My Favorite Fangs: The Story of the Von Trapp Family Vampires (11 page)

Dejected, Maria tore all the fabric to bits, then ate the remnants. Stomach filled, she trudged to the window, seeking solace from the rain, but, much to her chagrin, the downpour had come to a halt, and the sun was taking its rightful place in the sky. “The light was never this bright at the Abbey,” she sighed. “I’ll never enjoy such darkness again. I guess there isn’t a thing to do but whistle a happy tune.”

The bummed-out Vampire waited for the cry of,
Wrong musical, whore,
but it never came. This only increased her bummed-out-ed-ness, so she did what she always did when she was feeling blue: Unsheathed her reliable tenor saxophone.

Was Maria a good saxophonist, one might ask? Considering her Vampire-like powers, one would expect that answer to be a resounding yes, but the fact of the matter was, while she was technically proficient, she lacked the one thing that all saxophonists need to transcend: A soul. Sure, she could let loose with a series of arpeggios that would knock saxophone inventor Adolphe Sax onto his Belgian backside. And sure, she could hold an F-sharp that would send tendrils of smoke from her instrument’s bell. But could she play the blues? Absolutely not. Not even when she was feeling blue. Like right at this very moment.

Maria tooted a few etudes to warm up her lips and fangs, and then, from the saxophone bell emerged another saxophone bell, followed by another saxophone, followed by another saxophonist: John Coltrane.

The Vampire dropped her horn and gasped, “Chocolate Thunder! I thought I wouldn’t see you again until the epilogue.”

“And yet, here I am.”

She gulped, then reached out to touch the hem of his suit jacket and huskily whispered, “How about a jam session? First I blow. Then you blow. Then I blow. Then you blow. Then…”

Coltrane gave the Vampire an indulgent chuckle. “Oh, Maria, come talk to me when you can handle a diminished cycle.”

Sighing, Maria said, “I’m still stuck on my cycle of fifths.”

Coltrane nodded. “No surprise. Vampires and musical theory don’t get along. But that’s neither here nor there. According to the movie’s timeline, you have some transformations to do, correct?”

“Movie? Timeline? Transformations?”

“It’s time to turn those damn brats into Vampires.”

“Oh. Right. Any thoughts on how I might do that?”

“Well, as you’re well aware, Vampires don’t transform humans if they’re asleep, so…” And then tapped her saxophone.

Nodding knowingly, Maria took a deep breath, jammed the tenor’s mouthpiece in between her lips, and blew a low and loud E-flat that killed the five innocent bluebirds who had been hovering outside the window.

Coltrane winced, said, “That ought to do it,” then cocked his ear. “Ah, sure enough, I hear something from the other room. The sound of a boy. The sound of a chunky boy. The sound of a chunky boy awakening. The sound of a chunky boy awakening, then wiping the drool from his face. And the sound of another boy. The sound of a boy who’s, as we say in the jazz world, tuning his clarinet.”

“That would be Kurt and Friedrich.”

“And they need transforming.”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever transformed young boys before?”

With a small smile, Maria said, “Only in my dreams, Chocolate Thunder. Only in my dreams.”

“Well, you should probably know that when you bite a boy’s neck, a yellow acidic bile will jet from his nose and burn a hole in his mattress.”

“Ooooh,” Maria squealed happily.

“And a chunky, odoriferous red discharge will flow from your lady-parts and stain the floor.”

“Oooooooooooooh,” Maria squealed even more happily, then skipped into the boys’ bedroom.

A quarter of an hour later, after Maria had finished feeding, and after the boys had finished bleeding, Friedrich sat up and grimaced, his new fangs growing—and growing sharper—by the second. He touched his front teeth and asked, “Did you just do what I think you did?”

“What do you think I did?”

“I think you turned me into a Vampire.”

“And I think you’re correct.”

He cried a single wordless syllable, then punched a hole in the wall.

Maria blanched. “Oh. My. Did I misread you, Friedrich? I thought this might be something you would enjoy. If that’s the case, I apologize.” She scratched her head. “The problem here is that, well, I am unable to undo what has been done.”

Another wordless syllable. Another hole in the wall.

“Friedrich, I’m so sorry. Say something, please!”

Friedrich’s grimace became a grin. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Governess. My screams are joyful! My punching is a celebration! I can now live forever, and feed in the night, and make passionate love to the Vampire of my dreams.” He made a motion to touch her breasts. “Right?”

She swatted his hand away and stood up. “Well, Friedrich, now that I think about it, fourteen might be a tad young for me.”

“But … but … but I shall now be fourteen forever!”

Maria said, “Riiiiiiight. So. Um. What do you say we touch base on this one in a few decades?”

He pouted. “At least can you give me some hand relief?”

She glanced at the imaginary watch on her wrist. “Goodness, look at the time! We must start the day. What’s the best way to awaken your sisters?”

Sullenly, Friedrich said, “Turn them into Vampires, for all I care.”

Which is exactly what Maria did.

Later that morning, while Liesl sharpened her front fangs with a fingernail file, and while Friedrich transformed back and forth from bat to human, and while Kurt wandered around the kitchen looking for something to eat, Louisa, Farta, Brigitta, and Gretl lay on the lawn, staring blankly into outer space, the bite marks on their respective necks trickling a thin stream of blood. After a few minutes, their wounds closed, leaving a shilling-sized splotch, and several minutes after that, they each sat up, at once paler and more beautiful than they had ever been.

Maria gave the newly undead foursome a benevolent smile. “Welcome, children. Welcome to my family. You’re now in a family that I believe you will find to be more nurturing and fulfilling to you than your own.”

They said nothing.

“Now I understand you may be confused,” Maria said, “but I’m here to help you. If you have any questions, I’ll answer them. If you need some advice, it shall be given. Think of me as your Mother.”

With a flat tone, Louisa said, “Our Mother is dead.”

Maria nodded. “That she is, Louisa, that she is.” She paused, then smiled. “But the good news is that you now have one
dead
mother, and one
undead
mother! Now how about you turn those frowns upside down, and let’s go and have some fun.”

“I don’t like any of this one bit,” Farta said, touching the gash on her neck. “I feel dreadful. So cold. So very, very cold.”

The bat version of Friedrich touched down directly in front of Farta, then morphed back into the Friedrich version of Friedrich. “You get used to it pretty quickly,” he said. “It’s …
nice
.”

Liesl said, “He’s right, Farta. Quit complaining. Embrace it. It isn’t like our life was so exciting before all this.”

Kurt wandered out the front door, munching on a raw steak. “Liesl has a point. What’s fun for us? Nothing. Father is a drunk. Frau Alice and Alfred are
arschlochs
…”

“Especially Frau Alice,” Brigitta said. “Why does she keep calling me Marcia Marcia Marcia?”

“… and all the shopkeepers in town have guns now,” Kurt continued, “so we have no place left to rob or vandalize. Our clothes make us look like fools. And except for Liesl, none of us have any friends, and her only friend is a nancy-boy…”

“Rolfe is no longer my friend,” Liesl said, looking in the direction of the destroyed gazebo.

“… so we should make the most of it,” Kurt continued. “Maria will show us what to do. Right?”

Maria beamed. “That’s right, Kurt. I love you most of all! Now children, all of you gather ’round! We’re going to show off your new state of being to the world! We shall frolic about the town! How does that sound?”

Liesl said, “Frolicking?
Frolicking?
That sounds simply horrible.”

“I knew you would all love it, I just
knew
it!” Maria said. After she picked up her saxophone case, she said, “Follow me,” then skipped toward the front gate.

None of the children moved a muscle. After ten skip-steps, Maria came to a screeching halt. “Are you coming, brats?” she asked.

Brigitta said, “That depends on where we’re going.”

“We’re going out and about! Hither and yon! Here and there! And we’re going to sing!”

Friedrich winced. “Ugh. Why?”

“Because,” Maria explained, “singing soothes the soul.”

Gretl raised her hand. “Governess?”

Maria rolled her eyes and thought,
Here we go again
. “Yes, Gretl?”

“I might be mistaken about this—and correct me if I’m wrong—but I believe that Vampires have no souls to soothe.”

Why did I make her undead when I could have killed her outright?
Maria wondered, then took a deep breath, went to her happy place, and said, “We can do things other than sing.”

“Like what?” Kurt asked.

“Well, er, frolic.”

“You mentioned frolicking,” Louisa said, “and nobody was impressed.”

Friedrich grinned, his fangs shining in the morning sun. “I think we should test out our new Vampire powers. We might need them someday.”

“That’s foreshadowing if I’ve ever heard it,” Gretl mumbled. The tiny turd was ignored.

Maria said, “Okay, brats, you win. No singing. Just Vampire exercises.”

Gretl clapped her hands. “Oh, goody! That’s the best news I’ve ever…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Liesl shoved her to the ground and said, “Shut it, sunshine.” To Maria, she said, “So which way do we go?”

“This way,” Maria said, skipping speedily, her saxophone case banging against her legs. The children followed. None of them skipped. Eventually they ended up in the Salzburg business district, a bustling area filled with newfangled automobiles, horse-drawn carriages, and mortals who looked mighty tasty to the von Trapp Vampire brood.

Gazing hungrily at the masses, Louisa asked Maria, “Can we feast?”

Maria looked aghast. “Heavens no, Louisa. The repercussions of daytime mangling—especially in the middle of the busiest section in town—would be unspeakable…”

Liesl whispered under her breath, “The Nazi Undeath Squads might get us.”

“… so if you’re hungry, we must eat human food.”

Rubbing his jiggly belly, Kurt said, “Works for me.”

Maria skipped and the children trudged to an outdoor market, where the town’s farmers were hawking their wares. Maria nodded a greeting to one of the farmers, then snatched up three tomatoes from his wooden baskets. “Watch me, children,” she said, then juggled the tomatoes … for six seconds … before she dropped them and they splattered all over the streets.

The farmer glared at Maria. “Are you planning to pay for those, Skippy?”

Maria pointed at her cat suit. “I’m afraid this outfit doesn’t have any pockets in which to house coins. And I have not yet received my first paycheck, so I don’t have any coins to put in there anyhow. Can I come back tomorrow and reimburse you?”

Sneering, the farmer said, “I’m not letting you out of my sight until you pay for those vegetables.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Two shillings, please.”

Maria said, “I don’t have it.”

“Then get it. I’ve got a family to feed.” Maria thought she heard him say,
Whore
, but that might have been her ears playing tricks on her.

“If you don’t behave yourself,” Maria hissed, “I’ll do some feeding myself.” And then she showed the farmer her fangs. The farmer backed up a few steps, knocking over baskets of tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and strawberries. Maria said to the farmer, “So are we good here?”

Nodding eagerly, the farmer said, “We’re wonderful here.” He picked up a tomato. “Take this as a token of my apology.”

Maria beamed. “Why thank you, sir! What a lovely gesture.” She handed the tomato to Louisa. “If I’m not mistaken, you mentioned that you were hungry, darling?”

“Not for this,” Louisa said, before hurling the tomato into the farmer’s face.

Breathing heavily, the farmer reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a gun. “Get out of my sight, all of you,” he whispered.

Maria laughed. “We’ll get out of your sight, sir, because we’re a polite group, but for future reference, guns basically have no effect on our kind.” Again, she bared her teeth and hissed, then added, “You have a lovely day!”

As the clan walked away, Gretl turned around and growled at the farmer. For the first time in his life, Friedrich simultaneously put his arm around his little sister and smiled.

Once they were away from the masses, Maria said, “Please, children, please can we please skip? It would mean ever so much to me!”

Friedrich turned to his siblings and said, “For the love of
Gott,
let’s skip just so she’ll shut up about it already.”

With the biggest (and falsest) of smiles, the kids joined hands and skipped, and skipped, and skipped until Farta screeched to a halt and said, “Does anybody else hear music, or is it just me?”

The brats all stopped skipping, after which Kurt asked, “What kind of music?”

Farta closed her eyes. “Horns, and strings, and drums. It’s jaunty, almost happy. Perfect for a montage. And frankly, it’s painful. It hurts my soul.”

Gretl said, “You have no soul.”

“Forget the awful montage music,” Maria said, “for there’s more skipping to be done!” She pointed to the north. “Look, brats, a flatbed truck! Let’s jump on and let it take us where it will!”

The children groaned. “Can we go home?” Brigitta whined. “If we can’t dine on human flesh, what’s the point of being out?”

Friedrich said, “Vampire exercises, remember?”

“We can do Vampire exercises in our yard,” Brigitta said. “The smell of flesh out here is dizzying, and if I can’t indulge, I’ll explode.”

Maria said, “The truck will drive us away from these people. Skip with me!”