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    Ma and Pa Dracula
    Ma and Pa Dracula
    Ma and Pa Dracula
    Ebook108 pages1 hour

    Ma and Pa Dracula

    By Ann M. Martin

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    Jonathan thinks his parents are normal—but he’s about to see the light of day

    Nine-year-old Jonathan is convinced that sleeping during the day and waking at night is what every kid does—especially if your parents work at a blood bank all night. But when he breaks his parents’ rules and sneaks outside during the daytime, he meets Tobi, a neighborhood girl who fills him in on the truth about telephones, TV, and school. Shocked at his discovery, Jonathan confronts his parents, who tell him the truth about their nocturnal life.

    Determined to fit into the daytime world, he convinces his parents to let him go to school and make friends. But it isn’t easy being the new kid—especially when your parents are vampires whose supplies from the blood bank are getting low. Maybe inviting his friends over wasn’t such a good idea after all.  

    This ebook features an illustrated personal history of Ann M. Martin, including rare images from the author’s collection.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Media
    Release dateApr 22, 2014
    ISBN9781453298015
    Ma and Pa Dracula
    Author

    Ann M. Martin

    Ann M. Martin grew up in Princeton, New Jersey. After attending Smith College, where she studied education and psychology, she became a teacher at a small elementary school in Connecticut. Martin also worked as an editor of children’s books before she began writing full time. Martin is best known for the Baby-Sitters Club series, which has sold over one hundred seventy million copies. Her novel A Corner of the Universe won a Newbery Honor in 2003. In 1990, she cofounded the Lisa Libraries, which donates new children’s books to organizations in underserved areas. Martin lives in upstate New York with her three cats.

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    • 5/5
      Ann Martin, author of the babysitters club, truly outdone herself again!

    Book preview

    Ma and Pa Dracula - Ann M. Martin

    1

    Moving

    THE RATTLY OLD CAR sped through the night. Jonathan Primave stared into darkness.

    Go to sleep, Jonathan, said Mr. Saginaw, Jonathan’s tutor.

    But Jonathan couldn’t. No one else was asleep. Besides, he only got to ride in a car once or twice a year—whenever his family moved. Jonathan didn’t want to miss a thing.

    In the front seat, Mrs. Primave began to scream. Vlad! Look out! Look out, Vlad! Look out, look out, look out!

    Mr. Primave hit the brakes.

    EEEEEEEECH! The car skidded to a stop.

    Mr. Primave turned to his wife. What was it? What did you see?

    I saw, um … I—I saw …

    "Dear, if you are going to screech every ten minutes, then perhaps you should drive," said Jonathan’s father.

    No, no, no. That is quite all right. I have not driven in decades, replied Mrs. Primave. I do not wish to start in the dark, while we are pulling the trailer. I will just help you.

    Mr. Primave sighed. Do not help me too much, though, he said.

    Jonathan looked at his parents. He could barely see them. The car was stopped on an out-of-the-way country road. There were no streetlights or houselights—only the light from a round, full moon.

    Although Ma and Pa were husband and wife—not related at all, of course—they looked remarkably alike. Both had black hair, although Pa’s was short, and Ma’s was so long she could coil it around and around on her head. Their teeth were white and straight, with two long pointy ones on the top, on either side. Their fingernails looked like claws and their ears were pointed. An interesting thing that Jonathan had noticed was that he and Mr. Saginaw did not have fangs or claws. Jonathan just supposed that parents did, and boys and tutors did not. Ma and Pa were very, very thin and their skin was icy-cold. (Jonathan and Mr. Saginaw were nicely rounded with pleasant, warm skin.)

    Another interesting thing that Jonathan noticed was that in the evening, when his parents woke up, their dark eyes were lifeless—no sparkle—and their skin was deathly white. But by morning, when they returned from work and were ready to go to bed, their eyes were bright and their skin flushed red.

    Oh, well, thought Jonathan. Some people never looked good first thing in the evening.

    Sometimes Jonathan wondered how old Ma and Pa were.

    He had asked them a number of times but had never gotten a straight answer. Once Ma had said, As old as the hills. Once Pa had said, Old enough. Once Ma had said, Older than you. And once Pa had said, Two hundred and twelve.

    Jonathan jumped as Pa started the car with a jerk. It shook and rattled and coughed and sputtered. Jonathan thought that was how all cars sounded when they started up. That was because he had never known any other cars.

    Once he’d read about a fancy, smooth-sounding car in a book, but that hardly counted. An author could write anything in a book. Jonathan’s parents had lectured him about that lots of times. How often had Ma or Pa said to him, Do not believe everything you read, Jonathan?

    They said it every time Jonathan asked a question like, "Ma, why is it that in all these books, the people are awake during the day—when it’s light outside—and asleep during the night—when it’s dark outside? That is how these people live, Ma. Are some people really like that?"

    And Mrs. Primave had said, Do not believe everything you read, Jonathan.

    That had also been the Primaves’s answer when Jonathan had said, "The boy in this book goes to a place called school, and when he’d said, The girl in this book keeps a dog in her house, and again when he’d said, These children leave their house and play outside."

    But the night Jonathan said, I read about a boy who watches something called TV, Ma and Pa sprang into action.

    Where did you get that book? asked Ma. You know TV is make-believe, do you not?

    How much do you know about TV? asked Pa. Did it mention radio?

    Ma had elbowed Pa in the ribs then, and the Primaves had called in Mr. Saginaw.

    "Jonathan read about TV," they’d said accusingly.

    Poor Mr. Saginaw, Jonathan thought as the car screeched along. He had felt sorry for him. "I did not mean to read about it, Jonathan had apologized, but it was right there. It was in that book about the chocolate factory."

    Ah … harrumph. Mr. Saginaw had adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. Nervously, he’d straightened his necktie and slicked his hair back. "That would have been Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Mr. Roald Dahl," he had said, and harrumphed again.

    Mr. Saginaw was the primmest, most proper person Jonathan knew. (Although he was the only person Jonathan knew, apart from Ma and Pa.) Mr. Saginaw cared deeply for Jonathan, but he had difficulty showing his feelings. Mostly he just harrumphed. He harrumphed when he was nervous or upset or pleased.

    Mr. Saginaw had helped to raise Jonathan. He cooked all their meals and ate them alone with Jonathan. Ma and Pa never ate. Not at home, anyway. Jonathan supposed they ate at work. They left for work each evening, soon after Jonathan had woken up. At dawn, they returned, not long before it was time to go to bed. While they were away, Mr. Saginaw tutored Jonathan. This is what happened seven days a week, year round. It was the only life Jonathan had known.

    Jonathan leaned back as the car whizzed through the night. He glanced at Mr. Saginaw, who was sitting next to him, falling asleep. Mr. Saginaw had taught Jonathan how to read. He was in charge of picking out his books. That was why, when Ma and Pa found out about the chocolate-factory book, they had been upset with Mr. Saginaw.

    Why did you select that book for Jonathan? Mr. Primave had asked.

    Well, it seemed so utterly silly, said Mr. Saginaw. It is the story of a youngster, Charlie Bucket, who wins a trip through a chocolate factory. I have made it clear to Jonathan that fiction is entirely made up. Nothing about it is true at all.

    That was how Jonathan knew that authors could write whatever they felt like writing. It was also how he

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