A Creepy Case of Vampires (3 page)

That night, Giles sat cross-legged on his bed, trying to think up a solution to the bat problem.

He was sure of one thing. Tina’s Bat Zapper wasn’t the answer. Even if she did manage to fix it, it would only scare the bats off someplace else. And what if they weren’t wanted
there
either? They’d just be driven off again and again.

To most people, the bats were simply pests. But the bats weren’t pests on purpose. It wasn’t their fault. They just wanted a place to sleep, like everybody else. Right now, they happened to be sleeping in Father Peter’s church. It seemed cruel to drive them out, but Giles could understand the priest’s point of view, too. People simply wouldn’t come to the church if it was full of bats.

The bats were looking for a new home. That’s what the professor had said. But how did you find a new home for bats? Maybe, Giles suddenly thought, you didn’t have to find one.

Maybe you could build one.

“Bat boxes?” said his father.

“That’s what they’re called,” said Giles, showing him the plans he and Kevin had found on the internet that morning. “See, you nail them high up on trees, and the bats come inside through a narrow opening in the bottom and roost there. We thought we could build some for the church bats. It’s only fair, after all. Their last home got bulldozed, so it’s up to us to build them a new one. But we’d need your help, Dad.”

“Well,” said his father, leafing through the plans. “Some of these deluxe models might be a little too ambitious for beginners—like this bat mansion, for instance.”

“We can leave out the fake skylight,” said Kevin helpfully. “And the porch columns and bay windows.”

“We want it to be nice, though,” said Giles.

“They’re just bats!” said Mr Barnes. “Do they need electricity and indoor plumbing, too?”

“Well, why don’t we build some of these smaller ones, then,” said Giles.

“Good idea,” his father agreed. “Tina won’t be joining us?”

Kevin shook his head. “No. She’s back home, still trying to fix the Bat Zapper. And she sure doesn’t want my help.”

“Still locked out of the workshop?” Giles asked.

“Yep.”

“Never mind,” said Mr Barnes, rolling back his sleeves. “There’ll be plenty of work to do here. Let’s get started, shall we?”

In Mr Barnes’s garage workshop, they began by marking out the measurements of all the different bat box parts on the wood planks. Mr Barnes showed Giles and Kevin how to saw in a perfect straight line, and then how to nail two pieces of wood snugly together.

“You two are catching on really fast,” said Mr Barnes. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thanks, Mr Barnes,” said Kevin, beaming at this rare compliment.

“So, what happened to that vampire of yours?” Mr Barnes asked.

“He wasn’t a vampire after all, just a bat expert from the university.”

“Oh,” said Mr Barnes, “so I guess I don’t need that garlic anymore.”

“No,” Giles said with a grin. Not that there weren’t some strange things about Professor Fleder. For a start, he really was unusually pale. But then again, Giles supposed anyone would be pale if they worked nights, studying bats. You’d hardly ever see the sun. And as for those big ears that were just a little pointy on top, and that strange, squeaky voice, and that thick, furry black beard—well, Giles told himself reasonably, that was just the way Professor Fleder was. Lots of people had funny ears and voices and beards!

“And you know what else?” said Giles. “I did some reading up on bats. They’re not so scary after all. And they’re not pests, really. Their droppings make excellent fertilizer,
and they eat all sorts of insects, especially mosquitoes.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Mr Barnes.

“And it’s only vampire bats that drink blood, and they only live in tropical countries. So I guess we were pretty silly to be worrying about vampires.”

“Oh, well,” said Kevin, “I knew there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. If you don’t mind me saying so, Barnes, you always were a little on the superstitious side.”

“Me?” exclaimed Giles. “What about you? With your wooden stakes and mirrors and feather dusters!”

“Oh, that,” said Kevin. “I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“Right!”

After a few hours, the bat boxes were beginning to look like the pictures in the plans. “This is fun,” said Kevin happily. “I think I’ve got a knack for this.”

There was a knock on the garage door.

“Hello?” Giles called out.

“Barnes, it’s Tina.”

Giles shot Kevin a smile. “Tina?” he said doubtfully. “Tina who?”

“Tina Qu—you know very well who it is! I just came to see what you two were working on.”

“I’m afraid we’re rather busy right now, Tina,” said Giles.

“We’re at a
critical stage,
” said Kevin.

“Yes, that’s right, a critical stage,” said Giles. “We really can’t be disturbed right now.”

“Oh,” came Tina’s voice. She sounded a little taken aback. “I see. Well, what are you working on in there?”

“We wouldn’t want to confuse you by being too technical, but we’ll be glad to show you our inventions when they’re all done,” said Giles.

“Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be home for dinner,” Kevin called out.

“Well…all right…”

They waited for Tina’s footsteps to die away, and then they burst into laughter.

“You were a little hard on her, weren’t you?” said Mr Barnes, but Giles could see that he was smiling, too. “Well, maybe not,” he said. “Let’s get back to work. We’ll be finished in no time.”

When Tina saw the finished bat boxes the very next afternoon, the crease in her forehead deepened. She examined them in silence, her hands clasped studiously behind her back.

Giles and Kevin looked at each other nervously, wondering what critical thing she was going to say.

“Kevin,” she said finally, “did you help make these?”

“Yes,” he said. “That one over there is mine.”

“I see.” She fell silent for another moment, then cleared her throat and said, very quietly and quickly, “Well done.”

Kevin just stared at his sister, dumbstruck.

“Did you just say, ‘Well done’?”

She gave a little nod.

“You’re kidding, right?”

She shook her head.

Kevin looked at Giles and smiled. “Would you mind saying that again, Tina, just so I’m sure?”

Through gritted teeth she said, “You’ve done good work here, Kevin.” It was obviously very difficult for her to say.

“How did the Bat Zapper go?” Giles asked Tina.

“Not…good,” she said, blushing. “I don’t seem to be able to fix it at such short notice. In fact, it’s a complete failure.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Giles with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about the Bat Zapper, and I think it’ll come in handy. Could you go get it?”

“Really?” Tina asked in surprise.

After she got back, they all set off for the churchyard with the bat boxes and toolbox.

“It’s handsome work, all right,” said Father Peter, as he admired the sanded pine and neat joints of the bat boxes. “But how do we know the bats will move in right
away?” He was beginning to sound a little grumpy again. “I can’t wait any longer for them to clear out, you know.”

“Well, I read up on it, and you’re right,” said Giles. “Normally, it could take years for bats to move into bat boxes. But I’ve got a plan.”

“Hmmm. Another plan,” said Father Peter. “Well, let’s give it a try. “Where do we put these things?”

“What about those oak trees at the edge of the graveyard?” said Giles. “We’ll need to hammer them about twenty feet up, facing south.”

“I’ll go get the ladder,” the priest said.

“Oh, are those bat boxes?” came a squeaky voice from behind them. Giles turned with a start. It was Professor Fleder, walking toward them.

Giles and Kevin proudly showed him their boxes.

“Very nice,” he said, taking one in his pale hands and peering into the slit-like opening. “Lots of rough surfaces for them to hang on, the joints are nice and snug. We like to be warm and cozy at night—I mean, the bats do. Yes, yes, very nice. Very nice indeed…”

“He’s been around bats a bit too long, if you ask me,” Kevin whispered to Giles.

“A bit batty, you think?” Giles whispered back.

“Definitely,” snickered Kevin.

Professor Fleder put down the bat box. He took a small box of candy from his pocket, jiggled a few into his palm, and popped them quickly into his mouth. Giles only caught a quick glimpse of them, but he’d never seen such weird-looking chocolates before. One of them looked almost like a beetle!

“Care for one?” said the professor, holding out the box.

“No, no, that’s all right,” said Giles.

“Mmmmm,” said Professor Fleder in his high squeaky voice, continuing to chomp and chew. “They’re very good.”

Father Peter returned with the ladder, and they set about fastening the bat boxes to the oak trees. It was tricky work, and by the time they were finished, it was starting to get dark. Finally, Giles went up the ladder one last time and hung the Bat Zapper on a nail, right underneath the opening of one of the boxes.

“Of course!” exclaimed Tina. “You’re going to use the Bat Zapper to
attract
them!”

“Good idea, Barnes,” said Kevin.

Following Tina’s instructions, Giles flicked the switch on the gadget, and then climbed back down.

All eyes now turned to the bell tower. For a moment, everything was very still. Then the first pair of wings emerged from a slit window and circled around and around the tower. Soon another bat appeared, then a third, and together they streaked low over the graveyard toward the oak trees, fluttering around the bat boxes.

One of the bats landed on a tree trunk, gripping the rough bark with its claws, and peered down at the bat box. The second bat landed beside the box, and the third flipped upside down and gripped hold of the tree right underneath, sniffing and squeaking at the slit-like entrance at the bottom.

“They’re checking it out,” Professor Fleder whispered to Giles.

“I hope it works,” Giles mumbled.

With a quick upward twist, the bat underneath the box disappeared inside.

“One’s gone in!” said Father Peter. “I saw it.”

Giles waited anxiously for the other two bats to go in. But they remained outside. What was going on? Was
something wrong? Then the other bat came out again and flew around agitatedly, squeaking to the others.

“He doesn’t like it!” groaned Giles.

The three bats lit from the tree and swooped back up to the bell tower.

“Does this mean they’re not moving out?” said Father Peter.

Kevin patted Giles comfortingly on the shoulder. “Maybe they just need a little longer to get used to the bat boxes,” he said.

Giles felt terribly disappointed. He’d let everyone down, and now Father Peter would go back to thinking they were all pests, just like the bats. But he couldn’t help noticing that Professor Fleder was smiling to himself as he stared at the bell tower.

“Well, it didn’t work,” said Giles. “Sorry, Father Peter.”

“Wait…” said Professor Fleder in his squeaky voice. “Wait just a second…”

All at once, a huge cloud of bats burst from the tower, soaring across the graveyard toward them. Giles ducked as they streamed overhead, circling the trees. They landed all over the trunks, some right on the bat
boxes themselves. Then, quickly, in twos and threes, they swooped down toward the entrances of the boxes and disappeared inside.

“It’s working!” cried Giles. “They’re all moving in!”

“They were just waiting for the first bats to give them the okay,” said Professor Fleder.

“I just hope they all fit in there,” said Father Peter.

“Oh, they will,” said the professor. “Bats like snuggling close together. They’re very social animals. They don’t need much space.”

They watched in amazement as more and more bats flapped toward the trees and landed inside the bat boxes.

“Well,” said Father Peter, turning to Giles and the Quarks. “I owe you three an apology. I’m sorry I lost my temper earlier. You’re not pests at all. Without the genius business, I’d be shovelling bat droppings off the church floor until New Year’s!”

“I owe you an apology, too, Kevin,” said Tina. “I shouldn’t have locked you out of the workshop.”

“Well, I did mess up the dishwasher thing,” said Kevin humbly.

“Yes, you did,” agreed Tina. “That was, of course,
completely your fault. But then again, look what I did with the Bat Zapper. Anyway, you’re free to return to the workshop if you like.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Can I help out with the next invention?”

“Within reason, yes,” said Tina slowly.

“And can we test it on you next time, instead of me?”

“Don’t push it, Kevin. This has been a hard day for me.”

“Well, I’ve got to go and prepare for tomorrow’s mass,” said Father Peter happily. “I can hardly wait—a mass without bats!”

He said good-bye to all of them and carried the ladder back across the misty graveyard to the church, whistling as he went.

Professor Fleder was still gazing up at the brand new bat boxes.

“Excellent work, you three. I’m very impressed. You should consider becoming bat experts.”

“We should be getting home,” said Giles, noticing how dark it had become. “Good-bye, Professor.”

“Good-bye,” said Professor Fleder, walking off across the graveyard in his strange, jerky gait. “And thank you very much.”

“For what?” Giles asked.

“For giving us a new home,” Professor Fleder replied.

Giles, Kevin, and Tina looked at each other.

“Hey, what do you mean,
us?
” called out Giles.

Suddenly Professor Fleder wasn’t there anymore. But from out of the mist flapped a bat, slightly larger than the others, with thick, curly black fur and pointy ears. As Giles, Tina, and Kevin stood there, dumbfounded, it circled around their heads a few times, squeaking happily. Then it streaked toward one of the bat boxes, did a neat backward somersault in mid-air, and disappeared inside.

For a moment, no one said a word.

“Um, did he just turn…” said Giles.

“Was it just my imagination or…” said Kevin.

“I, ah, don’t really…” said Tina.

They all fell silent again for a moment.

“Well, we should probably be getting back now,” Giles said, starting quickly across the shadowy graveyard.

“Yeah, good idea,” Kevin said, following after him. “Hey, do you have any of that garlic left?” Tina asked, hurrying to keep up.