Subj: First Foot Pt.2
Date: 5/1/99 6:29:03 PM Central Daylight Time
From: marcos1

His name was Peter Johnson. But the children in Collinsport, called him, Jack Sprat. He was a dwarf, less than four foot tall, but was very strong. He lived in the basement of the Old House, Elizabeth would bring him food and warm blankets. She was the only person that was kind to him. The children in town would throw rocks at him. The Sheriff and older townspeople viewed him with distrust. He couldn't speak in full sentences, only say yes or no. His origins were a mystery.

The pounding was in his ears. He couldn't make it stop. Peter climbed the side of the mansion walls, holding on to vines and creeping from ledge to ledge. His friend would help him. He had to see her. He moved past a window, there were two people arguing.

“What are you talking about?” Jamison Collins shouted at the boy. “Elizabeth is my pride and joy. You should be more like her.”

“But she is expecting a dead Collins, named Barnabas to be at the party,” Roger said. “I'm not lying.” The teenaged boy, was very jealous of his sister. He saw this as his chance. Father, didn't love him. He only loved Liz.

Jamison slapped Rogers face. “Shut-up and leave my sight. I hate you. I wish you hadn't been born. Your mother would still be alive, if it wasn't for you,” Jamison said this, as he straighten his tie. It was important to look his best for this party. There were going to be some very important people there. Roger left the room, sobbing. He hated his father and wanted to kill him.

Peter climbed higher. He moved to the window. He was sure this was the one. There were two young women talking. He felt his heart began to throb. The pounding was becoming too much. He had to get help.

“Are you sure that he's coming?” Lois asked. She was helping Elizabeth dress. “I still remember when we first found those letters. They are so romantic.”

“They are more than romantic,” Elizabeth said, “they are wonderful!” She looked into the mirror, adjusting her party dress, wondering if Barnabas would like her. She looked so much like the woman in that painting, Josette duPres.

“How?” Lois asked. “This Barnabas Collins must have been dead for many years.
How could he be coming to the party? The first grade class that I'm tutoring, wouldn't believe such a story.”

“You are going to make a wonderful teacher,” Elizabeth said. “But I'm sure about this. Magda has never been wrong. She can see the future.”

“Men walking on the moon, people writing stories and sending them through telephone wires,” Lois laughed. “I must say the old girl has a great imagination.”

Elizabeth and Lois, both jumped when they heard a scrapping on the window. It
was Peter. His face was pained, blood dripped from his fingers—from the hard climb. Elizabeth opened the window and he fell into the room.

“Jack Sprat,” Lois said, “what is he doing here? How could he climb up the wall? They are almost sheer.”

“His name is Peter,” Elizabeth said, holding a rag to his bleeding hands. “What is wrong, Peter? Why did you come here?”

Peter tried to explain. But could only hold his head. A vampire was reaching out to him, trying to get him to do something. It made his head hurt, really bad.

To be continued