Vampire Dancing (9 page)

And there he remained, wrapped in unrelenting sorrow, until hunger drove him out under the hood of night.

To feed
.

01:33 am
...

Wiley walks over to the subway car end door and peers through one of its two windows. The neighboring car is completely empty.

“You're not allowed through those,” Len says. “They're locked.”

Wiley turns from the door. “I can't believe you just said that, you stupid, bulbous fuckhead. You think I can't see the lock? Or the warning stickers on the door?”

Len wears a blank expression.

“If I wanna go through the door,” Wiley goes on, “I'll stick my knife between the handle and lock and perform a little magic.”

Screwball gets up and slaps Len across the head.

“Ow!”

“I'll give you sumthin to 'ow' over,” Screwball says.

Len scowls. “You just did.”

Wiley mutters something to himself then turns back to the door. The two panels slide apart a few inches then close again. “What the hell?” He takes hold of the handle and opens the door. “Well whaddaya know, it ain't even locked.”

“Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll all be open,” Screwball says.

“Only one way to find out,” Wiley replies. “Come on.” He slips through the opening.

The second car they enter is occupied by two couples. They seem to be together, and look warily at the four men. Wiley and company give each of them the evil eye, and continue their journey. There's only one person in the third car they pass through: a gray-haired old man. He's sound asleep.

The group is midway through the next again car when the train begins to slow to the usual symphony of brake noise. A pre-recorded female voice informs them they've arrived at Astor Place. Soon after that, the exterior doors open onto the platform and they're told the next stop is Bleecker Street.

Wiley peers into the neighboring car through a side window at the end of the aisle. “I can see them. They're still seated.”

Screwball pokes his head out of the train and looks both ways. “Place is as dead as Kobie's sex life.”

“Fuckin' asshole,” Kobie grunts.

Stand clear of the closing door, please
.

Ding-dong
.

Screwball steps back before the door closes. A poster by the side of the door for after sun lotion catches his eye. More specifically, the bikini clad girl in the picture catches his eye. “Some god damn titties on that,” he mutters.

The train pulls away from the platform.

Kobie stuffs his hands into the large front pocket of his hoodie. “You sure 'bout this, Wiley?”

Wiley is still gazing into the next car, and doesn't appear to hear Kobie.

“Just ... I still got this feelin',” Kobie goes on, “and it ain't good.”

Wiley turns to the others - “Okay, let's do this” - then opens the end door.

Kobie reluctantly follows.

The man and woman occupying the adjacent car immediately look intimidated.

“Well it's never good news, is it?” Wiley says. “When a bunch like us enters your subway car.” He flicks open his switchblade.

The man and woman get up from their seats.

Wiley nods with approval. “Glad to see you're as enthusiastic to get this party going as I am.”

“Please,” the man says. “What do you want? Money?” He reaches into his back pocket.

Kobie brushes past Wiley. “I'll take your money.”

The man opens his wallet. He pulls out some bills and hands them to Kobie. “Here, take it.”

Kobie snatches the cash. “That all you got?” He peers into the open wallet - “Whatever” - then walks away, counting.

“So he's got what he wants,” Wiley says. “Now I want what
I
want.”

“I - I don't have anymore,” the man says.

“Oh yes you do,” Wiley says. “Behind you.”

The man shakes his head and feigns confusion.

“Step out, girl,” Screwball says. “Come on, don't be shy now.”

The woman steps out from behind her boyfriend. She holds onto his arm.

Screwball flips his baseball hat in reverse. “Now ain't that better. What you wanna go hidin' for anyway? Pretty girl like you.” He turns to Wiley. “I'd
so
give her fuck pain.”

The boyfriend squeezes his girlfriend's hand. “It's going to be okay.”

“Gimme your names,” Wiley says.

He's met with silence.

Wiley holds the switchblade in front of his face. “Names. Now. Or so help me, I'll cut you.”

“J- Jeff.”

He looks to the woman. “And?”

The woman looks away.

Wiley steps close to Amanda. “Hey, bitch, don't you turn away from me.
Name
.”

“It's Amanda,” she replies.

“Amanda,” Wiley says. “That's gorgeous.” He turns to the others. “I'm taking a stiffy over her name, can you fuckin' believe this?"

"I sure as hell can," Screwball says. “I got a little chunky goin' on right now.”

Len is looking at his feet. He's either oblivious to what's going on or he's trying his best to ignore it.

Wiley notices a teddy bear key chain dangling from one of the belt loops on Amanda's jeans. It has a pink sweater on.

“What's this all about?” he asks, and examines the bear closer.

Amanda remains silent.

Wiley lets go of the chain. “You don't think you're a little old for teddy bears?” He looks the woman over, then slides an arm around her waist. He ventures his hand down over her rump; looks at Jeff; dares him to intervene. Jeff does nothing, but Wiley can see he's fighting hard to hold himself back.

“Please ...” Amanda croaks.

“Please what?” Wiley says.

Amanda looks away, but there's no escaping what's going on. She can see it reflected back at her in the window.

“Please what?” Wiley says again. “Please, more?” He slides his hand lower. “You want more of this?” He senses Jeff is about to make his move. He isn't worried. If loverboy tries anything, he'll be smiling out of his neck. Wiley moves his face close to Amanda's. She's refusing to look him in the eye. “I bet you like it rough. Straight-laced bitches like you always do.”

“Just stop it!” Amanda shouts, and pushes Wiley away.

Wiley's response is an angry one: “You fuckin' bitch, I'm gonna-”

The train begins to slow.

“Shit,” Screwball says. “Station comin' up.”

“Already?” Wiley says. He signals to Kobie. “The door at the far end. Make sure no ones gets on.”

“I'll get this other one,” Screwball says. He squeezes himself past Amanda, deliberately rubbing his crotch against her. “Excuse me, ma'am.” He grins at her, then positions himself in front of the exterior door.

Wiley points his knife at Amanda. “I'll deal with you in a moment.”

Jeff notices the crucifix around Wiley's neck. “How can you be doing this? You're a Christian.”

Wiley punches Jeff in the stomach.

Amanda cries out and jumps back.

Jeff doubles over and holds onto a hand rail for support.

“Don't you dare question my faith,” Wiley barks. “You hear me!”

“Please,” Amanda pleads. “Just let us go.”

Wiley grabs Amanda by the pony-tail. “I'll let you go alright. Just as soon as I've finished with you.”

Bleecker Street Station glides into view and the car speakers spark to life with the usual information.

“Len!” Wiley barks.

Len snaps out of his trance.

“Over here. Watch this one while I take care of the girl.”

Len just sits, blinking.

“Move!” Wiley shouts over the sound of the slowing train.

Len springs to his feet and hurries along the aisle.

Wiley pulls Amanda by the hair and forces her face first against a window. She presses her palms against the glass and rests one of her knees on the seat below. Wiley pushes himself against her. “Just you stare at the wall out there and think of flowers or whatever it is you women think of. I'll be finished in no time.” He closes his switchblade and tucks it into his back pocket.

“Please, don't do this,” Amanda says.

The exterior doors slide open and Screwball pokes his head out. A few moments later, he comes back with: “We're all good, boss.”

“Hear that?” Wiley says in Amanda's ear. He reaches round and unzips her jeans. “No one's gonna disturb us.”

Stand clear of the closing doors, please
.

Ding-dong
.

The doors slide shut and the train pulls away from the platform.

Jeff sizes Len up, and, apparently not thinking much of the overweight man in terms of being an obstacle, decides to make a play for Wiley.

Big mistake
.

Len tackles Jeff and pushes him against the end door. The air escapes Jeff's lungs in one big whoosh.

Screwball starts whooping with excitement. “Way to go, Lenny!”

Wiley's stuffs a hand down the front of Amanda's jeans. His other one is roaming under her top. “You look good in pink.”

Amanda tries to wriggle free.

“I got something pink,” he whispers in her ear.

The lights in the car briefly flicker
.

Amanda stops struggling.

“I bet you have,” she says quietly.

Wiley caresses the flat of Amanda's stomach. “Bet I have what?”

“I bet you have something pink,” she says, her face still pressed against the window.

“You fuckin' know it,” Wiley says. “Here, lemme show you.” He withdraws his hands from her and unzips his pants.

Jeff closes his eyes. “We're supposed to be here.”

Screwball laughs. “What in the hell?”

“We're supposed to be here,” Jeff says again, his eyes still closed.

Screwball lifts his hat and scratches his head. “Whatever you say, weirdo.”

Wiley starts to remove Amanda's jeans.

“I want it hard,” Amanda says. “Hard and fast.”

Wiley pauses with his prick in his hand; can't quite comprehend what Amanda has just said.

“Really hard,” Amanda says. “Like you mean it.”

Wiley feels a numbness wash over him. He steps back from Amanda.

“I want you to fuck me so hard the window breaks,” she says.

Kobie's saying something from the other end of the aisle, but no one appears to be listening.

Len is staring at Jeff. He looks bemused. “Why's he keep saying 'we're supposed to be here'?”

“Hell if I know,” Screwball replies.

Kobie speaks again; louder this time: “Wiley, hurry the hell up and do what you gotta do!”

Amanda turns from the window and faces Wiley. She looks down at his already shrinking penis and smiles.

The lights in the car briefly flicker
.

Wiley's mouth opens and he blinks in disbelief. Standing before him is a several years younger version of his mother. She's wearing a lemon dress with pink flowers and has her hair tied back in a pony-tail. But there's something about her eyes ... something wrong. She moves close to him; so close he can feel her breath.

And it's cold
.

The blood rushes to Wiley's head. Suddenly, he can't feel his feet, or the prick in his hand. He reaches up with his free hand and grasps the crucifix around his neck.

“Just like your old man,” his mom says. “all faith and no works.”

“Mom? ... no, I-”

“No excuses, Jason Wiley. You're a chip off the old block.”

Wiley shakes his head. “No. I
hated
him - I still do.”

“Hate him?” Mom says. “You are him!”

The lights in the car briefly flicker ... and then they go out - along with the LCD information and notice displays - and the entire train is plunged into darkness
.

July, 2005; Mulberry Street, New York

Dad slammed the bottle of beer on the table so hard its contents frothed over and ran down the neck.

I flinched. He was in a foul mood again, like he was almost every night; and he was drinking, like he was almost every night. This meant someone was going to be on the receiving end of his fists by the end of the evening. Mom for sure, and probably even me if I didn't 'behave'.

I looked over at the TV. A bunch of cops were pinning some smackhead to the ground. Another reality show. I had no idea which one. There was far too many of them, and they all looked the same.