Richard Laymon - The Traveling Vampire Show

“That still leaves us a ticket short,” Slim pointed out.

Rusty patted the air some more. “That’s why we go now. We get there good and early, find us an adult and pay him to buy us one more ticket.”

“What’ll we use for money?” I asked.

“How much we need?” Bitsy asked.

“The tickets are normally ten bucks,” Rusty said, “but we might have to pay more. Fifteen or twenty, maybe.”

“I got more’n thirty,” Bitsy said.

I remembered her white patent leather purse. She didn’t have it now. When we first came into Lee’s house, she must’ve left it in Slim’s car.

Rusty frowned as if he couldn’t figure out how his little sister had gotten her hands on that much money. But he played it smart this time and kept his mouth shut.

“Great!” he said. “We’re in business.” He glanced at Slim, then at me. “Okay?”

“Might work,” Slim said.

“Worth a try,” I said.

Narrowing her eyes, Bitsy looked at her brother. “What if we can’t get another ticket?”

Rusty stared at her for a long time, then said, “That happens, you can have mine.”

In the kitchen, I handed three of the tickets to Slim and left the fourth ticket on the table beside Lee’s purse. Slim slipped them down a seat pocket of her cut-off jeans.

I found a pen and a pad of scratch paper by the phone. Back at the table, I wrote:

Dear Lee,

Sorry we missed you. We took three of the tickets and went on ahead. We figured we had better get there early and beat the crowd, as the parking has been known to get wierd.

We took Slim’s Pontiac. Please come as early as you can. We well be looking for you and save you a seat.

I showed the note to Slim. She read it to herself, then asked, “Who ever taught you how to spell?”

“What’s wrong with my spelling?”

“Aside from it stinks?”

Rusty chuckled.

“Like you’re some kinda whiz kid,” I said to him.

“Let me see,” Bitsy said, and plucked the note from Slim’s hand. Her head bobbed up and down as she silently mouthed the words. About the time she came to the end, her brow furrowed.

“She’s my sister-in-law,” I explained.

Bitsy said, “I know that,” but she looked relieved.

After she gave the note to me, I folded it and placed it beside the red ticket. “All set,” I said.

“You don’t want to correct the spelling?” Slim asked, a glint in her eyes.

“Not really.”

“Lee’s a teacher.”

“I know that,” I said, suddenly sounding like Rusty or Bitsy.

Rusty let out a laugh. To Slim, he said, “Dwighty’s hoping to get some private spelling lessons from her.”

“Very funny,” I said. “Are we going?”

“Let’s go,” Slim said.

In the living room, she picked up her bow and her quiver of arrows. Then we left the house. Hanging back, I shut the main door after I was out.

We crossed the lawn to Slim’s car. When we got there, she put her bow and quiver of arrows into the trunk. Then we all climbed into the car. I sat in the back seat with Bitsy. Slim drove. Within about a minute, we were out on Route 3 with woods on both sides and no other cars in sight.

“What I think we’ll do,” she said, “is walk in.”

“Huh?” Rusty said.

“Walk?” asked Bitsy.

“I’m not driving onto Janks Field,” Slim said. “For one thing, I don’t want the tires getting ruined. For another, we might be the only car there this early. We’re too young to be going at all, so we sure don’t want the whole crew watching us arrive.”

“Good point,” I said.

“Also, the place’ll probably end up jammed with cars later on. We don’t want to get stuck in the traffic.”

“Hey,” Rusty said, “maybe they’ll have a riot like that other time.” He sounded as if he hoped so and wouldn’t mind participating.

“If there is a riot,” Slim said, “we can just take off into the woods free and clear.”

“Are we gonna have to walk through the woods?” Bitsy asked.

“Just if there’s a riot,” I explained.

“Or if we get chased by vampires,” Rusty added.

“Quit it,” Bitsy said.

“What we’ll do,” Slim said, “is park along the highway and walk in on the dirt road.”

Bitsy moaned.

“You wanted to come,” Rusty reminded her.

“I know that.”

“You don’t have to,” I told her. “We’ve still got plenty of time. We could drop you off….”

“I wanta come with.”

“That’s fine,” Slim said. “The thing is, Bitsy, we might see some really bad stuff happen. I sure did. What they did to that dog… These are bad people.”

“You’re just trying to talk me out of it.”

“No, I’m trying to warn you. You might end up wishing you’d stayed home.”

“So how come you’re going?” Asking that, she sounded a little snotty.

“Slim’s the judge,” Rusty said.

“Huh?”

“Dwight and I, we’ve got a bet going.”

“What bet?” Bitsy asked.

“I say Valeria’s a babe.”

“Who’s she?”

“The star of the show,” I explained.

“Dwight says she’ll be a loser, but I happen to know she’ll be gorgeous. If I’m right, Dwight has to shave his head.”

“Slim shaves my head,” I reminded him.

“Oh, yeah, right. Anyways, Slim’s the judge.”

“That isn’t why I’m going,” Slim said. Turning her head to the left, she said, “There’s the way in.” She started to slow down. “We’ll turn around… ,” she muttered.

“Then why?” Bitsy asked.

“Huh?”

“How come you wanta go if it’s gonna be so horrible?”

“Gotta watch out for my guys,” she said. Slowing almost to a stop, she made a U-tum. “Anyway, my mom’s away for the night and I didn’t much want to stay by myself.”

“Especially since she had a prowler today,” Rusty added, and glanced back at his sister.

“I said I was sorry,” Bitsy muttered.

“Here’s the turnoff,” Slim announced.

As she drove slowly past it, I glimpsed a couple of Traveling Vampire Show handbills and the makeshift cardboard sign on trees near the narrow dirt road. They were dim shapes in the darkness. If I hadn’t already seen them a couple of times in daylight, I wouldn’t have known what they were.

I thought, Nobody’ll be able to find the place.

Then I realized it was a stupid thought. Everyone for miles around knew the location of Janks Field. Almost everyone avoided it whenever possible, but hardly anyone would have trouble getting there, even in the dark.

Slim eased her Pontiac off the road. We dipped down into a shallow ditch, then climbed out of it and rolled through some deep grass.

“What’re you doing?” Rusty asked.

“Parking,” Slim said.

The car shook as she steered it over the rough ground. Bushes squeaked against the sides. Fallen twigs crackled under the tires. But not for long.

Slim stopped the car behind some trees, killed its headlights and shut off the engine.

“Jeez,” Rusty said.

“We don’t want everybody seeing our car.”

By “everybody,” I’m sure Slim meant more than just people wishing to do us harm. She also meant any residents of Grandville who might drive by—either on their way to the show or going elsewhere. Because if anyone should see the huge old Pontiac, word would get around. Soon, everyone in town—including our parents—would know that Slim’s car had been spotted out near the Janks Field turnoff the night of the Traveling Vampire Show.

The night of my dad’s car accident.

The night Slim’s mom had her overnight date on the river.