WILD CHILD VAMPIRINO LEO GETS ANTSY IN THE JERSEY PINES... 5/13/13

Leo was starting to get excited. Yeah, he's here too. you might have forgotten, but he's here. Likes to howl at the moon, rip his clothes off and dash through the streets. Cops got video. They don't like it. Jonathon had to spread around a lot of money to get them to back off. Now Leo mostly rips his clothes off and runs around 'wild' in Laurel Hill cemetery, the vast, old, moldering necropolis for the dead, high above the banks of the Schuylkill River. The caretaker and his wife know about him. And the little 'cherubs' (babies and toddlers tragically made vampires by warped and twisted night-folk) squeal and fly away at his approach. 

Sometimes he grabs a mortal kid or two. They sneak in to get drunk and play 'I Got You, Babe.' Only kills the runaways, 'cause that's like almost legal. But now we're deep in The Pines and he's feeling the beat. Look at him. He's already unbuttoning his shirt and it's really cold (for May) tonight too. Conrad sucks his teeth. He hates that kind a stuff. Annie nudges Edith and says - Where's that big, dumb nut takin' us?.... But Edith just shushes her. You don't mess with Red Paint people, not even vampires.  So our weird and wonderful safari silently snakes through the pines behind the man in the beaver tail tunic. Boy that must feel clammy 'gainst his skin. 

Now Leo ditched his shirt.  If you want to know what he looks like, he's OK... little bit stringy, but not too bad... Like a rock band front man with buzzed hair. An' he cracks his neck from side to side. Oh, he's gettin' tense. He's gettin' ready. 'Bout two hundred heartbeats later even the pants are gone. Conrad, his vampire step-brother, whispers - When you gonna change?..... But Leo just shoves him and says - Go to hell....

Then they hear the drums. You know what they sound like? Like those big tambors that guy plays at those CELTIC WOMEN concerts. Real strong... Real rhythmic... Real deep. The guy in the beaver tail tunic says something and they stop. Then he leads them 'round a bend into a clearing (just visible in the light from the smart phone.... how long can that last???) and there, just ahead, lies the settlement called Jubilee. Crude candles in small, rock hollows cut the darkness. Nine or ten simple plank 'cabins' served as architecture. And maybe twenty dancers stompin' and shufflin' around in the dirt. Some were naked. Some wore bits and pieces of squirrel hide. One 'lady' had an 'I'm With Stupid' shrunkin' up sweatshirt, but she didn't care...

An' them big tambor drums were made from human skin... whole tanned hides from the look of it, 'cause we could see the hands, feet and heads dangling over the rims. Looked like old folks. Probably keeled over from natural causes. Don't think they killed folks on spite. Hope not..... Guess we'll find out.

Edith led us to a spot a little ways off from the dancers. They had little benches back there, more like rough planed logs, so we all sat down. Our guide, the Red Paint guy in the beaver tail tunic, left us to join his friends... Looked like a line dance in Bedrock... Looked like a bunch a creeps from like a Mad Max movie. But we didn't say nothing, 'cause we were company. Edith says some regular (well, more or less) Piney folks'll be here in the morning. Says Mister Edith (her current husband) fixed up one a the root cellars for us. 

Look at Leo. He already makin' eyes at that woman in the shrunken up 'I'm With Stupid' sweatshirt. An' they better disappear in them bushes soon, or he gonna scandalize the whole place......

I 'm sending this  to you telepathically (I hope). All I know is it's giving me an earache and it's makin' my scalp itch..... 

They offer us something to drink... some kind of home brewed liquor. Vampires can tolerate that, so they take it. Looks like they got a full set of Scooby-Doo jelly glasses. Could be valuable. Who knows?

One a them little human tinged 'muskrat' creatures scampered in. Mouth looked all bloody though..... Then a full grown male Jersey Devil was all of a sudden just there.... Like a big faun or satyr with a mane gone down his spine and huge, soft, leathery bat wings, all folded up neat 'cross his back. No horns, though. Just big, pointy, kind of horsey ears. Sits down right next to Conrad.... Conrad slowly looks and goes - Hi...... Jersey Devil guy nods. then he starts pickin' something out of his hoof. Not cloven, like a real satyr, but plain, like what equines got.

Little man-rodent creature starts gnawing on what looks like a ripped off human finger. Don't know where he got it, though... 'cause we all still got ours. 

Leo ran off with that shrunken sweatshirt, naked from the belly down, Red Paint woman...

This is startin' a get real......

wilkravitz signing off..... D-did you get it?
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WELCOME TO THE VERY REAL, VERY MAGICAL & VERY MYSTERIOUS JERSEY PINES... 5/09/13

Bet you don't even know we here. Think it all shoppin' malls, P.J. Changs and goofy-golf. Well, who the hell care what you think? We like bein' invisible. We like settin' out on cool dark night talkin' to ghosts.  Legally dead folks can be mighty friendly.  Y'all jus' gotta give 'em a chance. I am Mister Edith. don't talk much. Not at all like the missus. But I got lots to say too, even if you do not know my first or last name. 

My folks been here since the beginning. Saw that 'devil' get born. The first one, I mean. And that was seventeen thirty five. Ain't been farmers. Can't grow no crops in these here woods. Lot a fish though... fresh water.... sorta kinda salt water. Some look like what you seen. Some look like what you ain't. Some got scales like copper. Some got teeth like nails. Whole lot a funny stuff get borned here. Thick trees... pines... oaks.... real old primeval type, ain't never been put in books. Dense like fur on a beaver belly. Got lot a little baby rivers in here too. Mos' got finger-eatin' snappin' turtles. Other stuff too, if you go skinny dippin'. 

Got that secret cave where the Talk-to-God man sleep... and the 'livin' grave' down below. It really a deep cave.... a hidey-hole down a long, skinny old volcanic chute. But nobody ever come back up. Ever once in a while, them Red Paint folks go crazy and have a 'throwin' 'o the bones. They say they had one a few years back. But it very horrible, so they not likely to do it any time soon. If you wanna know what it like, go read what they used to do to folks in 'the brazen bull.' Red Paint folks ain't regular 'Pineys.' They something else. They even older.... like the first Indians.  I do not know who these individuals are, but them that do say most Red Paint men favor Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the star ship Enterprise. And most of the women folk look like famed United States, Olympic  skier, Peekaboo Street. 'Cept Red Paints tend to be quiet-like and reticent. Call 'em 'Red Paints' 'cause early burials got lot a red powder throwed in. Professor types say they come from Europe. But I don't know where that is. 

My wife, Edith, comin' tonight. An' she bringin' them life-eaters in with her. They all right. Think we got some a what they call elferinos and elferinas wrigglin' through the woods already. 'Wood sprites' we call 'em.

Got a little hamlet, where we live. Not all of us. Jus' our band. It called Jubilee. Few cabins... Not made wit' logs, though... They plank built. We jus' call 'em that. Got a meetin' house, for talk-to-God stuff. Got a store for syrup and possum grease and, I don't know, all kinds a crap. One day they had 'magic beans.' But they was just dried up, human pituitary glands. Undertaker taught us that word. 

Root cellars all swept out for them life-eaters. Got tables down there. Got cots. Got quilts. Little lanterns... kind you gotta light. Old squeeze box. I cannot recollect if they like music. But I thought I'd be prepared. 

Piney kids all hepped up over it. They like life-eaters. Go wood-runnin' with 'em in the dark. Pin Head Mel all excited. Horsey Skeezix whinny all over the place. He a mostly tame, Jersey Devil kid. They not like what you see in books. More like old Greek satyrs or fauns, 'cept the fur not jus' down below. It go all over. But startin' maybe two or three inches below the navel it get real soft and short, like what a horse got. Look like they got gold skin. Some got auburn 'skin' too. Faces look wild, though. Little bit horsey, but not that much. Mane run down the spine. They mighty proud a that. Mighty proud a they tails too,

Come back tomorrow night, after they get here and settle in. I'll show you to the ghosts.

I do not know how these words appear on your screen. All I do is think 'em. 

Some other goomer mus' be tappin' 'em in...

Nitey night. I like it out here on the porch...... Shhhhh, lemme listen to the trees...
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EDITH, A VAMPIRE FAMILIAR SHARES SOME WISDOM

This is Edith. I'm sitting on the porch of a snug, little,clapboard, farmhouse deep in the Jersey Pines. It's dark. It's damp. It's chilly. My kind a weather. Could stay out here for hours, just rockin' back and forth, listening to the whispering mist. Got a hand knit sofa throw over me to keep warm. Thought I heard a 'devil,' a Jersey Devil, shuffling through the brush a few minutes ago. Smelled like a female. I got a sharp honker. I can pick up those things. Bud, my husband (yeah, I know. I never spoke of him) is inside clickin' back and forth between some baseball game and a decorating program on HGTV. I can hear it. 'The transformation is nearly complete.' Boy, I wish it was that easy. Am I gonna go back to the place in Chestnut Hill? Well, yeah, I guess so. Only sometimes I need the quiet, old timey silence of The Pines. Juices me up a little. Gets the magic flowing.

I know what Jonathon and the others are trying to do in Jerusalem. Papa tells me. I pick up things on my own. And they are sincere. And they do believe in the basic goodness of humanity. But I know folks who believe in Santy Claus and they still gotta fork over two dollars and ninety-nine cents every time they chew on an el cheapo meal from Burger King. Santy Klaus ain't never once opened his wallet. So you will have to excuse me. I have grown a bit cynical where religion is concerned. Not that I doubt the existance of God, but I'd like to see Him pick up a check every once in a while. And then you know what's funny? A little later, when I go inside to sleep, when I lie down in bed and get all comfy, I'm still gonna say my prayers. Not out loud. Not  so anybody'd hear them. Bud snores anyway. And those Red Paint guys we got squattin' down the cellar got their own kind a heebie-geebie business going on. They dont care what I believe. No, I take that back. they do care IF I believe, just not about all the razzle-dazzle, glitz and tassles I tie all over it. Maybe they should go over to the Middle East. and not just the Middle East too, if you know what I mean.

'Beauty is as beauty does.' That's what my mom always said. And she could fry an egg just by lookin' at it. She was a hum-dinger of a pow-wow woman. She knew lots a stuff. She was right. It ain't hard. All's we gotta do is start doin' beautiful stuff. Brighten the corner where you are. I suppose that puts me in the 'micro' minded camp with Baylah. But, then again.....I ain't in Jerusalem.

You know that dream is still goin' 'round. The one about 'I am the Unity...,' I mean . Trouble is.....some folks think it's a nightmare. They like their biases and they ain't ready to give 'em up.....

Now, be quiet. Don't make any noise. Maybe that little Jersey Devil filly will come back.....And after the summer we had....don't that cool air feel nice......'Potential.' The people inside  on HGTV are talkin' about potential.. I can hear 'em...Yeah, well....we got a lot a that.....
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