Travel Bug (29 page)

“I didn’t know Shaw liked to swim.”

“He doesn’t like to swim, Dad,” said Herbert.

It was not long before we saw Shaw’s friend go down into the ocean, never to come back out of it alive again. Even with the last terrible screams coming out of his friend’s throat, Shaw swam on.

“I guess I won’t be going down with the ship,” said Shaw.

“No,” Dad answered.”

“I was sorry to see my friend eaten by the great white but there was simply no way to save him.”

“No,” said Dad.

“I guess we should call the island chief of police or perhaps Mayor Benchley.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“You know, men have come close to killing…”

“Hello,” I said.

“Honey, what are you doing here?”

“I was just tagging alone,” Mom said.

“Then who is going to help your Mom with dinner. Lots of cleaning and leftovers… Your brother doesn’t help. Mom can always use help…”

“Yes, good point, Dad.”

“You need to go right now and take Herbert with you.”

“Alright, if that’s what you think is best…”

“The grownups need to talk now.”

“Understood,” I said sarcastically.

My father attempted to listen to the captain but Shaw wasted his words and every breath it took to utter them.

“That was a great fake shark trick.”

“Uh, yes, it sure was,” said Shaw.

“Do you want to come to our house for dinner?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Well, I’m not hungry but I do need to use the phone.”

“Excellent.”

“How about your first mate, does he want to come, too?”

“No, he’s in the water.”

“I see.”

I couldn’t see Shaw on my way back home with Herbert but I sensed his disbelief in the madness of my father’s obliviousness. The way that people were in denial was typically over drinking, drugs, adultery, bad grades, small towns, religion, death, love, hate, loyalty or any normal part of being human. This was not the same. This was the insanity of not knowing what was going on right in front of your very eyes.

“I hope you get your appetite back,” said Dad. “My wife makes great dinner rolls.”

“That’s nice,” he answered.

If I could travel through time on other planets where the life forms have five eyes and eight arms, I could never find another set of parents like the ones that I got.

Most kids, at least American kids with the pretense of being unhappy or having it “hard” blame mom and dad for everything it seems. They didn’t get to do this or didn’t get to do that or they should have gotten more attention, the list is endless. I guess my brothers and me always just sort of wanted normal screw ups for parents. Moms and Dads can mess kids up but they should have the common sense to move out of a haunted house. I wonder if my Mom and Dad would even notice they were living under a fiendish dictator if we were. My guess is they would say he was popular and always got reelected.

“Your dad is something else,” said Shaw.

“I know and so is Mom,” I answered.

The man had long dreamed of getting the big fish but failed time after time. He had gone through a remarkable amount of first mates. Ironically, our own local mad seaman didn’t need one false leg to be a great character.

“Mr. Shaw?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“I just have to know…”

“Well, I suppose pride goes before a great fall.”

“I see.”

“You know, I never twisted anyone’s arm or blackmailed them. They all died by that bloody shark but I never forced anyone on my crusade against the beast.”

“I’m sure.”

“Still, the blood is on my hands, my mates.”

“Let’s get you to a phone.”

Mom had dinner ready. It was really quite extravagantly put out for a simple middle class meal in our little bay town. The spaghetti looked wonderful and so did those world famous dinner rolls of hers. The wine was poured and my father drank some before it hit the top of the wine glass. Mom made veal and had some lovely shrimp cocktails for an appetizer.

“Mr. Shaw, are you staying for dinner?” Mom asked.

“Yes, I believe I will. Thank you. May I use your phone?”

“Yes, of course, sir,” answered mom.

I would have thought I was going mad or maybe just plain seeing things in the dark had I not known a lifetime in Emityville. A large and gruesome looking vampire bat was flying outside the window. The bat was my brother and so was his master. This was true despite Dad thinking he was just another big mosquito. I followed the bat’s movement slowly.

Mom and Dad were talking to Mr. Shaw and my other brother was eating. I left out the back door. There was no big mystery here at all. The bat became… Master Klaus.

“Good evening,” said the vampire.

“Hello, I ‘m Heather.”

“It’s a pleasure, young mistress.”

“Likewise, I’m sure,” I said.

This creature of the night was probably centuries old and very clever. I knew he was very sure of himself and knew the weaknesses of man as well as the power of his own dark strength. Whatever discussion we were going to have, I know he did not consider me even one hundredth of his equal.

“Your brother is with me, my child,” said the vampire.

“I can see that.”

“He is one of my, how you say… children.”

“Don’t you mean, he’s one of the children of the night?” I asked.

“Very amusing, young miss.”

“We just walked back from the bay moments ago.”

“Yes. You see, he ate some of his dinner. Apparently, the part of him that was still human forgot about the garlic.”

“Oh.”

“I was invited in by him as is the custom but your father hurt me when I was in the form of a bat.”

“I would like to say he was paying attention to the fact that you are what you are.”

“That is certainly not the case,” he said.

“I know.”

“Your father was under the impression that I was…”

“A big bug…”

“Yes.”

“He meant no disrespect… you see…”

“I know, we all know. All of us creatures of the night as you say or things of darkness know of your family.”

“I’m sure.”

“You see, species from other planets, the man who returns from the grave in nightmares to haunt the community’s children, the ghosts and demons who haunt your house, we all talk.”

I couldn’t speak. The stupidity and insanity of my Mom and Dad had been spoken of by the mysterious evil creatures that inhabited our little town.

“So, they’re a joke to all of you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Far from, a joke, young miss. They are legend.”

“That’s why you are seeking out my brother for eternal life, I suppose.”

“Yes. Even the unnatural birth of their son into darkness will not faze Mom and Dad…”

“No. Really, I mean honestly?”

“You are wise for your age,” said the vampire.

“I do not wish to become a vampire,” I answered him.

“I believe you would make a great one…”

“I am flattered, master but that is not what I wish.”

There was a long pause.

“Will you think about it?” he asked. I couldn’t help notice his razor sharp teeth as he smiled devilishly at me.

“Surely I will…”

“No. You’re a liar.”

“They were unaware of your true nature as well.”

“No, they are cowards.”

“Chief of Police Benchley, a coward you say?”

“The biggest coward of them all, I should think. If he was not then he would have been drained of all his blood by one us. He is not safe on land or sea. The things from beyond the stars could harvest him or he could die from the child killer in his dreams. There is much danger. He could have died when the family called him, the previous owners of your home. They were worried about their father killing them. He came, like most men of the law, after their brains were splattered all over the walls.”

“Jesus, I see.”

“I want to ask you something.”

“I don’t know… my dear and I don’t need to read your thoughts to know what you are going to ask me.”

“Really, am I that obvious?”

“I don’t know if the shark could kill me or if I could turn it into a vampire shark.”

“I see,” I answered the vampire.

“That is what you were going to ask.”

“Indeed it was.”

“Let me tell one more secret about us. We cannot and do not ever tell lies.”

“I knew there was a reason I was proud to have my brother become one of you. Would you like to come in for dinner?”

“Am I invited?”

“Yes, for the second time.”

Guess who’s coming to dinner? Guess who was already there? Benchley, who was a coward according to Nosferatu the town vampire, was already eating one of Mom’s famous dinner rolls. Shaw was drinking a tall glass of wine. This was a good excuse for my embarrassingly drunken idiot father to start getting a second buzz going.

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’ll be along soon enough,” said the vampire.

“Good,” mom answered.

“Hey, are you our neighbor?” Dad asked him.

“I am,” said Klaus.

“Then why the hell don’t you have a drink before dinner, what do you say, neighbor?”

“No, thank you, neighbor, I think not.”

“Why?”

“I never drink… box of wine.”

“Oh.”

The sea captain smiled at the vampire. This is something that can, of course, only happen at our little family meals. Klaus sat down beside Benchley. The coward got up and immediately sat on other side of the table. It was like magic, black magic that is. Everyone smiled.

“Do you run some type of camp?” Dad asked Klaus.

“What do you mean, sir?”

Dad was already beginning to build up the denial mechanism in his twisted paternal brain. If Camp Klaus was a camp for kids during the day then there was an excuse to disbelieve in his son being overtaken by the undead. He had done this before. Then we heard the doorbell ring. We weren’t too crowded; this was more of a middle class than working class community. Our kitchen and dining room could actually hold a good fifteen to twenty guests.

“Who the hell is that, now, honey?”

“I don’t know,” Mom answered.

“You know I was about to discuss camp with Klaus and…”

Mom answered the door and there was our other neighbor. He was definitely an illegal alien if the border could be measured in light years. Only a fool or a crazy person would think something was not wrong with this guy. He spoke in a robotic, inhuman voice.

“Hello,” said the neighbor.

“Hello yourself,” Mom said.

“Hello,” he said again.

Even the cowardly chief of police and the insane fisherman knew something was up at this dinner party. They looked at each other and instantly realized that the great white was the very least of Emityville’s problems.

“Sir, forgive me but what is your name again?” asked the vampire.

“Jim.”

“Jim?”

“Jim Jones.”

“Wow, just like that fucking cult leader,” said Dad in a very drunk voice.

“Jim Jones.”

“Please stay for dinner, Mr. Jones,” said Mom.

Then Jones took out a small rock…

“Where is Henry?” asked Mom.

“I told you I was going for a walk! I was really getting drunk you know.”

“Honey, I was making dinner, you know that.”

The beautiful gift from Jim Jones was a clear indication that my brother Henry had been eaten on the home planet.

“Mr. Jones?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you have that foreign exchange program you run?”

“Honey, don’t embarrass him.”

“Embarrass him, hell, I never brought up that he was gay.”

“What?” Mom asked.

Apparently, being gay was a good way for two aliens’ disguised as humans to keep up appearances as typical Emityville neighbors.

“What is your partner’s name?” asked Benchley.

“Steve.”

“Steve what?” asked Shaw.

“Steve Stevens. His name is Steve Stevens,” said the carnivorous alien in disguise.

Well, this was quite a little dinner of the insane and the damned. I guess I might have mentioned that mom and dad were a little self-absorbed, didn’t I? If they thought of things beyond themselves and the superficial then perhaps they could have finally realized the dark truth. Both of their male children were victims now. One was food for extraterrestrial carnivores and the other was about to become a vicious blood drinking little fiend. Did they fully realize this? No. Did they realize this on some hidden deep level? I hope so.

“Damn this is good scotch!”

“Glad you like it, Dad,” said Mom.

“You’re damn right I like it, I’m wasted already.”

“You sure are,” Mom answered him.

“Christ, I could use another drink,” said Shaw.

“I could use one as well,” said Benchley.

“Where’s my little boy?” Dad asked.

“He’s being served as the main course of dinner in some outer space restaurant,” I said.

“Like that episode of that “Twilight Zone.” Dad laughed. “You know the one…”

“To Serve Man,” Mom answered.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s the one.”

“That was a funny episode,” she said.

“I’m talking about real life here!”

“What?”

“Mom, your little baby has suffered a terrible, awful, unspeakable death. He has been eaten alive just as if that damned shark ate him in the bay! Do you understand, Mom?”

“What?”

“This should be every parent’s worst nightmare that their child dies a tragic, agonizing death. Christ, you’re worse than that hippie liberal father whose son was beheaded in Iraq!”

“That Rod Serling show wasn’t real, honey.”

“No, seriously, where is my son?” asked Dad, drunk and concerned.

“I don’t know, honey,” Mom answered.

“You know,” said Benchley.

The shark hunter shook his head in disbelief.

“This is going be a fine dinner,” said Mom.

“Yes it is,” Dad said.

“When our other guests arrive, I think this will be a night we will never forget here in good old Emityville.”

The next guests did arrive. They were the dead children, the slain children of our one hooked psycho killer. Children typically walk; they don’t float five feet in the air. They had blood dripping from their eyes that were all white with no signs of pupils anywhere to be found.