Bedtime

Each evening was the same, for the first year or two after Lenny had been let out of the box. Although David had established his "official" bedtime as being at eight pm, it was much more likely that he would not begin to make a move towards actually preparing for bed, however much David might nag him over it, until it was considerably closer to nine or so. Even then, every step of progress made towards even entering his bedroom, let alone lying down in bed, came at a very slow pace, mingled with frequent arguments, complaints, and attempts to negotiate along the way. Lenny was nothing if not a bargainer, and he had learned through frequent experimentation that sometimes David was exhausted or simply out of patience from his day enough that he would let him have his way. As a result, Lenny would push and prod and stretch out his bed preparation every evening, in hopes that this time for him would be the last.

Teeth brushing would be accompanied by frequent interruptions as he queried his older siblings about missing teeth and loose teeth, the reality of the Tooth Fairy, and whether she would pay extra for a fang, or simply be scared by it. Dressing for bed consisted of drawn-out speculations about whether it would be a warm or cold night and how he should dress accordingly, several changings of pajamas based upon his decisions that he should be warmer versus cooler, and arguments over whether it was okay to sleep in his underwear alone, as he was sure that Wendell did. If he had had homework earlier in the day, Lenny would often use this as a last ditch effort to avoid bedtime as well, announcing that he had "forgotten" to do a vital part of what was due the following morning and it must be gotten to immediately.

They all knew that he must have a serious distaste for bedtime if he was willing to do homework rather than sleep.

Of course, they had figured out over time that there was more to it than simple distaste for sleep; rather, Lenny's resistance was largely in part due not to objection of sleeping, but of the fact that no one ELSE was sleeping too. While Lenny was "wasting time" in bed, his siblings were all awake and alert, doing exactly what they wanted whenever they wanted, with no one trying to stop them or make them do otherwise. As the youngest child, Lenny didn't have this freedom, and he made it clear, in his own way, that he resented it.

Lenny had repeatedly indicated annoyance when his brothers or his sister treated him like a "baby" when he wanted to be a "big kid," even if the people he was comparing himself to were all at least twice as old as he was, and all but Francis were legally adults. This didn't matter to Lenny; although he often viewed David as a father figure, Darlene as a mother, he nevertheless wanted to be treated on equal footing with them all, regardless of whether he wanted the privileges of childhood, such as lighter and lesser chores, at other times. If they were awake and he wasn't, he might miss out on something fun or at least interesting, left out of family business or even a good TV show that the others were allowed to see and be part of. Lenny wanted to be part of them, always, and to be informed that he couldn't be was enough to provoke an endless battle strategy to have this limitation revoked.

Of course, they couldn't allow him to do so, and the reasons for this went beyond simple conventional tendencies to want children in bed early for a full night's rest, in order to be at optimal health and learning capacity the following day. They all knew that if Lenny had not slept a decent number of hours the night before, it was much more likely that he would be cranky, tired, and irritable the next day…and in turn, that he would be much more likely to lose control or act upon impulse to take it out on others. And for Lenny, his version of "taking it out on others" could very well mean physically attacking them…or trying to eat them.

They had already moved once as a result of one of Lenny's "grouchy days," and they were in no hurry to tempt fates again.

So bedtime was very important for Lenny, and yet each night was a struggle, at first, to even get him to consent to it. Even once in his bedroom, there were the usual requests most nights for a glass of blood, trips to the bathroom, asking to have his light adjusted to brighter or darker, and any other stalling tactic he could think of. Most of them quickly discovered that they did not have the patience to deal with it, and it was entirely too easy to lose their own temper and let Lenny draw them into arguments- which made him perfectly happy, because all that meant was he got to delay his sleep even further.

It was Darlene, surprisingly, who was least likely to get angry with Lenny or allow him to push her around. Though with everyone else she had a very short temper and tended to display very little restraint against showing it, Lenny was different with her, brought out a forbearance that the others could not summon after a few minutes of Lenny's tricks. And perhaps due to this, Lenny rarely tested her anywhere near the extent that he would the others.

So naturally it became Darlene's task, over time, if she were home to do so, to get Lenny into bed. And of course, it was she who told him his bedtime story.

"So what do you want to hear today?" she asked, sitting up beside Lenny in his bed on top of the blankets with her legs stretched out in front of her and wriggling slightly to make herself comfortable.

The question was a formality more than an actual question, part of the nightly ritual, and Lenny answered as he always did, settling back and nestling his head into his pillow before turning his neck to face her, smiling up at her.

"Tell me the story about us," he said, gesturing first to him, then to her. "Tell me about what we are and how come we live like we do."

And Darlene would begin, her voice softening, becoming lower, hypnotic in tone as she looped an arm loosely around her youngest brother, her head bowing close to his as she spoke.

"Once upon a time there was a man and a woman who loved each other very much. But they were very different from other men and women, special and strong and powerful in a way that other people were not. This man and woman felt lost and alone in the world until one day, they found each other. They were so happy to find each other, because they knew they would be happy together for the rest of their lives."

"And that was our mom and dad," Lenny would always interrupt, his voice now as soft as his sister's as he stifled a yawn, and Darlene would smile, ruffling her hand through his hair as she continued.

"Yes, they were. And they had five children together out of their love, four boys and one girl-"

"I'm the youngest boy," Lenny would whisper, his eyes dropping. "And you're the girl."

"Right…and they loved each of their children very much too. David, Darlene, Wendell, Francis, and Lenny…but there was a problem…their children were different too. And this made life hard for them sometimes."

At this point she would pause, checking to see that Lenny's body was very relaxed, that his eyes were beginning to droop, and continue to stroke his hair as she finished.

"Their problem was, that they had a disease, a disease that made them very, very sick if they didn't eat blood instead of food that other people ate. So to get that blood, they had to kill people. It wasn't their fault that they had to kill people. It didn't make them bad. In fact, they were better than other people, stronger and smarter and faster. But it did make them different, and they could never, ever tell anyone how different they were…not unless they ate them afterward."

"One day, the man and woman had a terrible accident, and now only their children were left behind. Their children still loved each other, and they all agreed to look out for each other and keep their secret. So that's what we're doing, Lenny…looking out for each other, and keeping out secret."

Almost certainly by this point he would be asleep, beginning to breathe deeply, and with a soft smile, Darlene would slip off the bed and steal out the door. It wasn't a ritual she minded; she still remembered curling up next to Wendell as her father told them the very same tale. To continue the tradition was a way of honoring him, honoring their past, and though she wasn't' a sentimental person, even Darlene didn't buck family tradition.