Saturday, March 30, 2013

The Night-Folk Had a Meeting... 3/31/13

'We are all responsible.'..... That's what he said. He didn't yell, or raise his voice. He just stood up, walked down to the front and said it. They had a good turn out. All the Philadelphia night-folk were there... the vampires, the elferinos (actually pubescent vampires), a few 'manipulators.' You know, they really don't like to be called witches, or warlocks, or necromancers, or wizards. They're manipulators. They know how to change things. A few people from the press are here too, mostly hip, young, Center City types who write for entertainment-leisure weeklies. I don't know if they're gonna print or post anything right away, but they sure got big eyes and they're sure looking around a lot. 

After he said 'We are all responsible,' Jonathon went on, reminding them how (most) vampires were revered personages prior to the Crusades and the subsequent Inquisitions. They served princes. They served courts. They served clergy. True, a few were no more than well placed, supernaturally equipped spies. But most took their calling seriously, as members of the 'demi-angelic' host. 'Cull the wicked. Save the worthy.' That's the credo. That's the way. And a small group of vampires from out of town, sitting together down toward the back, politely clapped when he said it.

Let me tell you where this happened. You know that 'nice' cafe they got upstairs at the Art Museum, the one with the crisp, clean tables and chairs and the well framed pictures on the walls? That's where. A few of the directors and curators were there. Two or three of them (social types) knew some of the night-folk from that ten thousand dollar a seat (for charity) house party thing Marianne sponsored a while back. Though none of them sat together. Uniformed guards drank coffee. Real cops stood around with their arms crossed, chewing gum and all. You know that (well practiced) tough, 'judgmental' look they got? And these weren't random cops. They were from  a few secret squads used to working with vampires and all. 

A guy from the mayor's office pleaded for discretion. He said there'd be religious chaos and sectarian war should wide spread knowledge of what goes on after dark actually get out. Said people weren't ready for it. That made Jonathon mad. Everybody in the room could tell, 'cause when a vampire gets angry, they develop a knife-edged tension, like a steel spring, or a deltoid just about to snap. Started yelling. Said - We have a ghoul, a disgusting, loathsome, spidery animal, shredding innocent people with his teeth, left and right, all over the place and how the hell do you think you're EVER going to catch him without some night-folk help!? What? They can accept Batman? They can accept Spider Man and they can't accept us? You know, fifty seven percent of males between the ages of ten and twenty four think those characters are real!? Just wait til we start making things better on the street. Just wait til late night street crime disappears. Alright, not disappears, but certainly diminishes. Wait til we start giving out REAL money to homeless people sleeping on steam vents. Wait til we start helping run-a-ways. The elferinos and elferinas are PERFECT for that. I'm tired of this. I'm done with it. I don't care if 'they're' not ready for it  or not. It's time and it's gonna happen!!! Almost every one of you sitting here claims to have some sort of religion... some sort of 'something,' but you do shit. And don't talk to me about some donation you made to some charity in order to get seats at the 'right' reception with a lot of self conscious, greasy faced sartorially challenged assholes grimacing for the camera. It's done! It's done! It's done! You know who's taking back the night? We are!....... Then he quickly cracked a kink out of his neck and sat down. Sarah rubbed his back. Somebody shoved a vodka on ice at him. He downed it like Sprite.

A few people clapped. Most, all of a sudden, got real interested in looking down at their hands. Nobody knew what to say. The twenty-somethings from the weekly papers started laughing. Two women from the museum started passing out these big black and white cookies everybody likes. You know, food's the best balm of all. Vampires and related folk didn't get cookies. They got pomegranate flavored mineral water.

But everybody knew nighttime in the city would never be the same again. And the guy from the mayor's office actually had a somewhat severe  myocardial   infarction.

Jonathon gave him a restorative 'bloody finger' on his way out.  That's where a vampire bites into his own digit, makes it bleed and shoves it down the throat of a deserving (or not) mortal in distress.

Six heartbeats later (after sublimating) they were out on the street and within ten minutes, he and Sarah gave fifteen thousand dollars to a well known homeless threesome (called Manny, Moe and Jack) frequenting the classic entry-way to the grand Central Library.

By that time, three or four of the all night museum squatters had crashed the meeting (it was till going strong), but nobody cared. The guy in the baseball-antler cap got three of the big black and white cookies, plus a big, ice-cream soda glass filled with white wine.

What can I tell you? Salvation ain't easy...

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