Interview With a Jewish Vampire (9 page)

I am surrounded by Divine Light

“
Now use your imagination to see yourself standing in a shower of brilliant white Light. If that doesn’t work run across the street and into the precinct, shouting, vampires are after me. At the worst you’ll get locked up in Bellevue.”

“
It’s freezing,” I said, all of a sudden noticing that we were standing on the street shivering. “We can’t just loiter in the street. Women do not loiter in this neighborhood. We’ll probably get arrested for prostitution.”

“
Three nice Jewish girls like us?” Charlene said.

“
You’re not Jewish,” I reminded her.

“
Two and a half nice Jewish girls. I’m Jewish by association. It’s catching.”

Karen laughed. “I’m not Jewish either. I’m a nice Italian girl, Catholic of course, but since I’m a New Yorker I’m Jewish. You remember what Lennie Bruce said, ‘If you live in New York, you’re Jewish, and if you live in the Midwest you’re a wasp—well I’m a native New Yorker.”

“
Let’s hail a cab to sit in,” Charlene suggested, like the half-Jewish princess that she was. “We’ll wait for Sheldon to come out of that building. It’s almost sundown. He probably goes out at night, wouldn’t ya think?” Charlene asked me. “You told me he works at night.”

“
It’s forty cents a minute. We could be here for hours,” I complained.

“
I’ll spring for the fare,” Karen offered. “I just got a job on Wall Street. Hedge fund manager.”

“
What kind of job is that for a witch?” I asked.

“
The best kind. I’ll be a rich witch.”

“
OK, if he doesn’t come out in an hour we’ll go in and look for him.”

“
You’ll go in,” Charlene said.

The cabdriver’s ID said Khalid Mohammed. He had a menacing look and a prayer rug next to him in the passenger seat. If I’d been sitting next to him on a plane I would have checked out his midsection for explosives. I was nervous. What would he think of three women sitting in the back of a cab in Crown Heights casing a building with blackout curtains?

When I told him we just wanted to sit here he took it as an invitation to interrogate us. Unfortunately he spoke English—with a thick Brooklyn accent.

“
So, whadda three nice girls like you doin’ in a dump like this?” he asked. “You should be clubbin’ in Brooklyn Heights. How’s about I take you to this high rollin’ club I know about. Lotsa older guys there. Gamblin’ in the back room. You might meet a guy with moolah.”

Was this guy with the Muslim mob or with a road company of
Guys and Dolls
?

“
Where do you come from?” I asked him. “You’re sure not from the Middle East.”

“
I’m from Joisey.”

“
A Muslim from Joisey?”

“
I’m Italian.”

“
A Muslim Italian from Joisey?” I was beginning to feel like we were doing a Marx Brothers routine.

“
Doncha believe in diversity? Whas wrong with a Muslim Italian from Joisey?”

Charlene elbowed me in the side and whispered, “He’s probably nuts. Just humor him.”

“
Whaddya doin’ here anyways?” He kept talking. “Just black hats around here, no good lookin’ dames.”

“
My boyfriend is a black hat.” I leaned forward conspiratorially. “He’s hiding me from his family.

“
Whaddya doin’ with a married man, a black hat to boot? Them guys is good for nothing,’ I never got a decent tip from one yet.”

“
My boyfriend’s rich. And he’s single.” I leaned back confidently as if I knew what I was talking about. “And my girlfriends wanted to meet him.” It was a lame story but he didn’t look bright enough to figure that out.

After sitting in the cab for an hour with Khalid asking us a long string of questions, including how old we were, where we worked, how much we made, who had a boyfriend, why we weren’t married, why we got divorced (me and Charlene, Karen had never been married), why we didn’t have kids…why, why, why, I finally told him that he should check out our Facebook pages if he wanted more information.
We promised to confirm him if he friended us. I, for one, was lying. No way was that guy ever going to be my friend on Facebook or anywhere else, but the suggestion seemed to mollify him. Then he went into a long rant about how he hated being a taxi driver, how his back hurt constantly, how the Bloomberg administration was trying to drive honest cabbies out of business, how it was impossible to make any money after he leased the cab, yadda, yadda, yadda. By that time he’d gotten on my last nerve and I couldn’t have cared less if he wound up homeless.

“
Someone is coming out of the building,” Charlene whispered. “A tall guy. Black hat.”

“
Omigod it’s him!” I shrieked. I couldn’t believe it. I ran out of the cab and down the street. He moved really fast and I was out of breath by the time I caught up with him on the next block. I was yelling his name but he kept on walking.

“
Sheldon, why are you running away from me?” I gasped.

“
Rhoda, you’re blowing my cover,” he said turning around while he kept walking. I noticed he had a long beard. He must have let it grow back since the last time I saw him. “I’m a Hasid,” he growled. “I’m not supposed to be seen talking to a woman I’m not married to on the street.”

“
Then get into the goddamned cab.” I growled back.

Charlene and Karen had told the cabbie to follow me. That was a smart move. I opened the passenger door for him and pushed him into the front seat. I got into the back with the girls and gave Khalid my address in Manhattan.

“
Who is this pasty-faced weirdo?” Khalid turned around and asked me. “He doesn’t look like a Hasid to me. He looks like he’s got AIDS. I’m not gonna sit next to him. Maybe he’s catching.”

“
Ok, stop the goddamned cab. Charlene, go sit in the front, Sheldon come back and sit next to me.”

“
Can we please get out of Crown Heights first,” Sheldon begged. “I’m in enough trouble already.”

“
If you get out of here quick you can have the tall girl with the curly hair in the front,” I told Khalid. “How’s that?”

“
You’re gonna owe me for this,” Charlene whispered to me. “That cabbie creeps me out.”

“
Name your price.”

“
Permission to smoke in your apartment, in perpetuity.”

“
Aaaargh. OK.” I would have promised anything. I’d take it back later.

Karen poked me and whispered, “Sheldon’s really cute. Pasty face and all. He looks just like Sasha Baron Cohen. Not as Borat--as himself. Sasha is to die for.”

“
They say Sasha’s an Orthodox Jew like Sheldon,” I said, “though I find that really hard to believe. I can’t imagine Orthodox Jews would approve of sticking your face in a fat guy’s butt.”

“
I didn’t see that movie,” Charlene said, “now I’m not going to.”

“
I wonder if Sheldon would like it?” I mused aloud.

“
I’ve seen it.” Sheldon turned around. “Disgusting!”

When we got to Bed Stuy Sheldon got into the back, grabbed me and kissed me. I kissed him back because I couldn’t help it but I wasn’t forgiving him that fast. “How did you find me? Did you hire a vampire detective or what?”

“
Why didn’t you call? How could you cry on my shoulder and open your heart to me and then disappear? What kind of game were you playing?” I shot back at him. I had no intention of answering his questions until I was good and ready.

“
I don’t play games, Rhoda. I was just protecting you. Wait until we get to your apartment—I’ll explain everything. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“
You shouldn’t swear—I think it’s a Christian thing. But there’s something very important you need to do for me and you sure as hell are going to do it.”

“
What is it?”

“
I’ll tell you later. I want you to promise you’ll do whatever I ask no matter what it is.” I felt I had the upper hand at the moment but might not get it again.

“
OK, as long as you tell me how you found me,” he said. “I have a feeling I may be sorry, but I promise.”

I was half-afraid Sheldon might fly away before he got back to my apartment, assuming he could fly, which I’d never seen him do.

“
Sheldon, can you fly?” I asked him as we trudged upward. “If you can I wish you would fly me up these stairs. I’m exhausted.”

Charlene and Karen had discreetly disappeared into a neighborhood bar when we got out of the cab.

“
If I could fly why would I have to take a cab to Manhattan from Brooklyn? Or worse, the subway, which is how I get to work every night.” Sheldon said.

“
You take the subway?”

“
Unfortunately yes, I have my limits transportation-wise. I’m not Superman, just a lowly Jewish vampire who works in the diamond district.”

I unlocked my door, and led him to the couch where we sat side by side. He took my hand, gazed into my eyes and smiled. “OK, that wasn’t what you wanted to ask me, was it?”

“
No.” I felt very sullen. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much I cared.

“
You don’t have to ask me. I know.” He looked into my eyes soulfully. “You’re my little knish.”

“
Knish!! You’re calling me a knish.”

“
If I could have anything in the human world I’d have a knish, so you’re it.” He gave me such a big boyish grin that I almost forgot what a faithless bloodsucker he really was.

“
Answer the question. You know what the question is.” I put my legs up on my coffee table and pretended to relax. I didn’t want him to know how anxious I was about his answer.

“
No, you were not just a two-night stand for me. But in all these hundred years I have never let myself fall in love with a human woman. I didn’t want to ruin your life. Seeing
Fiddler
reminded me of what it’s like to lose everything you love. I didn’t want to put you through that. You deserve to find a nice Jewish guy, settle down and have babies.”

“
I’m too old for babies.” Actually my mom had me when she was forty so maybe late-life childbearing was in my genetic inheritance.

“
Forty-one is not that old. If you can’t have one you could always adopt,” he said.

“
We could adopt together.”

“
I doubt there’s an agency that would approve a vampire.”

“
C’mon, Sheldon, that’s not the real reason.”

“
Rhoda, you deserve better than me. What kind of life would you have with me? I don’t have a life. No way you would move to Brooklyn, much less Crown Heights. I can’t see you in a wig pretending to be Orthodox. You’d hate going to synagogue, much less standing behind a
mehitza.
You like to dress in jeans not long skirts. I’m sure you wear a bathing suit and go swimming now and then. Well, not if you live with me—unless you just swim with women. And I haven’t even mentioned the hours I keep.”

I ignored that. “Why would I have to wear a wig? Why do I have to stand behind a
mehitza
or go to synagogue at all? How does anyone know those women are wearing wigs anyway? All I’d have to do is put on a dress with long sleeves and push a baby carriage.”

“
And rent about ten kids,” he laughed.

“
OK, you’ll have to leave Crown Heights. Why can’t you be a Manhattan metrosexual vampire?”

“
I can’t leave Crown Heights. Can’t we just date for a while?”

“
You’re the one who didn’t call.” I started sulking again, turning away from him. I hated myself when I did that. It was so unattractive.

“
Rhoda, being a Hasid is my cover, it’s worked for a hundred years and I’m used to it. I’m set in my ways. I have responsibilities to be there for the vampire
minyan
who live in my building and to Goldie. There are folks out there who would like to kill me. Fundamentalist Christians for starters. And vampire hunters—you don’t even want to know about them.”

“
I ran into a bunch of those Christians on the tour.”

“
So that’s how you found me. That
fershtunken
tour. They’re always pointing out our building to scare the tourists. Those Lubuvitchers will do anything to seem cool and hip.”

“
Our tour guide was a rapper.”

“
He was a ghost?”

“
Not a tapper, a rapper. You are really from another century. Rap is music. The kids love it.”

“
I never listen to music. I prefer audio books, except when Goldie is reading to me.”

“
That’s another thing, Goldie. Does she go wherever you go?”

“
She has for a hundred years. Without me she’d disintegrate. I wouldn’t want to destroy Goldie. She’s been a faithful servant and a good friend. ”

“
You are truly weird, and not just because you’re a vampire. Who has a golem? I thought they were mythical creatures?”

“
And I’m not?”

“
You’re not mythical to me.” I went over to give him a hug, but he moved to the window, pulled out a cigar and lit it.