Chapter 6
Still experiencing the wintry cold snap that froze the cellar's dirt floor as hard as cement, Amy and Ruthie woke to find snow blowing so hard through the glassless windows that a few fine flakes floated across the lids of their coffins hidden deep in the center of the cellar so as not to be seen by any possible but not probable curious passersby. As Amy closed her lid she remarked in fond reverie, "On evenings like this my maid would bring me chocolate in bed after tending to my fireplace and helping me undress. How cozy and secure I was back then and simply assumed that everyone lived as I did as though there were no other mode of living."
"Did your daddy ever own slaves?" Ruthie wondered in what circumstances Amy had acquired her own maid.
"No," Amy replied, "Father believed that paid help would be more loyal and conscientious than unpaid help."
"If you were so ignorant to think everybody lived as high as you, how did you think your maid lived?" Ruthie challenged, "did you think someone was going to undress her and give her chocolate in bed?"
"I can't help that I was born into a wealthy family, Ruthie, you needn't be so hostile, although, I must have been pretty ignorant because I never considered what my maid's life was like when she wasn't serving me." Amy felt uncomfortable as she realized how self-centered she was before meeting Robert. After meeting Robert, Amy completely forgot about herself except for her all-consuming need and desire to be with him. She gladly had given up the only life she knew to know his love and attention. Although she had no idea how much she would be giving up at the time, she would gladly do it again and would greet him with open arms if he ever returned to her. To feel his smooth warm skin after a successful night of hunting and feeding, his lips against her skin, his body held firmly against her own would be worth any sacrifice.
"How can you live in this dirty cold cellar after living so nice all your life?" Ruthie inquired.
"All that mattered was that Robert and I were together," Amy replied, "I would live anywhere to be with him."
"This is where you lived with Robert?" After hearing Amy's story of how they met at the ball Ruthie imagined Amy and Robert had continued a life in society, not in a musty cellar.
"This is where we lived when he left me. We moved from time to time to prevent being discovered. We hadn't been here for very long when he left," Amy's gaze had become soft as she remembered her short life with Robert and then became harder, "Now I have to stay here by chance he returns and wants me again. I can't leave here and risk missing him if he ever returns."
"Won't it be dangerous for us to stay here forever?" Ruthie asked, "What if someone wants to build a new house here and they find us in the cellar?"
Refusing to acknowledge the risk of danger in staying, Amy snapped, "This house was severely damaged by fire many years ago. If anyone was to rebuild it, they certainly would have before now."
"All right, don't get angry with me," Ruthie consoled Amy, "I wasn't gonna suggest we move. I was just asking."
"Well," Amy relaxed, "I suppose we should go out and find something or someone to feed on. Something warm would feel good, wouldn't it? Maybe we'll find ourselves some fresh slave hunters tonight," Amy was hopeful.
They put on their cloaks, even though they weren't necessary, in the event that townspeople should see the two vampires haunting the streets, they would attract less attention if they were dressed for the weather. They felt their way up the narrow dirt strewn stairs, lifted the door and exited the derelict house into the cold clear evening.
"What a lovely evening, Ruthie," Amy exclaimed as the wind that blew the snow into the basement blew their cloaks and dresses around them. Brush, which helped to conceal the lair of the vampires, had grown up and around the sides of the house during the years of neglect since the house was abandoned. Branches and brambles were pushed back and broken off just enough to forge a path from the back to the front of the house without revealing the girls' nightly traveled path. Amy and Ruthie held down their skirts in an attempt to protect them from being torn on the branches and briars as they passed.
"Except my hair is going to be ruined in this wind," Amy complained as her hood blew off while she attempted to hold down her skirts.
"No one's gonna be seeing you coming anyway," Ruthie replied.
"I suppose you're right, but I'd still like to look my best. This may be the night that Robert returns," Amy stepped out of the pathway behind Ruthie and replaced the fallen hood as her skirts and cloak flowed freely around her in the open space.
"Something is different here," Ruthie looked around the front of the house, "the path stops short in front of the house. It's always led all the way out to the street."
Amy brushed some stray hair back into her hood and surveyed the area, "I think someone was clearing some of this brush today, Ruthie," Amy moved closer to the front of the house where the charred porch looked fragile and dangerous.
Ruthie called to her as she began to follow, "Does it look like anybody's been in the house?"
"I can't tell," Amy tried to find footprints in the snow, "the wind has blown the snow and I can't make out any footprints, can you?"
"No, I can't either, but I don't like it at all," Ruthie looked around as though someone might be lurking near the house still, "Somebody cleared the brush away from the front of the house. That means at least one person was here today. I don't like it at all. They could have found us if they went inside."
"No one can go inside," Amy said with waning certainty, "I think the floors are too weak to hold a man's weight."
"We sure better hope so," Ruthie remarked.
"Why would anyone be clearing a path to this long abandoned house in the middle of winter?"
"Well," Ruthie deduced, "it couldn't stay abandoned forever. The city's growing and I expect they need to build more houses. There's gonna be a lot of people moving here to work in that new mill they building downtown. There's been more and more ships going in and out of here too, you know that. Where you think all those people gonna live?"
"I never considered it"
"Just like you never considered your maid unless she was waiting on you."
"I suppose not," Amy defended herself, "I never had to consider those things before."
"Well, now you have to," Ruthie stated pointedly, "your life depends on it."
Not finding any other evidence of intruders, the girls started toward town, "Ruthie, I know what you're thinking and I still don't want to move," Amy pleaded, "I can't take the chance of missing Robert if he returns. How will he find me if I move my lair?"
"Do you want him to find you with a stake in your heart or your head cut off?" Ruthie suggested, "What kind of homecoming would that be? If he wants to find you, he will."
"I just can't take that risk," Amy insisted. After a few minutes of silence during which Amy struggled to find a solution and Ruthie dwelled on the danger of Amy's obstinacy, Amy offered a suggestion, "There is a way we might be able to remain safely in our current lair."
"What's that?" Ruthie sounded skeptical. She was convinced that they should move far away and soon.
"We'll find ourselves a watchman."
"A what?" Ruthie asked, "How are we going to find someone who wants to guard two devils like us? Anyone who knows what we are is going to want to kill us."
"Not if we change his mind," Amy smiled, "we can make him do whatever we want. He will die for us before he allows anyone to harm us."
"The way I see it," Ruthie stopped walking and Amy stopped to listen, "we better pick up our coffins and our clothes and move tonight."
"Tonight!" Amy exclaimed as she stared incredulously at Ruthie.
"Yes, tonight. If someone was at the house today, it was for a reason. How do we know what someone might be planning to do with that house?" Ruthie pointed back toward the house, her cloak fluttering from her outstretched arm, "They might be planning to tear it down and build a new one in its place. They might be planning to clear out all those brambles and
trees to make it look better so they can sell it. Any way you look at it, someone is planning to do something with that house and that means the end of us!"
"Or maybe," Amy argued, "the work they did today was the only work to be done."
"You only say that because that's what you want to believe," Ruthie gripped Amy by the shoulders as Amy had done to her so many times, "think about it. Why would some one go to all the trouble of clearing out the front yard? They had to have a reason. No one clears out the yard of an abandoned house in the middle of winter unless it's for a good reason."
"How do you know?" Amy pouted.
"My master always said, it ain't worth doing anything unless there's a profit in it and I bet your daddy said the same thing."
"I wouldn't know," Amy continued to pout, "Father wouldn't speak about business while my mother and I were in the room. We were too delicate for such masculine subjects."
"Then you have to trust me," Ruthie insisted, "I've always trusted you, now it's your turn to do the trusting. I know you don't want to hear it, but we have to get out of that house tonight."
The two girls stared at each other, Ruthie with intense certainty and Amy with weakening resistance. Desperation and the will to live drove Ruthie to stand her ground against Amy who until now had been making most of the decisions regarding the girls' lifestyles. This decision, however, was a question of life or death and Ruthie couldn't allow Amys obsession for Robert, a man who in Ruthie's opinion coldly deserted her, to cause Amy to deny the facts and lead them to their deaths.
"We'll find a way to leave Robert a sign so he'll know where to find you," Ruthie suggested.
"We haven't discussed my idea about a guardian," Amy didn't want to give in to Ruthie even though she reluctantly believed that Ruthie was probably right.
"If someone is planning to do something in that house, no one is going to keep them out," Ruthie explained, "if we put a guardian in there and he kills any intruders, they'll just send more. Do you think he'd be able to kill everyone?"
"No," Amy dropped her head in sadness, "I suppose you're right, Ruthie."
"I know I am, but I want to help you too. I mean I understand why you don't want to move and I'm sorry, Amy," Ruthie put her arm around Amy's shoulders, "But right now we have to find a safe place to live."
"I need to feed first," Amy announced sadly her voice cracking and her feelings of grief and loss intensifying at the thought of leaving the lair behind forever, " and you need to feed as well. Then we'll spend the rest of the night searching for a new home."
"All right," Ruthie agreed, "after feeding we can think better."
"Shall we go directly to the docks or would you prefer to hunt one of your small animals?" Amy still pouted.
"I believe finding a horse or cow would be the fastest way to feed tonight."
"I suppose you're right," Amy began to walk in the direction of a nearby stable, "we have no time for stalking and hunting tonight."
Ruthie hurried to keep up with Amy who was angrily striding toward town and the public stable, "We'll have plenty of time tomorrow for stalking and hunting, but if we don't move tonight, there might not be a tomorrow for us."
Amy walked on as though she hadn't heard Ruthie and began to slow her pace as they neared the stable, "Before Robert and I would move, we would spend several days watching a particular place to ensure that it would be safe for us to move into. We didn't simply get up one evening and move that same night," Amy's expression changed from angry to worried, "how are we going to be sure any other place is safer than the place we are leaving?"
"I know it's going to be risky moving into a place we don't know," Ruthie sympathized, "but I'm afraid it's going to be riskier to stay where we are for another day."
"All right," Amy exhaled heavily, "let's feed and maybe that will clear our minds and better enable us to think of a plan."
Transforming into thin mists, the two girls seeped under the stable door and silently wafted into the nearest horse stall before any of the resting horses could detect them. Inside the stall they simultaneously rematerialized as they punctured the horse's skin with their teeth. Amy, choosing the soft underbelly, which had the thinnest hair, and Ruthie choosing the throat, fed quickly and hungrily before escaping the same way they had entered. The victimized horse was attacked so silently and smoothly that it stood in shock while the vampires escaped. However, the other horses detecting the vicious intruders as soon as they began to feed, cried and stomped in fear waking the stable boy who used all his skills to calm the horses as he attributed the mass uproar to trespassing rodents that occasionally startled them.
A few streets away Amy and Ruthie sat on a large stone as they drew stray horsehairs from their mouths. The wind had died down and although the temperature hadn't risen, the air didn't seem as frigid as the wind subsided. The streets were still snow covered with tracks worn from carts and sleighs that carried on the daily business of the city in spite of the weather. The ships needed to be loaded with outgoing cargo to England, the southern states and the West Indies and cargo was unloaded with incoming ships from the same places. Whalers needed to be outfitted and stocked with enough provisions to support a crew who could be out to sea for months or even years.
Although many people passed through the snowy rutted streets by day, Ruthie and Amy adhered to the shadows along trees and houses, rarely setting foot in the street. The boulder they were perched upon was behind a row of trees between two houses on a side street. The spot provided a safe environment to discuss their move.
"Well, Ruthie," Amy said as she spit the final horse hair from her mouth, "where do you propose we move to?"
Ruthie became annoyed at Amy's attitude. Amy had five years experience at living the life of the undead while Ruthie had only a few months. Because Amy was resistant to Ruthie's rational decision to move their lair, she was assuming Ruthie would take complete control and responsibility over something which she had little knowledge and no experience. In order to plan and execute the move in the small amount of time available, Ruthie ignored Amy's attitude for the time being.
"Now, you know I don't know nothing about choosing a safe lair for a vampire," Ruthie tried to keep her annoyance from showing by using a calm rational tone of voice, "our staying alive depends on you helping us find a place. How did you and Robert find a place?"
"To be quite honest," Amy dropped her sarcastic attitude, "Robert always chose our lair. I only followed along."
"Well, that's fine!" Ruthie exclaimed.
"Robert was the man and it's my duty to follow the man I love and make him happy," Amy adjusted her hair under her hood.
"You don't have a man to depend on and take care of you anymore," Ruthie stated and then regretted her words when she saw Amy's pained expression," I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of your loss."
"I haven't lost Robert," Amy was defiant again, "he will come back. I know he will."
"I'm sorry I said that anyway," Ruthie continued, "maybe if you think about it and tell me about the different places you lived, it will help us know what to look for in a new place. One thing I do know is that it has to be a place where nobody goes."
"Well, yes," Amy agreed, "that part doesn't need to be said. She thought for a minute, "We always stayed in cellars or attics in large older buildings. I suppose older buildings would have more belongings stored in those places for hiding our coffins."
"All right," Ruthie tried to think of some places that fit that description, but most of the houses within the city were smaller than the burned out one they were moving from.
"I think this is a good time to pray for help," Ruthie suggested, "I know the Lord has probably turned his back on a heathen like me, but I'll never turn my back on Him," Ruthie knelt on the snow covered ground and began to pray.
"I guess it might help," Amy said, but remained seated on the rock, "we can use any help we can get." Seeing Ruthie so deeply in prayer motivated Amy to concentrate on thinking of a su
itable lair. Her attitude was still resistant, but Ruthie's determination and Amy's love for Ruthie gave her the will to help Ruthie find a new lair and in doing so, peace of mind and a feeling of security. She waited for Ruthie to raise her head and suggested that they take a walk around the city in order to find a new home.
"Do you think your prayer will be answered, Ruthie?" Amy asked as they began their search.
"I have faith in Jesus," Ruthie spoke with certainty, "He answered my prayers before and unless He turned his back on me for becoming a tool of the devil, He'll answer me again."
"How do you know he answered your prayers before?" Amy was truly interested. She accompanied her mother to church every Sunday, read the scriptures, sung the hymns but she was only doing what she was told. Proper young ladies attended church, read the Bible and occasionally had the minister home for Sunday dinner. Except for marrying a man she didn't love to improve her father's business, Amy conformed to her parents' expectations of a good daughter. Her opinion of these expectations or her thoughts on religion were never considered or asked for so she blindly went through the motions without thinking about what she was doing or why.
"My master and mistress have a daughter who was married a while ago," Ruthie said confidently, "we grew up together because my mama was owned by my master and I took Mama's place after she passed on. My mama passed on when I was fourteen and Miss Susan was fifteen. After Mama died I was so sad and lonely I thought I was gonna die too and at times I wished I did. Susan was sad too because Mama took good care of Miss Susan and Miss Susan loved Mama even though Mama was just her slave. I think Mama paid more attention to Miss Susan than her own mama did. In fact, Miss Susan would make me sit in a corner or under the table when she wanted Mama's attention and I had to because she was master's daughter and I was just the slave's daughter and a slave myself. Mama would give me extra attention after Miss Susan would leave the room and tell me not to feel bad because she really loved me best and this was just the way things was and it was God's way. Anyway, after Mama died, Miss Susan got real ornery and instead of making me stay out of her way, she ordered me around and threatened to beat me if I didn't do as she said. It was like she blamed me for Mama dying. Master and Mistress let her get away with treating me so badly. They thought it was good practice for when she had her own house to take care of. Miss Susan also started eating a lot at that time. I don't know why, maybe it was because of her grief for Mama or just because she could. I would do the baking for the week--cakes, pies, and they wouldn't last more than two days because she would eat them. When Master and Mistress asked why they were gone, Miss Susan told them I ate them. I never even tasted them. After Mama died I could hardly eat anything I was so lonely and sad. Master and Mistress always believed everything Miss Susan told them. My punishment would be that I couldn't have nothing to eat for two days. They didn't even care that Miss Susan was getting fatter and fatter and I was getting thinner and thinner. So I started praying every morning, noon and night that Miss Susan would hurry up and get married. Right after her sixteenth birthday, she became a bride. That's how I know that Jesus answers my prayers."
"Didn't your master and mistress notice that after Susan was married, the baked goods lasted longer?" Amy asked.
"They just figured I finally learned my lesson and stopped stealing the food."
"That was an interesting story and I believe your prayers were answered, Ruthie, but with no disrespect, it took Jesus a year to marry Susan off and we don't have that long."
"You don't have any faith, do you?" Ruthie commented.
"I don't know if I do or I don't," Amy answered, "Why do you believe in Jesus anyway?"
"Because I'm gonna go to heaven when I die and live forever with Jesus," Ruthie's expression clouded, "at least I was going to. Now I'm not so sure."
"If you're lucky you'll never have to find out," Amy remarked.
"We better stop talking and start finding a new lair," Ruthie stood and looked around her as though she could see the entire city from her position, "It needs to be a place in the outskirts of town, so the waterfront won't do."
"Yes," Amy agreed, "we need to find another secluded area where we can rest in peace during the day and safely slip out and back in at night. We don't want anything or anyone to prevent us from getting inside before dawn."
"Let's move westward so we're closer to sunset and further from the sunrise," Ruthie suggested.
"All right, Ruthie," Any agreed, "but I don't think that will make any difference. We won't be moving that far west."
"I was just trying to lift your spirit," Ruthie smiled, "I know it won't make a difference. We were living on the edge of the east side of town until now and the east side has the most people, so I reason the west end of town is a good area to consider," Ruthie explained, "Besides, we only have a few hours to decide."
"Yes," Amy stood reluctantly and straightened her skirts, "I suppose we should find a place quickly if we're to move tonight."
"Let's move west then," Ruthie suggested as they silently headed in that direction, "that at least gives us an area to search."
Walking westward put the two girls' backs to the river and in doing so the wind to their backs. Although the wind had died down considerably, there was always a breeze coming off the river blowing through the center of the commercial district, along the residential area and breaking like a wave against the courthouse at the top of State Street.
After a few moments of walking in silence, Amy said, "I'm not so certain this direction is the best."
"You don't think we will be safe up this way?" Ruthie asked apprehensively.
"Once we're past the business section, it might be safer and a little less busy, but that's not my concern," Amy seemed reluctant to speak.
"What is then?"
Amy didn't answer right away and her lack of composure made Ruthie anxious, "My parents live in this direction. I can't afford to be seen by them and I'd rather not see them either."
"Oh," Ruthie said, "it's freezing out. I don't think we will be seen by anyone, even your parents."
"I suppose you're right," Amy answered with uncertainty in her voice, "but I think I'm more frightened to see them than I am of their discovering me."
"Why?"
"I've been on the other side of town for five years avoiding them. They probably think I've been dead all this time. I'm sure they have accepted and adjusted to my untimely death. But I'm still here. All this time I've known where they are and I've missed them. I still miss them no matter how badly they treated me in the past. I'm afraid that if I see them again, I'll be in mourning all over again. I don't want to have those wounds opened again especially now that I don't have Robert here to console me and remind me how my gains have been well worth my loss. Do you understand?" Amy slowed her pace as they left the area of commerce.
"No, I don't think I do," Ruthie answered honestly, "I think that if my momma were still alive, I'd want to see how she was and if she was being treated right."
"But wouldn't it break your heart not to be able to speak to her?"
"Sure it would, but I would still have to see her. I know I wouldn't be able to stay away."
They slowly walked in silence as Amy considered what Ruthie said and wondered if she had the strength to live that way, being so close to her loved ones but unable to make herself known. Ruthie wondered how Amy could live in such close proximity to her family and never be tempted to look in on them, not even once.
The courthouse loomed closer, stoically holding its long-held position at the head of the street, facing the river as it had since before the Revolution and the burning of the city by the traitor Benedict Arnold.
"Why are we stopping here?" Ruthie asked Amy as they stood in the shadow of an elm.
Amy stared across the street and said, "That's my family's house, Ruthie. This is the first time I've seen it in five years."
Ruthie's eyes widened in awe, "You came from there?"
"Yes."
"And you gave all that up for a man you didn't even know?"
"I knew that I loved him and I'd do it all over again."
They remained behind the elm as they studied the house, Ruthie in awe and Amy in bitter sadness. The house itself stood majestically in the center of a rolling lawn surrounded by a stone wall. The Queen Anne architecture was sprawling and ornate, a sure sign of wealth and prosperity with its turrets and balconies and porches. Lights were on in a room on the second floor giving the imposing structure a warm glow.
"Which room was yours?" Ruthie broke into Amy's cold, lonely mood.
After a moment's hesitation, Amy quietly responded, "You can't see it from here, it's on the other side of the house."
"Will you show me?"
"I suppose so since we've come this far," Amy answered reluctantly. She had mixed feelings about looking up at her cold dark room-the room she fled to be with Robert as he stood on the balcony with open arms. She felt alone and lost lurking outside of her family's home unable to join them and abandoned by Robert, the only man she would ever love. Amy led Ruthie around the corner of the block where the western side of the house became visible and Ruthie could see that the property extended for an entire city block. Pointing up toward a small ornamental balcony on the second floor, Amy whispered, "That was my room."
"Good Lord!" Ruthie exclaimed, "Only three of you lived in that big house?"
"There were four of us when my brother was home from school and the servants had rooms on the top floor."
"Your daddy must be as rich as a king," Ruthie mused.
"I suppose so."
"And he wanted you to marry into a family that would make him even richer?"
"Men who value wealth over love can never be rich enough, Ruthie. They always want more wealth."
"I'd sure like to know how it feels to live in a house like that."
"Would you trade your mother's love to live there?"
"No, of course not. It wouldn't be worth having if I couldn't share it with Momma."
"That's exactly the way I felt about Robert. I gave up my life of wealth to live with him in cellars and attics and never regretted it once."
"Amy," Ruthie called as she followed Amy further around the block toward the rear of the house, "What kind of a cellar does this house have?"
"Why do you ask, Ruthie?" Amy stopped and turned to face her friend, "You can't possibly be suggesting we move into my father's house."
"It's the safest place we've seen so far," Ruthie stated, "We need to find a place to stay today. We would only have to stay until we find another place."
"How can you say that it's safe? My father or mother or one of the servants could see me and recognize me," Amy turned her back to Ruthie and continued walking away from the house, "I can't let them know I'm alive."
"You're not alive," Ruthie countered, "you're a creature that walks at night and feeds off the blood of living things. Maybe that's what you're afraid of, that you'll feed off a member of your family."
"No, no, no!" Amy put her hands over her ears, "I couldn't bear such a thing."
Ruthie nodded her head in acknowledgment, "That is what you're afraid of."
Amy sank to the ground behind a stone wall, her cloak and skirts spreading around her on the snowy ground. She took her hands from her ears and covered her face. "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt my family."
"Amy," Ruthie sat facing Amy, her cloak and skirts mingling with Amy's in the snow, "you're not like that. You don't feed off the first human you see when you rise. You always have a lot of self-control and find an acceptable victim. There is no chance that you would hurt your family."
"Do you really think so?" Amy looked hopefully at Ruthie whose expression of compassion reassured her and gave Amy hope and strength, "All right, Ruthie," she sighed reluctantly, " we can stay in my father's cellar, just until we find a better place. If we get our things now, everyone should be asleep by the time we return."
"Thank you, Amy," Ruthie said in relief and gratitude, "I'm so happy we found a safe place and can escape that old dangerous place."
"If Robert returns and sees that I've left our lair, he will be sure to look for me near my family's home."
"Do you think so?" Ruthie seemed unsure of Amy's idea. "He knows you haven't been near their house in five years. Why would he think he'd find you there now?"
"Where else would I go?" Amy replied, "He doesn't know I have you for a companion. He would assume that I'm alone."
"That's true," Ruthie agreed.
Amy and Ruthie returned across town using a different route than they had used earlier to avoid the chance of being seen twice in one night by the same person. This route also kept them well away from the stable where they had caused such a scene earlier. By this time of night, fewer lights were burning and even fewer people were out in the dark and frozen streets. As they neared the burnt out shell they had been calling home, they slowed their pace to carefully inspect their surroundings as they always did on their return.
"Ruthie," Amy stopped and pulled Ruthie closer, "I smell blood. I never smell blood here."
"Somebody must be in the house!" Ruthie exclaimed in hushed alarm.
"Why would anyone be here at this time of night?' Amy wondered out loud, "Robert!"
Ruthie held Amy back as she started to run to the house, "Wait! You don't know who it is. It could be a trap."
Amy's hopeful expression changed to one of caution as she considered Ruthie's logic, "We have to see who it is. We have to get to our things."
"I don't see any horses," Ruthie whispered as they moved closer to the house, staying in the shadows of the various trees and overgrowth.
"Why would someone be walking out here this late?" Ruthie asked, "Wait. I just saw a light moving on the first floor. Like someone carrying a candle."
"It must only be one person," Amy moved decidedly toward the front door, "Obviously, it was a mistake to assume the old burnt floors couldn't hold the weight of a man."
"What are you going to do?" Ruthie followed behind Amy. She had a good idea what Amy was planning to do.
Amy put her ear to the front door and listened for sounds inside the house. The door was ajar allowing her to hear feet shuffling along the filthy, charred floors. With Ruthie close behind, Amy entered the house and peered through the freezing darkness in search of the intruder. They were careful to feel their way through the rooms, as the floors were thin and weak in places. They learned the intruder was a man when he began to cough, which also gave away his exact location. His coughing stopped as soon as the young vampires entered the room where he was picking through the rubble as though looking for lost treasure.
"You won't find anything here," Amy startled him as she entered the room and knowing for certain the intruder wasn't Robert.
"What!" the panicked man dropped his candle, which immediately went out as he abruptly turned around to see Amy and Ruthie standing over him, their fangs bared in readiness. He quickly straightened and tried to run but instantly fell through a weakened floorboard and landed in the cellar with a thud. Ruthie and Amy stood over the jagged hole in which he fell looking into the cellar to see the stunned man draped over Amy's coffin. The girls jumped through the hole and drained the trespasser as he lay unconscious.
"Who do you think he was?" Ruthie asked Amy as they tossed the body to the floor.
"He's dressed poorly and didn't have a horse, so I'd say he was looking for shelter in the wrong place."
"The poor man," Ruthie shook her head.
"Let's get our things and take them to our new lair," Amy began packing dresses into her coffin and Ruthie did the same.
"Let's make certain that we leave nothing behind," Amy looked around to be sure she packed all her belongings, "except him." Amy smiled and nudged the corpse with the toe of her shoe.
"That man being here is a sign," Ruthie declared as she gathered her things, "that's the first time we've ever seen anyone here. It's a goo
d thing we're leaving tonight because I'm sure we would be found if we stayed another day."
"You may be right, Ruthie," Amy prepared to exit the cellar, "you seem to be right about most things lately."
"Why, thank you for noticing," Ruthie smiled, "no one's ever told me that before."
"No one's ever told me that either," Amy laughed.
After packing their belongings into their coffins, Amy taught Ruthie how to transform a coffin into a size more manageable for traveling. She bit into her own arm just as she had done to feed Ruthie the night Ruthie was transformed into a vampire. Dropping large drops of blood on top of her coffin, she began smearing it into the glossy varnish until the casket began to diminish in size. Ruthie, mesmerized by what she was witnessing, momentarily forgot about the man they just murdered even though his cooling corpse lay only a few feet away. When the size of Amy's coffin was reduced to shoe box size, she stopped rubbing, picked up the casket and turned smiling at Ruthie.
"Now it's your turn."
Ruthie still stood staring in astonishment then slowly repeated Amy's actions just as she did the night at the tailor's shop when she learned to turn to a foggy mist to gain entrance. She was even more amazed and pleased with herself as she saw and felt her coffin shrinking under her guiding hand. As she finished and was holding her own miniature coffin she asked, "How do we make them grow again?"
"The same way," Amy answered gaily, content with having taught Ruthie a new skill.
"Why don't we do this every night, so we can hide them better when we're out?" Ruthie asked, "and why didn't you show me how to do this before?"
"We need to keep them at full size at night," Amy explained, "They have to be ready and waiting if by chance we have difficulty returning before dawn. They must be ready for us to enter quickly."
Ruthie nodded in acknowledgement and without looking back, the vampires fled their former lair and although Amy was apprehensive about moving into her family home, Ruthie was excited to be moving into such an exquisite mansion which she had never dreamed of inhabiting in any capacity except servant or slave. Even with the added burden of wardrobe-filled coffins, the journey across town was swift and uneventful and before long they arrived at the cellar door at the rear of the house.
"I think everyone is asleep," Ruthie said, "I didn't see any lights."
"There still may be a servant up to tend the fires," Amy facetiously remarked, "you remember doing that, don't you?"
"Only too well," Ruthie said with regret.
"I'll slip in and open the door for you."
"Since it is your house," Ruthie relented. She still felt sad for killing the poor man who was desperately trying to get warm in the cold dark abandoned house, but was anxious to feel safe and hidden again.
Ruthie held onto both coffins while Amy slipped under the door that seemed tiny against the massive structure of the house. A moment later the doorknob jiggled and rattled and the wooden door stiffly and slowly creaked open. Amy emerged to relieve Ruthie from her burden of two coffins as she took possession of her own and eased it into the basement. Ruthie followed with her own coffin and Amy closed the door behind them, shutting out what little moonlight entered through the small cellar entrance.
"Be careful not to bump into anything and make noise," Amy whispered, "we mustn't wake anyone."
"I can barely see." Ruthie admitted, "are you familiar with this cellar?"
"No, of course not," Amy was insulted, "I was raised to adorn the parlor, not toil in the cellar."
"You never been in the cellar of your own house?" Ruthie asked incredulously.
"Not since I was a child when my brother and I would chase each other through the house. I was scolded for getting my dress dirty and forbidden from ever entering the cellar again," Amy admitted, "my mother told me that getting dirty was sinful for pretty girls like me and not at all ladylike in the least."
"If your momma thought gettin' some dust on your dress was sinful, she better not ever see how you live now," Ruthie remarked.
"Exactly," Amy looked around to find a safe hiding place for their coffins. The cellar odor contained the expected scent of dust and must from neglect and disuse; however, Amy could detect the familiar scent of her childhood and family mingling in the dark interior of the basement causing her to experience mixed feelings of comfort, grief, security and loss all at once. She remembered the comfort and security she took for granted as a young girl and also the grief and loss of never being able to be a part of her family again. It also offered Amy a fresh stab of pain from her loss of Robert, the man she gave up all her family security to be with.
"We should find a place further from the door in case somebody comes in from outside," Ruthie suggested.
"Let's leave them here against the side wall for now while we scout around for a more appropriate place," Amy helped Ruthie set the miniature coffins against the wall and led the way deeper into the cellar.
"Good Lord!" Ruthie exclaimed in a whisper, "this cellar has more rooms than my master's whole house."
"A man's home is a testament to his wealth and in my father's case, a testament to his excellent business acumen."
"Why do you use such big words? You know I don't know what you're talking about," Ruthie said in frustration.
"I'm sorry, Ruthie," Amy apologized, "but since I wasn't allowed to get dirty or muss my hair, I spent a lot of time in the nursery with my governess. When I was older I was allowed to use my father's library. He collected many books but never read them himself. He needed an impressive library in his impressive house," Amy stopped and turned to Ruthie, "Can you read, Ruthie?"
"No," Ruthie answered sadly, "I wasn't allowed to read. Mistress said I didn't need to be able to read to bake bread and stoke fires. I wanted to learn to read if only to be able to read the Bible on my own."
"There are a lot more pleasant things to read than the Bible," Amy turned to advance further into the depths of the cellar.
"How evil you talk, Amy," Ruthie said disapprovingly.
"Maybe we should stop talking for now."
"Fine by me."
Composed of several smaller rooms, the cellar was inspected by the vampires as they searched a suitable new lair. One room, which was located near the stairs leading to the first floor was stocked with household items such as candles, lamp oil, and floor wax where a servant would visit quite frequently. Another room contained unused or rejected furniture and artwork. Still another room was almost completely neglected except for a few empty barrels. The first room they had entered from the outside held gardening implements that had been collecting dust since fall but were sure to be re-employed in the spring. Also, in this room some lattice strips and roofing shingles left from when the house was built twenty years earlier were stored to aid in eventual maintenance expected from age and weather.
After searching the entire cellar, Ruthie asked, "so which room do we choose?"
"I think the safest place would be the room used for discarded furniture. The pieces are in disarray although neatly covered for possible future use and protection. We can move the coffins to the far side of the room behind the furniture. If we use any of the other rooms, we will be at a greater risk of discovery."
"Let's put them in place before dawn breaks," Ruthie led the way back to the coffins, "it must be nearing dawn."
Without too much rearranging, the vampires were safely embedded in their new lair. Amy and Ruthie worked together quickly and quietly and were soon side-by-side in their caskets well before the sun rose. Finally able to relax in the warmth and security of their improved accommodations the girls were allowed the ability to reflect on their evening of fear, insecurity and ultimate triumph.
As they lay side-by-side in the silence of the dark, but draft-free cellar, Amy listened to Ruthie's bedtime prayers before closing the lid. Even though Amy refused to join Ruthie in her prayers, Ruthie hoped that Amy's listening to Ruthie's praying would somehow help Amy's soul. Ruthie wasn't sure if prayi
ng helped her soul anymore now that she was an evil creature, but she never gave up hope or her faith. When her prayer was finished she asked Amy:
"Do you still believe Jesus doesn't answer my prayers?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I prayed for him to help us find a safe home and here we are, right in the bosom of your momma and poppa."
Knowing her parents were upstairs, yet not being able to make herself know to them, the pain of losing Robert, and Ruthie's words blended together and struck some deeply buried wound in Amy and she began to cry deep wracking sobs of sorrow and grief.
"Good Lord, honey," Ruthie climbed out of her coffin to comfort Amy. She climbed into Amy's coffin and held her close as Amy sobbed as though her heart was breaking so as never to be mended, "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned your momma and poppa upstairs. It's gonna be all right. Oh Lord, maybe I shouldn't have talked you into moving here. It's just too much for you to bear. I'm sorry, honey, I'm sorry."
Amy silently cried and cried until her weeping was reduced to intermittent sobs. Ruthie dabbed at Amy's tears with the skirt of her dress until her face was clean and dry all the while murmuring words of comfort and apology. Amy's mind finally allowed her to study Ruthie's actions and words after her soul-cleansing cry and gradually she began to silently giggle. The giggles grew stronger as Ruthie seemed surprised and perplexed by Amy's radical mood change. Then Ruthie caught Amy's giggles and they were both laughing together so hard, their fangs were bared and almost glowed in the night.
"Oh, Ruthie," Amy exclaimed between giggles, "You are the best friend I've ever had and ever will have. I love you completely."
Ruthie returned Amy's hug and said, "I don't know what we're laughing at, but you're my best friend too."
"Don't you see, Ruthie," Amy seemed happier than Ruthie had ever seen her and she was completely bewildered as to how the change had suddenly come about, "I had all these feelings about losing my family buried and denied because of my complete love and devotion to Robert. Your convincing me to come here made me finally face those feelings and realize all the support and comfort that my father and mother provided me with but I had taken for granted. All I knew was the anger and resentment I held for them when they engaged me to that ship owner's son without my consent and in doing so denied me the man I truly loved."
"So, you forgive them now?" Ruthie asked.
"Yes, I do," Amy admitted, "they were only expecting me to honor the family by marrying someone who would only bring the family more prosperity and security. My children would have been well taken care of."
"Now you won't have children at all," Ruthie reminded Amy, "neither will I."
"No, we won't," Amy's smile faded.
"Why did your daddy build such a big house for only four people? Why didn't you have a bigger family to fill up this big house?"
"They had planned a large family," Amy whispered, "I had an older sister, Elizabeth, who died of fever before I was born. There were three other children born after me but before my brother, who all died before the age of five. One was born dead, another was born deformed and died shortly after birth, and the third died of fever the same as Elizabeth. The first two were boys, Ethan and Jeremiah. The little girl was Isabel. She was a sweet little girl of three when she died. She's the only one I remember because I was almost six when she died. I can't imagine the sorrow and despair my mother and father have endured over the years. And I caused them even more. Now they only have Samuel. Maybe it's better that we won't have children, Ruthie. This way we'll avoid all that heartache, although I would love to have had Robert's children. His children would have been so beautiful and I would still have a small part of him, in them, with me now."
"If everyone decided not to have children because of the heartache, nobody would try to have children," Ruthie stated, "and there's always more children being brought into the world."
"I suppose so. As long as people continue to wed, I suppose children will continue to be born to them." Amy sighed, "I also suppose we better lay ourselves to rest."
Ruthie climbed back into her own coffin, "The good Lord willing, tomorrow's another day."
"Ruthie?" Amy called just as Ruthie was about to lower her lid.
"Huh?" Ruthie said, her lid half open.
"I'm sorry I turned you into a vampire-a tool of the devil-as you call it. It was very selfish of me to take your life away without your consent."
Ruthie didn't answer right away as she fought with her mixed emotions, the same complex emotions she had been dealing with for months. She was angry and resentful toward Amy for assaulting her and transforming her life and defying her strong Christian beliefs, but Amy had become her best friend, the only person who had ever treated her as an equal. Amy listened to her and respected her opinions even if she didn't agree with them. Even though Ruthie was now what she knew was a heathen and an evil creature, at the same time, Amy had helped Ruthie to feel better about herself. She felt more human now than she did in her former life of enforced servitude.
"Are you going to say anything?"Amy whispered.
"What's done is done, Amy," Ruthie finally answered, "Like I said before, you're my best friend. If you hadn't of transformed me, I never would have had you as a friend. In fact, I might never have ever had a friend at all ever. I still have faith in Jesus and that won't ever change. I can only pray that He still has faith in me."
Ruthie's words only made Amy more sorrowful and her regret deepened. Ruthie didn't say that she forgave Amy, only that she accepted what Amy had done to her, "I do love you, Ruthie."
"I love you too," Ruthie closed her lid and Amy quickly did the same.
A few hours later a group of workmen arrived at Amy and Ruthie's former lair. They arrived in a horse drawn work cart filled with the tools necessary to complete the demolition of the house. Breath clouds billowed from their lips like smoke from a pipe of tobacco as they spoke amongst themselves, jumping from the cart and reaching back in for the tools of their choice. As they organized themselves before beginning the day's work ahead they were too involved in keeping their hands and feet warm to notice a man dressed completely in black quickly exiting the cellar door and slipping into the thin woods behind the house. It wasn't long though, after they entered the building to inspect the conditions of the structure that they found the frozen, bloodless corpse on the cellar floor just as Amy and Ruthie had left him.