Tuesday, February 25, 2014


There was a mouse in the kitchen. Tomas didn't care. Sarah felt sorry for it. Conrad right away started to projectile vomit. And Leo, his hyper, ersatz step night-folk brother (they came into the 'family' at the same time) said - You're a vampire, you crazy son of a bitch! Stop bein' such a pansy!... And then he slapped him right across the back of his head. Edith said - I'm sorry. I'm not gonna have it. I cook food in there. I eat. Billy eats. You all drink tea and coffee and broth and all. No, I'm not gonna have it...... Conrad said - You forgot the baby. You didn't say 'Boopsie.'........... That set her off. She smashed a plate on the granite island and yelled - Ok, ok, ok! Boopsie! Boopsie! But what the hell's a mouse gonna do to a God damned little rat like her!? And I don't think she's a baby! Do you know that!? I don't think she's a BAY-BEE!..... Tomas said - What do you want me to do, drive her out in the country and set her free? We're stuck with her now.... Sarah added - Look, she's a baby, a witch-baby, but a baby. So that's it. And you're a witchy-woman. You have some of those abilities. What do you care?..... Look, don't judge me! Go read a book. You don't talk. You don't say nothing. Go read! And I am not a' born' witch. I just know a few things and can do a few things. That shitty, little bundle upstairs is something else. - said Edith. And she was really serious. Last week, Boopsie gave her cooties. No, really, she did. Who knows where she got the idea. Sarah pushes her around in the stroller. Walks her through TOYS R US. Maybe she saw something on a shelf? But still, how would she make the connection? Only now, tiny, barely visible, multicolored, plastic, mite things are eating Edith alive and what do you do to kill something what ain't even organic? Sarah has to groom her like a monkey. Ghost boy from the basement won't go neat her, 'cause one night she 'froze' him like a stationary translucent 'cloud' and levitated him outside. Looked like a 'crashed' hologram. People were passing their hands through him and looking for the projector. He don't like it. I mean he's a nice, littler boy, after all. It's a shame that he's dead. It's a shame he had polio. No, it really is. But living with vampires and all the rest of the unusual guest stars makes me philosophic.  Even if science gets us to the point where people live for like two hundred years, we're still gonna be dead a lot longer than that. And I believe too, just like the rest of you. But it still makes you think sometimes. Tomas used to sit and look at 'Papa' and say - Twenty eight thousand years old and he still can't solve a cryptogram. ..... You know, time is just time, unless you do something with it. 

And while they were all downstairs gettin' real with each other, the little bundle up in her crib did something else. Climbed out, crawled over to the bureau, hoisted herself up on top of it using the draw pulls as stirrups, padded over to the window (ain't got no attached mirror up there. got a cheval, Second Empire mirror off to the side. Sarah worked with the decorators and attached, bureau mirrors are officially 'yucky.' Decorator says - Raymour & Flanigan are worse than Sacco and Vanzetti ), 'witched it open, gingerly stood up, stepped out onto the narrow brick ledge (it was night. their street was pretty much residential, so nobody saw) and reached out her little mitts, as she baby gurgled to a peregrine falcon (you see them in the city from time to time), which understood a bit of (born) witch-baby talk and flew over, laboriously hovering just beyond and above where her head was. Boopsie leaned forward ( a true test of faith) and grabbed hold of its legs. How strange they were, like ridged sticks of polished wood. In a moment they were off, sailing over the roof-tops and on toward adventure. Earlier, when Sarah dressed her for bed (Edith was too itchy from the plastic cooties and all), Boopsie used her inherent talents, causing the maternal vampirina to dress her in two pair of winter-weight, fleece snuggies, not to mention a flannel 'one-sie' underneath, so she was quite prepared for the flight.

And the elfin-folk (see last night) over at Laurel Hill knew that she was coming.

Now the mom who feeds her kid shitty pizza was supposed to be in this, but she had cramps  and didn't do anything worth writing about anyway, so let her wait til some other time.


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