RINGSIDE SEATS

The 'noxious' breed tends to be territorial. More so than the 'nobles.' They very rarely develope any support system. No willing 'familiars' for them. No warm, snug beddy-bye spots. They haunt the dark. They sleep in caves and holes. They wear a bunch a crap, when they wear anything at all. Some say the Biblical Lilith was one. But as I ain't never knowed her face to face, there is no way for me to comment on that.

These wild, children of the night usually travel in pairs. Gennder don't make no difference. You are liable to encounter some big, threehundred pound vaguely woman looking thing  hooked up with a little, pencil-necked vampire geek. You know what I mean? So Lorenzo and Kadeema are close to normal looking, if y'all happen to be a little bit hopped up or totin' a heavy load a wine in your belly. They keep to theyself. Most a their kind do. but a certain amount a 'driftin'' does take place, 'cause they don't sleep in the same dirty nest every night. So battles occasionally do occur. Wild stuff. Blood flyin'. Assorted, mismatched limbs twirlin' through the air. Old lady witnesses drivin' by in old lady cars goin' berserk and crashin' into trees and all. Cops blowin' whistles and runnin' the other way. Yeah it happens in America! They say it don't. but we all know what big liars 'they' are.

Now here's what's goin' down right now. Kadeema havin' fum with some tourist  couple. I don't know where they ftom. Poland or Germany or Hungary or someplace like that. I been a dead spirit hangin' 'round the I-95 (major east coast, north-south super highway) corridor in America so long, I don't know why they got me channeling this. Guess they get crossed signals in the Dead Zone too or something. Don't ask me where the hell that Johannan bitch is. By rights, he should be the one doin'' all the talkin.' Wait I see him. I am gonna pinch him real hard.  And I got these long strong finger nails too. Like the shells from Brazil nuts they are. Hey, we might be disembodied spirits (most a the time) but certain habits die hard, like a good  diggin' and scratchin'finger nail fight. And I sure as hell know you understand what I mean.

So Kadeema got the woman cornered up against this big rock. That's what she gets  for bein' so cheap. Coulda peeled off a few a them whacked new Euros and been wigglin' her tushie into a mostly bedbug free mattress in one a the official camp sites. Her husband shoulda smack her. Yeah, I know that is no longer politically smiled upon. But I don't mean 'smack her' smack her. I mean just raise his hand like he gonna do it. You know, scare her a little. Sure woulda saved a lot a trouble, 'cause she is certainly shittin' herself right now.

That noxious bitch just bit off the sick, little end a one a her taa-taas. Ooooh, she screamin'! The husband got his eyes rollin' up into the top a that bald, greasy head .. (that's cause Lorennzo is chokin' him real good) I do not think the male noxious intends to kill him. Not that way. He just wanna shut him up a little. Now the tourist woman sittin' on her squishy bootie  cryin' and cryin.' The man tourist just got part a his neck bit open. Look at Lorenzo chewin' on that gummy gristle. I never realized it was so white. Don't worry. The vampires ain't swallowin' none a those bit-off, or chewed-up parts . They just do it to be mean and because it's so damn much fun. Soon as it stops bein' fun, them humans gonna go 'gook' (means breathe they last...rhymes with cook) in the usual vampire inspired manner. Lucky the woods is thick 'round here, real Hansel and Gretel like. Only I ain't seen no house made outta stale, sickening tasting European cookies yet. Not even in the little gift kiosk they got squattin' over in the middle of the tourist section. . But just lemme wait till all this photogenic killin' gets done. Then I'll have me some time to look around.

And even though our gruesome twosome ain't gotta deal with no human eyes watchin' all this, that don't mean nobody else ain't takin' it all in. There go a pretty hazel pair right over there. See? Just behind that bush. Ain't she a sweet little life-eater thing? Look just like that sorta red haired one from Thelma and Louise, only a few years younger. And  that Spanish-lookin' vamparino with her does tend to favor a juvenile Antonio what's-his-name if you ask me. Bet we'll be seein' some more a them real soon.

Oh, you wanna know why I talk like all this? Well, my daddy was the voice for Foghorn Leghorn, ya know. And let's just say the role came natural to him. It a family thing. So shet up...I  got me some violence to watch here....

SARAH FILLS US IN ON THINGS

Right off, I want you to know this is me talking. It's Sarah. They tell me I have a role to play in all this, but everyone else pushes in front of me. You should see Jonathon. He's going more 'meditterano' by the minute, mixing the Italian with the Provencal with the Catalan. But that's how they do it. That's 'Vahmpeerigo,' la lungua de los Vampiros, the tongue of the vampires. Oh, he strikes poses and waxes poetic. You know how some Europeans get. He's not 'Jonathon' anymore....Now he's Jonathon-Tomas, his Spanish name. And he says it this way. He says 'Yo-na-tahn--Toe-mas, real fast. You know Mandy Patinkin, in The Princess Bride? Well then you know what I'm dealing with. Next it'll be flamenco. Watch, you'll see. He liked that 'cull' the other night. He liked how he handled that ratty, little gangster guy. Not one false move. New-Age vampire central casting all the way. And the alpine breezes blow his hair just so. Mine to actually. It's hard to be plain in an environment like this. We went into a nice, cozy, Euro-contemporaty rest stop along one of the main roads (still narrow) in Il Parco Nazionale del Gran Paradiso (Romantic scenery to die for). Sure, we didn't want the coffee. You know that. We just wanted to look at the humans and smell the sumptuous Piedmontese aromas.  But the humans also apparently wanted to examine us. One woman told me I was 'motto bella,' I think she said. The husband compared me to a  young Susan Sarandon. He was making eyes at me the whole time. Said he thought Jonathon, no, Yo-na-tahn--Toe-mas, was my younger brother. Whew! You know he didn't like that. But always the courtly Spaniard, he just flashed him his best Andalucian sonrisa (smile) and gave him a curt, little nod.

I could exist here for ever. We carry very little with us, maybe a backpack. Sometimes we lose that. It's easy to sublimate through the wall of some cute, tiny souvenir kiosk and make off with a new ensemble, if you like tee-shirts, hoodies and sandals. Jonathon leaves some of the cash he takes from his 'culls.' We're vampires, but we're not thieves. It's important to me that you know that, OK?

The air here is incredible. The moonlight, like magic. I was two feet from a family of chamois yesterday. You know, those white, long-haired mountain goats with the short, black horns? Beautiful. The mother led her two kids right into our cave. Oh, she stopped short when she sensed us. I know she couldn't see us that far back, not with all the twists and turns. But I could see her. I guess it's those cat's eyes we've got. And the little ones were just adorable. One came up and sniffed my hand. Oh, I almost cried. How can humans possibly eat lamb chops? You tell me that. You'd have to be a real animal.

I slip into nearby towns every now and then, to visit the hopelessly ill. I can smell them. It's a talent of mine. I'll sublimate into some isolated niche in a hospital, or a modest, little sick-room in a house and quietly perform a minor miracle or two. This is my routine. This is how I do it. If they wake up, I say - Fear not. I am come to heal your pain......Remember this is a Catholic area, at least culturally. They're used to such things. According to the local newspaper, saints swing through here all the time. Must be on the annual tour or something? So then, when I have their attention, I bite into my lip, just enough to draw a drop or two, go over to the bedside, kneel down and administer 'the kiss of life.' Next morning, when I'm long gone, Nonna's asking for her biscotti and latte and cursing the grandkids for losing her false teeth again. I don't know. It just makes me feel good. Sure, Jonathon does it too. He taught me how to give that 'Fear not...' speech in the local dialect. But with me, it's different. In my case, I think it's why I was MADE a vampire.

Only thing wrong with all this is the smell. It's real weak. Just a slight, little whiff. I pick it up sometimes late at night, right before the dawn. It's a vampire smell. I'm almost sure of it. Yet it's a bit different. Jonathon smells it too. I can read his mind a little better than he realizes. This is 'noxious' territory. There's no way to avoid it. We have to go through it. Who knows? Maybe it's part of our pilgrimage? Maybe it's like a test? And maybe...we're both starting to get a little scared. Well, at least the world didn't end a few hours ago...Right? Thank God for that.........