Unnamed Vampire Story 1

Marion was glad that she had accepted the last-minute face powder the show’s makeup girl had offered before stepping under the bright stage lights. She decided that the hot-burning whiteness could come from nothing in nature. Later, she would call her husband, and he would reassure her that her forehead was not shiny like a new car. But she didn’t believe it now, and she wouldn’t believe it later, looking for flaws on their TiVo. However, blasting towards the Redding Report’s stage desk in her new pumps made her feel like a superstar, and even she had to agree that her smile was radiant.

Clarence Redding, a notorious liberal pundit, was in his 20th year yelling at a camera about his agenda, and his age had only made him louder. He introduced her with an old timey auctioneer’s holler: “Ladies and gentleman, the potential first lady, Marion Summers.”

The words rolled off her tongue robotically, “Great to be here, Clarence.”

“So let’s get right to it. Vampire rights. Warren Kerrigan’s campaign has been giving your husband a lot of flak about this controversial subject. Now, the vampire vote carried Mark Summers to victory in California. Do you think Small Town, USA will buy it?”

Her husband’s PR team had given her a basic rundown of the things Redding would ask in advance, but it was essentially a lecture on the party line. Rosa, the media director, had finally buckled under Marion’s stress and told her, “Just talk how you want. We’re getting major blue collar votes from the way you talk straight and hit below the belt. Punching that racist at the last rally really got the middle aged white voter’s attention. You being you is your husband’s best chance.”

So Marion smiled, looked Redding in the eye, and said, “Do you mean evangelical Christian America, Clarence? I think you do. I’ve heard the in-human, in prison argument that Governor Kerrigan is making. But vampirism is a somewhat small movement at this point. When Joe Six-Pack sees another opportunity to spend time with his dad or his mom after their cancer treatments fail—which would not happen if the esteemed other candidate hadn’t voted against health care reform when he was a representative—then maybe they’ll come around. Now, they only see a subculture in those freaks out on the coasts. What we’re seeing is an opportunity for all of the country to heal, to reinvent themselves and reconcile with death in a different way. It’s a resurrection, Clarence, plain and simple, and it’s about time middle America gives that a second thought.”

This close to the TV personality, she imagined a smile that the cameras wouldn’t catch. Maybe later, they would edit the twinge away, so that the network could maintain its alleged no-bias policy. Clarence continued, “Your husband, a second-term senator, has spoken out against the career politician. Wouldn’t increase vampire rights encourage not just a lifetime politician, but an anti-lifetime government man?”

Marion nodded sagely in a way that she had seen thousands of other senators’ wives nod. She hoped she had gotten it right enough to carry on the legacy of the hot first lady. “No, of course not. I don’t think a vampire will be elected into office any time soon. I’ve spent a lot of time in the shelters and halfway houses in Oakland and the Bay area, and this isn’t a condition where you can just slather on some sunscreen and hop on a bus to Disneyland. These people are in pain when the sun’s out. A full-time vampiric candidate could never sit long enough in the Capitol to do their job. Not that I know many Republican senators who make it out to cast votes full-time, mind you.”

A chuckle from the audience. She understood then what her husband meant about momentum during the media parade. She took a breath and kept on going. “But you don’t see many beggars or battered women on the hill either. So we all get together and do what we can: select a person who will represent us, no matter how badly the world has treated us. My husband is ready to listen to everyone and do what he can to ensure that all human beings get fair treatment in these great United States.”

And there it was, that little grin again. For the rest of the interview, even after her impassioned rant on education reform, Marion didn’t see it again. Later, as she played and replayed the clip, her husband would be unable to see what she saw. After her futile search, they would go to sleep, as they had for 20 years, their fingers entwined.