Chapter Chapter Seven
“Okay, so we need shampoo, deodorant, flea and tick spray, rawhide chewies, and, what’s this last one?”
Wit held the shopping list in front of Gary.
“Condoms,” Gary mumbled.
“You expect me to buy your condoms? Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t get paid for a couple of days, and I’m going to see Charisse tomorrow. I think we’re at that point. I don’t want to be unprepared.”
“Charisse? You keep mentioning this Charisse yet we have never met her. Are you ashamed of us?” Joey asked as he leaned in through the sliding window from the back of the El Camino.
“Of course, I’m ashamed of you, but that’s not the reason. You know how complicated our lives are. I don’t want to bring anyone into the mix until I’m pretty sure she can handle it. You’ll meet her soon enough.”
“I think you’re afraid I’ll steal her away from you,” Joey jibed.
“I don’t think you’re her type.”
“What do you mean ‘not her type’? Do you mean because I’m a vampire? Or is it ‘cause I’m white?”
“A couple of reasons. For one thing, there’s an age difference. She’s older than I –“
“Gary, I’m over four hundred years old. How old could she be? Just because I turned when I was sixteen, I mean, jeez, my whole life I’ve been sixteen. Dating teen-age girls. Teen-age girls! The babbling! The giggling! If I have to hear about Zack or Justin again I’m gonna throw myself on a stake! Just once I’d like to spend time with a real woman. Have an intelligent conversation. Make love. Do you know what it’s like to get a sixteen year old girl to allow you to get anything more than a little action under the sweater? It’s near impossible!”
“Joey.”
“Yes.”
“Are you finished?”
“I guess.”
“You need to get laid.”
“Tell me about it.”
Joey turned and slumped into the truck bed allowing his head to repeatedly bounce against the rear window of the El Camino as it rolled into the grocery store’s parking lot.
“Anyway, getting back to Charisse.” Wit attempted to get the conversation back on track.” Do you really think she might be the one? That’s huge.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Nice, Gary, I’m trying to carry on a meaningful conversation and you start tossing around the one- liners.”
“Sorry. Yeah, I’m thinking she might be the one that can handle our little family of misfits. I think Reese will like her. You’re lucky to have someone like Reese. I see how you two are together and wish I had that for myself.”
Gary sighed and stuck his head out of the open window, allowing the breeze to rush through his hair.
“So you think Reese will be okay with this predicament I’ve gotten myself into?”
“Nope. I think she’s gonna kill you.” Gary continued to hang out of the window.
“Yeah. I’m dead.” Wit pulled the El Camino into an open space leaving about fifteen vacant spaces between him and the next vehicle.
“You guys coming in or staying in the car?”
“Car,” replied Gary.
“Car,” replied Joey.
“Okay, but don’t play with the radio,” Wit said, managing to stop Gary in mid-reach.
The walk from the car to the store front was considerably farther than Wit could throw a baseball but the walk was worth it to him if it meant keeping scratches off of the El Camino. He re-read the list as he walked, periodically glancing ahead for possible obstacles. He listened to the slight echo from his footsteps only to realize that they weren’t quite in synch with his stride. He stopped abruptly and heard two more footsteps, then silence. Wit looked around but saw no one near. He began walking again but didn’t hear the echoes. He shrugged and walked into the store.
The bright fluorescent lights made Wit squint. He opted to grab a basket since his shopping trip didn’t merit a cart.
“Pet Care and Pharmacy,” Wit said to himself.
He looked up at the overhead signage to plot a course through the store. A figure moved quickly out of view as Wit looked into the security mirror just to his right. He focused his stare and continued to watch himself as he walked toward the pharmacy.
“Let’s see, ah, Sport Scent,” Wit said as he placed the deodorant into the basket.
A faint shuffle came from the end of the aisle. Wit turned to see a shadow bend around the corner. A quick peek back at the security mirror revealed nothing. Moving farther up the aisle Wit selected a “Mountain Fresh” scented hair and body wash and placed it along side of the deodorant. Wit reviewed the list.
“Ugh. Gary’s condoms.” Wit sighed and walked over towards the pharmacy counter.
“Ribbed for her pleasure, reservoir tip, lubricated. Jeez, Gary, thanks for this,” Wit grumbled. “Magnum. Well, you’re getting the benefit of the doubt, Gary.”
Wit pulled the package off of the hook and tossed it into the mix.
A stifled sneeze sounded from one aisle behind Wit. Another glance at the security mirror presented the top of a blonde head with its hair pulled back into a ponytail. Wit’s heart jumped into his throat.
“Shit! It’s her!”
Wit scanned the immediate area for a quick exit. Noting that all paths out of the store would lead him directly past her, he prepared for the confrontation. Crouching low, he quickly rounded the corner swinging the basket as if he were a pro bowler in peak form. The upswing missed its target as the blonde ducked. The basket’s follow-through cleared a shelf’s worth of baby powder, sending a poof of white dust into the air. Off balance, Wit tumbled to the floor. Face down, Wit felt a boot step onto his back between his shoulder blades.
“Whoa, dude, chill out!” A familiar voice came from above. “Promise to behave and I’ll give you a hand up.”
The boot was removed and Wit slowly turned over. Though a baby powder haze Wit could see Conan towering over him. He reached down, took wit by the forearm and pulled him to his feet.
“Conan? Why all the sneaking around?” Wit, relieved, started to dust off.
“I wasn’t sure how you would feel about running into me, after, you know, what happened last night.”
Conan began brushing powder off of Wit’s shoulders and straightening his collar. He licked his thumb and ran it across each of Wit’s eyebrows. The memory of Wit’s mother moistening a napkin with her own saliva in order to wipe his messy face flashed through Wit’s mind. He pulled back and motioned that he was fine. Conan stooped to pick up the basket and its scattered contents, taking note of the contents.
“Magnums. Well, well, well. Very impressive, Mr. Witmoore.” Conan smiled as he dropped them into the basket.
“They’re not mine! I’m getting them for a friend,” Wit stammered.
“Then lucky him and lucky you.” Conan winked.
“No, it’s not like that! He doesn’t get paid for . . . he has a girlfriend . . .”
“Oh, look at you blush. There’s no need to be embarrassed. We’re both adults. It’s okay. Really.”
“You don’t understand. I’m not like that. Like you, I mean . . . Last night was a mistake. It wasn’t as it seemed. I’m sorry. I wish I could explain.”
Wit, exasperated, sighed and looked at the floor.
Conan nested his hand beneath Wit’s chin and raised it up to see Wit’s eyes.
“It was hard for me at first, too. Call me if you need a friend or just to talk.” Conan stroked the side of Wit’s face with the back of his hand.
“And Honey, lose the stubble. You’re more the squeaky clean type.”
Conan winked, turned and walked away.
A thoroughly embarrassed and lightly-powdered Wit made his way back to the El Camino. Gary returned the radio to its proper station and lowered the volume before Wit made it to the driver’s side door.
“Why do you look so dusty?” Gary asked, taking the grocery bag from Wit as he handed it through the window.
Joey leaned in to hear the conversation.
“A little mishap in the baby powder aisle.”
“What do you mean mishap?” Joey asked.
“I ran into Conan, almost literally. He still thinks I’m gay. Not only gay, but gay with a well endowed partner, thanks to Gary’s condoms. He told me that I’m cute when I’m blushing. Oh. And I also need a shave.”
Wit paused then quickly turned to Joey who turned to Gary who turned back to Wit who grabbed the rear view mirror and turned it to face him.
“Joey, I need a shave!”
“And you blushed!”
“That can’t be possible. All that kind of stuff stopped back when I turned! Something is very wrong. Joey, what do you think this means?”
“Blushing means blood flow. Your hair is growing again. No fangs. I hate to say it. I think you might be alive again.”
“Alive? No. I can’t be. This is freaking me out.”
“That blonde really fucked you up big time,” Gary added.
“Well thank you, Mr. Obvious!” Wit snapped.
“Hey, it isn’t his fault! Just cool it. Let’s take a second a think about this.” Joey rubbed his eyes and took a beat. “We now, more than ever, need to get back to the restaurant and search for clues. Something, anything that might help us to figure out why she did this to you.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. “But, before we go, I’ve got one thing more to say.”
“What?”
“Wit’s got a boyfriend. Wit’s got a boyfriend,” Joey sang, as if he were seven years old.