Chapter 1
The Hugheses were dead and resided in a contemporary four-bedroom house with hardwood floors and granite-top kitchen counters. The yard overflowed with wisteria, which covered the wooden gazebo and made it unusable. They had no pets, unless one counted the large number of spiders that decorated the ceilings and walls throughout most of the house.
Mother and father Hughes were attractive centenarians who looked not more than thirty-five. Father worked as a traveling salesman, selling Relaxa Vibrators door-to-door. Mother hungered for the eighteenth century and whenever possible wore clothes from that time. She did not wear them as often as she would have liked, since Roger, their eldest child, was very modern, even though he had been born in 1900. Eight-year-old Vanessa was four years younger than her brother and hated having to remain a child. Chuckie, the toddler, cooed and smiled in public but used the harshest of language within the family.
Given his family situation, Mr. Hughes was happy to travel frequently. He volunteered for assignments in the most obscure parts of the world. Drifters and prostitutes frequently slaked his thirst. His family, on the other hand, were careful where they fed. Mostly they drank animal blood. Pets never lasted more than a day in their house. Roger complained about this and tried to hide his dogs in his room, under his bed. But, of course, the dogs would whimper and bark, attracting first Chuckie, then the rest of the family.
The children were intelligent and street-smart enough to live on their own, except there was no place for them in society. Social workers, policemen, medical personnel, and do-gooders believed the children needed protection. So this tightly knit family was stuck together.
“Christ sake, what the hell happened to the remote control?”
“Third bookshelf in the living room,” answered his mother from the kitchen.
“And how the hell am I supposed to reach up there?” complained Chuckie.
“Use the footstool.”
“I can tell you what to do with that footstool.” Chuckie’s plump little legs marched across the room to retrieve the footstool. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard the loud thunk the lid of his sister’s coffin had made.
“Someone woke in a good mood,” he yelled.
“I hate waking everyday to dimples and curls.” Vanessa stepped into the living room wearing her footed pajamas. “Look what I had to wear. Mom hasn’t even come close to washing my Victoria's Secret lingerie.”
“The stuff hangs on you anyway.” Chuckie dragged the footstool to the bookcase.
“My dear, you know where the dirty laundry is, why don’t you walk it down to the laundromat?”
Hearing her mother’s words, Vanessa made a goofy face at Chuckie. He giggled and stepped up on the stool.
Vanessa squatted down on the floor and pushed the power button on the television. The screen lit up in a rainbow of colors that flowed into a rushing train. Since the sound had been turned down, she couldn’t tell what was being advertised. All of a sudden, an engine whistle screamed out from the speakers. Chuckie didn’t turn it down until his sister jumped up and tore out of the room. An angelic smile turned up his baby lips.
“Oh, God, no!” Mother rushed into the living room carrying a pink, perfumed envelope and stationery. “She’s coming to visit.”
“Aunt Marie?” Chuckie asked.
“Yes.”
“Uncle Louis isn’t coming with her, I hope.”
“From the sound of this letter, I think she’s on the run from Louis.”
“Figures.” Chuckie surfed the stations.
“Your father’s not going to like this.”
“He’ll find some excuse to get out of the house.”
“Not this time.” Mrs. Hughes was tired of entertaining her husband’s relatives every time they came through town. She was determined to have him by her side every day that Marie resided in their house.
Roger lumbered into the room carrying his roller blades.
“Your Aunt Marie is coming for a visit.”
“That’s cool, Mom.”
“What?”
“Isn’t she the old bag with all the sex paraphernalia?”
“She’s your father’s cousin. Second or third.”
“Doesn’t matter. The lady knows how to get down and dirty.”
“Mom already knows that. That’s why Mom’s so upset. The last time Marie was here Dad--”
“Chuckie, that’s enough. She may be more reserved now.”
“Yeah, like maybe she’s doing church work now.”
“The Church of the Spread-leg Evangelists.” Chuckie completed his brother’s remark.
Mrs. Hughes listened to Chuckie’s babyish giggle, and her stomach churned. He’d never grow in size, but he certainly gained in knowledge every day. It just didn’t seem right. Sometimes she wished she could diaper him and protect him from all the lurid things of the world.
“Get your ass out of the way of the tv screen. You’re not invisible, Roger.”
Sometimes Mrs. Hughes wished she could move and not tell her family where she'd gone. 
