Adam Rex: Fat Vampire: A Never Coming of Age Story

"But do you see why I might think it?" asked Sejal.

"I don’t know… a vampire ?"

"I thought you believed in the vampires."

"I…kind of believe in them when they’re on TV, but we’re talking about Doug."

"Okay, fine."

"I mean, I know he’s changed this year, but—"

"I was probably just hopped up on Niravam. Is that right? ‘Hopped up’?"

"It’s awesome, if you’re trying to sound like my dad."

"I got rid of it. The Niravam. I flushed it. I’m sorry."

The doorbell rang, followed immediately by four crisp knocks. Cat pushed up to her feet and scrambled out of the room, down the stairs. In distant tones Sejal heard Mrs. Brown bluster, and Cat say, "I told you, never answer the door!"

Sejal returned to her math and kept her head down for half a minute before she heard a faint cry, from Cat she thought, as if some little terror had just been squeezed out of her. Sejal rose and ran to the top of the stairs. There were police officers by the front door. Just like from the American cop shows.

" How? " said Cat to the officers. She had her arms folded tight into her chest, her fists pressed up against her chin. "Is he going to be okay?" Mrs. Brown put her arm around Cat, and Cat leaned into it. Mr. Brown appeared now from the living room.

"They’re telling them about Jay," said Doug, behind her. Sejal flinched, turned. He was there in the hallway. She opened her mouth to scream. "Don’t scream," said Doug. "You already screamed, and they didn’t come. They’re too busy with their own stuff."

Sejal nodded. She had already screamed and they didn’t come. Had she?

"Don’t make any noise," said Doug. He was curling his arm around her, cutting her off from the staircase. Downstairs voices were rising. Cat was upset, Mr. Brown asked someone, "Just what are you implying? That my daughter is hopped up on drugs?" Sejal ducked Doug’s arm and rushed back into the bedroom. She fumbled with her book bag, with the flimsy loops of the plastic shopping bag inside. Everything had the tarnished tunnel vision of old films and nightmares. Finally she produced a clove of garlic and a pocket Bible that someone had handed her on South Street. She had also been handed three nightclub flyers and an ad for carpet cleaning before she’d learned to keep her hands at her sides, but at least she’d gotten the Bible. The contents of her little bag had seemed embarrassingly crackpot only moments ago, but now she brandished them like they were the chakra of Vishnu.

Doug was in the doorway. When he came near, she got a foggy feeling, a feeling she was certain now that she’d had before.

"What are you holding those for?" asked Doug. "Here." He approached, and Sejal backed right up to the wall, pressing against it until the pushpins dug into her shoulder blades. Doug took the Bible, and she dropped the garlic.

"Come sit on the bed," he said.

"What did you do to Jay?"

Doug looked horrified. "How can…It’s what Victor did to Jay. And now I have to settle things with Victor. Then I can be a better person, like you said. But first…I have to do one more bad thing." He took hold of her wrist.

"It does not work like that," Sejal shuddered, and she thought, Victor, too? "You have to be it all the time. You have to be it for yourself and no worries about the other fucking people."

Doug winced. "I don’t like it when you swear."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Doug reached for her other wrist.

Sejal threw her fist forward and punched him in the face. Not a slap — a real punch. The pain of it creased her knuckles and jolted up her arm. It didn’t seem to make much of an impression on Doug, and in a moment he had both of her wrists pinned against the wall.

Now the fog really rolled in. She could feel her breathing grow shallow, and all sounds faded away. Doug was still talking to her. Doug, or someone who looked like Doug. Close. A little blurry. She could feel his breath, which seemed to her an impressive detail since she knew none of this was real. She nearly laughed because vampires were only real on television.

The person who looked like Doug was still talking. Trying to explain something. And now look. He’s crying. That’s hard to watch. I’ll close my eyes.

The darkness was absolute. But then the hot breath faded away.

Cat was shaking her awake.

"You look like Cat," Sejal slurred, and tried to get up from the floor.

"What the hell?" said Cat. "Why were you sleeping like that? Didn’t you hear us?"

Sejal stared at her, confused. Cat had been crying. It reminded her of Doug. Doug had been here.

Cat crossed behind her and closed the window. "Jay’s been attacked, but they think he’s going to be all right. They think me and Abby and Jay are all part of some goth cult or something because we all wear black and Abby’s anorexic or whatever. Asswipes. You know who else wears black? Fuckin’ asswipe cops — they wear black. Ooh, they’re a danger to society, they—"

Cat burst into tears again and sat down on the bed. "I’m sorry," said Sejal, and she sat beside her. "I’m sorry."

As she held Cat she remembered Doug. And someone else…an older man…and Clark Park. She couldn’t recall much of what either had said. One thing she was sure of — Doug had come here for something, and he hadn’t taken it. He’d changed his mind.

Well, she still thought he was a vampire. There was a way she could check. She’d thought of it before.

By the time Cat finished crying, Sejal had something like a plan.

She silently cursed herself for taking Cat’s key ring, especially when her friend was in such a state. But she remembered how Cat had looked at her earlier when the subject of vampires came up, and she knew this was just something she was going to have to prove to herself. She was tired of feeling fresh off the boat.

The nice thing about her new wardrobe, she thought, was that it was good for sneaking. In her black velvet dress, she was like a frilly ninja.

Before she could do whatever it was she expected to do tonight she would need to know where she was going. She thought again of her lost (no, disowned ) suitcase and whispered a prayer that Ganesha, Lord of Beginnings and Remover of Obstacles, might keep the Browns’ geriatric internet connection free and clear long enough for a web search and a set of directions. Despite her many faults. Despite her leaving him at the airport. And then, once the directions were secured and silently copied, she considered asking for a fresh obstacle — a browser crash, a frozen cursor, some prudent rockslide to cut her off from the World Wide Everything. But, no — she’d had enough favors lately.

If she ever saw her Ganesha figurine again, Sejal thought they might have a little talk. It could be that she was willing to manage her own obstacles for a while.

She did send one email. A much overdue one to her parents: amma and bapa,i am sorry i have not written for a few days. i am sorry this will be so short. i promise to write again soon and tell you everything. my studies go well. rehearsals go well. cat is a great friend, and i am trying to be a help to auntie and uncle brown. i continue to enjoy america, but could do without the vampires.much love,

sejalp.s. can you believe I’m writing on a pentium II? did these people rob a museum?

Then she took a breath and turned the computer off.

Now she crept out of the dark house with Cat’s key ring, and approached the older of the Brown family cars. She eased into the driver’s seat and closed the door as quietly as she could. She barely knew how to drive. The steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car. This would be interesting.

She shifted into neutral and let the sedan slide down toward the street, and flinched against her seat belt when she felt the rear tires sink into soft grass. The Brown mailbox passed inches from the passenger side like a dark sentry and set her heart pounding.