VAMPIRE UP! A Suburban Vampire Anthology

Weirder Stuff

JUNE, 1986

The city park was not particularly busy that warm, sunny, late Spring day as a solitary boy rode his bike on the paths, heading toward the southern end of the park. The boy was twelve years old, with thick "coke-bottle" lenses on his pimply face, his faded black Star Wars t-shirt barely covering his chubby belly. He piloted his old green Huffy to the forested area, hoping to make a shortcut through the woods.

"Hey, Soupy!" Called another boy, who was riding his own bicycle. "Soupy Campbell! Stop!"

"I'm not stopping for you, Steve!" The boy said. He tried to sound intimidating. He didn't make it.

"No, Soupy, stop right now," the skinny kid with equally bad complexion and a ZZ Top t-shirt said. "We just wanna talk!"

"Yeah, Soupy," a second boy, also on his bike, said. This boy was about as chubby as the first boy, but did not require corrective lenses. "What, are you afraid, wuss?"

"I'm not a wuss!" The boy called 'Soupy' said. "And my name isn't Soupy! It's Scott!"

"Yeah," Steve laughed. "Soupy Scott Campbell!"

"Yeah," the other chubby kid also laughed, "and your flavor is chicken noodle!"

"That was dumb, Eric," Steve told his compatriot.

"Huh uh! No it wasn't!"

"Anyway," Steve said to Scott Campbell, "we just want to talk. Come on!"

"Are you gonna hit me again?" Scott asked. "You gonna give me a wedgie again? You gonna take my lunch money again?"

"You don't need lunch money, fat ass," Eric, the other chubby kid, said.

"Shut up, dork," Steve told Eric. "Anyway, Scott? You want me to call you Scott, right?"

"That's my name," Scott said, finally stopping his bike and turning to face his school-yard tormentors. "Don't wear it out!"

"Hey, Scott, you know, you could be my friend!"

"Oh yeah? Why would I want to be your friend?"

"So that I don't beat the crap out of you or give you wedgies."

"Those are pretty good reasons."

Steve and Eric pulled their bikes alongside Scott's own. "So, do you want to be my friend, or not?"

"Well, if it means you don't beat me up anymore, then yeah, sure, I guess."

"Cool! Then follow us."

"Where you going?"

"Just over there," Steve pointed to the west, toward the edge of the park. Scott knew what was there; a fairly large, wooded property, on which sat an old house and some smaller outbuildings. Scott knew this probably wasn't a good idea.

"Over there?"

"Yeah. The old Reynolds' place."

"But, you know, they say that place is haunted!"

Kevin shook his head. "Haunted? You don't believe that crap, do you? What do you think, Eric?"

"I think Soupy is a little faggot," Eric snarled.

"I am not a faggot!" Scott responded. "And my friend Tim says that house is haunted!"

"First, Eric," Steve said, "Shut up. We want Scott to be our friend. Second, that house is not haunted. There's no such things as ghosts. Third, your friend Tim is a dork. Now, follow us. Or do you want me to take your lunch money again next year?"