CHOSEN-PART 6

She sure had a lot to be proud of.

Shirley strode down the street, her hands thrust into the pockets of her sweater, scarcely aware of the sun’s warmth on her face. She was in front of the hospital where they’d taken Lenny, who was now in surgery fighting for his life. All thanks to her hesitation, her inability to do the one thing she was intended to do; kill vampires.

At least not this one. She bit her lip, trying to keep from crying again. She’d shed so many tears in private since Carmine was killed and had returned that her eyes ached all the time. It was that same weakness that had kept her from protecting her friends and she hated it. She hated herself.

She wanted to hate him, too, and she succeeded a little. She despised the thing he was now, the monster that had threatened and mocked her, and the creature that used the remains of the man she’d loved to kill and hurt others. But though she could wrap her mind around the idea that the man and the monster were two different beings, she couldn’t convince her heart.

“There has to be something left of him, somewhere deep down inside,” she murmured. Lenny had explained that when a vampire was made, the soul of the person slain disappeared. Where did it go? she wondered. Was Carmine, the real Carmine, at rest somewhere far away? Or was his soul still there, floating around nearby, unable to reach her through the vessel the monster had hijacked?

“What if there’s a way to get to him, to reach the real Carmine?” What then? Would he breathe again, be himself, love her once more? She gave her head a hard shake. “Stupid! This is what made you hesitate! This is what got Lenny hurt.”

She glanced up at the hospital, her hands balling into fists. “Not next time,” she vowed. “I’ll find him, and the next time I won’t screw up. I promise, I won’t let him harm another person!”

No matter how much it hurts me to stop him.

***

Laverne waited until Lenny was out of surgery and back in his cubicle in ICU. She stayed by his side until Squiggy arrived. “Hey, there.”

“Hey.” He nodded toward Lenny, who lay pale and motionless in the narrow bed. “So, how’d he do?”

She shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess. The doctors said it’ll take another day or so before they know anything definite, though.” She ran her fingers through Lenny’s hair, enjoying the sensation of the soft strands against her skin. It was a lot nicer now that he’d stopped greasing all the time, she noted absently.

“Oh. Well, as long as he’s still breathin’, that’s all that matters.” Squiggy pulled over a small chair and sat down next to the bed. “Look, if you wanna hit the cafeteria or something, I’ll stay with him.”

“No that’s okay. I don’t want to leave, you know, in case he wakes up.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Then Squiggy cleared his throat. “I was maybe a little tough on Shirl yesterday, wasn’t I?”

“She can take it,” snapped Laverne. Then she sighed. “She loved Carmine, Squig. I guess she just couldn’t – you know. Destroy what was left of him.”

“Yeah, I get that. I was just so mad…I mean, I was just getting done being pissed at Len here and before we could make nice, this happened. So I just moved my mad over to Shirley, y’know?”

She smiled, reaching over to pat his arm. “It’s okay, Squig. Maybe Shirl needed a little kick in the pants.” Her smile faded as a new thought struck her. “With Lenny out of the picture, she’s truly all we got left. If Carmine comes back….”

“Yeah, I thought of that, too. Maybe we all oughta get some industrial-sized crosses to wear.”

“Something tells me crosses alone won’t be enough.” She thought for a moment, then stood up. “Squiggy, I’m gonna take you up on that offer. Stay here with Len, please. I don’t want him to wake up all alone.”

“Not a problem. Hey, where you going?”

“I got an idea, ‘bout how I can help Shirley help all of us. I’ll be back later, okay?” She paused, went back over to the bed, and leaned over to kiss Lenny on the cheek. Then she straightened and scurried out of the room.

She made it to the carnival near dusk and headed straight down the midway for the gaudy purple-and-gold tent. To her dismay, the sign in front of it read, “Out to dinner.”

“Damnit!” She kicked the sign and wondered what to do now.

“Hey, what do you think you’re…oh. It’s you, Princess.” The gypsy, Madame Donna, stuck her head out of the flap of her tent. She regarded Laverne with heavily lidded eyes.

“Why do you keep callin’ me that?” Laverne demanded. “Oh, never mind. Look, I need your help.”

“Really. And I should help you after you’ve insulted me over and over again…why, exactly?” The older woman glared at her, but there was a glimmer of something else in her grayish eyes.

“Because. Because you knew Shirley was the Slayer and you knew Carmine was a vampire. I gotta tell ya, lady, I’ve never been one for superstitious mumbo-jumbo, but when the supernatural starts jumping up and slapping me in the face? Well, I ain’t dumb enough to pretend it’s not happening.”

Madame Donna just looked at her for a moment. Then she laughed, a rich hearty sound. “Come on in, Princess. Have a seat. Although I am not sure there is much I can do for you now.”

Laverne went inside and took a seat in one of the small foldout chairs. Madame Donna settled into the other, pushing aside the pastrami sandwich that lay half-eaten next to her crystal ball. Leaning forward, her elbows on the table, the gypsy asked, “What is it, exactly, that you want from me?”

“I…” Now that she was here, across from the woman, Laverne felt stupid even asking. But she thought of Lenny and plowed on. “Carmine’s after Shirley. More than that, he seems hell-bent on torturing her first, by killing all of us.”

“Vampires. They’re like that.”

“Yeah, well, Shirley can’t seem to get past her feelings for him to do what she’s gotta do. She held back and because of that,” she hesitated, forcing her tears back. “Because she couldn’t destroy him when she had the chance, my – our friend Lenny got stabbed. He’s gonna make it, he has to, but that doesn’t mean he’s out of danger. Carmine will be back, and I don’t think he’s gonna stop ‘til we’re all under ground.”

Madame Donna nodded, her face solemn. “So what do you think I can do to change this?”

“You obviously got some sort of powers. I figured, maybe you could whip up a potion or cast a spell or something, to make Shirley stop feeling her love for Carmine. Give her the strength she needs to do what she’s gotta do.”

Madame Donna chuckled. “I am not a witch, my dear. Casting spells, mixing up potions?” She shook her head. “However….”

“Yeah?”

“You asked me why I called you Princess before. Simple. Your mother was Josephine. She was Roma, did you know that? A gypsy.”

“I…no. I thought she was plain old Italian.”

“She was nothing plain. Her family was Romany royalty, an old and proud line that could be traced back to the forgotten times.” Madame Donna’s eyes shone. “They had knowledge of the Old Ways that has since been lost to most of us.”

Laverne shook her head. “I never knew any of this. I guess I was too young and then, well, she was gone.”

“And of course that father of yours told you nothing!” The gypsy sighed. “This is why marrying outside leads to no good. Your mother turned away from her heritage, robbing all of us of a treasure trove of knowledge. Such a shame.” She arched one over-plucked eyebrow at Laverne. “Of course, the raw talent, it is still here.”

Laverne shook her head. “I don’t have any magic powers. I can’t even predict a lottery drawing!”

“Undisciplined, untapped, but nevertheless, they are inside you.” Madame Donna jabbed a long, ringed finger at Laverne’s chest. “You need to tap into that power, start using it to protect yourself and those you love. If the Slayer fails in her duties, you will be their only hope.”

“Great.” Laverne slumped forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “So what do I do? Wave my hands around and shout abracadabra until something useful happens?”

Madame Donna snorted. “Not exactly.” She leaned across the table, taking Laverne’s free hand and holding it tightly. “There was a curse, ancient and binding, used to stop another ravening vampire back in the Old Country. The specifics have unfortunately been lost, but the one who wielded it was a direct ancestor of your mother. If anyone still possessed the knowledge and ability to hurl that curse, it was she.”

“But she’s gone!” wailed Laverne. “What am I supposed to do?” Her eyes fell on the gypsy’s crystal ball and she bit her lower lip. “Can you really use that, maybe call up her spirit so I can ask her?”

Madame Donna cocked her head to one side. “I could. Or, you could just try asking your father.”

***

“…and then we’ll go to the Tar Pits, I know how much you like goo, and we can bring lunch, maybe some nice peanut butter and Bosco samiches, and those ridgy chips you like, or maybe nachos….”

Lenny wondered if he was dreaming the stream of seemingly random words. He blinked and opened his eyes, staring until the blurred dark image beside him snapped into focus. “Oh,” he said, surprised by the weakness of his own voice. “I should have known.”

“Hey, you’re up!” Squiggy looked down at him, his face splitting into a wide grin. He leaned over and put his hands on Lenny’s shoulders in an awkward approximation of a hug.

“It’s nice to see you too.” Lenny cleared his throat and looked around the room. “Where are we?”

“Burbank General. They glued you back together again, real nice.” Squiggy pointed at his stomach.

Lenny looked down and saw the outline of a thick bandage wrapped around his midsection through the thin cotton hospital gown he was wearing. His breath caught in his throat as a flood of memories swept through his mind. “Oh, God! Laverne, is Laverne all right?” He grabbed Squiggy’s wrist, staring up at him in wide-eyed desperation.

His friend nodded, patting his hand. “No worries, my friend. She’s fine, completely okay.”

“And Shirley? Is she…?”

Squiggy hesitated. “Yeah, she’s fine, too.”

“Squig?” He didn’t like the little guy’s tone of voice.

“I ain’t lying!” Squiggy made a cross over his heart. “Stick needles in my eyes and everything. They ain’t hurt, neither of ‘em.”

Lenny sank back against his pillow. “All right then. That’s good. But where are they now?”

“Laverne called to check on you a few minutes ago from her dad’s place.”

Lenny waited, but Squiggy just stared at the floor. “And Shirley?”

“She’s…out.”

“Out where? Spill it, Squig! I’m responsible for her, remember?”

Squiggy heaved a sigh. “I don’t know, okay? I kinda yelled at her a little, y’know, for letting Carmine put a big hole in your middle, and then after we got you here she took off.”

“Oh, no,” Lenny groaned. “How could you let her just wander off like that? She’s the Slayer, for God’s sakes! She’s a magnet for demons, yet she’s almost completely unprepared to deal with them!”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for her to take off, but what was I supposed to do to stop her?”

The guilt in his eyes belied Squiggy’s defensiveness. Lenny relented, struggling to come up with something useful to do next. “You have to find her, Squig.”

“Me? But Carmine’s still out there!”

“Yes, and so is Shirley. You have to bring her back here, so that I can give her the guidance she needs. I may not be able to train her body right now, but I can still impart knowledge.”

Squiggy raised his eyebrows. Finally he said, “You don’t even sound like you anymore, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Lenny met his gaze. “That doesn’t mean I’m not still your friend. You believe me, right?”

“I want to.” Squiggy shrugged. “I know that I don’t want to not be your friend. But how’s it possible…I mean, you’re not a dumbass anymore.”

Lenny chuckled, then winced and pressed a hand against his bandaged midsection. “Ow. If I wasn’t still at least a little bit of a dumbass, I wouldn’t have let a vampire get behind me and run me through like a shish kebab, right?”

Squiggy’s expression brightened. “You got a point there.” He squared his shoulders. “I’m gonna go find Shirley now and bring her here. And I’ll let Laverne know your awake and waiting to see her, too.”

Lenny nodded. “Good idea. We’ll all be safer if we stick close together, and stay that way, especially after dark.”

Squiggy walked to the door. He paused and glanced back over his shoulder with a knowing grin. “Yeah. It’s her safety your worried about. Right!” With that, he disappeared into the hallway.

“Well, it is,” muttered Lenny to his retreating figure. “Of course it is. What else would it be?”

***

The midday sun shone overhead, and Shirley’s fingers convulsed around the sharp length of wood she’d tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. She’d broken off the spoon on one end and sharpened the tip so that the stake now had two razor-sharp ends.

She ran over everything Lenny had told her during their training session about how to kill a vampire. Wooden stake through the heart, beheading, fire – anything else would just incapacitate them briefly at best; enrage them at worse. There were no half measures, no second chances during a pitched battle. They’d gotten lucky the other night; Carmine had backed off partially because of his own inexperience and partly because he wanted to stretch out his torture of her. She knew she wouldn’t be that fortunate again.

Vampires also preferred to rest during the day, but did not have to. So long as they stayed out of the sun, they could function, if a bit more sluggishly than during the night. A fledgling vampire may not know he had the option of staying awake during the day, and therefore would likely seek shelter from sunrise to sundown and fall dormant. Carmine had been a vampire for less than a week. If she had any shot of taking him by surprise, it was now.

She walked into the graveyard she’d passed so many days on her way to work, paying it little attention save to whistle softly. It was an automatic response, in honor of her late grandmother who had passed along years of Irish superstition. She hesitated only a moment at the entrance, a set of large, wrought iron gates. Then she pushed them open and marched inside, eyes scanning for a likely hideout.

Shirley found an arrangement of larger monuments and mausoleums near the back of the cemetery. One by one, she kicked in the doors, forcing back any pangs of guilt over the necessary vandalism. Her searches were frustrating, uncovering nothing more than ripe corpses and bare bones.

“Where are you?” she groaned, slamming shut yet another coffin. What if he hadn’t gone the traditional route? What if he was sleeping in some basement somewhere, or even dug a hole in the ground to crawl into for the day? Frustrated, she kicked a stone bier, sending a spray of chips into the air but accomplishing little else. Then she stormed out of the crypt.

***

He stifled a laugh, watching her break down doors and flip open coffin lids for hours. This was little Miss Clean, Shirley ‘Windex’ Feeney, getting her hair full of cobwebs and her dainty hands coated with dust? “If your mother could only see you now,” Carmine whispered, crouching behind a stone sepulcher.

He spent the rest of the afternoon watching her from a safe distance, always keeping to the shadows. His one attempt to step boldly into the sunlight had quickly confirmed the truth behind the stories…vampires burnt up in the daylight. The skin on his right arm still throbbed at the memory, the flesh scorched by his brief foray. At least he knew it would be totally healed by nightfall.

However, he didn’t have to sleep, and that knowledge brought a thrill of confidence. His one worry had been that he’d be caught lying helpless during the day and wake up with a wooden stake being hammered into his chest. Now he knew that he never had to be vulnerable, no matter whether the sun or the moon ruled the sky.

Finally, Shirley gave up and marched out of the graveyard. He’d considered hopping out and shouting, “Boo!” at her, but decided discretion was the better choice. Shirley had gained some otherworldly strength of her own – he’d felt it first-hand the other night – and so couldn’t be taken lightly as a threat. Besides, he wasn’t done playing with her yet, and he didn’t want to be forced to end her life before he was ready.

So he kept to the shadows until he found a sewer entrance, then used his keen hearing to follow her footsteps for the rest of the day. When night fell and his powers were at their peak, that’s when he’d offer her up the next sacrifice. And this time, Laverne would not get away.

***

Her father had been beyond reluctant to talk to her about her mother’s family. But Laverne had prodded and cajoled until he threw his hands up in the air and told her what she needed to know. He confirmed pretty much everything Madame Donna had said – he’d fallen in love with Josephine, her Roma family had refused the union because he was an outsider, the elopement, and the severance of all ties to her past.

“Truth is, it weighed on your mamma’s heart, not being around her own kind no more.” Frank thumped his kitchen table with the flat of his hand. “Every so often, she’d go up into the attic to her old chest of things from her childhood. She’d take everything out, one by one, and just stare at them, and put them all back again. She’d be hours up there sometimes.”

Laverne pressed her lips together, tears stinging her eyes. “Poor Mamma. She must’ve missed her parents so.”

“Yeah, her parents.” Frank’s eyebrows knit. “Strangest woman, her mother. Eyes that could look right into your soul. She scared me, that one, no question.” He grunted. “Guess I’m lucky she didn’t put a good old fashioned whammy on me!”

Laverne leaned across the table, grasping his hand. “Pop, could she do that? I mean, really curse people?”

Frank paused. “I don’t know about really. Even my mamma believed in the evil eye and stuff, but…nah, it’s all just stories.”

“Sometimes stories are based on truth.” Laverne set her jaw. “Pop, do you still have Mamma’s trunk?”

“Sure, sure I do. I got everything of your mother’s. Why?”

“I want to see it.”

He hesitated. “I don’t know, Muffin. It’s just full of old junk and strange things that might be best left alone.”

“Please, Pop. It’s really important! I…I can’t explain why right now, but I’ve gotta look inside!”

He groaned and rose slowly to his feet. “Come on, then.”

They went into his bedroom in the trailer. He opened his small closet, knelt down, and hauled out an old style steamer trunk, mottled wood with rusted metal trappings. He gestured toward the padlock. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know where the key is. Your mother always kept it on her and I kinda lost track of it during the move from Milwaukee.”

“Oh.” Laverne slumped down on the floor in front of the trunk, running her hand over the lid. She felt a sharp pang of grief and in that moment, she missed her mother more than she had since losing her for the first time as a little girl. She let her hand rest on the top of the trunk, then slide its way down to the metal padlock.

“I’ll give you a minute,” mumbled her father, backing out of the bedroom.

Her fingertips touched the lock, and she imagined her mother sliding the key into it, opening the catch and slowly raising the lid to gaze at her treasures. “I’m sorry, Mamma,” Laverne whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “You gave up so much for us.”

There was a loud click. Laverne blinked and watched as the padlock opened itself and slid free of the catch, dropping toward the floor. She managed to catch it before it could clatter against the linoleum, then sat and stared at it in her palm for a moment or two.

“Well,” she said. “Thanks, Mamma. Or was that me?”

She flung open the lid and ran her hands through the items inside. They were in pretty good shape considering all the years and travel. Laverne sifted through a set of old stacking dolls, some photographs of women and men in layers of odd clothing, and assorted pieces of beaded jewelry. Toward the bottom, her hand closed on something crinkly wrapped around a hard core and she pulled it out.

It was a scroll. She rolled it open and stared at the unfamiliar words, faded black ink on crumpled yellowing parchment. Some of the words were almost recognizable from the little Italian she knew, but were just different enough to be unreadable. “Must be a gypsy language,” she noted. She started to roll up the scroll, but hesitated. It felt important in her hands. It felt like something she should have.

She rolled it tight, then opened her handbag and put it inside, leaving the top of her purse open to accommodate the size of the thing. Then she closed the trunk, refastened the padlock and rose to her feet, slapping her palms together to dust them off.

“Sorry you couldn’t get into it,” said Frank when she came out of the bedroom. “I’ll try and find the key, if it’s so important to you.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Pop, but that’s okay. I got what I came here for.”

He gave her a quizzical look, but she just smile as she left the trailer. Once outside, a quick glance at the sky showed her that the sun was beginning its descent. Better hurry, she thought, and dashed back to her car.
To Part 7