Alex Lee Martinez - Gil's All Fright Diner

"Guess it's time to call Hector."

Duke nodded. "Couldn't hurt."

Earl asked to use Loretta's phone. She quickly agreed when he explained it should help resolve the situation. The vampire took a seat by the phone with a notepad.

"Who's he calling?"

"Just this guy we know in El Paso," Duke replied. "He's a warlock."

"Metaphysical scholar," Earl corrected.

"Whatever. He knows all about this kind of stuff."

"That so? Then why didn't you call him before?"

"Didn't realize the seriousness of the situation."

"Don't worry about a thing. I'm sure once I explain things to Hec, he'll — Hey, Hec. It's Earl. We got a big walking corpse problem, and we were hoping maybe you could help us out."

While Earl carried out his thorough phone consultation, Loretta gave the floor a cursory mopping, and, having nothing better to do, Duke lent a hand. They worked in awkward silence broken only by the slap of brown mops against tile and Earl's half-conversation. Finally, much as Duke tried to avoid it, both wound up wringing out their mops at the same time.

Loretta wrung first. "I don't want you feeling uncomfortable about this morning. If anyone should be embarrassed about that, it's me." She chuckled. "I came on a little strong. Hell, I was worse than a two-dollar whore."

"Wasn't that bad," Duke replied.

"Yes, it was. The point is, I've got needs, but that don't give me any right to force them on you. I understand if a handsome young fella like yourself doesn't want to have anything to do with a woman of my. . proportions."

An uncomfortable grunt rose from Duke's throat. "It ain't that."

"Now, now, I'm a grown woman. You don't gotta worry about hurting my feelings."

He dipped his mop in the bucket. She was right, of course. Somewhat. But there was more to it than that.

"Look. It ain't about that. You're a good woman, Loretta. And I'm, well, I am what I am."

She leaned closer and whispered. "You mean, you can't. . perform?"

Duke recoiled. " 'Course I can perform. Pretty damn well, too. It's just my. . uh. . condition."

"Does that make it dangerous when you. .?"

"Yes. Yeah, see when I get too excited. . things can get. . risky."

It was an outright lie. He didn't transform against his will. His monstrous form was all rage and fury, designed to stalk and kill. It had nothing at all to do with carnal relations, but lying to her seemed the easiest way to get himself out of an uncomfortable situation.

"That's alright, Duke. I understand. It's no big thing." She scowled at the eternal red splotch. It always came off easy enough but never took five minutes to return.

"Thanks, Hector," Earl said. "I'll look into it and call you back." He hung up the phone.

"Well?" Loretta asked.

"He had some ideas, but I have to check some stuff out before we can be sure." He tucked the notebook under his arm and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a little while. And, oh yeah, Duke. Hec said getting eaten alive definitely would'a killed you."

"Thanks for askin'."

"No problem."

Earl considered grabbing a quick snack before going to the cemetery, but a vampire could go a while between meals. He wasn't hungry enough for cow's blood tonight.

Cathy the ghost was waiting in the graveyard as he knew she would be. The cemetery guardian had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do but wait. She was sitting on her plot, looking bored. A wide grin spread across her face when she noticed him. She jumped to her feet and waved vigorously.

"Hey! You came back!"

Earl nodded while flipping through his notes.

"I wasn't sure you would."

"Just checking things out."

She glanced over his shoulder. "Cool. What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

"Thanks, but I can handle it."

Hector had suggested checking the easternmost tree first. The graveyard didn't have trees, only cacti, but Earl guessed that to be close enough. He knelt down and started digging.

"Is this still about the zombies?" Cathy asked.

"Yeah."

"What are you hoping to find?"

"Mojo bag."

"What's that?"

"It's kind'a hard to explain."

"Oh."

For a blessed few seconds, she stopped pestering him. Of course, her just being there was unsettling enough.

The ghost knelt beside him. "Can I ask you something?"

Earl sighed. "Yeah."

"What's it like being a vampire?"

He shrugged. "It's really not much different than being human."

"Oh."

She sounded disappointed. The reaction was typical. Most people expected more, but the truth was, with the exception of a few lifestyle changes, his existence hadn't changed much since joining the ranks of the undead.

"Are you really immortal?"

"I don't age."

"And what about mirrors? That's not true, is it?"

"It's true."

"Wow. So you can't see your reflection?"

"I can see my clothes. I just can't see me. It's sort of like the invisible man, 'cept only in mirrors."

She grinned. "Cool. Um, can I ask you something else?"

He stopped digging. "Yes, garlic bothers me. Yes, sunlight can kill me. No, crosses and holy water don't do jack shit. At least not to me. Yes, I can cross running water. No, a stake in the heart doesn't kill me, but it does keep me from moving around. Yes, having my head cut off or being roasted can kill me. Yes, I sleep during the day. Yes, I drink blood. No, I can enter without being invited. And yes, I can mesmerize people, though not very well. Does that cover it?"

"Uh. . yeah, I guess. I'm sorry. Am I bothering you?"

She certainly was, but much as he wanted to tell her to go away, he couldn't bring himself to. He had no idea how long she'd been here, how many years she'd been condemned to watch over this forsaken lot of dirt with only the dead to keep her company. And now, not even that. One way or another, he'd be leaving Rockwood soon, and Cathy would be alone again for a long stretch of eternity.

"Sorry. I'm just in a bad mood 'cuz I got stabbed earlier." The wound had already closed, but a twinge rippled through his side still, thanks to the traces of garlic on the spoon. "Go ahead. Ask me anything you want."

"So crosses don't really affect you?"

"Not me personally. I've met some others that were bothered by 'em, but I'm an atheist." He checked his hole in the dirt. "Guess it's not here."

"Why do you think it would be there?"

"It's gotta be the easternmost cactus."

"This isn't the easternmost cactus. It's that one over there."

Earl squinted where she pointed. He could've sworn this was east, but then again, his sense of direction had always been unreliable at best.

"Thanks."

Buried about a foot deep beside the real easternmost cactus, he found what he was looking for. It was a cheap purse filled with strange and exotic items. The bag was a black-magic fetish, the channel through which dark powers entered the cemetery. Now that it was dug up, there would be no more zombies coming from this particular graveyard.

"Oh that," Cathy said.

"You knew about this?"

"Sure. I saw the guy who buried it."

"What'd he look like?"

"I don't remember exactly. I was sitting by my grave at the time, and I didn't bother getting up to get a closer look. I think he was a kid. Maybe sixteen, seventeen years old."

"How long ago did he bury it?"

"A while. I don't know exactly. I've sort of lost my sense of time."

It was understandable. Ghosts were timeless beings.

"See you later."

"You're going. Already?"

"I found what I was looking for." He rattled the purse.

"Can't you stay just a little while longer?"

"I really shouldn't. I got stuff to do."

"Oh. Okay. Well, can I ask one last favor before you go? Can I touch you? I haven't touched anyone in years. Just a handshake."