Kay showers and dresses for school. Black leggings, a pink T with a thick, buckle-belt at the waist. An outfit she ordered from a fashion magazine. She’s somewhat energetic on the walk to school. Kay tries to appear as normal as possible, but the small talk is short.
Darius takes note of this. “Are you mad at me?”
Kayla gasps. “No! Why would you think that?!”
“It’s just… you’re not talking as much.”
“I just got a lot on my mind…that’s all.”
“Tell me.”
She contemplates, staring ahead as her tiny feet cover the sidewalk of yellow leaves. He’ll think he’s dating a psycho if I tell the truth. “It’s nothing.”
“Is that dream still bothering you?”
“A little… it’s nothing. I just need a few days. I promise I’m not mad at you.” Now would be the perfect time to mention that I love him. But I’m a chicken.
In history, the class opens a book full of the wars of the world. The WWI dugout is still the topic. The robust teacher writes page numbers on the blackboard with chalk. Read Page 55 and 67. No Talking. Quiet Zone. Kayla flips to page 55:
The Vampire dugout (known locally in Belgium as the Vampyr dugout), is a First World War underground shelter located near the Belgian village of Zonnebeke. It was created as a British brigade headquarters in early 1918. The 171st Tunneling Company of the Royal Engineers mined it after the Third Battle of Ypres/Battle of Passchendaele.
The same student who exclaimed the word vampire, leans to whisper to a fellow peer. “What if they’re down there for real??”
“Huh?” a frizzy-haired girl retorts in a hushed tone.
“What if there are vamp—”
“MR. CLIFF! EYES ON THE PAGE!” the teacher barks. Cliff leans back to his desk and reads on.
It is an odd name. Why vampire? Why not the dead dugout or the fallen dugout. Either phrasing would have summed up the soldiers who were killed. Cliff's questioning is right when it comes to the title, but he lost me at the end. There’s no such thing as a vampire. Dracula is a fictional story that spun nothing but nonsense. He’s being dumb.
Kayla continues reading:
Vampire became operational from early April 1918, housing the 100th Brigade of the British 33rd Division, the 16th King’s Royal Rifle Corps and the 9th Battalion Highland Light Infantry Regiment. But after only a few weeks, the dugout was lost when the Germans undertook the Battle of the Lys in April 1918. It was recaptured in September 1918, when its last occupants became the 2nd Battalion of the Worcestershire Regiment.
By lunch, Kay has some clarity about the encounter. Mom is probably right. None of it is true. It was just an extremely windy day. If magic is real, why hasn’t anyone seen it? I should dismiss it as I did the existence of vampires.
Jia and Mya join her at their designated lunch table. Each of them have salads and water. “Are you better?” Jia asks, hoping that she is. Her kind, pie face lifts Kay’s spirit.
She takes a deep, cleansing breath, then smiles. “I am.”
“What was up anyway? Is it your period?” Mya snoops.
“I don’t act weird on my cycle.” Kay titters.
“So, what was your deal?”
“Mya!” Jia groans. “Stop, just be happy she’s better.”
“It’s fine, I can tell her.” It’s best that I give in now or she’ll nag me forever. Mya is just worried and shows it in a different way. An annoying way. “I had a bad dream.” She repeats the lie.
“Oh… that’s it?” Mya laughs.
“Was it the squirrel monkey?” Jia’s voice is therapeutic, as if she has a degree in evaluating trauma.
“Oh my God, why did I tell y’all about that!”
“I hope it wasn’t too bad.” Jia hugs her. “I’ll pray tonight to keep it away.”
“It wasn’t that.”
“I bet it was.” Mya deduces. “You said it was big as a beast and chased you. That would scare the shit out of anyone.”
“The dream wasn’t that scary.” Kay rolls her eyes. “It was about my mom’s witch books.”
Jia gulps, covering her mouth. “Oh, no! Did they haunt you!”
“Kinda…” I think I can tell my girls. Besides, we already use the Ouija board on Halloween just for kicks. We’ve been down a superstitious path already. So, what’s the problem? I think I can reveal what happened. “I said one of the spells…and it worked.” Kay clenches her teeth, awaiting their reactions.
Mya cackles. “Really, Kay??! If you’re trying to prank us for Halloween, it’s not working.”
“I don’t think she is… she’s just saying her dream.” Jia quarrels.
“No…she’s trying to pull one over. You can’t get me with this. Spells are not real, girl.”
“So why do you talk to a Ouija board every Halloween?” Kay challenges.
“For fun… it’s the spookiest time of the year for a reason.” She answers frankly.
“What if we do it this year and something happens?”
“It’s not real, Kay.”
How is she so confident? And why can’t I be the same? I’d love to have her mindset in this circumstance. I don’t even buy my own lies. It wasn’t a dream. No matter how many times I tell myself, it won’t be true. “Can I be honest?”
Mya eats her salad. “Here she goes again, trying to fool us.”
Her smug demeanor irritates Kay, who seethes with frustration. “I’M NOT JOKING!!” For the first time ever, she has enough courage to snap back. “JUST LISTEN!!”
Mya flinches back… befuddled that her friend is yelling. Her mouth drops. So does Jia’s. The buzzing tables around suddenly go silent. The cafeteria is soundless. All eyes are on them.
I didn’t mean to get that loud, but Mya is getting on my nerves. She thinks she knows everything! Kay puffs out air. “I’m trying to tell the truth here!”
“Okay… okay… I’m sorry.” Mya’s meek voice proves she means it. She’s never seen her speak so feebly. “I’m listening.”
“Me too.” Jia’s brows shoot up to her forehead.
Kayla leans forward, beckoning them to do the same. Aware that everyone’s attention is on their table. “I don’t think it was a dream…” she admits in a muted tone.
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