Monday, August 31, 2015


They taped the three little glass slats in the louvered window with duct tape. They carefully broke them with a rubber mallet. Cousin Mike carefully shattered the thin, solid glass panel behind the louvers. He draped a blanket over the bottom of the opening so they could squeeze through the twenty by sixteen inch space... but when it came time to go in, he said - You first..... Ca-Ca blinked. She whispered - What? You said you could do this?.. I can - he said, but they got my DNA. It's on file..... From when? - she said..... From when we stole Jimmy Magliani's dad's car.... You were thirteen and a half years old. Does it count?.... Yeah, it counts. What do you think?... How'd they get it?... Ryan's sister, the one who laughs like a goof all the time, smashed my thumb in the door when we came back from goofy golf. Look, they got it! they got it!... Shhh - she said... And they laid there on the cold, drizzly pavement in their black 'mission impossible' get ups for like thirteen heartbeats in the almost icy, two AM air. In a tiny voice,Ca-Ca said - But, Mike, (pause) I killed someone. (first time she said it).... So? - he said. They don't know and you want to run away, don't you? How much you think hiring some whore to be your fake mom costs? Plenty, let me tell ya, if you want a good one. Now go in.... What if there's bugs or mice?.... They'll run away. Don't worry. You got your little nine volt flashlight?... Yeah..... Then go in, or I'm getting up and walking home. There's money in there. Come on! ..... She sighed and slipped in. It was easy for her. She was ten years old. Ca-Ca slid down the blanket onto the old, linoleum floor. A quick click on her light gave her an instant image. Not much clutter. Shelves on one side held boxes of Christmas stuff. Halloween, Easter and Fourth of July stuff too. Then she crept up the cellar stairs. The door to the kitchen was broke. It was broke when 'Pony' used to babysit her. They leaned an old leaf from a long gone kitchen table against it. Ca-Ca knew that. Mike taught her how to ease the heavy board-like thing out of place with a yard stick (the only tool she had with her). She slowly pushed it through the space at the bottom of the door, til she felt it hit the bottom of the rectangular barrier. If she did it slow enough, the leaf would slide out and ease down toward the floor. Still be a bang when it came down, but not as loud as if she just pushed it. The noise was meant to alert Pony and her grandmom, but no one was home. The house was empty. Immigrants rented on both sides, Brazilian and some Belarus people. Who knew if they were even 'legal?' They wouldn't say nothin', even if they heard. Some people are experts at not getting involved. So she scampered through the kitchen (after a quick click of the light and unlocked the back door. It was cold. She was scared. Then she ran out into the tiny, fenced in space (like all the yards) and unlatched the wooden door leading out to the alley. No pit bulls out... too cold... That's why winter break-ins (provided no snow) are safer. Thirty pounding heartbeats later, Mike slipped through. They went inside. But he ran back out to close and latch the yard door, just incase some cops went down the alley. Sometimes they do. But just sometimes. And you can see 'em 'cause they got a big flashlight to flush people out the other end... Mostly bums and kids 'playin'' with each other. After that, they tip-toed up the old squeaky stairs. No use wakin' up them Brazilians and Belarus people if you don't have to. 'Pony's' room was a mess. Not like the ones they used to show on 'Oprah,' but like she was studying the technique and just didn't have it down pat yet. The old lady's room was neat. Smelled from 'old lady,' but neat. Mike opened the closet door.. That squeaked too. A toilet flushed on the Brazilian side. Mike whispered - Now we gotta wait ten minutes for them to fall back asleep.... Ca-Ca thought a few heartbeats and said - What if somebody goes by and sees the broken cellar window?.... Mike goes - What are they gonna see? I brushed it all inside. A little, pitch black 'square.' What are they gonna notice? 'Sides, the shadow from the steps hides it.... She nodded... Then they just sat. A small cuckoo clock made noise. She peed a little.

Then, when the ten minutes was up, they momentarily clicked a bit of light into the closet...

There, on the floor, behind some shoes, a pile of old Confidential magazines from fifty years ago and a colorful, shiny 'shopping bag' lazy people use to wrap presents in was the safe... a seventy nine dollar special from Sears...

And Mike knew all the tricks....

<to be continued>


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Sissel - Going Home<~~~ A FAVORITE AT VAMPIRE FUNERALS ..8/31/15

The vampire, Jonathon ben Macabi, also known as Tomas de Macabea speaks..... I hope they sing this at my funeral, whenever that may be. The song has been a stalwart of 'noble' life-eater passings for approximately a century. Before that, many used a passage from Mozart's Requium. I wish I could spell. But it's hard for me to pin down words, when I have spoken so many languages. And Vahmperigo spelling is so fluid. Some follow Catalan rules, others Portuguese or Spanish, or the Savoyard dialects of Northern Italy. It is all very confusing. But I speak from the heart... a heart that has been nourished with many lives. And if you know me (and a lot of you do know me) I tried always to cull only the bastards and scoundrels of the world. Were there lapses? A few. Though in a thousand years, so very few.

Now I prepare for the coming of The Biblical New Year... A time to 'die' and be 'born again.' In the past, believing Jews wore plain white garments to 'The Feast of Faith,' The Yom Kippur Service. They dressed as if for the grave... even shoes were white canvas or some such fabric. I still slip in for the evening portion of the liturgy whenever I can. There's an old 'Rite of Spain' (Sephardic rite synagogue) in Philadelphia and I love the ancient Castilian prayers. Sometimes the cantor confers with me on minute points of  authenticity. Does he know my true nature? Well, he never says. And I present myself as a student of religion... which in a sense, considering what I do... I am.

Sometimes, when I'm at the seashore, I pray by the moonlit surf. What better choir can there be than the song of the sea?

And in more traditional prayer sites, at the end of the observance comes The Clarion Call... the rams horn, just as it will sound on the Day of Judgment...'Stand and go forth! The Lord has raised you up!'... and the newly 'resurrected' go home for 'First Food' (the breaking of the fast) with family and friends.

Do you think it odd that a vampire relates this? Well, there are many reverent vampires of all communions. God takes all comers... even righteous atheists.

Forgive my ecclesiastical musings. But for one such as I, who in early times heard the blessed Maimonides himself, preach in The Great Synagogue of Cordoba, it comes natural.

I saw dried, fallen leaves under trees all over town this evening. Although summer's after glow lingers for a moon or two, the old year dies. And however you 'pray' may you and yours be inscribed in The Book of Life and called to Godly Service in the coming year.

God needs all of us......

<the Ca-Ca part of our story will post a bit later>


to keep the mood Kol Nidre (an eleven hundred year old prayer) on You Tube... and look for (yes its true) Barbra Streisand's Hebrew payers on You Tube as well. She does a great job.

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Couldn't post for a few days. Needed to decompress a bit. Spent time at sea shore with family and friends... I LOVE shore towns... could live there all year round... Like nice little Mayberries but with city amenities.

NEXT TIME ~~~ Ca-Ca and her shady cousin, MIKE, break into 'Pony's' grandmother's house.

Sorry for any inconvenience caused by my few days off.

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