely among everyone else.
Even as she circled the track she’d tried so desperately to create in her mind, the blood on her hands refused to give in to her fantasy, dragging her clawing and screaming back to reality. Her reality. She imagined Rocky, foolishly but romantically sneaking out of his house, finding his way here and catching her with the animal in her mouth, feeding like a beast in the wild, the blood dripping down her chin, the monstrous look that adorned their faces while in the act of feeding. Their true face.
She pictured Rocky’s look of utter terror before Gabriel descended from out of nowhere and placed his hands upon the boy’s shoulders. His mouth jutting to Rocky’s throat.
November cried out in the night.
When her voice died, she was utterly and totally alone.
She didn’t want to think like a child, but only one thought repeated in her mind: It’s not fair. The childish mantra, the crux of every moment or incident perceived to be against them, in her time of sorrow and frustration, seemed impossible to push away.
She stood slowly, heartbroken, riddled with the awful truth – Gabriel was right. No matter what she wanted to believe, they were not like everyone else. They were something much worse.
Once she was back inside the house, she decided to check on Mother. She stopped at her mother’s door and placed her ear against it. She could hear her laboured breathing coming from within. The old woman’s condition seemed to be worsening. Whatever illness sat with her was unrelenting.
She opened the door and whispered, “Mother?”
She could make out the woman’s shape beneath the blankets on the bed. Unlike Gabriel, who decided to give in to the myths and legends of their kind, building his own coffin wherever they landed, November and Mother simply closed their curtains and chose to rest in comfortable beds.
She sat at her mother’s side and placed a hand to her shoulder.
Leaning to the old woman’s ear, she repeated, “Mother?”
She knew she wasn’t dead, but for the briefest of moments, as she sat there watching her unresponsiveness, the thought crawled into her belly.
Mother’s lips parted as her eyes fluttered open.
“Yes?” she said, her voice weak and raspy.
“Mother, are you all right?”
“I’m tired, dear.”
“It‘s time to rise. Will you join me in the other room? We could watch some TV.”
“Your brother’s not well.”
“Now you believe me?” November said.
“I’m so sorry,” Mother said. “I wasn’t ready to believe what I knew to be true.”
“Then we should leave here,” she said.
“I fear it won’t matter. I fear he’s too far gone.”
Her mother’s words stifled the air in the room.
November didn’t need validation of her fears. She wanted lies, beautiful, comforting lies, especially from her mother.
“That’s why we need to go home. Get Gabriel away from here and back to seclusion.”
Mother shook her head.
“Yes,” November cried. “We’ll just pack up our things and go. And if he doesn’t want to go, together we’ll make him.”
Tears slipped from her mother’s eyes.
November lay down beside her and held her tightly.
* * *
Blood coursed through him as he watched the boy’s window from above. His little sister’s lover – the thought filled him with rage. He’d seen this pathetic human copulating with her. To the weakling’s credit, he had heeded Gabriel’s warning. The boy had not sought out his sister since. His sister, who pined away in her room. The anger released him momentarily as a grin crossed his face. Whatever bond they had forged in the past weeks could not compete with his word, his law.
Oh, and the delicious thought of his own intentions made him shiver in anticipation. Severing the young couple’s relationship was only the beginning. He would make the boy pay. And it was not going to be quick. It was not going to be nice. There would be fear. There would be blood.
Hell was coming.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rocky woke up wincing. The pain in his hip used to bring him to tears, but over the last year and a half, he’d grown used to it and even learned to sleep with it throbbing away at his side. Some mornings, it was a little sharper than others.
He got out of bed and released the straps on the brace, taking in a deep luxurious breath with the contraption’s release. He placed it on his bed, stripped off the sweaty shirt, grabbed some shorts, underwear, and a clean t-shirt from his dresser, and headed for the shower.
Sixteen and ready to try his best not to let his birthday be a complete pile of garbage. He wondered if he’d see November. He allowed hope a shot. No sense spending the day beating himself up and being miserable. There was plenty of summer left f
or that.
Showered and ready to see what the day would bring, he found his first surprise on the kitchen table – a card from his parents featuring a dog driving a Trans Am, and a handwritten note from his mom with the new date and time of his driver’s test. The note also contained instructions to be home no later than five p.m. and had a twenty-dollar bill taped to it.
He pocketed the cash and stuck the exam notice on the fridge under a Bob’s Propane and Gas magnet.
Julie was in the living room putting on her shoes.
“Happy birthday,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m heading to work but I only have a four-hour shift, so if you want a little more practice, we can do it when I get home.”
“Yeah, that’d be cool.”
“I’m sorry about November.”
He picked up the other half of his sister’s Pop Tart from the coffee table.
“Thanks. Sorry about Derek. Have you heard anything?”
“No.”
“This is kind of a messed-up summer,” he said.
“We can only control our own actions, right?” she said. “Like, whatever is going on here, it’s out of our hands, but we can keep our chins up and our eyes open.”
Rocky nodded.
She got up and ruffled his hair. “Let’s just try to make sure you have a good birthday. I think we can do that, don’t you?”
He thought of November.
“As long as we have some pizza and I get some sweet presents, I think we can do that.”
“Right on, little brother,” she said. “I hope you get to see her today.”
“Me too.”
With that, his sister was out the door and he was left to his own devices.
He was on his bike and on his way to the square when he sensed somebody watching him. Glancing around at his surroundings, he saw cars, vans, trucks, and motorcycles galore piling into the local parking lots. Every year, more of these lots seemed to open, the owners making a daily killing packing tourists and out-of-towners as tightly as they could to turn the maximum profit.
As his eyes passed George’s Parking, one of the only lots with a bathroom/changing building and one of the longest-running spots along East Grand Avenue, a dark shape caught his attention.
“Hey,” a man shouted.
Rocky turned and came inches from running into two men walking straight at him. He yanked the handlebars and almost took out a woman and her baby.
“Jesus Christ, kid, get off the fucking sidewalk,” one of the men said. “Pay attention!”
“Sorry.”
The man grumbled as he and his friend continued in the opposite direction.
Rocky, now stopped and resting out of the way just off the sidewalk, scanned George’s lot for the dark shape he’d seen, or thought he’d seen.
Satisfied that he was being paranoid again, Rocky pedalled on, moving into the road so as not to get caught in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and piss off another asshole who might do more than yell at him.
He could smell the yummy goodness as he rounded the corner onto Old Orchard Street. He had a pocket full of money and could have anything he wanted. Normally, that would be easy. A slice of pizza and some fries from Lisa’s. But today the fried dough stand called out to him, a beacon in the middle of the storm of summer folk.
And maybe the chances of running into November there were greater.
As he hurried across the street, a little green Ford honked at him, but he snaked through and reached the entrance to Palace Playland. He found himself looking for her among the throng. His throat went dry when he spotted the dark man again. Dressed in black, and standing at least six feet tall, the creep stood out like a dead body at a birthday table. Was it possible? It couldn’t be. He’d just seen this man over on East Grand. He’d have to be faster than a speeding bullet to get over here already.
A set of five beefed-up, jock-looking douchebags wrestling in front of the mystery man blocked Rocky’s view of the shape. When they finally got out of the way, he was gone again.
Cold tendrils of fear slithered down his back.
The man looked like November’s brother, Gabriel. But why would he be out following him around? Rocky hadn’t seen November in days, no thanks to him. The size and build of the guy looked like Gabriel, but it could be anyone, plus it wasn’t even the same guy in both spots. That was impossible.
He thought of the shadow at his window last night.
Somebody’s watching me.
It wasn’t just the name of that song with Michael Jackson; it was an all-too-strong feeling closing in around him.
His focus was captured by the wall of Missing posters on the side of the front ticket building to his right.
What started with just Vanessa Winslow was now a bulletin board’s worth of photos from one of those thriller movies where the detectives are trying to catch the movie of the week’s version of the Zodiac. Rocky stared in shock at the flyers, which easily numbered in the double-digits. John Chaplin, Jonas Bazinet, Sheena Wickman, Andy Rice, and another kid from school. He was a sixth grader named Ryan Soucy. The kid was well-liked. Rocky had seen him and his friends in the arcade hundreds of times over the last two years. He looked so small in the photo. He had a head of short, curly black hair. An aw shucks smile that looked too big for his face rested under smiling brown eyes.
Rocky searched his surroundings for the man in black. What if it wasn’t Gabriel, but the creep? The kidnapper wandering around in broad daylight and looking for his next victim?
Instead of grabbing his dough and heading straight home like he wanted to, Rocky found himself skipping his lunch and actively seeking out the man he’d seen watching him.
What if he could spot him, follow him, maybe find out where he was staying or what he might be driving? Something he could give to the cops.
He was coasting through the crowds, keeping an eye out for the black shape, when he spotted her, a look of pure sadness upon her perfect face. November. A picture that did not belong in this or any other world. He wanted desperately to call out to her, but did she even want to see him? What if she looked and then turned away and left? Or if she did talk to him but only to tell him to get lost? He wasn’t sure which would be worse.
“Rocky?” she said, her voice loud, clear, and lilting like an angel in his ear.
She scanned the crowd around her, looking for Gabriel no doubt, and then hurried over.
She rushed up to him so close that their lips almost met. He opened his mouth to kiss her, but she placed a hand to his lips and bowed her head.
“We can’t,” she said.
His heart dipped in the flood of emotions.
She had a small brown paper bag with a handle in her other hand and brought it up to him.
“I know it’s your birthday. I was hoping to see you so I could give you your present.”
He reached for it before seeing the dark shape behind her duck behind one of the carnival game booths.
“What is it?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew.”
“I’d better get going,” she said. “Here, take it. I want you to promise me something.”
He took the bag. “Anything.”
“Promise you’ll give your gift a fair chance.”
“A fair chance?”
“Just promise,” she said.
“Okay. I promise.”
“And please promise…” she said. She bit her lip and averted her wet eyes.
“What? November, please,” he said, reaching out.
She backed away. “Promise you’ll always remember me.”
“I love you,” he said, blurting it out without thinking.
“I love you, too, Rocky. Goodbye.”
Tears fell
from her eyes as she turned away and hurried into the crowd.
“November!” he shouted. But she was gone.
His own tears dropped to the brown bag in his hands. He wiped them away suddenly, all too aware that he was crying in public. He sniffled and opened the bag. He pulled out a brand-new cassette copy of Van Halen’s 5150 album.
He placed it back in the bag and headed home. He didn’t stop, he didn’t look around at anyone that might see him crying (and he did cry), and he didn’t keep a lookout for the man in black.
But he should have.
Chapter Twenty-Four
November crashed through the front door and made a beeline for her brother’s room. Head of the family or not, he couldn’t do this to her. It wasn’t fair. Childish mantra be damned. It was the truth. It wasn’t his choice and it wasn’t for him to decide how she should live her life. She wasn’t a baby and she wasn’t careless. Knowing that she’d just broken Rocky’s heart was more than she could bear.
She burst through Gabriel’s bedroom door and gazed at his coffin.
God, he was such a dramatic asshole.
Whatever he was going through, he needed to leave her out of it.
She reached for the lid and threw it open.
It was empty.
Oh god.
She stepped back, her hands steepled over her nose and mouth. The sun was high in the sky and far too many hours away from giving up to the night. Her brother, who always preferred to stay at full strength , was never out at this time of day.
Rocky.
Rocky was in danger and she’d brought the devil right to him. November found her mother covered in sweat, lying tucked away in her darkened room. Her breathing was raspy, and her complexion was taking on a grey tint. November closed the door without disturbing her.
Was it possible Gabriel was manipulating their mother’s health? She didn’t want to believe him to be that sinister, but at some point, she had to face the fact that he was changed. Denial wasn’t going to do any of them any good.
She wished she had some place to turn to, someone to speak with who would be familiar with their condition and the varying behaviours that could occur depending on their blood intake. It wasn’t like there were magazine articles on the subject. If there was a book somewhere, she didn’t know about it or have access to it. Father never spoke about the negatives that were possible from within, and Mother seemed content sitting in denial.
