Count Basil

For whatever reason, some stories beckon to be told, retold, over and over again; perhaps the residue of our memories brings back laughter from a place that stores our tears as well; a time when all seemed easy, or easier than now. The complexities of nostalgia circle around us yearning, tugging like children on our shirtsleeves to play; irresistible reminders from far away, yet familiar as the return of March. If we are as lucky as the Irish, the season of renewal rolls around once more. Why this memory; I don't know.

What began as a childhood game soon became an obsession. At night, when certain the parents were settled in front of the telly, deeply engrossed in a film, we convened around a cassette recorder. We were cousins, sworn to secrecy by blood and the fear of the wrath that all could face come daylight if discovered wide awake after midnight. Elina was bright yet a cheater so she was watched carefully by the three others sitting on the orange shag carpet. Scooty was shyly compliant, mainly laughed and thought his siblings and cousin Andre' were weird. He preferred Battleship, Clue, or even watching Dirty Harry films with his parents than the drama us whacko thespian wannabe's came up with. It was early spring, warm enough to play outside until dark, yet still cool enough to make blanket tents and eat buttery popcorn in flannel pyjamas. The oldest, Timmy had a great big flashlight and Andre', an only child, had brought his tape recorder, something his cousins did not have and he would never loan them. Andre' crawled into the makeshift tent, careful not to bump into the edges of their comfy cave which was held down by stacks of Golden Books and unread Encyclopaedias. "Here's my play; read your lines." Timmy always did as his cousin said without question, he was jolly mostly but had a sad streak in him; Andre' made him forget the icky parts of childhood, his strict and sometimes brutal parents, even his perpetual anxiety which led to bed-wetting. They weren't allowed sleepovers with friends, so having Andre' over was special. Elina was jealous, had a keen way of studying others weaknesses and going for the jugular if things went south. She was the tattle-tale, the promise breaker, the one who weaselled her way out of spankings and extra chores. Therefore, Andre' gave her a minimal role in his newest script, that being two screams on cue, and one choking sound. Timmy's lines were clearly highlighted in yellow on index cards that Andre' took from his mother's desk; they aided Timmy in studying with more sincerity. Andre' had not heard of ADHD or dyslexia back then yet instinctively suspected Timmy needed more than his flashlight in the corner before a run through. Scooty was to make eery sounds like Ooo or Woo since he did not remember anything unless related to sports. The play was about vampires which Andre' was obsessed with despite the fact that in school he was forbidden from talking about them except during recess. He'd drawn a very sad vampire with blood drooling from his fangs on his latest mathematics exam and in turn received a "D"; not because of the vampire mind you, rather because he never studied and only drew or read about them in books he checked out of the town library. The school library only had the classic Dracula which was way too boring for his league. He wore black mostly which was odd for a fifth grader in the suburbs, especially when it was nearing Easter in the "Bible Belt"; most everyone else, especially girls were shopping for new white patten shoes or yellow puffy dresses for church. He placed the cassette tape, freshly purchased, into the clunky metal contraption; double checking that it was charged Andre' placed his fingers perfectly so he could hit pause, scold his cousins if needed, then rewind and press play again. The thought of being a director of a real film had crossed his mind, however, interviewing an authentic vampire was first and foremost on his list. He knew he would need to travel to eastern Europe, likely Transylvania or perhaps consider Italy to encounter a priest who'd actually driven a cross of steel through an unlucky vampire's heart. For now he did research and saved his monthly allowance of five buckaroos figuring that by the time he was eighteen he could have enough for the overseas flight. Onward with the play he gave a stern look at Elina who was younger by one year and was known for intentionally coughing or giggling when he said, "Action!" She smiled coyly, her white angelic hair sweetly bouncing in pigtails; Andre' shot her a smirk secretly wishing she would go play with dolls. Timmy looked ready enough and did well in his run through so other than the dweebs as they referred to the younger two, every thing seemed under control.

"Action!", Andre' pressed down the red button to record and read the introduction, he was both the vampire, Count Basil, and the narrator. ( and of course the writer, director, editor and over-all boss). Timmy leaned in eagerly, determined to get it right first go around. He was to be Count Basil's dutiful friend, Sebastian; eventually he would be the Count's late night snack. With a classic accent that one deems all vampires to have Andre' began. "Good evening my friend, it's so lovely to have you here for dinner tonight, welcome to my castle". Timmy cued by the point of Andre's index finger replied in a very detectible southern accent, "Why, thank you Count Basil, what's for supper?" Scooty right on time made the Ooos and Woos sculpting the scene as eerily as possible. Andre' continued, "Please have a seat and let me pour you some wine." Scooty made an improvised woo, which would have worked if it weren't for the usual blunder of Elina falling from her squatting position onto her side laughing in a high pitched tone which pierced the radar of the wildest of rabid bats. Andre' was pissed, "I knew it! You always do this Elina! Stop it, stop it, stop it." The tape was paused. Timmy and Scooty laughed as well until Andre's silence and faraway gaze brought them back to focus. Truth be told, despite their desire to overtake Andre' they knew he was way too precious to all of them, a phone call away, someone that they all could share and behold as their devoted friend. None of them had such friends in school and one scuffle could lead to being grounded for months, maybe even life. Order resumed quickly; Andre' pressed rewind and cut out Elina's blunder. They'd begin from the top. This prolongated things which irritated Timmy so he, too gave Elina the evil eye. Andre' took the opportunity to point out that the script read "dinner", not "supper" to Timmy. He emphasized, "Vampire's eat dinner, only people eat supper."

"Take two, Action!" then, "Good evening my friend, it's so lovely to have you here for dinner tonight, welcome to my castle". Timmy was on top of his game now, "Why, thank you Count Basil, what's for sup-din". Andre' sighed and dryly executed the second "Cut!" Rewind. Scooty said he had to pee which gave Andre' time to remind Timmy that when he had to erase and start all over again it wore the tape down so this time it had to be right. Scooty returned with four grape Kool-aids and a giant crinkly bag of Lay's potato chips plus their four year old baby brother who began to creep into their sacred tent. Andre' looked up at Scooty who had the brightest smile, "We can't eat during the recording Scoots, you know the rules. Aww, hurry up then, everyone drink up and lock that baby out of here." Andre' had a soft spot for Scooty who'd always been bashful. One thing he was very good at was sports, that is except for croquet which is more of a game, than a sport. School activities such as baseball, kickball, dodgeball was his thing; he knew all the rules about televised football as well; basically if it had the word ball in it, he knew about it. Andre' was the only one who took the families annual Easter Sunday croquet match seriously. Scooty hit too hard, Elina hit at other's balls on purpose and Timmy tried but preferred focusing on his Easter chocolate and jelly beans. "Let's get this show on the road", Andre' waited until all were in position and again pressed record. "Take three, and Action!"; "Good evening my friend, it's so lovely to have you here for dinner tonight, welcome to my castle". Timmy with dogged determination replied, "Why, thank you Count Basil, what's for dinner?" Andre' beamed with Timmy's delivery and Scooty added a Woo or two. "Please have a seat and let me pour you some wine." So far so good, Andre' continued in his dramatic well rehearsed vampire accent, "Sebastian, we have been friends for a very long time, your company is always my pleasure". Timmy looked at his index card, "Why look at how bright the moon is tonight!", Scooty did his woo thingy while Elina looking desperate to be a part of the drama spontaneously howled like a wounded mutt. It actually worked in quite well so Andre' kept the tape rolling. " Yes, Sebastian, the moon is full, which makes me ravenous, hah-hah-hah!" More Ooos and howls came together harmonically. "It's getting late Count Basil, I think I should go as the fog is so thick tonight." Timmy actually felt a bit frightened. "Nonsense Sebastian. I insist you stay for dessert!" Andre' pressed on. Surprisingly prompt Elina let out a blood curdling scream. "Did you hear that Count? It sounds like a girl needs help!" Elina made a gagging sound and the Ooos and Woos increased. "I am sure she is not alone. Ignore her." Andre' was deeply in character as the dweebs watched him closely he began to stare into Timmy's eyes. Shaking Timmy looked at his cousin, "Count Basil, why are your ids so ride!" The moment Timmy blurted out his vernacular mistake Andre' fell to the floor laughing so hard his sides ached, the dweebs followed in unison while Timmy felt an immense sense of relief that his cousin was not perturbed but rather humoured by him for a change. The tape kept rolling. When they finally regained composure, Timmy stopped the tape recorder. Instead of erasing it this time, he rewound it and played it over and over again until the parents appeared wondering what the silly bunch was up to. Instructed to brush their teeth and get to sleep they all readied themselves for tuck-ins. Goodnights were exchanged, lights turned out. A few minutes passed and Scoots asked in a whisper, "hey, Andre', what was Timmy supposed ta say?". Andre' sat up on one elbow, "well the script said, 'Count Basil Why are your eyes so red.' but I think we just made our first comedic success."

Present. I have not spoken to my cousins in years, real family drama tore us apart. Scoots and I are on good terms, mainly Christmas cards from thousands of miles away on an irregular basis. Our childhood was complicated, one cousin who was not in the play was a toddler back then whom we shooed from the room; he was killed accidentally while playing with a real gun at a friend's house after school, bled to death. My Aunt was a nurse, just a few houses away at the time. The boy who watched my cousin die panicked when the gun went off and called his mother at work, who then called an ambulance. Our little cousin remains in all of us, a freckled faced boy, red hair trimmed in long bangs, perhaps the happiest of us all. The gun should have been locked away, perhaps not there at all. The father was not a hunter I heard. I kept the tape. Although we don't speak, our silence goes a long way back.