Sunday, May 8, 2016


Then there came the moment when the born-witch stood before him, heaving and spiting in all her evil glory. Billy closed his eyes and waited. But the ghost from the cellar, the ghost of the little boy who did not quite survive polio stayed by him. The tiny fellow raised his chin, looked into her eyes and said - No!... That was it... just 'No!' ... And she was gone. The house was restored. All was quiet. The little spirit boy whispered in Billy's ear - It's alright. You can look now.... Billy did. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and started to laugh... She's a liar. That big dumb slob is a liar....

What the ghost boy didn't know was that  HE stopped her, for no 'magic thief' can prevail against the innocent soul of a martyred child. Billy didn't know that either. Nor did the vampires. That's why they ran away with Doctor Franklin and went to 'Baby Philadelphia.'...

A few heartbeats later, Billy set the little boy up in front of the 'basement' flat screen so he could watch a monster movie marathon on the SyFy channel. Then he went upstairs to fix himself up and go out for food. Before he left, he checked the house. All was as it should be. The small, cozy library was safe. Every room was safe. Even the noxious born-witch stink was gone. He grabbed a rustic looking lanyard from the junk drawer in the kitchen and put it over his head. Edith claimed it was a hoo-doo meant to keep away all manner of evil. Maybe it was?

From the street, the house looked OK too... just a tasteful pre-Revolutionary, red brick, Philadelphia townhouse. Except for the updated kitchen, baths and family room, it was still rather authentic... gleaming hardwoods... wool area rugs... antiques... crown molding... yadda yadda yadda. Billy saw the nosy neo- yuppie-hipster couple from across the street open their door, tip-tap down the steps and disappear into an Uber car. They didn't act like anything was wrong either. Hard to tell with them. You know who should have been the vampires? They should have been the vampires. Reality is never like TV. That's just how it is.

So Billy walked down to the South Street Deli for an omelet, home fries, whole wheat toast and iced tea. That was his 'thing.' Sometimes he varied the omelet, but just that part. I don't know if it was breakfast time or dinner time. I don't know how long the ordeal with the born-witch was. I'm just a disembodied narrator... not Mister Never You Mind, or Zebulon. I'm a different one. Hello, nice to meet you. You want me to go outside and see what time it is? I will. I'll pay attention this time. I promise. But really, WHAT difference does it make? There IS no day. There IS no night. There's just sunlight and shadows. The 'day' is always there. The 'night' is always there. You face one way or you face the other. Call it what you want. The world is like that. Where YOU are and HOW you THINK about it is what counts. Schedules are for slaves.

But before I go, let me tell you something. Pig-Blood-Annie would have killed Billy, if she could. The little ghost boy prevented her from doing that... innocent essence and all. She would have ripped him limb from limb... flesh, muscle, skin, gristle, everything.

Still, the evil virago didn't leave empty handed. She 'read' the aura of the place. She felt the vibrations. She knew their past, up to a point. She knew their future. She knew where they were headed. Didn't know it was called 'Baby Philadelphia.' Didn't know the historic details, but she sensed it. Her mind and body recorded it.... And she'd do everything she could to follow them there...

Born-witches have lots of tools. Look, you know how Doctor Franklin is always experimenting with harmonics? Well, it's like her whole being 'reads' harmonics.... an extra sense few others have.

After he ate, Billy went into the CVS to get some magazines for himself and the ghost boy. On the way home, he ran into @phillyjesus (yeah, you can click it) and stopped to talk. This is the best 'Jesus' in Center City, even Saturday Night Live knows him. Billy doesn't care who's a Christian or a Jew or a Muslim. He just likes to talk and spiritual people are among the most interesting. At least that's what he thinks. You might have your own opinions. I don't care.

Now let me drift into that little shop over there and watch clueless bastards try and stuff themselves into black, leather, skinny pants. I like that. It tickles me. Wonder if shoppers realize some of the people who tried on that crap peed a little?

Pig-Blood-Annie has like a divining rod. She's walking around the city with it now, trying to find their point of departure... the vampires and Doctor Franklin and all. Ain't wearing no diarrhea stained house dress now. Looks like the stone hearted teacher, or principal, or whatever she was from Matilda. Folks jump out of her way real fast. Nobody wants to go to the 'Chokie' and who knows what kind of Chokie she imagines.

Good bye. I'm done. Damp spring days in the magical city.... That's how it is....

<more next time>


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