After Dawn Broke

Chapter Eleven: Scary Stories

The memory started with a human Grandma Bella and a much less muscular version of my father walking down the beach on the Quileute reservation, a place I have ventured to with my parents several times. My dad also still has his long Indian hair, which makes me chuckle. I couldn't imagine him with it today.

"What was that he was saying about the doctor's family?" Grandma asked in an innocent voice.

"The Cullens? Oh, they're not supposed to come onto the reservation." My dad looked away as he said it, as if it was a hard topic.

"Why not?" Grandma Bella asked in the same sweet voice.

Biting his lip, Dad glimpsed back at her. "Oops. I'm not supposed to say anything about that."

"Oh, I won't tell anyone, I'm just curious." Grandma said as she smiled.

My dad smiled his brilliant smiled and looked like he was in love. He lifted an eyebrow.

"Do you like scary stories?" he asked in a slightly deeper voice.

"I love them," Grandma responded, stressing the word love. Being in her memory, I could feel her trying to be flirtatious with him, which was weird considering she is my grandma and he is my dad.

They walked over to an old driftwood tree and sat along the trunk and the roots. Dad looked down at the rocks as he considered how to start his story. He was smiling, which made me feel sad. He should be here with me in person, not missing.

He started, "Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from - the Quileutes, I mean?"

"Not really," Grandma confessed.

"Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood - supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark." He smiled; it sounded like an old bedtime story he used to tell Lizzy and me. "Another legend claims that we descended from wolves - and that the wolves are our brothers still. It's against tribal law to kill them." The he paused, and his voice dropped a little, "Then there are the stories about the cold ones."

By the way he said this, I knew he was talking about vampires. I'd heard the same tone from other people on the reserve.

"The cold ones?" she asked, very interested now.

With a role of his eyes, Dad continued his story. "Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land."

"Your great-grandfather?" she urged him on.

"He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf-well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."

"Werewolves have enemies?"

"Only one."

Impatiently, Grandma waited for her answer.

"So you see," he explained, "the cold ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandfather's time was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did - they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-faces." He was definitely talking about the Cullens.

"If they weren't dangerous, then why... ?"

"There's always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they're civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist." I knew from experience and stories that this was true; my family tries really hard and are rally good at what they do, but no one's perfect.

"What do you mean, 'civilized'?"

"They claimed that they didn't hunt humans. They supposedly were somehow able to prey on animals instead."

Grandma kept her voice casual. "So how does it fit in with the Cullens? Are they like the cold ones your greatgrandfather met?" Yes, grandma, they're the same ones.

"No." He paused dramatically, and stated my very thoughts. "They are the same ones."

Pleased by her reaction, Dad continued with his story.

"There are more of them now, a new female and a new male, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandfather's time they already knew of the leader, Carlisle. He'd been here and gone before your people had even arrived." By new, he must have meant Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper. I thought it was quite funny how he talked about them, considering they are now his family.

"And what are they?" Grandma finally asked the question that I assumed would change her life. "What are the cold ones?"

Dad smiled a mischievously dark smile.

"Blood drinkers," he revealed in the tone someone would use while telling the climax in a real scary story. "Your people call them vampires."

The flashback faded out with the sound of Grandpa Edward's chuckle, my giggles, and Grandma Bella's slightly embarrassed smile. I imagine she would be blushing right now, as she was in Grandpa's memories.

"That certainly was interesting. As I said before, that poor kid," he said amusingly.

"I never thought I'd see my grandma flirting with my dad!" I laughed. Of course, I've never seen someone with a family like mine, either.