A Vasovagal Vampire

Story #24 for Story A Day Challenge May 2016

Bela Lugosi photo from Wikipedia

Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula, photo from Wikipedia

A Vasovagal Vampire

Acer could hear the voices from behind the door as he entered the waiting area. There was no doubt they were arguing.

And he could guess what they were arguing about: him.

He sat down and waited to be called in. The arguing continued.

“How was I supposed to know? Look at him: 6-foot-3, athletic, rugged. He plays soccer and tennis. He’s a soccer goalie, for Pete’s sake. Goalies are tough hombres.”

“Maybe you should have paid attention? Checked him out?”

“I did! I did! I watched him on the soccer field and the tennis courts. He’s got one heck of a monster serve. That’s how he got his nickname: Acer. And gory movies! Did I mention how much he likes gory movies?”

“Gory movies and real life are not the same.”

“I got that, right? You know that, I know that, he knows that. There was just no way for me to discover ahead of time that he had a problem.”

“What do you expect me to do with a vampire who can’t handle blood, huh? There is no place and I mean no place I can assign him. It’s not like we are in dire need of fangy file clerks, Tony. What we need is more vampires in the field and you,” Sheila jabbed her finger at him, “are not helping.”

Tony sneered. “Well, you can yell at me all you want but he’s your problem now, isn’t he, Sheila? Good luck with that!”

Flinging open the door to leave, Tony stopped when he noticed Acer on the couch. In the heat of the argument, he’d forgotten Acer was out there. Baring his fangs, Tony walked across the floor and out of the building.

Acer watched him go, dreading what was coming.

“You can come in now.” Sheila gestured for him to follow her into her office, the lettering on the door: Vampire Vocations.

Sheila sat down. Acer sat down. After a long minute of silence, Sheila said, “So, Acer, I hear there are some problems with your orientation. Tell me about it.”

“Um, well, I just can’t seem to bite anyone without passing out. It’s not something I can help. I’ve always been that way. I mean, not about biting, I never did that before, but about the blood.”

He looks tired, Sheila noticed, and he’s lost weight since Tony first brought him to the compound. No wonder, if he hasn’t eaten in a while.

“I didn’t hide it, you know, about the blood. It just didn’t come up very often. But that’s why I stayed away from football and rugby. Anyway, I’m actually better now than I used to be. Scraped knees and shins, little stuff like that doesn’t bother me. It’s when there’s a hint of blood flowing, that’s when I black out.”

He remembered the training forays, pouncing on a pedestrian, blood spurting into his mouth. His vision blurred and he felt faint just thinking about it. He was glad he was sitting down.

This was a first for Sheila. A vasovagal vampire. The human-to-vampire transition kept the base physiology of the individual. It didn’t change who they were, just how they existed.

Sheila was faced with a problem. It was her job to assign each vampire to a field position best suited to their character. Only there wasn’t a place for a vampire who was – to misuse the term – allergic to blood.

There wasn’t any going back for Acer. No matter how she tried, she came up with only three options: (1) Let him starve to death; (2) Call in a vampire hunter; or (3) Death by Vitamin D (the natural kind: sunlight).

Letting him starve to death was not an option. It wasn’t in her nature to impose suffering. (She’d been a veterinarian in her human life. She hadn’t spent all that time caring for animals just to turn her back on a non-human in need now.) Besides, no one knew how long a vampire could go without blood. Contacting a vampire hunter seemed scandalous but she wondered about the benefits of doing one of them a professional favor. If done right, it would be quick and Acer wouldn’t have time to even realize what was happening. And sunlight? Acer’s last sunrise? Could she talk him into that? Would she have to lock him out of the compound? Could she, if she had to?

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Acer pleaded, bringing her attention back to the troubled vampire sitting in front of her.

“Don’t worry, Acer.” Sheila looked at her cell phone resting on the stack of folders. “I’m sure we can figure out something. Why don’t you go back to the compound while I make a few calls.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunflower Forest

Story #23 for Story A Day Challenge May 2016

14 Sunflower Tree  s

Sunflower Forest

“Look, Daddy, a sunflower forest!”

“You’re right, sweet pea, it is a sunflower forest!”

“Why are they all facing that way?”

“To get as much sunshine as possible. That’s helps them grow.”

“Can we stop and see?”

“Sure, sweet pea, we have a little extra time.”

“One day, Daddy, I’m going to be as tall as a sunflower tree.” She reached up her arms, spreading them wide. “Look at me, Daddy, I’m growing!”

“Well, right you are! Why, look how much you’ve grown just since you got out of the car.”

“You, too, Daddy, you too. Don’t you want to be a sunflower tree?”

“An excellent idea, sweet pea. Anyone in their right mind would want to be a sunflower tree.”

Father and daughter smiled at each other as they stood at the edge of the sunflower forest, reaching up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Edith Bunker Band

Story #22 for Story A Day Challenge May 2016

22 Edit Bunker Band s

The Edith Bunker Band

“So what are you going to do after you graduate?” Blech. Carol hated that question. People had been asking her some version of it forever, since she was, like, five.

“What do you want to be when you grow up, little girl?” Really? She was only five years old. Her professional options were limited to characters in cartoons and on cereal boxes. She didn’t know what work was.

If she only had a dollar for each time someone asked her that silly question. Once she started college, they changed it to “What are you going to do after you graduate?” It’s still the same stupid question, from the same stupid people.

Carol refrained from rolling her eyes. “I’m going to start a band.”

“Oh,” they would say, “I didn’t know you were a musician.”

“I’m not. Can’t play any instrument.” She baited them.

“So you sing?”

“Nope. Totally tone deaf. Can’t carry a tune to save my life.”

Carol waited until they paused, unsure of what to ask her next. “But I’m not going to let that stop me. I’ll find a couple of other people who are just as bad at playing their instruments as I am at singing. A guitar player and maybe a keyboardist. We’ll call ourselves The Edith Bunker Band. We will be terrible, me singing off key, the other two out of rhythm and fat fingered. We’ll play some oldies as well as current hits, mangling them as best we can. And having fun. Because having fun is what it’s about, right?”

Uncomfortable with her responses, people started to shift their weight from foot to foot, clearing their throats, looking around for some other young person to corner with their silly questions in hopes of not getting a silly answer in return.

She didn’t let them off so easy. “We’ll play in the early time slot. We won’t keep you up late. Promise you’ll come here us play?” It was only after she extorted a promise of attendance that she let her would-be captors escape.

For the umpteenth time, Carol wondered why so many people kept asking her that one question about the rest of her life and really expecting her to have a definitive answer. In a moment of insight, she thought maybe it was because they were still trying to answer it for themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With thanks and apologies to Jean Stapleton who played Edith Bunker on All In The Family.

Jubilant: Weekly Photo Challenge

Story #21 for Story A Day Challenge May 2016 and double duty as the Weekly Photo Challenge: Jubilant

Until further notice, celebrate everything!

Until further notice, celebrate everything!

Jubilant

“Oh, good, you’re here.” Jenny led Sarah into the kitchen. “The others will be here soon.”

“That’s a cute cake, but what is it for?” Sarah checked out the quilting notions  made of icing.

“Tonight I will finish putting the binding on my latest quilt. Time to celebrate!” Jenny opened the drawer for the forks.

“You’re celebrating finishing a quilt?”

“A little party every now and then helps the world go around, don’t you think?” Jenny looked at Sarah but didn’t wait for her to answer, as the doorbell rang and she walked back to the front door.

The rest of the group arrived, en masse. Sarah was the newest member of the quilting bee, having just moved into town recently. She sought out the nearest quilt guild and felt extremely lucky to have found a bee with an opening almost immediately. But the culture here seemed a bit different than where she’d come from. This was only her second meeting with the bee, so she guessed she’d figure it out over time.

“Oh, isn’t that just darling?” “Congratulations, you finished another quilt!” “Another one?! I am so jealous.” Everyone passing the cake oohed and aahed over it.

“I just have a little bit left to do but it’ll be done in no time tonight. And you know what that means!”

“Cake! Cake! Cake!” They all sang out, except for Sarah, who was looking on in wonder, wondering if she was right for this jubilant group.

Everyone took their places, some at the dining room table, some at the tables set up in the living room. They called themselves the Tornado Threaders because they all had sewing rooms that looked as if they had been hit by a tornado. It was the natural state of things, in their minds. They even had a motto: If everything is out in sight, we don’t have to look very long for it, right?

Everyone seems nice even if a little rambunctious, Sarah thought, so maybe it’ll work out for me.

The chatter rose and fell as they worked on their projects, a natural ebb and flow of attention to their work and to each other.

“Ta-da!” Jenny announced. “Another one hits the dust! Quilt binding finished.” Everyone clapped in appreciation. “And now for the presentation. Sarah, will you come over here, please?”

Sarah looked around only to see everyone looking at her. “Um, okay.”

“Sarah,” Jenny said, “we are so happy to have you in our group. It is our tradition to give a small quilt to each new person who joins the Tornado Threaders. This is your quilt.” Jenny handed her the quilt whose binding she just finished.

“Oh,” Sarah said, her heart starting to swell with all the love pouring in from the group, “I don’t know what to say. Thank . . . thank you.” She started to weep, and looked around for tissues, as she didn’t want to get any of her runny mascara on her new quilt.

Someone handed her a napkin. Sarah wiped her eyes and then there were hugs all around from her new quilting family.

“Here,” Jenny handed her a plate, “have the first piece of cake. Let’s celebrate.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jury Duty

Story #20 for Story A Day Challenge May 2016 and doing double duty as my Friday Fictioneer Challenge 100-word story

FF 97 J Hardy Carroll

Photo copyright J Hardy Carroll

Jury Duty

“I hear this new judge is a pushover.” Doug leaned towards the little gray haired old lady sitting next to him. “Not like the one who just retired. She was mean to everyone, I hear. Her nickname isn’t something I can repeat to a lady such as you. I have a plan on just how crazy to act so I won’t get chosen for jury duty. How about you?”

“I don’t have a plan,” she replied. “It’s my first time being called for jury duty, but I don’t think they’ll choose me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m the judge who just retired.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

***********
For a special treat, check out the Friday Fictioneer story by the photographer of this week’s prompt: J Hardy Carroll.