Date: Tue, 15 Oct 1996 08:06:11 MDT From: Robyn Meta Herrington Subject: SUB:CONTEST:"Them damn vampires" Remember, send your critiques to Me at rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca I'll pass them along to the authors. ALSO REMEMBER: October 15th is the last day to send me your Halloween submissions. Send 'em to ME, not to the list, and I'll post 'em anonymously. Robyn ------------------------------------------------------- Them Damn Vampires "Them damn vampires." Papaw had been grumbling the same thing over and over for so many years it had become a mantra. He called everyone a vampire - the feed store and hardware owners, gas companies, doctors and lawyers. Papaw had never actually been to a lawyer, but you get the idea. Anyone who charged more than Papaw thought was necessary for a service or product was a vampire. "Don't let folks take advantage of you, Sara, though every last one of 'em will try." Nowadays, however, the words had a somewhat different meaning for all of us. It could have been dangerous if anyone but me had heard him. They're pretty vindictive, I think. Seems like anyone who talked bad about them were the next to disappear. I guess we were really kinda lucky. Folks in Brown's Holler only had to contend with the "Residents", as we called them, a few times a year. Especially on Halloween, which was day after tomorrow. The whole area was gearing up to hide or buttering up anyone possible to save themselves. We had heard that people from "outside" had weekly and sometimes daily encounters. This is a bit suspect news, though, since it came from a Resident. The last person seen in the Holler actually from outside was a travelling salesman, hawking his "gen-u-ine, made-to-measure" leather shoes. He'd been misdirected about 50 miles up the interstate and had taken a wrong turn which brought him here. Poor man. He never left the Holler, of course. Nobody does. What happened was this. About 15 years ago, just before I was born, a strange family moved here. That in itself was unusual. People are born in Brown's Holler, live and die in the Holler, or leave and make real lives for themselves somewhere else. People don't move here on purpose. At any rate, this family was reclusive, rarely seen until dusk and then only from a distance. Eventually they came around - to Weaver's for tools, Miz Berry's Dry Goods for cloth or ready-mades. It was thought at first that they were a small family, but it must have been a mistake because there seemed to be a quite a number of them. You can tell, you know, because of the striking resemblance: long, slender, pale faces and hands, spare sinewy bodies and flat, dark eyes. As locals began slowly disappearing, Residents landed in positions of ownership and authority. Before long they were running the Holler like a tiny island nation cut off from the world. By now we had figured out why, and we were pretty obliging since anyone who disagreed with them just sorta disappeared. Ever since my mamma died while working in service to some Residents when I was about 7, Papaw has been my only family. Mamma died from a 'wasting sickness' as it was called. Folks say she 'took strange' and wasted away to her death. I never knew my daddy, or anything about him. Mamma used to say, "Except that you're standin' in front of me, Sara, you shouldn't even be here." I'm not sure exactly what that meant, but my questions were always met with mamma's "don't ask" stare, and silence. I try to mind what Papaw tells me because he has always had my best interests at heart. "Have I every steered you wrong, girl?" he would ask. "No, Papaw, not yet." I would reply with a smile, knowing that he would never give me bad advice, so the 'yet' was our little joke. I loved my Papaw with every fiber of my being and I know he loved me the same. We trusted each other totally, but had to admit we couldn't do the same for folks in the Holler. Even those we used to be so close to. You could wind up guilty by association if caught with someone who had a habit of bad-mouthing the Residents, and be the next local to disappear. "Keep away from 'em, Sara," is one of those directives it turned out hard to obey. You see, there was this boy of the Residents who is about a year older than me. I know boys are supposed to be handsome, but Rigan was - is - pretty. His hair is the color of shiny crow feathers, and waves back from his face. It's quite a shocking contrast to his icy blue eyes That's the most different thing about him, those eyes. They aren't flat and dark like the Residents'. They aren't the cornflower blue of my own, but lighter. Frosty, and pale like his skin, almost not there. Rigan came to the schoolroom for a few months lessons and that's where I first met him. I was wary at first, but when he came over to talk to me in his soft, soothing voice he seemed so nice. I didn't want Papaw to worry, so I just never said anything. It made it easier for me to see Rigan often, even sneaking out at night sometimes. I never lied to Papaw. All that was six months ago. ------------------------------- Today as Papaw and I ready for the expected Halloween onslaught, I try not to think of Rigan for fear I'll give myself away. I'm about to do something exciting...and a little frightening. Rigan asked me to meet him on Halloween night when we could spend more time together. I really think I'll be the safest person in the Holler, being that Rigan and I are very special friends. Of course no one knows that except Rigan and me...and Klaus. The head of the Residents is Klaus. That's it, just Klaus. I don't know if it's his first name or last name. That's what he's called. I met him one time when I sneaked out to see Rigan. We were walking in the orchard near the big old house where the top-dog Residents live. I don't know if it was just that I was so caught up in Rigan, or what, but one minute we were alone and the next there stood Klaus right in our path. He sat with us under a tree and the three of us talked a while, then Klaus and Rigan were talking about some business and I sort of fell asleep. When I woke up and realized how late it was getting I had to run to get back to the house before Papaw missed me. Usually as long as I'm in before dusk there is no problem. I don't want Papaw to worry. ----------------------- It's Halloween. I think it will turn out to be my favorite day even though the old trick-or-treating and scarey costumes aren't done anymore. It's a school holiday by decree of the Residents, and I've been able to spend almost all day with Rigan. Today as a special treat, Rigan took me to Residents Manor. Ok, it's a fancy name for a down at the heel old place, but almost no one gets to visit there. I felt like the queen of the ball, especially having wine for the first time with his Aunt Rhoe. It was a beautiful jewel-red color but was too sickly sweet for me. Kind of heavy, too, I think because it seemed to make me so sleepy. ---------------------- "Wake up, Sara." Rigan's mellow voice whispered next to my ear. "What? Uh, what time is it?" I mumbled. "Sara, wake up we have to talk, then you have to get home." "Dark?! Papaw will be going crazy. This is Halloween, Rigan, he'll think the worst. How could you let me sleep so long?" I was nearly flying to get my sweater on and get out the door. "Sara! Sara!" I could hear Rigan's voice calling me back, but I had to get to Papaw. Around me as I ran through the darkness I could hear faint screams coming from cabins spread here and there throughout the Holler. The tears started to flow as I thought of Papaw and how horrible I was to cause him such worry. He couldn't know I was alright. What if he decided to go out in the night and hunt for me. He would be in mortal danger, all because of my foolishness. Something large and dark flew over, knocking me to my knees. I didn't look after it as it passed. I didn't want to know what - or who - it was. "I'm coming, Papaw, I'm coming," I breathed to myself as I scrambled back to my feet and ran on. The dark was soft and enveloping. No one was on the streets. I had never been out after dark before, especially on Halloween. No one went out after dark on Halloween - and lived to tell it. Finally I saw our house, and the yellow-orange glow of the lamp through the parlor window. "I'm coming, Papaw," I yelled, "I'm coming." Somehow despite the distance I had run, I was not dropping from exhaustion. In my worry for Papaw I hadn't had time to think of my physical state. Pushing through the front door into the narrow, dimly lit hallway I slowed and stopped in the total silence. The house sounded deserted, abandoned. I took a step left to hang my sweater on the hall tree and froze. Facing me was something from a nightmare. Red-rimmed, flat dark eyes - narrow pale face and gleaming, sharp white teeth. The look on the horrible face was pure hunger. "Sara, honey, is that you?" Papaw called from the parlor. "I'm coming, Papaw. I'm coming," I replied, as I turned away from the mirror. ============================================================== -- -------+++++++-------+++++++ +++++++-------+++++++------- Robyn Herrington Operations Manager, Microforms Services University of Calgary, MacKimmie Library Ph: (403)220-6903 http://www.ucalgary.ca/~rmherrin rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca -------+++++++-------+++++++--------------+++++++-------+++++++-------