Legend of the Virgin Vampire

Jousting

"Shouldn't you be going to work?" I said.

"I took the day off."

I lowered my backpack onto one of the chairs. "I thought you didn't have any vacation days left."

"I had one medical day."

"But that's not what those are for, right? You said you had to be sick to use a medical day."

"So I lied."

I stared at her. She gazed frankly back. She never lied about stuff like that. She never abused the system, even if everyone else was doing it. She was Ms. Follow-The-Rules. The woman who could be counted on to do things right, and who expected her son to do the same.

"Oh," I said.

She pushed a chair out with her foot. The message was clear: sit down. I sat.

I should take a moment here to tell you more about my mom. First of all, Papadakis is my mother's last name. My dad's last name was Reese. Mine used to be Reese until my dad left and Mom went back to her old name. I'm not positive, but I think they're divorced. She never outright told me, and I never had the guts to ask.

The point is, my mom is Greek. And you can really see it when she suspects me of some illicit behavior. At such times, she becomes a seeker of Truth that would make Socrates proud. Not philosophical truth, though. She hadn't inherited the philosophy gene. No, the truth she sought was the kind that would hold up in a court of law.

Mom's face remained placid. Almost pleasant. But I knew this look too well. She said, "I can't help but feel like you've been avoiding me."

I just shrugged. Avoiding her is exactly what I was doing, so I couldn't explain it away. She gestured with her finger, and I leaned closer, across the table. She slipped my sunglasses off and looked me in the eye.

"Your pupils are still tiny," she said.

"They are?"

She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. I just watched her. Whatever she was going to do to me, I hoped she did it fast. I needed to check on Emily, and I needed to get some food. I was way too aware of the way my mother smelled, and the tension between us was only making it worse.

"I want some answers," she said, "I want to know what happened to you on Saturday, in detail. I want to know why you're already asleep when I get home every night, where your glasses are, and why your eyes look like that."

I was trapped. Trapped, but not completely unprepared. I knew this question was coming, and I had decided that the story I'd given to Porter would have to work on her, too. Unfortunately, she was smarter than Porter.

I said, "I didn't want to talk about it because it's embarrassing."

She nodded, giving me permission to go on.

"I got mugged. I was on the wrong side of town with that expensive software and I think some guys followed me when I left the con. They beat me up and took it. I don't know where my glasses are. I must have lost them."

"How many guys?"

"Two."

"What did they look like?"

I scratched the back of my neck, trying to come up with something fast. "They were gang members, I think. And they were wearing . . ." Oh, man. What did gangsters wear? "Hats. And jeans."

"Hats and jeans."

"Yeah."

"Well, if you got mugged why didn't you let me take you to the police?"