Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Vampire Summer ❯ Jonathan ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

 
 
We sat in the only fast-food restaurant in the little town near our lake, me, Crystal, and the vampire. Johnny watched us eat, elbows on the little plastic booth table, looking every bit the teenage boy except for the fact that he didn't have a burger or fries in front of him. He didn't bother pretending in front of us. We both knew what he was.
 
You couldn't tell he was a vampire just by looking at him. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, sneakers without socks, and his latest acquisition was a blue baseball cap with an embroidered white B on the front. I couldn't help but wonder where he had gotten it. I didn't think he bought it. He had left me alone for several days now, and since Mary and her kids were gone, I wondered where he got his blood from. The news hadn't reported any mysterious disappearances or strange deaths in our area lately. It made me wonder where he had been getting his blood before we came along.
 
Johnny enjoyed riding in my car. He sat up front with me while Crystal rode in back on our trips to the grocery store, the one department store in town, and to the burger place. We had to do these things at night now, so that Johnny could go along. Sam hadn't picked up Crystal for his weekend last Friday. He was still mad at me for letting Johnny hang around, I guess, and he took it out on his daughter. Maybe she was better off here with me and the vampire.
 
What was I thinking?
 
“Can you have anything to drink?” I asked him, curious as to the extent of his dietary restrictions. I'd spring for a Coke just to watch him drink it.
 
Crystal rolled her eyes at me. “Mom,” she said in that exasperated voice that tried to imitate me as the adult. “I told you, he's a vampire.” She went back to drawing on the back of her paper placemat.
 
Johnny just smiled and shook his head. I think he was answering my question and not reacting to Crystal's comment. He knew he was a vampire.
 
“I just was wondering,” I said, watching Johnny. “Have you had anything to eat—or drink—lately?” I probably shouldn't have asked him that. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, or tempt fate by drawing his attention back to me.
 
He straightened up in the booth, a small grin fighting to emerge on his face. “I already ate,” he said. “I'm not hungry now.” The grin finally won. “I'll let you know if I get hungry—or thirsty—later on.”
 
Crystal stopped drawing and looked up at Johnny curiously. “I thought you only drank blood,” she said.
 
“I do,” Johnny answered her, still smiling.
 
“Is it good?”
 
“Oh, yes.”
 
I glanced around to see if anybody had overheard, but nobody was paying attention. It wasn't that I was afraid anybody would believe Johnny was a real vampire, it was just—well, it was embarrassing.
 
Crystal carefully printed a name on her finished picture and held it up for us to see. It was a little girl with long yellow hair and a brown dress. If it hadn't been for the name she printed so neatly next to the picture, I would have guessed she had drawn a picture of herself.
 
Johnny narrowed his eyes as he read the name she had printed. “And who is this?” he asked, his voice carefully normal.
 
Crystal giggled. “That's Emily,” she told him. “The girl who fell in the well.” She took out her crayons and added a storybook well to the corner of the picture for emphasis.
 
Johnny looked at me over Crystal's head, and beside the rage that smoldered there, I saw panic in his eyes.
 
“You know her?” I asked quickly, an electric surge going through me as I realized he must have been the other Jonathan—Jonathan Price. And if he had been that one . . . .
 
“Knew,” he corrected me, as he stood up to leave.
 
“Wait! Are you coming back?” I asked. He had driven into town with us, and I had expected him to drive back with us as he had every other time he had come along with us.
 
Johnny turned, and his eyes were black. “No,” he answered shortly. He disappeared through the bright entryway, looking incongruously ordinary in his faded jeans and baseball cap.
 
Crystal continued coloring complacently, unaware of Johnny's sudden upset. I had a feeling I would pay for it later.
 
“Come on, Crystal. Let's go home,” I said.
 
She raised her head. “Where's Johnny?”
 
“He went home by himself,” I replied, and Crystal was satisfied with my answer.
 
Johnny came to me after Crystal was asleep. She and I had continued to share the big bed in the back room. It gave me comfort to have Crystal so near, and maybe a little part of me was using her as a protection against Johnny. He wouldn't hurt me in front of her.
 
It didn't help me this time. He stood at the foot of my bed, a silent specter, and waited for me to notice him. His eyes still burned black. Any panic that might have been in there before was burned cleanly away by his rage.
 
“How—do—you—know—about—Emily? ” he grated, each word enunciated as if it were an effort for him to get it past his teeth.
 
This was it. Of all the possible scenarios I had imagined, I never thought Jonny and Emily Crew would be the catalyst to reveal my Johnny's true identity. I gulped, not sure how much to say. Johnny's patience was not boundless, as I well knew, and I didn't want to die tonight.
 
“Their graves,” I began. “Up at the cemetery. We read the grave markers.”
 
He didn't believe me, not completely. Crystal had drawn a picture of the little girl she had seen in a photograph. It was a fairly accurate representation. Too many things were right—the light hair, the style of dress, and of course, the name.
 
“You really knew Jonny and Emily Crew?” I whispered, hoping to distract him. “You lived that long ago?”
 
He laughed, a sharp, bitter laugh. “It wasn't that long ago,” he replied. “Get up.”
 
I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave the safety of my bed, but I saw in his face that if I did not comply, it would be worse, and I didn't want Crystal to see what he really was, what a vampire really was. I got up.
 
We sat in the dark at my little table on the back porch. “She died while I was asleep,” he said softly. “I couldn't save her. She never even had the chance to grow up.”
 
A light went off in my head. Was Emily his Crystal?
 
“What do you mean?” I asked.
 
His eyes, still black, focused on me. “I killed her entire family after she died,” he said without expression.
 
As soon as I realized he was warning me again, he struck. I fell and fell and fell, but I never hit the floor. I woke up the next morning in my bed, alone. Where was Crystal? I fell getting out of bed and had to hold onto the doorframe until the black spots faded from in front of my eyes. I felt woozy and sick. Johnny had taken too much blood.
 
Crystal was nowhere in the house, and it was bright daylight. My blood pounded in my ears as my heart sped up in alarm. What was I going to do if Johnny had taken her from me? It didn't make sense, though. He had told me many times that he was going to kill me once he no longer needed me, and he still needed me because Crystal was too young.
 
I drank as much orange juice as I could stomach without losing it all again, then I started off for the beach. It was the only place I could think of to look that was within walking distance. Crystal was there, playing in the sand in our usual spot on the beach. I rushed over and hugged her, too relieved to do anything else.
 
“What are you doing here by yourself?” I asked, after I had calmed down. “You know you're not supposed to come down to the beach without an adult.”
 
“I didn't go near the water,” she said. “Johnny brought me. He told me to wait for you to come get me.”
 
“When?” I asked, pushing her hair aside and checking her neck and shoulders for red marks. There were none. “When did Johnny bring you here? Last night?”
 
“No, silly! In the morning. We took a walk to the beach really early. There was smoke all over the water.”
 
I realized she meant the foggy mist that hung over the lake before the morning sun burnt it all away. They must have come down here at the crack of dawn. “What were you doing the whole time?” I asked.
 
“Johnny told me stories about Emily. He was her friend, too. I told him we saw the picture at Aunt Beth's house, and he said he wished he could see it too. He misses her. Maybe he can come with us the next time we visit Aunt Beth!”
 
I feared for Aunt Beth's safety now. “You didn't tell him where Aunt Beth lives, did you?”
 
Crystal shrugged. “I didn't know how to get there. Johnny said he'll ask you later.”
 
I'm sure he would. “Where's Johnny now?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.
 
“Mo-om. You know he has to sleep in the daytime.” Crystal shook her head at my forgetfulness.
 
“Where did he go?” I persisted. “Did he go back up the road? When did he leave you here by yourself?”
 
“I don't know. He told me to wait for you, then he left.”
 
I let it drop. Everything Johnny did had a reason. He had wanted me to panic when I found Crystal was gone. He wanted me to know he had talked to her about Emily. He wanted me to know he was going to ask me about Aunt Beth tonight, so I would have all day to worry about it.
 
“Let's go eat,” I said, leading Crystal from the beach. In my panic this morning, I hadn't even taken my car, so we walked back up to the cottage.
 
Johnny was an enigma even as a vampire. He appeared before full dark, and he stayed awake past dawn. It was really only in the true daylight that he disappeared. I had only his word, and the word of my little vampire expert, Crystal, that he `slept' during the day. The question was, where? Was he in that first Jonathan's grave? I had never found another grave site for any of the other Jonathan Prices. I knew the one who had supposedly been lost in the woods and eaten by wild animals had not left a body behind to be buried. That reminded me. I wanted to go back up to the cemetery and check the stone wall for broken pieces of slate headstones. Over the years I had seen pieces of broken headstones piled among the rocks, their original grave sites lost due to vandalism.
 
I didn't know exactly what I would do if I found Jonathan's name on one of them. Try to find the broken base? Then what? I didn't know. I was so tired. I would just rest my eyes for a little while until Crystal finished her breakfast—lunch. I really should call Aunt Beth, too, and warn her. But what would I say? My eyes fluttered shut.
 
When I opened them, the sun was slanting through the living room window at an angle that I knew meant trouble. Crystal was eating—again—a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich this time. My own stomach rumbled, having had nothing but orange juice all day, but I didn't feel like eating. I had let too much time go by. Johnny would be here momentarily. I smiled grimly. At least I had ruined one of his objectives—since I slept all day, I hadn't had time to worry about what he would do to me.
 
He let himself in the front door, which I didn't bother locking anymore, and ruffled Crystal's hair while gazing speculatively at me as I lay on the couch. Without a word, he padded over to the kitchen and poured me a glass of water. He rummaged through the cabinets until he found my vitamins, shook a few into his hands, then brought me the water and the pills. “You really should eat,” he said mildly.
 
“I ate,” Crystal said. Her mouth was smeared with peanut butter.
 
“Can you make your Mommy one of those?” Johnny asked her. Crystal nodded and hopped up to make me a sandwich. “Make two!” Johnny called after her.
 
I looked at him in surprise. “Why? Are you planning on having one?” I asked bitterly.
 
He smiled briefly, before his eyes darkened and he spoke in a low voice. “You lied to me.”
 
I didn't expect that. I thought he would just demand to be taken to Aunt Beth's house. “I did not,” I protested. “We did read about Emily at the cemetery.”
 
“Then you went out of your way to find out more,” he said, still speaking in a low voice so that little ears wouldn't overhear us. “Why?”
 
“I didn't start out trying to find out about Emily,” I said. “I thought you might be Jonny Crew.”
 
Johnny's eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
 
I sighed. I hadn't wanted to tell him, but I suppose it would have come out eventually. Maybe this would satisfy him, he would punish me, and leave Aunt Beth alone. “I looked for the name `John' or something close to `John' in the cemetery. I found a few different ones who might be around your age—your apparent age,” I amended. “It was coincidence that we saw the photo of Jonny, Daniel and Emily at Aunt Beth's house. That's all. Coincidence.” I didn't tell him I had researched him at the local library, or that I had gone through the archives at Town Hall. I especially didn't mention the name `Jonathan Price.'
 
“This Aunt Beth—you knew her from before?” He meant before we had met him.
 
“She's a friend of a friend,” I hedged, hoping he wouldn't catch the evasion. “She's a lonely old woman who invited us to tea. She doesn't know anything about you.”
 
Crystal came back with my sandwiches, and Johnny waited while I choked down both of them. Protein. Despite myself, I was beginning to feel a little better. I drank a glass of milk to wash down the peanut butter. I'd rather have had a glass of wine.
 
“Let's go,” Johnny said. He handed me my car keys and took Crystal's hand. “No, don't call her,” he said to me, as I reached for the phone. “Let's surprise Aunt Beth.”
 
I had no choice. We drove up the paved road to the spot beyond the cemetery where it curves in a big arc. Johnny's eyes widened as we turned into the long driveway by the big white house with the green shutters. There were no lights on. Aunt Beth was not expecting visitors. We knocked on her door and waited patiently—at least Johnny waited patiently, I was a nervous wreck—until Aunt Beth shuffled to open it for us.
 
“I hope you don't mind,” I said with a false smile. “We stopped by to visit.”
 
Aunt Beth welcomed us in, even though by this time it was full dark. I suspected she had already been in bed. She turned on lights in the downstairs rooms and offered us something to drink. “Please don't bother,” I said. “We've just finished supper.”
 
Johnny had been looking all around the cluttered front room, especially at the pictures that were displayed haphazardly in various places. Crystal immediately went to the photograph of the Crews and brought it over to Johnny. “Here it is!” she said, holding it out to him.
 
Johnny stared at the picture without speaking.
 
Aunt Beth looked at me questioningly.
 
“This is Johnny,” I explained. “Crystal told him the story about the Crews and he wanted to see the picture for himself. That's why we stopped by so late.”
 
“Oh, it's not really that late!” Aunt Beth said, warming up as she understood the reason for our impromptu visit. She was more than happy to share tidbits of her family's past with whoever would listen. “I'm happy you came.” She wandered over to Johnny. “That's Jonny—you both have the same name—and that's his brother Daniel. They had the same mother. And this is Emily. She had a different mother, but the same father.”
 
Aunt Beth was in her element. She went on to tell the entire story of the Crews, including the part about poor Jonathan Price. “I have the newspaper article,” she offered once again. “The poor young man was so distraught. He was never found. He was eaten by animals, you see.”
 
Johnny was appropriately horrified. “He was another Jonny?” he asked.
 
“Jonathan. Jonathan Price.” Aunt Beth dimpled. “There certainly are a lot of Jon's—Jonny Crew, Jonathan Price, Johnny---?”
 
But my Johnny merely smiled back politely, and nodded.
 
“Almost as many as there are `Elizabeths,'” Aunt Beth went on, not noticing how Johnny immediately stilled and focused all his attention on her. “I'm an Elizabeth, so is my great-niece Betty, and of course we are all named after the first Elizabeth—Elizabeth Smythe. Come to think of it, she was engaged to a Jonathan—another Jonathan Price.” Aunt Beth beamed at me. “You remember. We were discussing that the last time you and your daughter were here. I had offered to show you the family tree next time you came over.”
 
Johnny turned to me. “You certainly have been busy,” he commented, and his pleasant voice did not match his eyes. They promised havoc later.
 
“Would you like to see the family tree tonight? Or is it too late?” Aunt Beth's voice held a note of confusion. She had picked up on the tension in the room.
 
“Oh, it's not too late,” Johnny assured her, sweeping his arm wide in a gesture too old-fashioned for a sixteen-year old boy. “After you.”