Richard Laymon - The Traveling Vampire Show

“Out to Janks Field,” I said. “Where’s Slim?”

“She went home.”

“Is she all right?”

“Fine. Except for, you know, the cuts.” He smiled at Lee. “Hi, Mrs. Thompson.”

“Hi, Rusty.”

“So what happened?” I asked.

“Nothing much.”

“You were supposed to wait for me.”

“Yeah, well. We did. And then we thought we heard you coming… a car, you know? You were supposed to come back with a car, so we figured it must be you. Only what came out of the woods was a hearse. Man, I nearly….” With a smile at Lee, he said, “It scared the heck out of us. I mean, a hearse? Give me a break. So we figured it wasn’t Dwight coming to the rescue.” Looking at me, he added, “Where would you get a hearse, right?” To Lee, he said, “Then a big black bus came out of the woods, and that’s when we figured it must be the Vampire Show. So we beat it. We jumped down behind the shack and ran into the woods.” He shrugged his meaty, freckled shoulders. “That’s about it. When we got back into town, we split up. Slim went to her place and I came here so I could tell you what’d happened.”

“What about the dog?” I asked.

“Last I saw of that little… mutt… it was running toward the hearse like a madman, barking its tail off.”

“So it didn’t chase you guys?”

He shook his head. “Nope. We got off scot-free.”

All my worries had been for nothing. That’s usually how it is with worrying. More often than not, we get ourselves all in a sweat over something that might happen, then everything turns out just fine.

“What about Slim’s cuts?” I asked. “Did they bleed much on the way home?”

“Nope. They were fine.”

“They didn’t reopen?”

“Huh-uh.”

From what he said, I might just as well have stayed on the roof with them. It would’ve saved a lot of wear and tear on my nerves.

“Where did our shirts end up?” I asked.

“Slim has ‘em. They’re ruined anyway. She wore ’em home.”

“Where’d her T-shirt end up?”

“Still on the ground, I guess. Did you see it when you were there?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t seen Slim’s T-shirt or any sign of the dog or the sneakers….

“Wait,” I said.

He suddenly looked worried.

“How’d you get your sneakers back?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“What’d you do, run halfway across Janks Field when the hearse and bus were already there and… ?”

“Heck no. We jumped off the back of the shack.”

“Then how’d you get your shoes?”

“My shoes?” He looked down at his sneakered feet. “Oh!” He gave out a laugh and shook his head as if relieved. “You thought I threw my shoes at the dog!”

“I saw you throw them.”

“Not my shoes. Those were Slim’s.”

“Slim’s shoes?”

“Sure.”

“Jeez, man. Why didn’t you throw your own?”

“It was her idea.”

“Real nice.”

“Don’t blame me, she tossed me hers and told me to throw ’em, so I did.”

“So then she had to go through the woods and all the way home barefoot?”

“No big deal. She was fine. Anyway, I offered her mine but she wouldn’t take ’em.”

“Not that they’d fit her anyway,” I said, a little annoyed.

I had sure misjudged Rusty, giving him credit for what turned out to be mostly Slim’s doing.

At least Rusty had done the throwing.

“Well,” said Lee, “glad you both made it out of there all right. We had our doubts.”

“We got out fine,” Rusty said, smiling and bobbing his head. “In fact,” he added, “Slim’s coming over here as soon as she’s gotten herself all bandaged and cleaned up.”

“Good deal,” said Lee. Then she turned to me. “I think I’ll head on home, now. When Slim gets here, why don’t the three of you talk things over and decide what to do about tonight?”

Rusty raised his eyebrows.

“Lee got us tickets for the show,” I explained.

“No shit?” he blurted. Then he quickly added, “Excuse me, Mrs. Thompson.”

“No problem, Rusty.”

“Just slipped out.”

“Tickets for all of us,” I explained.

“Oh, man, this is too cool.”

“I’ll hang on to the tickets,” Lee said, “and drive us out there tonight.”

“Oh, wow….”

“But you’ll have to work things out, yourselves, with your parents. Handle them however you want. I won’t tell on you, but I don’t want to have a hand in any deceptions you decide to use.”

“We’ll figure something,” I said.

“If we’re going,” Lee said, “we should probably leave from my place by about ten-thirty. We’ll want to get there early enough to beat the crowd—if there is a crowd. And find ourselves a parking place.”

“That’ll be great,” I said. “Your house by ten-thirty.”

“And you’re welcome to come over earlier. Always better not to wait till the last moment.”

“We’ll come over as early as we can make it,” I told her.

Then she nodded, said, “See you later then,” and headed for her truck.

Rusty and I watched her drive away.

“Your brother,” he said, “is one lucky son of a bitch.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Shit. What I wouldn’t give…” He shook his head and sighed.

“Well, we’re the ones going to the Vampire Show with her.”

“Yeah! Fantastic! She got four tickets?”

“Bought ’em,” I said. “They cost her forty bucks.”

“She forked over forty bucks?”

“Well, not cash. She used a check.”

“Do we have to pay her back?”

“She didn’t say anything about it. I think she’s treating us.”

“Wow!”

“It didn’t even matter that we’re underage. The guy knew it, but he didn’t care. Julian? He’s the owner. He’s the one we talked to when we went looking for you guys. He sort of warned Lee that it’s an adults only show….”

“What’d he say?”

“He said the show can be real gory. And clothes get ripped off.”

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah. But Lee didn’t seem to mind. She said she wanted the tickets anyway, so the guy went ahead and sold them to her. But only on the condition that she goes to the show with us. We can’t, like, go without her.”

“Ah. I bet he’s got the hots for her.”

“You know what else? If we stick around after the show, he’ll introduce us to Valeria.”

Rusty moaned almost as if in pain. “We get to meet her face to face?”

“If Julian keeps his word.”

“Ohhhhh, man. This is gonna be some night, huh?”

“I’ll say,” I said. “If we can go.”

“We’re going. Man, we’re going—I don’t care what.”

“Maybe I can finish mowing the lawn before Slim gets here.”

Rusty sat on the porch stairs of my house and watched me finish mowing the front lawn. Then he stood around while I did the back yard and both sides. I was sweaty and out of breath by the time I’d finished. He came with me when I put the mower away in the garage.

Just as we were leaving the garage, Mom drove up. She parked in the driveway and climbed out of her car. She was dressed in her tennis whites—a good clue as to where she’d been.

“I was afraid you’d given up on the yard,” she said.

“No. I just took a little break.”

“Hello, Russell.”

“Hi, Mrs. Thompson.”

“How’s everything?” she asked him.

“Just fine, thank you.”

After a quick glance around, she asked us, “Where’s d’ Artagnan?”