Monday, October 10, 2016


No music tonight... Not that kind of a night. Jonathon knew they were all against him. It wasn't anything personal...just politics. Oh, there might have been a time... maybe a night or two, or a speech or two when they were willing to listen. That's how it always is. They let you have a chance, but know ahead of time that your ticket ain't the winning ticket.

Nobody was threatening, or violent. They just didn't care. Former Ancient Roman Emperor, at one time considered a fine, altruistic statesman, Marcus Aurelius, led a group up to the fifth floor smoking room for cigars and brandy. Vampires prefer more clarified spirits, like vodka, or gin. I guess they had some of that too. Besides, that non-decomposing zombie (at best) ain't even a real vampire anyway.

Our vampire hero sat on a leather upholstered bench in the entrance hall for a while. A footman offered him some chilled grappa, but he just shook his head and waved him away. After a five minutes or so, he got up, put on his jacket and went out. How quiet it was, the first truly chill night of the year... down to the low fifties (about 11C).The streets were nearly deserted. Clubs and bars let out over an hour ago. A few congregated in pancake joints and coffee shops... no huge, naked, plate glass windows anymore. Night-Hawks are security conscious these days. Jonathon might have gone in to talk. He often did. Drank a plain hot tea, as he observed all the people. But not tonight. Tonight he just walked.

He saw the occasional put upon worker, plodding on toward some thankless job, or perhaps a homeless woman dragging all her tattered belongings in a two wheeled, squeaking, market cart. Most nights he slipped them money. Made up these little rolls of hundred dollar bills before he went out... ten to a roll... one thousand dollars in each. That night he had none, so he just walked.

Now this is real early Monday morning we're talking about. Say 4AM. Early risers ain't up 'cause it's Columbus Day. Lot a people have off, so they sleep late and get up for, let's say, The Price Is Right, or How Dumb Is Your In-Laws?. Vampire like Jonathon can almost hear 'em snoring. But tomorrow night starts The Service of Atonement and Reconciliation, Yom Kippur, and you know how he gets. Sometimes he sits for hours in the little library at his townhouse listening to records of old hymns, prayers and cantorials for hours. Edith, the witchy-woman housekeeper calls it his 'holy roller' time. He's not home, so he heads for the old Rite of Spain (Sephardic) synagogue where he sometimes prays near the Old Statehouse (Independence Hall). A lot a stuff got 'old' in front of it 'round there. But not 'ye olde.' I think that's somewhere else. I think that means fake old stuff. This is real old stuff.

Jonathon sublimates right in when he gets there. Place is all locked up and dark. Night watchman sits in an unmarked, black car. Sometimes he parks out front. Sometimes he drives 'round the back, or walks up the alleyways. Looks like a Quaker Meeting House, if you've ever seen one of them, red brick and all. Our vampire friend solidifies, covers his head with a black prayer cap from the wooden box and enters the sanctuary. Only light comes from the Eternal Flame and that's not much. Jonathon takes a seat in one of the pews. Can't read a prayer book. Too dark, even for vampire eyes. But he doesn't need one. Knows 'em all by heart. Old Rabbi de Solis is already sittin' there. He been dead since before the Alamo. Not a ghost. Passed over to The World To Come, but shows up to pray with them what needs it. Jonathon remembers him from the old days. Vampire whispers - Why are people so small minded?... Rabbi goes - You're not... Then they just sit there.

Looks like Doctor Franklin and his crew gonna win. His comely, Korean, vampire gal gone in to where that Pacific Rim country keep their 'Great Leader.'

Leader look happy.... Dumb shit...

Don't he know he gonna die?

<more next time>


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