Friday, April 4, 2014

The Vampire, Jonathon ben Macabi Tells Us of His Funeral... 4/3/14

It was dark. there was a soft drizzle. One of the caretakers at Laurel Hill, a 'familiar' met the mourners at an entrance and guided them to the place, a plain, classic building for above ground burial. Some fear the worms and chose this, only to face the flies. For they get in through the tiniest crack and their hatchlings can be tiny too... worms of the air... maggots.

I am ashes... bits of bone and grease. Few will feed on me.... Indeed, few worms feed on those put in the ground. They are buried too deep. Worms prefer top soil, not the clay that lies beneath. And those so entombed are feasts for microbes.

They walk down dark paths. a functionary discretely shines a flashlight upon the ground, through districts of the dead, or at least the parts they left behind. Ornate tombstones and columns mark individual graves and the nighttime earth is moist with the promise of spring. Sarah hugs the urn... my urn. Leo and Baylah walk with her. Edith walks behind with the two elferinos and two elferinas. Baylah's mortal gentleman friend and some other mortals, 'familiars' and such come next. They found a Spanish Rite (Sephardic) rabbi. Not from Philadelphia. From someplace else. Sarah didn't want local clergy involved in the death of a vampire, because word would get out and misguided people might desecrate my resting place.

We approached the old, gray stone building. The heavy, bronze door was opened. We went in. Small, votive candles flickered from wrought iron holders, spaced six feet apart at roughly eye level. My niche was a few yards in. The thick, marble covering had been removed and rested on the floor. Exposed surfaces were plain, gray slabs.

The rabbi, a rather neat, young man with a carefully clipped dark red beard (if he was, in fact, Spanish, or of Iberian decent, he might have been Aragonese or Catalan. I don't know. there were auburn haired and red haired people in Al Andalus too, I suppose.) began the festivities. 

He said - For The Lord shows mercy to all His children, to their bodies, their spirits and their souls, including the soul of Jonathon (he said 'Yo-na-tahn') ben Macabi, beloved son of Rachel and Michael, who left this world with a good name. May The Spirit of The Lord grant him Heavenly rest among all the holy and forgiven. So may it be. And let us say 'amen.'...... 

After that, I did not listen. Funerals are for the earthly. Though I did make my presence known to Sarah and all who mourned. 

When the service was over, two functionaries from the cemetery lifted the marble covering and sealed it back in place. Sarah, as surviving spouse 'assisted.' The rabbi lead them in the first Kaddish Prayer, for the peaceful repose of my soul. Some of the familiars said polite things to Sarah. She put an arrangement of cherry blossoms (Jonathon liked them) in a little holder under his niche.  Then the man with the flashlight lead them back to the cars and they left. The rabbi had his own car. It had to be an unnerving experience for him. And I said some prayers on his behalf as well.

Sarah, Edith and Baylah rode with Baylah's gentleman friend. I think Leo went with them too. He had a limousine, not a big one, just a regular limousine. The 'familiars' and other mortals had their own cars.

Back at the townhouse, they all symbolically washed their hands with water from a little pitcher left on the front steps (an affirmation of life) and went inside. A woman in from the Jersey Pines to help Edith, had tea and vodka, even beef bullion, for the night-folk and sandwiches, cake and other things for the mortals. The elferinos and elferinas came just a bit later with flowers. I think they bought them at an all night supermarket. Edith put them in vases and placed them around the house. 

That's it. Not so different. Faith doesn't die. Night-folk (vampires), and please know I speak of 'noble' vampires, not the rarer 'noxious' types, tend to maintain the beliefs of their mortal life.

So long as we kill not indiscriminately and 'cull' only the wicked, God understands.

We've always been here. And I mean always. Perhaps we are angels of death, or maybe we pick up the slack?

Some Piney people came for Little Joe. They recovered Pig Blood Annie's body and took her home for rites of their own. Our 'familiars' helped with that. And the interior of The Academy of Music is as it was.

But Peter's still out there and he still has the baby...


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