Curse of the Smiling Vampire

Chapter 4

We stopped on the second floor long enough for Herbie to show me his father's aquarium. A 100-gallon tank was setting on an oak stand against the wall opposite the stairs. From a distance, I could just make out flurried movements, but as I got closer, I could make out distinct shapes. The giant tank was landscaped with bright red gravel, giant brown lava rocks and various plants; I noticed a long, slender body moving among the rocks. "What is that?" I asked Herbie, pointing towards the blur.

"*HE* is Snowball, my father's pet eel." Herbie said.

Snowball came out from behind the rocks and darted in and out among the large angel fish and brightly colored giant guppies.

I noticed a pair of eyes peering up over a rock in the back. "What is that?" I asked, pointing again.

"Those eyes? That is Bob. You can't tell, but he is a fiddler crab; Bob doesn't like strangers."

"Oh." I let Herbie's strange comment pass and noticed that there were no jellyfish in the tank. "Herbie? Where are all the jellyfish that we caught?"

"Snowball ate them" he said, dropping large pellets into the top of the tank through a small opening in the lid.

"Won't Snowball eat the angel fish?"

"No."

"What about the guppies?" I said, mesmerized by the myriad colors that flashed and clashed before my eyes.

"No. Dad is good with his animals. He has a deal with Snowball."

Snowball swam around the tank in slow, lazy circles, slowly coming toward the front. I noticed the teeth on his first pass by the front glass. "Herbie? What is wrong with Snowballs teeth?"

"Nothing."

"But they are so long" I said, looking at him.

Herbie returned and looked. "He is a were-eel" he said and turned back toward the stairs and starting up the second flight.

"A what?" I asked, following him.

"A were-eel. Ya know? Like a were-wolf." He reached the top of the stairs and turned to watch me catch up.

"A were-eel? What does that mean?"

"That he doesn't eat mom's angel fish, silly." he said, heading through the nearest door.

From the doorway, I asked "But..."

"Listen", he said, turning to face me. "Snowball and Bob are 'were' animals. That means two things to us. One, that Snowball doesn't eat the angel fish or the guppies. And two, that Bob is shy when strangers are in the house."

"You mean to tell me that Bob knows when strangers are in the house?"

"Of course, goofy. He didn't talk to ya did he?" Herbie said, a look of seriousness on his thin face.

"No..." I said, unsure. "Does he usually talk to you?"

"Yeah. Me and dad. He doesn't like mom much because she is always complaining about something. Bob can't stand a woman that complains." Herbie turned his attention to a small 10-gallon tank on his desk. In it was a black and white Guinea Pig. "Come to think of it," he said, "Bob doesn't seem to like women period."

"Cute." I said, going to stand beside Herbie. "What is it's name?"

"Fluff. And it is she."

"Fluff. How cute." But then I noticed what this cute little animal had in its mouth. Clenched between long, shiny teeth were the shriveled remains of a white mouse. "What *is* she?" I asked, stepping back from the tank.