Vampire High Sophomore Year - By Douglas Rees Page 0,26

and climbed up on a footstool.

“I shouldn’t have to do this after what you kids done to me,” he said. “I’m only doing it ’cause I’m a public servant.”

“We appreciate it,” Turk said. “And anyway, you were great.”

“You really call that art?” the little man said. “Scaring someone?”

“Sure do,” Turk said.

“Nutcase kid,” the little man grunted. “Anyway, here it is.”

AN ACT FOR THE TENURE OF EMPTY WASTES

When it shall hap that a farm or steading of any sort shall be left untenanted for the time of three yeares, and no owner be writ down in the towne records, whoso shall tenant it and build thereon a cabin or a wigwam, and plante corne, and dwell for seven yeares upon it, shall have possession of said farm or steading so long as it shall please him. To keep or to sell, to leave unto descendants, and to do all things that may be done with a farm or steading.

“They had all these places standing empty, see?” the little man said. “From the war. And nobody wanted to go back to Crossfield. So they tried to give it away, and that worked pretty good. Like you saw, there was somebody owned where Simmons Mill is up until the Great Depression.”

“And this is still on the books?” Turk said.

“Yep,” the little man said. “Just me and the rest of the guys in records know about it. Well, us and a few old-timers. Kind of a joke. Tear down the old mill and put up a wigwam. Plant some corn and stay there seven years and it’s all yours.”

“Gee, imagine somebody trying to do that now,” Turk said.

The little man laughed.

“Good luck trying to grow corn in September,” he said. “Anyway, that dirt’s solid rock.”

“Thanks,” I said. “We’ll do our best.”

12

Turk and I drove out to our homestead in the empty wastes of Crossfield.

The mill looked different now that we almost sort of owned it. Those three floors of red brick looked exciting, like anything might happen there. And I was noticing details. The tall windows—those that were still there—had twenty-four panes of glass in them and were higher than a man, even a jenti. The main entrance had an arch with a flagpole hanging over it. And wrapped around the pole, all along its length, were two big brass rattlesnakes.

Turk noticed them, too.

“My kind of place,” she said.

“Where are we going to put our cabin?” I asked.

“Wigwam,” Turk said. “We’re making a wigwam. It’ll be my first art installation.”

“So, our work but your art?” I said.

“Exactly,” Turk smiled. “You can be my assistant. All the great artists have them.”

I think it was the first time I’d ever seen her smile.

I was not smiling.

“Guess what, Turk?” I said. “You still don’t have an assistant. You have a partner.”

“Come on, Cuz,” Turk said. “Get real. You can’t do this. You don’t even know what an arts center is supposed to look like. Without me, this is never going to happen.”

“How many arts centers have you founded?” I asked.

“Almost one.” Turk grinned. “But this stuff is my life. I know things. You don’t.”

I almost walked off. Turk’s ego had found something bigger than Turk, just like Ileana had said, and it was my idea. Swell.

“Well, come on. Let’s check out the inside,” Turk said.

“I’m thinking,” I said, turning away from her and back toward the river.

If I walked away, would that be the right thing? Wrong thing, I decided. In fact, I’d be damned if I’d quit. I’d had about all of Turk’s ego I could take. This was my idea, and she couldn’t have it. I’d hang in, fight her when I had to, and make this thing happen. I’d do it for Mercy, and for everybody in New Sodom like her.

The Act for the Tenure of Empty Wastes seemed like a clue that I was on the right track. I’d just have to deal with Turk, and make sure things went the way I wanted them to while she got her studio. I wouldn’t get tied up in a tree house this time.

“Okay, partner. Let’s take a look,” I said.

We went in.

The floor was dark and dirty, and had holes where the big machines had been taken out. There were long lines of pillars running from wall to wall. And the smell of damp old dust was everywhere.

“Home sweet home,” Turk said.

“It’s going to take us a year just to get the floors swept,” I said.

“Then it’ll take a year,” Turk said. “Only I’ll