Getting Some Answers

"Leonard."

"Pop. I'm coming over." It wasn't a request.

"Bring your manners with you."

"Will do."

Without saying goodbye, he disconnected the phone with one hand, eyes remaining fixed on the road. "As soon as I drop you off I'm gonna find out what's going on. I can't believe Pop would work for this lunatic."

"Let me come with you."

Jason glanced over at her small form curled up on the seat, knees tucked, eyes glistening. He said,

"You remember our talk."

"I do, but I'll stay in the car. It's dark, so they won't see me."

She was so insistent that Jason had no will in him to refuse. "Alright. You wanna come over after?"

"Please."

He'd had a feeling.

Inside, Jason set upon his folks with all of his frustrations. How could you work for this lunatic? He threatened Layathel, terrified her, and the fact is that if Dracula had wanted to do anything, he'd have been powerless to stop him.

"Now, who's this Layathel?" Pop asked. They were standing in the living room, a largely wooden room, floor and walls, with earthy colors for the couch and its throw pillows, and the television stand.

"Yes," Mother chimed in from the kitchen doorway she was leaning against. "Is that a friend of yours?"

Jason froze for an instant, mind running through convenient lies, but screw it he thought, "A girl I'm seeing." He tried to phrase it so that it sounded as uncommitted as possible, but of course his folks both lit up like a lake under a firework display.

"When can we meet her?" Pop asked, putting a hand jovially on Jason's shoulder.

"How long have you been together?" Mom inquired, stepping from the doorway with excitement.

Jason stared at them helplessly. This was meant to be a chastisement of his parents' choice in client, but was turning into a "meeting with the folks."

"She's," Jason again considered fibbing, "in the car."

That was it. They both began clamoring to see her, throwing out every admonishment and question they could think of. How old is she? You left her in the car? What kind of boyfriend are you? Why have you never let us meet her?

"Alright, alright! Let me go get her. I don't want this three-ring circus going out there and frightening the poor girl. Give me a minute."

He went out to fetch the subject in question, and found her with the seat ratcheted all the way down and her laying flat like she was hiding. This girl, Jason thought, will fit right into my family. He knocked on the window and opened the door.

"Really?" She exclaimed with way too much enthusiasm for Jason's taste when he'd told her that his parents wanted to meet her. "Didn't you say—"

"Forget that. Totally different circumstances."

"Jason Sange!" Layathel came up out of the car like a cougar ready to pounce. "Don't tell me your folks bullied you into telling them about me."

"That's such a strong but unfortunately accurate description," Jason replied, changing gears mid-sentence.

Inside, Layathel politely introduced herself and allowed herself to be fussed over for a while. Jason had to admit he was pleased that she seemed to be enjoying the attention.

"I'm glad she's here," Jason interjected when he felt that that conversation was going to change from polite inquiries to wedding dress styles. "I'd like to tell you about how that madman threatened her."

"Threatened?" Mother said. "Leonard, if this is true, I want you to march right over there and give him a piece of your mind."

"Now, now," Pop replid, "let's not be hasty."

Layathel was looking down at her shoes. "Well, it wasn't all that bad."

Jason shook his head. "What? I completely disagree. Guys, you should have seen what he did."

"It's just, I thought he was rather charming."

"You've gotta be kidding. The man is a monster. Look! Mom, weren't you threatened?" Jason crossed the floor, gently put his hands on his mother's cheeks and moved her head left, then right. "There!" There were two neat little holes juxtaposed in her neck, maybe an inch apart. "Look at this! Mom, what happened?"

This time it was Mom who, holding Jason's wrists, looked down bashfully. Jason stared at her in disbelief, knowing that this reaction wasn't likely to be the result of anything he wanted to hear. "Well," she said, voice soft, "it was my idea."

Jason turned his head, incredulous, to look over his shoulder at Pop, who shrugged. "I can't believe this," Jason murmured. His mother and his girl were infatuated with the Count, of all people. "Were you enthralled, Mom?"

"On the contrary, he was quite smitten with me, but then, he did have a certain allure."

"It's the eyes," Layathel chirped.

Jason withdrew from his mother and paced to the center of the room, pensive. Pop said, "It's just a game, exactly like the lawyer business. Don't be too concerned about it. Though I wouldn't bring the girl around him too much."

Don't be concerned? How could Jason not be concerned? He looked between each of the persons standing around him, and found that he still didn't understand one thing. "So, Mom," he turned to her again. "What happened?"

"With the Count? Oh, it's nothing, really. I agreed to let him feed on me in exchange for a few dollars."

"You agreed to that? For a few dollars?"

"Don't look so shocked. It's just like giving blood, only—" Her eyes became dreamy and unfocused, "—much nicer."

"And Pop? How did he end up with you?"

"Well, when his father told him about the family business and they met for the first time, it was also the first time the two of us met."

"So then. . . ." His voiced trailed off. So then Pop agreed to work for him on the condition that he would in some way have access to Mom?

As if reading his thoughts from his expression, Mom said, "So I agreed on a date."

Pop added, "And that's why I continued to work for him. For her."

Layathel put her hands over her mouth. "That's so sweet," she cooed between her fingers.

Jason was having difficulty processing all of this. He gave a final look between his parents, then went and took Layathel by the arm. "I'm going. I love you both, but I'm going." He couldn't, wouldn't explain. The next thing out of his mouth was going to be profanities. All of this and they'd never told him about any of it? Why?

Pop followed him out the door. "Hang on."

Jason stopped. Addlepated as he was, one didn't ignore it when Pop asked him to "hang on." Layathel would have stopped too, but Jason beckoned her to continue to the car.

"There's a book you should read, Son. It's called These Scarlet Transcripts."

Jason fought between sounding sarcastic and angry. "Isn't that name already taken?"

"You dunce. That's the Scarlet Letter. Though now that you mention it, there might be a derivative title, here." Pop looked like he was going to get lost in thought, but he recovered with a grimace. "Look, the full title is These Scarlet Transcripts beneath the Shadows Lurk."

Jason couldn't resist a chuckle at the overwrought title.

"Yeah, I know. It was written in the early 19th century, so it was par for the course. Speaking of which, I'm thinking of heading to the green this weekend."

Jason understood his father was trying to make amends in his own roundabout way, and it wasn't in him to hold a grudge, especially against his folks. They ruminated for a few minutes, standing in the warm summer evening with the porch lamp for light. When they shook hands and parted, Jason was feeling a little better about things, although he knew it was something he'd need to give serious thought.

Jason got in the car and shut the door.

"You alright?" Layathel nearly whispered.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He started the car. "You still staying?"

"You know it. I love sleepovers." She put a hand on his arm.

Jason pulled out, drove off toward the main road. His mind was on that book Pop had mentioned. Why would he bring that up so suddenly without reason? He wouldn't, that's why. Jason didn't intend to waste a second. He would go straight to the house. Pop had told him where the book was. At some point he became aware of the gentle weight and warmth of that hand on his arm. When he looked across, Layathel had her head on the backrest and her eyes were closed. He'd thought to have her help him look for it, but he might not be able to get her to stir by time they'd gotten to the house.