Rescuing the Dead

My mouth fell open as a wooden coffin floated past my boat. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but nope—there it was!

A sudden wave prodded the coffin against the hull with a heavy thump. I hope it didn't scrape my Irony!

With no one around for miles, I managed to wrangle the coffin onto the diving platform of my small boat after an exhausting thirty-five minutes of pushing and pulling.

I slumped down on the floor, my muscles aching from the strain of rescuing this…what? A stupid coffin? Someone's dead relative? How did it happen? Had it fallen off a ship during transport?

Secretly, I hoped it was filled with a mountain of cash. Drug money lost at sea that had drifted to me! Or at the very least I should get offered a reward for finding it. I sure could use it right now. I lost my job a few weeks ago, and Irony was all I had left. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on my wet arms.

"Hello!" a muffled cry jarred me into a sitting position.

My eyes scanned the ocean.

"Hello!" A pounding noise came from the coffin.

"Hello?" I said, panicked. "Uh, hang in there! I'll get you out!" I looked around for something—anything to pry off the lid.

"No…don't open! Not if it's bright!"

"What?"

"I think I'm allergic to the sun!"

She thinks? "Are you a vampire or something?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact, I am!"

#

It took me a while to come up with a plan to get the woman out. I found a black tarp inside of one of the compartments and draped it over the coffin, but not before plucking the nails off of the lid with a hammer from my toolkit. I also had some duct tape which I used to seal some of the holes on the tarp.

My plan was to lift the lid off the coffin forming a tent-like space so that the woman could crawl out and use the tarp to make our way into the windowless, cool cabin.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yes!” she said.

Everything was going smoothly until we started moving toward the cabin. One edge of the tarp lifted and light escaped inside our make-shift tent. The woman began to howl in pain as she rushed inside the cabin. 

I took a good look at her once we were inside the room. The woman looked a little younger than me, thirty maybe, with a dark, red pixie-style hair. She plopped down on my bunk, holding her right ankle, which was sunburned.

“I have a first-aid kit somewhere,” I said, darting a gaze at the door.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll get better in a few minutes.”

I shrugged. “Uh, okay. Are you thirsty? Hungry? I’ve got water, iced tea, and beer. Some chips. A mango?”

She laughed. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“How can you be fine?”

She smirked. "'Cause I’m a vampire, remember?”

I stared at her incredulous. “What makes you think you’re a vampire?”

“What day is it?” she asked.

“Tuesday, July ninth.”

“Wow!” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve been in that coffin for five days!”

“No way. There’s no way you could’ve survived that!”

“Exactly!” 

I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but this isn’t funny.”

She frowned. “You think I’m lying?”

I shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. You’re a stranger after all.”

“I’m not lying!”

“How’d you end up inside a coffin then?”

She clamped her mouth shut.

I crossed my arms and waited. “Come on.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Come on. Spill.” 

“I shouldn’t.”

“Let me guess. You’re were captured in an African jungle and brought back to Florida on that vessel.”

She eyed me with disdain.

“You’re a Russian spy on a secret mission.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re—”

“Stop it! I am a vampire!”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t know how to prove it!”

“Because you’re not one!”

“I was bitten five days ago right here!” she said, pointing to her neck.

I smirked. “I don’t see fang marks.”

She tossed her head back, frustrated. “Look. Here’s what happened. I was on a lavish yacht serving some bigwigs. I stepped in on something I wasn’t supposed to see. Someone bit me after that and shoved me in a coffin. That’s all I remember.”

“What did you see?” 

She bit her lips shut again.

“Come on, tell me!”

“A dead senator!” she blurted.

#

I left the cabin to grab a beer from the cooler on the deck.

She said her name was Kelly Bryant. She was a server on a yacht where there was a big fancy party. Then she saw a dead senator on the floor, blood everywhere. Some bigwig bit her and shoved her into a coffin.

What a crazy story!

I took a swig of my beer, contemplating on steering Irony to the nearest looney bin.

Bruno Mars sang from the radio as I stepped back into the cabin. Kelly slid out from under the tarp she now used as a blanket.

“Brought you some water,” I said.

“No thanks, I’m not thirsty,” she replied.

“That’s right.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.

She sighed. “If I could make my fangs pop out for you I would. Maybe when I get hungry.”

“Five days and you aren’t hungry yet?”

She shrugged. “Didn’t eat much when I was human. It’ll take a lot of ambition for me to consider eating you, Ken.”

I stared at her anew. “I think it’s time I head home. I might have some raw meat in the fridge.”

“Sorry, it’ll have to be fresh.”

I winced. “All right then. My neighbor has a lot of cats.”

“I’m allergic to cats.”

I grinned. “Trust me; if you become ravenous, a cat will probably look and taste like steak!”

She grinned back. “Or a man like you.”

My smile faded. Should I bring her back with me?

#

It was evening by the time we made it to my apartment. No tarp was necessary in the dark. Good thing since my neighbor, Ms. Perth—the cat lady, was eyeballing us behind the drapes.

I told Kelly to make herself at home once we were inside the apartment.

Kelly’s mouth fell open when she noticed all the wooden chessmen pieces on the collection of chessboards in my living room.

“Your collection is amazing,” she said.

“Of course. I made them myself.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Wow! Do you play too?”

I grinned. “You bet!”

She took an intricately carved wooden queen in her hand and admired it. “You certainly have a good eye for detail, Ken.”

Kelly insisted that she would sleep in the bathtub since there weren't any windows in the bathroom. 

Remarkably, she and I weren’t tired, so we stayed up and played several games of chess.

“What do you do for a living?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I was a banker until two weeks ago. They fired me because a chunk of money missing from one of our accounts.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Kelly said.

I poured some more red wine for myself. Kelly eyed it like a parched animal. Forty-five minutes later we’re kissing on my couch like old lovers.

She fell asleep in my arms, snoring softly. I’ll carry her to the bathtub later before the sun rises.

A few hours later, I woke up with a start, but Kelly was gone.

 #

I couldn’t find my lucky sock. Stupid, I know, but I have a job interview today, and one of my red-trimmed black socks was missing.

Kelly Bryant. I wonder where she had run off to last night. We had a good time, and I’d love to see her again. 

In the kitchen, I made coffee. Then I found a note on the refrigerator: “Thanks, Ken. You’re my hero. I will never forget you. Going after my killer, now. Love, K."

Killer? That’s right. If Kelly still believed she was a vampire, I suppose someone did kill her. The same someone who put her in a coffin—some wealthy politician. I wouldn’t be surprised. Look at what the rich did to me.

I shook my head. Perhaps it was all some sort of prank. But she certainly hadn’t acted dead last night, which meant she probably belonged in an institution. I closed my eyes. Sighed. 

I had dodged a bullet.

A half-hour before my interview and still no sock. Screw it.

I opened the door and immediately heard someone wailing below. I rushed down the stairs. Ms. Perth was crouched down over her doormat, her back to me.

“You okay, Ms. Perth?” I asked.

“Oh, no!” she cried.

“Ms. Perth?” 

“Who did this?” 

“Did what?” I asked.

Ms. Perth stood up and moved to the side so I could see.

A mangled cat. Might’ve been black. Might’ve been white. Hard to tell because it was matted down with blood.

I was speechless.