The Traveling Vampire Show

Dracula, how come you went into my mom’s room and started breaking things?”

Here we go.

“I didn’t,” she blurted.

Meeting my eyes, Rusty shook his head slightly.

“You didn’t break the vase?” Slim asked. “Or the perfume bottle?”

“They was ... already busted. I just ... I took the flowers, that’s all ... They looked so ... they was on the floor like ... like nobody wanted ’em and they got thrown down ... and they looked so sad.”

Looking perplexed, Slim said, “But you didn’t break any glass?”

Bitsy shook her head.

Then Slim laid off the questions for a while and I patted Bitsy until she calmed down. When she was done crying, Slim asked, “So what happened after you picked up the roses?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing else at my house?”

“Huh-uh.”

“So you left my house, and then what?”

Lowering her head, she muttered, “I guess I went and gave a rose to Dwight.”

“You went over to his house and sneaked in?”

She nodded slightly.

“What time was that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Wasn’t my mom home?”

Again, the small nodding motion. Then the soft voice murmured, “I guess so.”

“You snuck around in my house while my mother was there?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeez.”

Rusty looked pleased with himself. “Told you she’s a psycho.”

“I didn’t hurt nothing,” Bitsy said.

“What did you do in Dwight’s house?” Slim asked.

“Nothing. Just gave him the flower, that’s all.”

“You put it on my bed,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Good God,” I muttered.

“What else did you do?” Slim asked.

The way Bitsy’s face suddenly flushed crimson, I wished Slim had kept the question to herself.

“Nothing,” Bitsy said.

“Oooo, boy,” Rusty muttered.

“What did you do?” Slim asked again.

Once too many times.

Bitsy’s head jerked up and she snapped at Slim, “Nothing! I didn’t do nothing! You can go to hell! You can all go to hell!” Then she leaped up and ran for the foyer.

For a moment, the three of us were too stunned to move or speak. Then Rusty yelped, “Shit!”

Slim called, “Bitsy, wait.”

From where I was sitting on the sofa, I could see the girl hustle toward the front door. “Bitsy!” I yelled.

Then Rusty pounded by.

“Good God,” Slim said. She sprang up, dropping her bow to the carpet and struggling to pull off her quiver.

I leaped up and went after Rusty.

“Stop or I’m gonna cream you!” he shouted.

His sister flung open the screen door and ran outside. The door, starting to swing shut, bounced off Rusty as he charged through.

“Rusty!” I yelled. Hot on his heels, I swept the closing door out of my way, rushed across the stoop and leaped down the stairs.

Bitsy was chugging across Lee’s front yard, short hair bouncing, skirt flapping behind her, Rusty closing in.