Sunday, March 1, 2015


They sat 'round a table in a room within The Residence. Doctor Franklin had quite commodious quarters within his Anti-Enchantment Bureau. Vampires and other exotic quests visit from time to time. Please don't go by the name, but in the early days of scientific inquiry around here 'pro' enchantment sentiment was a problematic viewpoint to have. Rougher sorts and backwoods types were not adverse to burnings. Though by the late eighteenth century they were not usually publicized. Mustn't scare away settlers.

Tonight his guest was Jonathon. They sipped hot spiced gin in the 'tavern' room, as they pondered Billy's dilemma and how he might escape 'possession.' ..... Doctor Franklin said - Since the being, when mortal was 'mantid' or arthropod, a large crustacean might do the trick... maybe something like a king crab, or a coconut eating crab might suffice. Have you ever seen them? (Jonathon shook his head) Big ones can reach ten pounds with thick, muscular legs. Believe me, a horrific sight. They'll take meet too. Wouldn't want to be a lost, little Pacific Islander. I can tell you that.... Can you get one? - asked Jonathon..... I have merfolk, Jersey Devils and Yetis in there (gestures toward the specimen wing). I can get anything. You know that - said the old scientist.... But do you really think it would work? - asked Jonathon.... The scientifically preserved patriot shrugged and said - The number of limbs might be wrong. Even seven hundred and fifty thousand year old entities have memories, you know. We need something smart and something agile. I'm thinking a chimp or  an orangutan. Don't tell anyone I said that. Not to politically correct these days. You know the P.E.T.A. people wanted to come through here? They know about this place. What don't they know?.... How do you keep them out? - said Jonathon...So far, copious, luxuriant amounts of money. Nothing unseemly. Not to individuals. I mean to the organization. So they tolerate an incarcerated merman, or Jersey Devil, or Yeti. Besides, those things are not animals. (thinks for a few moments) I'm going to use an orangutan. Smart, but not too smart. And they move with a slow, precise mantid grace. Have you ever noticed that? - asked Franklin..... No - said Jonathon. I believe they're diurnal (active in daylight). How could I?..... Good point, my boy. Good point - whispered the Doctor. Then he said - Have him ready when next the moon shines bright. The van will be outside. Let my people in. They'll get him out. None will see. And should a nosy parker pepper the household with questions, let them say some sort of television or electronic device is being returned to the vendor. I've seen your eyes and by 'you' I mean all night-folk. None can fight such eyes.

So they finished their drinks and went to hob-nob with outlandish examples of lifeforms best kept in the dark. The Yeti trilled an alpine song in exchange for nuts and apples. Three pens down a Circassian Bear ate convicts, as right next door the replacement sea hag (the earlier aged mermaid died) sang sad songs of the depths.

One night hence, the magic begins. All prayed for success....

<more next time>


to see more click STRANGE MENAGERIE  ... join me on Twitter. click THE TALKING PLACE ...please leave a comment. thank you for any support you're willing to give me. you know if you click the BLOGGER icon on our SHARE BAR down below, you can import any episode to your own BLOGGER blog site. I just remembered that.   

Sub Pub Music - Creep (Massive Dark Ambient Sinister Orchestral Horror) ..Things rarely mentioned 3/1/15

This is part of an album and there are rumors about how it was recorded. But we won't discuss that now. We're here for other things. This is an intermission.... a break from our vampire drama. Night-folk are really quite tame. They're not like ghouls. They're not like zombies. Those of you who've been with us for a while know that. Real terror lies elsewhere, in souls quite human, though contorted into strange shapes. Every city has them. But they hide. And the thing is... you don't want to look.

Witness 'the ice cream man.' Listen for his bell. Ah, there it goes, serenading children on hot summer nights. The route is very special. And the schedule rather late. If you live on a block with lots of people, don't look for 'the ice cream man.' Crowds frighten him. Monsters have phobias to, you know. He frequents leafy lanes on the outskirts of town, with wide lawns, old trees and large stone houses. Most people go in after dark, breathing in the artificially cooled air. It's expensive to retrofit old houses. Occasionally there might be a lawn party, but they're around back and far away. What with all the trees, there's not much light. Street lamps can only do so much. 

Sometimes a child comes out. Every place has it's loners. Which is not to say they have no friends. But certain individuals relish the dark and the quiet. A door opens... a side door... leading from a small library out to a grey stone porch. A child comes out... a little girl, but not that little... perhaps eleven. She crosses the lawn, taking care lest she trip on tree roots. Lights are for flower beds, or driveways. There are none here. Only shadows. A boy once sailed from the heights of that tree, smashing his skull on a bough toward the bottom and thus already dead by the time he hit the grass. But that was in nineteen twenty one. The current family knows nothing of it, though his spirit flickers through the grounds on warm summer nights. Fireflies say hello. So do the bats. The eleven year old girl runs right by him, noticing nothing more that a cool breeze and an exceptionally dark shadow. He whispers a greeting, though she's deaf to it. 

There by the curb is the truck... an old, small, white, ice cream truck. There's no roof. The driver sits out in the open with a big freezer in back. It was once a GOOD HUMOR truck, but that was long ago. Tiny, exterior lights up toward the top make it glow... an oasis of soft illumination on an other wise still, dark street. Not even a car goes by. Little gnats swarm 'round the lights. The man stands there in his while pants and white shirt, smiling a well rehearsed smile.He has a hoarse voice and thick, leathery skin. His hands are boney. His nails shiny and thick.

What is thee wish? - he says... The girl asks for a choco-taco. He opens one of the thick freezer doors and hums a little tune. A gnat bites the girl's forearm. She slaps it away and stands there politely waiting for her treat. But when he turns around there's no wrapped confection in his hand, but rather a wadded up rag dowsed with chloroform. Before she can resist, he grabs the back of her head and jams the dirty cloth into her face. She gasps... but that's good, for it forces the intoxicating fumes deep into her lungs. Then she lashes out, scratching his arms and kicking her feet. He twists her neck. Something cracks. Oh, it's not broken, but she realizes he could do that too, so she stops. Eight heartbeats later the girl goes limp... not dead... just drugged.... She smells his acrid stench, as he picks her up. And she hears a night bird sing, as he forces her body into the freezer through the small, open door. A wrist breaks... a clavicle ... Pelvis cracks a little. Oh, she feels the pain. Chloroform numbs it a little, but just a little. And the ice cream man's gotta do what he gotta do to get her in...Soon she's all scrunched up on top of a thick, canvas drop cloth. Then he slams the door, locking her in with another almost dead body.

But they ain't gonna die in there. He has to get 'em 'home' first. So the ice cream man hops in front, shuts the door, pops out his two glass eyes and puts 'em in a box he got. Feels better without 'em. Sees better two.

Then he starts the engine and drives away. Streets all quiet... few crickets, maybe, but that's it. Blue, TV lights vibrate from windows here and there.... maybe the noise of an old central air conditioning unit that needs replacing. No kids. No people. No nothing. Just dark. Every so often a ghost... not many, but they're around.

Family goes - Where'd the girl go?.... Somebody says - Oh, she's watching TV in the little library...

And that's it.

Truck don't stop no more. It just goes. Little exterior lights blink out too...

It's easy to sneak away...

<more next time>


read more. click DARK LEAFY STREETS ... and join us on Twitter. click TWEET TWEET TWEET ... please comment. if you like, tell your friends. thank you.