I knew it the first time she stopped me in the middle of the road, mid-back-up no less. She asked me, pointing towards my front step at Bon-Bon, if that cat was mine. “Is that cat yours?” She seemed tense. I didn’t answer the question at first, stuck as I was in reverse and confused by the question. So I said, “What?!” I will often answer a question with a question if I don’t know what to say. Then I took a good look at her. One front tooth was broken off at an angle, the other a decayed shade of blue, her right earlobe or what was left, was slit up the middle where I imagined an earring had been ripped out. She wore an imitation diamond stud just east of the slit and I could see patches of red underneath the pancake powder she tried to cover them with. To make matters worse I could practically hear her hair, scarecrow-esk as it was, crackling in the noon time sun. At one time or another her locks had been blonde, brunette and copper, mesmerizing really, exceedingly so if you took into account the half grown out perm. It reminded me of a misplaced halo. From neck to tippy toes though, she was a perfect size 4 an asset she flaunted with outfits any high school senior would be in awe of. But, her clock had ticked many minutes past forty long ago. Even still a steady stream of males buzzed her lot vibrating our quiet street with a deep thumping sound which seemed to originate in the trunk of their cars. I could hear it from what I assumed were blocks away and as it got closer I could feel it reverberating through the floor. When she crept out into the daylight that first time, I was surprised. She was new to the neighborhood, a tenant in suburbia. I’m told vampires can go outside if they slather on enough sunscreen, but still, is there ever enough?
She eventually told me her name which I promptly forgot and questioned me at length about my cat, who it seems, is the female version of hers. He has been off catting, as my mother would say, and now she couldn’t find him. A lot of cats had gone missing since she moved in and I couldn’t help but wonder quietly if she had been eating them, using her seeming concern for her own pet as a cover to distract us all. She said, and couldn’t stress more how much he looked like mine and could I keep an eye out for him. I would hear him before I saw him. His collar had a jingle bell. She told me his name, but I forgot that too. I got a creepy feeling and then blew it off because, who cares!
But I learned never to speak with creatures of the night as they soon come knocking asking to be granted entry into your home. They use excuses like can you help me fix such and such or I want to save this kitten. Once she actually stole my neighbors kitten and said she found it a better home after it disappeared. I never let her cross the threshold, but she soon noticed I was married and would wait until dusk when my husband arrived and run across the street to molest him, I mean greet him. She spoke in whispers, gesturing until her hand brushed his arm. She cackles and her gaze falls to the pavement. A full frontal assault with that grill is too much for any man to deal with even in muted light.
My good friend is her landlord and resides in the same building, nothing more than wood and plaster separates their bedrooms. She curses the day she let the vampire move in. She keeps questioning why. She says, “I thought she would be okay because she has a little boy, but every night, night after night I hear her having sex and she is loud, I mean loud. She does it when her son is there too and he is only 8. She is so loud I have moved my bedroom across the house and have had to pound on the walls to get her to shut up! And that music! I just don’t know what to do!”
“So, you’re saying she’s loud, I chimed in. I then took a moment to re-think my initial assessment of her, “does she howl?”, I asked in my coy way.
“Yeah you could call it howling!”, she snipped back, disgusted.
Then I thought maybe she was a werewolf, but she didn’t have the requisite hairy-ness, so I blew the idea off entirely.
My friend doesn’t know what to do and frankly, neither do I. Since I won’t grant her access to my place and since my husband moved out I rarely see her. If I do see her on the odd occasion out in the light, I stay indoors until the coast is clear, but still she is sucking my neighbor dry.
How does a person get rid of a vampire across the street?