THE SHIRELLES - Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow [ 60's Video In NEW STER...

MARIANNE and PETER SIT ON AN ELEPHANT

He stared out at the sea. You know how it can be real flat and calm in the wintertime? Well, that's how it was. A little bit of moonlight sparkled on the surface. Peter said - Why did you bring me here?..... Marianne said - I like this place. I come here all the time. I was here when 'she' was new.... Peter said - You know I've never seen a live elephant. Only saw woodcuts once or twice. Are they all this big?..... Marianne laughed - No, this is a building. This is fifty five feet high. I mean where we're standing is fifty five feet. Real elephants are maybe twelve feet tall, perhaps a little more...... Peter said - And I'm guessing they don't have a window where their ass is?.... That, they do not - she said.  {if you want to see where they are and missed our last post, scroll down and see the video}... 



They stood that way for a while. The street, down below was quiet.... Maybe a car a minute went by. That's all. The sound of the tires blended with the surf. Peter studied the water and said - It gets real cold down there. At first I screamed. When they sealed me in, I mean. It was that, or the block. No, really. There was a headsman and everything. Two others like me were already so dispatched..... He picked up the last head and shoved it in my face and I know the eyes still saw me. Blood from the shredded neck splashed down on my knees. They had me all trussed up. I couldn't move. You know vampire hunters have that special rope with threads of lead mixed in. We can't pass through lead..... How well I know - whispered Marianne. {for her story google MARIANNE IN BRITCHES by Billy Kravitz and scroll around} ... I cried. I didn't answer. Not fast enough anyway. They beat me with lead truncheons. Cracked some ribs. I coughed up blood. That made them berserk. They groaned. They screamed - Whose is it?! Whose is it?! ..... And I didn't kill anybody. You know that. None of us did. Elferinos and Elferinas hardly ever do. Then they said they'd burn me. Had a spit set up and everything... A regular Inquisitional fun-fair. Not that they were part of that. I don't know who they were. People did those things for entertainment. Wouldn't mess with full vampirinos. Vampirinas too, for that matter. But younger ones, like us were fair game.  Crown wouldn't let 'em bother no heretics and Jews were rare 'round where I come from. Even so, crown didn't want them burned up either, 'cinders can't pay no taxes.... I didn't say anything. I couldn't. And I wasn't new. Been night-folk since (counts on his fingers)... well, Leonardo was dead already. So was Michaelangelo. But I kept to the woods. Discrete and safe. Tried to hook up with lesser nobility. Big ones draw too much attention. Nice little manor house... snug stables.... dark root cellar.... perfect. Grant a few wishes. Mostly blood gifts to heal disease. Add some cachet to the dining hall. People traveled far to see me.  Rich folk don't care. You know that. But some of the 'others' can be so self-limiting. And then when the peasants come with pitch-forks and torches even the rich folks make like they don't know us.  'Cause pitch-forks stab through their guts too and they know it.... 



I'll tell you my story too some night. Not much different from yours. I was in the real belly of the beast, though - she said.... Peter didn't press. Night-folk, even those without much telepathy 'feel' such things. Besides, Peter still had his own tales to tell. That's why she brought him here... quiet... private. And there's something about the water, even if you were once buried in it.



He looked around at the nice, houses, shops, restaurants and said - I would like to see what it's like inside. I saw but one room at the retired teacher's house and that was very, very nice. They use it just for clothes? They use it just for a laundry?..... Yes - she said. Just for that. Maybe they store some things, but mostly just for that...... He shook his head - And I thought those manor houses were something. Then he went on - I screamed when they threw me in the box. Hardly had time to curl up and collect myself. When they welded it shut I felt the heat. Tried to squeeze down as much as I could. Prayed and prayed and prayed. Don't ask me what. I guess I learned them in the Veneto (northeast corner of Italy around Venice) . Felt them hoist the leaden chest up into a cart. If what they did to me was what they did to the others, they must have driven out onto the sand flats off Mount San Michel. Do you know how it gets there when the tide goes out?..... Marianne nodded. She did know.... He went on - And then later, when the tide came in, some fisherman pulled me up into a boat and took me out. I screamed. I pleaded for them to free me. But they never responded to anything I said. They take vows, you know, not to talk to us, not to address us. We sailed for a while. Then they dropped me in. I was so scared. It felt so final..... She knew.... I think my heart burst. I really do. Children can suffer such things. Vampire children too. We just pull through. But hitting the bottom of the sea was like .... (he couldn't talk)..... She put her arms around him and waited, just like a good, big sister. Though he didn't say anything else, not that night.



After a time they softly jumped down, wandered through a street or two (he wanted to see the houses). Then they flew back to Atlantic City and crept down under the Boardwalk, where they preserved the lives of three or four tubercular homeless people.



Before returning to the retired teacher's house on Long Beach Island, they stopped at an all night gourmet bakery (yeah, Atlantic City hotel/casinos have them too) and got a white glossy box of assorted cookies tied up with string for the limousine driver. Half way back, while flying over some woods, Peter dropped them. String was cutting into his finger. You know how it is.



But the squirrels and wood sprites down below had a feast.



And we picked The Sherelles Song tonight, because vampires seem to like it, Fifty some years isn't long to night-folk, but in that time it's become like a standard with them.... "Will you still love me tomorrow... When the night meets the morning sun?'...........



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OK, cue the music.