Interview With a Jewish Vampire (14 page)

“
The Century Village Museum of the Dead. They have artifacts of death from various eras. It’s soothing to the residents who are, you know, on their way there.”

I just made that up off the top of my head but it seemed to satisfy the young security guard, who had probably never been to a museum, much less contemplated dying. Before allowing it to go through, he felt around the inside looking for contraband. It was a relief to finally see it traveling down the conveyor belt to the baggage compartment.

We boarded the plane and sat by the window. The man at the end of our row took one look at Sheldon and found another seat. He had that effect on some people. The flight attendant came by and asked if we wanted anything to drink. Sheldon said, “Type A, please,” and showed his fangs. He loved to freak people out, especially pretty young women, which really annoyed me.

“
Sorry.” I made a circular motion next to my head. “He’s delusional. Thinks he’s a vampire. Humor him. Bring him a glass of red wine. I’ll have a Diet Coke please. Thanks.”

Sheldon and I had worked out the logistics of the trip, which were pretty complicated. I didn’t want to scare Mom by arriving with a coffin, so I decided to stash it—and Sheldon himself during the day—in her storage space, which was a locked cage in a dark room in the back of the building, perfect for a vampire to hide out in during the day. Luckily I already had the key so I didn’t have to tell her about the coffin. All that was in there was moldy luggage. I’d introduce Sheldon to Mom when we arrived and he’d be sleeping in his coffin by the time she got up. I’d talk to her about my plan during the day, while he was sleeping, and then he’d join me at night and help me convince her. I’d already told her he was a vampire but she still didn’t believe me. I was very nervous about this whole plan. Once we were on the plane I started having second thoughts.

“
Sheldon, do you really think this will work?”

“
Rhoda, it was your idea, not mine. I think I can do the change. I changed my brother, but he was young, and near death from pneumonia. But Zelda was changed and she’s probably your mom’s age so it’s possible.”

“
How does it work? Will it be scary for her?”

“
Have you read Dracula? It’s like that. I suck a little of her blood every night until she grows weaker and weaker and finally dies. Then she rises.”

“
Yuck.”

“
It’s really pretty painless, unlike in some vampire novels. Nothing like
Twilight
. No pain. Just intense sleepiness.”

The aspect that really grossed me out didn’t have anything to do with blood. “How about the…sexual thing. I mean when Dracula changed what’s her name, Mina, didn’t she really get her jollies from it. Or he did. She swooned and all that. He seemed to lust for her too.”

“
That was just Victorian repression—they were afraid of sex so Stoker turned Dracula into some kind of sexual metaphor. He was a nasty vampire, that’s all. He liked sucking the blood of beautiful women because he was a sadistic monster. Sadists love killing beautiful things. OK, maybe Mina and Lucy turned him on, but he loved killing Jews too and I didn’t turn him on. Don’t get me started. That piece of drek. Believe me your mother isn’t going to turn me on or vice versa. It will be very hard for me to change her.”

“
Why?”

“
Because she’s still completely living, not like my brother, who was dying. I have to be very careful to suck just the right amount of blood for the right number of nights. It depends on the individual. If she dies too soon I won’t have a chance to give her my blood, which is vital to the process. If a vampire just drains a human they die—it’s the slow process of draining over time that allows the change to take place—at least I think it is. And I don’t know exactly how much blood to give her. I’ve never done it before to a healthy person. I think I’m going to call the Talamasca. They know everything.”

“
I read about them somewhere.”

“
They’re a secret society, or they were, until Anne Rice outed them. They’re scholars of the paranormal with motherhouses all over the world. They do workshops at Omega and Esalen and even the Ghost Hunters on TV consult them. I shocked the socks off them when I told them there were Jewish vampires. They thought Lilith was the only one. But she just got a bad rap from patriarchal idiots. But that’s a long story.”

“
OK, I’ll leave the details to you.”

When we landed at Fort Lauderdale Airport we had to locate Sheldon’s coffin on the baggage carousel. It was undoubtedly the strangest piece of luggage any of the staring passengers had ever seen. He and I got it onto one of those luggage carts and into our hired limo. It wasn’t too heavy since Sheldon wasn’t in it. We’d hired our own limo for the trip to Century Village since sitting in a group limo with a coffin in the middle of the floor was not something either of us wanted to face.

When we drove into Century I was wondering what Sheldon thought of it. When I first saw it, I’d thought it looked like man’s first settlement on the moon—or a prison--stark and barren, with rows of ugly concrete buildings and very little foliage. Now, fifteen years later, there were trees and flowers everywhere. Florida’s tropical weather made it hard for any place to look barren for long.

We got to Mom’s section, Grantham A--the buildings all had pretentious waspy names. There should have been a Grand Concourse or an Avenue A to remind the residents of home. We stashed the coffin in Mom’s storage space before going to her apartment.

Mom was waiting up for us, just the way she always waited up for me. She opened the door with a big grin on her face, excited to meet Sheldon. It surprised me how happy I felt to see her, but then I always felt happy when I saw her—like I was a little girl again who missed her mommy.

“
Rhoda has told me so much about you, Sheldon. She didn’t exaggerate about you. You do look like Jeff Goldblum.”

Sheldon smiled shyly, obviously embarrassed
. He probably he would have blushed if he could. “Can I get you something to eat? How about a nice bagel and coffee? That was a long flight.”

“
Mom, I told you Sheldon doesn’t eat.”

“
That’s ridiculous, Rhoda, everybody eats.”

I took a deep breath and figured I’d better get this over with as quickly as possible. It wasn’t going to be easy.

“
Mom, I told you about Sheldon, that he’s a vampire. Don’t you remember? Could you please take a close look at him? Sheldon, show her.”

“
I don’t really know how to make this easy for you, Mrs. Ginsburg. I know you were raised in a time when Jews believed in evil spirits,
dybbuks
, and the like.”

“
Oh please, call me Fanny. And my grandmother believed in evil spirits. My mother was a socialist and so am I. I’m an atheist, always have been. I don’t believe in God, angels, devils,
dybbuks
, or any other supernatural being. Karl Marx didn’t so why should I?”

Sheldon obediently took a mirror out of his pocket and breathed on it—no fog. In fact, no reflection. He took Mom’s hand and put it on his chest—no heartbeat. He smiled and showed her his fangs. The real shocker was when he grabbed a knife and sliced it across the palm of his hand, making a deep cut which healed while we watched. Then he rose off the floor about six inches and glided around the room.

Mom grabbed her chest, gasped and fell on the couch. I was afraid she was going to have a heart attack then and there and it would be too late to save her.

“
I’m so sorry, Mrs. Ginsburg. I didn’t want to shock you.”

“
Please call me Fanny,” she said, breathing heavily and struggling to sit up. I ran over and sat down next to her, put my arm around her and helped her stay upright on the couch.

“
Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” she said, pushing me away. Mom didn’t want anyone helping her, she was still in denial about her health. She was also very sensitive about people’s feelings. She didn’t want Sheldon to think her collapse was his fault.

“
I’m used to being polite to my elders. But I guess I’m actually your elder so I’ll call you Fanny.” Sheldon laughed in a comforting way, ignoring her distress. He realized that it would make her feel worse if he made a fuss about it. He was trying his best to be charming. Which wasn’t hard for him.

We sat down on either side of her on the couch so she wouldn’t feel that she had to get up.

“
Rhoda, what is this creature?”

“
I told you, Mom, he’s a vampire. He’s also a diamond cutter—for a living that is.”

“
You couldn’t have found a vampire doctor?” She tried to make a weak joke. “I guess if you love him I can deal with him not being human. At least he’s Jewish,” she laughed. At that point I knew she was OK, she’d cope.

“
He’s also not a Republican,” I added. Mom always said she’d rather I marry anyone but a Republican. She hated Republicans more than she hated…well, anyone, except maybe Orthodox Jews. She hated them too. Lucky Sheldon wasn’t really a Hasidic rabbi, he was just using that identity for a cover. She wanted me to find a nice Jewish guy—but not too Jewish—any more religious than Reform would be too religious. I felt the same way. The way the ultra-Orthodox treated women as baby-making machines creeped me out.

“
Vampires always vote democratic,” I reassured her, not telling her that Sheldon couldn’t vote. “In fact Sheldon was in the Russian Revolution. He knew Trotsky really well.” My mom was a Trotskyite in her youth, but I’d made that up. For all I knew Sheldon was a buddy of the Czar, or more likely Rasputin.

“
Leon Trotsky and I were very close at one time,” Sheldon chimed in. “I was with him in Mexico before he was murdered. Unfortunately, I was asleep when the Stalinists came for him or I could have saved him. Such a shame. What a brilliant man.”

I could tell he was winning Mom over. Sheldon either was really in Mexico at the time, or he knew his history. I’d have to ask him later.

“
How old are you, young man?” Mom asked.

“
Well, older than you, but not that old. I come from the time of Dracula. Late Nineteenth Century.”

“
Maybe you knew my grandmother. She came from Vitebsk, a
shtetl
in Russia. The same
shtetl
as Chagall actually. You know our family is probably related to Chagall—everyone in Vitebsk was related to everyone else. That’s probably why my Rhoda has such an artistic streak. Did you ever see her paintings? She’s so talented.”

My mom worshipped art. She always bragged about her family’s tenuous connection to Chagall. “That’s hers.” She pointed to a pastel still life on her wall that I’d done a long time ago when I studied at the Art Students League.

“
Rhoda, how could you hide your talent from me? Why haven’t I seen your paintings?” Sheldon chided.

“
They don’t look that great at night, so you probably didn’t notice them. I have to get better lighting.”

He turned back to Mom. “Fanny, I’m not exactly Russian though I spent some time there. I’m Romanian. I’ve never been to Vitebsk, but I just adore Chagall.”

“
Let me show you my Chagall prints,” she said, trying to get up but failing. Finally she held out her hand and allowed Sheldon to help her to her feet. Once she was off the couch she stopped to catch her breath before leading him into the living room. Now I knew we were home free. He might be a vampire, but he was also a cultured vampire with the right politics. A Trotskyite who loved Chagall couldn’t be all bad.

We sat down again, chatted some more, and then Sheldon kissed her hand in an old-world gesture, said goodnight, and explained that he was planning to stay at a hotel. He wouldn’t want to put Mom out.

“
I know you only have one extra bedroom and wouldn’t want Rhoda sleeping with a boyfriend she wasn’t married to,” Sheldon announced as his reason for leaving.

“
Do you think I’m that old fashioned?” Mom sounded slightly miffed “You’re welcome to stay here with Rhoda anytime. The bed pulls out into a double.”

“
Maybe tomorrow,” he said. “But I’ve booked a room for tonight.”

“
I’ll drive you there,” I offered. “Mom, lend me your car keys.” I didn’t want to explain the entire truth to her yet—that Sheldon didn’t sleep at night, slept in a coffin during the day and sucked the blood of small animals to survive. I wanted to break the more shocking news to her slowly.

When we left I asked Sheldon, “Are you hungry? There are still a few hours till daylight. There’s always a pile of garbage outside the Winn Dixie. Maybe you could find a few rats.”

“
I could use a bite, Rhoda.” So I drove him to the supermarket and parked in the front while he hunted rats in the back, near the Dumpsters. I really couldn’t face the rat hunt. I’d have to come up with other, less disgusting food sources for him while we were here. Alligators? Nah, too cold blooded. There were all kinds of animals in the Everglades including deer. We’d have to take a drive another night so he could go hunting. I took a snooze in the car until he was ready to leave.

“
Full now?” I asked.

“
Fine,” he said without elaborating, not wanting to gross me out.

I showed him where his coffin was and gave him a key to the storage room. I threw a tarp over it to divert suspicion. I didn’t want anyone to think Mom was hiding bodies. Sheldon was planning to sit quietly by the pool and listen to a book till daybreak. I’d warned him not to wander around because he’d attract unwanted attention. I’d given him an iPod with the audiobook of one of my favorite novels, Cynthia Ozick’s The Puttermesser Papers, so he could listen to it in his coffin if he got insomnia. It was about a brilliant Jewish lawyer and scholar, Ruth Puttermesser, who manages to get elected mayor with the help of her golem, whom she’d created inadvertently out of the soil from her flowerpots. Like most golems, Ruth’s eventually runs amok and destroys her life. This was a cautionary tale for Sheldon since Goldie seemed as if she might be on the same path. I knew a rival when I saw one. Then I went back to Mom’s apartment, crawled into the sofa bed in her spare room and fell asleep instantly. She was already sleeping so I didn’t have to make conversation. It had been one of the more exhausting days of my life.