Friday, June 24, 2016

Ancient Being Known As Papa Reappears With An Enemy.. 6/24/16

The next night, Billy went back to the townhouse. He wasn't alone. Roland, one of the elferinos went with him. God knows what he expected to find. In the night-folk world anything can happen and Billy wasn't even really night-folk. Sure he knew a few words in Old Vahmperigo (a Mediterranean vampire language) and was familiar with the 'talking' mummies stored deep in the basements of The Penn Museum, but that's not really so much. Witchy-woman, Edith taught him to throw a few protection spells. They sort of worked. Nobody sat next to him on the subway. Groups of rowdy street kids tortured other people. Birds never crapped on his head, although, sometimes that can be lucky.
He threw one on the house before he left. Roland walked up to the door and sniffed. He has that elferino sense of smell... more than just smell... detects evil, ethereal presences, coins under seat cushions, lost, popped off Barbie heads, used Kleenexes. Billy whispered - Well, is it alright?..... Seems so - said the Walloon, paranormal 'youth.'... Then he sniffed the two windows on each side of the door as well.... Billy watched apprehensively. Roland said - Want me to pop over the roof and check the back?..... Do you think you should? - asked Billy..... No, not really - said the elferino. It's not a physical thing, but a spiritual sense I get of the whole place. It's clear. Do you want to go it?.... Billy nodded. They went up the marble steps. The little ghost boy peered out a basement window and watched them enter.

All the lights were out. A bit of streetlamp illumination filtered in here and there, but just a bit. The fine, old tall clock in the hall ticked quietly. Billy wondered who'd balanced the weights, though in a house like this anything could happen.

They walked toward the back of the house, where the kitchen and den were. He tried to flick a switch or two, but no luck. Still dark. Roland whispered - I feel something..... Billy whispered - What?..... Roland said - I don't know. It's... I don't know.....

Then they saw the light... not a lamp... not a fixture... just a light... a small, round, cloud of subdued, orange radiating out from the middle of the den, halfway between the ceiling and the floor. They stared transfixed. After a few heartbeats a face 'appeared' washed in the strange, shadowy glow from the ghostly illumination. 'Papa' was back. He sat in one of the big club chairs, posed like the statue of the legendary president in the Lincoln Memorial. Billy blinked. He was shocked. Roland barely knew who Papa was. No one said a word. Billy wished one of the night-folk were present, not an elferino, but a 'classic' vampire, someone to represent the household. He didn't want to address the unbelievably ancient, entity, but (sigh) he had to.... so he steeled himself, stepped forward and said - Papa, you're back.... The twenty eight thousand year old being who looked like a thirty two, or thirty three year old Richard Gere (and dressed like one as well) continued to stare at the light. Then he held up a large pickle jar. It caught the orange glow. He wanted Billy to come closer. The mortal, blog coordinator did... Papa said one word - Look...
Billy saw what was in the jar. A tiny Pig Blood Annie (their 'born witch' nemesis) thrashed about in what to her were huge, crashing waves.... Billy said - But, Papa, why didn't you come back when Jonathon (our hero and his vampiric progeny) called?.... Papa carefully placed the jar on the cocktail table, looked up, smiled wryly and said - The important thing is I'm here now.

Then he picked up the jar and shook it. They could hear the born-witch scream inside. That made him laugh. He shook it again....

You see, to the evil witch entrapped within, there was no jar, but an endless ocean, far, far away, on a world not quite her own.

Roland moved in for a look.... Papa smiled, but the ever careful elferino was too amazed to smile back...

<more next time>

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