The Big Huge Fat Vampire Bat Page 2
“Jack?”
Erin opened her closet door.
Jack wasn’t in his usual place in the hood of one of her winter coats. Lately, she’d had to let him start sleeping there, because he was too heavy to hang upside down on the drapery rod.
She looked around the room at his other haunts. He wasn’t warming himself on the lamp shade. There was no sign of a bat next to the cricket cage, where the small black insects hopped around oblivious to their future destiny as bat food.
“Jack?”
“What?” an impatient voice snapped from above. Erin looked up and now she could see a bat foot sticking out from under a pile of stuffed animals on a shelf near her casket.
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing up there?”
“Sleeping. Or more precisely, not sleeping. It’s kind of hard when a certain vampire is always coming in the room jabbering unnecessarily.”
Erin bit down a retort. Her bat was definitely in a sour mood.
She sat down on a chair and studied the bat foot. A toe twitched, but the bat didn’t make any other move to come out of the toys.
“Jack, we have to talk.”
He snorted.
“Jack, seriously. We have to discuss this.”
Nothing.
“Jack?”
“What?!”
“Jack, get your butt out here, or I’m going …”
She paused, not sure what a good threat to a bat would be.
“I’ll feed you ants instead of crickets.”
“I hate ants,” a surly voice said from the stuffed animals.
She stifled a grin. “Plenty of protein, so you won’t starve.”
“They have nasty tasting toxins.”
“It won’t hurt you,” she said, trying to hide a grin.
“How would you know?” he growled. “I’m a dedicated entomophagist. You humans ignore the most tasty, ecologically available protein on the planet. And for what? Cows! You eat cows! And pigs. Disgusting. One is farting away the ozone layer and the other rolls around in mud. You know how much food you waste just to feed your lust for beef and bacon? You could run your autos on all of the wasted corn.”
“I don’t eat that stuff,” she said.
“Well, right, you’re a vampire. But humanity? They should be eating bugs,” he huffed.
“While we’re on the subject…” she began.
“Don’t get started on that fat thing again,” he warned. His leg twitched angrily.
“Jack, there’s something wrong with your weight.”
“How would you know that?” his voice said from near a stuffed bear.
“Your…”
“Have you weighed me?” the stuffed bear said.
“Well, no…”
“Then you have absolutely no idea how much I weigh,” the bear said with a satisfied air.
“No, but I can tell by looking at you that you weigh more than you ought to.”
“That’s because I’m retaining water.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Big bones.”
She sighed. “No, Jack, you don’t have big bones. You’re a flying mammal.”
“And you just remember that, you non-flying … oh, wait, you can fly.”
“Jack. How come you’re so big?”
The bear didn’t answer.
Erin sighed. “Look, that wasn’t the only reason I came to talk to you.”
Silence from the bear.
Erin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a long moment, she let it out. “I’m scared, Jack.”
The bear shifted and asked reluctantly, “About what?”
“One of my bite anniversaries is coming up.”
“So?” the bear prompted.
“I’ll be one step closer to human again.”
“So?” the bear said again, this time with a hint of impatience.
“Jack, what happens to you if I manage to turn completely human again?!”
“Oh, that.”
A ripple of anxious frustration went through Erin, “Yes, Jack. That. When I was bitten by a vampire, you showed up after the second bite. Out of the blue. And even you have no idea where you came from.”
“I’m a gift from heaven.”
Erin snorted. “And then we learned that it takes three bites from a vampire to turn someone totally into a vampire.”
“And all of the bites have to be within one calendar year,” Jack added.
“Right. And after a year passes, the bite … I don’t know…”
“Is no longer active.”
Erin waved her arms, “Is no longer active. Or something.”
“Past its expiration date.”
Erin was startled into a giggle, “Right, past its expiration date.”
Then she sobered. “So what happens, Jack … to you … once all of my bites are expired?”
Silence from the bear.
That’s when the tears that had been building up finally started flowing. Erin grabbed a pillow from her coffin and hugged it tightly.
Jack’s face peeked out from around the stuffed bear. Beady eyes studied her intensely. Finally, he said, “You don’t worry about that.”
A sob choked Erin and she gasped for breath.
Jack ignored it and continued, “Don’t even think about it. No matter what happens, I’m fine with it. You think about you, about becoming human. Getting your life back.”
“But, Jack…”
“No. I said I’ll be okay and that’s that.”
With a leathery rustle of wings, he emerged from the stuffed animals and launched awkwardly into the air. “And as someone pointed out, I have to get some exercise,” he said, winging out of the room.
Rocking back and forth, Erin watched him go, tears streaming down her face.