Little Vampire Women

“I liked the place where the bundles fell off and tumbled downstairs,” said Meg.

“I don’t remember much about it, except that I was afraid of the sunlight that poured into the attic. If I wasn’t too old for such things, I’d rather like to play it over again,” said Amy, who really was too old for childish games despite her persistently youthful appearance.

“We never are too old for this, my dear, because it is a play we are playing all the time in one way or another. Our burdens are here, our road is before us, and the longing for goodness is the guide that leads us through many troubles, mistakes and uncontrollable feeding frenzies to inner peace, which is the true Celestial City. Now, my little vilgrims, suppose you begin again, not in play, but in earnest, and see how far on you can get before Father comes home,” Marmee suggested, concerned now, as always, with the preservation of her daughters’ souls, for it had not been that many years past since vampires were thought to have no soul at all. For centuries, they were considered minions of the devil and were forced to hide in shadow, fearful that any seemingly harmless gathering of people would quickly become an angry, stake-bearing mob. But thanks to the Camp Moldoveneascâ Accords

(#ulink_c38f402f-b954-5442-8120-1281bbc14565) that was all in the past.

“Really, Mother? Where are our bundles?” asked Amy, who was a very literal vampire.

“Each of you told what your burden was just now, except Beth. I rather think she hasn’t got any,” said her mother.

“Yes, I have. Mine is dishes and dusters, and envying vampires with nice pianos, and being afraid of people.”

Beth’s bundle was such a funny one that everybody wanted to laugh, but nobody did, for it would have hurt her feelings very much.

“Let us do it,” said Meg thoughtfully. “It is only another name for trying to be good, and the story may help us, for though we don’t want to feed on humans, it’s hard work resisting our basic demon natures.”

They talked over the new plan while old Hannah cleared the table, then out came the four little work baskets, and the needles flew as the girls made blackout curtains for Aunt March, who didn’t trust the store-bought article to keep out the light. At nine, they stopped work and went to their coffins.

(#ulink_f7f745ef-133a-545c-83bc-e572588b8596) Bestselling how-to that introduced the so-called scientifical method of slayer hunting, by Clifford Farmer (b. 1685).

(#ulink_f7f745ef-133a-545c-83bc-e572588b8596) Invented by Willis Whipetten (1750-1954) for his son, John, who suffered from dysgeusia garlisima, a chemosensory disorder that makes everything smell like garlic.

(#ulink_49953b35-8dfa-5b2d-92bd-49f9e48f4957) Paulson Dillywither (1834-1897) argues convincingly in Vampire Habits and Customs: The Beastly True Nature of Nature’s True Beast that lacrimal haemoglobin emissions, also known as blood tears, are caused by an infiltration of blood into the nasolacrimal duct.

(#ulink_d1de0bb3-a9eb-5ea9-ad4c-deded25bb028) Seminal text that first suggested vampires were children of God and therefore worthy of entrance into heaven; by William Swinton (1321-1569). Swinton cited the gift of immortality as proof of God’s preference for vampires over their mortal counterparts and even hinted that humanity itself might be damned. John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress is largely thought to be an almost verbatim rip-off of the book, although defenders have argued it is a pastiche.

(#ulink_834e3549-af49-5778-9ea0-3fe3cd1bc6b7) The international meeting held in 1767 that officially established vampires as naturalised citizens of heaven and granted them full inalienable rights. Out of the Accords came the groundbreaking Swift Nourishment Act, which reclassified the vampiric method of attaining sustenance as commerce, thereby making the consumption of humans who fell below the poverty level a safe and legal option for hungry vampires, as long as said vampires met the asking price and filled out the appropriate paperwork. Named after Jonathan Swift, who first proposed the arrangement in his famous 1729 essay “A Modest Proposal”, in which he recommended that Ireland’s poor solve their economic woes by selling their children for food.

Chapter Two (#ulink_2bb43811-bb75-5e05-8bfc-dbf54148f432)

A MERRY CHRISTMAS (#ulink_2bb43811-bb75-5e05-8bfc-dbf54148f432)

Jo was the first to wake in the grey twilight of Christmas night. No little creatures hung at the fireplace squirming, and for a moment she felt disappointed. Then she remembered her promise to her mother and resolved not to mind a corpse-free holiday.

“Where is Mother?” asked Meg, as she and Jo ran down a half an hour later.

“Goodness only knows,” replied Hannah, who had lived with the family since the girls were sired, and was considered by them all more as a friend than a servant.

“She will be back soon, I’m sure, warm the blood and have everything ready,” said Meg.

Meg counted the gift bundles in the basket under the sofa and noticed Amy’s was missing. A moment later, the youngest March came into the house and looked rather abashed when she saw her sisters all waiting for her.

“Where have you been, and what are you hiding behind you?” asked Meg, surprised to see, by her hood and cloak, that lazy Amy had been out so early.

“Don’t laugh at me, Jo! I didn’t mean anyone should know till the time came. I only meant to change the little mouse for a big rat, and I gave all my money to get it, even though I had to break into the shop, for the store was closed on account of the holiday, and I’m truly trying not to be selfish any more.”

As she spoke, Amy showed the plump rat which replaced the slight mouse, and looked so earnest and humble in her little effort to forget herself that Meg hugged her on the spot, and Jo pronounced her “a trump”, while Beth ran to the window, and picked her finest rose to ornament the stately vermin.

“You see I felt ashamed of my present, so I ran to the shop and changed it the minute I was up, and I’m so glad, for mine is the most delicious one now.”

Another bang of the street door announced the arrival of their mother.

“Merry Christmas, Marmee! Many of them!” they all cried in chorus.

“Merry Christmas, little daughters! I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “But not far away from here lies a poor woman with a newborn baby. Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there, and the oldest boy came to tell me they were suffering hunger and cold. Being a vampire means I have to work doubly hard to be good, so I immediately went to them to offer my services.”

The girls were all unusually hungry, having waited nearly an hour, and their breakfast was more tempting than they imagined. Rather than the usual helping of pig’s blood, Hannah, in defiance of Mrs March’s orders, had served up a lovely little feast of dainty creatures. There were sparrows and chipmunks and a bashful opossum. The girls’ fangs throbbed in expectation, for it had been such a long time since any of them had sunk her teeth into a recently pulsing vein.

For a minute no one spoke, only a minute, for Jo exclaimed impetuously, “I’m so glad you came before we began!”

“Yes,” said Meg. “Let’s give them our breakfast as a Christmas present.”

“May I go and help carry the things to the poor little children?” asked Beth eagerly.

“I shall take the sparrows,” added Amy, heroically giving up the article she most liked.

Meg was already covering the chipmunks and piling a vole into one big plate.

When all the food was packed up, the March family proceeded enthusiastically to the door. Jo opened it and said, “But the Hummels are human.”

“We know that,” said Amy impatiently.

“Shouldn’t we bring human food?” Jo said.

Marmee and the girls agreed that human food would probably be more appropriate.

“Let’s bring cream and muffins,” said Amy, listing two foods she’d loved dearly when she’d had mortal taste buds.

“And buckwheat and bread,” added Meg.

Having decided what to bring, they were stymied as to how to accomplish the task. Hannah hadn’t made muffins in more than two centuries and in the interim had forgotten the recipe. Even if she could recall the specific ingredients, it was Christmas night, so all of the shops were closed. They had nowhere to purchase provisions. For ten minutes, the girls stood in the doorway wrestling with the problem. Then Beth suggested that they bring the animals to the Hummels’ house and advise Mrs Hummel to make some sort of stew, which she should know how to do, being a poor human and all.

Marmee thought it was an excellent plan and the procession set out for the Hummel abode. A poor, bare, miserable room it was, with broken windows, no fire, ragged bedclothes, a sick mother, wailing baby and a group of pale, hungry children cuddled under one old quilt, trying to keep warm.

How the big eyes stared and the blue lips smiled as the girls went in.

“Ach, mein Gott! It is good angels come to us!” said the poor woman, crying for joy, even as she examined the offerings with a curious eye. She did not recognise the vole but accepted it gratefully, as well as the suggestion that she throw it, along with the other animals, in a pot with some water and salt.

“Funny angels with fangs,” said Jo, wearing a heavy winter coat despite the fact that vampires couldn’t feel cold. The Marches believed in fitting in as much as possible with the community and always wore season-appropriate attire.

When they returned home, they put the bundled gifts on the table and presented them to Marmee. Beth played her gayest march while Meg conducted Mother to the seat of honour. Mrs March was both surprised and touched, and smiled with her eyes full as she examined her presents and read the little notes which accompanied them. The bunny bun-bun was sucked dry immediately, followed swiftly by the squirrel and the rabbit. Prior to eating the rat, she paused a moment to smell it deeply before pronouncing it delightful. Bright red blood trickled down her chin.

There was a good deal of laughing and kissing and explaining, in the simple, loving fashion which makes these home festivals so pleasant at the time, so sweet to remember long afterwards. Jo looked down at her mother’s feet and saw the remains of their gifts scattered like dead things.

Oh, how lovely to have Christmas corpses after all!

Chapter Three (#ulink_c6a52a48-f44b-55ed-94f4-0bb9a7a058e3)