Angelina Estragon's apartment was humble but immaculate. The only visible pieces of furniture were a purple leather couch capable of seating two, a well-varnished pine TV stand, and the TV that stood on it. The wallpaper showed no sign of age, and its regular, almost hypnotic spiral patterns suggested that a continuous piece had been pasted to each wall.
"Uh, nice place you have here," said Bart, admiring the polished hardwood floor.
"Thank you, Bart," said Angelina, her voice oozing familiarity. "Are you hungry? Help yourself to anything in the kitchen."
The pointy-haired boy nearly knocked her over in his rush to the refrigerator. Lisa followed him a few paces, then turned and asked Angelina, "You're from Karjakistan too, aren't you? How come you don't have an accent?"
She grinned pleasantly, her canine teeth overlapping her lower lip. "I've been living in this country longer than Vladimir has," she explained.
"And another thing," Lisa pressed her. "The two of you, living alone in this seedy apartment complex…aren't you afraid something bad will happen?"
"No," said Angelina, her tone somewhat more serious. "We can take care of ourselves."
Lisa, her concerns allayed, joined her brother in the kitchen. To her surprise, he hadn't yet stuffed his mouth with treats, but was gazing thoughtfully at the contents of the refrigerator, as if trying to solve a puzzle.
"Bart?" she said.
He turned his head in response. "Lis, since you're the brains of this operation, tell me if you notice something really weird about the food in there."
Intrigued, Lisa began to visually probe the items in the fridge. A loaf of bread…a block of cheese…a carton of milk…a package of sliced salami…a head of lettuce…a box of sugar cookies.
It dawned on her. "Omigosh, Bart, you're right," she marveled.
"Right about what?" said Angelina, towering over them from behind.
"None of this has been eaten," said Lisa, rotating to face the red-haired girl. "The milk carton's full, the bread hasn't been touched, the cheese hasn't been sliced…it's like you bought it all today. Did you just move in, or what?"
"That's easy to explain," said Angelina, her friendly guise unbroken. "The refrigerator broke down two days ago. All the food spoiled, so we had to replace it."
"That's good enough for me," said Bart as he greedily snatched up the cookie box.
"Uh, hold on," said Lisa. "Whenever our fridge stops working, my mom throws in a big block of ice to keep everything cool." She yanked open the door to the freezer compartment. "A big block of ice just like this one."
Angelina's pale face darkened a bit. "That's very clever," she said. "I wouldn't have thought to do that. In Karjakistan, refrigerators are a luxury."
"Speaking of Karjakistan," said Lisa suspiciously, "I did a Google search, and guess what? There is no such place."
The redhead smiled stupidly and held her peace. "Lisa, we don't want to offend our hostess," said Bart through a mouthful of cookies.
A boy's voice cut through the tension. "Hello, Lisa."
There was Vladimir, still wearing his school outfit, gratifying Lisa's eyes with his calm presence. "Oh, hi," said the girl bashfully.
"You are very observant," he commended her. "Perhaps too observant for your own good."
Lisa and Bart swallowed anxiously.
Vladimir's staid expression gave way to a hearty chuckle. "I am joking, of course," he reassured them.
If he's joking, said Bart to himself, then why are the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end?
"Vladimir," said Lisa, hands behind her dress, "I'm not accusing you of anything, I'm just curious. Why make up a fictional country? Are you embarrassed about where you really come from? I can understand that, if you're from someplace like Kansas."
The boy moved toward her, and before Lisa realized what was happening, their fingers were intertwined. An inexplicable warmth spread through her bosom. He's so sweet and handsome, she thought. But it's not like me to fall head over heels for a boy I hardly know. Where is this coming from?
Angelina looked at her younger brother, and her eyes took on a slight tinge of red. "What do you think, Vladimir? Can we trust these mortals with our secret?"
"I trust Lisa," said the lad without hesitation.
"Hey, who're you calling a mortal?" Bart snapped. "I'll have you know that I jumped Springfield Gorge on a skateboard and lived to tell the tale."
Lisa, snapping out of her reverie, asked, "What's all this about mortals? If you're not mortals, what are you?"
"If you're so smart," said Angelina playfully, "then why haven't you figured it out already?"
"Lisa's mind is very ordered and logical," Vladimir pointed out to his sister. "It is hard for her to accept the existence of creatures such as ourselves."
"Creatures…?" said Lisa, stepping away.
"You need a hint?" said Angelina with a fiery glare. "Okay. Rent the movie Juno, and while you're watching it, pay close attention during the end credits."
"Huh?" said Bart, utterly lost.
"I'm only eight," said Lisa to the imposing girl. "My parents don't let me watch PG-13 movies. So unless you're a pregnant teenager, I'm afraid you'll have to spell it out for me."
"I'll sing it for you," said Angelina. "I am a vampire, I am a vampire, I am a vampire…"
"Oh boy," said Bart.
"Wait," said Lisa quietly. "Are you trying to tell me…that you're a vampire?"
to be continued