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Don't worry, it's just a Vambie

Don't worry, it's just a Vambie.

That's what the woman tried to tell me when she pulled open my car door and started patting my shoulder and frantically trying to comfort or soothe me. What is with the shoulder patting around here?

I stumbled out of my car and around it, right past the lady and to the boy in the road. He was very gray, as though he'd already lost every bit of blood, but weirdly, there wasn't any blood anywhere. He groaned and grunted, and moved very slightly and sort of twitched.

A crowd had gathered, mostly keeping off to the sides, staying on the sidewalks. I saw them whispering and pointing but I was still hysterical so I dropped down next to the boy to do what? I don't know. Comfort him? Administer first aid? I don't know. One of his legs was bent at a right angle in the wrong direction. A bone showed clear through the torn skin of his right arm.

Most horrifically, the bottom of his jaw was missing completely. I didn't even understand how that could've happened.

I was a fountain of snot. This was about as much trauma as I cared to endure in one first day of school, but I didn't want to make it all about me. Finally, reality reached me, and the little comforting lady had come up behind me again.

"Um, Principal Breckenridge?" she said, tapping my shoulder. "You should move back, dear. Vambies aren't friendly necessarily. Particularly when you run them over."

As if on cue, I watched in utter horror as the grotesque individual lying in the street, struggled and writhed himself into a sitting position, and then he stood up.

The groups of people on either side of the street gave one big collective gasp very dramatically, then they all scattered and began to walk away quickly. No running, mind you. Just leaving at their own chosen speeds. I don't know why I even thought about it just then, but it seemed weird to see no one standing around filming the event. This seemed like a textbook formula for online viral stardom if you just pulled out your phone and filmed it! But no, they all just scurried away like ants.

The lady linked her hands around my arm and began pulling me backwards. I stared in horror as the disgusting, bottom jawless thing began tripping and staggering forward. But, just as the old lady had dragged me almost to the curb, the boy vanished.

Just puff, gone. I was left standing there, mouth agape, with the little old lady holding my arm, and my car all whopperjawed in the street.

She patted my shoulder.

I dragged my eyes away from the empty place where the boy had just been and swiveled my head to peer down at her.

She smiled very sweetly. "What's say you and I sit down for a cup of coffee together and chat?" For a second all I could do was blink and stare, so she continued. "I'm actually your next door neighbor, Hypathia Gilroy! It'd be just dandy to sit down and get to know you better." She giggled and gave me the biggest smile. "Don't you think?"

Finally I nodded. She gently coaxed me back into my car, to get it back out of the middle of the road. My house was just ahead, and I pulled it into my driveway. Hypathia Gilroy scampered up the walk and together, we went inside.

She made herself right at home. It was like she'd been here many times, which suddenly made me wonder who had lived in this house in the past. She followed me into the kitchen and I went weakly through the motions of preparing two cups of coffee. When I eventually got to sip the divine stuff again, the fugue state I'd entered began to lift.

"So, um, Ms. Gilroy..."

"Oh, it's Mrs." Hypathia said cheerily. "My dear sweet Henry has been dead and gone seventeen years now. But my heart is still very much married to him. At any rate, please call me Hypathia."