Michael Ford - Jane Goes Batty

“Is Miriam dead?” asked Jane. “I thought she was just knocked out.”

“She is,” Doris said. “But she’ll be dead soon enough. Then I can lay claim to having destroyed one of the greatest vampire hunters of all time.”

“About that,” said Jane. “How exactly did Miriam come to be a hunter?”

As Doris started to answer, Ted sprang from his chair. Only then did Jane notice that while they had been talking Lilith had snuck in and chewed through the ropes tying his hands. Now she ran at Doris’s ankles, growling and biting them as Doris danced from foot to foot in an attempt at kicking her. Ted grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms to her sides.

“Now what?” he shouted.

“Knock her out!” Jane yelled.

“Break her neck!” said Charlotte.

“Lock her in the closet!” Byron suggested.

Ted opted to follow Byron’s advice. With Lilith still clawing at Doris’s ankles, Ted dragged her to the hall closet, opened the door, and pushed her inside. He then placed the chair from which he’d escaped against the doorknob, making it impossible for Doris to open it. She pounded on it from the other side, cursing him and the dog.

“Now untie us,” Jane said when Ted returned. “And keep away from Charlotte.”

Ted worked on the ropes. “Is she really Charlotte Brontë?” he asked Jane as he undid the knots.

“She is,” said Jane, rubbing her wrists where the rope had scraped them raw.

“And are you really …”

Jane nodded. “I am,” she said.

Ted looked at Byron. “I suppose you’re not just an English professor, are you?”

“I’ll give you a clue—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. He’s Lord Byron,” Charlotte said.

“Did I say you could out me, Charlotte?” said Byron. “I don’t recall going around telling everyone who you are.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Charlotte shot back. “Not after what you did to me and our child.”

“I tried to save—”

“Enough!” Jane barked. “We have to figure out what we’re going to do.” She looked at Miriam’s still figure. “No one is killing Walter’s mother,” she said. “Even if it would make things easier for some of us.” Turning to Charlotte, she said, “And although the idea of you spending eternity in jail is indeed amusing, you didn’t kill Jessica and I see no reason why you should pay for that crime.”

“I should say not,” said Charlotte.

“Right, then,” Jane said. “Let’s make a deal. We’ll let you go. In return, you must promise to bother us no more. Also, you will take Doris with you. You created her; you deal with her. Are those acceptable terms?”

Charlotte chewed on her lip. Jane could see she was struggling with her answer. Finally she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “They’re acceptable.”

“Untie her,” Jane told Byron.

“What are you going to do with Doris?” Byron asked Charlotte as he loosened her bonds.

“I have a few ideas,” Charlotte said darkly. “I don’t think she’ll be pleased about any of them.”

She stood up. Facing Jane, she said, “I won’t thank you, as you’ve done nothing I couldn’t have done myself had I tried. However, I will say you’ve comported yourself admirably.”

Jane nodded. “And I won’t say you’re an evil genius, but I will say you make a very fine moorhen.”

“Bite me,” Charlotte said, swirling around and storming out. They heard the closet door open, then squeals of protest as Charlotte dragged a gibbering Doris down the hall. There was a slam as the front door opened and closed.

“Now what to do with Mother Ellenberg,” said Byron.

Jane looked down at Walter’s mother. Her chest rose and fell steadily, and the blood on her forehead had dried. “Leave her to me,” Jane said. “I think I know just what to do with her.”

“Where am I?”

Jane turned down the volume on the television. “You’re in my guest room,” she told Miriam. “We’re watching Shrek. ”

Miriam looked around. She put her hand to her forehead and winced. “What have you done to me?”

“It’s not what I’ve done, it’s what your friend Beverly did. Although her name isn’t really Beverly and she murdered Jessica Abernathy. But I have a feeling Our Gloomy Friend has taken care of her.”

“Who’s Our Gloomy Friend?” asked Miriam.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jane told her. “What matters is that I saved your life.”

Miriam snorted. “Unlikely,” she said. “Your kind thinks of no one but themselves.”

“And what might my kind be?” Jane asked her.

“Vampires,” said Miriam. She spat the word out as if it were a piece of spoiled fruit. “Bloodsuckers.”

“And just how many of us have you actually known?”

“Enough to know what vile creatures you are,” said Miriam.

“At least you didn’t try to tell me that some of your best friends are vampires and that you only kill the bad ones,” said Jane. “That’s a point in your favor. If you’re going to be racist, you might as well go all the way.”

“I’m not racist!” Miriam said.

“Oh?” said Jane. “You want to kill me just because I’m a vampire. What would you call that?”

“Being sensible,” Miriam said.

“You know, I could have just left you on the floor in Walter’s living room,” said Jane. “Doris wanted to kill you. So did Charlotte. But we told them no.”

“Doris?” said Miriam. “Who’s Doris?”

“I’m sorry,” Jane said. “That’s Beverly’s real name. Anyway, the point is, you’re not dead, and that’s because of me. So the way I see it, you owe me.”

“Owe you?” said Miriam. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“I think you do,” Jane said. “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m not going to tell Walter that you tried to kill me, and you’re not going to tell Walter that I’m a vampire.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because I love your son and he loves me,” Jane said. “It’s as simple as that.”

“My son couldn’t love a vampire,” said Miriam.

“Well, he does,” Jane told her. “And you’re just going to have to accept it. Times are changing, Miriam. This isn’t the eighteenth century. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Miriam said nothing. She just lay back against the pillows and looked at the television set. Jane had paused the movie just as Shrek was getting ready to kiss Fiona, whose true form had been revealed to be that of an ogre.

“This is a good part,” Miriam said. “Turn it on.”

Jane hit the play button and the film resumed. She and Miriam watched for the next ten minutes without speaking. Then the credits came on and Jane turned the DVD player off.

“Maybe you’re not so bad,” said Miriam. “But I have a condition.”

“What condition?” Jane asked, afraid of what was coming next.

“You have to give me a grandbaby,” said Miriam.

“A grandbaby?” Jane said.

“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl,” Miriam said. “As long as it’s healthy. Can you have babies?”

Jane scratched her head. “I really don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never tried.”

“No baby, no deal,” said Miriam. “As far as I’m concerned, until there’s a baby you’re fair game. But give me a grandchild and we’ll see what we can do. We have to put a time limit on it, though. I’m not getting any younger. Let’s say a year.”

“A year,” Jane repeated.

“A year,” said Miriam, nodding. “If within a year you get pregnant and it looks like things are going fine, I won’t say anything to Walter. If not …” She made a motion as if driving a stake through Jane’s heart.