Go Get Dressed

      “It’s not only because he’s there, it’s just….” My chest tightened and the words just stopped. Tears poured down slowly onto my chin and then silently dropped into my lap. My hands were folded tightly and the back of my hand felt wet from it—the loss coming out in salty release. Marlene just stared at me sympathetically, her icy blue eyes examining mine.

“Listen, remember how I told you what he did to me as child? The whole pond story? Ya know, almost drowning?”

      She nodded yes and placed her hands over mine. They were ice cold.

      “Well that’s only one of many times he tried to kill me or hurt me for fun. I’ve stayed away from him for years because having him in my life in any way just, it just, I can’t be—” My throat tightened like a cinched cord and I fought silently to breathe and be able to swallow. My heart pounded in my ears and chest. I couldn’t meet her eyes. My mind started to replay some of the worst moments of my life with my father and I didn’t really want to have a panic attack here with someone I hadn’t known a long time.

Marlene took a hand-off of mine to reach next to me for a tissue. She handed it to me and I wiped my face and cheeks with it. Her voice was even and oddly calm as she spoke next. “Take some deep breaths Aspen. In and then out. Get control,” she breathed and counted until I joined her. “Count as you breath in one and out two.” I breathed deep and closed my eyes. Her voice was oddly mesmerizing. The flashbacks stopped.

“What if he weren’t at the viewing and the funeral? What if he just didn’t show up at all?” She spoke slowly to me. In very measured words as I tried to breathe. “What if you had the power to keep him from coming?”

None of this made any sense to me. My breathing slowed a little and my throat opened up. Keep him from attending his own father’s funeral? There was nothing on earth that would keep him away. He didn’t have power of attorney, my grandfather had to seen to that but he wouldn’t sit this one out no matter what their relationship was like.

“What do you mean ‘keep him from coming’? What exactly are we talking about?”

Marlene put her ice-cold hand under my chin and lifted my eyes to hers. I never realized just how pale she was before this moment. Pale and cold. And her eyes are a truly unique color of blue—like my favorite crayon color as a kid—what was it? Sky blue, robin egg, no--cerulean. How had I not noticed these things? Maybe because it was always after work at the bar in the dark? Her black hair looked like a raven’s wing in the light—black with shades of blue. Was this the first time I really looked at her?

“What I’m saying is that I can help you go to your grandfather’s funeral and more than that. I can get rid of your father for you. If what you tell me is true the world won’t miss him.” She stared at me, her eyes almost glowing.

I stood up suddenly and walked across the room to look out of my living room window. The moon was rising, and the sky was clear. Moonlight was reflecting off the rooftops and across the snowy branches and yards. I turned from the window to the stand.

Me, my sister, brother, and mother, looked back at me from a silver frame. The picture was out of focus, but it was clear we were happy. It was one of the many times we had gone on the run from my dad. We made it two states away into Pennsylvania. My mom had taken the picture at a Taco Bell somewhere outside of Pittsburgh. It was the only picture from that roll that turned out.

The next day my dad found us and broke my mom’s arm at the campground where we were staying. He shoved us all into his car and had his friend drive my mom’s car. To cover what he did to my mom he ran a stop sign hoping for small accident but instead my mother was killed instantly when we were t-boned by a tow truck. The camera had been thrown from my moms purse and out the window. I had crawled out the open window of the car and across the hot asphalt and glass to grab it.

No one else was seriously injured.

We were back at the farm a week later.

I cleaned my blood and glass off the camera and had my friend get the pics developed. All I had left of my mother was that picture. My dad removed everything of my mother’s from the house and destroyed it. That picture had traveled with me for years in secret before I was able to display it on that stand.

Marlene was right.

No one would miss my dad.

My mother on the other hand? I missed her every day since the murder. I put the picture back down and turned to look at Marlene.

“What do you mean you can get rid of my father? The viewing is tonight and tomorrow, and the funeral and wake is on Saturday.” Our eyes locked. “Isn’t what we’re talking about illegal anyway?”

Marlene walked over to me. “Let me worry about that Aspen. At this point I’m well versed in dealing with law enforcement,” she said matter-of-factly. “There won’t be much for the law to deal with anyway. I’ve been at this for centuries.” Centuries? Wait what the what now?

“Ever notice how we only hang out after work at night? And how I never get drunk no matter how much Fireball we drink? Or how people just do what I want?” She walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a metal poker. Then she bent it in half right in front of me and then bent it back and hung it back up. It was swinging back and forth while I absorbed what she had just done. We only see each other at night. Centuries. Bending a goddamn fire poker.

My eyes jumped over to my bookshelf, latching on to the Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice.

Then back to the poker still gently swinging.

Then her unusually bright eyes and pale skin again.

She had a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  A vampire? I mean really? Is she really a…vampire? Like in the books I’ve read? It can’t be. Those are fiction not real. I mean, we hang out at night because we work the late shift—right? Of course, we have never made plans during the day. Really though? A vampire? Like a real--

“The Vampire Chronicles got most of what I am right. And they are my favorite of all the books written about my kind for sure,” she turned and pulled The Vampire Lestat off the shelf and thumbed through it. “Always made me wonder if Anne knew some of us in real life. I’d love to meet Lestat—I have so many questions.”

She put the book back on the shelf and turned toward me. I stepped back. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m too old to need to feed on anyone at this point and especially not you. Trauma tastes horrible anyway. It’s so damn bitter.”

Oh, then I guess I should relax and ignore the fact that my coworker is a vampire and that she’s standing in my living room and that my trauma would be too bitter to drink. Ok she has a point there. I sat down pretty hard on the couch. My heart was pounding for a whole different set of reasons now.

“Aspen I can hear your heart slamming in your chest. I’m not going to hurt you. Your dad, on the other hand, I have no problem killing. I’ve known people like him over the last thousand years and I’ve learned to kill them because they rarely change." She stepped back and looked out the window and tapped her fingers on the windowsill. I watched in real-time as her nails grew long and the tapping got more pointed. She was faintly silhouetted in moonlight.

“I rather enjoy removing them from humanity. Sometimes I think I was created for it."

“Why are you willing to do this for me? You don’t even know me that well. Vampires aren’t generally known in books for their hospitality and goodwill—at least not unless they are getting something in exchange.”

“Well,” she said, fingers still tapping as she looked out the window, “I’m not a book character Aspen. I’m at an age where I can be as generous as I want. My kind doesn’t always make it this long but when we do, the perspective we get is rarely of the vindictive kind. There’s nothing a human could offer me anyway.”

My father dead at the hands of a vampire. I forgave him a long time ago but that doesn’t mean he should evade justice. I’ve seen the bruises on his new wife in pictures on social media. Maybe this is what the world needs. What I need. What my mother needed. Maybe all abused people need a Marlene. I know one simple thing, I want to attend my grandfather’s funeral and I can’t with him there. Grandpa was the only one who could restrain that monster. Well, that is, until now.

And just like that the fate of my father was sealed. How often had I wished him dead as a child? And now a freaking vampire walks into my life and offers to do it within the hour?

My breathing is even right now. How about that? I actually feel good.

“How will you do it?” I asked.

“Aspen you don’t want to know everything. I will tell you I don’t make it pleasant for people like him and since I know you it’s going to be excruciating for him. There will be joint dislocation just for starters.” Her nails retreated and she turned around. “I honestly have no guilty feelings toward killing these psychopaths and sociopaths. They wreck people’s lives. I can’t see your memories, but I can feel them,” she sighed long and deep. “He will reap what he has sowed.”

She crossed the room again and sat next to me. “These predators prey on others, so I prey on them. I’ve killed a good many serial killers so this will be easy-peasy.” She grabbed my hands and held them in hers. Smooth and cold as the ice on the pond behind our house as a child. Smooth and chilled like marble.

Killing my dad will be easy-peasy. Good god what is happening?

She gave my hands a squeeze.

“Get ready for the viewings. You go grieve your grandfather and I’ll take care of the rest of it. I’ll be by for the viewing tomorrow night.” She stood up and was gone in a flash.

Guess there’s no need to hide anything anymore.

I went upstairs and got a shower and picked out a dress.