STRANGER IN TOWN
Sammy had the world's worst crush on beautiful Gilda. Gilda Gallagher. Just repeating her name, like a mantra, gave him goose bumps. Sammy still dreamt of her becoming his girlfriend, even now that she was obsessively into the Goth look. If it was just a matter of wearing black, if that was all it would take to get noticed, he wouldn't mind compromising his taste in attire. But Gilda had gone over to the dark side. She was into all this weird freaky shit, like wearing Clown White theater makeup with dark circles around her eyes and black lipstick. She was the only Goth in their town, and the butt of many jokes, especially among the adult community. Gilda had even saved her allowance and had fangs custom-made to fit over her incisors. She wore them after school hours. Despite all of this, she couldn't downplay her looks. She wasn't currently dating anyone, so at least Sammy didn't have any rivals. But as long as she was going through what Sammy believed was a phase, she was unattainable. He talked to her every chance he got. She could often be found watching the school football coach, Coach Andrews, supervising the team's exercises. He was one of the few grown-ups who didn't lecture her about her appearance. Sometimes Sammy met her after practice and walked her home. Gilda lived with her spinster aunt, Miss Gallagher. Gilda's aunt always regretted not having married when she'd had the chance. She'd had many, many suitors in her youth, but had never made a choice. Now all she had for companionship, apart from Gilda, was her little dog Brittany . Even though Miss Gallagher was probably ancient, like around fifty, she had retained some of the looks that had made her the state's beauty queen many years before. Sammy figured Gilda would still be beautiful, too, when she grew old. He said as much. “I don't plan to grow old or lose my looks,” Gilda said. “I plan to become a vampire. Vampires have eternal youth and beauty. Besides, it's cool to be able to fly and I really like the way fangs look. It freaks people out.” “You don't really believe in vampires?” Sammy asked. “They're just fictional characters.” Gilda treated him to a mysterious little smile. “I've been reading up on vampires and I can tell you that they really do exist. I'm just hoping to eventually get bitten.” “You want me to believe that there are vampires in our town?” Sammy made a funny sound. “Don't you think my dad would know about it?” “Just because your father is the sheriff doesn't mean he knows everything. Vampires often don't kill; they just make vampires of those they bite.” Sammy decided to humor her. “I imagine if you're a vampire in a small town, there's a limit to the number of people you'll bite. After all, you don't want to create other vampires, because with such a limited number of victims, you've got too much competition.” Gilda gave him a look of disgust. “Sammy, use your brain. You've heard the expression, ‘Don't shit where you eat.” I think most vampires, unless they live in a big city, travel to other places, bite someone, then move on.” She paused for a moment to think, and then continued, “Maybe it's like drinking water not always tasting the same, so if you're a vampire and drinking blood in different locations, you have a varied diet.” Sammy just shook his head and managed to stifle his laughter. Gilda always got good grades in school, but the way she was talking made her sound like an airhead. It's just a phase, he told himself. Just a phase. All the same, he decided to read up on vampires, so he'd be able to impress Gilda with his knowledge. Sammy hunted around on the Internet and discovered that Gilda wasn't the only one taking the vampire myth seriously. He learned about organizations where you could only belong if you were a ‘true' vampire. There were different ways to become a vampire, but it seemed many of the guys believed that they could only find their vampire soul mate by converting an earth mortal to vampirism, but she would have to be a virgin for it to work. Both guys and girls believed that becoming a vampire meant you would never die and the girls had the additional perk of being young and beautiful forever. Surfing around, he was amazed to read firsthand reports of people who claimed to be hundreds of years old. *** Three things happened to decide Sammy to play a trick on Gilda. The first occurred when he noticed some hickeys on Gilda's neck. It made him crazed with jealousy. He couldn't help thinking it was some boy sucking on her neck, pretending to be a vampire. Hell, he could do that! But he'd rather kiss her. Just thinking about kissing Gilda made him even angrier, because whoever this guy was, he was probably getting to kiss her as well. All Sammy wanted was some kind of revenge. The second thing that happened was when he was helping his mother do the weekly shopping. They always went around nine PM on Fridays, because the supermarket was nearly deserted then. Sammy's mother wheeled the shopping cart around and loaded it up. While Sammy waited for his mom to go through the checkout with her groceries, he noticed a tall man pin a card to the notice board at the front of the store. He had to be a stranger in town, because most of the locals wore either suits or jeans with matching jackets. The tall man was dressed all in black, with a hat pulled down so low, the brim hid his features. His actions were furtive and he left the store quickly, appearing almost to glide out the door. Sammy approached the board and looked at the card. The print was in bold caps: ETERNAL YOUTH AND BEAUTY CAN BE YOURS. It listed a number to call. Sammy thought it was a long shot. It was probably just an ad for some new face cream, or for a plastic surgeon, but the wording was so similar to what Gilda had said, that he thought it just might be a coded message for vampire wannabes. And the guy had certainly looked strange. Sammy pocketed the card. At home, he dialed the number and a man with a peculiar accent answered. “I'm calling about your ad for eternal youth and beauty,” Sammy said. “You sound like a man.” “I'm a seventeen year-old guy,” Sammy said. “Oh. Vun of dose ,” the man said. There was disdain in his voice. “I'm sorry,” he said. His voice gave Sammy the creeps. “I only vant vimmen to have access to my, uh, service.” He abruptly hung up. Sammy convinced his nineteen year-old sister, Ellie, to call. After speaking to the man for less than a minute, she suddenly yelled, “Pervert!” and slammed the phone down. “That creep wanted to know if I was a virgin, and if I was, he wanted me to meet him at midnight at the Chesterton Arms and he'd make all my dreams come true,” she said. “Thanks a lot, Sammy. I don't know why you wanted me to call some dirty old man who tries to sound like Count Dracula. If you don't want me to rat you out to Mom and Dad, you'll have to do all my chores this week.” Damn! That meant he'd have to do the dishes and take out the garbage. Then Sammy realized that he had actually connected with some loony vampire aficionado and the glimmer of a plan took seed in his mind. The third thing that happened occurred the night after seeing the card. He usually stayed out late with his friends on Saturday nights. If he came home later than the set curfew, he'd have to sit through a long lecture from his father about crimes committed at night and how dangerous it was for teenagers to be out too late. Saturdays were Bridge nights, and regular as clockwork, his parents played against Grandma, who lived with them, and Doc Peters, who came to play. Everyone thought Sammy was long asleep in his bed when he sneaked back into the house. Tiptoeing past the kitchen, a fragment of conversation caused him to pause. “Virginity? Hmph! I think it's a foreign word to most young people nowadays. It was certainly different in our day,” his grandmother was saying. “Tell me about it,” Doc Peters replied. “I've delivered every baby born in this town over the past forty years. At one time or another, I've examined every soul living here and treated them for everything from hangnails to hemophilia. The only female in town above the age of 15 and still a virgin is Gilda.” “Oh, come now. Are you serious?” Sammy's father asked. “I was born into the wrong generation.” “George!” “Ow!” Sammy guessed his mother had thumped him. “I know what I've got in my records, and yes, I'm serious,” the doctor replied. Sammy heard a chair scrape back and then his mother said, “I'll make some more coffee and then we'll call it a night.” He hurried up the stairs to his room and fell quickly asleep, smiling, delighted to know that the girl he adored was still unsullied by any of his rivals. When he woke next morning, he had a plan to get some revenge on Gilda. *** Sammy had put the card in an envelope marked ‘Gilda Gallagher' and dropped it through the letterbox at Miss Gallagher's house. He knew Gilda wouldn't be able to resist phoning as soon as she read it and he figured an assignation would be made for midnight at the Chesterton Arms. The Chesterton Arms was only euphemistically called a hotel. In reality, it was a dump, the proverbial den of iniquity. Sammy planned to show up, find out what room Gilda was in, and wait outside it then rescue her from the crazy guy. His revenge would be in her realizing her foolishness for believing in vampires, and she would see him as a hero. Things didn't quite work out that way. *** The family was watching TV a few hours after dinner, when Sammy's father got a phone call. He came back into the room looking much shaken and turned off the TV. “I've got to meet with my deputies. It looks like this will be an all-nighter,” he announced. “It seems we've got a possible psycho in town. The guy's been spotted by one of my deputies, who recognized him from the FBI bulletin. “Ellie, Sammy, you're both staying in tonight. I don't want you leaving the house until he's apprehended. There's been a string of murdered women across the States. No one made the connection before, but now it seems it's all the work of one man.” No one said anything. Ellie, Sammy and their mother waited to hear more. “The guy's a weirdo, somehow lures women to his hotel room and then… you're not gonna believe this. He must have some kind of fake fangs like your Goth friend, Gilda, Sammy. Well, he bites them on the neck or in any case, puts puncture marks in their necks and then somehow drains their blood. We've found seven bodies so far, but there are probably more, because some women who've been reported missing may have also met with him. The gory details have been kept out of the press. Can you imagine the panic it would cause if this were made public?” So of course, Sammy had to tell everything to his father. “I can't believe you'd be so stupid! I can't believe Gilda could be so stupid! You stupid kids!” His father ranted on this way for several minutes, then once again, made Sammy give him all the details. It was nearly midnight, so all the sheriff could do was call for backup and in the meantime, took Sammy with him and headed for the Chesterton Arms. *** The desk clerk immediately recognized the sheriff and was all too quick to cooperate, knowing there were all kinds of illicit goings-on in the hotel and he could only hope that the entire building wouldn't be raided. Yes, a girl matching Gilda's description and an adult male were in room 308. He gave the sheriff a spare key. Back up hadn't yet arrived, so Sammy was deputized to help. Screams were coming from the room. Sammy recognized Gilda's voice. His father drew his gun, slowly turned the key in the lock, and then burst in. Gilda's legs were wrapped around a large, muscular adult man, but her screams of passion changed to yelps of surprise when Sammy and the sheriff threw the door open. She sat up and clutched a crumpled bed sheet to her body. Her makeup was smeared. Jeff Andrews, the football coach, rolled off the mattress and stood holding a pillow in front of his nether regions. His face was bright red. Sammy couldn't believe what he was seeing. Where was the psycho guy? “Gilda, what are you doing here?” Sammy shouted, his voice on the edge of hysteria. “I know what I'm doing here, but what the hell are you doing here,” she yelled back, both furious and embarrassed at the same time. Sammy's dad stepped in front of him. “Mr. Andrews! You're committing adultery and having sex with a minor. Only one of these offences is worthy of arrest, but I think the punishment you receive from your wife will be worse than any sentence the court throws at you.” He then put on his most serious cop voice, told Andrews he was under arrest, and began reciting his rights. He told both parties to get dressed and shooed Sammy out of the room. Backup arrived and took Gilda and Andrews away in a squad car. “Now we've got a real dilemma. Where is the weirdo in black?” Sammy's father asked. “Tell me again what you did with the card.” “I addressed it to Gilda Gallagher and put it through their letter box,” Sammy said. His father suddenly slapped his forehead. “Gilda? Of course! Gilda is named for her Aunt Gilda. Her aunt must have seen the card and thought it was addressed to her.” Sammy suddenly thought back to the night when he'd heard Doc Peters say, “The only female in town above the age of 15 and still a virgin is Gilda.” Of course, he must have been referring to Miss. Gallagher. He could just imagine Miss Gallagher seeing the card as a personal invitation -- “Eternal youth and beauty can be yours” – of course, she'd grasp at any straw. Back at the desk, they were told that yes, a woman answering Miss Gallagher's description and a tall man dressed in black were in room 507. *** The deputies were all brought up-to-date on the developments.It was all a joke, Sammy had said, but no one was laughing when Miss Gallagher went missing and miles away at a seedy motel, her dog Brittney was being held captive by a strange man dressed completely in black. “I don't know vere she is,” the man repeated with a Hollywood-style Transylvanian accent. “After I bit her, I zen let her drink my blood. I zen held her in front of ze mirror and she vatched herself grow young and beautiful again.” |