How to Be a Vampire (5 page)

Nothing.

“I give up,” he moaned. He unplugged the iron, dropped the
book, and kicked it back where it had come from—under his bed.

Then he turned to T.J. “Okay, you're the vampire expert. What
am I going to do?”

T.J. grew serious. “You have to totally trust me on this,
Andrew,” he said. “I'll tell you what you have to do. But do you
promise to do it?”

Andrew nodded. He was desperate.

“Okay,” T.J. said. “The first thing you have to do is
get a coffin.”

“A
re you crazy?” Andrew cried.
“Get a coffin?”

T.J. nodded. “You have to. Vampires sleep in coffins.”

“But
why?
I mean, what would happen if I
didn't?”

“Vampires can't really rest unless they sleep in a
coffin,” T.J. said.

“Okay, so I don't get a good night's sleep.”
Andrew shrugged. “Big deal. I'd rather toss and turn all night in my own bed
than sleep in a coffin.”

T.J. shook his head. “You might be okay for a few nights. But a
vampire has to sleep in a coffin. It's one of the rules.”

Andrew sighed. “Yeah, I'll probably read all about it tomorrow
in Chapter Three.”

“And not an empty coffin either,” T.J.
added.

“What do you mean?” Andrew asked.

“It has to have some of your native soil in it,” T.J.
said.

“Native soil?” Andrew's eyebrows arched up. “Soil?
Like dirt? Like dirt out of my own backyard?”

“Exactly,” T.J. agreed. “Face it, Andrew. Sooner or
later you have to get a coffin.”

“Oh, great,” Andrew groaned. “So how do I get a coffin?
Go to Fear Street Cemetery and dig one up?”

“Hey, yeah!” T.J. exclaimed. Then he frowned. “But how
would you get rid of the body that's already in it?”

“B-b-body?” Andrew managed to get out. “I don't
want a coffin that's had a body in it! If I have to sleep in a coffin, I want a
new one!”

“A new one . . .” T.J. repeated. Then he raced
for the door.

Andrew threw himself down on his bed. Why was this happening to him? Only
this morning he'd been a normal kid. He'd been worried about finding his
sneakers. Now he was some kind of a freak. Now he had to worry about finding a
coffin!

T.J. rushed back into Andrew's room, flipping through the Yellow
Pages. “ ‘Clowns,' ” he said.
“ ‘Coffee. Coins.' ” He stopped. “No coffins.
Hmmm. I'll try ‘Funeral Homes.' Hey, great! They've got ten
listings for funeral homes.” T.J. picked up the phone.

Andrew couldn't stand to listen to T.J. asking
about a coffin. A coffin for him! He went down to the kitchen. When he came back
with a bag of chips, T.J. was frowning.

“What?” said Andrew. “They don't sell
coffins?”

“Oh, they sell them.” T.J. reached for a chip. “And you
can have a not-too-fancy one for only twelve hundred dollars.”

Andrew handed T.J. the bag of chips. His appetite was gone.

T.J. thought while he ate. “For tonight,” he said, “find
a coffin substitute.”

“Like what?” Andrew asked.

“A big box. A drawer. A closet.” T.J. finished the chips and
tossed the empty bag into the wastebasket. “Any small space where you can put your
native soil.”

* * *

That night after dinner, Andrew went out to the backyard and dug up a
little native soil. He felt like an idiot. But he didn't want to break any more
vampire rules. He put the dirt into a small plastic bag. Then he walked around his
house, looking for something that might serve as a coffin.

In the basement, he found a battered cardboard refrigerator box. It was
full of old clothes. But it might work.

Andrew pushed the box over on its side. He took out the clothes through
one end. He tossed in his bag of native soil. Then he crawled in to try it out.

Andrew lay there with his head at the closed end of
the box. His feet stuck out the other end. The box smelled funny and damp. He
didn't think he could handle a whole night of that smell.

“Andrew?” Emily's voice boomed from above the box.
“What are you doing in there?”

“Uh . . .” Andrew didn't know what to
say. “I'm . . . doing an experiment. For science
class.”

“An experiment on
what?”
Emily
asked. “On how being in a small space affects the human brain?”

“Hey . . . right,” Andrew said. “You
got it.”

Emily bent down. She peered in at her brother. “And have you found
that most brains turn to mush?” she asked him. “Or only
your
brain?”

Emily didn't wait for him to answer. She grabbed him by both ankles
and yanked him out of the box.

“I don't know why you were in there,” Emily said.
“And I don't want to know. But it has something to do with vampires.
Right?”

Andrew nodded.

“How can you be so stupid?” Emily was practically
screaming.

Andrew sat up. He tried to stay calm while he laid out all the evidence
for his sister. She'd see. He
was
becoming a vampire.
But for every single thing, she had a reasonable answer.

His pale color? A touch of the flu.

The bumps on his neck? Mosquito bites.

The garlic-bread incident? Spoiled butter.

The bus not going over the brook? Simple engine
trouble.

The dogs swarming around him? The cookie in his pocket.

Emily went upstairs then. Andrew stuffed the old clothes back into the
refrigerator box. He felt a huge sense of relief.

Emily
had
to be right. Vampires weren't
real!

With T.J. around, of course he thought he was turning into a vampire.
Because T.J. was so into vampires. Because T.J. wanted it to be true! But now, with T.J.
gone, he saw that Emily was right. No way was he turning into a vampire!

But . . . what if he was?

Andrew shivered. That was too horrible to think about!

* * *

Late that night, Andrew lay staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling of his closet.

He hoped with all his might that he wasn't turning into a vampire.
But just in case . . . he didn't want to break any more rules.
So he made a bed for himself inside his closet.

A closet wasn't exactly like a coffin. But it was shaped like
one—a coffin standing on end. And it was dark. Anyway, it was the best he could do
on short notice.

Andrew had lined the floor of the closet with
towels.
He brought in his pillow. And a blanket. And the bag of dirt.

Andrew didn't like to admit it. But he felt pretty good curled up
inside his closet!

* * *

Andrew heard something. It half woke him up. He opened his eyes. It was
dark. Very dark. For a second, he forgot where he was. Then he remembered. The closet.
But why did it feel so different now? Why couldn't he feel the floor?

Andrew had a strange, floating feeling. His head felt heavy.

A muffled voice outside the closet said, “Where is he?”

“His bed hasn't been slept in,” came another voice.

Andrew woke all the way up now.

“Where in the world could he be?” a voice said.

Then the closet door swung open. There stood his mom! And Emily!
But . . . they were upside down!

Something was wrong.

Horribly wrong!

What was happening to him?

A
ndrew shut his eyes. Then he opened them.

Emily and his mom stared back at him. They had wide-open eyes. And wide-open mouths. But . . . their mouths were
over
their eyes! They were still upside down.

Seeing them like that made Andrew feel sick and dizzy.

“What in the world . . .” his mother's upside-down mouth said.

“Uh . . .” Andrew tilted his head up. He found himself staring at the floor of his closet. Now he realized where he was.

He was hanging by his knees from his clothes rod!

Emily and his mom weren't upside down. He was!

“Get down, Andrew,” Emily demanded.

Andrew tried. But he discovered that he couldn't move his arms. They were pinned to his sides by his blanket, which was wrapped tightly around his shoulders. How did this happen? Could he have wrapped himself up like this?

Andrew struggled. Finally he freed his arms from the blanket. He lowered himself to the floor.

“Andrew?” his mom said. “Were you in there the whole night?”

“Yeah,” Andrew said slowly. “See . . . it's sort of like . . . practicing for . . . survival training.”

His mom's eyes narrowed. “Hanging by your knees in your closet? How is that supposed to help you survive?”

“Well, you know,” Andrew said. “In case I was ever in the woods and I had to sleep hanging from a tree branch or—”

“Give me a break!” Emily cut in.

His mom reached out and felt his forehead. “No temperature,” she said, tilting her head as she glanced at him. “I thought maybe you had a high fever with hallucinations.”

“I'm okay, Mom,” Andrew said. “Really.” He wished it were true! “I'll get ready for school really fast, okay? Ten minutes.”

“You better,” Emily growled at him.

His mother shook her head. “All right,” she said. “I
have to be at work early today. Don't keep your sister waiting.”

“No way,” Andrew told her. “Don't worry.”

He shooed his mom and Emily out of his room.

He shut the door. Then he leaned on it, his mind racing.

This can't be happening
! he thought.
But it is! I'm really turning into a vampire!

Andrew dove for his backpack. He yanked out
How to Be a Vampire.
He flipped madly through its pages. He was becoming a vampire! He
had
to know more about the vampire rules. But . . . no! The pages were blank!

“Please!” Andrew begged the unseen hand. “Write something!”

And as if on command, writing began to appear.

A mature vampire is a day sleeper. At dawn, he retires to his coffin. There, he may sleep with the lid open or closed.

As a vampire-in-training, you still sleep at night. It is best for you to sleep in a coffin. If a coffin cannot be found, any small, dark place will do.

A mature vampire must return to his coffin at daybreak. If this is not possible, a vampire searches for a cave. Or a tree in a dark forest. There, he will hang upside down to sleep, wrapping his wings around his body.

As a vampire-in-training, you must practice sleeping upside down. If possible, wrap yourself in a sheet or blanket before you go to sleep. This will help you get used to having wings.

The writing stopped there.

Andrew started shaking the book.

“Tell me what I need to know
today!”
he yelled. “Tell me things
before
they happen, you stupid book! Not after!”

What if he broke some serious rule? What if Chapter Four said something like:
Any vampire-in-training who says the word “sneaker” will instantly die a horrible death.

He needed to know what to do. And what
not
to do. He needed to know now! Before it was too late!

“Ten minutes are up!” Emily called from downstairs.

With a groan, Andrew stuffed the book into his backpack. He threw on his clothes and ran down the stairs.

Emily was waiting at the bottom. “Let's go,” she said.

“Hold it,” Andrew said. “I'm starving.”

Emily followed Andrew into the kitchen. “I cannot believe the torture you put me through in the mornings,” she told him.

Andrew stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster oven.

“How did you even
think
of hanging upside down in your closet?” Emily continued. “What is wrong with your brain?”