She thought it over, nodded, smiled. “Yes, live and let live. Live and let live. After all—” She was having difficulty finding the right words again. “After all, some people can’t help what they are. I mean,” very slowly, very thoughtfully, “like if a person’s a vampire, what can they do about it?”
“You’ve got a good point there, kid.” He went back to studying what there was of the road. “The only trouble’s this: if you believe in things like vampires, well, you don’t believe in them good—you believe in them nasty. Those people back in the village who claim three children have been killed or whatever it was by the vampire, they hate it and want to destroy it. If there are such things as vampires—mind you, I said ‘if’—then, by nature, they do such horrible things that any way of getting rid of them is right. See?”
“No. You shouldn’t drive stakes through people.”
Shellinger laughed. “I’ll say you shouldn’t. Never could like that deal myself. However, if it were a matter of a vampire to me or mine, I think I could overcome my squeamishness long enough to do a little roustabout work on the stroke of twelve.”
He paused and considered that this child was a little too intelligent for her environment. She didn’t seem to he bollixed with superstitions as yet, and he was feeding her Shellinger on Black Magic. That was vicious. He continued, soberly, ” The difficulty with those beliefs is that a bunch of grown men who hold them are spread across the countryside tonight because they think a vampire is on the loose. And they’re likely to flush some poor hobo and finish him off gruesomely for no other reason than that he can’t give a satisfactory explanation for his presence in the fields on a night like this.”
Silence. She was considering his statement. Shellinger liked her dignified thoughtful attitude. She was a bit more at ease, he noticed, and was sitting closer to him. Funny how a kid could sense that you wouldn’t do her any harm. Even a country kid. Especially a country kid, come to think of it, because they lived closer to nature or something.
He had won her confidence, though, and consequently rewon his. A week of living among thin-lipped ignoramuses who had been not at all diffident in showing their disdain had made him a little uncertain. This was better. And he’d finally got a line on the basis of a story.
Only, he’d have to dress it up. In the story, she’d be an ordinary hillbilly kid, much thinner, much more unapproachable; and the quotes would all be in “mountain” dialect.
Yes, he had the human interest stuff now.
She had moved closer to him again, right against his side. Poor kid! His body warmth made the wet coldness of her jeans a little less uncomfortable. He wished he had a heater in the car.