The Vampire's Apprentice

Sam cocked his head curiously until he finally caught onto what she wanted. Tentatively, he pushed ahead, moving in front of Kitty cautiously. As people moved out of the way, he gained a bit of confidence. He still looked like he was expecting to get yelled at, but no one seemed to be able to decide if he belonged here or not, and everyone was waiting for someone else to do something about it.
 
Lookie there, she might have said, proud of Sam. Her emotions were sappy, to say the least, but Kitty could've cared less. In almost no time at all, they came to the niche on one side of the building. Glass panes to the left, right, and behind; in the distance, Independence Hall stood, claiming its rights to once housing the Liberty Bell; the large metal object in the center of the alcove. Off to the right was a security guard, who was explaining the history of the bell.

"The famous crack on the Liberty Bell," the guard was saying, "is actually its third. The first two cracks in the bell were repaired."
 
Norville's hand shot up, asking for the guard to call on him. He waved it slightly like an eager child in school, his eyes bright.

Sam sniffed at a lady's oversized handbag, inciting a growl. A growl from the bag. He drew back, puzzled. He smelled dog. He heard dog. But he did not see dog.
 
Norville was noticed quickly, and the guard asked if he had a question.

Kitty's "ears" perked at the word question. She loved questions.
 
"Is it true that the Liberty Bell can't be rung because it would cause some sort of havoc?" Norville asked. "Seeing as the clapper has probably been removed to avoid accidental ringing, yet somehow the quote, unquote experts know that it rings in the tone of B-flat?"
 
"The clapper is actually still inside the bell," said the guard. "It's just been immobilized. As for ringing the Liberty Bell...."

Of all the questions, it seemed this one was the most frequently asked.

"Creating havoc isn't the reason we don't ring it. It's so we don't damage the bell further. But, it has been rung, and the sound recorded, so that'd be what you're thinkin' of. On some special days, the Liberty Bell will get tapped, such as the Fourth of July—about a week ago—and Martin Luther King Day, in honor of certain people."
 
Norville's hand was up again, but this time he didn't wait to be called on. "Striking a bell on the outside with a solidly held hammer versus striking it on the inside with a free-swinging clapper would make different sounds. To start with, you are striking a convex surface instead of a concave one, and the mallet or hammer would not have the same bounce-back that the clapper would have. Not to mention the shapesof the two strikers. Therefore, the sound being produced by the mallet would, in fact, be counterfeit. Aren't you then giving out a counterfeit celebration for these special people?"
 
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Kitty put a hand on his shoulder. "I think it's more the thought that counts."
In all honesty, she was surprised he even knew that much. It amused her, hearing facts that weren't from fiction.
 
"Alright, but if we're so concerned about preserving the bell, then why does it get smacked by a bunch of kids once a year?" Norville persisted. "If we're really concerned with preserving the historical artifact that can no longer be used for its intended purpose, why are we insulting it by letting kids hit it with hammers?"

Meanwhile, Sam was investigating the "dog bag." He reared back as the bag suddenly exploded into a frenzy of high-pitched yips.
 
There was no answer to Norville's question, as all eyes were trained on either the bag or Sam. Kitty clutched her dog's leash tighter and pulled away. Perhaps it was best they leave.... Conflict was not something she enjoyed dealing with, and currently that's all this was, if not what it's becoming.
 
The owner of the dog in a bag - an uptight woman if ever there was one and dressed in a three-piece powder-blue business suit with a knee-length skirt - gave Kitty a haughty look as she pulled her barking bag closer.
Sam resisted a little, curious, but he turned at her second pull and followed her. But he wanted to see!
Norville grumbled but also followed Kitty out. "Still doesn't make sense."
 
"Does it have to make sense?" She asked. "It's a bell. That's like asking if using a fake tree instead of cutting one down for Christmas is celebrating the holiday in a counterfeit manner. It's all just symbolism, but instead if destroying a bell by ringing it or cutting down the forests to make Christmas trees, we're preserving each best we can while also celebrating what they stand for.

"That said, I don't... actually know why Christmas trees are a thing, but that's not the point." Kitty glanced at him. "Do you get what I'm saying?"
 
"Tradition says Martin Luther started using the trees to represent something - the old Martin Luther who started the Protestant Reformation, not Martin Luther King Jr. of the Civil Rights movement - but that doesn't really hold up considering it was a Germanic tradition long before he came along, so another theory says he just added the lights, but no one is really certain what exactly it represents or who started it. And anyway, it's actually healthier to get real Christmas trees since about 80% or so are farmed, not wild, and some places give you a special permit to cut down one tree in a specific area in order to thin the trees and avoid overcrowding. Plus, fake trees don't decompose very easily. In fact, depending on the tree, it takes less time for a new tree to grow than it does for a fake tree to break down in a landfill."
Norville finally paused to take a deep breath as they neared the car. "Besides," he jerked his thumb back toward the old bell, "that's not the original bell, anyway. Not really. It was melted down and new ores added at least twice, meaning it is a different item than what was originally cast. And don't you find it interesting?" He paused and turned to look back at her with a frown. "The bell that was designed to, 'proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof,' was silenced not long after it was put into use, relatively speaking. What does that say about liberty in America when even our most famous symbol for it is broken?"
He shrugged. "You don't have to answer that. It's just a thought." He got into the car and fell silent, suddenly sullen after his long-winded explanation. "Let's go home."
 
Kitty chose not to reply, due to both not having an answer, and not wanting to argue. She let Sam into the car and climbed in, herself. There was a pause before she started the car, but only silence and the sound of the motor running, afterwards. They could stop for lunch somewhere down the road, but besides that and the occasional break every now and again, there was nothing else she wished to see.
 
Sam whined from the back but soon settled down. He climbed into the back seat and stared out the window as if it was his personal spot.

Norville said nothing for a long time as he stared out the window. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the glass. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just... not feeling well. The bell was really cool to see. Thanks for coming back."
 
"It's alright." Kitty answered. Who could blame him? This week hadn't exactly been the most perfect. "Do you feel like talking about it?" She nudged gently.
 
"No... there's not really much to talk about. Just crap." He winced as he shifted in his seat. "I mean, that's how I feel right now, but I shouldn't unload on you or anyone else."
 
"I have been told," she said, "it's better to let it out than hold onto it, but that's up to you. I'll still be here, either way."
 
Norville nodded. "Yeah, it's true... but I don't even know where to begin." He shrugged again and rubbed his arm in agitation. "Just feel bad, is all. Looking forward to getting home."
 
Kitty glanced at him. "We should be there by tonight if we don't linger too long in any one place. Sound fair to you?"
 
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