A Nosy Neighborhood Stakeout

By Beka Gremikova

A good neighborhood stakeout always starts with a comfy porch swing and my famous pound cake. Archie’s curled up on my lap, watching the street for any sign of Uncannies—or rabbits. Ever since he got into a scuffle with a bunny—and lost—he’s been on his guard.

Beside me, Amelia hasn’t touched the poundcake. She fiddles with her braid.

“Calm down, sugarplum.” I pat her arm.

She jumps higher than a bullfrog on the lam. Moaning, she covers her face. “I’m hopeless, Miss O’Hara. I can’t relax!” She stares at me with wide, appealing eyes. “You promise you can teach me to tell a human from a vampire?”

“I can try,” I say. “It’s a mite difficult for someone with natural-born Discernment to teach about regular instinct.”

She rubs her arms. “I’m just tired of being paranoid. Ever since Jeremy…”

Her ex-boyfriend’s what young folks these days call a dangerous dreamboat. Or he was until I staked him with my cane. Problem is, Amelia can’t forget her near-brush with fangs. And now she reckons the new neighbor is a vampire.

“Where’s this boy live?” I ask.

Amelia points out a cozy brick home down the street with bright red shutters and a cherry-colored door. Rolls of wire netting, wrapped with red tape, sit propped against the front stoop. “See? All that red must mean something. Isn’t red a vampire’s favorite color? It was Jeremy’s.” She frowns and pets Archie’s head. “Can you sense anything?”

“Nothin’. I have to see him first.” If we wait long enough, I reckon we’ll catch a glimpse of this new neighbor, and I can get a read on him. Even vampires can’t resist the draw of a soft Southern evening, the setting sun casting a rosy glow across the quiet street.

Sure enough, our mark strolls out of his house, whistling. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and his messy curls bounce as he bops along toward us.

Time to start teachin’. “You need to assess his teeth, clothes, and hair when he gets closer,” I whisper to Amelia. Archie yawns, unbothered. “Vampires prefer the oily look, and their teeth are always white and shiny. They spend thousands on dentists every year.”

“But you don’t sense anything?”

I shake my head. “Not like with Jeremy.”  That boy had evil intent sliding off him as slick as hair oil. I lean forward as the new neighbor approaches. “Good evening! I haven’t seen you around before! What’s your name?”

In true Southern fashion, he waves and steps up onto the edge of the porch. “The name’s Sawyer, ma’am. I’ve come to ask about your poundcake.”

Oh my biscuits. He does have awfully white teeth, and his sweater is deep burgundy. But it’s a cardigan sweater—that’s one point in Sawyer’s favor. Vampires hate cardigans as much as Southern ladies love coupons.

Amelia’s gone still, starin’. She leans toward me. “His teeth!” she hisses.

“But his hair,” I whisper. “And his hideous sweater!”

“This is too confusing!” Amelia rubs her eyes.

Sawyer’s eyes narrow slightly as we consult. Then he shakes his head. “I heard you make the best poundcake this side of town?”

Amelia clears her throat, sittin’ up straight. “Y’all heard right.”

Sawyer stretches out a hand for Archie to sniff. “Y’see, I’m lookin’ to host a party, and—”

Archie growls. Sawyer yanks his hand away just as Archie lunges, snarling and snapping. I latch my arms around his trembling body, trapping him on my lap.

What in tarnation is going on? I feel no slimy unease about our neighbor, no flicker of Discernment. All I reckon is that Sawyer, though a questionable dresser, seems unquestionably normal.

Amelia snatches my cane and unlocks the trigger on its handle. The end shoots out, revealing a sharp point. She leaps up, knees bent in a battle stance.

Sawyer scrambles backward, but he’s pinned against a pillar of the porch. “What the—? Is that—”

Amelia pats the cane. “A Stake 3000? You bet.” She steps forward. “Designed to take down even the hardiest vampire.”

“Amelia, child, don’t!” I holler, struggling to keep Archie from going rabid possum on the neighborhood. Doggone it. If she stakes this guy and he’s not a vampire, we’ll all go to heck in a handbasket.

“Vampire?” Sawyer’s eyes are glued to the slick wooden cane, which Amelia insisted on painting a blood red for intimidation factor. “I’m not a vampire! There’s some mistake!”

Thankfully, I’m close to the door. I shove Archie inside. Then, as Amelia takes another step forward, I snag her collar and yank her backward like she’s no older than a tot. She yelps, falling on her bottom. She tries to scrabble to her feet, but I pin her down.

“If you’re no vampire, why’s my granny’s dog gone wild? He’s got Discernment, y’know!” Amelia’s face is bright, purplish red. Her eyes flash.

“I don’t know!” Sawyer snaps. “I’m a rabbit guy!”

At the word rabbit, Archie goes bonkers inside the house.

Amelia’s jaw drops. “Did you say… rabbit?” she whispers.

We all flinch at another flurry of growls from inside.

Sawyer gasps for breath and nods. “Yes! I’ve got five of ‘em. And a dog, who loves bunnies, so I didn’t reckon…”

I snatch my cane back from Amelia and lean on it. “First rule of gut instinct? Don’t jump to conclusions. And don’t snatch other people’s weapons!” I shake my head. “Archie must have smelled your bunnies on you, Sawyer.”

Amelia blushes red as a beet. “Oh, bless me,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry!” She helps Sawyer to his feet and hands him the untouched poundcake. “Please, take this home with you.”

“And I’ll be happy to bake you more for your party,” I add. “No charge, of course.”

“And we’ll add bunny decorations.” Amelia walks Sawyer to the edge of the porch. “Is that a rabbit run you’re building with the netting, then?”

Archie gives a howl that’d make a werewolf jealous.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beka Gremikova hails from the Ottawa Valley, Ontario, Canada. She loves wolves, travelling, and exploring new cultures and cuisines. Her obsession with folklore and myth often weaves itself into her stories, multiple of which are published with Havok. Her writing has been included in Bingeworthy, A Kind of Death from Uncommon Universes Press and the Faces to the Sun collection edited by S.J. Blasko. She dreams of attending ComicCon in Princess Zelda cosplay.

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