Trapped in Transylvania

  I raised my hand. “That would be me.”

  “Well, and don’t you know my nose told me there was something pungent in my Lucy’s room!” the lady went on. “So I went in there and my! I found just what I was looking for. Garlic. Lots of it. Oh, but it spices the sauce something wonderful!”

  Van Helsing’s face turned as gray as his raincoat. He began to shake and shudder and sputter and spit.

  “But … achhh!” the man exploded. “It was garlic on the Lucy to protect her from vampires! Now! Now! To the Lucy—let us hurry!”

  Van Helsing led the charge on Lucy’s room. He battered open the door with his fists only to find Lucy’s window shattered and a huge black bat with red eyes fluttering out.

  “Ach! My strudel! No!” Van Helsing cried.

  There on the bed lay poor Lucy. She was more white and pale than ever. Even her lips were white, and her gums seemed to have shrunk back from her teeth, which were longer and sharper than before.

  “The fiend has been here and Lucy’s blood is gone!” Van Helsing shouted. “We need blood to go in her, not out!”

  “Hurry!” cried Dr. Seward. “Hurry, or Lucy will die!”

  Stunned at how things were suddenly going, I opened the book and read as fast as I could for the next hour.

  With Van Helsing helping, Dr. Seward gave Lucy a blood transfusion. That’s where you take blood from a healthy person and give it to a sick person. It worked for a while, but then Lucy got weak again. I kept reading and found out that the next night there was a big black bird at her window. The night after that there was a wolf trying to break in.

  On the third night, Lucy got out of the house somehow while everyone was dozing. Nobody knew where she went, and Lucy herself didn’t remember anything.

  That’s when Arthur Holmwood and Quincey Morris finally entered the scene. Holmwood, Lucy’s fiance, was this very English guy with perfect manners and a fancy velvet vest. But Morris was a big blustery American and tramped around like a cowboy in a tight suit. I guess he was the author’s idea of a Texan from Texas. He was all “howdy” and “gosh” and “man alive!”

  Frankie and I liked him right away.

  Both Holmwood and Morris gave Lucy blood transfusions, too, but nothing seemed to work.

  This went on for over a week.

  Finally, one morning, Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, and Holmwood did their usual check on Lucy while Frankie and I stayed in the hall. When they came out, Holmwood was crying, and Van Helsing’s face was all sad and droopy. He shook his head. “No … no … no …”

  Frankie looked at me. Her eyes were wet.

  It was a fairly unfunny and grim moment.

  We walked down the hall together. Finally, Frankie stopped. She pointed to the book in my hands.

  “Lucy … um … sort of … dies … doesn’t she?”

  I skimmed the next couple of pages until the words got a little blurry. Finally, I had to nod my head.

  “I’m pretty sure she does, Frankie. Sorry.”

  “Oh, man. We’ve made some wrong mistakes before, but the garlic mistake is one of the wrongest.”

  “It was sort of in the book anyway,” I said. “Lucy’s mom really does take the garlic away. But, yeah, I guess we all goofed up pretty major.”

  Frankie was way bummed. I hated to see her like that. I became bummed, too. I could imagine that we might just want to give up on the whole book. The story was just too sad in a lot of ways. But then I realized that the story had to keep going. It had to, or we’d never get to the end.

  “On the plus side,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “she’s only a character in a book.”

  “But you get attached, you know?”

  “I noticed that. But on the plus-plus side, Lucy doesn’t really die. She becomes one of the undead. Dracula recruits her to be a vampire and she starts doing the biting thing on other people. Think of it as a career move. Not a good one, but a move.”

  She almost smiled. “Thanks for trying to make me feel good, but I gotta ask. Why do people write sad stories?”

  I shrugged. “Why do people read them?”

  “That was heavy, Devin. Very heavy.”

  “It must be all that spaghetti I ate.”

  She snorted a laugh at that. “Dude, I know what you mean. Mine isn’t sitting too well, either.”

  Over the next half hour, Frankie and I took turns reading the sad pages about Lucy’s death. She died, was buried, then became a true vampire, attacking and biting people living in Whitby. Van Helsing convinced everyone that they had to perform a ceremony on Lucy by driving a wooden stake through her heart. He said it was the only way to cure a vampire.

  It was brutal. But we found we couldn’t stop reading until we were standing outside Lucy’s tomb. By then, all the guys had done the ceremony to stop Lucy vamping around the neighborhood at night. It was pretty sad and gross, but at least it was over.

  Van Helsing stared at Frankie, Dr. Seward, Holmwood, Morris, and me, the wind swirling his frizzy hair.

  “It is done,” he said. “Lucy is no longer of the undead. She is now just plain dead.”

  Dr. Seward shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a letter. “Today, I received news from Jonathan Harker and Mina. They have returned from the hospital in Budapest and are now in London. And they have seen Dracula there—”

  “Then go to London we must!” Van Helsing announced. “Two nights from now, we will all meet at the home of Dr. Seward in London to plot our next move.”

  I nudged Frankie. “A sort of big meeting of the guys.”

  “There’s always one of those when you need to get a job done,” she said. “I love the big meeting of the guys.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “Big meetings of guys always make you feel good. Let’s do it.”

  Everyone looked at each other and nodded.

  By the next page, we were in London.

  Chapter 14

  Dr. Seward’s house in London was stuck between a hospital on one side and a dark old house on the other. Although it was rainy and cold and the fog was thick, it was still warm and cozy inside. A fire crackled noisily in the fireplace as we gathered around the dining room table.

  While Van Helsing paced up and down, Morris chewed a big cigar, and Holmwood sat frowning in a corner. Not only was Lucy dead, but Holmwood’s father had just died, so now everybody was calling him Lord Godalming. Sort of a mouthful, if you ask me. I turned to Frankie and checked her place in the book.

  We had a lot of pages left.

  “Shouldn’t we start the big meeting of the guys?” I asked.

  Van Helsing shook his head. “We are waiting for—”

  “More characters?” said Frankie. “I mean … people?”

  I looked at her. She looked at me. People. Right. They did seem a lot more real now than when we had started.

  “We wait for the doorbell,” said Van Helsing.

  I gave Frankie the old head nod, and she began reading. Suddenly, she jumped up and rushed to the door.

  Ding—!

  Frankie pulled the door open before it donged, and Harker and his wife Mina stumbled into the room.

  “Mr. Harker Jonathan and his wife of charms, Mina!” Van Helsing boomed, clasping their hands. “I am with so much pleasure meeting you now both!”

  Then with a snap of his fingers, the professor bid us all to sit down and start the meeting.

  “Begin us now!” he said. “First, Harker Jonathan, what say you?”

  Harker stood up and glanced at all of us one by one. He looked tired and scared. “Dracula is in London,” he said. “And though it seems impossible, he appears to be younger, stronger, and more powerful than before. Not only that, but with Mina helping me, we have tracked down the boxes of dirt—”

  “Evil dirt!” I said.

  “Bad evil!” Frankie added.

  “Ya—quiet!” said Van Helsing. “And the dirty boxes are where?”

  “They were unloaded from the boat at Whi
tby and brought to the house Dracula purchased,” said Mina. “An old house in London known as Carfax Abbey—”

  “Oh—my—gosh!” Dr. Seward exclaimed suddenly, jumping up from the table. “Carfax? Carfax? Carfax!”

  “Carfax Abbey,” said Frankie, pointing to the page.

  “But—Carfax Abbey is—the house next door!”

  Dr. Seward pointed out the window at the dark hulky shape beyond the trees. It looked ultraspooky.

  “Astounding it is!” said Van Helsing. “Right here?”

  I gasped. “That’s some kind of coincidence!”

  “All fifty boxes were brought to the chapel at Carfax,” Harker went on. “I’ve been asking, and it seems Dracula has purchased three other London houses, but I know not where. Some boxes may have been moved around.”

  “We must destroy all the boxes,” said Lord Godalming—formerly Holmwood—from his chair. “To avenge my dear, dear Lucy!”

  “What I want to know,” drawled Quincey Morris, his cigar held tight between his teeth, “is why there is silly dirt in the boxes. Man alive! Back in America, we leave dirt on the ground—where it belongs!”

  “Ah!” said Van Helsing, puffing up his chest. “I will turn on your brain with lightedness! Now you listen!”

  It was clear that Van Helsing had been waiting for this moment since he first stepped into this book. He stuck his hands in his pockets and began to stomp back and forth in front of us dramatically.

  “Vampires!” he began. “What can we say of them?”

  “They have fangs,” I said.

  “They dress in total black,” said Frankie.

  “They live in dusty castles,” said Harker.

  “And more much!” said the professor, raising his finger. “Vampires have been wherever people are. In old Greece, Rome, Germany, France, India, and China—”

  “How about the U.S.?” Frankie whispered to me.

  “Also there!” Van Helsing said.

  “Yeah?” Quincey snorted. “Over my dead body!”

  “Now listen of my words,” the professor resumed. “The vampire dies without dying. He grows younger when he has fed on the lives of the living. Ya, also, he throws no shadow on the ground. He make in the mirror no reflect of himself. He can be wolf or dog or bat or bird. Being undead he only become stronger and stronger, with more power to work his evil wickedness on the world. Dracula is now as strong as twenty men. He can command the dead. Also the rat, the owl, the bat, the moth, the flea, the spider, and the wolf. He can become them and also grow or become small. He at times vanish himself and become unknown!”

  “So, he’s pretty much invincible?” I asked.

  “Ah, no!” the professor went on. “He can do all these things, but he is free not. He may not enter where his invitation is not. His power stops at break of day. If sunlight is on him, it does not tan him. It burns him up! A wooden stake piercing his heart will kill him, poof! And Dracula needs a coffin of evil dirt from his foul castle to sleep every night!”

  “That explains why his coat is always so dirty, but why does he need fifty boxes of the stuff?” I asked. “Why not just one?”

  Van Helsing let out a little smile from under his puffy mustache. “Ah, can we not all guess why Dracula needs fifty such dirt boxes?”

  I raised my hand. “Because even though he’s a Count he can’t count?”

  Van Helsing shook his head.

  “Because he’s evil, bad-evil?”

  He nodded. “Ya! But no!”

  “Ooh!” said Frankie. “For when he takes road trips?”

  “Maybe ya, but no.…”

  I gasped. “Because he’s building an army! An army of vampires! And the dirt is for their slumber parties!”

  “YA!” Van Helsing exploded, stomping his foot joyfully. “You have hit the nail on its hat!”

  “But how will we trap him?” Godalming asked.

  The professor twirled on his heels. “We destroy him with the stake of wood! Pfft! In his heart. Kapushhh, he turn to dust!”

  “Count me in, Professor,” said Morris. “I’m itchin’ for a fight with this varmint.”

  “I am with you, too, Professor,” said Godalming. “For Lucy’s sake. This Dracula grows more evil every hour.”

  “More than much!” Van Helsing exploded. “That is why the vampire must be destroyed! But first, we find his where!”

  “His what?” Harker asked.

  “Not his what—his where! We must find where is his where!”

  “Where is his what?” said Harker.

  “What will he wear?” said Morris.

  Suddenly, there was a crashing sound and the window shattered into bits. A dark furry shape dove into the room, flapping thick black wings.

  “A bat!” said Dr. Seward. “Could it be—?”

  Mina, who had been fairly quiet so far, screamed. “Out! Out! You terrible ugly thing!” She rushed to the bat and struck at it wildly. She pulled her hand away quickly and the bat flew back out the window and away across the lawn to Carfax next door.

  Harker rushed to his wife. “Mina, you are bleeding.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “Barely a scratch.”

  Van Helsing frowned. “But it could have been—”

  “It was just a bat, Professor!” Mina said sharply. “It wasn’t Dracula. I’m sure of it! I feel perfect. Perfect—do you hear! Now, you men go on to Carfax alone. I’ll be fine here. More than fine, in fact. I’ll be perfect!”

  “Is good!” Van Helsing said. “Now, let us go to the Carfax hurringly. Water I have, that is blessed and holy. Ya, everything Dracula is not. We sprinkle and sss! we sterilize his filthy dirt boxes of filth. That way, Dracula has a place to sleep nowhere. Ya! We must find this vampire and drive him out!”

  “Drive?” said Frankie. “Let’s make him walk like everyone else!”

  As we all stood up, it suddenly seemed like one of those special moments of bonding. Without a word, we clasped our hands together. Frankie had to put the book down on the table to do that. It was the first time, I think, that either of us had done that. But I think it meant something.

  It meant that we were part of the story now.

  I turned to Frankie. She seemed to feel it, too.

  “This is the ‘let’s go’ part of the book, isn’t it, Dev?” Frankie asked.

  “I think so,” I said. “There’s only one thing to do and everybody knows it. Go ahead, Frankie. Do the honors.”

  Taking a deep breath and looking around at all the faces, Frankie said. “Okay, everybody … let’s go!”

  “Ach! Ach!” Van Helsing sputtered under his thick mustache. “I say when we go! I the vampire expert am!”

  He waited until everyone was looking at him.

  Finally, he said, “Let’s go!”

  And we went. And as we went, Mina chirped happily from the door, “I feel perfect, you know!”

  I turned to Frankie. “Why does she keep saying that?”

  “Simple,” she said. “She doesn’t have too many lines in this chapter.”

  Chapter 15

  As we made our way across Dr. Seward’s lawn, Carfax Abbey stood against the darkening London sky like a huge stone ruin.

  “They must have used one giant pile of stones for this place,” I murmured to Frankie.

  She snorted. “Now the stones want to be a pile again.”

  It was true. The place was totally falling down.

  The gates in front were of old wood and even older iron all eaten with rust. It took no more than a minute to push through them and enter the big overgrown yard.

  The house loomed ahead. There were only a few windows in it, all of them dark. Iron bars crisscrossed the glass—which should have told us something.

  “Lair of evil, number two,” Frankie mumbled as we climbed up the front steps.

  At the door, Van Helsing raised his hand. “My friends, we are going into terrible danger. Be watchful!”

  At the professor’s signal, Harker an
d Seward pressed on the door. The rusty hinges creaked. Slowly the old door opened.

  I had been prepared for some kind of smell, but the stench that came blowing out nearly knocked us over.

  “Oh!” Harker said, burying his nose in his coat.

  “Ach!” Van Helsing exclaimed. “Every breath of that monster Dracula clings to here! But we must proceed.”

  I sniffed my armpits as we entered.

  “Let’s find the boxes quickly,” said Godalming.

  Harker, for some reason looking right at me and Frankie, said, “Why don’t you two come with me. We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”

  “And it was such fun the first time,” I mumbled.

  Van Helsing nodded sharply. “You find boxes. We other men will examinate every cranny and nookle to discover some clue about the where of Dracula now.”

  As Harker headed into the dark interior of the vampire’s evil lair, I nudged Frankie. “You afraid?”

  “Nah!” she said. “Well, maybe a little. Okay, I can’t move. But Dracula’s not here, right? And it’s only boxes, right? With no dead folks in them? Just dirt, right?”

  “Probably,” said Harker, not very reassuringly as he pulled us both with him. “Now let’s hurry. Mina is alone. I want to get back to her as soon as possible.”

  The other guys wandered off into the darkness, leaving Harker, Frankie, and me to follow the damp smell of evil dirt all the way into the Carfax chapel.

  The chapel, when we got there, was crammed with dust. The floor was inches deep with the stuff. If you can picture it, the walls were actually fluffy with dust! Masses of spiderwebs in the corners were so thick that they looked like old rags hanging in midair.

  It was dusty and dark, but you couldn’t miss all the big wooden boxes lined up across the floor. We all got to work counting them. Even me.

  Harker finished first. “I count twenty-nine boxes.”

  “That’s what I get,” said Frankie. “Devin? You?”

  I held up all ten fingers. “Six more boxes than this.”

  “Sixteen?” said Frankie. “How did you get sixteen?”

  “Or maybe it was eight,” I said, looking at my hands.