Jane Goes Batty

Well, that makes us even, Jane thought. She had yet to tell Walter that she was a vampire, a situation that was becoming more and more difficult to excuse as they grew closer.

“I’m sure whatever it is—” she began.

“I’m Jewish,” said Walter. “Well, technically I am.”

Jane paused. “Fletcher isn’t a very Jewish name,” she commented. “Not that it matters to me.”

“My mother’s maiden name is Ellenberg,” said Walter. “Miriam Ellenberg. She’s Jewish, so by default so am I. Not that I practice or even really think about it much. But she does.”

Suddenly there was a lot of static coming through the phone. Jane pressed the receiver to her ear, trying to hear. A moment later Walter’s voice returned.

“Sorry. I had to get between the bushes,” he whispered. “They’re on the move. I think they’re heading to Brian’s house. I mean Tavish’s house. What are we supposed to call him again?”

“Tavish is fine,” said Jane. Another secret she was keeping from Walter was Byron’s true identity. As far as Walter knew, his real name was Brian George.

“Did you tell him I say hello?” Byron asked. He was crouched on the floor, tossing a ball for Jasper. Jane ignored him.

“Anyway, I think that’s where they’re going,” said Walter. “As soon as they’re gone I’ll run to your back door.”

“I’ll unlock it,” Jane told him, and hung up.

A brief glance out the front window confirmed that Beverly had moved the tour away from Jane’s house. Jane saw the back of the bus as it turned the corner. A moment later she heard knocking on the kitchen door and hurried to open it.

“She’s relentless,” Walter said as he stumbled into the house, collapsing into one of the chairs around the table. “I swear she has spies all over town.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” said Jane.

“She’s really not that bad,” Byron remarked, entering the room. “And it would do wonders for your career if —”

“Shouldn’t you be getting home?” said Jane.

Byron sighed. “I suppose so,” he said. “Oh, but I still need to borrow that book.”

“What boo—” Jane began to say before a look from Byron reminded her of her earlier lie to Walter. “Yes, of course. Just a moment.”

She went into the living room and pulled a book at random from the bookcase. Back in the kitchen she handed it to Byron.

“Frankenstein,” Byron said. “How delightful.” He turned to Walter. “Have you read it? It’s one of my favorites. And there’s a perfectly delightful story behind its authorship. You see—”

“There’s no need to return it,” Jane said as she pushed Byron toward the door. “I’ve never much cared for it.”

Byron paused at the door. “You did very well,” he whispered. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said Jane. “Now get out.”

She shut the door behind Byron, went to the refrigerator, removed a pitcher of iced tea, and poured a glass for Walter. “Now let’s get back to the drama over your Jewishness,” she said as she handed him the drink.

Walter took a long drink, then set the glass down. “It’s not me,” he reminded her. “It’s my mother.”

“You said that,” said Jane. “But I still don’t understand the issue.”

Walter drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “I’ll put it as simply as I can,” he said. “My mother wants me to marry a nice Jewish girl.”

“Oh,” Jane said. “Now I see. May I ask, was Evelyn Jewish?” They seldom spoke about Walter’s deceased wife, but Jane thought the question pertinent to the discussion.

Walter nodded. “She was,” he said. “Again, like me she didn’t really do anything about it. But the fact that she was Jewish was enough for my mother.”

“Let me make sure I understand completely,” said Jane. “Your mother is coming to visit and you’re concerned that she will be upset because I’m not Jewish.”

“Yes,” said Walter. “That’s it.”

“Hasn’t the question come up before now?”

“It might have,” Walter said vaguely.

“And what might you have told her?” Jane asked.

Walter, looking uncomfortable, drained his glass before answering. “I might have told her that you were thinking of converting.”

“Converting!” Jane said. “Becoming Jewish? Me?” She paused for a moment. “Can you do that?” she asked.

“You can,” said Walter. “You have to take a class or something.”

“A class,” Jane said. “On being Jewish. How novel.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before now,” said Walter. “Honestly, I thought I would tell her you were converting and then it wouldn’t come up again until we got mar—” He stopped and looked away. “Until later,” he concluded.

Jane too looked away. The subject of marriage was another one they didn’t discuss. We really should make a list of forbidden topics, she mused.

“All right,” she said. “Your mother thinks I’m converting to Judaism. We’ll just let her think that I am. I don’t see why that should be a problem.”

Walter leaned back in his chair. “She’s a Jewish mother,” he said miserably. “They can tell when you’re lying.”

“Nonsense,” Jane said.

Walter looked at her. “You don’t know,” he said. “I’m telling you, they’re mind readers. When I was a boy, my mother always knew when I wasn’t telling her the truth. Always.”

“Then shouldn’t she have figured out by now that you’re fibbing?”

Walter shook his head. “That’s over the phone,” he said. “But once she sees me in person, it’s all over.”

Jane stifled a laugh. Part of her thought Walter was joking, but the expression on his face, and his continued nervousness, said otherwise.

“So as far as she knows, I’m considering converting, correct?” she said.

Walter nodded.

“Then we’ll just keep pretending that I’m considering it. That won’t be a lie.”

“I told her you’ve already begun studying with a rabbi,” Walter said.

“A rabbi?” Jane felt a flush of anger, which she forced down. “All right,” she said when she’d calmed down. “I’m studying with a rabbi. How long have I been doing this?”

“Just a couple of months.”

Jane nodded. “And what would I have learned in that time?”

“I don’t know,” Walter answered.

“You don’t know?” said Jane. “How can you not know?”

“I didn’t have to convert!” Walter said. “It came built in.”

“Then we’ll just have to find out what it entails,” said Jane. “I’m sure I can catch up enough to be able to answer any questions your mother might have. When is she coming?”

“In two weeks,” Walter said.

“Two weeks!” Jane slumped in her chair. There was no way she would be able to learn what she had to learn before then, especially if the film company was coming as well. She looked at Walter, shaking her head. “Oy vey!” she said.

Chapter 2