Tuesday, May 28, 2013

SARAH, Jonathon's VAMPIRE CONSORT, speaks from a nice house at THE JERSEY SHORE ... 5/29/30

Baylah's boyfriend has little 'tablets' in every room. He's into technology. It's just something he does for his guests. Jonathon and Edith took Annie up to Ocean City's boardwalk, about fifteen minutes away. I stayed home. I'm afraid to put myself on display in a place like that. Somebody will recognize me. Not 'might'... but 'will.' I've only been like this for maybe a little more than two years. I still have magazines from before 'the change.' And although my eye teeth aren't all that different, they do stand out. They make me self-conscious. I'm afraid to laugh. That makes me look even more out of place, especially in Ocean City.... especially in 'happy town central.' Oh,  we see vampires at the shore all the time. Beings from other bands, I mean. They glide through casinos taking stock of the mortals as they imperiously chose their prey. Of course they 'try' to follow the dietary laws. Of course they attempt to 'cull' only the evil. But sometimes 'bacon' smells SO good. 

I don't like strange vampires. Maybe I'll get over it. Maybe it's just a thing we go through, but I don't. They make me sick. They throw it in my face. They say - This is what you are. This is what you do. This is how you look...... The Vampire Revels were torture to me. I hardly spoke to a soul. I'm NOT like them. Jonathon isn't like them. We're different. You know that. You know it. 

When it first happened, I saw myself as Wendy, from Peter Pan, sent by God (why not?) to 'mother' them. A family. I had a family. And I had Jonathon too. He used Tomas back then. He'll go back to it. You'll see. He will. And I loved the townhouses and the museum basements and all the other places we frequented. You know, I sent money to a cousin of mine. She's like a sister. Keeps calling and emailing. Keeps asking when I'm coming out to Denver to see everybody. A 'familiar' handles the correspondence. A copywriter for an ad agency I think he is. Knows Jonathon's 'voice.' Knows my 'voice.' Calls if he has any questions. My cousin talks to him now. They say it's better that way. But I hate it. 

Still give out the blood vials, though. Still heal people in hospitals or on street corners, or in laundromats. I don't tell them what it is. A few get a feeling. But most don't want to know..... Jonathon's periodic vampire flare ups, like the one that just ended, give this city, Philadelphia, I mean, quite a reputation. I've seen articles... 'An Old City With Ancient Magic'.... 'New Orleans, North'.... 'The Ghosts of Philadelphia.' Pow-wow magic has become the new voo-doo. So called practitioners even run ads in the back of PHILADELPHIA MAGAZINE. Edith laughs at them. But that's all she does. 

Jonathon and I drift apart. They tell me it's normal. I did talk to one vampirina at the Revels. She was all right. She told me. I liked her perfume. Moroccan, I think it was. A Berber, from high in the Atlas Mountains. Caught in an Ottoman slave raid and sold on the isle of Naxos to either a bey or a pasha. That part, I don't remember. But one of the eunuch's had a friend. He'd sneak out of the 'quarters' to meet him. One night he came back changed. Then one by one he passed 'the burden' on to all the rest, til theirs was a harem of life-eaters, even the four official wives. When the old dowager, the mother of the bey, or pasha found out, they sewed her into a weighted sack and tossed her into the harbor. They say it takes two hundred heartbeats to drown. But we're immune to that. Then they killed the master. Drained him of every bit of serum 'neath his skin. For a month they reigned as 'the vampire harpies of Naxos,' although, in truth, they were quite beautiful. But when the Emperor-Sultan himself , Akbar, I think she said, dispatched the great Barbarossa, First Admiral of the Realm to root them out and crush them into dust, they fled, too scared to test their own nascent abilities. And so she burned through many vampire romances. A few were still friends. Some were dead, others forgotten..... I told her I was different. I told her I loved him. She said she did not doubt it, but love and endurance are not the same.

And now I understand.

Let me stop now. I want to go out. I want to walk through almost deserted streets. I want to pass by the occasional mortal trying desperately to walk without a sound. Sometimes they cross the street at my approach. Sometimes they look down. But I pose no threat to them. And they sense it. It's dark and damp and quiet. I like that. It helps me think...
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