Some Assistance Required
Long after the last cruise ship left port, Hannah closed out her register. The vendors of Mallory Square lounged in folding chairs and on stools. They talked amongst one another, arms propped behind their hands and flip-flops dangling off their toes. Some packed up their goods for the night. Since Hurricane Hannah's was a cart, all the proprietor needed to do was pull down an aluminum door and lock it. She took her time stuffing items in her shoulder bag, which contained the day's necessities: a notebook, gel pens, phone, keys, sunglasses, chapstick, and enough fruit-flavored gum to give a person TMJ.
Hannah set it on the pavement and began to pull the rolling door into place. Unfortunately, its tendency to get off-track flared up. "Crap," she grumbled and dropped her belongings. Hannah hated technical difficulties, like getting a flat tire on her moped, locking herself out of her garage apartment, and the rare occasion when her cash drawer jammed. Nice as people on the island were, it was embarrassing to encounter problems a can of WD-40 wouldn't fix.
"And breeeeaathe," she coaxed herself. Hannah shook out her arms. Ugh, people were staring. Maybe if she gave the door some time to think about its actions, it would cooperate. "On a count of three," she coached, "You're going to roll all the way down, got it? One. Two... Three." She heaved the door up, then slammed it down again.
Waist level and no more. Literally putting her back into it and bracing her feet against the pavement, she tried again. "Shhhhhhhii---oot." Straining, she smiled at a mother and her gaggle of awkward kids.
Avery liked Mallory Square. He had discovered it not long after settling down in Key West -- though he had no idea he was going to be sticking around at the time -- and he liked the people that congregated there. The vampire considered them all off-limits, for several reasons: it was too public for one thing, and he found it sort of wrong to traumatize a poor tourist by biting them in a place where everything seemed cheery, bright and colorful. Well, not so much bright when it was nightfall, but he had seen postcards.
A sound of grating metal caught his attention. He paused in his stride. glancing about him in an attempt to locate the source of the noise. His eyes alighted upon one of the vendor's carts, and then to the small-statured girl struggling with the gate. Avery shrugged and made a quick decision to offer his assistance.
He approached Hurricane Hannah's casually, speaking when he was in ear shot of who he assumed was the proprietress. "I could probably help you with that," he offered. The vampire made a 'may I?' gesture with his hand.
Oh, man! The chagrin. As much as Hannah wanted to flash a smile and claim it was no sweat, she knew that was a dumb idea. Come midnight, she'd still be there, arm-wrestling the door... Or just re-opening the cart and pretending it was a twenty-four-hour sale. She let go and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Thanks. It gets off-track sometimes," she explained. Because she didn't want to look pathetic, Hannah took a post at one side of the gate, prepared to do half the work. "I keep meaning to get it fixed, but I sort-of suck at remembering stuff."
Yes, indeed, remembering things like buying dog food and paying the electric bill challenged her, so looking up 'door-fixing guy' in the yellow pages definitely slipped her mind. Maybe even subconsciously, intentionally slipped it, since she had no clue who to call.
"Ready?" She waited for his cue.
Assessing the contraption quickly and applying the limited mechanical know-how he had gleaned throughout the years, Avery nodded. "One...two...three." Making sure not to apply his full strength, he feigned a slight struggle at first before sliding the gate down. It clicked into place, and he looked up at her with a grin. "You probably just needed the extra pair of hands," the vampire told her, stepping back and giving the now-closed door a once-over before turning back to the blonde.
"You must be Hannah," he said, holding out his hand automatically. "I'm Avery. I don't usually hang around waiting for people to have technical difficulties," he added jokingly.
"Sure you don't." Hannah wore a skeptical look, but she shook on it anyway, keeping the touch abbreviated. His hand was nice and cool, as if he'd just come from the air-conditioning. It made her feel like a sweaty mess, having sat outside all day with an oscillating fan. "Either way, thanks." She put her hands on her hips and flexed her elbows backwards. "I would've been in a boiling-hot mess if you hadn't come along. I know it looks cheap, but that stuff takes aaaages make. I do a lot of it by hand... the crafting."
She nodded and rubbed her lips together.
He nodded again, withdrawing his hand. From what he had seen of the goods sold in the Square, much of it was either handmade or scavenged. "I'm sure it does," Avery said, feeling a little less confident now that he wasn't doing anything. "I was on my way to Island Joe's for some coffee. Have you ever been there?" It wasn't a lie, really; the vampire had been planning on visiting the cafe. He didn't feel like being solitary that night, and he didn't feel like hunting for a meal, either. Not yet, anyway; that could wait for later. He didn't need as much strength as other vampires and therefore didn't need to feed as often, or as much.
"They make really good iced coffee. Perfect for after an ordeal of this magnitude," Avery added, gesturing to the finicky gate.
Hannah crouched to lock the gate. "Usually I go to Bad Ass," she said, gesturing towards Duval Street and her typical fare. "However, I am not against diversifying. I probably should support a local, anyway. It's just that there's something comforting about how corporate coffee is always exactly the same." Looping the strap of her bag around her hand, Hannah straightened and began to walk.
Avery walked alongside her, noting the name of the other place she mentioned for later use. "I think both have their merits. It's really what you're in the mood for," he mused, settling into a casual pace. He had only been to Island Joe's once, and he had liked the atmosphere. He had listened in on conversations.
"You don't live here year round, do you?" she asked. She pointed at her own face. "You don't have a tan."
"I do live here year round," the vampire told her, pretending to sound offended. "The sun and I don't have a close relationship," he disclosed. "I like artificial lighting. I know that makes me an anomaly here, but..." He trailed off, shrugging. "What about you? Are you Hurricane Hannah all year long?"
"Twenty-four, seven, three-sixty-five," she said. The blue bag spun and twisted on her fingertips. "No offense, but you picked a weird place to live if you hate the sun. I can tell you weren't born here," she clarified, "You're too formal-sounding. But neither was I, so I'm not an island snob or anything." She wrinkled her nose. A neighbor still called her 'the vacationer' when speaking with Hannah's landlord, after years of living in Key West. It was way obnoxious.
He smiled again, glancing at her. "You're right," he admitted. "And that's kind of why I came here. It's so different from where I'm from. It makes me not miss home so much." Of course, Avery really would have liked venturing out into the interesting city under the light of day, but burnt toast wasn't really his look.
When lack of circulation turned her fingers purple, she switched hands. "It beats Oklahoma."
"Oklahoma? Is that where you're from, or are you just referencing the musical?"
She snorted. "That's where I'm from! By the way, the waving wheat doesn't smell as sweet as purported. Particularly after fertilization." Hannah scratched the back of her neck, where a woven hemp necklace rubbed her skin. "I moved down here with my grandma before she passed. Where'd you come from?" Oof, that sounded bad. "Not like it's an alien planet." Quirking her eyebrows at herself, Hannah kept her eyes on the sidewalk. Sometimes, in conversation, she sounded a lot like an idiot. "Well, unless you're gonna say you're Canadian."
Avery laughed appreciatively. "No, I'd imagine not." His expression sobered a bit. "I'm sorry about your grandma." The vampire fiddled with the zipper pull on his jacket. Hannah wasn't far off the mark. Going from human to vampire so many years ago had felt a bit like entering alien territory. He hadn't been back to his home state since; he was afraid to see how much it had changed.
"New Jersey," he answered after a long pause. "I left because, well...some big changes had taken place, changes I couldn't really deal with. And you know that whole fight-or-flight thing? I chose flight."
"Not a bad choice," Hannah said. "Sometimes hanging around for the fall-out's a really bad idea. Self-preservation." Like when her grandma got sick and they sold the trailer and bailed for Florida. Partying for the last months of the elderly woman's life only made up half the reason they left. Secretly, Hannah knew, her grandmother hadn't wanted her to waste away in Nowheresville afterwards, burning some kind of emotional torch.
"But you like it here?" Ahead of them, a rooster pecked at corn feed on the pavement. She gave it a wide berth.
Avery smiled at the sight of the bird. It was like roosters were Key West's version of pigeons. He wondered where they came from, and where they went when they were done scavenging scraps. "I do. I like it a lot. Especially the ocean. And the people."
The vampire looked up to check which street they were on. They weren't too far from the coffeeshop, but there was still a ways to go. "Part of me is morbidly curious to go on a cruise. I even bought a visor," he admitted. "But I wouldn't want to do it alone, and I'm not really close to anyone here. It just seems like a whole other culture." He supposed he could get around the sun issue somehow, perhaps by booking a cabin low down in the ship.
"I bet you'd look like a golfer," she said, then held up a finger. "Not to be confused with a gopher, an entirely other thing."
Hannah remembered an advertisement she saw on television. "Supposedly they have short cruises you can take to the Bahamas. Like a day and a half, since it's in spitting distance. Maybe you can start small." She lifted her shoulders. "Although... if I ever went, I'd go on one of those mega-cruises to Greece. Oh! By the way, this daydream totally discounts cost, as all daydreams should." As they walked, Hannah wondered if she could get a romance novel idea out of that. 'Fresh out of divorce, a woman on a cruise meets a handsome Grecian who speaks only ten words of English, all of them dirty. But the language of lust needs no words... only gestures.' It wasn't very adventurous. Maybe she could work in a jewel heist.
"You've discovered my darkest secret," Avery informed her. "I have, in fact, golfed. But it was at the behest of my father, and it was years ago. And I don't count it because I completely sucked." Now, there was an idea. A short trip, and then he'd see what it was like. If he was bored out of his mind during IT, the curiosity would at least be satisfied and he wouldn't be stuck on a ship for weeks. The evil vampire from Salem's Lot came to mind, except Avery didn't have a coffin to sleep in.
"I think the shop is around this corner," he told her, leading them around a flower shop. He was correct.
"I think it'd be funny to show up at mini-golf in plaid pants and a visor," she said, stepping up on the sidewalk. "Then pretend to take it super-seriously." A woman left the coffee shop as they approached it and held open the door. Hannah caught it and squeezed past her. Her bag full of notebooks knocked against the glass. "Oh, Avery, can I buy your iced coffee? As thanks for helping with the door." A blast of cool air gave her chillbumps. She rubbed her arm and took a deep breath of the rich-smelling air.
"You could call in ahead and schedule 'tee times.' Totally confuse the teenagers that work there," Avery offered, following her into the cafe. "I accept your offer, even though it was really no trouble." He located an empty table and led them there; it was in the center of the coffeeshop. The buzz of conversations sounded around them, and people were sitting with their holiday shopping and enjoying various drinks and pastries. He pulled out a seat for Hannah and then settled adjacent from the blonde.
"It's strange to see Christmas trees and decorations when it's 75 degrees out," he mused, looking at a small menu in the form of a placard that sat atop the table. "And that fake snow stuff people use to decorate windows."
Hannah sat and pulled her legs up, indian-style. "I know. I put lights around the trunk of a palm tree outside my apartment and it's still weird." Her hair was getting on her nerves, so she wound it into a bun at the base of her neck and stuck an ink pen in it, which she fished from her bag. "Next weekend, they're doing a snowman contest on the beach, except with sand. So more of a sandman contest."
She didn't look at the menu. Hannah always ordered the same items at restaurants. Everybody had a mocha frappacino. "Santa's supposed to come out. I'm thinking it's gotta be hot in the suit. Maybe they'll let him wear red swimming trunks."
"I wish I could go," Avery said, putting down the menu. "I'd give mine sunglasses and a fishing hat." A server came to their table, and the vampire ordered a plain iced coffee. "Maybe I can do one in front of my apartment." A light bulb went on in his head. "And I could add a little sign that says, 'visit Hurricane Hannah's in Mallory Square.' I could buy some of your stuff to decorate it." He owned the tiny condo, so he wouldn't have to clear it with any landlords.
"That would be way nice of you." Hannah folded her arms on the table. She gave him a suspicious look. "Some might say... too nice. What do you get out of the hypothetical sandman arrangement?" The good thing about cold coffee was that it could be prepared quickly. Her mouth watered while she waited for it to arrive, and she fiddled with a sugar packet. The waitress brought over the plastic cups in short order.
"Um...well...I have an excuse to make a sand snowman?" Avery blushed slightly and went about adding sugar and half-n-half to his own coffee. "I don't have to do it, if it would weird you out." The vampire wondered if he had overstepped some boundary. He stirred the coffee with his straw and took a sip, and decided to add another packet of sugar. That was one thing he still liked, even as a vampire.
Hannah's mouth went slack. "No, I didn't mean... fuck." She shook her head quickly, as if shuffling thoughts into better order. "I was just kidding. You know, like... what do youuuu get out of it." Even her best investigator/sleuth voice, coupled with narrowed eyes, didn't eliminate the awkward. "Forget it. My comic timing's a catastrophe." She stuffed her straw into the frappacino and sipped it. Oy. A perfectly nice stranger and she made him look like an ass. Granted, he was super nice... The kind of nice that existed in movies from the 1950s, but she was no jaded New Yorker, so why she should be suspicious of it, even jokingly, she didn't know.
"It's okay," he assured her, leaning back in the chair. "Would it make you feel better if you helped me make it? We can take buckets of sand from the beach and haul them to my place." Avery twirled the straw around to watch the chunks of ice form a cyclone in the cup. "I'm not usually the creative type. I'm more of the type to enjoy other people's creations, so it would be a fun change for me." He had also always been terrible at being a loner. Sometimes he actually even missed Margot, and that was bad.
"You're serious, aren't you?" Hannah couldn't help the wide-eyed look. "Sorry for staring. It's just... few people are as odd as me." She poked the straw into the pile of ice cubes. "I always wait for the punchline." Taking a sip was difficult because a chunk of mocha had clogged one end. She alternated between trying to fix the straw and checking Avery for subtle changes in his facial expressions. Also, she noticed that holiday carols were playing on the loudspeaker. Later on, she'd be singing 'White Christmas' and wondering where the hell it came from.
Avery laughed. "I'm really serious. And I don't think you're weird. This city is the perfect place for unusual things." He took another long sip of cold coffee, paused when a brain freeze seemed imminent. "So...are you in?" He looked at Hannah hopefully.
"Yeah, sure." She shrugged. "I have a bunch of Elmer's glue. If we mix it up with water, it'll hold the sand together. For a couple of days, anyway." Hannah felt the spiral of her bun unwinding and slapped a hand onto it. The purple gel pin was no substitute for chopsticks or hairpins. "When do you want to do it?" She untangled the barrel and dropped it in her bag. "I close the cart at sundown, pretty much every day. Also, I'm the boss, so... Yeah."
"How about...Saturday? I'll meet you at the stand. I'll bring my car; that will make the trip to the beach and back to my place easier." Avery stuck his straw to the bottom of the cup and sucked up the accumulated sugar. When he was finished, he slid the cup gently aside. "Do you do anything else besides run the stand?," the vampire asked curiously, tuning out the songs being pumped out of the speakers, and the group of ebullient coffee-drinkers talking next to their table. The waitress returned to ask if they wanted anything else. and he shook his head politely. He liked to stay on the safe side and limit the caffeine intake; it probably didn't matter for him, but one could never be too sure.
"Saturday's good." Hannah took some cash from her bag and handed it to the waitress. Belatedly, she wished she had taken longer to declare Saturday night a 'go'... Like, pulled out a pocket organizer and pretended having a hot date was in the realm of possibility. "Um," she scratched her elbow, "I'm a writer. Even though I'm at the stand every day, that's more like my side job. It's what I do to pay my rent when I'm in-between novels."
She finished her drink. "What do you do?"
"Wow, really? Are you published?" Avery loved to read, and respected writers an inordinate amount. Meeting one was interesting. "Do you write genre fiction, or...?" He trailed off with a slight wince. Ah, that question. What did he do?
"Well, I'm...sort of unemployed at the moment." He fiddled with a napkin printed with the cafe's name. "I like to read, and...sight-see. At night. Um..." The vampire was floundering.
Hannah's face reflected her bemusement. "Sightseeing at night?" She wondered if he had some kind of sunlight disorder. Once, in elementary school, she knew a girl who broke into hives at recess. "You must have night-vision binoculars." Leaning on her chair legs, she tossed her cup in a trash can. Of course, she wondered how Avery afforded the Key West lifestyle, but figured he might have an inheritance. "As for me, I've had a couple of romance novels published. Well, I think of them as romanti-ventures." Whenever she admitted that to somebody -- especially a male somebody -- she squirmed a little. Her grandmother had called that nonsense and said life was too short to care what people thought. Back then, they were just short-stories that her busybody guardian discovered in Hannah's bedside drawer, leading to a world of embarrassment.
"Did you write them under a pen name?" Avery wasn't going to go search for them, but if by some small chance he ever came across them, it might be interesting. He thought he detected a slight note of hesitation in Hannah's voice. "I think it's cool. I don't think I could write, finish and publish something. Well, I haven't really tried, but still."
The vampire realized, perhaps a bit belatedly, that he was having a good time, and he anticipated their project in the coming week.
"Not really," she said, lifting a shoulder. "I used my middle name. I thought Jean Flynn sounded more mature than Hannah Flynn. Plus, that was my grandmother's name and I think she would've gotten a kick out of that." She put a sugar packet back in the container. At the next table over, a guy rose and went to the bathroom, which flipped a switch in Hannah's head. "Oh my god! My dog... I haven't let him out since lunchtime. He's going to piss all over the apartment!"
She gathered up the handles of her bag and gave Avery an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I need to get home. Do you... so I'll just wait for you Saturday?"
Avery smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'll meet you over there. Same time, same channel." He stood, too. "And you should get home to your dog. They hold grudges." The vampire pushed his chair in and gathered up his refuse from the table, walking it a few steps over to one of the trash receptacles.
"It was nice meeting you. I hope you and your gate work things out."
Hannah smiled and waved. "Yeah, me too! Thanks!" She wove between the tables, the bag bumping her leg as she went. Social opportunity or not, few things were worse than a hyperactive dachshund with a full bladder and wall-to-wall carpeting.