Friday, May 11, 2012

Snug Little Porch in the Haunted New Jersey Pines

Yoo hoo, it's me. It's Edith. We haven't talked much lately. All that parallel universe stuff gave me a headache. I'm glad the aliens we have here in our own universe are more discreet. I mean they do diddle with us, only they fix it so we don't remember much. Like a date rape drug for extraterrestrial species. And in this case, we are them what comes from someplace else.

Right now I am back in the Pines. It's pretty. The air is soft and damp. Everything smells like artificially scented all purpose cleaner, only it ain't artificial. It's for real. You probably catch a glimpse of the fringes of my world as you race down toward the seashore. But I bet you ain't never seed the real Pines. None a them big roads  gonna get you here. Gotta sneak in through a skinny, old, unpaved access road, like what the fire-fighters use when the forest gets lit up. Dumb kids is what does it. No 'Piney' would ever do that. Hurt too much, like burnin' a nipple right off your tittie.

At this time (1:37a.m.) I am settin' out on this little side porch we got. Opens up off the kitchen. Not big, maybe five by seven feet. That's all. My hubby-man, Mister   Edith, jimmy-jammed it for me. It is like a tiny nook built into the side of the house. Got a roof and everything. Like lookin out an open window, right into the dark maw of the forest. Hell, ain't but twenty feet a clearing 'tweet us and them trees. Any hoo-doo they got walkin' 'round in there could run up here in no time. I do got a nice. strong, painted wood balustrade, but what that gonna do? Scary shit know  how to jump too, you know.

Mister Edith inside. He sleepin. Got them quilts wrapped all 'round him. Probably got that little radio stuck in his ear, listening to that all night, call in, 'how you get rid a ghosts and sasquatch' show. Don't them dumb assholes know you can't get rid a no ghosts and night-runners? All you can do is make friends with 'em.

I see 'em out there all the time. Bought liquor from a half-caste big foot once. But his feet weren't so big. Wore a nice, little pair a 'Chuckies' actually. 'Cept for that, he was all naked, not countin' the fur, I mean. Stepped out a the woods one cold, fall night. Smiled. Held up the jar. Swished it around a little. I said - You brew that yourself?........ He nod his head. Grin some more. I got out my red, leather lady-wallet and give him two bucks. Everybody know they got good recipe. Sort a like gin, or some funny kind a vodka. Taste like acorns too, a little bit. Real good. Some folks say they pees in it. But I don't think so. 'Specially not them half-castes. Never did touch him, though. Just held out the money. He pinch the other end. I let go. He set down the jar and we done did business.

I like settin' on that porch. Wrap myself up in a couple sweaters, turn out the light and jus' look. Seen an all burnt up ghost once. No, twice. I seen it twice. Come right up to the balustrade and look right at me. Don't say nothin'. Don't move. Just stand and look. Must a been a right painful way to die. Eyelids all gone. Skin all fallin' off. Hair all bald-headed, frizzy-like. And the lips..... Well, there wern't no lips. Don't ask me if it puppy or kitty. I can't tell. Everything burned clear off. Stayed there for a long time, almost til the sun come up. I did want to go use the toilet, but I was a little bit scared. Not  so much scared, as disoriented. So I just sit there, squeezin' all the parts a my groin together, til it vanish right into the cool, dawn air. 

Gonna go back with Tomas and them others soon. Vampires like my witchy powers. They got they own versions. But ain't nothin' like a real Jersey Pines, Pow-Wow Woman. Wanna find out? I gonna send you a dream. Don't know if it drip in a your head tonight or tomorrow night. But you gonna have it. And you gonna know.... You gone know real good.

I prefer passin' summers wit' them vampires, 'cause Edith do suffer from the prickly heat. And they do got good air conditioning...


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