Chapter 66
Without any warning, Margie began to laugh. At first, it was just a giggle, and then it turned into a loud cackling, the kind that one might hear on a stage show involving an old hag or witch. They all stared at her in silence, only lifting their eyes to glance at each other from time to time.
Once she had better control over herself, she said, “All right. Mother, you won’t let me contact Uncle Culpepper, and you’ve forbid him from coming round, that’s evident. Well, it just so happens there are other ways that it can be done.”
“Marjorie, I forbid you….”
“You can’t stop me!” The declaration was so loud, the chandelier above the table began to sway to and fro.
While his parents were still staring at each other, James watched as Margie bolted from the table and took off running toward the back door. His parents continued to look at each other, flabbergasted, but neither of them made a move to follow her.
“Father, aren’t you going to go after her?” James asked, shocked.
“She’ll come back, once she’s calmed down.”
“But she’s a young woman running around the streets after dark,” he reminded his father.
Dr. Joplin only shrugged, and glancing at his mother, James could see that she was beginning to weep.
Thinking of all the atrocities that could happen to his sister out there by herself, despite the fact that they lived in a nice neighborhood, James resolved not to let her go on her own. Hoping he could catch up to her, he threw his napkin on the table and headed off toward the back door.
“James?” he heard his father’s voice. “James!” He didn’t slow or even look back as he flew out the back door, though the fact that his father seemed to want him to stop but had said nothing to his sister was telling.
It was early October, and crisp air smelled of falling leaves with traces of fireplace smoke. James knew he was much faster than his sister the last time they’d raced, but if she’d already rounded a corner, he’d have no idea which way to go. Luckily, he caught a glimpse of her up the block. He suddenly knew exactly where she was headed, so he decided to take a different route.
James sprinted around the back of the house and began to run in a parallel path toward what he was sure had to be Margie’s destination. He hoped he wouldn’t scare her, but he was afraid if he merely followed behind her, he wouldn’t get there in time. What it was he thought might happen to her once she arrived at the alley, he wasn’t sure, but he was sure she wouldn’t encounter a vampire there. Perhaps some uncouth garbage thieves.
Coming up on the far end of the alley, James slowed his pace. He knew there was nothing at all to be afraid of, but memories of what he had thought he’d seen here so long ago still made his palms sweaty. As he approached the back entrance of the alley, he heard his sister shouting from the other end, almost a block away, on the other end of the narrow passage. He stopped short, waiting for her to finish so he could call out to her without frightening her. Peeking around the corner, he saw her standing in the middle, where the shadow cast in daytime was always darkest. She was still on the walkway, but she looked determined.
“Where are you?” she shouted into the shadows. “I know that you’re here! Come out! I want to fight you! I want to rip your head off!”
James was alarmed that some of the neighbors might hear and call the police. There were two large houses on either side of the alley, only the ten feet or so expanse of the narrow lane dividing them. Even as the thought entered his head, a light was lit in the house to his sister’s left.
It was not a deterrent. “I said, I want to fight you!”
Thinking he needed to act now before Margie ended up spending the night in lock up for creating a public nuisance, he yelled, “Margie, it’s Jamie. I’m heading down the alley now, all right. Be still, and we’ll figure this out together.”
“Go home, little brother!” she shouted back. “This is between me and him.”
James was standing across from her now, the expanse of alley between them, and nothing more. Exactly who she was talking about, he wasn’t sure, but he could see no one other than his sister, and he knew she didn’t see anyone—or anything—either. Slowly, he began to walk toward her.
He’d never actually stepped foot in the alley before, and once he was a few feet into the darkness, he remembered why. On the far end, Margie was still illuminated by streetlamps and the houses on the block. Occasionally, a carriage would pass by on the road behind her, which he could also see. But here, in this abyss, it was so dark, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face.
Nevertheless, now was not a time to waver. He needed to be strong and brave for his sister, to show her that there was nothing in the alley, nothing to fear, nothing that could hurt them. Nothing that needed to be hunted.
A few steps further, and he was nearly halfway through. Margie was quiet now, but her head was darting around, and he imagined her eyes tracing the shadows on the walls, looking for the one she thought she saw here so many years ago, the same one he had also believed he once saw when he was young and impressionable. How had Margie become entranced by the notion that what she’d seen was real? It was becoming clearer every moment that his sister needed professional help.
Now that he had passed the halfway point, he realized he was walking toward the light; rather than getting darker, the space was becoming lighter now, and he could begin to see shapes around him. A fallen tree branch, a bit of refuse, the ivy waving in the wind off the fence on one side of the chasm. He would reach her soon, take her home, and help her calm down.
