A Thanksgiving Feast

Alex Serafino-Fox had known better than to go to her hometown for her family’s Thanksgiving that year. After the events that had transpired the previous year, she had promised herself she would never go again. But if she could count on her family for one thing, it was their refusal to leave her alone. Her mother, grandmother, aunts, everyone, had called her multiple times to insist she attend, refusing to take no for an answer. So there she was, standing on the doorstep of a gaudy second empire style house in the Bostonian suburbs. She peered through the ruby red stained glass windows in the door to see if anyone was coming to let her inside. Just when she was about to ring the doorbell again, she saw her little grandmother shuffling down the hall in her large, fluffy robe. 

She opened the door. “Well come in! My God, I thought you just weren’t coming tonight, it’s so late. Come now, get in.” As the old woman practically shoved her inside, she opened her mouth to insist that it was only about half past eight, but decided not to challenge her grandmother.

“Yeah, I could only get a night train from the city, sorry Nonna,” she said. The house was large, old, and at the moment, quite dark. This place had always felt so mysterious when she was younger, she couldn’t help but feel like dark things were lingering in the shadows.

“That’s okay, cara, always glad to have you home,” she said, squinting at her in the dark. “I’m off to bed again, but I think some of them are still up. You’ll be in the pink room as usual, and there’s a space heater in there if you get cold.”

“Okay. Thank you, Nonna, goodnight.” 

 “And there’s food in the kitchen if you want a bite.”

“Yes, thank you, Nonna.” Her grandmother ascended the stairs, and Alex deposited her suitcase at the foot of the stairs to carry up later. If she listened, she could hear the sound of voices in the living room. She wasn’t quite ready to face the rest of her family, or for the traditional teasing and invasive questions she would be met with. 

She hadn’t seen any of her family since last Thanksgiving. The holidays were hardly some big reunion, practically everyone in her family lived within an hour of each other and visited frequently. Alex didn’t know where the line between close-knit and codependent fell when it came to family, but she knew her’s had crossed it many times over.  

“Alexandra, hello cuore mio, welcome home.” Alex jumped. Perhaps she had been deep in thought, as she hadn’t noticed her grandfather approaching her. He was usually quite noisy when he walked around, often employing a cane to keep him upright, but she could tell he was managing perfectly fine on his own tonight. 

“Hi, Nonno! What are you doing awake?” 

“You know your Nonna always does so much for Thanksgiving. I’ve just been getting things ready so she has less to do tomorrow,” he said.

“Aww, that’s sweet Nonno.” And unlike him. “Is she doing alright?”

“Oh, sure she is. I just figured she should get some good sleep tonight.”

“That’s right,” she said. She simply stood for a second and looked at him. He looked healthy, and Alex thought bitterly of the guilt trips her mother had tortured her with when she had confessed she did not intend on coming to this year's Thanksgiving. Your grandparents are not as young as they once were and they won’t live forever, you know… but her grandfather seemed younger than he had in years. 

“Well, I won’t keep you from getting off to bed,” he said.

“I was just about to go say hi to everyone first,” she said. “Who all is here?”

“Right now it’s only your mother, your cousins, your aunt and uncle. Everyone else is coming tomorrow,” he said. He looked at her suitcase on the floor next to her. “Do you want me to carry that up for you?”

“Oh, you shouldn’t Nonno, it’s heavy.” she said, but she watched as he picked up her suitcase like it weighed nothing.

“Per favore, I’m not dead yet.” He certainly wasn’t. She watched as he, quite satisfied with himself, carried her suitcase up the stairs and into the dark.

She followed the sound of voices and was soon greeted by the sight of her mother. People often told her that they looked alike, with their curly hair, large eyes, and short stature. Alex didn’t know if she agreed, but she had always hoped that some of her mother’s beauty was reflected in her own appearance. 

“So you did decide to show up,” her mother said, but she smiled as she wrapped her in a hug. Her cousins, Leo and Micheal, each greeted her as well. They all briefly claimed that they were doing well, that they were doing good in school or that work was the same as usual. 

Next she was greeted by her aunt and uncle. Her Uncle Jim never had much to say, simply giving her a brief hug before returning to the recliner to watch whatever action movie was playing. Her Aunt Maria hugged her too tight and proceeded to swarm her with questions. Then, of course, she proceeded to comment on Alex’s appearance, comparing it to the last time saw her. 

“Oh my, you look as if you’re hardly eating, you’re too thin!” She said, and Alex couldn’t help but think back to the many times she had said exactly the opposite. Her Aunt laughed a bit too hard, and Alex noticed the dark red stains on her lips.

“Someone as pretty as you, I bet you have men lined up,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve forgotten all about that neighbor boy by now.” Alex wondered if the misery on her face was completely obvious, because her mom swooped in and asked her sister if she would like another glass, and of course, she did. To avoid further conversation, she sat next to her cousins on the couch and pretended to be very interested in the last half hour of 2 Fast 2 Furious. Once the movie ended, they each bid each other goodnight and began shuffling off to their rooms.

“You’re in the pink room, right?” Her mother said. This room had been her mothers in her youth. It was easily the most eerie of the rooms in the house. “I’ll be in the room just across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks, mom. Goodnight,” she said, paying her a smile. Her mother looked her over before, almost hesitantly, returning the smile.

“I’m glad you came, Alex,” she said, looking into her eyes. Alex felt a swell of emotion, and wondered why her mom felt the need to guilt her further. She nodded, and that seemed to be a sufficient reaction, for her mother broke her gaze and fixed her eyes on the shadowy hallway before heading down it. 

She could never feel properly alone in her grandparents house, even in moments like this where everyone had gone off to bed. When she was younger, she’d go to extreme lengths to block out the antics of her family. She’d sleep in, she would hide out at the neighbors, she’d lock herself in the bathroom. Following a familiar path, she found her preferred hiding place.

The bathroom lights flickered with warm light when she turned them on. They used to have a cat who would stow away in here with her.\, she remembered her fondly. The wallpaper, dotted rather fittingly with drawings of kittens, was beginning to peel. The window above the bathtub was cracked open slightly, inviting a cold night breeze into the small room. Beside the door, perhaps too large for the space the small room provided, was a dark oak vanity. She had always thought it was beautiful, flowers carved across its drawers and surrounding the mirror like a halo. She stepped in front of it and lamented the loss of her reflection.

It was true, she had gotten thinner, and more beautiful - or at least, that was what she had been told. Among the many tragedies of becoming a vampire, was shifting into one’s most gorgeous state but never being able to see this transformation for one’s self. Alex had always felt like the ugly duckling of her beautiful family, so perhaps all the dangers of attending this family event would be worth it to flaunt her new beauty.

She wasn’t quite sure how to manage tomorrow. An Italian Catholic family’s Thanksgiving was hardly the place for a vampire. Since her transformation, she had admittedly become quite reclusive, largely from fear. There was hardly a guidebook for this sort of thing, and the online forums she had found were hardly reliable sources seeing as those who claimed to be “real-life vampires” often cited pieces of fiction in their advice. 

She knew from experience she could not withstand direct sunlight for more than a minute or so before her skin started to burn right off. Luckily, when she had checked the weather forecast, it looked like rain and clouds for the duration of the day. Luckily, she still seemed able to stomach human food. However, she knew she couldn’t have garlic, which was used in abundance in her family recipes. Her Aunts would probably whisper between themselves that she must have an eating disorder, and Alex would have to pretend that she didn’t have superhuman hearing. Then there was the matter of avoiding crosses and crucifixes, the inability to say grace, and of course, the challenge of controlling her appetite around humans, she couldn’t afford to be at anyone’s throat.

She stepped out of the bathroom; it was time to brave the bedroom. As a child, she would stay up all hours in hopes of catching a glimpse of anything that might go bump in the night. Back then, she and the neighbor’s son formed their own, two-person coven. They would toy with Ouija boards and attempt seances frequently in attempts to satisfy their mutual obsession with the occult. She wondered if the ghost of her human self just might haunt this very house, or if her soul was now too damned to escape her undead body.

She climbed the stairs, and walked all the way down to the end of the hall. She held her breath as she entered the room, but as she crossed the threshold she did not experience the usual mind-numbing pain that occurred in the presence of a cross. She craned her head to look at the top of the doorway, but found the crucifix missing. How odd. 

She closed the heavy door behind her. It was strange, even though she was now one of the creatures that went bump in the night, for the first time, she felt afraid to be in this room. The room painted a nauseatingly bright shade of pink, even when the lights were off they seemed to glow. The low, popcorn ceiling, also painted this shade of pink, always looked as if it was dripping. Vintage porcelain dolls lined the room, too valuable to throw out, but too creepy to use as decoration anywhere else. A small set of rickety stairs led to the attic, in Alex’s opinion, the scariest and most exciting part of the room. Bugs, huge bugs, often crawled from beneath the door as if they were escaping. She sometimes heard sounds, thumping or scratching, and though her mother ascribed it to the sound of tree branches in the wind, she always imagined it to be something more. Worst of all, the door was stuck, no one had been able to open it in decades. Her and Joey would trade terrifying stories about the monsters the attic might hold, and then laugh and sleep peacefully. Perhaps that was why she only now found the room so terrifying, she knew who the monsters were.

She made sure the curtains were pulled shut before crawling under the pink sheets. She missed being able to sleep, truly sleep, at night. It was like having vampiric venom-induced insomnia. She felt energy rushing through her corpse, and all it fueled were her anxieties. There was no telling what might happen at Thanksgiving tomorrow, or who would be there. She would have to remain patient, keep her temper in check - something she always failed to do even as a human. In order to quiet her mind, she set her alarm for nine a.m., and attempted to fall into a trance-like state.

***

She woke, before her alarm went off, to the sound of many voices downstairs. Her family always liked to eat Thanksgiving “dinner” egregiously early, so the house would be teaming with people well before noon. Since she didn’t really need sleep anyway, Alex got up and began to get ready. She got dressed and attempted to do what little make up she felt capable of doing without a mirror. While applying mascara, she heard an all too familiar voice and felt her hand jerk, smearing the black substance across her lid. 

Of course he was here, his family was practically her’s and vice versa. How many holidays had they spent running between each other’s houses. She had thought that, maybe after last year, he would do her the service of staying in his own home. But Joey was a creature of habit.

She practically stumbled down the stairs, this was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. Nearing the dining room, she heard angry, raised voices and was almost glad someone else’s Thanksgiving was also off to a rough start. Alex practically clung to the wall as she entered the room. The dining room and living room were filled with people. Her family was almost comically large, and her grandmother concerningly inviting; she wasn’t even sure she was related to half of these people. She vaguely heard one of her cousins attempt to greet her, but seeing Joey drowned out every too-loud voice. It seemed he saw her too, for he smiled as if nothing had changed. 

“Alex!” he said, and from the corner of her eye she saw her mother’s attention drawn to her. He crossed the room to approach her, and despite her now stellar reflexes, she found herself glued to the spot.

“Joey. I didn’t… expect you to be here,” was all she could think to say.

“Oh please, a Serafino Thanksgiving is tradition. Besides, my grandparents would drag me over here if I didn’t go on my own,” he said, still smiling as he glanced around the room. Indeed, she recognized his grandmother accompanying hers as they carried food to the table.

Alex noticed a handful of her family members eyeing her and Joey, probably because of the fiasco at last year’s. She had thought her childhood crush on the boy next door might result in some fairytale ending, until she woke up from their first night together with a scarred neck, a deep hunger, and him nowhere to be found. A few days after that was Thanksgiving. She had donned a turtleneck and had laid into him in front of both their families, obviously leaving out the vampire part; as far as they knew, she was just his jilted lover. It hadn’t been enough, she still frequently imagined his head on a stake.

“You’re not welcome here,” she said. 

“Well your Nonna says I’m always welcome,” he said. He looked eerie, now. All his past awkwardness gone, replaced by something beautiful, but ultimately unnerving. She wondered if she looked the same.

“Stay away from my family,” she said, so quietly she knew only he would hear it. She needed to get away from everyone. She started for the hall, and Joey was sure to follow her.

“Look, I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t handle turning you well, okay? But if it helps, you were the first one.” They came to a stop, far enough from earshot.

“The first?”

“Well I was never going to keep this power to myself, the minute I found It in that attic, I knew I had to share,” he said, speaking fast. She would accuse him of being crazy, if anything could surprise her anymore.

“In the attic?”

“Yes, yes we knew something was there. This power belongs to your family. We’ll form a coven, just like we always dreamed.”

“Joey,” she said, thinking of her year away from home. He was always there, helping her grandfather with yard work, playing video games with her cousins, charming her aunts. “Who else have you turned?”

“Do you not know?” She wished he would stop being so damn cryptic. He beckoned her back towards the crowd. “Again, I apologize, there are things I should’ve taught you, you’re obviously not in touch with your powers. Focus on the heartbeats.”

She turned her attention the room. Being a vampire was often an abundance of sensations, so much so that she drowned everything out. But in focusing on this one sound, she noticed it all around. But not in everyone.

Her Aunt Maria, with her stained mouth and silent chest. Her husband, quiet as ever. Her grandfather, darting across the room like a young man, with no heartbeat to be heard. Several of her cousins, Joey’s parents, her own mother. 

“What have you done Joey,” she asked, but it wasn’t much of a question. Her stomach ached. More alarming than lack of heartbeats was the sound of rushing blood from the bodies of the living. The several humans amongst the hidden, hungry vampires.

“Are you ready for a Thanksgiving feast?”