The Coffin Club

Chapter 10 Picture Perfect

The Hipsterville Art Festival, according to Aunt Libby, was an event showcasing regional artisans dating back to the founding of the town. It was quite a to-do. Five blocks of Main Street, with its quaint boutiques and coffee shops, were cordoned off, allowing patrons and sellers to walk freely in the road without fear of being run over by an old Accord covered with DAVE MATTHEWS, SAVE THE RAIN FOREST, and PETA stickers. Sellers traveled in from neighboring states to peddle their original handcrafted wares. Bright blue and red booths lined the streets, displaying and selling everything from pottery to purses. The early-evening fresh air smelled deliciously of sizzling steak, barbecue, and grilled corn on the cob. Kids enjoyed face painting while adults entered raffles to win prizes from microwaves to a brand-new car.
At the north end of the festival, a jazz band played by a fountain with a statue of the town founder. Elderly and young Hipstervillians alike relaxed in sun chairs, tapping their feet to the lively tunes.
Normally, Aunt Libby was known to be late to every event, dinner, or meeting. Tonight, she was so excited to see her new beau, she was showered, dressed, redressed, and ready to go an hour before our scheduled meeting--at the fountain just after sunset. Not only was I eager to see Alexander, I was going on a double date with adults. Aunt Libby and I anxiously waited by the jazz band for our dates to arrive.
I can`t wait for you to meet Alexander, I exclaimed to my aunt.
Me too, she said, giving me a familial squeeze. I`m looking forward to seeing what you think of Devon. I want your honest opinion. I haven`t been the greatest judge of character in my life. However, I think this one is a keeper.
Aunt Libby kept a rhythmic beat by shaking her hips, her floral sundress flowing and her dangling earrings swinging. If I`d been standing by my mother, I would have been horrified. But I was excited to see my aunt so free-spirited and happy, and I found myself unexpectedly rocking.
The sun seemed to be still over the bell tower in the distance.
I wonder if I jumped up and down if it would make the sun set any faster, I said to my aunt.
I scanned the festival crowd, filled with hipsters, granola heads, goths. Couples of all ages, shapes, and sizes were milling about. Children running, holding balloons, or being pushed in strollers were enjoying the fair.
I glanced among the eclectic crowd, imagining Alexander thriving in the sunlight instead of the moonlight. I watched several cozy couples, hand in hand, wishing it could be Alexander and me.
Before I knew it, dusk had overtaken Main Street. The gaslights illuminated the streets like nineteenth-century London. I remarked to Aunt Libby how lucky we were that the rainy days had departed and the clouds had disappeared for the night of the festival.
A handsome man with two cotton candies (one pastel pink, the other baby blue) appeared out of the crowd and approached us. My aunt was helping a toddler reshape his balloon animal and was unaware a man was standing by our side.
You must be Raven, he said. Aunt Libby`s ears perked up and she swung around.
Devon! my aunt called, returning the animal to the toddler.
Devon was a dashing older gentleman with graying hair and a square jawline. He had piercing eyes and wore designer jeans, Bjorn sandals, a linen sport coat, and a gold earring. He appeared lean and fit, like he spent most of his days jogging to Wild Oats.
My aunt, powerful and independent, appeared to turn to mush in Devon`s presence. She seemed to be entranced by him, just like an unsuspecting audience member is riveted by a hypnotist.
Then I began to question...no, he couldn`t be...The spell he had my aunt under--was it love or something more Underworldly? After all, Hipsterville was experiencing an increasing population of vampires. And he was unusually pale for an earthy-crunchy type and happened to show up just after sunset. Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned around and saw my favorite Nosferatu.
Alexander! I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze.
I wanted Alexander to dip me back and press his fang-filled mouth on my neck, but instead he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek--an appropriate display of affection in front of my aunt and her date.
I`d like you to meet Alexander. This is my aunt Libby and Devon. I was so proud to show him off to my aunt. She`d never known me to have a boyfriend, since I never had one. I suddenly felt grown up.
He`s so adorable! Aunt Libby gushed as if Alexander weren`t standing right in front of her.
You are even more beautiful in person, Alexander kindly complimented her.
The two men shook hands and I watched them closely. I had my suspicions about Devon, and I wondered if I could sense anything by their interaction. But there was nothing unusual in their introduction.
The four of us set out to stroll through the festival. My aunt and I shared our cotton candy with our dates. Alexander and I walked hand in hand while Aunt Libby hung on Devon`s every word. We moseyed in and out of the booths, modeling and pointing at anything and everything we fancied.
Two girls, one dressed in a long corset gown, the other in a My Chemical Romance T- shirt, leggings, and checkered flats, entered a booth ahead of us. It was Scarlet and Onyx.
I left Alexander at the pottery booth, approached the girls, and tapped them on the shoulder.
Simultaneously they turned toward me. I realized I didn`t have an explanation for Alexander or Aunt Libby as to how I knew these two goth girls. In one moment Onyx and Scarlet would be giving me a huge hug and I would have to explain the origin of our acquaintance. They obviously didn`t go to Dullsville High. They weren`t distant relatives. And explaining I`d met them at a vampire club was most especially not going to fly.
But when our eyes met, their expressions appeared vacant.
Have we met? Scarlet asked.
My heart dropped. I felt the same feeling I had in school when I was five and tried to play kickball with catalogue cutout neighborhood kids and they took the ball from me and went inside. For the last two nights I`d partied with these girls, and we`d instantly bonded like we were old friends. I had clearly been mistaken. Then it hit me. They were fearful of my revealing their identity.
I thought you were someone else, I said knowingly, but still saddened.
We get that all the time, Scarlet said.
The girls eyed Alexander, who was now catching up to me.
Onyx gave me a quick wink before they turned and walked away.
Who was that? Alexander asked, grabbing my hand.
I think I saw her at the Coffin Club, I said truthfully.
Speaking of which, what did you do last night? he asked.
Well, you`ll never believe it.
You went to the Coffin Club! he exclaimed.
How did you know? I asked, bewildered.
He pointed to the faded bat on my hand. Oh, that... I said.
Raven, I`d asked you not to go. I don`t want to appear like an overprotective boyfriend, but...Promise me you won`t go back.
It`s not as sinister as it sounds, I defended. I went with Aunt Libby. In fact, it was her idea.
Alexander seemed surprised yet relieved.
Did I hear someone say the Coffin Club?` My aunt, a few feet away from us, spun around and proudly displayed her black fingernails. We had the best time ever! We drank Insane Asylums. I felt at least ten years younger.
Alexander smiled. I could tell he was imagining my aunt trying to conjure up ghosts at the bar.
Maybe we should go, my aunt suggested to Devon. Have you been?
I waited desperately for Devon`s answer. Though he was older than the combined ages of two average clubsters at the nightspot, I wouldn`t have been surprised if he`d checked it out.
I was intrigued to hear his response.
There`s supposed to be an underground club inside. A real vampire hangout. He laughed.
Alexander and I locked eyes.
We didn`t see that when we were there, my aunt admitted. Sounds like fun.
It`s just something I heard, he said to me.
How would Devon know about the vampire hangout? I could only fathom he must have visited it himself.
We continued on and passed a booth with blown-glass ornaments and figures.
We`ll catch up to you, I called to my aunt, and pulled Alexander inside.
Alexander studied the artisan blowing glass into a tiny elephant.
I have strong suspicions about Devon, I whispered.
What do you suspect? he asked, mesmerized by the flaming torch.
That he`s a... Then I turned his face toward mine and mouthed the word vampire.
Alexander laughed and returned to watch the artisan sculpt the tiny trunk.
It`s possible, I persisted.
Yes it is.
See? Then you believe me! Devon doesn`t like to have his picture taken, and Aunt Libby says his stares are hypnotic. He didn`t show up until after sunset, and now he`s talking about vampire clubs.
So what if he is?
Then we have to warn her.
All at once Alexander wasn`t interested in the sculpture. You don`t want your aunt dating a vampire? His midnight eyes couldn`t hide the sadness inside him. I was making Alexander feel that same awful feeling I`d felt when Scarlet didn`t acknowledge me or when my classmates ostracized me. After all, Alexander was a vampire, and I`d just told him I didn`t want my own aunt dating someone of his kind.
I didn`t mean... I said, reaching out to him.
But you did, he argued flatly.
No--that`s not what I meant. Then I realized I had meant it. My eyes welled up with tears. Alexander led me away from the crowd and in between two booths. He sidestepped a puddle of Coke while I despondently plunged right into it.
He brushed away a tear that had trickled down my cheek.
I didn`t mean to offend you, I began. I`d never--
I know, he said, then continued in a soft voice. Raven, you have reason to be concerned. It`s not like dating someone outside your religion, class, or comfort zone. Vampires by nature are deadly to mortals. It`s what I`ve been trying to tell you since we met.
That`s why I said what I did. But you aren`t like that. So maybe Devon isn`t, either.
First of all, we don`t know what Devon is or isn`t.
If he is and he`s like you, then it would be awesome!
Or he could be like Jagger. That`s why I`m protective of you. Don`t you understand?
But Alexander, there are vampires who are just like you.
What do you mean?
I was ready to tell Alexander everything about the underground club when Aunt Libby interrupted. You have to see this painting, she said, grabbing my arm. You won`t believe it!
Unrelentingly she dragged me through the crowd, weaving in and out of festival-goers until we finally stopped at a booth in front of the firehouse.
On an easel, beside a painting of a vase full of flowers, was a picture of me. Dressed in my scarlet and black corset prom dress, wearing lace gloves, and carrying a black parasol, I was standing outside the Mansion. Three bats hovered around me--one with green eyes, a smaller one with blue eyes, and one with one blue and one green. Up behind me at the attic window, the curtain was slightly pulled back and a silhouetted figure watched over me.
In the corner of the painting was a big blue ribbon.
This looks exactly like you! Aunt Libby remarked.
Devon examined it, then me. It certainly does.
It is me! I exclaimed.
Who painted this? Aunt Libby asked the festival volunteer. We have to find this person.
There was no information on the artist. Usually they attach a picture, website, and bio. But the artist must have wanted anonymity.
It looks flawless, like a photograph, my aunt observed.
We`ve been getting inquiries and requests to buy it all day.
You can`t sell it, my aunt began, until we find out more about it.
It does bear an uncanny resemblance to you, the volunteer commented. Do you know any artists?
Devon, my aunt, and the volunteer searched the painting for a signature. I stood in awe while Alexander hung back.
Here it is! my aunt exclaimed, like she`d just spotted an egg on an Easter hunt. In the corner, embedded in a spider`s web, was the name Sterling.
Sterling...That`s you--, my aunt announced to Alexander.
Devon and the volunteer turned to Alexander.
This is why you stayed in town? I asked Alexander.
Jameson insisted I enter, he said self-consciously.
That`s my niece, my aunt declared proudly. And her boyfriend is the artist. It is sure nice to meet you, the volunteer said as if she were meeting a celebrity. Here`s my card. I know that the curator of a gallery was interested in this piece. If you have others, I`m sure he`d love to see them, too.
This is why you stayed so long in Hipsterville. You were preparing to show your artwork in this fair.
Alexander didn`t respond.
Why didn`t you tell me? I asked, squeezing his hand.
I`m sure there are a lot of things you don`t tell me, he said, pointing to the bat stamp on my hand.
A few hours later the annual art festival was coming to a close. Sellers were packing up and booths were being dismantled. The four of us sat at the rim of the fountain, our bellies full of food and our feet tired from walking.
Aunt Libby and Devon sauntered over to a festival exit a few yards away to say good night while Alexander and I cuddled by the waterfall.
I`ll pick you up tomorrow night, Alexander said, his arm around my shoulder. And I`ll have a surprise for you.
I can`t wait. I`ll be counting the minutes!
His face lit up like the moon shining above him.
Alexander leaned into me and gave me a slow kiss. His lips tasted like soda and caramel apples.
He watched me from the fountain as I headed over to my aunt and her boyfriend, who were now holding hands and getting lost in each other`s eyes. At any minute, Devon could lean over to her and sink his fangs into her neck--if he had any. But if he did, would he really do it in front of the whole town?
Knowing my aunt Libby, a carefree otherworldly old soul, she might wish to become a vampire. Just my luck, I`d have to visit my aunt in the Underworld while I remained an outsider mortal in Dullsville.
It was great meeting you, Raven, Devon said when I finally caught up to them.
Thanks for the cotton candy, I replied. Hope to see you soon.
I turned away so the new couple would have a private moment before their departure. More important, I had to confirm Devon`s true identity.
I got my compact out of my purse, opened it, and angled it behind me. I took a breath when my aunt tapped me on the shoulder. When I glanced into the reflection, Devon had already disappeared.
Aunt Libby and I spent the midnight hours curled up in our pajamas on the futon, as if at a slumber party, surrounded by rose-scented votives and lavender incense and talking incessantly about our gorgeous guys.
My aunt was giddy as she replayed every girlie thought and feeling she had.
So where will you have your wedding? I asked as we sipped on chamomile tea.
I think it`s too early to scout locations, she said with a laugh. But I`ve always wanted to get married outside.
Then I posed a perfect sleepover-type question. How far would you go, to show your love for him?
Like would I move? she asked. That wasn`t what I had in mind. Sure, I said, playing along.
She shrugged her shoulders. Would I have to work?
Uh...no, I answered. My aunt was getting further away from the point of my playful interrogation.
Would I be able to perform full-time? she asked seriously.
If that`s what you want.
Then I`d have to say yes!
Well, that doesn`t seem like much of a sacrifice, I said. I thought for a moment, and then my eyes caught her TV. It reminded me of the local news report on crop circles I`d seen the other day. What if he lived on another planet?
Like an alien? she asked, then grinned.
Yes, I said. Would you still go?
Aunt Libby paused, really contemplating my question. I was growing weary as I waited for her answer.
Is the planet environmentally sound? she asked.
This is a game, Aunt Libby!
I want to give truthful answers.
The planet is environmentally sound and it is illegal to eat meat.
Then I`d have to say, I`m there.`
Now, I said, building up steam to my point, what if he was a vampire? Would you let him turn you?
She paused. Sure, why not?
That`s it? No thoughts? No asking about the Underworld? You`d have to drink blood and sleep in a coffin.
You told me not to analyze it. Besides, it`s just a game, remember? Now your turn, she said, turning the tables on me. How far would you go to prove your love to Alexander? Would you move?
Out of Dullsville? In a heartbeat. Besides, my mom wouldn`t be able to nag me to clean up my room.
Would you move to another planet for him?
Sure, I began. Then I really wouldn`t have to clean my room at all. My clothes would just float in space and I`d never have to pick them up.
We both cracked up.
Then my aunt became serious. If he was a vampire--would you let him turn you?
The truth was Alexander was a vampire. This question was the most difficult to answer because I thought about it every day. There was no doubt I wanted to be bonded to Alexander for all eternity. But did I want everything else that went with it? If Alexander already rejected the world I`d be entering, how would we live in it together?
Well, would you? my aunt pressed.
I placed my tea mug on the coffee table next to the burning incense. This was supposed to be about you and Devon! I said. I sat back, cross-legged. Have you been to his house?
Not yet. He says he`s not a good housekeeper.
Hmmm, I thought. He could be covering up the fact he sleeps in a coffin.
Is he a carnivore?
I just remembered-- She got up and returned with her hobo-style purse and fished inside it. You`d asked if I had a picture of Devon, she said, pulling out a digital camera. She fiddled with a few buttons on the back. I took this today, she said, and showed me the picture display. It was a picture of Devon, handsomely grinning, outside the blown-glass figurine booth. I would have taken more, but he hates to have his picture taken.
I was surprised. I`d been so totally caught up in proving that Devon was a vampire, I`d stopped leaving room for any other conclusion.
Here you are in the background, she said, pointing. I appeared to be talking to myself. Funny, Alexander got cut off. He was standing right next to you.
Aunt Libby blew out all the candles, gave me a good-night squeeze, and headed off for bed.
Now that it was confirmed Devon was a normal mortal, I`d be able to sleep soundly, knowing the worst fate my aunt could suffer was a broken heart.