Sunday, December 27, 2015

The Mediaeval Baebes - The Holly and the Ivy - Lyrics ..A Witchy Woman & A Vampire Talk... 12/27/15

 

Edith came back from the pines. The witchy-woman had two families, her first and the night-folk. She parked the car outside and went into the townhouse. Everything was quiet and dim. On gray drizzly mornings the interior stayed dark a long, long time. But she heard a sound, soft snoring from the little library and carefully opened the door and slipped inside. The shutters were specially made to shut tight, the better to seal in the dark. Vampires need that, especially Jonathon, who often falls asleep in there. Even though she couldn't see him, the pattern on inhalations and exhalations was familiar, so she switched on the little 'China trade' lamp.... The vampire, Jonathon, opened an eye and in a thick, sleepy voice said - Edith, what time did you get back?..... Just now - she said.... What time is it? - He yawned..... Eight thirty. You have the whole day yet. Still dark in the hallway, if you want to run up stairs and tuck yourself in? - she asked..... No - he said. I'll stretch out here. I like it in here..... Are you sure? Are you warm enough?.... I have two afghans. I'll be all right - he said. And stretched out on the sofa under his covers..... But Edith didn't leave. She just stood there..... What is it? - he said..... Oh, you know how it is. I always get this way after Christmas. It's like why does it have to be over? - she said..... I know - he whispered. You know how I get around holidays. Jerusalem Fever is a chronic condition, my dear and we both have it. Was it nice in The Pines?..... It's always nice in The Pines - she said. I take out all her little toys and all her little outfits. She had some storybooks about two little kewpie dolls who escaped from a souvenir cart at the circus. I don't know if she understood all the words, but she loved when we read to her. I'd show her all the pictures. Mister Edith would read to her too. Then I'd tuck her into her little crib and wind up the jewelry box. It was mine when I was a little girl. My father bought it for me in Cape May. She'd hear the tinkling song. A tiny celluloid ballerina danced around - Edith's voice trailed off.... Jonathon knew about her loss. He knew about the little girl, a baby actually, barely ten months old. Sometimes Edith wanted to talk about her. Sometimes she didn't. He understood. So he said nothing and waited for her to continue.....Edith sat down in a chair... I saw her. I saw her little spirit - she said. I blew her a kiss and she waved. You know how babies wave? They raise both arms over their heads and open and close their little hands. She was right there on the braided rug. I moved to get down on the floor and sit next to her, but she disappeared. I could smell her. I could smell her baby smell, but she was gone. Something's going to happen. I just have that feeling. I get real melancholy. You know how I get.... I know - he whispered. I was that way last night too. Started preaching. I don't think I went overboard, but Billy picked up on it. He channeled it and typed it into the blog. It went out. It's published. I got a couple hundred 'hits.' Is that what they call them, 'hits?'..... That's what they call them - she said. Come on. After all this time, you don't think they know about us? They know everything. He blogs about us almost every night. And don't tell me you don't like it.... He nodded.... A few minutes later he fell asleep. Edith quietly got up, turned off the little lamp and carefully went out so as not to let much of the weak gray light in the hall wash in.... Sarah, Jonathon's consort was upstairs in their chamber. She didn't snore, but Edith, as a witchy-woman, knew she was there. Sometimes Conrad turned up, but not that day. So she went into the kitchen, brewed herself a mug of tea and sat down in the den to watch her 'morning shows.' She turned the sound down, but Edith was used to that. Living with nocturnal vampires, you just know.

She still had the feeling something was going to happen. At least she hoped it would.

Jonathon had that feeling too... She drank her tea and he dreamt of Old Cordoba in the rich, orange eleventh century sunshine.....

Thus the day began....

<more next time>

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