Monday, April 20, 2015

Old People can be So Nasty.... 4/20/15

This is Billy talking. Sarah's grandfather is still with us. He sleeps in a basement room. Our basement is quite well fixed. Lower level in no way signifies laundry rooms and places like that. The old man bunks in what used to be a gentlemen's card room. Being downstairs, it was cooler and the perfect atmosphere for high stakes wagering. The paneling's very special. From the same stock used by Pedro the First, emperor of Brazil when he built his palace in Rio. Petropolis, I think it was called... City of Peter... Or maybe that was the second Pedro? When you live with cultivated beings, as I do, you absorb certain things.

The ghost in the basement, the little polio victim, won't go near him. Annie keeps her distance too. He has a history, that one does. We can feel it. Jonathon says he makes his mastoids hurt. I don't even know what mastoids are.

Vampires pick up vibrations. Some via the mandible. Others through the coccyx. With Jonathon it's the mastoid. I'll have to look that up.

Last night he shared a tale. Just goes off on a tangent. Powerful people are like that. It's not about what anyone else wants to hear. I think they talk to entertain themselves.  Any benefit provided the listener is just ancillary. 

He knows a gentleman... an extremely well fixed gentleman, who had an enemy... and this is how he dealt with that irksome individual. 

You must understand that Sarah's grandfather has quite the artistic soul. No mundane 'hit' for him, or orchestrated business reversal. None of that old crappy stuff.

He abducted the guy... right off the street, just in front of his club. Pulled up in his limousine, or rather had his driver, Dickenson, pull up. Said - Get in, Newland, I'll give you a lift to the train. (it was that time of day)..... Newland said - What 'train?' I take the J.S.J. (Jersey Shore Jitney)...... Sarah's grandfather said - Same difference. Get in..... The 'frienemy' did. Five heartbeats later, the strange old man jabbed him in his skinny, white thigh (right through the worsted wool) with what looked like an insulin pen. But the chemical inside was radically different. Sugar had nothing to do with it.

Newland wasn't poisoned, nothing like that. When he awoke, he was flat on his back, staring up at an incredibly vivid night sky. No light pollution here. And The Milky Way, when seen in such detail, can be quite intimidating. So can being stranded on a flat, almost featureless plain, stretching off to infinity in all directions. The eighty two year old sat up, silently studied the sky and moaned. A few hours later they found what was left of him lying dead under a scorpion swarm. I don't think he was anywhere near the beach.

When he finished, Sarah said - I don't get it. Why did you tell us this? You think I don't already know how rotten you are?

The old man just shrugged. But he smiled menacingly, chuckled and waved.

Edith said - You are one crazy, old, son of a bitch. Do you know that?...

The evil, ancient tale teller nodded and smiled. Then he whispered - Where's that little girl?....... Guess he meant Annie.

Maybe he wants more blood?

Jonathon clicked on THE VOICE <~~~ (yeah, it's clickable) and pretended like he didn't hear......

<more next time>

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