TheVampireandtheMouse Read Free Page A

as the sun fled, and
outside the street turned quiet and dark.
    Then, knock, knock .
    I went to my door and looked through the peephole and there
he was, wearing a gray jumper and faded blue jeans. I opened the door and he
smiled. We stood like that for maybe a minute, him smiling and me staring,
until he said, “Invite me in.”
    “Oh, yes,” I said, flustered. “Come in, come in.”
    He walked in and I closed the door behind him and led him
into the living room and we sat down. He reclined on the sofa as if he lived
here and looked at me with those dark eyes. “It’s all done,” he said. “Oh, and
the witness, the fat one, he won’t be bothering you.”
    I found I couldn’t look at him, so instead I stroked Rocky and
stared down at him as he arched his back and mewed loudly. “What did you do?” I
said quietly, afraid of the answer.
    “He won’t be bothering you,” Benjamin repeated, and tried to
smile. But there was a nervousness in that smile.
    We were silent for a long time. Benjamin clicked his tongue
and Rocky left me and went to him and climbed into his lap. He stroked him and
rubbed him under the chin. Rocky squeaked and licked his hand. This made me
less suspicious of Benjamin. Rocky is normally a mean cat and won’t let anybody
apart from me stroke him. He licked Benjamin’s hand again and then climbed off
him.
    I looked at Benjamin and he shrugged. “Animals like me.
Anyway, I imagine you have some questions. Let me save you some time and
explain everything.”
    * * * * *
    When he was done, I got a drink. Red wine, filled to the
brim. I drank half of it in one gulp and then returned to the living room. Ben
(he didn’t mind Ben ) was a vampire, he told me. He’d found me by
smelling the strand of hair he’d taken. He was six hundred and twenty-seven
years old. He’d drunk Rat’s blood and dumped his body in the ocean, which was
at least one hundred miles away, by running there, carrying the corpse.
    “A vampire,” I repeated as I took another gulp.
    “A vampire,” he said.
    I finished the glass and returned to the kitchen and poured
myself another wine and came back to the living room.
    “A vampire ,” I gasped.
    “A vampire.” He smiled. “I can do this all day…all night, I
should say.”
    I sat there silently with the wine swimming in my stomach
and his words swimming in my head, and thought, I am dreaming . That was
the only explanation, I was sure. I would wake up in a cell, and all this would
be a dream I’d created to hide the stark, horrible truth: I was going to spend
the rest of my life in a cage.
    “You don’t believe me,” he said.
    But his words were quiet and hazy, as though echoing from
mist. I was too busy listening to the jailor’s implorations and my fellow prisoners’
screams of innocence and the clank-click as the cell doors slid shut and
locked. I was far away, staring up at a grotty, dank ceiling, the springy
mattress digging into my back. I was going to be here forever, forever, for—
    Ben jumped to his feet and nodded at my wineglass. “A
refill, yes?”
    “Yes, please,” I said, realizing it was empty.
    He nodded, and then, flash, blur. Nebulous mass of moving
air. A slight breeze. Was the window open? And then, blink. The glass was full.
“How—”
    “Vampire, remember?”
    “It didn’t spill,” I said, which seemed important for some
reason.
    “I was careful,” he said. “Now, are you insane?”
    “Insane,” I said, taken aback. Though it was a reasonable
question. I’d been thinking the same thing moments ago. “No,” I went on, truly
offended now. “Of course I’m not insane. Sorry, but this isn’t normal for me,
you know. I’ve never killed anybody before. I’ve never met someone who can move
faster than light. I’ve never had to flee the scene of a crime !” My
voice got louder, and I bunched my fists up, and the wine spilled onto the
hardwood floor. I got to my feet. “Sorry, Ben , but this isn’t normal!
This is