After Kandi followed me the second time, I kept a wary eye out for her and even took to going a longer way, just to throw her off my trail. I hid out from her at school, too, and after a while she started ignoring me back, which was a huge relief.

It took over two weeks, but finally one Friday it felt safe enough to take the shorter walk to Brookside, and I got there in time to see an ambulance parked by the main doors with its lights flashing and the engine running.

I hurried inside, but the East Wing and the West Wing were both closed, so I couldn’t tell which side of the place the ambulance was for. I would have asked Geri when I signed in, but she was on the phone, recruitin’ folks for the Alzheimer’s Walk that was happening in early December. Not that she would have told me much. She never does, unless the subject is the weather. But I would have asked anyway, especially since I’ve figured out that there’s a vampire in Room 102.

Go ahead and laugh, but I’m not messing around. Room 102 has two beds. One of them’s for Mrs. White—she’s the vampire. The other’s for somebody who has no idea they’re about to die.

It’s a sneaky situation, because Mrs. White doesn’t look like a vampire. She actually looks like the one who’s had all her blood drained. Her face is gray and bony, her hair is white and wispy, and her hands are one hundred percent knuckles.

She also acts dead. She just lies there, day after day, bony-faced and wispy-haired, asleep in her special motorized bed.

Ma explained to me that Mrs. White has a special bed because she’s on hospice, which she also explained was a nice way of saying she’s going to die. Very soon. Like, any day. Only Mrs. White hasn’t died. Instead, she’s outlived six roommates since Ma started working there.

Six!

Every one of those roommates was in way better shape than Mrs. White. They could get up and sit at a table for dinner. They could use a toilet and take a shower and go to the Activities Room, all while Mrs. White just lay there, looking dead.

One by one, though, the roommates suddenly died.

And every one of them died during the night.

And every time one died, Mrs. White bounced back to life.

“Just when you think she’s the one who’ll be gone by morning, she bounces back,” Ma said after the third roommate, Cynthia, died back in early October. “I sat with her to distract her while they were clearing out Cynthia’s things. Her cheeks were rosy. She smiled and talked…even thanked me after I changed her!”

We were on the bus ride home. And maybe it’s ’cause we’d entered the month of ghouls and goblins, and spooky decorations were already up in store windows, but a funny idea about Mrs. White flashed into my brain. I kept my voice down as I broke the news to Ma. “That’s because she’s a vampire.”

Ma gave me one of her looks. “Lincoln!”

I gave her one of my looks.

So she frowned at me and said, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. She can’t even get out of bed!”

“She doesn’t need to,” I whispered. “She’s a psychic vampire.”

“A what?”

“She sucks the life force out of folks,” I told her.

“And how does she do that?”

I gave her a little grin. “You need to ask her.”

I was just messing around, but less than two weeks later the next roommate mysteriously died during the night, and Ma kind of freaked out. “Mrs. White’s cheeks were all rosy again!” she whispered on the bus ride home. “They haven’t been rosy since the last time!”

“I told you,” I said with a little shrug, “she’s a psychic vampire.” But this time I wasn’t so sure I was messing around.

Then it happened again, and Ma really freaked out. “It’s not funny!” she said. “It’s the third one this month! It’s like…it’s like some sort of hoodoo.”

The fifth roommate dying had caused Ma to work late, so it was darker’n usual as we were walking home from the bus stop. My eyes were dartin’ around, taking in the creatures of the night hangin’ out in doorways. “So don’t go back in her room,” I said, wondering how powerful a psychic vampire could get.

Ma drew her coat in tighter. “I have to! It’s my job!”

I noticed the moon, shinin’ near full above us. “Well, just don’t go in her room after dark, then. And maybe wear some garlic.”

“Garlic? Really?” she asked.

I pointed out the moon. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

I was expecting her to accuse me of having a wild imagination, but seein’ the moon did her in. “Oh, Lord!” she gasped.

She tried to dial it back, telling me we were just overreacting, but then she stopped at the corner market for some garlic. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

Ma seemed fine the next morning, but the instant I got to Brookside that afternoon, she hauled me into the Clubhouse phone room and closed the door tight. “She noticed!” Ma gasped, and her eyes were wide as pies.

“Who noticed what?” I looked through the phone room window to see if anyone was watching, ’cause the room is small and being hauled into it felt mighty awkward.

“Mrs. White! She noticed the garlic!” Ma dropped her voice even more. “Her nose twitched! Like this,” she said, then did a twitchy thing with her nose that made her look like a rabbit trying to sneeze. “And she asked, ‘What is that foul odor?’ ”

I took a little step back ’cause Ma was smelling mighty garlicky. “Had she messed her diaper?”

“Yes! And she still noticed it! She acted like she was afraid of it!”

“Maybe she was talking about her smell?”

“She never talks about her smell, and her smell’s a whole lot worse than garlic!”

“So…did you tell her?”

Her eyes about popped out. “That I was warding off her psychic vampire powers with garlic?!” She looked out the window to make sure no one had heard, ’cause it had come out so loud. But worse than someone hearing, the Brookside director, Mr. Freize, was entering the Clubhouse. “Oh, Lord,” Ma gasped. She shoved me down in the phone chair. “Stay right here until I come get you. Look busy! Do your homework!”

“Ma, you should—”

“Hush!” she said, and hurried out of the room.

So I didn’t get to tell her how garlicky she smelled.

I didn’t get to tell her that she should steer clear of the director.

Too bad, too, ’cause she was all mortified on the ride home. “Did it really smell that strong?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

“I shouldn’t have peeled them.”

“You peeled them?”

“I didn’t know! I’ve never had to ward off vampires before!”

“And them? How many did you have on you?”

“Never mind!” she snapped. Then she muttered, “They must’ve warmed up after I started working.” She looked out the window. “It’s not an easy job, you know.”

We rode along for a while, quiet, until finally I asked, “You got rid of them, right?”

“Of course I got rid of them!”

She wasn’t in the mood to hear it, but I felt like I needed to tell her. “It still smells, Ma.”

That night she took a shower until the hot water was all gone. And the next day Mrs. White had a brand-new roommate, named Mary. “She’s sweet and gentle, and her daughter seems so nice,” Ma told me with tears in her eyes.

Sure enough, near the end of her second week, Sweet Mary died unexpectedly during the night. November was starting off the same way October had, and I couldn’t help wondering again how powerful a psychic vampire could get. Especially with the nights getting longer. Did it give her more time to use her powers? Would she be reaching through walls soon?

“Go in there and look!” Ma said, pointing at Mrs. White’s room. “Her cheeks are all rosy. She’s giggling and wanting to go for a walk!”

“I’m not going in there!” I told her, and made a beeline for my table.

Mrs. White didn’t actually get up and go for a walk that afternoon. She just lay in her special bed while they finished cleaning out Mary’s half of the room.

About two weeks had passed since Mary died, so I figured the ambulance idling in front of Brookside had something to do with Mrs. White killing off her new roommate—a big, boxy woman named Pat.

The truth is, I was more worried about Ma being freaked out than I was about Pat being dead, but when the East Wing door opened, I quit worrying about either. It was Debbie Rucker who was being wheeled out, and she was as alive as ever.

Geri was still on the phone, so I hurried over to catch the door.

“What is your name?” Debbie demanded when she saw me.

“Lincoln,” I told her.

“Well, Lincoln, guess what?” she said, rolling by. “I fell and I have to go to the hospital!”

“Hope you’re okay,” I said.

“I’ll be fine!” she told me. Then in a big burst she called, “Lincoln was the sixteenth president! My favorite!”

I caught the East Wing door before it latched.

“Don’t let them throw out my snack,” Debbie hollered over her shoulder. “Did you hear me, Lincoln? Don’t let them throw out my snack!”

I pushed the door open. All of a sudden I was ready for a snack. Maybe two!

I lost my appetite quick, though, ’cause that was the same day Ruby Hobbs begged Gloria to let her dance.

It hit me hard. I’d been spendin’ my afters at Brookside for over two months and sure hadn’t seen it coming, but somewhere along the line the oldies had become people to me. People with feelings. So as tough as it was for my eyes to take, seein’ Ruby the way she was didn’t seem so funny anymore.