Interview With a Jewish Vampire (17 page)

“
C’mon, Sheldon, how about we hit some clubs?” I suggested.

“
Clubs? What kind of clubs? I’ve never been to a club.”

“
You certainly led a sheltered life before you met me. Didn’t you ever get wild and crazy, dance all night, feel like you were one with the music?”

“
Rhoda, the last time I danced it was the waltz. I have never felt at one with Strauss, but I doubt that’s what you’re talking about anyway.”

I led Sheldon to the News Café on the South Beach strip. The strip was almost as light as day since the art deco hotels were brightly lit with neon signs. The restaurants all had outdoor café and scantily glad girls enticing passersby to come in, but I doubt they would have appreciated just one for dinner. This café seemed to tolerate people watching without ordering. I decided to just have coffee so Sheldon wouldn’t feel deprived.

The outfits on the girls were even skimpier than the last time I’d visited, if that was possible. Latina models probably. Heels were so high that I would have fallen over in them instantly. The girls wore low-cut tops with their cleavage hanging out and shimmery tights in day-glo colors that started below their belly buttons. They flaunted their sexuality with an abandon unknown to uptight New York girls like me, who mostly wore black from head to toe.

“
So what do you think, Sheldon? Have you ever seen girls like these?”

“
I think I should look the other way. I’m a nice Jewish boy remember?” he gave me a shy smile with a hint of mock innocence.

He wasn’t looking the other way. He was like any other boy; Jewish or not, he liked to ogle beautiful women.

Just then a tall blonde masculine-looking woman with strong features, a huge head of hair that had to be a wig, heavy makeup, a purple mini-dress and sinewy muscled arms and legs, plunked herself down next to us. I realized quickly that she was a drag queen, but wasn’t sure Sheldon would know. In his day even women weren’t supposed to dress like that, much less men.

“
Hi there.” She smiled broadly, exposing a very expensive set of capped teeth. I could always spot caps since I had so many of them in my own mouth. “I’m Hedwig. Can I join you? “

I wondered what she was selling, or what hustle she was running. South Beach is like Times Square that way. Strangers who befriend you usually have a hidden agenda.

“
Would you two be interested in going to the Vampire Ball at Saints and Sinners with me?” Hedwig asked. “Here’s a flyer.”

“
What?” Sheldon said. “Why us?”

“
You remind me of a vampire lover I had once,” she said flashing her choppers at Sheldon. “Tall, dark, handsome, cold as ice with pasty skin. I begged him to change me but he ran off with one of my girlfriends instead. You men are all the same, dead or alive.” Hedwig tossed her long blond curls and smiled. “He sucked some of my blood, though. It was divine.”

“
Sheldon, why didn’t you ever do that to me?”

“
I’m not one of those fuck and suck vampires.” He sounded horrified. “I’ve been clean and sober for fifty years now. One drop of human blood and I could go off the wagon and turn into a killing machine.”

I wondered how he was going to suck Mom’s blood without turning into a killing machine. I’d ask him that later when Hedwig wasn’t around.

“
Come with me.” She looked at us seductively and raised her heavily penciled eyebrows. “Show me some fang, honey.”

Sheldon obliged, brandishing his incisors with a theatrical hiss.

“
I am so psyched!” Hedwig shrieked. “I’m bringing a real vampire to the Vampire Ball. I will be the belle. The drinks are on me. That’s if you drink, Mr. Sheldon.”

“
I never drink wine and I never smoke shit,” Sheldon drawled, imitating George Hamilton in Love at First Bite. I was surprised he watched vampire movies, but then again, why wouldn’t he?

“
Here’s the address, Mr. Sexy,” Hedwig giggled. “I’ll meet you two there.”

She gave us a black postcard with a big Vampire Ball in elaborate white calligraphy, and an address on Washington Avenue, not far from where we’d parked.

“
Do you want to go, Shel?”

“
Why not, honey, we’re on vacation. I’ve always wanted to go to a Vampire Ball. The vampires I know are not exactly a fun bunch. They’re more likely to sit around and discuss the fine points of Talmud.”

Saints and Sinners was a huge, two-story establishment with seven bars. In a town with hundreds of clubs all vying for tourist dollars, this one advertised that you could go bar hopping without ever leaving the premises. The Vampire Ball was in a room so dark I stumbled on my way in and had to grab Sheldon so I wouldn’t fall down. Hedwig saw us, though. As soon as we walked in she gave another piercing shriek and ran towards us so fast I was afraid she’d knock me over. She managed to stop abruptly on her six-inch platform heels, grabbed both of our hands and started pulling.

“
Sheldon, Rhoda, please come and meet my friends.”

Hedwig’s friends were, like her, huge drag queens in a variety of flamboyant outfits, from skintight pants to cocktail dresses. They all wore platform heels, heavy makeup and wigs. I liked them all immediately since they fussed over Sheldon and me like mother hens.

“
You two are so adorable,” one of Hedwig’s girlfriends gushed. “I want to dance with Sheldon, can I borrow him? It’s not every day you get to dance with a real vampire at the Vampire Ball.”

“
Sure.” I waved Sheldon towards her, as a tan, shirtless, extremely handsome man in a mask and cape whom Hedwig introduced as Anibal grabbed me and dragged me towards the dance floor.

“
Your boyfriend is a real vampire?” Anibal whispered in a Latin accent. “I know a few vampires, but they real dangerous. I wouldn’t invite them to a ball.”

“
Why not?”

“
Some of the dancers might not make it home,” Anibal leered at me. “They like blood and they like it hot.”

“
Sheldon’s not like that. He doesn’t drink human blood.”

“
A vampire who don’t drink human blood? I think he’s funnin’ you girlie, girl. You gonna wake up dead one of these days.”

“
You’ve got it all wrong.” I pulled away from him and walked back to the tiny round table Hedwig had gotten for us on the side of the dance floor. The laser lights were making me dizzy and the loud hip-hop music was giving me a headache. I searched the floor for Sheldon and Hedwig but all I saw were extravagantly dressed drag queens in a variety of Elvira outfits and half-naked caped men who I assumed were gay. On the stage a person of non-specific gender was stripping seductively, showing phony fangs as he took it all off. His white skin looked powdered, not like Sheldon’s marble-smooth limbs. So where was Sheldon? I was getting nervous as I looked around. I wended my way to the ladies room and there he was near the bar, doing some kind of bump and grind with Hedwig and a gay boy dressed as a girl vampire. They were both having a lot of fun slithering up and down his body and he seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“
Sheldon, enough already, let’s get out of here.”

“
But Rhoda, I can’t disappoint these ladies.”

I grabbed his hand and started dragging him across the dance floor. He looked back at the girls and waved goodbye regretfully. Hedwig said, “OK, OK, I understand you want your man back. But he is the cutest little vampire I’ve ever met. If you two ever need anything, or just want to get in touch, here’s my card.”

She shoved a pink business card at me, which had silver stars all over it, and a phone number. That’s all, no name, no email address, just a phone number. Very classy. I wondered if she was an escort or provided sexual services as well as dope. Sheldon looked at the card and raised his eyebrows.

“
You know the ultra-Orthodox guys go for girls like that,” he told me as soon as we left. “They’re always looking for kinky sex. Or any sex. That’s what happens when you can’t have sex with your wife for two weeks every month until she goes to the mikvah, and she’s always pregnant. It’s strange because in Judaism you’re supposed to enjoy sex, but somehow black hats never pay attention to that particular part of the Talmud.”

I was determined enjoy a little kinky sex myself that night, preferably on the beach, so after we left we walked on Collins Avenue until we spotted a deserted stretch of sand. The beach in Miami is really flat and wide so there’s a long distance from the street to the water, providing a bit of distance from the bright lights and people. We ducked under one of those blue cabanas that provide shelter from the sun. I supposed we weren’t the first ones who’d used them for shelter from prying eyes, but they seemed to be made for that. I grabbed Sheldon and dragged him down onto the sand.

“
Rhoda, are you sure this is a good idea? Sand might get into some sensitive areas.”

“
Stop being a wuss. We’ll cope with it,” I told him as I unzipped his jeans. I was wearing a skirt and sandals, perfect lovemaking-on-the-beach-garb. Luckily the beach in Miami is hard packed so the sand more or less stayed put. His skin felt cool in the heat of night. He cooled me off and heated me up as we moved against each other. The sensation was extra exciting. After we’d both collapsed on the sand, me panting, him looking like he would pant if he could, Sheldon suggested a midnight swim.

“
We don’t have our suits.”

“
Who needs suits?” Sheldon picked me up and ran to the water. He was so fast that if anyone was watching they wouldn’t have seen much. Once we were in the ocean we started making love again. I had never had sex under water, and reveled in the feeling of weightlessness while I wrapped my legs around him. Both Sheldon and the warm Florida ocean caressed me softly. He could have lifted me up without the help of the water, but the water made me feel unselfconscious, like a sexy mermaid. It turned out Sheldon could not only fly a bit, but he could also skim the water like a dolphin. As I held onto his back he gamboled in the waves, going under and over and zipping out far from shore, then coming back. He carried me back to the little cabana quickly, but no one was around anyway. I was so giddy and exhilarated that I could barely find my clothes so Sheldon dressed me. It was completely thrilling—and exhausting. I took a nap on the beach while he relaxed.

“
Maybe we should move to Florida,” I said as we drove back to Century Village.

“
Not a chance. Too sunny. Give me cold, dark, gloomy weather anytime. New York reminds me of Transylvania. It’s home to me.”

“
Guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want to move away from Charlene anyway. And my clients are there. I do like to visit editors now and then. By the way I have about three deadlines that I’ve totally ignored. I better get on the laptop when I get back to Mom’s.”

“
You can work tomorrow while I sleep in the storage room.”

“
I hate to send you back there again.”

“
It is pretty dreary. Maybe your Mom would let me put the coffin in the spare room where you’re sleeping.”

“
We can ask her. After all she’ll be sleeping in one herself soon.”

Walking into the funeral home from the Florida sun was like walking into a dark, chilled coffin with fluorescent lighting. Maybe that was the point. Windowless, carpeted, oppressively quiet, with some new agey music playing so low you could hardly hear it. Fleisher’s Funeral Home, despite its Jewish identity, looked like it could have buried any religion. There was a small Star of David on the wall, but that was it. Everything was beige, except for maroon drapery over what may have been windows but it was hard to tell, not a crack of light came in. The funeral director fit the part as well. Middle aged, portly, with a five o’clock shadow, he wore a conservative gray suit, white shirt and tie that squeezed his fleshy neck. He was sweating despite the chilled air. He gave me an anemic smile that I knew was supposed to project sympathy, but just made me uneasy.

He held out his hand. “I’m Mr. Fleisher, your grief counselor. Please come into my office. How can I help you?” he said unctuously, seating me in front of his huge mahogany desk after he finished giving my hand a quick shake.

“
Well, I need to make plans for my mother’s burial. She’s eighty, in poor health, and I don’t want to wait until after….after….you know what.”

“
Of course, Ms. Ginsburg, I understand,” he said with the kind of phony sympathy all salespeople use. It got on my nerves. “We have a number of pre-planning options. I’m sure we can find one that’s suitable.”

Sheldon and I had figured out the details of the change the night before.

“
I think a newly made vampire needs to be buried a coffin in order to rise,” he said. “After that maybe they can sleep without them, but they do need to be buried first.”

“
That is going to make it very complicated. How can we smuggle coffins out of Century Village after you finish the change on the girls? There are too many busybodies around here waiting to pounce on the good apartments as soon as someone dies. Mom’s is between the pool and the lagoon; someone will be calling the real estate agent on the least suspicion. Why don’t you call the Talamasca or someone from B.A. on that one? Maybe there’s another way.”

“
You’re right, I may be living in the past century, vampire-wise. There may have been technological improvements in the change. After all I haven’t done it since, well, the last century.”