A BALM FOR THE SENSES

The door to the medium sized chamber opened and Doctor Franklin rolled in, followed by two sturdy orderlies. He stopped just short of the sobbing immortal and said - Come, my boy. We will get her back. I promise you that we will......The orderlies kneeled down to help Jonathon get up, but he roughly shook them off......He cried - I don't want to go with you. I want to stay here. Leave me alone.......They tried again, yet had to stop, for the vampire could hurt them. Not that he wanted to. Not that he planned to. It's just that he can't controll his own strength. So Doctor Franklin called for some blankets and prepared to spend the night locked in the room with a heartsick life-eater and his 'dead' family. The orderlies draped the warm covers over Jonathon. They lifted the wily, old scientist up out of his chariot and placed him down on a large, comfy chair carried in for that purpose. Then they tucked him in too. He had a catheter bag strapped to his thigh so he would not need to go  pee during the night. The orderlies left. The door was closed and the vampire and the three hundred and four year old human were sealed in till morning. But that term had no meaning here, in this subterranean space. To the mole folk (who survived their night with the cops and were now safely returned to their much missed surroundings) it would have been Nirvana. All was silent, save for the weak, small drone of the ventilator. All was dark, save for the minute illumination eminating from some tiny, security bulbs.  Jonathon remained where he was. He started  to intone the prayer for the peaceful repose of the soul. He said - Yit-ga-dahl, ve-yit-ka-dash...Shemay-Rabah....( Magnified and Sanctified be the name of The Lord...) and he continued till he was through......Doctor Franklin said - Amen.....All was quiet for a heartbeat or two, till the doctor continued..... I know that prayer well, my boy- he said. I used to sing it at Mikveh Israel. You remember that prayer house, don't you?.......Jonathon sniffed and nodded......The old man went on - I prayed everywhere, with the Anglicans, with the Methodists, and with the Jews. There weren't too many Catholics in my time (he laughed) or what's supposed to have been my time. But I prayed later with them as well. And lately, I've even answered the call at a mosque or two. And you know what?.........Jonathon sobbed - What?......I believe it all. And I believe the Buddists. And I believe the Hindus. And I believe the B'hai's. And who else do you want to ad to that list? What difference does it make? You know what old,Rabbi De Solis taught. The righteous of all groups shall share in The World To Come. And you can't tell me that a spiritual creature such as youself, doesn't believe that. We'll bring her back. We'll bring them back. - whispered the doctor........He looked down at the eightteen year old body encasing the thousand year old soul. The 'boy' drifted off to sleep. And the Doctor whispered - And if we can't bring them back...we'll pray for them...Thus they spent the night....But unbeknownst to them, Sarah heard it all...........

JONATHON PLAYS DOCTOR

There were lots of closets in this place. Lots of storage rooms too. Most of the staff wasn't really familiar with them all. So it wasn't to hard for the young doctorix to find a spot where she and her star patient could be toether.  The lights in the passageways were dimmed in the evening. No one could see out. There were no windows for security reasons. And besides, most levels were underground. Did the 'boss,' did Doctor Franklin know what was going on ? He might have. But come on. You all know how he is. Didn't they teach you that in high school and college? Didn't you learn about him and the comely young matrons of France? Yes, the matrons. It was easier for a married woman to 'play games' in those days, for she could almost always pass off any buns baking in her oven as works of the resident baker. It was the maidens who had to be careful, especially the ones with lofty prospects. They could be ruined. So Little Miss Medicine took Jonathon out of his 'cage.' She covered him up in one of the emerald green Eagles sweatsuits they had coming out their ears at this joint. True, some of other staffers did recognize him, but what did they care? He still wore the discipline collar. They all carried one of those small 'fobs.' Anyone could 'turn on the heat.' He wasn't about to try anything. It's not like they didn't do similar things with some of the other inmates themselves. And considering the wide variety of clientele they had staying here, some of those staffers were not too particular. The room was comfortable enough. It was a small storeage space for papers and forms mostly. There was a little desk, a chair and a worn, high-gloss, green leather sofa. Typical government issue. Look, I'm not going to give  you all the details. Remember, I was there when The Bible was canonized. I knew the people who knew the people, if you want to know the truth. Yeah, they have some soft core stuff in The Scriptures. But don't look at me (as if you could) I didn't write it. So here goes. Jonathos wasn't naked. He did have on that collar. And his companion for the evening was like-wise demure, for she retained most of her attire  too. Only it was all scrunched up. The 'top' was unbuttoned and all scrunched down around her waist. Her tastefully matching skirt was arranged in a similar manner, rolled up over her thighs and bunched up just about at the level of her navel. The florescent overhead light was on a dimmer switch. So everything had a dark, purplish-blue hue to it. Not very flattering for the human girl. But I don't think the vampire cared one way or the other. They played a rough game of 'hound and rabbit.' That's what folks called it along the shores of The Levant back in my time. Push-push, rub-rub, slap-slap, pinch-pinch. You want me to say this a few more times? Because it took a while. Remember, we're dealing with a vampire here, not to mention a girl well versed  in shall we say, human sensitive areas. So when it was finished. When the game was over, they disengaged, prettied themselves up annd talked for a while. Lucky for her, modern clothmakers had mastered the art of crinkle-proof garments. That green sweatsuit was folded up on a chair good as new. So he didn't have to worry about a thing. But Jonathon detected a rather strange frequency wafting up from his 'friend's' body. She was guilty about something. He said - What is it? What troubles you?.......She said - You can tell? You can really tell?.......He said - Come on. You know what I am. There's a gentleman one level up agonizing over how he's going to manage to sneak the state of the art computer out of his office and into his car. Another person, down this very passage, has enabled other less intellectual thinking devices in the payroll department to issue her a check for ten thousand dollars. You want me to go on?..... No - she said. It's about Sarah.........He tensed. What? What about Sarah? ........... She answered - We've got her. We have her here. And the other ones too.............How? Where? - he cried.....Don't you know? - she said...........No. Not when I'm upset. Not when I'm nervous. Tell me. Don't play with me...........She knew it was against the rules, but she told him - We  found the hiding place, the cellar or whatever it was where Papa took them. How he did it, I do not know. But Franklin found out. He knows a lot about your maker. He's been dealing with vampires and other 'exotic specimens' for centuries. He knows just about everything........And? - said Jonathon. Where are they?.........Come on. I'll take you - answered the lover. So they got up off the sqeaky sofa. Did a little bit here and there to tidy up the joint and left..... She led the way through maze-like corridors and up and down countless staircases till they came to a door.......In there - she whispered. But I can't open it. My 'fob' won't work and I don't have a key.........He said - And you think that's supposed to stop me?.......Then he turned, inhaled, wiped a tear from his eye, stepped back, pulled himself together and sublimated right through the door. The  young doctor gasped, for she had never seen the like before...... The room was medium sized and lit by small 'security' lights. Metal cabinets lined the far wall. There was no furniture. Someone had laid statues all about the cold, tiled floor. They were arranged in no particular order, like architectural 'findings' delivered to a construction site for future finishing and eventual installation. He got down and crawled among them. Here was Albion, the elf lord, along with the others of his kind. And plump, scared cherubs held court around them. Each seemingly made of the same, fine, gritty, grayish stone. Sarah lay off to the side, like an angel or a French Marianne, created for the place of honor on some fine, public building. A beaux arts maiden, waiting for her perch. He laid down beside her, put his arms around her and cried. And he stayed that way till Doctor Franklin came to find him.......

A CONSULTATION WITH THE DOCTOR

The eerie tones of the musical apparatus continued throughout the evening. At least Jonathon supposed it was evening. There were no windows in this vast enclosure. That did not surprise him. He was a valuable specimen. His captors would not allow him to come to any harm. Not yet anyway. Who knew what would happen when their 'study' ended? He might be rendered down and distilled into some sort of elixir. One of the Louis' in France did that to his court vampire. Dabbed it behind their ears, I think they did. No benefit, except for the gentleman who sold it. Parisian noblewomen paid dearly for the tiniest flacons of the pale, ruby fluid.  Called it Eau de la Font, water of the fountain, the fountain of youth. But they still crossed over into death at their regularly appointed times. So much for guarantees. A bit later, after a particularly appealing crescendo, the ghostly music stopped. And then it was quiet, very quiet. Jonathon would know such things. He had vampiric hearing after all. But no sound came to him. He searched. He tried. He struggled to pick up the slightest vibration. But nothing. And he laid there, lulled almost to the brink of sleep by the soft, rocking motion of his invisible spider web. Was it due to his own contortions, or simply a programmed function of the magnetic field? Who cared. It was comforting. Subsequently, from somewhere near the fringes of consciousness, he detected a tiny, electric whine. After a few heartbeats, it started to grow louder. He recognized it as Franklin's vehicle and was not startled in the least when the door to the great room opened  and the venerable scientist rolled in........ Jonathon? Are you awake, my boy? - said Doctor Franklin......He rolled right over to the outside edge of the 'field' and stopped. Jonathon sniffed. His throat was a bit hoarse. Yes, life-eaters can get hoarse. but he still managed to cough out a response...........Yes, sir. I am awake. To what do I owe this thoughtful visit? - said the vampire.......Why I could do no less. - whispered Franklin.......He rummaged in the pocket of his sweat suit and pulled out a little 'ivory' egg. Jonathon's vision enabled him to see such things. True, the general aura was still dim, but he could make out the basics. The doctor began to roll the egg around in his hands. After a few moments it began to glow , till the old man's face (how old, still a question open for discussion) was bathed in an undulating, milky light. .....Please forgive our rude behavior, about your nakedness, I mean. But certain great thinkers among us feel that extraneous objects might interfear  with the field. I'll see what I can do to remedy the situation in the morning. - said Benjamin Franklin.....Jonathon only managed a weak nod. It was still difficult for him to pull against his electronic restraints.........When did we last meet? - crooned the doctor..........How long ago was it? - he said.........No, no , no, you do not have to answer. I understand how hard that is for you. - smiled Franklin.........But quite a nifty trick, isn't it? I like that devise. It's one of my favorites..........But Jonathon  interrupted. He said - Where are we? Where is this place? I smell water. Are we near the river?.......Hush, hush, hush - said the old man. You will learn all things in good time. But first, perform a small favor for me.......Jonathon did not ask what iit was. He knew what humans, certain humans, especially the older ones, wanted. And he just surrendered, letting it happen. The old man giggled, as he played with a small, plastic, rectangular piece of eguipement. He tapped a few buttons. From somewhere in the darkness a few small, metal drones appeared. They looked different than the first one, the one that cut his skin. These flew into the field (there were three of them) and settled onto his person. One upon his shoulder. Another on his hip. The third on the thigh. Doctor Franklin clapped his hands and tiny needles sprang out from each of them, siphoning off a bit of blood, which they stored in small, stainless  vials. The doctor clapped again and it was over. The needles retracted and the drones flew off........The old man said - Clap on, clap off, the clapper. That was one of mine too. I believe I'll sip them in the privacy of my quarters. They know the way.........Then he switched on the chair and rolled out, leaving Jonathon in the darkness once again..........

THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES (or sometimes, the discs)

Jonathon had been let out of the box. The 'puppet show' was over for the time being. He sat at a small table up against the wall of the vast chamber and conversed with the young doctor. He said - Hadleigh? Bailey? A bit heavy on the 'E' sound aren't we?......She said - That's not my real name. I have a lot of name tags. I got 'em in a box. Every morning I just grab one. People expext it. They bring 'em through here for a peek at the magic, politicians and military types I mean, and we gotta look the part. Not just them. You know we deal with all kinds here. It's a regular, Star Wars bar scene, no offense......Their heads come together and they kiss......He says - None taken. Where are we?.......She - Can't tell......He - Well, Doctor Franklin is here, so we must still be sommewhere in  the city?......She - Really, you think so?.......He - I would suppose so.....She - Then you don't know Dr. Franklin.....(he waits for more).....She ads - Let's just say that the wily fox manages to cover quite a bit of territory.......He - How?......She's about to respond, when a nearby portal opens and one of the anti-enchantment agents  enters, taking up position a few yards away. He adopts a threatening stance, arms crossed, feet squarely planted. You get the picture, real 'cop 101'......(see, Zebulon picks up things). The doctor can see him. He's right in her line of sight. Now Jonathon could theoretically sublimate right through him. That would be it, nothing left but thousands of minute, bloody morsels (bones included) splashing down onto the immaculate, shiny floor. But you know, who wants trouble? So they both shut up. Jonathon nods. He understands......He ads - Please tell me, who do I have to thank for this outfit? She smiles. He sports a well pressed, dapper set of fatigues, military all the way, except for his long, wavy dark locks........She - We're a governmental agency. Thank 'Uncle Sam.'........He yells out into the air - Thank you, Uncle Sam!!!.....His voice echos in the immense, white, windowless, clinical space. Other agents run in, weapons drawn. They look to Agent 1. He just shakes his head and they depart.......Jonathon and the young doctor laugh. She goes back to eating her sandwich. He studies every move, how she chews, how she swallows......She - Are you hungry? I mean, do you 'need' anything?......He - No, I can go for a month......She - And then?........He - Then I have to 'cull' somebody.......She - Cull?......He - Kill, kill them. I'm trying to be nice about it. Look, haven't they been working with captured vampires for years? Don't they know? Don't you know?.........She - We know. It's just that I've never seen it. Can I see it? I mean when you 'cull' someone........He (playfully) - And who would that be?.........She - We have prisoners. Human ones I mean. Bad guys. You know the drill.........He - I invented that drill. But let me ask you something. Will I be here that long? For a month, I mean......The agent shoots her a look. Jonathon picks up on it. She doesn't respond. The agent approaches. His heavy shoes resonate on the floor. He comes up beside her and whispers in her ear - It's time. You're needed on 'Level 4.'........ She nods, looks into Jonathon's eyes, throws out her lunch mess and exits........ The agent says - OK, 'sunshine,' back in the cage........Jonathon hesitates. The agent (enhanced with various cerebral chips) focuses on the metal collar around the vampire's neck. We hear a low, electronic hum, as it instantly heats up. Jonathon screams. The agent snaps his fingers and points toward the center of the huge room. Jonathon quickly crosses over the red line painted on the metallic floor annd takes up  position inside the 'box.'.....The agent gows impatient and growls - Gimme the uniform.....Jonathon takes it off and tosses it over. The agent kicks it toward the door. Then he turns on the magnetic field and Jonathon is suspended once more. But he screams - The collar! The collar! The magnets! It's heating up again!! He struggles to reach it. The agent watches him suffer for a few heartbeats. Then he refocuses on the heavy collar, causing it to instantly click open and clatter down to the floor. He holds out his hand, as it rapidly slides across the glossy surface and jumps up into the air, where he smartly grabs it. Jonathon catches his breath. The agent says - We got tricks too, 'sunshine.' Then he turns, snaps out the lights and leaves. The difuse light from up above reawakens, creating a column of weak, watery illumination in an otherwise pitch black chamber.......Jonathon exhales. His muscles relax........And from somewhere deep within this unknown complex, he hears a sound, as someone 'plays' a haunting melody upon an old, mysterious, crystal 'armonica.' This ancient devise, developed (or discovered) by Doctor Franklin before the Revolution has long been rumored to possess many .........But look, Zebulon is distracted. Search for it on the Google thing. They will tell you want you want to know.....

AN OLDIE BUT A 'GOODY'

Jonathon has been let out of the box. He's still in the same chamber, only not suspended anymore. The 'puppet show' (for the time being) is over. He sits at a table, conversing with the young doctor....Jonathon - Hadleigh? Bailey? A

MEMORIES OF THE PAST

Jonathon felt himself shifting. He was pivoting around a magnetic center point. They could do that. They could control him and change his position by adjusting the electron field. His eyes were opened now He could see as well as hear. There was a finely made young thing out there in the shadows. Her hair was tied back into a no nonsense bun and her lab coat was particularly white and crisp. She studied him with a cold dispatch, just like a microbe on a slide. From time to time she'd tap something out onto a keyboard and certain vapors would be added to his chamber. Then she'd observe his reactions and whisper something into a recorder, all quite clinical. One substance had an immediate effect. It excited him. And she noticed. She stared. It took her about twelve or thirteen heartbeats till she refocused and whispered something into her machine. Jonathon smiled at her. She swallowed and pretended not to see. But she saw. The light coming down from above grew just a tiny bit brighter. And she pushed the cart bearing her equipement just a tiny bit closer to his 'cage'. He spoke. He said - I am called Jonathon. What is your name?.......She did not answer......He said - I am no demon. This is not an exorcism. You may address me. You may use my name....This time she smiled. He could see it. Just a little one, but it was there. He focused on her name tag. God bless his vampiric vision. It said - Dr. Hadleigh Bailey. Jonathon said - How should I address you? Are you Doctor Bailey, or are you Lady Hadleigh?.....She laughed, a small laugh, more like an audible smile. He smiled back, attempting to nod his head in a chivalrous salute, but the electron field made it extremely difficult to do so. The doctor went back to playing with her buttons and he just hung there, waiting for their next interaction......Some time passed. New aromas and substances trickled into his presence. A shiny,little drone hummed its way down from the darkness, landed on his buttock and bit off an ever so tiny piece of his skin. Then it tucked this  precious cargo into a small slot, as it hummed its way back up into the void. Apparently, it was able to escape the magnetic field, for he saw it slowly fly over to his jailer and  come down for a soft landing right into the palm of her hand. She snapped open the lid and sniffed the contents. Then she closed it and put the drone into a drawer on the cart. Jonathon said - I hope it was to your liking?.......She smiled. And this time she spoke. She said - We shall see. We shall see. .... The doctor came closer. She stopped at what he assumed was the beginning of the field. She was about to speak. Her eyes looked different. She wanted to tell him something. But it was too late, for from somewhere in the shadows, he heard another voice. It said - Now, now, Tomas. Are you attempting to 'worm' your way into the good graces of my assistant?.....Jonathon felt the breath catch in his throat. He knew that voice. It had to belong to somebody who knew him as Tomas. An old friend perhaps? Someone from long ago? Who?......And then he found out. One of those electronic scooters, of the type used by humans in their dotage, rolled out of the darkness and into the light. And seated upon it was an old gentleman. He seemed to be approximately eighty or eighty five years old. His wispy hair was long and pulled back like some passed his prime rock promoter. Small glasses rested upon his nose. He wore a bright green, Philadelphia Eagles sweatsuit. The cunning, little vehicle rolled its way up to the edge of the field. The old man motioned towards the young Dr. Bailey and she lowered her head and left. Then he spoke again. He said - Well, Tomas, it has been quite a long time. Hasn't it?......... Jonathon (often known as Tomas) looked into the aged, jowly face and whispered - Can this be? Doctor Franklin? Is that you?......But the old reprobate only chuckled, as he turned around and rolled away......

EL RIO VAMPIRISMO

Thus flows the river of vampirism, at least in these parts. The human retainers are snug in their Jersey Pines refuge. Baylah still holds court with her rich 'husband' at the shore. Sarah and the 'children' (the elves and cherubs) lie suspended in their nebulous limbo, prisoners of the mysterious 'Papa.' But Annie, the six year old child vampire (one who should have made common cause with the younger elves) enjoyed her new existance as Papa's favored princess. Their lodgings deep within the bowels of the University Museum on 34th Street had been somewhat enlarged and beautified. There was an old bed in storage. I believe it once belonged to the spoiled daughter of a Roman noble. Annie liked it. Just like Goldie-Locks, she knew it would be just right for her. So some of their new 'familiars' dragged it out, dusted it off and set it up in another little  used space that opened onto their lair. Other what-nots and gee-gaws followed, till the chamber glowed like a robber's den. She loved it. And if she loved it, Papa loved it. They still went out every night, ripping people apart, stealing bling from burnt up corpses and in general just having a grand old time. Papa would tell her stories as they strolled through the city, or rode in their shiny, black car. He shared tales of his life long ago. Being privy to such tales was like witnessing the arc of all human (and not so human) history. She heard of mammoth hunts on the frozen plains of an ice-age Europe. And arcane rites performed deep within the torturous caverns buried under the fertile woodlands of some dark, rich forest. Papa was the Blood Lord then, a revered seer, who shepherded his tribe through the centuries with a wisdom gained over millennia. He saw things, strange things now unknown to every other soul upon the earth. The thickset, sturdy ones, the gnomes and trolls of the mountains, the ones we now call Neanderthals, were his neighbors. And he became adept at their method of communication, built on melodious trills, simple words and fluid gestures, heavily leavened with a layer of telepathy. To us, it would be magic. To them it was only natural. They hunted the great aurochs (or-ox) a massive, ivory colored bovine standing seven feet high at the shoulders and with horns like Odin's spears. Papa would go out with them, if the hunts were by the moon. He'd race over the plains, vaulting through the air and landing secure upon the back of the giant beast. Gragging hold of the horns, he'd lean forward and give it a little nip, just a bit, right on the neck, to show it who's boss. And it would slow down, snort a few times and begin to circle. The mortals would eventually catch up and reverently surrounnd it. Then they'd offer it bunches of fragrant grass, spiced with certain compounds known to bring on a type of sleepy euphoria. The beast would lay down. Papa would slide off its back, join the others and lead them in a few prayers designed to thank the gods for opening up their larder. One by one, they'd approach the animal and with sharp, flint blades slash practiced cuts deep into its hide. The blood would flow. The great, watery eyes rolled back, as the noble aurochs passed over into the spirit world. Then they'd howl like wolves. And the women who were with them (some, hunters in their own right) rushed forward to begin butchering the dead carcass. After a while, Papa would lead them back to the village, accompanied by haunting melodies issuing forth from an assortment of horn flutes and simple drums. thus was the creation of human culture. And he was there for it all. At times, when the stories were over, he'd think about Jonathon and discover that his hatred was beginning to temper. It was beginning to lessen. He was free now. That pain, at least, was over. and he was starting to mourn the 'loss' of his son. He suffered feelings of contrition about his treatment of Sarah and the children. Who knows? Maybe some night he'd do something about it. To lessen the pain, he'd drop Annie off (she loved poking about in the museum) and then go ravish some waiting beauty alone in her carefully decorated apartment. Lately he'd been allowing them to survive. I guess that's a sign. I guess he's beginning to mellow.........