The Traveling Vampire Show

“I thought maybe Slim and I might come over and take her with us to the movies.”

Mrs. Simmons remained silent.

“There’s a double-feature at the drive-in. What Ever Happened to Baby Jane’s playing with The House on Haunted Hill.”

“Haven’t you seen those movies?” she asked.

“The House on Haunted Hill. ”

“I thought so.”

“But that was a couple of years ago, and we missed our chance to see What Ever Happened to Baby Jane when it played at the Crown. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth hasn’t seen either one of them, and Slim and I don’t mind seeing The House on Haunted Hill again. It was really good.”

“I’m not sure I want Elizabeth to see that sort of movie. They’re both supposed to be dreadful. I don’t want her coming home with nightmares.”

“Bette Davis and Joan Crawford are in Baby Jane,” I pointed out.

“I’m well aware of that.”

“They were really big stars in your generation.”

That got a laugh out of Mrs. Simmons. “My generation, huh?”

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, so I changed the subject slightly. “Anyway, I bet Elizabeth would get a kick out of going to the drive-in with us. We’ll pay for her ticket and buy her snacks and stuff.”

“And who, exactly, will be driving?”

“Slim. We’ll be going in her car.”

“I see.”

She trusted Slim. I figured we had it made.

Then she said, “I don’t know, Dwight.”

“I think Elizabeth might especially like spending some time with me after… you know, feeling so abandoned this afternoon.”

“I suppose you’ll want Rusty to accompany you likewise?”

“Doesn’t matter to us. It’s fine either way.”

“He’s grounded, you know.”

“He doesn’t have to come. The thing is, this is really for Elizabeth.”

“I’ll have to ask her.”

I heard some clatter that meant she was setting down the phone. Pressing the mouthpiece of Slim’s phone against my belly, I said quietly, “I think we’re in business.”

Slim looked tickled. She also looked as if she’d known all along that her plan would succeed. Largely because her plans always succeeded.

Almost always.

After a while, Mrs. Simmons returned to the phone. “Dwight?” she asked.

“I’m here.”

“My husband and I have talked it over. We’ve also discussed the matter with Elizabeth, and she’s willing to forgive and forget.”

“Oh. Good.”

“So we’ll allow her to go with you.”

“Great.”

“Rusty, too. He’s still grounded, mind you. This will be the exception to the rule.”

“Fine.” I grinned at Slim.

“But I want you to promise you won’t do anything to make us regret our decision.”

“I promise, Mrs. Simmons.”

“When will you be picking them up?”

“Maybe in about half an hour?”

Slim nodded her approval.

“Very good. We’ll see you then.”

“Great.”

“And Dwight?”

“Yes?”

“This is a very thoughtful thing you’re doing. It goes a long way toward putting you back in our good graces.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Simmons.”

“See you soon,” she said.

“Real good. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up.

Grinning, Slim began to applaud. “Bravo,” she said. “A fine performance.”

“Thank you, thank you…”

“While you’re on a roll, how about giving Lee another try?”

I dialed Lee’s number. It rang and rang and rang.

Chapter Thirty-six

Slim picked up the two fresh bottles of beer and we went into the living room. On the foyer floor was Rusty’s shirt and the bag containing my dad’s two empty beer bottles—just where I’d left them before hurrying upstairs to stand guard on Slim while she brushed her teeth.

At the time, I’d figured we would be out of the house in about five minutes.

Funny how one thing leads to another.

Or not so funny.

Watching Slim squat by the bag to take out the empty bottles and put in the full ones, I could hardly believe what had happened after I’d followed her upstairs. There was a dream-like quality to it. As if several of my fantasies—and dreads—had come to life. But I knew I hadn’t dreamed any of it; there squatted Slim in nothing but her blouse and here stood I in nothing but a towel. Our clothes were in the drier. All of it had actually happened.

And we were still dealing with the consequences.

Not to mention the consequences of drinking my dad’s beer.

Drinking those two bottles of beer (and trying to conceal the deed) had led us back to Slim’s house… where she’d gone upstairs to brush her teeth and change into a dark blouse… and all the rest had happened.

Consequences within consequences.

But good consequences. Mostly.

Standing up, Slim said, “You be in charge of the beer.” Then she walked over to the sofa. Her back was toward me, so I watched the tail of her blouse slide up as she bent over and pulled the sofa away from the wall.

She crouched and took out the weapons: her bow, her quiver of arrows, and the two knives Rusty and I had carried while helping her search the house for prowlers.

“What’ll we do with those?” I asked.