Gil's All Fright Diner Part 6

He dipped his mop in the bucket. She was right, of course. Somewhat. But there was more to it than that.

"Look. It ain't about that. You're a good woman, Loretta. And I'm, well, I am what I am."

She leaned closer and whispered. "You mean, you can't . . . perform?"

Duke recoiled. " 'Course I can perform. Pretty d.a.m.n well, too. It's just my . . . uh . . . condition."

"Does that make it dangerous when you . . . ?"

"Yes. Yeah, see when I get too excited . . . things can get . . . risky."

It was an outright lie. He didn't transform against his will. His monstrous form was all rage and fury, designed to stalk and kill. It had nothing at all to do with carnal relations, but lying to her seemed the easiest way to get himself out of an uncomfortable situation.

"That's alright, Duke. I understand. It's no big thing." She scowled at the eternal red splotch. It always came off easy enough but never took five minutes to return.

"Thanks, Hector," Earl said. "I'll look into it and call you back." He hung up the phone.

"Well?" Loretta asked.

"He had some ideas, but I have to check some stuff out before we can be sure." He tucked the notebook under his arm and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a little while. And, oh yeah, Duke. Hec said getting eaten alive definitely would'a killed you."

"Thanks for askin'."

"No problem."

Earl considered grabbing a quick snack before going to the cemetery, but a vampire could go a while between meals. He wasn't hungry enough for cow's blood tonight.

Cathy the ghost was waiting in the graveyard as he knew she would be. The cemetery guardian had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do but wait. She was sitting on her plot, looking bored. A wide grin spread across her face when she noticed him. She jumped to her feet and waved vigorously.

"Hey! You came back!"

Earl nodded while flipping through his notes.

"I wasn't sure you would."

"Just checking things out."

She glanced over his shoulder. "Cool. What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

"Thanks, but I can handle it."

Hector had suggested checking the easternmost tree first. The graveyard didn't have trees, only cacti, but Earl guessed that to be close enough. He knelt down and started digging.

"Is this still about the zombies?" Cathy asked.

"Yeah."

"What are you hoping to find?"

"Mojo bag."

"What's that?"

"It's kind'a hard to explain."

"Oh."

For a blessed few seconds, she stopped pestering him. Of course, her just being there was unsettling enough.

The ghost knelt beside him. "Can I ask you something?"

Earl sighed. "Yeah."

"What's it like being a vampire?"

He shrugged. "It's really not much different than being human."

"Oh."

She sounded disappointed. The reaction was typical. Most people expected more, but the truth was, with the exception of a few lifestyle changes, his existence hadn't changed much since joining the ranks of the undead.

"Are you really immortal?"

"I don't age."

"And what about mirrors? That's not true, is it?"

"It's true."

"Wow. So you can't see your reflection?"

"I can see my clothes. I just can't see me. It's sort of like the invisible man, 'cept only in mirrors."

She grinned. "Cool. Um, can I ask you something else?"

He stopped digging. "Yes, garlic bothers me. Yes, sunlight can kill me. No, crosses and holy water don't do jack s.h.i.+t. At least not to me. Yes, I can cross running water. No, a stake in the heart doesn't kill me, but it does keep me from moving around. Yes, having my head cut off or being roasted can kill me. Yes, I sleep during the day. Yes, I drink blood. No, I can enter without being invited. And yes, I can mesmerize people, though not very well. Does that cover it?"

"Uh . . . yeah, I guess. I'm sorry. Am I bothering you?"

She certainly was, but much as he wanted to tell her to go away, he couldn't bring himself to. He had no idea how long she'd been here, how many years she'd been condemned to watch over this forsaken lot of dirt with only the dead to keep her company. And now, not even that. One way or another, he'd be leaving Rockwood soon, and Cathy would be alone again for a long stretch of eternity.

"Sorry. I'm just in a bad mood 'cuz I got stabbed earlier." The wound had already closed, but a twinge rippled through his side still, thanks to the traces of garlic on the spoon. "Go ahead. Ask me anything you want."

"So crosses don't really affect you?"

"Not me personally. I've met some others that were bothered by 'em, but I'm an atheist." He checked his hole in the dirt. "Guess it's not here."

"Why do you think it would be there?"

"It's gotta be the easternmost cactus."

"This isn't the easternmost cactus. It's that one over there."

Earl squinted where she pointed. He could've sworn this was east, but then again, his sense of direction had always been unreliable at best.

"Thanks."

Buried about a foot deep beside the real easternmost cactus, he found what he was looking for. It was a cheap purse filled with strange and exotic items. The bag was a black-magic fetish, the channel through which dark powers entered the cemetery. Now that it was dug up, there would be no more zombies coming from this particular graveyard.

"Oh that," Cathy said.

"You knew about this?"

"Sure. I saw the guy who buried it."

"What'd he look like?"

"I don't remember exactly. I was sitting by my grave at the time, and I didn't bother getting up to get a closer look. I think he was a kid. Maybe sixteen, seventeen years old."

"How long ago did he bury it?"

"A while. I don't know exactly. I've sort of lost my sense of time."

It was understandable. Ghosts were timeless beings.

"See you later."

"You're going. Already?"

"I found what I was looking for." He rattled the purse.

"Can't you stay just a little while longer?"

"I really shouldn't. I got stuff to do."

"Oh. Okay. Well, can I ask one last favor before you go? Can I touch you? I haven't touched anyone in years. Just a handshake."

He held out his hand.

Carefully, almost reverently, she put her hand in his and squeezed softly. Her ectoplasmic flesh felt cool to the touch. Earl didn't find it as repulsive as he normally did. He allowed the contact to linger for a few moments longer than he would have liked before finally slipping free.

"You know, it's been so long since I've done that, I'd forgotten what it felt like."

"Well, like I said, I got stuff to do."

"Will I see you again?"

"Yeah. How 'bout tomorrow night?" His reply surprised him.

Eyes wide, she beamed. "Really?"

He grinned back. "Yeah. Sure."

"That's great!" She leapt on him, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

Earl didn't push her away. Nor did the urge even strike him.

She let go. Her cheeks paled in a ghostly blush. "So I'll see you tomorrow then."

He couldn't look her in the eye. He glanced at his shuffling feet instead.

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

Earl didn't know why he'd made the promise. Even more unexplainable, he didn't know why he planned on keeping it.

The horn blared.

Grabbing her backpack, Tammy jumped off the couch and headed toward the door. "That's my ride."

"Just a moment there, young lady," her father croaked. "It's eight o'clock. Just where do you think you're going at this hour?"

"Chad and I are going to study together."

Her mother spoke without looking up from her knitting. "Have fun, dear."

"Now hold on a minute. Why can't you study here? Is there something wrong with this house? Are you ashamed of your parents?"

"No, Dad."

"Mind your tone, girl."

"Sorry, Dad."

A fumble momentarily distracted him. He shouted at the television.

"Oh, Sam, let the girl go."

He leaned back in his worn, creaky recliner. "Have you got your math book?"

"Yes," Tammy sighed.

He snorted.

She pulled the book from the backpack for him to see.

The horn honked again.

"Be back by eleven-thirty."