The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove (28 page)

shut cabinets. He came out a few minutes later. “This place is really cozy. I

haven’t been here since it was fixed up.”

“Mr. Mason?” I said and looked up at his friendly face.

“Well, here we are,” he said and sat in the armchair. “The founders of

Greenwood, including those who founded the school, emigrated from Eastern

Europe. They’d been persecuted because they practiced pre-Christian folk

traditions, and they’d developed a habit of secrecy. Funny, how some preChristian ideas, like the Easter Bunny and the Christmas tree, become part of

popular culture and others are despised.”

“Was that a religious ceremony?”

“It’s symbolic, like Valentine’s Day, not religious. The founders came from

farming people, and the ceremonies are based on crop cycles.”

“That man’s hand was cut.”

“It’s a minor surface cut, less than you’d get scraping your knee,” he said,

and I was aware of his eyes on my arm. I pressed my elbow close to my side to

hide the bruise.

Mr. Mason said, “Did you know that tonight is the autumn equinox? That’s

why I was out – so I could watch the ceremony. It’s in honor of the ancient sungod, who was connected to fire and the autumn harvest.”

“That’s why they had the fruits and torches.”

“Yes. Not everyone gets to witness such an ancient rite. Consider yourself

lucky.”

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Lucky. “What language were they speaking?”

“My wife told me it’s thought to be a dialect of Dacien, an ancient Slavic

language. Like the Latin you study, it’s long dead.”

It wasn’t hard for me to piece things together. I said, “The founders moved

here because it was foggy and they’re sensitive to sunlight.”

Mr. Mason took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Go

ahead, Jane,” he said encouragingly.

“They used blood in their ceremonies and people thought they were

vampires.”

“You get an A,” he said. “Now, for extra credit, do
you
believe they’re

vampires?”

“I don’t believe in the supernatural. I believe in what can be proved by

science and reason.” Even as I spoke an image of a mysterious green and

shadowy place flashed in my mind.

“You’re a smart girl, Jane,” he said proudly. “Their genetic anomaly makes

them highly sensitive to sunlight and gives them a craving for red foods.”

“Red food like rare meat, tomato sauces, strawberries, blood…”

The tea kettle whistled and Mr. Mason said, “Back in a minute.” He

returned shortly with two mugs. “Sweet and milky for you.”

“Thank you.”

Sitting back down he said, “Yes, they crave blood, but they don’t need it.

There’s a psychological component to their metabolism which requires

considerable protein in their diet. Red foods and drinks can satisfy the cravings.”

“But they
do
drink blood?”

“Generally animal, like many peoples in the world. The Maasai live on

blood and milk. The English have blood pudding and the Italians have blood

sausage.”

“Using animal blood as food may be common, but drinking human blood

isn’t.”

“It’s only done consensually,” Mr. Mason said. “If any of them took blood

without permission, he’d be dealt with seriously and immediately. So now you

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know it all.”

I looked into his eyes and said, “Do I really, Mr. Mason, or is there

anything else you’d like to tell me? Does the genetic anomaly have any other

effect?”

“Nothing significant. They live a slightly longer than other people and

they’re immune to most diseases. They’ve got excellent eyesight and slightly

more muscle mass,” he said.

“That sounds very significant to me,” I said, thinking of how quickly

meningitis had killed Hosea. “Does everybody here know?”

He shook his head. “Only a few of those most trusted – some in town and a

handful of us at the school. I learned about them through my wife’s relationship

with the headmistress’s family. They took her in and gave her incredible

opportunities.”

“Mrs. Mason was a scholarship student, too, wasn’t she?”

“Yes. She wasn’t one of them, though. The condition can only be passed

genetically. We have a few students with the condition.”

I thought of Hattie, so pale, so close to the Monroe family, so helpful to the

new scholarship student. “Harriet Tyler’s one, too.” When he nodded, I asked,

“What do you call them?”

“Most of them avoid using the term vampire, which is too dangerous to use

in a society that prefers superstition to science.” He shrugged and said,

“Superstition is easier because it requires no analytical thought. The Monroes and

most of their kind in this area call themselves Family.”

Family
. The word had a lot of power to someone didn’t have one.

There was a knock on the door and Mr. Mason got up to answer it. Mrs.

Monroe stood there in dark slacks and a light coat. “Hello, Albert, Jane,” she said

and came in.

“Hello, Hyacinth.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Jane was watching

the ceremony and I’ve been telling her a little about the Family.”

She slipped off her coat and said, “May I sit?

I nodded and she joined me on the sofa. I was trying to digest what I’d just

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seen with this proper woman beside me.

“Would you like me to stay?” Mr. Mason asked her. “I’m usually not up so

late.”

“No, go on to bed, Albert,” Mrs. Monroe said. “You’re a dear for helping.”

“Always glad to be of service. I told Jane the basic facts about the Family,

but I’m sure she still has lots of questions. Goodnight, Jane.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Monroe,” I said and watched him leave, closing the door

behind him.

Mrs. Monroe gave me a concerned look. “Well, Jane, I’d hoped to let you

know when you were more settled in at Birch Grove. Well, not everything in life

can be planned. I can’t imagine what you thought!”

“I thought it was a cult.”

“Oh, heavens, we’re not that adventurous,” she said. “We try to carry on

some of the old celebrations. One of our members is a cultural anthropologist,

and she says it’s important not to lose all the old ways even if they’re merely

ceremonial.”

“Mrs. Monroe, why am
I
here?”

She leaned forward with the same kind, intelligent expression that she’d

had when we first met. “Do you know how hard I searched for a bright, ethical,

level-headed young woman who could fully appreciate the opportunities Birch

Grove offers?.”

“There are thousands of smart, ethical girls who would want to come to

Birch Grove on scholarship, ma’am. I was selected because I don’t have any

family.”

“I won’t deny that your isolation was a factor, since secrecy is of the utmost

importance to us,” she said. “However, you do yourself a disservice if you

assume that every compliment is merely flattery, Jane.”

“I prefer information to compliments.”

“I’ll try to explain,” Mrs. Monroe said with a smile. “Our young men have

powerful cravings for blood and like most young men, they lack impulse control.

One mistake and they endanger themselves and expose us all. They need a

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companion, a faithful friend who is intelligent and caring who will help steady

them. These companions become part of our extended family, trusted and cared

for.”

Taking my hands in hers, Mrs. Monroe said, “We would be honored if you

would agree to be Lucien’s companion, Jane.”

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“Birch Grove endeavors to support students as they learn to take on

challenging moral decisions about their personal lives.”

Birch Grove Student Handbook

MRS. MONROE’S HANDS
were soft and pale. “If you say yes, we’ll take care

of you for the rest of your life, Jane. You and Lucky would go to college together

and graduate school. We will pay for your tuition, a comfortable apartment or

house, a car, food, clothing, and incidentals.”

Lucky and security,
I thought.

“You’ll stay close to Lucky,” she continued. “You’ll have to make

compromises, of course, but in exchange, we’ll offer you all of our resources, and

our support so that your life is as enriching and fulfilling as possible.”

I saw it all before me. I would be free from poverty and loneliness. I

would be safe. Lucky would be beside me and I wouldn’t have to hide our

relationship.

“And what would my responsibilities be?”

“Lucky will want to taste human blood now and then,” she said with an

apologetic smile. “Only a few millimeters at each feeding, which won’t endanger

your health at all. He may ask you to act as his assistant occasionally, however, I

don’t want him relying on you to be his housekeeper or to do his schoolwork.

You’ll be a liaison between Lucky and the Family. If anyone gets suspicious of

him, or if you feel that he needs our help, you’ll act to protect him.”

“No one believes in vampires.”

“No one with any common sense, but that leaves the majority of the

population,” she said. “Our people have been treated too brutally in the past –

though those atrocities never made the history books – and we’re very cautious

now.”

“No one would hold a genetic anomaly against you now.”

“New times bring new dangers.” She turned my hand so that the inside of

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my elbow was visible. “Did Lucien do that?”

“Yes.”

“He was supposed to wait and he’s not supposed to…” she shook her head

and looked upset. “He’s not supposed to leave this kind of mark. Have you told

anyone?”

“No. Is Jack…?”

“Jacob’s normal. He knows why we brought you here, though.” She let go

of my hands and stood. “We have things in common, Jane. We’re careful, smart,

decent. You can give me your answer tomorrow.”

“What happens if my answer is no?”

“No one’s ever turned us down,” Mrs. Monroe answered. “However, if you

decided that you don’t want to be Lucien’s companion, we would certainly honor

our agreement to provide you with a Birch Grove education, and we would look

for someone who is interested in my son’s well-being.”

“Just as I was brought in to replace, Bebe.”

“She never turned us down, Jane. She left before we made the offer. And I

like you much better than Bebe. All of us, do. Goodnight, Jane.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Monroe.”

I didn’t even try to go to sleep that night. I wrote down everything that had

happened, everything I’d been told, in my composition book. I drew a diagram,

thinking that if I organized the information I’d be able to understand it better.

My diagram didn’t help because there was no way to factor in my pleasure

at being with Lucky, and his feelings for me were an unknown quantity.

Eventually, I turned off the light and stared out the window as night gave

way to day.

Shortly after sunrise, I saw Lucky coming down the path. I opened the door

and waited for him on the porch.

“Hi,” he said. “Come for a walk.” He started up the path, then veered off

on a narrow trail that had been hidden by tall shrubs. Leaves crunched under our

feet and birds chirped in the trees.

I studied Lucky as he walked ahead of me. His shoulders looked wide in a

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thin black sweater and his legs looked long in dark jeans. Occasionally a ray of

sunshine pierced the fog and trees and brightened his gold-streaked hair.

Soon we arrived at a small creek that wound around a boulder. Lucky

climbed atop the boulder and reached toward me. I gave him my hand and he

pulled me up to sit beside him.

“Jack and I used to play here. We built dams and had sword fights. He was

Jacob, Defender of the Grove, and I was Prince Lucien, heir to the Throne. He’d

still be happy playing here, but I grew out of that a long time ago.”

The water in the creek pooled down below, the same color as Jack’s eyes,

and the smell here was like Jack, green and fresh.

Lucky said, “My mom’s totally pissed off at me for not waiting.”

“She was calm last night. She told me about all of you like it was

completely normal.”

“She keeps it all in,” he said. “So, you saw them doing their freak show

last night and now everything’s out.”

“You said you weren’t a vampire.”

“I don’t
think
I’m one. I
am
one, only not the imaginary undead,

supernatural kind. I planned on explaining things later.”

“So Bebe was supposed to be here with you.”

“Yeah, I spent two years getting to know her, and then one day she bailed

on all of us,” he said sounding hurt and angry. “Her uncle, someone she’d never

told anyone about, asked her to live with him and his family. I didn’t even get a

fucking goodbye.”

“Were you in love with her?”

“Bebe? No way,” he said. “I could talk to her and she was cool. We were