Leroy's Writing Space

Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

“Uncle, can I…?”

“No.”

Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

“But he’s been doing it for hours.”

“He can knock all night. He’s not coming in.”

Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

The man, already one of the brighter shades of red, tightened his grip on the wooden dinner spoon. A splinter found its way into his hand, but he didn’t seem to notice. The pounding at the door continued. 

Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Right!” The man slammed his spoon onto the table. “That does it!” Whipping around in his seat, he gave the door a deathly glare. “Listen here you wretched cumberwood! Begone from this place! You hear!? Do this world a favour and crawl back to wherever you came from and bury yourself there!”  

He returned to his meal; arms folded. The door thumping abated for a few moments, then resumed.

Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

The boy hesitantly looked between his stony-faced Uncle and the door, which was still being hammered upon.

 Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

“Uncle…”

“I’ll make this quite clear to you, boy,” said the man, “I don’t care what type of monster knocks at my door, we are going to sit here and enjoy a nice, traditional Christmas dinner, as the Lord intended.” He looked over his shoulder. “And no one is going to stop that!”

The knocking stopped abruptly. “I implore you to reconsider!” The voice came from the other side of the door. “I bring to you only good tidings and well wishes.”

“You bring nothing of the sort,” said the man. “Now clear off and go bother someone else.”

Knock Knock.

Knock Knock.

The man, his left eye twitching, stabbed his spoon into his bowl. The young boy, sitting across from him, couldn’t take his eye off the door.

“Uncle?” he said. “Why won’t you let him in?”

“Boy,” said the man, “if you are going to stay in Derry, there is something you are going to have to understand. Every village has its little quirks, and you just have to learn to deal with them. For example, here in Derry, we have, what you might call, a minor infestation of… well…” he took a long drink from his goblet. “Vampires.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Vampires?”

“Now don’t you worry about it, lad,” said the man, “there’s only the one and he only comes out at Christmas.” The knocking continued in the background. The man ignored it. “As I said before, no place is perfect. You just have to deal with the problems as they come.” He cut himself a generous portion of the turkey sitting in the middle of the table, and looked the trembling boy in the eye. “Would you like another slice?”

“Is that man a vampire?’

“More or less,” said the man. He shovelled a forkful of meat into his mouth.

“Why is he knocking at the door?”

“Well, son,” said the man, “I imagine he would like to kill us both.”

“But why does he knock? Why doesn’t he just come in?”

“Boy, you have much to learn,” said the man, “especially if you are going to stay here in Derry. A vampire can never enter a household unless someone who lives there invites him in. As long as we don’t do that, we’re safe.”   

The boy gave an uncertain nod.

“Now don’t you worry about it, boy,” said the man. “He’s been trying this little game of his for years now, and not one house in the village has had the poor sense to let him in.”

“He’s been trying this for years?” said the boy.

“He can try for centuries, won’t make a difference,” said the man, matter-of-factly. “He’s not coming in.”

“Why would he want to kill us?”

“They’re vampires,” said the man. “It’s what they do.”

“Not at all true,” said the vampire. “I have come here to spread Christmas cheer!”

“No, you haven’t,” said the man.

“Yes I have,” said the vampire. “And I have brought special gifts to mark the special occasion!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Gifts?” said the boy. His horror disappeared. “He has gifts?”  

“He does not have gifts,” said the man. “It’s just a stupid trick.” 

“Wrong again, my friend,” called the vampire. “I have a whole sack here of merry gifts that any human would love!”

“No you don’t,” said the man.

“Yes I do!”

“No,” said the man, tersely. “You don’t.”

“Why would he want to hand out gifts?” said the boy.

“An excellent question!” said the vampire. “Would you like me to explain?”

“Go boil your head in!” called the man.

“It occurred to me,” said the vampire, “after untold centuries of wandering this earth, that there are, amongst us, virtuous men and women who deserve…”

 “Shut up!”

 “Uncle,” said the boy. “Can’t we give him one chance?”

“No!” thundered the man. “And that’s that! One chance is all he’d need. Now, for the last time, he is not coming in!”

The boy tilted his head. “Are you afraid of him?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why won’t you let him in?”

“Because… well…” The man scratched his head as he tried to find a way out of the corner he had backed himself into. “I’m not afraid,” he said simply. “Not at all.”  

“Well,” said vampire, drawing the word out. “I would be a little afraid, I mean, I am quite strong. Agile too. We all are. If I was hostile, which I most certainly am not, there would be a perfectly good reason to be afraid.”

“I said I am not afraid of you!”

“Then why can’t he come in?” said the boy.

“Because I said so!” said the man.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” said the vampire.

“And you can shut up!”

“There’s no need to be rude either, I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t!” The man, now as red as he could possibly go, sprung to his feet. “I have the arms of a woodsman and hide of an ox! I’d rip you from limb to limb!”

“To be perfectly honest with you,” said the vampire, “if it came to a fight it would probably be the other way around.”

“Come in here and say that!” bellowed the man, shaking his fist. A moment later, his brain caught up with him. “Oh hell…”

The door swung open.

“At last!” said the vampire. He marched triumphantly into the house. A large brown sack was hefted over his shoulders. “After so many years, I am finally inside a house!”

The man scrambled to his feet and darted into the corner, herding the boy with him. “Back you foul beast! Back!”

“No need to worry,” said the vampire. “I understand the situation, and allow me to explain…”

“Back!” howled the man. He made a grab for the kitchen knife sitting on the table. In his haste, however, all he managed to grab was his dinner spoon, which he brandished in front of him. “Back I said!”      

The vampire frowned. “As I have said, repeatedly, I am not in fact here to kill you.”

The man calmed down slightly, but didn’t lower the spoon. “You’re not?”

“Nope!” said the cheerful vampire. “I am here to spread Christmas joy to all the boys and girls of the world!”

He unslung his sack and reached into it. “Now to you, dear boy hiding in the corner…”

The boy tentatively stepped forward.   

“I am afraid to say it,” said the vampire, “but you have been a very naughty boy this year.”

The boys face fell. “I have?”

“Afraid so,” continued the vampire, wagging a finger. “You were doing quite well, but in the end, what really tipped the scales was when you tried to convince your uncle to let a vampire into his house. That was very wrong, very wrong indeed.”

“B-but you weren’t evil or anything,” said the boy.

“Yes, but you didn’t know that,” said the vampire. “You were more interested in getting a gift, and in doing so, brought a lot of grief to your Uncle who just wanted to enjoy a nice, quiet Christmas dinner with you.”  

The boy’s eyes sunk to the floor.

“So,” said the vampire. “Because of this naughtiness, I’m afraid the best I can do for you is a lump of boring old coal.”

His hand came out of the sack. In it was a lump of coal, which he gave to the boy.

“Thank you, sir.” said the boy. He stepped back.     

“As for you…” said the vampire. He turned on the man, who shrank back slightly. “You have been very good this year. You have worked hard in the fields, took in your nephew when he had nowhere else to stay and even tried to give him a proper Christmas dinner while your house was under vampire attack.”

His hand went back into the sack.

“For this, I give you the give you gift of Christmas warmth.”

His hand came back out of the sack. In it was a lump of coal. He gave this to the man, who looked at it with a raised eyebrow.

“Er,” he said.

“You’re very welcome!” said the vampire. He hefted his sack over his shoulder. “Now, if you would excuse me, this was a very good start, but now I have every other house in the world, so if you would excuse me…”

With that, he transformed into a bat. The man and boy, each with coal in their hands, watched as it fluttered out the still open front door, into the night sky.  

Silence reigned for a long while in the house.

“Uncle,” said the boy, finally breaking it. “What just happened?” 

“Son,” said the man, rolling the coal in his hands, “you’ve got a lot to learn if you’re going to stay in Derry. A lot to learn. And right now, you can learn this: when a vampire walks into your home and out again, and all you suffered is some dirty hands, you call it a good day and get on with your life. Now…” He marched back to the table and sat down. “Would you like another slice, or am I going to eat this whole bird on my own?”

Before the boy could answer, a very familiar sound broke through the winter air. It was coming from the neighbour’s house. 

Knock knock.

Knock knock.    

           

THE END