The Traveling Vampire Show

Then I realized it was a stupid thought. Everyone for miles around knew the location of Janks Field. Almost everyone avoided it whenever possible, but hardly anyone would have trouble getting there, even in the dark.

Slim eased her Pontiac off the road. We dipped down into a shallow ditch, then climbed out of it and rolled through some deep grass.

“What’re you doing?” Rusty asked.

“Parking,” Slim said.

The car shook as she steered it over the rough ground. Bushes squeaked against the sides. Fallen twigs crackled under the tires. But not for long.

Slim stopped the car behind some trees, killed its headlights and shut off the engine.

“Jeez,” Rusty said.

“We don’t want everybody seeing our car.”

By “everybody,” I’m sure Slim meant more than just people wishing to do us harm. She also meant any residents of Grandville who might drive by—either on their way to the show or going elsewhere. Because if anyone should see the huge old Pontiac, word would get around. Soon, everyone in town—including our parents—would know that Slim’s car had been spotted out near the Janks Field turnoff the night of the Traveling Vampire Show.

The night of my dad’s car accident.

The night Slim’s mom had her overnight date on the river.

The night the parents of Rusty and Bitsy thought we’d taken their kids to a double-feature at the Moonlight Drive-in.

I suddenly had a bad thought.

“Rusty,” I said.

He looked around at me.

“What time are you and Bitsy supposed to get home?”

“What time do you think?”

“Midnight?”

“Good guess.”

“We can’t be back by then,” I said. “That’s when the show begins.”

“No sweat,” Rusty said. “My folks’re never awake by midnight We’ll just sneak in real quiet when we get home. They’ll never be the wiser.”

Maybe he was right. He had certainly gotten away, many times, with sneaking in and out of his house late at night.

“If we do get caught,” he said, “I’ll just say we had car trouble. And anyway, by then it’ll be too late. We’ll already’ve seen the show, right?” He chuckled. “Let ’em ground me. See who cares.”

Chapter Forty-four

With the rest of us standing nearby, Slim opened the trunk of her car. Then she just stood there as if staring in.

“What’re you waiting for?” Rusty asked.

Slim shook her head. “I’d better leave this stuff here,” she said. “We might need to blend in with the crowd. Can’t exactly do that if I’m armed like Robin Hood.” Leaving her archery equipment inside the trunk, she shut the lid.

We started back toward the dirt road, staying in among the bushes and trees in case of traffic on Route 3.

“Nobody said we’d have to walk,” Bitsy complained.

“You’re the one that wanted to come,” Rusty reminded her.

“But I got sandals on.”

“So wait in the car.”

“Nobody’s going to wait in the car,” Slim said.

“My feet are getting all scratched.”

“Tough toenails,” Rusty said, and chuckled.

“Ha ha. That’s so funny I forgot to…”

“Let’s hold up here a second,” I said. We halted, and I pulled off one of my shoes. As I peeled the sock off, I said, “You can wear my socks, Bitsy.”

“Really?” She sounded surprised and pleased.

“Sure.” I handed her the sock I’d already removed. Still balancing on one leg, I put my sneaker back on. Then I shifted legs and took off the other shoe and sock. I gave the second sock to her.

“Thank you very much,” she said.

As I put my shoe on again, Bitsy sat on the ground. She brought her knees up and spread them wide apart like a little kid. But she wasn’t a little kid and she was wearing a dress.

There must’ve been a break in the clouds. Some moonlight made its way into the forest and she’d found a patch of it.

Almost as if she wanted me to watch.

I looked away and glimpsed Rusty staring down at her. He didn’t say anything, just watched.

Being her brother, maybe he was used to seeing that sort of thing. I didn’t have a sister, so I wouldn’t know. But it seemed funny that he would stare like that.

It made me wonder about Rusty.

About Bitsy, too, for that matter. She had to know her brother was watching, but it didn’t seem to faze her.

Bitsy was turning out to be more strange than I had ever imagined.

Slim, keeping watch as if afraid someone might sneak up on us, didn’t seem to notice Bitsy’s secret show—or audience.

After putting my socks on, Bitsy struggled into her sandals and stood up. She brushed off the seat of her dress. “Thanks,” she said again.

“You’re welcome.”

“Ready?” Slim asked.

“Yeah,” Bitsy said.

So we started off again, Slim in the lead, Rusty next. Instead of moving out behind her brother, Bitsy came over to my side and took my hand. “I wanta stay by you,” she said.

“Sure.”

She kept hold of my hand. Side by side, we made our way through the dark woods.

“The socks sure help,” she said.

“Good.”

“They’re kinda sweaty, but I don’t mind. I kinda like it.”

“Ah,” I said.

“Car!” Slim warned.