Sunday, January 15, 2017

"Down the Pines" <~~ EDITH our WITCHY -WOMAN SPEAKS .. 1/14/17

14/16

Sometime Edith go back to the Pines to be with Mr. Edith, her current husband and to say 'hi' to everybody. It supposed to be warm for January, like in the fifties, so she gone down now.  Ain't gone miss nothin'. Little Larry gone learn how to fly. She see vampire-cherub learn to fly before. She see all kind a stuff, bein' witchy-woman.

Right now she out on the porch. Got a snug, little cabin, wit' a root cellar down below. Got a few bottles of Pine Wine. She like the night. It colder now, like thirty eight out. She got a good ski-jacket from the Value City, before it close up. Vampires give her money, but she like simple ways. Bundle up wit' scarf and a Philadelphia Flyers wool cap. Got a little candle flickerin'. She got it in a flower pot so breeze don't blow it out. Not much light. Ghosts don't like too much light, 'cause it wash 'em out an' make 'em look all scuzzy.

Cabin in a little, muddy clearing. Twenty feet in every direction is the woods. Bobcat come by. Got like a little bitty human hand in its mouth. Not little bitty for a child. Like little bitty for a man, or some woman what wash her clothes by hand. You know, wringin' out take a lot a strength. Edith jus' stare that bobcat down till it run away. She stare anything down, even a headless ghost an' that hard to do.

Ghost come buy. It a little shitty, drunk ghost wit' a Six Flags Great Adventure t-shirt. Ran in the woods and got lost. Tripped on a log and got ate up by some snappin' turtles. That why it so shitty lookin.' One eye all gone. Lips all gone. Nose went somewhere. I don't know. Hands all skeleton. Ain't got no external genitalia, 'cause snappin' turtles like that part real fine.

Edith go - Peace, spirit of the Pines.... Little, Shitty Ghost go - Zat where I am?... Then he go runnin' off through them trees yellin' - Help! Help! Help!... Edith go - What you yellin' 'help' for? You dead already?.... But he already a ways off an' don't hear.

She thinkin' she might go see the Talk-To-God Man. He like a shaman 'round here. Sit in a twisty cave off through the woods. Cave used to be a mine, but that back when George Washington still breathin.' Edith not scared a the woods at night, 'cause she a witchy-woman an' can always throw a hoo-doo. Nothin' come near no witchy-woman what throw no hoo-doo. Even them ham-bone spiders stay away. They called ham-bone 'cause big ones can drag a whole, bone-in ham up a tree, or like a baby goat, or like a baby anything. Sometime you hear poor little creature bleatin' in the dark. She find a dried up husk, mostly jus' skin and bone, on a trail one day. Jus' say a little prayer and keep goin'.

Deep in the pitch black maze of Talk-To-God Man's cave is room where he sit. He light little candles too, so it not all dark when he sittin' there. Got a hole in the floor surrounded by rough flagstones. Hole maybe four feet across. Slant down maybe three hundred feet. Sides all slicked with smooth, white lime. Damp keep it slippery too. Got a big room at the bottom. Space like a upside down half a grapefruit. Walls and floor all mud. Them what do bad 'round here get throwed down there. Most try brace they legs  'cross chute, but chute too wide. They go down anyway and it a one way trip. They scream and plead. They promise they gone be good. Talk-To-God Man go - Shit on you, you devil bastid. You gone die!...

But they don't die fast. Eat big fat slugs what live on walls. Slugs eat little fungi what grow there. Don't know what they taste like. Maybe escargot? Them what get throwed down suck water out a mud too.  Folks can go on a long time that way... down in the dark and the wet and the shit. Sometimes they throw women type people, young'un type people... even a dog once or twice. Them what do the throwin' in ain't always much better. They just band together.

Edith change her mind. She not gone go see Talk-To-God Man. Horsey Skeezix fly over. He see candle glowin' on her porch and come down to say 'hi.' Edith like Horsey Skeezix. He a little boy Jersey Devil... like a human bean, but with horsey hind feet, a horsey-like smooth, glossy coat, a slightly elongated horsey face, arms with big, strong, long fingered hands and a horsey mane runnin' down from his head to between them big, leathery bat wings growin' out of his back...

He play with Pin Head Mel. He a friendly Jersey Devil. Actually, most a them not that bad. It just lousy public relations.

So  now I gonna leave you. Case you don't recognize my voice, I Mister Never You Mind, a disembodied spirit narrator. I a ghost... an old Creole-Cajun gentleman what got tied to a chair and burnt up, or tied to a chair and throwed in a acid vat... When you been dead since Prohibition you forget. Who knows? Who cares?

An' one more thing. The Jersey Pines a magical place... Got great music, great stories, old time traditions. Most folk just like you, only folksier.

But if you  float down little bitty unusual river bend, or hike to what they call 'another part of the forest' you gone encounter all kinds a things... and some things got hands an' eyes an' claws an' teeth an' everything.

Jus' so you know...

<more later>

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