The scariest part of that night was waiting for the cab. I suppose it took only two minutes or so to arrive, but every second felt like the tense moment in a horror movie. All that was missing was the creepy music. I hid behind a Dumpster until the cab arrived. Once we got moving, I felt a lot safer, which is usually about that time in the movie when the bad guy jumps out with a chainsaw or something and hacks you to bits. Fortunately nothing happened, and the cabbie got me there in about twenty minutes.
When I climbed out of the car, Charlie was waiting on the dock. He saw me, waved and came over to pay the fare.
“How much is it?” he asked.
I don’t know what the cabbie said, but Charlie pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and took out some bills. He handed them through the window to the cabbie and then pushed me roughly on the shoulder.
“Run,” he shouted, stepping past me.
I didn’t move right away, so he pulled me forward.
“Run!”
I don’t know why it is that I don’t always do what I’m told. I suppose it’s because I usually want to understand what is going on before I make a decision to do anything. It seemed strange that my friend was pulling me towards the dock and screaming in my ear like that guy with the chainsaw had just appeared, but when I saw the cabbie open the door and get out, well, the look on his face told me everything I needed to know. It was pure rage. There’s probably a picture of him in a dictionary somewhere under maniac. I can picture the words underneath it: “Don’t ever, ever cheat this man of his cab fare!”
Charlie must not have had enough money.
I ran. Fortunately, Charlie was ahead of me by quite a bit and had untied the boat. It was a small tin boat with a bright orange engine that made me think of a pumpkin. He didn’t bother trying to start it. He just pushed off from the dock. I had to leap.
I was excited, so I jumped too far. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to drop my father’s journal into the boat as I flew over it.
My feet hit the water on the far side, but I managed to turn and grab hold of the boat as I dropped past. An instant later, the coolness of the water seeped through my pants. I kicked my legs and tried to pull myself over the side, but Charlie didn’t give me the chance. He fired up the motor, put it into gear and took off. I could hear the cabbie swearing at us from the dock, but I didn’t look back for even a second. As soon as the boat started moving it was all I could do to hang on. After my adventures on the Otonabee, I was so scared of drowning that I dug my fingertips into the metal. I could feel it bending from the pressure.
Charlie didn’t slow down. Even though there was water spraying everywhere and we were too far out for the cabbie to get us, or even hit us with a rock, he kept the throttle turned up to full. I’m amazed I didn’t tear the boat in half. Finally I started shouting at him to slow down, and he cut the engine. He was laughing hysterically.
There must be something contagious about laughter because a second later I started up, too. We were a pair of hyenas. The whole time, I kept trying to climb into the boat, but I was laughing too hard. After a minute, Charlie reached over the side and helped me in.
A second later we were heading down the lake again. I was clutching my father’s journal against my stomach, which was grumbling so angrily I’m surprised it didn’t crawl out and attack me. And I was getting cold. My clothes were soaked right through. So was the journal. I’d splashed so much water into the boat that it was drenched. I hoped I hadn’t wrecked it completely.
Charlie must have known I was really bummed out, because he didn’t say a word to me once we were moving. He just let me shiver. All I could think about was how awful things were. My life had gone from painfully dull to totally out of control. And I felt ridiculous because it was what I’d always wanted—an adventure just like Bilbo’s. Well, I imagine you’ve heard the saying “Be careful what you wish for.” The wise guy who came up with this one must have had a brain the size of a watermelon. My own adventure had arrived like a kick in the pants. Baron Vrolok and his servants were after me. I was soaked, freezing and penniless, with no way to feed myself. I didn’t even have a change of underwear. If there was an adventure survival guide out there someplace, I’d already broken every rule in it. And that wasn’t all. While I was screwing up left and right, the people I needed most were disappearing, one at a time. First Nurse Ophelia. Then Mr. Entwistle. It made me really nervous because I was with Charlie now, my best friend. If things kept up the way they were going, well, we were both in for it.
The boat ride to Charlie’s cottage was mercifully short. I was shivering so much I’m surprised I didn’t chip a tooth. But Charlie’s place was warm and cozy. I’d never been in an old-fashioned cottage before, but I’m sure if you ever have, you know exactly what it’s like to walk into one for the first time. It has this wonderful smell, like old, sun-baked wood. The design was simple: just a porch, a kitchen, a living room and a master bedroom, all laid out in a row. I’m betting it was just what the survival guide would have recommended.
“I’ll get you a towel and some clothes,” Charlie said. He disappeared into the bedroom. While he was gone, I sat on the kitchen floor against the cupboards and tried to figure out what to tell him, but it was hard for me to concentrate. The hunger was coming on. Pinched eyes. Churning gut. Itchy throat.
I didn’t notice that Charlie was back until he grabbed my wrist.
“What are you doing?” I snapped, jerking my hand away.
“Relax. You want to scratch a hole in your neck?”
I don’t know about you, but whenever someone tells me to relax it always has the opposite effect.
Charlie tossed a dry shirt and pair of pants on the floor beside me. “Man, who’s pulling on your tail?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I even tried counting to ten to settle myself down, but I only made it to three. Blood. I swear I could smell it right through Charlie’s skin. It made my teeth grind together.
“I need to eat.” I kept my eyes closed when I spoke. I was sure if I looked at him, I’d bite him.
“What do I have that you can keep down? You’re allergic to everything but air.”
“I need blood,” I said.
There was a long pause after this. I opened my eyes just to make certain Charlie was still there.
“Blood?” he said.
I nodded. “Yes. Blood. Now. Like, right now.”
Charlie was sitting in a kitchen chair. He stood up so that he was looking down at me.
“Oh, blood. Right. Of course, blood. What was I thinking? Well, we just happen to have a huge barrel of it in the back. Do you want some fries with that?”
What should I have expected? But I did need to eat. I didn’t want some part of my mind taking over and forcing me to do something unspeakable to my best friend, so I told him the truth.
“I’m a vampire. I got infected eight years ago. I need blood.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds, then Charlie started shaking his head.
“You lucky duck,” he said.