Teeth_ Vampire Tales - Ellen Datlow [126]
—What’s up? I asked.
Nothing, bitch, he said in cat language, and walked off, his tail straight up, showing me his ass.
The black car again—it slowed and stopped beside me. The window rolled down and Johnny Jacks peered out. I wondered how a loser like him had copped such a sharp ride.
—What’s your name? he asked.
—Now that would have been a terrific follow-up question last night. Did it just occur to you?
No response.
—Are you on a holy quest? That would explain your minimalist style. You must be focused on prayer all the time, right?
Nothing.
—Do I still smell nice? I asked.
He tipped his head back—his nostrils flared. Dial soap, he said.
My detectors started beeping. Momma’s favorite movie was Silence of the Lambs. I’d caught Hannibal Lecter’s act.
—Okay, I said. Good-bye.
—Let’s go for a drive, he said, climbing out of the car.
—Are you crazy? Fuck off!
I moved away along the wall.
He came after me, and I said, I’ll scream.
—Why? I mean you no harm.
The words “I mean you no harm” weirded me out even more—he seemed to have learned his English from a phrase book.
He stepped close, and I felt heat streaming off him. Please, he said.
—Leave me the fuck alone!
I crossed the street, glancing behind me to make certain he wasn’t following, and nearly got splattered by a panel van.
—Hey! What’s your problem? The driver stuck his head out. Your life not worth living?
I drank a couple of beers out front at Toby’s, letting the geezers eye-fuck me, and that’s when I began putting together Johnny Jacks and the Djadadjii. Once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t get it out of my head, and by the time I arrived at Sandrine’s, I was busting to tell her. She was nowhere to be seen, and I knew she was hiding because I hadn’t visited the night before.
—Sandrine, I called.
The river made chuckling noises, rubbing against the bank. Clouds hedged the moon, but it sailed clear. The shack held only moonlight and mirrors. I studied the foliage, trying to find her outline among the tangles of leaves.
—Don’t be pissy, I said.
—I know everything you’re thinking.
I still couldn’t find her.
—You think because you don’t visit me one night, two nights, I won’t mention what I need. What you promised me.
I whirled about, thinking she was behind me, and said, I didn’t promise anything. I said I’d try.
—How can I expect such a stupid girl to understand what I’ve endured? You tell me how alone you are, how much you hunger for life, yet every day you talk to people, you fill your belly, you taste life.
—Everything’s relative.
—You could have more life with me than you can possibly imagine.
—Don’t go there! You tricked me. You made me feel things.
—Oh! Now you’re going to pretend you feel nothing for me? That I put those feelings into your head? All I did was unlock a door you never realized existed. I’ve seen how you look at me.
She melted up from the chokecherry, a paring of a woman seeming no thicker than onionskin, drifting toward me on the breeze—she touched her gauzy breasts, caressed almost imperceptible hips and thighs. A firefly danced behind her forehead, hovered for an instant in one eye.
—I see you looking now, she said.
Frightened, I backed away from her until my shoulders touched the wall of the shack.
—I’ve been patient with you, she said. I could be patient forever and it wouldn’t do any good.
—The Djadadjii, I said. Do they feel hotter than normal people?
Her face emptied.
—I met this guy, I said. He’s new in town. Super good-looking, but a retard. He can barely talk and his skin feels like