Sunday, March 22, 2015


Annie has a purpose. She doesn't know it, but she suspects. I suppose scope and direction of her purpose means little to her. She senses power and understanding and knowledge. And she was meant to live surrounded by night-people, for who better to guard and understand a little girl like her?

I cannot tell you exactly what she is, though I can furnish an illustration. In ages gone by, people thought stars were tiny, pinpoint holes punched in the Heavenly Dome so fleeting beams of Divine Light might pass through. Perhaps she is one of those? Granted, her actions have not always been what one might call 'Godly,' but that happens. The finest hounds grow from unruly puppies. The being we call 'Papa' was attracted to her for a reason.

Some believe she came through more than seventy years ago. The tainted vessel, known as Hitler, knew. That's why he slaughtered so many children. Well, it was one of the reasons. Whether she was, at that time, a little Polish Catholic girl, or a German Jewish girl, or a Roma (Gypsy) or any other victim is not known. But she was there and they destroyed her. Now she's back.

Basically, she's just a child. Annie asks - What ever happened to the lady who gave her kid shitty pizza? ... Sarah says she doesn't know, but can find out. ... Annie goes - And the little girl too? The one who ate the shitty pizza?... Sarah nods... the little girl too... Annie goes - Shitty pizza, shitty pizza, shitty pizza. I like the way that sounds. There ought to be a 'shitty pizza' song..... Annie smiles. Sarah smiles too. They sit downstairs in the basement, playing Chutes and Ladders with the little ghost boy, the polio victim. He can't manipulate, or interact with physical matter, at least not consistently, so Annie takes a turn on his behalf. He likes that. Look, he still wants to win.

Edith keeps Jonathon company. They sit in his music-room-chapel. He reads treatises from La Ciencia Vampirismo.  She likes the way the ancient lambskin pages smell. The colors are still quite vivid. Handwritten old books are like that. In a sense, it's a bit of a compendium... lots of Kabbalistic texts distilled and slightly altered for vampire eyes and other paths toward the divine too. Night-folk experience so much. To be truthful, La Ciencia Vampirismo is still being written. Literate observation never stops.

Jonathon pauses, turns toward his old, mortal friend. Edith comments on the material in her own, homespun way.... The 'correction of the soul.'... That's what it's all about. And apparently Annie has a part to play.

The parchesi game down in the basement (actually a best of five series) comes to an end. Sarah and Annie let the little ghost boy win. He likes that. After they put the game away, Sarah takes Annie for pancakes. Their favorite Waffle House is open all night, so that's not a problem. Now, little girls out for pancakes in the wee, small hours of the morning might be a bit unusual, but 'vampire eyes' take care of everything. So they sit there, among twenty-somethings coming down from a night at the clubs. Sarah likes the hot tea.

Annie wants a few scratch-off lottery tickets on the way out. Sarah says they don't need it. Money, in their world isn't a problem. Annie begs. She insists. Sarah pays for three five dollar, twelve ways to win games. Needless to say, each one is a winner. Seven hundred and fifty dollars for a strange, more than enchanted little girl.

But on the way home through the dark, not quite winter, not quite spring streets, she gives it all to a part time homeless woman with nine fingers.... She goes - Hey, lady, you need any money?..... Woman goes - Sure. When don't I need money?.... Annie gives it to her, six hundreds and three fifties from the three, two hundred and fifty dollar wins.... The woman looks at Sarah... Sarah goes - It's all right. Take it.... The woman does. They walk away.

Annie goes - I like that. It felt good.... Sarah straightens the little girl's scarf and says - I know.

And they walk on toward the house.

Annie's changed... Not 'Little Bastid Annie' anymore...

And she's only beginning....

Edith silently opens the door and lets them in. Then she just as silently locks it.

Thus ends the night, as the first grey wash of dawn plays over the bricks.

< more next time>


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