Nightlight (8 page)

“So, Belle, what’s new today?”

“Dad,” I said, grasping his hands and looking directly
into his eyes. “I’m in the deepest love that has ever occurred in the history of the world.”

“Gosh, Belle. When someone asks you, ‘What’s new?’ the correct answer is, ‘not much.’ Besides, isn’t it a little soon to cut yourself off from the rest of your peers, depending on a boyfriend to satisfy your social needs as opposed to making friends? Imagine what would happen if something forced that boy to leave! I’m imagining pages and pages would happen—with nothing but the names of the month on them.”

“If Edwart ever left, I’d find some other monster to hang out with. You know I don’t like real people. I have no social skills,” I said. “I guess I’m kind of like my dad in that way.” I smiled generously. I wasn’t usually this emotional with him, and it felt good.

My mind shifted to my main concern. I needed him out of the house—parents were so lame when boyfriends came over. I had lots of experience with this back in Phoenix, where my mom would leave the house whenever a boy came over, forcing
me
to find some way to entertain him when
she
was the one who had invited him in the first place.

“Hey Dad,” I said. “Why don’t you go fishing?”

“Yeah, I think I’m supposed to go fishing today. Wasn’t that today? I thought that was today. I forget.”

“It was today,” I said, military-strategistly, “Why don’t you try the farther fishing place? That way, you would get home later.”

“That sounds like a pretty good idea to me!” he said. “Maybe I’ll take that wheelchair friend along with me. I like
going fishing all day when you’re home,” he said as he walked out. “I’m not used to sharing a house with another person. It’s exhausting!”

So that was that. Jim was out of the house, and he didn’t mind that I was planning to see Edwart. No one else could know we were going on a date, though. I needed to protect Edwart in case anything happened. Still, I had never gone out with such a hot guy before, so I sent a vague e-mail to the whole grade saying, “Edwart Mullen and Belle Goose Are Totally Together.”

All of a sudden, I heard a knock on the door. I peeped through the peakhole, which is what my mom and I call the peephole because the word “peep” gives her the giggle fits.

It was Edwart
.

“Just a sec!” I called, grabbing a few magazines and heading towards the bathroom. “I have to do some human things.”

The bathroom is where I keep the juicer. I juiced some grapefruit onto my veins to get my characteristic, extra-yummy blood scent.

“Belle,” he said when I finally opened the front door.

“Edwart,” I replied, demonstrating that I, too, had spent an hour in my room, memorizing his name.

All of a sudden, he began to laugh. Had I said something funny? Had he? How long had I been spacing out for, slowly growing conscious that my fate was in the hands of a group of college kids who’d kill me off just for a laugh.
Little did they realize that I was organizing a revolt
.

“We’re wearing the same clothes,” he said. And it was true. He was also wearing a white button-down shirt—in fact, a woman’s button-down. He, too, was wearing a hair clip that looked kind of girly. I laughed with him, then stopped when I saw he looked better than me, then laughed once more because all I wanted was for him to be happy.

“Let’s go, Belle. There’s something I want to show you.”

“Where are we going?”

“Someplace
risky.”

“Italy?” I asked knowledgably. Despite the fact that Italians are known for their tan skin and garlic-laden cuisine, I knew from my research that the most powerful vampire family had decided to live there forever.

“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously. “Oh, and Belle? I think it would be wise for you to change into some sturdier shoes.”

I looked down at my feet. Sturdier than my flame-resistant space galoshes? I guess I had a pair of hiking boots.

“You never know what’s lurking beyond acres and acres of grassy plateau…” he added, dropping another cryptic hint. “You’re also going to need an oxygen tank, a tent, an afternoon’s worth of rations and your own sherpa.
We’re climbing Deadman’s Mound.”

I shuddered. Every part of my body told me not to go on this adventure—every part but my heart, which really needed the exercise.

“But Edwart, I don’t have any of those things.”

“Neither do I, Belle.” He took a step forward and I
breathed in his musky, Axe-drenched scent. “Without oxygen, I’ll not only be a danger to myself up there. I’ll be a liability to
you.”

He paused. I widened my eyes in fear, a good way to cover up an awkward silence that you’re unsure how to fill.

“Do you see how risky this is?” he continued. “Me bringing you up there, without taking any safety precautions such as my anxiety medication? You, responsible for my actions for the rest of the afternoon?” He swayed woozily.

I nodded with resolve. “My emotional well-being depends on you too much to be away from you.”

“Thank God,” he said. “I wished you had told me that before I flushed my meds down the toilet, though. I really wished you had told me that before.” He tossed me a tiny hammock. “If at any point while we are hiking I crawl into the vegetation or other nookish space, just sling that around your shoulder and cradle me for a while.”

I put it in my purse and unlocked my truck. I stepped up to open the door and immediately fell down.
So
Belle.

“You seem exhausted,” Edwart said as we got in the car.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Neither could I,” he said as we sped off.

“Yeah, those night leeches are becoming a major concern, aren’t they.”

“Oh, Belle,” he laughed softly, “When you talk like that, I become afraid, and if you continue to do so, I will feel compelled to tell the authorities.” His laugh was like the jingle of a thousand manly sirens.

I pulled into the parking lot at the end of our block.

“Here we are,” I announced. “The Deadman trailhead.” I jumped out of the car, inflated my core stability ball and started my stretches.

“Will your dad be okay if we hike off the trail?” Edwart asked. “On this road?”

“What Jim doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” I flopped my stomach onto the ball and did the stretch where you let it go wherever it wants.

“You didn’t inform your dad where you would be? Geez, Belle! I don’t know how much of this risk-taking I can take!” He started wheezing and his nose gushed with blood.

“Great. And now this,” he said in the nasal voice of Alvin the Chipmunk, holding his nose.

I brought him over to the ball and propped his head against it.

“What if you didn’t come home before dinnertime?” he continued to chastise. “What if Jim didn’t make an extra plate of dinner for you because he thought you already ate?
Then
where would you be?”

“He knows I’m with you.”

“Fat lot of use that’ll be when we’re marooned on the road.
Forever
. It’s a good thing my parents inserted a chip in my arm that tells them where I am and lists the possible ways I could go missing.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, but I wasn’t really. When guys gnash their teeth and knit their brows in a broody, furious expression, it means they have found their soul mate. Plus,
his anger had set off his overactive sweat glands, causing him to tear off his shirt. As he stood up to march down the road, squatting here and there to examine the terrain, the musculature of his arms wobbled like string cheese.

In the sky was a single cloud, thin and disc-like, precisely covering the sun. I looked over at Edwart. It occurred to me that I had never seen him in direct sunlight. Interestingly enough, I had also never seen him sparkle. Could the two be related? I had a theory that sunlight drastically alters a vampire’s appearance; much like green lighting makes them appear sickly.

“Ready when you are,” I called, peeling off a layer in the hot (but significantly not bright) heat. Edwart turned and I screamed. Yet again, he was wearing the same top as me—a white, skinny-strapped camisole. How hadn’t I noticed that until he turned around? Sometimes, the cape my imagination constantly projects onto his back distorts how I perceive reality.

Still, Edwart had made some improvements. He had cut the shirt down the middle and applied a zipper, which he now zipped down to his belly button. His bared flesh gleamed translucent, revealing the blue veins beneath his two-haired chest. The shirt fit perfectly to his concave belly, outlining every protruding rib-bone and leaving nothing to the imagination. His neck radiated like a god from all the rhinestones he had glued to the top’s neckline. I looked down at my plain, zipperless camisole. I was beginning to weary of Edwart’s competitive method of wooing.
We’ll see
who wins the potato sack race
, I though maliciously. I had been practicing for years.

“Let’s go,” he said. We began to hike up the road on Deadman’s Mound. The road circled and circled around the sloping woods, past and re-past the straight, sloping trail. In the woods we saw some beetles and worms. I mention this because now that mammals have fled what little nature grows near civilization, we have to get excited about the small things.

Edwart kept on referring to his map so we wouldn’t get lost. When we did get lost, he had the clarity of mind to pull out his tent so we could set up camp for the night. Then I took out my binoculars and spotted the top of the hill, twenty yards to our left. We trekked onwards until the road came to an abrupt stop in the middle of a field. A car rambled up, stopped, and made a twelve-point turn. I skipped to the middle of the field and continued skipping around and around. Never had I felt freer. Never had I belted
The Sound of Music
louder. It was beautiful. There were glorious weeds everywhere, and those yellow flowers that when you blow on them disappear into white flakes. It was magical. And yet, it looked strangely familiar.

“Is this my backyard?” I asked.

Edwart stood, leaning against a tree in the woods bordering the meadow. “No, Belle. We’re at least five minutes from your house.”

“Oh,” I replied. I was so bad at approximation. It was a foreign situation, but it all felt oddly familiar, so familiar that I guesstimated that millions of girls around the world
could identify with it. Suddenly shy, I peered over at Edwart, who was lurking in the shade, watching me prostrate in obeisance to the eight wind spirits.

“Isn’t there something you wanted to show me?” I reminded him. “Something about
Price Elasticity?”
I asked, his gorgeous sunlight transformation.

“Oh! Right. Close your eyes and count to a hundred.”

I closed my eyes and counted extra slowly, in Mississippis. Then I got distracted and started thinking about Mississippi. Were there vampires in Mississippi? Was there rain? For a brief second, I forgot what number came after 79.

After I had counted to a hundred ten times, starting over again every time Edwart shrieked, “Not ready yet,” I opened my eyes and shielded them against the sun, now significantly exposed in the clear sky. What I saw bewildered me. Edwart was standing in the middle of the field, glistening. His skin had transformed into a shade of fire-engine red, and the sweat dripping from his every pore intensified the illusion that his head was a shiny tomato.

In his hand was a shovel and at his feet was a hole.

“This is what I want to show you,” he said.

“I’m already familiar with beetles,” I said, expertly popping one into my mouth.

“Listen, Belle. This is a secret that I can only entrust to you.” He stooped down into the hole and wrestled out a man-sized android. “Are you scared yet?”

“No. It’s beautiful.” I took a step forwards to touch its arm. Edwart stiffened.

“Sorry,” he said.” I wasn’t prepared for your movement. When you’re around androids all day, you get used to controlling when and how people move. This whole human interaction thing, well … it’s going to take some getting used to.”

“That’s all right.” So I was the only human Edwart had contact with. I stepped towards it more slowly, trying to do humanity justice. “What is it, exactly?”

“It’s a solar-powered, anatomically correct android. I keep it in this bright, secluded meadow so it can charge openly without fearing that rivals in the annual Robotics Competition will kidnap it. After I turn it off, I bury it out of respect.”

“What does it do?”

“Allow me to demonstrate.” He turned it on and the robot’s eyes glowed red. It stood up slowly, each joint clicking into place. When it reached its full height, its head spun towards me. Then it collapsed back on the floor like a punctured soufflé before slowly beginning to rise again.

“That’s it? It just falls over and gets back up over and over?”

“Yep—look at it struggle. Look how many synthetic muscles it has to use. The human body is an extraordinary thing.” He took my hand. “Feel how smooth I’ve made its skin.”

As he pulled my hand, I leaned in, mesmerized by Edwart’s face. My lips drew closer to his heavily braced mouth.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

Edwart was rolling away on the ground, arms outstretched like a rolling pin. My fast actions had caught him off guard again.

“It’s my fault,” he yelped, still rolling. “I can’t kiss you until we’re officially going out. It’s part of ‘The Rules.’” He stopped rolling and sat up, his breath rattling in his chest as he heaved. “Isabelle. Isa. Izzy. Belly-Belle. Will you go out with me? I don’t mean physically go out—we can stay inside and work on a website that promotes this robot all you want. I mean hypothetically. Like, if you were to go outside with someone, to a place, that person would be me. And that place would be an arcade.”

I looked into his eyes and saw the one thing he couldn’t say:
Every moment I look at you it takes all the discipline I can muster not to take you in my arms and drink from the fount of your throat
.

“I’m not afraid of you, Isa-Edwart,” I said, speaking his full name as softly as he had said mine.

“Still? You’re still not afraid of me? I assure you—I am an incredibly scary guy!” He stood there for a minute, thinking, then jogged across the field.