Эллен Шрайбер - The Coffin Club

I got my compact out of my purse, opened it, and angled it behind me. I took a breath when my aunt tapped me on the shoulder. When I glanced into the reflection, Devon had already disappeared.

Aunt Libby and I spent the midnight hours curled up in our pajamas on the futon, as if at a slumber party, surrounded by rose-scented votives and lavender incense and talking incessantly about our gorgeous guys.

My aunt was giddy as she replayed every girlie thought and feeling she had.

“So where will you have your wedding?” I asked as we sipped on chamomile tea.

“I think it’s too early to scout locations,” she said with a laugh. “But I’ve always wanted to get married outside.”

Then I posed a perfect sleepover-type question. “How far would you go, to show your love for him?”

“Like would I move?” she asked.

That wasn’t what I had in mind. “Sure,” I said, playing along.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Would I have to work?”

“Uh…no,” I answered. My aunt was getting further away from the point of my playful interrogation.

“Would I be able to perform full-time?” she asked seriously.

“If that’s what you want.”

“Then I’d have to say yes!”

“Well, that doesn’t seem like much of a sacrifice,” I said. I thought for a moment, and then my eyes caught her TV. It reminded me of the local news report on crop circles I’d seen the other day. “What if he lived on another planet?”

“Like an alien?” she asked, then grinned.

“Yes,” I said. “Would you still go?”

Aunt Libby paused, really contemplating my question. I was growing weary as I waited for her answer.

“Is the planet environmentally sound?” she asked.

“This is a game, Aunt Libby!”

“I want to give truthful answers.”

“The planet is environmentally sound and it is illegal to eat meat.”

“Then I’d have to say, ‘I’m there.’”

“Now,” I said, building up steam to my point, “what if he was a vampire? Would you let him turn you?”

She paused. “Sure, why not?”

“That’s it? No thoughts? No asking about the Underworld? You’d have to drink blood and sleep in a coffin.”

“You told me not to analyze it. Besides, it’s just a game, remember? Now your turn,” she said, turning the tables on me. “How far would you go to prove your love to Alexander? Would you move?”

“Out of Dullsville? In a heartbeat. Besides, my mom wouldn’t be able to nag me to clean up my room.”

“Would you move to another planet for him?”

“Sure,” I began. “Then I really wouldn’t have to clean my room at all. My clothes would just float in space and I’d never have to pick them up.”

We both cracked up.

Then my aunt became serious. “If he was a vampire—would you let him turn you?”

The truth was Alexander was a vampire. This question was the most difficult to answer because I thought about it every day. There was no doubt I wanted to be bonded to Alexander for all eternity. But did I want everything else that went with it? If Alexander already rejected the world I’d be entering, how would we live in it together?

“Well, would you?” my aunt pressed.

I placed my tea mug on the coffee table next to the burning incense. “This was supposed to be about you and Devon!” I said. I sat back, cross-legged. “Have you been to his house?”

“Not yet. He says he’s not a good housekeeper.”

Hmmm, I thought. He could be covering up the fact he sleeps in a coffin.

“Is he a carnivore?”

“I just remembered—” She got up and returned with her hobo-style purse and fished inside it. “You’d asked if I had a picture of Devon,” she said, pulling out a digital camera.

She fiddled with a few buttons on the back. “I took this today,” she said, and showed me the picture display. It was a picture of Devon, handsomely grinning, outside the blown-glass figurine booth. “I would have taken more, but he hates to have his picture taken.”

I was surprised. I’d been so totally caught up in proving that Devon was a vampire, I’d stopped leaving room for any other conclusion.

“Here you are in the background,” she said, pointing. I appeared to be talking to myself. “Funny, Alexander got cut off. He was standing right next to you.”

Aunt Libby blew out all the candles, gave me a good-night squeeze, and headed off for bed.

Now that it was confirmed Devon was a normal mortal, I’d be able to sleep soundly, knowing the worst fate my aunt could suffer was a broken heart.

11

The Crop Circle

The following day Aunt Libby insisted I keep my evening date with Alexander, not only because “he is so handsome,” as she put it, but because she was overdue for a yoga workout. While my aunt was going to stretch her body and mind, I was going to spend the evening glued to Alexander. But I still had ages before sunset and I could either hang out in Aunt Libby’s apartment or go to Hipsterville’s library. I chose neither and opted for a little adventure.

A few miles across town lay a mysterious crop circle that needed to be investigated. Phoenix would be confronting Jagger there at sunset and I might get a hint of their conversation and be back in time for Alexander’s and my date.

At the very least, I was intrigued by the crop circles and had to know who or what was making them. Were they really signals for vampires? Why did Jagger have all the hoax material stashed in his apartment? I wondered what the circle looked like up close.

According to the directions I got online, the same number seven bus that had previously taken me to the manor house made its way even farther through town and stopped a mile away from Mr. Sears’s farm.

The RBI—Raven Bureau of Investigation—was back in business and on the hunt. Just in case of dangerous situations before me, I geared up with garlic powder, mace, and a flashlight borrowed from underneath Aunt Libby’s sink.

Dullsville had its share of graffiti, vandals, and trespassers but nothing as exciting as an all-out alien invasion. Besides, if aliens traveled a million light-years to earth, I’m sure they’d be bummed to find they’d arrived in the boring town of Dullsville, U.S.A. Hipsterville, on the other hand, might make a great pit stop on the way to New York or Paris.

But if my presumption was right and the boy on TV had seen hovering bats, the guy at the Dungeon bar was speaking fact, and Jagger’s mess was actually clues, the crop circles had the markings of a vampire.

Perhaps the farmer was selling tickets to his nine-acre backyard. I half expected the number seven to be transformed into a tour bus. But there was nothing unusual about the number seven or its riders, and when the bus lurched at the stop, I was the only one who disembarked.

The directions I had were pointing me to a single dirt road that separated luscious trees on one side from acres of wheat on the other.

I was in the middle of nowhere and the sun was already beginning to set over the farmhouse. When I explored the Mansion or the manor house, there were at least other houses within the sound of a scream.

I was as exhilarated as I was terrified as I hurried along the lonely dirt road.

This was a prime spot for an alien or vampire sighting. There was nothing around for miles.

All at once, I felt someone or something behind me. I held on to the flashlight with one hand and the mace with the other, the garlic powder inches away in my purse. I was confident I could talk myself out of a situation if I was confronted by the farmer or one of his neighbors, but I could see the latter was a remote possibility.