Without A Clue
Gregor folded his arms and stamped his foot crossly. “I shall not,” he said with more determination than should be available to one so small.
“One teeny weeny bite,” implored his mother for the ninetieth time.
“No,” he said glaring at her.
She smiled that patient smile which really meant all her patience was spent. She was tall, willowy, with an hour glass figure wrapped in her ragged evening gown. Tattered frills hung from closely fitted sleeves that led down to her long red painted nails. Her long black hair with white fringe fell about her shoulders and draped down her back in loose curls. Her skin was whiter than white, her black eyes framed in lashes unnaturally long. Stunning, beautiful, terrifying. “Your father will be home soon,” She offered. “He won’t be happy to hear you won’t eat,”
Gregor twisted his face away from her. He was short, stocky with dark hair and matching black eyes. His lips were ruby red against his pale chubby cheeks. He was the image of his father.
“You know what night this is?”
“Yes. And I’m not going.”
She sighed. Her main bargaining chip was lost. “Well, then eat your tea, and go to your room.”
Gregor did not move. “I mean it,” he said. “I’m not going. Not now or never.”
“But why not? You look so handsome, darling,” she cooed. “It’s the one night you can go out and be part of things.”
Gregor grimaced. “I have no one to go with,” he said sadly. “And it’s all your fault,”
She rushed over to him and embraced him. He did not yield to the embrace nor did he resist. “We will go together,” she said.
Outside the darkest of nights had descended over them. The moon hung shyly over the horizon, full, plum and very round. Bats swept over their heads, while the howls of the dying echoed through the empty streets.
“I’m not going, ma,” he said sullenly pulling away.
“Now what?” she asked.
“I’m not going because I haven’t a clue,”
She paused and looked at her child bewildered. “About what?”
“I haven’t a clue,”
“Can’t you tell me?” She asked concerned.
“I haven’t a clue.” He repeated, his agitation growing.
“If you can’t tell me in words, can you find another way to tell me?”
“There are witches out tonight with their familiars, warlocks looking for trouble, there are werewolves seeking their next meal, ghosts rising from their graves, skeletons walking by magic.”
His mother smiled. “You are a vampire, my dear. More feared than any of these low level creatures. You should stand proud above them. We do stand above them all.”
“I cannot go out without a clue, without my bestest friend, Artemis Cloo.” He cringed at the mention of the name. It was sure to rouse her fury. “Please dig him out for me,”
“Artemis Cloo?” she asked. “A clue?”,
“You said I was never to mention his name. But I miss him. Please give me Artemis to take with me and I will join the others for this Hallowe’en.”
Unable to resist, she reached into the coffer and pulled out a hairy legged spider in a small jar clouded by cobwebs. A shiver shook her being. “His poison will lay you low for weeks. Use him wisely,” she said. She handed the jar to Gregor.
“Artemis,” Gregor beamed. “Thank you. I will take good care of him,” He stroked the glass jar and if it were possible Artemis smiled back. Gregor ran to the door and looking back said, “Happy Hallowe’en, ma,”
Without A Clue©️Lorraine Poulter
No comments:
Post a Comment