A VAMPIRE REMEMBERS A GRUESOME VISIT TO A RUSTIC COURT... 9/30/15

Our vampire hero dreams. Sometimes he sees visions of those who should die. But sometimes he just dreams. He lies there intertwined with his consort, Sarah, in their (occasionally) rose petal strewn bower and he relives things. Jonathon ben Macabi, also known as Tomas de Macabea (both names, totally, his) remembers everything. Vampires are like that. They can pretend to forget, but sometimes the forget to pretend.

He's in the high, granite redoubt of an Ossetian king, in lands once held by the mighty Khazars. The ruler, a mustachioed brigand from The Caucus, given to high, black boots and proto-Cossack garb, knew his guest was 'special' though he wasn't sure how. And Jonathon wasn't about to destroy the mystery. One courtier thought him to be the once and future King David. He has that look, you know. Another said he came from a lost remnant of the Magi, far to the east of The Persian Empire, for he saw him levitate toward the rafters one evening when he dozed off in the mead hall. Ossetian 'long song' epics can be quite dull when compared to the bards of Al Andalus.

But what came next changed all that.... Justice Night in the Hall of The Mountain King. A HUGE entertainment in those parts. First some functionary, dressed like the Munchkin coroner from The Wizard of Oz, purposefully strides to the middle of the flagstone expanse, produces an ass-hide scroll, opens it and announces the proceedings.... Two routine skull smashings... a death-dance and a 'stone jacket.' ... The skull smashings were 'meh.'... They manhandle a trembling, skinny man, who I figured was a shepherd, loose, pajama-like garb, some kind of small pillbox hat, sheep stink, sheep stink, more sheep stink. The Munchkin coroner reads some more. The man begs and begs. The invited, big wigs, sip their intoxicants. I suppose it was some type of mead, or horse urine. Graces fall off sharply east of Byzantium, save for civilized Muslim territories to the south. They picked at grilled lamb chops too. The rustic 'aristos' I mean....

Then they make the victim lie down on the cold, hard floor. Some lackey hustles out bearing a stout, wooden box, minus a lid, plus one side is missing too. They lift the incoherent victim's head and position it inside the box, lidless side up. The Munchkin coroner looks toward the 'king.' The king nods. The functionary beckons and a husky warrior, stripped to the waist, comes in with what looks like a big, rough, stone cannon ball hugged to his chest. It could weigh a hundred pounds in your measurement system. The Munchkin coroner functionary nods. The big warrior moves closer, holding the death-stone right over the poor man's face. He shrieks and tries to get up. Some plain generic 'palace boys' jump on he-who-is-to-die and pin him down. The functionary kneels and whispers something. Jonathon asks the king what he said. The ruler leans in and responds - My poo-bah (not a grand poo-bah, but a poo-bah none the less) has told the wretched beast that if he fears the skull smasher, we can always slow roast him in a cramped, closed, copper oven.... Jonathon exhales... Vampires, especially 'noble' (moral) vampires are paragons next to what so called, God fearing humans do. So the man grew silent. The king clapped and the stone fell, causing a rather large splash of blood and bone and tissue. They removed the box, sliding it back from the fatty gore. The head was destroyed. All that remained was a slushy mess.... For a few heartbeats there was silence. Then the warrior struggled to pick up the now stained and slippery stone and carry it away. Slaves crawled out on their hands and knees to clean up the remains, as others dragged the body off for to be burned.

Then court musicians struck up a lively tune on their drums, flutes and bells. Servants groaned under huge planks of sizzling meat. Their 'betters' continued eating. The king blessed all with smiles and waves, while behind the scenes they got ready for the next sad performer.......

<we'll share more of Jonathon's dream later this evening>

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JUVENILE KILLERS (and their parents) BECOME LAB ANIMALS... 9/24/15

Doctor Franklin sat across from a petulant Ca-Ca and explained - No, we can't get you in to see the Pope. Stop it. Stop it. And Don't give me that look. This isn't Star Gate whatever you call it. And if you kick me one more time, I'll have you locked up in the worst 'baby jail' on earth. You ever see Midnight Express?..... Ca-Ca goes - Yeah?.... He continues - Like that, but minus all the amenities....... What's 'amenities'? - You ugly old man you....... He studied her for a few seconds, then threw back his head and yelled - Enema girl! Get the enema girl!! Where's the God damned enema girl, you sons a bitches? She wants another one!!!......No! No! No! -screams Ca-Ca, as she climbs on top of the piano (they're in the rather opulent 'residence').... Doctor Franklin catches his breath and says - You are not here because we like you. We gave you a choice, avoid incarceration, plus I don't know how many law suits, in return for allowing us to study you. And by 'you' I mean Timothy and your parents too. The others have been quite amenable ..... Aide runs in panting and says - She's cleaning her fingernails. The enema girl's cleaning her fingernails. Give her two minutes..... Franklin nods, turns to the naughty, little killer and goes - Well, what will it be, naughty, little killer girl? And get off my piano.....

Ca-Ca climbed down.... The scientifically preserved patriot said - We only did those enemas to get DNA samples. Colonic walls have extremely ripe cells. And I assume after your ordeal, you know what we mean by 'colonic walls?'..... Can I see the vampires? - she said..... No - went the Doctor.... But, I seen,  Dr.Luna. She's a vampire. She TOLD me! - said Ca-Ca..... Well, then you've seen one. So what are you bothering me for?... She sighs and says - This isn't gonna be fun, is it?...The Old Reprobate simply shakes his head- Not for you. And not so much for Timothy, though he's a lot less guilty than you are. Both sets of parents are a different matter. Jury's still out on them. But your mother's gonna lose weight whether she likes it or not. We also want to study metabolism in the morbidly obese...... She once lost a Slim Jim under part of her belly for a long time. Gas man found it...... How'd the gas man find it? - asked Franklin... He was lookin' for a wrench - said Ca-Ca, as she mimed using one..... Doctor Franklin just shrugged and poured himself a cup of tea.

A couple of large, white-coated attendants entered and motioned for Ca-Ca to follow... Do I have to go with them? - she asked..... Yes, you do. Blood tests and brain sonograms - he said..... She exhaled and fell in behind the crisply attired twosome. The Doctor watched, as she bowed her head and walked out... Then he rang a bell. Soon a staffer silently entered with a lacquered tray, bearing a steaming bowl of savory Hunan fare. He unwrapped the ebony chopsticks and began to eat. Then he tapped a button. The Impressionist painting above the mantelpiece flickered to life, becoming a flat screen TV. Mustn't miss The Andy Griffith Show, you know. He even whistled the song as it came on... Aunt Bea was a particular favorite... rather like he'd look (he felt) had he been born a woman.

In other parts of the facility, strange creatures and beings keened and sang their night songs. An 'almost' giant squid undulated through limitless iridescent shades in its tank. And the merfolk formed a tails-in circle and slept. A Jersey Pines 'witchy-man' hung suspended in the throbbing sound-web of the Grand Armonica, as the vibrating, harmonic frequencies scanned his body (and made changes).

This is where they did the 'science' that other scientists would not do. This is where they did the 'Philadelphia Experiment' during World War 2. This is where the people dance with ghosts....

The 'Anti-Enchantment Bureau,' grown from The Junto, still survives today...

<more next time>

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A BUM GETS INVITED TO DINNER... 9/23/15

This is Jonathon ben Macabi. I know about the Ca-Ca and Timothy story arc. It's true! It's true! They're ALL true, except maybe that thing about the giant, human-like Edwardian dogs. Blame that on some old cheese. Edith left it in the refrigerator and Billy, the one who blogs for us, ate it. The refrigerator gets cleaned more often now.

The thing is all the Ca-Ca and Esther's murder events took place now, in August and September. He moved it up to November to confuse people, because some of their neighbors in South Philadelphia knew what happened. Plus the bum from the alley, who saw it all, ran around telling everybody. So, him, they had to kill. Doctor Franklin had one of his sleek, black, electric soundless cars pluck him off the street one night. The cops were in on it. They wanted to end this thing too. You see, Doctor Franklin and his people wanted to study the children. They wanted to analyze Timothy and Ca-Ca to see what makes kids kill other kids. And now they could. Better even, because they had the parents too.

Many of you know how large the underground, scientific installation is. The 'Anti-Enchantment-Bureau' spreads out for maybe eight acres and don't forget there're multiple levels. It all grew out of The Junto, an intellectual exploration society founded by Doctor Franklin in the seventeen twenties. And for the umpteenth time, no, he is not a vampire. The old patriot keeps ticking via deep and copious harmonic treatments on his Grand Armonica.

What was I talking about?... Oh, yes... the 'bum.' I hate that word. He was poor and homeless. He had issues. And now he's dead. They fed him to the merfolk. Doctor Franklin has a little colony (maybe four or five) occupying the big, maze-like tank once home to a baby Godzilla. But they don't do well all by themselves and the sad, little thing didn't make it. The staff dismembered it, sending tissue, bone and organ samples to biologists the world over. Still haven't figured out how a more or less dinosaur managed to survive so long and grow so large. Needless to say, the baby wasn't that big yet, since it was new-born, picked up off the Falklands. God knows where the parents are. Not to mention the siblings.

But they disinfected the tanks, put in some deep ocean décor and now the merfolk swim there. The Bureau doesn't own them. They're not slaves. Most stay for about six months and are then returned to a colony living nearby in the Gulf Stream right off Cape May. The various colonies send representatives to The Great Senate, somewhere in the Mid Atlantic Ridge. Pacific merfolk have their own thing and the ones in the Indian Ocean have quite an august empire with a powerful nobility and everything.

All merfolk eat human flesh, you know. They don't view it as cannibalistic, since the two strains are so different. And they eat it raw, right off the bone. Just stripped him down and threw the poor bum in. First he tread water for a bit. Lights were low to simulate evening. Then they began to drift back, the merfolk I mean, circling around him and brushing up against his skin. He quivered. He giggled. Soon they grew bolder, pinching him and poking with their fingers. They scratches his skin, the better to smell the blood. He tried to break away, but he couldn't. They were all around him, smiling and barring the way. One dove under, biting a little gobbet of flesh off his ass. Blood dripped from her mouth, as she broke the surface. The others laughed and joined in. The man screamed, as Bureau Personnel peered through the plexiglass and watched. Soon he looked just like a turkey after Thanksgiving dinner.

The Bureau, it seems, has a dark side....

<more next time>

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AN IMPORTANT DECISION OVER BURGERS & FRIED CHEESE STICKS AT DENNY'S ... 9/22/15

The next night they all met at a Denny's. Not in the city. This one was in Jersey. Ca-Ca was there with her father. Her mother didn't go. Timothy was there with both his parents. Some detective guy was there. He arrived first. And (get ready for this) Jonathon ben Macabi's consort, the vampirina, Sarah was with him. Regular readers know that our Philadelphia vampires and other night-folk have friends on the force. Jonathon could have come, but they felt a female would be less threatening.

They hostess, herself the daughter of an old Jersey Pine Barrens family, smiled and led them back to a secluded booth, as they came in. At first no one said a word. A waitress brought iced tea and everybody just looked at each other. Then the detective guy began. In a quiet voice, almost a whisper, he began - Look, they committed murder. But they're juveniles and eight years or less in a juvvy hall won't bring Esther back. It won't change a thing. Not for the 'better' anyway. Jail, any kind of jail is a deep, hard personal invasion. Ex Cons say it's like a rape. Can I say that in front of them? (he meant the kids). Timothy's father nodded, so he went on. But there's something else we can do. He gestured toward Sarah and said - The lady with me is a friend. We've worked with her and her people before.... Ca-Ca's father cleared his throat and said - Excuse me, but who the hell are are her people?.... Let me talk first - said the detective guy.... Sarah looked down and sipped her iced tea. As you know, vampires can tolerate clear, or mostly clear, liquids.... And he continued - Some scientists would like to study them. Your kids, I mean. Nothing invasive. Maybe some blood tests, or cheek swabs... The waitress silently put down platters of fried cheese sticks and little hamburgers.... Ca-Ca took two of the burgers. .... Timothy looks scared. His mother said - You mean give him up? Just let you take him?.... Well, what do you think the courts will do? - said the cop.... Nobody said a word.... Ca-Ca's father began to study Sarah. She knew, but made like she didn't. He said - Excuse me, Miss, who are you? Why are you here? If you don't want to talk about 'your people' that's all right, but who are you?... Sarah thought for a few moments before beginning. Then she said - My name is Sarah de Macabea (She and Jonathon were married, after all and whether they used 'de Macabea' or 'ben Macabi' was immaterial) and I represent a group heavily involved in the sciences. We'd like to find out what makes people kill.... And my son and that girl will be guinea pigs?... It won't be like that. And you don't have to give them up. You can come too - Sarah said..... What? Just pick up and go? - asked Ca-Ca's father. ..... Yes - she said. You'd disappear. Lock your door and walk away. Believe me. Your lives would not be hard at all.... The cop added - You think a lot of people know about the case? No, they don't. A few seconds on the radio or TV? People forget real fast. And if anyone does ask, all we have to say is the case is closed. Kids pleaded guilty and are now serving time in a juvenile facility at an undisclosed location. Families moved away to start new lives..... Like witness protection? - asked Tim's father..... A little - said the cop.... Have you ever done this before? - said his mother..... He looked at Sarah, the cop, I mean, and she said - At times. Scientific inquiry solves so much more than jail cells.... Where would you keep us? - said Ca-Ca's father..... Not far - said Sarah. We have a place, an off-shoot of a much larger facility we have in town about an hour from here, in The Jersey Pine Barrens. Most find the experience very interesting. You'd see things few other humans ever see...... Why'd you say 'humans' and not people? - asked Tim's father (to the cop) Is she an alien?..... No, nothing like that - said the cop.... Excuse me, but what about Esther's mother? What will you tell her? - asked Timothy..... The cop considered before responding. Then he said - Well, son, there's somebody with her right now. Esther's mother is very sad. you understand that?..... Tim nodded. The cop went on - She knows what we're telling you all right now. She wants her daughter's death to mean something. She hopes you'll cooperate and let us learn from you. She'll tell people you both pleaded guilty and are now in a juvenile detention center out of state.... Tim's mother wondered - What will her life be like?.... The cop looked at Sarah, who said - She'll be given a large sum of money, seven point five million dollars. I can't speak for her emotional life, but on the material side, things will be all right. Maybe even a job, or avocation that might help fill the void.

So what will it be? - asked the cop. And I hate to put it to you this way, but 'baby jail' and there ain't nothing babyish about it, or what she said?..... Ca-Ca's father was a shrewd guy. He said - I'll take her deal.... Sarah said - And Timothy's family?.... Tim's father nodded too. No one brought up Ca-Ca's mother. They just assumed she'd go along.

Then they ate the food. Sarah didn't. She just drank more ice tea. And the 'hostess' girl from the Pines, who wasn't really a restaurant hostess, made a few discrete phone calls to put things in motion.

Doctor Franklin and his exotic assistant, Luna, watching it all on his lap top, approximately twenty miles to the east, was quite happy.

Good experimental subjects were so hard to come by...

<to be continued>

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A SECRET VISIT BY A FRIEND ... 9/19/15

They checked the security cameras at the cemetery and turned the video over to the police... not the Delaware county police, where the grave is, but the Philadelphia police. Apparently, killers often show up at funerals, or turn up soon after. The detectives got a good look at Mike and Ca-Ca and Timothy. Everything looked innocent. Maybe they were cousins, or neighbors? That happens.

But one detective was somebody's relative.... Timothy's uncle, I think. And he took his work laptop home one night. Brought it to his sister's house. Timothy was upstairs playing video games when he came in and didn't notice. But when his mother said - Timothy, can you come down here?.. he knew something wasn't right. So he stopped shooting aliens, turned off the game and quietly went down the steps. His father was in the hospital with kidney stones. Nothing life threatening, just excruciating. But at least he wasn't there.

His uncle said - Hey, Tim... His mother just nodded and swallowed... Tim mumbled 'hi' and sat down... not on the sofa with the adults, but on an easy chair in the  corner. Nobody said anything at first. His uncle opened a laptop and tapped something out. He looked at his mother. She just shook her head a little and smiled... but it wasn't a happy smile. Then his uncle went over and sat on the ottoman in front of the chair. He turned the laptop around so his nephew could see it and said - Timmy, can you tell me who these people are?... Tim said - I'll try... but he looked at the screen and said nothing.... His mother sniffed and dabbed at her eyes.... Then his uncle said - Come on, Timmy, what do you see?.... Tim almost whispered. He said - Two kids. I guess two kids. One's a girl. And they got some guy with them.... Who's the guy? - asked his uncle.... Tim shrugged.... Who's the girl? - said the detective.... More shrugs.... Then he asked - What are they doing?... They're looking at Esther's grave - said the boy... His uncle sighed and turned toward his sister. She held her arms out to the boy, who ran to her and began to cry.

The uncle-detective said - Look, this is all informal, just between us and off the record. I don't know everything, 'cause it's not my case. I'm not even supposed to bring this laptop home... His sister whispered - I know... Then he said - They're gonna come by in a day, or so. Probably two of them. They always go in two's. Get a lawyer. I got a list...Not a lot, but three or four names. Good guys. They'll help you... and they won't take much... His sister nodded and took the paper. She looked at it and said - What if we can't pay?.... I'll pay - he said. But just don't say anything. You know I can lose my pension over this?... Timmy, why'd you do it?.... I didn't do it - sobbed the boy. Ca-Ca did it. I j-j-just helped.

Should I tell John? - said Timothy's mother.... No, wait till he gets out of the hospital. Let him rest a couple days - said the uncle. If you need me, call the other cell phone. Not the one I use for work. You know the number.... She nodded. Then he got up, lightly put his hand on Timothy's head and left.

Timothy and his mother sat there. She hugged him. She protected him. He fell asleep. She cried.

(more next time)

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THE JUVENILE KILLERS PAY THEIR RESPECTS AT ESTHER'S GRAVE... 9/17/15

Timothy and Ca-Ca went out to Esther's grave. They could have gone by bus, not one route but a series of routes, maybe three. But Mike took them. He drove out to Delaware County in his car, a nineteen ninety-three Toyota Camri... the dark green one... the one you see coming and going. It runs. He calls it a classic. All his homies say it's a hoop-tee. But he keeps it clean and polished and bought this kit to fix the splits in the vinyl on the dashboard, so it looks alright.

As they left the city and continued into the modest, close-in suburbs, Ca-Ca said - How'd you find this place?..... From some 'app.' They got an app, 'Visit The Dead,' it's called. You put in the age, year of death, address while living and some other crap and they tell ya - he said.... Timothy goes - This feels creepy.... Mike goes - It is creepy. But I read this thing that says the dead forgive everybody, 'cause they know the reasons for everything and like they're living in paradise, so what the hell do they care?..... Ca-Ca - You think Esther's in paradise?....Mike thinks for a moment and goes - Yeah...... Timothy hiccups and sighs.

They turn off into some residential 'township'...small, brick, colonial houses, scattered, little strip malls with chain drug stores and fast food joints, maybe a convenience store or a dry cleaner and then there on the left is the cemetery, an open, more or less flat green field with scattered bushes, isolated trees and a multitude of granite monuments marking the subterranean 'homes' of the dead. The late afternoon, November sun bathes everything in a crisp, clear orange light. Mike parks the car in on a little, gravel lot. They get out. He leads the two contrite killers down a winding path. Then he says - Right here. This is it.... How do you know? - says Ca-Ca. There ain't no tombstone..... Timothy whispers - They don't call 'em tombstones no more. They call 'em monuments...... OK, 'monuments' - says Ca-Ca. But how do you know this is the place?.... Mike says - I know. They give you a print out on the computer. Tell ya who's next door and all around her. See Frances Davis over there?..... They squint into the sun and look.... He continues - Well, right by her is Esther..... The two killers look down at a dry, tan rectangle of dirt.... Ca-Ca goes - How come she ain't got no grass?... Mike goes - Jesus Christ, Ca-Ca, how long you think it's been since you two killed her?!... They just stand there with their hands shoved in their pockets, lookin' at the ground.... Timothy says - Should we say something?... Mike goes - What do you think?.... Tim shrugs.... Ca-Ca says - Sorry, Esther... Tim goes - Yeah, sorry Esther. I hope you're happy with God and all.... Something makes Ca-Ca grin and she says - I hope you don't have to fart all the time anymore...... Tim reverently nods. Then they just stand there some more, only now their hands ain't shoved down their pockets....Mike goes - Ask her to forgive you..... Ca-Ca, in a quiet voice, says - I did.... Did she - asks Mike?..... Ca-Ca just shrugs..... Tim says - What kind a box she in? I read even the steel-metal ones dent and cave in after a few days.... Mike goes - Come on, you know her mother. What kind you think?... Ca-Ca looks up and says - Probably a cheap one?... Mike goes - Yeah, a cheap one....

He leads them back along the narrow, winding path. They get in the car and leave.

But here and there among the graves we notice eight foot tall, seemingly 'ornamental, wrought iron poles with leaves around them and other appropriate decorations. The setting sun glints off small, glass lenses at the top... security cameras put up to catch vandals.

Maybe next time they check 'em they'll find something else...

<more next time>

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ONE SPOUSE GOTTA GO WITH THE OTHER WHEN SKIN DOCTOR BUST THEY BOILS... 9/15/15

Ca-Ca's kitchen... The next evening. Four people sit 'round the table under the old 'copper' pull down light fixture -- Ca-Ca, Timothy, Ca-Ca's cousin Mike and an Amy Winehouse wannabe named Cheyanne.

They all talk at once....

Ca-Ca- SHUT UP you asshole idiots and let her talk!

Cheyanne - (cracks her gum) Alls I wanna say is we gotta talk money. I'll do it. I got a drivers license. I ain't got no record and I do not currently do drugs.

Mike - And she wants to go to California...

Cheyanne - That's just part of it, you numb nuts son of a bitch!

Mike - She'll dump you in a minute and run away with the money. You'll be cryin' outside a Fat Burger. You wanna do something smart? Kill her too.

Cheyanne - Why is he in here. Why is he even in here? You know I wanna go to California. I'm gonna be a singer...

Mike - Or give hand jobs...

The two ten year olds snicker.

Ca-Ca - Can't we all just get along?!

They get quiet.

Ca-Ca - What I keep thinkin' is if Mike comes, like as our big brother, he brings his share of the money too. Then we have it all...

Mike - You won't have it 'all.'

Ca-Ca - I don't mean like that. I mean we'll have it all together. Thirty six thousand dollars... all of it in one place.

Cheyanne - Yeah, but he got a record...

They hear a noise in the alley out back.

Cheyanne - What time your parents get home?

Ca-Ca - Not for a while. They gotta bust all the boils in her fat creases...

Mike - And your dad puts up with that?

Ca-Ca - What do you mean?! YES he puts up with it.  They got her naked on a big table, under a big light. He HAS to be there. She's his wife, you dumb shit. And she's MY mother!!

Cheyanne - Won't you miss her? I mean like if we run away.

Ca-Ca doesn't say anything. She thinks for a couple heartbeats and nods.

Timothy - (clears his throat) I think we're gonna need more money. You know how much gas costs? You know how much cheap motels cost? And bed bug stuff? And forty chicken nuggets cost ten dollars.

Nobody says anything...

Timothy - We're gonna spend at least one hundred dollars a day, not counting Tylenol and cold pills and sneakers and jeans and underwear and stuff for her period and deodorant and...

Ca-Ca - Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! We don't just drive around. And she's not gone to California. How the hell does she think we can afford California?! We find a little town up in the mountains and ...

Mike - And What? Buy a cabin? You know how much cabins cost? Jesus Christ! Don't you ever wastch HGTV?!?!

Timothy - This isn't gonna work. We're not gone no where. They're gonna catch us and that's it... And now SHE knows too and either we kill her or I don't know what we're gonna do....

Cheyanne - Nobody gotta kill me. My neighbor, Bob, killed his wife and stuffed her in an old water boiler. Put it out with the trash. Nothing happened and that was fifteen months ago. Said she left him for a dealer in Atlantic City....

Timothy - And how do you know this?

Cheyanne - (shrugs and cracks her gum)

Mike breaks out in a fit of laughing.....

Cheyanne - Yeah, so now maybe Bob gotta kill all a youse!

Mike - (still laughing) Only if we let you out a here. Only if we let you leave.

Ca-Ca - He stuffed her in an old water boiler?

Cheyanne - Yeah, why?

Ca-Ca - Nothin' (looks at Timothy) Maybe we should talk to Bob?...

<cut to black... continued next time>

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GUANO IS BAT SHIT ... 9/14/15

a rest from Ca-Ca and Timothy and all that #HomicideWanderers

Some chain gangs are so deep in the woods they can do all kinds a stuff.... chop off feet and jam red hot metal cups over stumps and make bastids walk around on 'em. Shove a prisoner's arm down the wood chipper and serve it up as 'hash' come chow time.

Camp McHattie one a the worst. Commandant called 'Big Daddy.' And he ride around on a medieval looking dove grey Percheron stallion named Zeke, who the only horse I ever seed with his teeth filed down into huge sharp yellow points. 

An' then they got Punkin Head. Bought him off a ship captain out a French Guyana. Tried to cut his head off down Devil's Island. But a big bolt a lightning hit the blade just 'fore it break the skin, causin; it to go in a little crazy-like. Head fly off (most of it) but little bit a brain stem left hangin' out a the neck, all throbbin' and oozin'. Windpipe all suckin' air an' blowin' bubbles.

Camp saw-bones start hollerin'. He say - Don't put him in a box! Don't put him in a box! ... Cause they had a nice empty, corrugated cardboard box used a hold cans of Spaghetti-O's all ready for him. So medic guy goes to work. Can't stitch on the head, 'cause it dead. But he can pull the skin up tight 'round the edge a that windpipe an' staple it down real tight. He can do that... cover up throbbin' brain stem and waa-laa... headless bastid keep right on tickin'. All you need is a brain stem to keep your systems runnin'. Learned that on a box a Lucky Charms. Guy was blind and deaf and think like a rattle snake but he still run around, wave his hands like a sissy gal and piss hisself all over the place. Take food through his pie-hole too. Medic guy cleaned that up real good.

Big Daddy, the commandant guy put him in a room. Put naughty prisoner in wit' him. Lock it up an' let 'em get to know each other. Punkin Head start grabbin' and feelin' and humpin'. He hump everything. It like a religion wit' him. Then he stick his fingers in wherever he can... gouges eyes... do all that. He got like a routine. He got like an act. No punkin on top a his neck when he in there, just a round, smooth mound wit' two holes in it... one 'cause he gotta breeve and one 'cause he gotta eat.

Sometimes prisoner die. Sometimes they don't. But they always crazy. Punkin Head wear a punkin head on his neck when he run around outside. He got a lot a punkin heads. One like Bette Boop, but with little hole on her lips to let air in. One like evil jack-o-lantern. An' one like Michael Jackson if he had a big, blowed up orange head. Got a nice, black, shiny wig and everything. One like Elizabeth Taylor, but she don't look so good.

Prisoners hate Punkin Head.

Worse than naughty guys get 'caramelized'. Slide 'em in a tube shaped, iron oven... real tight, like a mummy box. Got holes all over for the fire to get in. Commandant tricky. Sometimes he not light it up for days. Prisoner shake. Prisoner jump. Prisoner scream, 'cause he think fire gonna come in. Nobody like when fire come in. Some prisoner die real fast. But most die when lining of de lung get all burned up. They don't die right away. Take a few minute for brain to suffocate. That how it is.

We dig guano out a caves at Camp McHattie. We dig bat shit out a hot fetid caves. I forgot to tell you that. I been bit by a bat, so I'm a little batty.

Sometime we find old skeletons in the bat shit. Figure they prisoners what died. Tomorrow my birthday. I would like to get a set a golf clubs so I can give the big heavy one to a fella and have him bash my brains out. I would like that very much.

Commandant 'd get so mad.

tee hee hee hee hee...

<back to homicide wanderers next time>

 

A FAKE BIG SISTER MIGHT BE JUST AS GOOD AS A FAKE MOM ... 9/12/15

Timothy and Ca-Ca sit in a bus stop shelter. There's a little bit of snow and ice on the ground. Light traffic. Few people. Grat-white sky.

Tim watches the vapor come out of his mouth. Ca-Ca thinks. She says - There's gotta be like twenty kids who look like us. We're not special. I went in the cloak room and looked at all the coats. You know how many girls got pink coats like mine? And the boys are even worse. So what if that stinkin' shit for brains saw us. He eats Doritos with chopsticks. I saw him. And they weren't even chopsticks. I think they were long, skinny pencils, like advertising for some company. He smiled at me and his teeth were all yellow-orange.

Tim goes - Why are you talking so fast? She goes - No I'm not. I'm not talking fast. Shut up. I am not.... He goes back to watching the vapor rise from his lips.

A cop car rolls by. Ca-Ca freezes, but nothing happens... Four heartbeats later, she repeatedly bangs the back of her head against the thick plexi-glass....,. Tim looks but does nothing.... Then she stops, leans against the cloudy, scratched up barrier and says - I feel like calling the cops. I feel like telling them. I feel like taking my Sharpies and a piece of that heavy, white construction paper and makin' a card, a big f#cking card --- Dear Cops, I killed Esther. I let the life out of her with the long, sharp point of an old corroded, metal compass thing. And I let the life out of her over and over and over again.... Then I'll draw a picture. You know those flowers I always draw, the ones with the cute happy faces? Well, these'll be sad ones and they'll say 'R.I.P., Esther.'

Tim looks at her and goes - You say that, but you won't do it.

Ca-Ca goes - Yes I would. So they lock me up. I'll sit by myself and read all day...(she shrugs)... He goes - You'd go crazy in two weeks.... She goes - Fine, then I'll write my own books. You gotta be crazy to do that.... He goes - You wanna go home?.... She goes - I can't. I can't get up yet. I have to just sit here.... He nods....

After a bit Ca-Ca says - I think if they put me away, I'd wind up killin' a kid.... Tim goes - You didn't do nothing to that money, did you?... Ca-Ca goes - No, I still got it, eighteen thousand dollars... Tim asks - You still got it in that Spiderman lunch box?... She goes - Yep..... He goes - I'm thinkin'. We don't need no fake mom if we run away. How 'bout just a big brother, or a big sister? All they have to be is twenty one years old, eighteen even. I don't know. ... Ca-Ca goes - Why? You got somebody?....This time he shrugs... But he gives her a look like maybe he does.

A bus pulls up, crunching on the ice and snow. Two thickset, middle aged women get off and sit down on the bench right next to Ca-Ca and Timothy,  to wait for their connection.... After a few heartbeats our scared killers (remember, Tim helped kill Esther too) get up and hurry off....

We watch from a distance, as they slip and slide down a narrow, cobbled street lined with plain, tiny row houses, under a cold, damp, darkening sky...

<more next time>

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DISAPPEARING COSTS MONEY... 9/11/15

THE NEXT DAY-----
Ca-Ca's cousin, Mike's cellar.

She sits on the old sofa, listening to her cousin... not looking at him, but listening...

Mike - It's not easy. It's different with kids. You can't just pay a whore to make like she's your mother and go hide. People ask questions. They say - Why ain't that kid in school?.... And you can't just walk in any place and go BOOM! I'm here. They want to see your birth certificate. They want to see your records... What you did at your old school. They wanna see medical stuff, like if you got all your shots and if you ever bit anybody...

Ca-Ca - So? Homeschool... We'll say I'm homeschool...

Mike - They come to your house then. It's even worse. What are you, a moron? They talk to the mother... And if they even THINK she's a whore they send you to foster care. You know Crazy Libby from down the street?

Ca-Ca - Yeah?

Mike - Well, she was in foster care for six years. You wanna wind up like her?!

She doesn't answer....

Mike - Eighteen thousand dollars ain't gonna be enough. OK, you can live in a dump. That's alright. You can do that. But even a dump costs money. And fake moms don't cook. You're gonna have to feed her McDonalds... No, not McDonalds. Wendy's at least. Like the big sandwiches. The dinner sandwiches. She's gonna want breakfast too and potato chips and all that. Plus what are you gonna do if she starts to turn tricks, or takes drugs, or hooks up with some pimp? Not like they have an agency, or something. You gotta trust 'em and you CAN'T trust 'em.

She doesn't say a word.....

Mike - They're gonna send you to jail. I know it. Not 'jail' jail, baby jail. And what are you? Ten? They're gonna lock you up til you're twenty one years old. Even then, you might go to a mental hospital, or 'bitch' prison. You wanna get raped? You want some rancid bull-girl lovin' you up all the time?

Ca-Ca - Then I'll kill myself.

Mike - Kill yourself. Do it. Who cares? I took a chance. I asked around. People said - What are you writing a book?... And I said - Yeah, I'm writing a book.... You think they're gonna forget about that?... Lemme tell ya, they NEVER forget. I DID juvvie hall. I know.

Ca-Ca - Tim's gonna kill himself for real. I know.

Mike - Yeah? Well, good for him. Let him do it. One less bastid you gotta worry about.

They just sit there for what seems an awful long time.

Mike - You want pizza? We got pizza.

Ca-Ca - No.

Mike - You want a cold drink? Some soda?

She shakes her head.

Mike - You gonna tell Tim?

She shrugs... Mike makes like he's gonna say something, but then he exhales and stomps upstairs...

Ca-Ca just sits there.

<to be continued>

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#HomicideWanderers - Ten Year Old Murderers Are Really Quite Fragile... 9/9/15

Timothy and Ca-Ca talk in Ca-Ca's little backyard again....

It's almost dark. This time it was cold...maybe ten or fifteen days into November. They had coats and gloves and scarves. Sometimes it's fun to bundle up, sit outside and look at the clear, night sky... but not this time.

Timothy said - My uncle came over last night. He comes over all the time. We eat dinner together, 'cause he's all alone and my mother says he'll kill himself on the lid to a can or something. But this time felt different. He didn't joke around so much. We just ate...chopped steak with onions and gravy.....

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! - went Ca-Ca. Did I ask you that? He's a cop! He's a cop! What did he say? I am gonna go down in the subway and jump in front of a train. I mean it. I can't take this. Now tell me....

He made like it was natural... Like he was just tellin' stories from work. Couldn't tell all of it, 'cause it's police stuff. But he tells us things all the time. Not me maybe, but my mom and dad. Only this time he wanted me to hear too. I could tell. I knew it.

How could you tell? - said Ca-Ca.

'Cause how he looked at me. He said - We're getting close in that 'little girl' case.... You mean 'Esther?' - said my mother... He nodded. She said - Such a terrible thing.. He nodded some more. My dad just ate, but he looked different... more mean, or more nervous. I don't know. I can't tell the difference. He don't like chopped steak night. Says it's just crappy hamburger, only he has to pay more for it (in a small voice), but I like it.

Ca-Ca just sits there looking at the cement in the tiny, fenced in space. She could see it a little, 'cause of the light from the kitchen window. She wanted to say something, but she just sighed.

Timothy went on. He said - My uncle goes - We got some 'bum,' some homeless guy who saw something. Found him jimmying the lock on Rocco's newsstand down the avenue. Cops look out for Rocco, 'cause a the stroke and all...

You remember it all? - asked Ca-Ca.

Yeah, every word. How could I forget. The guy saw 'it,' Ca-Ca. He described your coat. He described me. Not as much as you. Boys' coats are more the same. Said we looked about nine or ten years old too. You know what they did? They went to the school... to all the fourth and fifth grade teachers. Showed them pictures. You know when the cops draw those pictures?... the ones that look like comic book bad guys?.

She quietly said - Yeah...

Well, they got ones of us - Tim said.

Then why didn't they arrest us? He said that? Your uncle said that? - she whispered....

No, he didn't say they were of us. Just two kids.. But they're looking and they're talking to people. They're talking to kids too. I feel like I'm gonna throw up every time I walk into that place, even the schoolyard. I feel like I'm gonna die. (silence) Are you still gonna run away?

Yep - she says

Your cousin get a whore to be the fake mom?

Nope - she says.

Can I go? Is there enough money for me?

She just looks at him...

Five heartbeats later he quietly begins to cry...

<more next time>

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MURDER KILLS MORE THAN THE 'VICTIM'..... 9/9/15

This is gonna be about Donna and her daughter, Esther and how it was for them before the murder. They had an apartment in the first floor of a converted row house. Maybe it was always a 'duplex.' They got places like that in Philadelphia, usually at the ends of blocks but not always. Esther's mother paid a guy to put bars on the windows. She asked the landlord. He said - OK, but he never does it. So she gave a guy a hundred and sixty dollars. He got four sets of bars off the windows of an old funeral parlor and jimmied 'em up so they'd fit. There was a little bit too much space on the sides, but no person could get through, 'less they wanted their head to get crushed.

When you went in, you saw the living room, with some cleaned up kitchenette unit from an old Holiday Inn along the left hand wall where Mrs. Gibbs, the landlord's mother, used to have her piano. Not a fancy one... just a big upright.. there was a little table where maybe two people could sit and eat. Between the living room - kitchen and the two bedrooms was a bathroom. Not exactly up to code. No window, or anything. Just an exhaust fan. Tiles were white, but old and dingy... not shiny, 'cause the glaze was all worn off. The old dining room was a bigger bedroom. The original kitchen was now a long narrow bedroom. You had to go through the big room to get into it. Both faced the back alley.

Donna (the mother) paid eight hundred dollars a month for the place. At night, when it was all locked up and the unmonitored alarm system (five plastic boxes...one for each window and one for the door) from the Five Below store was turned on they felt safe....shades down, curtains closed. They had a TV stand that looked like a fireplace. Esther's mother bought flameless l.e.d. candles to put in it. The little fake flames made it cozy.  She found furniture and stuff in a Big Lot store... area rugs... towels for the bathroom... bed spreads... little lamps... pictures and all. She wanted Esther to have a nice place... Bought books from the library when they had their sales.... a little off brand flat screen TV from the appliance store on the avenue. Nobody bothered them and they didn't bother anybody else.

Since it happened...since Esther was killed, Donna never went out. She goes to work...rings up sales...gives out change...eats her tuna fish sandwich and goes home. Don't take her medicine no more (blood pressure pills) 'cause she don't care. Only reason she still goes to work is to get money for a tombstone... and to pay off the funeral and all. After that, she wants to die too.

Sometimes she lays on Esther's bed. Sometimes she just stands in the doorway and looks at the room. It's real quiet in that place. Donna don't talk. Who's she gonna talk to. Some nights she eats... some nights she don't.

Looked at pictures from Atlantic City. Took Esther down there almost every week in the summertime. They rode a casino, day trip bus. Driver never charged them. Knew Donna from when they were kids. If the bus was crowded, Esther sat on her mother's lap. They'd walk the boards... maybe go down on the beach and wet their feet... sit on a bench and get some sun.. didn't cost too much for a pork roll sandwich and a root beer. Esther's mother had a little satchel... really a pocketbook for extra tops and underwear... You never knew what might happen. Sometimes Esther went on a ride, or bought a little souvenir, maybe a quarter pound of salt water taffy...That's how they lived.. before Esther died, I mean...

What? You think life is fair?

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Ca-Ca Wants To Runaway To Wildwood Or California Or Someplace Like That ...9/3/15

The cops were at Pony's grandmother's house. She came by to check on things and saw the broken cellar window. Cops let her go through the place so she could point out what was missing. When she saw the little smashed open safe she cried. The money in it was supposed to be hers one day. Now it was gone. Between that and the house, she'd have something. Now she'll have less... a lot less. The money in the safe could have been used to rehab the place. Yuppies (do they still use that word) go ape for granite and tile.... gleaming hardwoods too.

Cop told her to call her insurance company. Pony said - What? do they cover stolen money?..... Cop said they didn't. No way to prove how much.... Pony said - Then what for? Everything else is here... Then she cried.

All the neighbor women were out there holding their cheeks and sucking their teeth. The men stay inside... You know, cops and all. Some of them have records. It's better that way. Ca-Ca's mom, 'big' as she is, was out there too. She likes November. Coats hide a lot. A few of the kids were out there too. Mom's let kids skip school over anything around here... stomach aches... sore throats... good old sit com reruns on TVLand. They don't need no friggin' school. Some do...Some.

But don't go by me. I'm just a disembodied narrator. Might have been a Saturday. Maybe that's why so many kids were around... But not Ca-Ca. She was still sleepin' off her so called 'all night scary movie binge' with her cousin.

Lady Cop went around asking if anybody had security cameras that might of seen things and if they could see the video. A few did, but they lied... You know the drill up and down the streets 'round here --- Oh, it wasn't turned on... or --- Ours is just a dummy. We can't afford no hook up..... What they mean is, nobody rats and if it wasn't your house, who cares..... Cops know. They take notes, but what can they do? Nobody wants to see their nephew or godson on movies like that.

Ca-Ca tip toes into her parent's room and peeks between the window shade and the molding. They ain't got no curtains. She sees the broken cellar window... Starts biting her lip. Her dad's doing something down the cellar. Then she starts dancin' around. Gotta go pee. Since this all started, since she (and Timothy) killed Esther and all, she pees a lot, scratches her arms too. Having all that money in the house makes her even more nervous. Got the old Spiderman lunch kit thrown in with a lot of other shit on the floor of her closet.... Eighteen thousand dollars... All in twenties. Wants to run away to Wildwood, or California, or someplace like that. Wants to dye her hair and stuff her little training bra. Figures a twelve year old'll fit in better. Hired-whore pretendin' to be the mother can say she's home schooling them. It'd work... for a while... if Cousin Mike finds a good, cheap, hired-whore-mom... Maybe old ones charge less?

Door slams. Ca-Ca's mother comes in while she's on the toilet. Ca-Ca hears her yellin' down to her father in the cellar. Says cop asked questions 'bout Esther (the dead girl) too... Ca-Ca couldn't hear what her dad said...

But she stayed in the bathroom a good long time..... rockin' back and forth and scratchin' her arms...

<to be continued>

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#HomicideWanderers Face Big Problems ... 9/2/15 .

QUICK SHOT -- The bedroom floor in front of the opened closet door. The small safe, banged up and broken lies on it's side, amid old scattered shoes and vintage copies of Confidential Magazine. All illumination comes from a discarded nine volt, keychain light lying on the floor.

QUICK SHOT -- The safe... It's empty.

QUICK SHOT -- The backdoor is wide open. The house is dark....

LONG SHOT -- (the narrow back alley) Two figures race from the camera, toward light and the cross street beyond. The taller one carries a pillow case filled with loot.

INT. --(Cousin Mike's cellar) moments later... Ca-Ca and Mike sprawl on the sofa out of breath.

AUNT CONNIE -- (VO) What's all that noise? What you kids doin' down there!?

MIKE -- Nothin'! Scary movie! Best part! Shut up! Go back to sleep!

She mumbles. A door slams. It's quiet. Our juvenile burglars catch their breathe.

Ca-Ca goes to say something. Mike shuts her up. He looks up toward the door leading to the kitchen. Then he hoists the pillow case, waves it around and grins. Ca-Ca grins too, as he turns it over and sends a thick, heavy blizzard of twenty dollar bills raining down upon her.

QUICK SHOT -- Neat stacks of bills on the floor....Not flat, crisp, new bills... Old, flattened out, crumpled ones.

Mike (whispers) -- Twenties... all twenties...

Ca-Ca -- (whispers) H-how much?

Mike -- Thirty six thousand...

They sit cross legged on the floor, looking at it.....

Ca-Ca -- How much is that a week? Like in a pay check. I can't think anyway else....

MIKE (sighs) -- Gimme a minute....

She looks... He continues -- If there was like a hundred weeks in a year it'd be three hundred and sixty bucks a week. So, I'm thinkin' fifty weeks... half that....

Ca-Ca --- So it's half three sixty?

Mike -- No! Double! Double! Seven twenty! Seven twenty!

Ca-Ca -- Oh... (quietly) and Tim goes with us. He don't wanna. I can tell. But I ain't leavin' him here....

Mike (turning toward the muted 30's Frankenstein film on TV -- So? Kill him too...

Ca-Ca (whispers) -- Very funny....

He chuckles silently and makes crazy eyes at her.... She looks away... While on the screen, Frankenstein's Monster grins maniacally....

They sit in silence for a bit.

Mike (a light goes on in his head) -- Don't forget. Half is mine.....

She nods.

He continues -- Then it is only three sixty a week... He laughs.

She just looks at him..

Mike -- I'm gettin' a new guitar...maybe an SUV...

She looks at him... But this time a little different.

SHOT OF THE STREET -- Gray, cold morning...

Ca-Ca walks home carrying an old Spiderman lunch kit. Looks like it must have been her cousin's. That's where the money is...

Timothy peeks out his window and sees from across the street... But she doesn't look up. She just takes out her key (from a lanyard around her neck) unlocks her door and goes in...

<to be continued>

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THE TEN YEAR OLD KILLER AND HER TEENAGE COUSIN BREAK IN... 9/1/15

They taped the three little glass slats in the louvered window with duct tape. They carefully broke them with a rubber mallet. Cousin Mike carefully shattered the thin, solid glass panel behind the louvers. He draped a blanket over the bottom of the opening so they could squeeze through the twenty by sixteen inch space... but when it came time to go in, he said - You first..... Ca-Ca blinked. She whispered - What? You said you could do this?.. I can - he said, but they got my DNA. It's on file..... From when? - she said..... From when we stole Jimmy Magliani's dad's car.... You were thirteen and a half years old. Does it count?.... Yeah, it counts. What do you think?... How'd they get it?... Ryan's sister, the one who laughs like a goof all the time, smashed my thumb in the door when we came back from goofy golf. Look, they got it! they got it!... Shhh - she said... And they laid there on the cold, drizzly pavement in their black 'mission impossible' get ups for like thirteen heartbeats in the almost icy, two AM air. In a tiny voice,Ca-Ca said - But, Mike, (pause) I killed someone. (first time she said it).... So? - he said. They don't know and you want to run away, don't you? How much you think hiring some whore to be your fake mom costs? Plenty, let me tell ya, if you want a good one. Now go in.... What if there's bugs or mice?.... They'll run away. Don't worry. You got your little nine volt flashlight?... Yeah..... Then go in, or I'm getting up and walking home. There's money in there. Come on! ..... She sighed and slipped in. It was easy for her. She was ten years old. Ca-Ca slid down the blanket onto the old, linoleum floor. A quick click on her light gave her an instant image. Not much clutter. Shelves on one side held boxes of Christmas stuff. Halloween, Easter and Fourth of July stuff too. Then she crept up the cellar stairs. The door to the kitchen was broke. It was broke when 'Pony' used to babysit her. They leaned an old leaf from a long gone kitchen table against it. Ca-Ca knew that. Mike taught her how to ease the heavy board-like thing out of place with a yard stick (the only tool she had with her). She slowly pushed it through the space at the bottom of the door, til she felt it hit the bottom of the rectangular barrier. If she did it slow enough, the leaf would slide out and ease down toward the floor. Still be a bang when it came down, but not as loud as if she just pushed it. The noise was meant to alert Pony and her grandmom, but no one was home. The house was empty. Immigrants rented on both sides, Brazilian and some Belarus people. Who knew if they were even 'legal?' They wouldn't say nothin', even if they heard. Some people are experts at not getting involved. So she scampered through the kitchen (after a quick click of the light and unlocked the back door. It was cold. She was scared. Then she ran out into the tiny, fenced in space (like all the yards) and unlatched the wooden door leading out to the alley. No pit bulls out... too cold... That's why winter break-ins (provided no snow) are safer. Thirty pounding heartbeats later, Mike slipped through. They went inside. But he ran back out to close and latch the yard door, just incase some cops went down the alley. Sometimes they do. But just sometimes. And you can see 'em 'cause they got a big flashlight to flush people out the other end... Mostly bums and kids 'playin'' with each other. After that, they tip-toed up the old squeaky stairs. No use wakin' up them Brazilians and Belarus people if you don't have to. 'Pony's' room was a mess. Not like the ones they used to show on 'Oprah,' but like she was studying the technique and just didn't have it down pat yet. The old lady's room was neat. Smelled from 'old lady,' but neat. Mike opened the closet door.. That squeaked too. A toilet flushed on the Brazilian side. Mike whispered - Now we gotta wait ten minutes for them to fall back asleep.... Ca-Ca thought a few heartbeats and said - What if somebody goes by and sees the broken cellar window?.... Mike goes - What are they gonna see? I brushed it all inside. A little, pitch black 'square.' What are they gonna notice? 'Sides, the shadow from the steps hides it.... She nodded... Then they just sat. A small cuckoo clock made noise. She peed a little.

Then, when the ten minutes was up, they momentarily clicked a bit of light into the closet...

There, on the floor, behind some shoes, a pile of old Confidential magazines from fifty years ago and a colorful, shiny 'shopping bag' lazy people use to wrap presents in was the safe... a seventy nine dollar special from Sears...

And Mike knew all the tricks....

<to be continued>

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