Richard Laymon - The Traveling Vampire Show

“They was… already busted. I just… I took the flowers, that’s all… They looked so… they was on the floor like… like nobody wanted ’em and they got thrown down… and they looked so sad.”

Looking perplexed, Slim said, “But you didn’t break any glass?”

Bitsy shook her head.

Then Slim laid off the questions for a while and I patted Bitsy until she calmed down. When she was done crying, Slim asked, “So what happened after you picked up the roses?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing else at my house?”

“Huh-uh.”

“So you left my house, and then what?”

Lowering her head, she muttered, “I guess I went and gave a rose to Dwight.”

“You went over to his house and sneaked in?”

She nodded slightly.

“What time was that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Wasn’t my mom home?”

Again, the small nodding motion. Then the soft voice murmured, “I guess so.”

“You snuck around in my house while my mother was there?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeez.”

Rusty looked pleased with himself. “Told you she’s a psycho.”

“I didn’t hurt nothing,” Bitsy said.

“What did you do in Dwight’s house?” Slim asked.

“Nothing. Just gave him the flower, that’s all.”

“You put it on my bed,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Good God,” I muttered.

“What else did you do?” Slim asked.

The way Bitsy’s face suddenly flushed crimson, I wished Slim had kept the question to herself.

“Nothing,” Bitsy said.

“Oooo, boy,” Rusty muttered.

“What did you do?” Slim asked again.

Once too many times.

Bitsy’s head jerked up and she snapped at Slim, “Nothing! I didn’t do nothing! You can go to hell! You can all go to hell!” Then she leaped up and ran for the foyer.

For a moment, the three of us were too stunned to move or speak. Then Rusty yelped, “Shit!”

Slim called, “Bitsy, wait.”

From where I was sitting on the sofa, I could see the girl hustle toward the front door. “Bitsy!” I yelled.

Then Rusty pounded by.

“Good God,” Slim said. She sprang up, dropping her bow to the carpet and struggling to pull off her quiver.

I leaped up and went after Rusty.

“Stop or I’m gonna cream you!” he shouted.

His sister flung open the screen door and ran outside. The door, starting to swing shut, bounced off Rusty as he charged through.

“Rusty!” I yelled. Hot on his heels, I swept the closing door out of my way, rushed across the stoop and leaped down the stairs.

Bitsy was chugging across Lee’s front yard, short hair bouncing, skirt flapping behind her, Rusty closing in. Though he was large and clumsy and slow, his little sister was slower.

“Rusty!” I shouted. “Let her go!”

He reached out and grabbed a shoulder of her sleeveless sundress. “Gotcha!”

They matched strides, linked by his arm.

“Let go!” I yelled at him.

“Stop!” he yelled at her.

He didn’t let go. She didn’t stop.

I reached out and grabbed the back of Rusty’s shirt collar. I was about to give it a sharp tug when Bitsy suddenly let out a squeal.

Rusty’s body blocked my view of her. When I saw her again, she was careening sideways out of control. Rusty must’ve jerked her shoulder.

I heard Slim yell, “Jesus!”

Letting go of Rusty and trying to slow down, I twisted my head around and caught a glimpse of Bitsy spinning like a frenzied figure skater. Her arms were flung out Her skirt was twirling high.

I lost track of her for a moment as Rusty and I nearly collided.

By the time I saw her again, she must’ve just crashed to the ground. She tumbled wildly, flipping over a couple of times, and came to rest on her back.

We hurried toward her.

She was gasping for air. Her arms and legs were spread out as if she hoped to make snow angels in August The top of her sundress, buttons ripped open down to her belly, was hanging off one shoulder and showing her bare right breast. Her skirt had gotten shoved up so it covered nothing below her waist. I thought at first that she was wearing some sort of tight, skin-colored underwear. Just as I realized my mistake, Slim crouched beside her, blocking my view. She shut Bitsy’s dress top and lowered the skirt just before Rusty and I got there.

Rusty scowled down at her. “Y’okay?” he asked.

She just kept gasping.

“It’s your own stupid fault,” he said. “I told you to stop.”

In a gentle voice, Slim said to Bitsy, “There was no reason to run away.”

“Yeah,” Rusty said. “We weren’t gonna hurt you.”

I glared at him. “Why’d you have to throw her down?”

“All I wanted to do was make her stop running away. She wasn’t supposed to get hurt.”

“Fucker.”

It wasn’t a very nice thing for Bitsy to call her brother, but I was glad to hear it. For one thing, I felt the same way. For another, I didn’t think she’d be making cracks like that if she had sustained any really serious damage.

Rusty scowled down at her for a while, then said, “Look, you weren’t supposed to get hurt. Okay? I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

“Like fun,” Bitsy muttered.

“Why don’t we get you off the ground?” Slim said to her. “We can go back inside and see if you need to be patched up. I happen to know Lee has a medicine cabinet full of first aid supplies.”

“No,” Bitsy said. “I don’t wanta.”

“I know,” said Rusty. “You wanta go to the movies.”

She shook her head. “I wanta go home.”

Go home?” Rusty said. “No way.”

“Wanta bet?” Using one hand to hold the top of her dress shut, Bitsy shoved at the ground with her other hand and managed to sit up.

“I’ll drive you home,” Slim said. “But you don’t want your mom and dad to see you looking like this. Let’s go in the house first, and….”

“Huh-uh. I wanta go home. Right now.”

Rusty looked pitiful. “Man, it’s gonna be my ass.”

“Should’ve thought of that,” I said, “before you threw her down.”

“It was an accident. Anyway, if you hadn’t grabbed my shirt…”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault.”

With Slim holding her steady, Bitsy rose to her feet. “Let’s go in the house,” Slim said.

“I don’t wanta.” She tried to pull away, but Slim held on.

“You’re not going home looking like this,” Slim said, her voice firm. “We’ll clean you up first and see if you’ve got any injuries. Then we’ll do something about your dress. Then I’ll take you home. Maybe.”

I almost applauded.

Hobbling toward the front door in Slim’s custody, Bitsy started to cry again.

Rusty and I stayed back. By the time we entered the front door, they were out of sight. Soon, we heard water running.

Rusty shook his head. “I’m really gonna get it,” he muttered. “They’ll ground me so long I’ll be gray before they let me outa the house.”

“You should’ve kept your hands off her,” I said.

“She was trying to get away. She was gonna run home. It would’ve wrecked everything.”

Slim came striding into the foyer.

“How is she?” I asked.

“Really upset. I mean, God.” Slim shook her head. “At least she’s not hurt.”

“She’s not?” Rusty asked. He seemed surprised and pleased.

“Not much. Mostly, she’s grass-stained. She has a few little scrapes and scratches, but that’s about it. I told her to wash up.”

“How about her dress?” Rusty asked.