SPRINGTIME WITH THE WEIRDOS

The monkey got away. They couldn't control him. Doctor Franklin had chips and wires all over him. But it didn't do any good. Some signal played around with their signal and the whole thing went ka-blooey. Later, they traced it to some kid in Winslow Township with a faulty X-Box 360. So they couldn't shock the killer monkey. They couldn't make him feel like he was choking. And he just had a ball. Pulverized that poor guy from the 'criminal' pool. Drained him dry. Ripped him to shreads. Feed the guts to some raccoons. Did a dance. What do you want me to tell you? He did it all. Then he runs so far to the south, he comes to that little road that connects Route 73 to The Black Horse Pike. You know, the one that's covered with trees and all. It's got some houses, maybe a convenience store or two, but mostly trees. He's screamin'. His chimp muzzle is all red and bloody. Pulled his pants off. Wouldn't wear clothes. Couldn't keep nothing on him. Swinging from the trees. That's what he was doing, swinginng from the trees. This family sees him. They were heading down to Ocean City. The kids were sleepinng in the back. Mom starts screaming - The Jersey Devil! The Jersey Devil! Dad has a minor heart attack (that's what the medics said). Plows the Honda into a tree. Air bags go off. Some drunk guy runs out of a farm house with his pit bull and a gun. He starts shooting at it. The killer, vampire monkey, I mean. But it flips him a 'kiss my ass' sign. They taught him that at the Bureau.  Then it just tears off back the way it came and disappears. Internet lights up. TV stations jump on it. The drunk and his dog are local celebrities. No, really. They're gonna be on The Today Show or something. I think the wife is gonna go with him. The husband's still laid up. The kids, I don't know about. Oh, they're OK. I'm talkin' 'bout goin' on the show, I mean. Franklin and the Bureau call Luna. She's that new vampire who used to work for them. They got her all hooked up. But she don't know it. They ask her to get some of her new friends out there. I mean nobody wants an actual vampire, even an ape one, to fall into questionable hands. Jeeze, could you imagine if Al-Quida got hold of one? So the vampires go running over to Jersey. Not the elves. They stayed home with the little ones. Edith went with the vampires. Most of the Red Paint people did too. Because they're all from around there. I think Charles stayed back. And wilkravitz is there. But the rest? They're out playing Smokey and the Bandit. Oh, yeah, and Annie, we don't know where she is. That little thing ran off somewhere. But I got a funny feeling she winds up at the zoo, probably tryin' to kill an animal or something. Hope a polar bear knocks her head right off. One swipe. Just one big swipe. Teach that little bastid a lesson.

And gettin' back to personal matters, lovey-dovey matters, Roland is all quiet. Even for an elf kid. He's all messed up over what happened between him and Luna. Lucky she had to leave for a night or two. The Bureau says they got these 'dark' vans where they can hole up during the day. I'm glad she's gone. He tries to explain it all to Albion and the two elf girls. But they basically have brains like kids, sixteenth century kids, and they don't really understand. Boy, talk about corrupting a minor. Shows you can be over fourhundred years old and still be a baby. We'll have to see how this one-night-romance thing plays out. Maybe Papa can like banish the memory or something.

Oh, getting back to the others, Baylah didn't go. She didn't get the call...BUT, she did call here after the others left. Seems Johnny Jump Up was sauntering down the street right passed her place just before dawn. She saw him. She looked right through the drapes. Six inches away he was. But he made like he didn't even see her and he just kept bouncing along. Only his fingernails looked bloody. That, she could see........

Springtime with the weirdos....But we ain't weird....I'm just saying what regular people would think.......Zebulon the Great...signing off...

SCIENCE AND MAGIC...IN THE WONDERLAND

Roland will finish his story soon. But sommething came up and I want to tell you about it. Doctor Franklin and the guys at the Bureau have been doing some experiments on J. Fred Muggs, the killer, vampire chimpanzee. It appears that he needs a 'kill' on the average of once a week. They gave him victims from the criminal cache they keep for such purposes. Only it's not the same. He's like an animal. OK. OK. he is an animal. And apparently he has to hunt. He craves it. Without the chase, he grows lethargic and depressed. So they've been driving him out to remote sections of the Jersey Pine Barrens, just a few miles further out from where Edith and the Red Paints are from. There ain't no 'Devils' (Jersey Devils, I mean) around there, so they don't have to worry about him depleting a threatened species or anything. He still winds up with one of the guys from the criminal cache. They truck one out, kick him in the ass and let him loose. But  first they tag him with this little camera. Muggs is all wired up too. Then its 'release the hounds!' And they sit back and watch. No one has ever studied a vampire like this. Sure, he's only 99% the same as a human vampire. But beggars can't be chosers. Some monitors record vital signs, body temerature, brain waves, physical arousal, everything. So far it all looks quite natural. He reacts just like any other large predator. We still can't tell if he hones in on scent, or sound, or something else. It's exciting. Papa went once. This means a lot to him. Remember, what we call organized religion happened when he was already over twentythousand years old. Sure, his people were reverent and observant in their own way. That's why they sent him out to bring back a life-eater. But nobody back then was as dogmatic as most groups get today. So Papa's always had his doubts. Jonathon doesn't. He don't work that way. It's a 'call.' He got it from Heaven. It's a job. God wants it. That's it.  Me? I don't know. Sure, I'm a disembodied spirit. Yeah, I've been allowed to peek into Heaven a few times. But don't ask me who built the place. What? You wanna know if I've ever felt the presence of God? Well, I think I did. I hope that's what it was. But I don't know. Look, what I know and what I believe are two different things. Sometimes three different things. So we're gonna have to see how this all plays out. And even then, all we're gonna know is a little more about the fundamentals of vampirism. Can you imagine the PBS special they'll make out of this one!? Little kids would watch it. They'd yell - Mom! Can I become a vampire when I grow up?..........Mom yells back - Sure, just so you go to med school first!.........Well, Zebulon don't see any contradiction in that.....Now getting back to Muggs. When he drains the blood, it all goes into his stomach, just like normal food would. Only it don't futz out his ass and turn into vampire turds. He wears these special diapers. They'd know. What happens is, it fizzes up and eventually disappears into nothing. They're pretty sure his body absorbs moisture from it. But that's all they know. Franklin wants to hook up one of the human vampires. So far he's got no takers. Not even Luna and she grew up with him. Oh, yeah, something else. A guy at the bureau has this plan. He wants to use Muggs to  take care of Johnny Jump Up. He thinks Muggs could kill him in a 'fair' fight. Can you imagine, a 'fair' fight between a killer monkey and a zombie-like, anorexic corpse? Man, which cable network gonna pay for the rights to that one?! J.J.U. has been a bit quieter though. Edith says it's little Mary French doing it. You know, that little cherub baby he killed. She says her soul is calming him. I don't know. I pray to God (I hope it's God) she's right.....Look, Roland wants to finish his story. He's a good boy. You should see him playing Tickle Me Elmo with the cherubs. They love that doll. Could play with if for hours. I'm gonna go 'poof!' inside his brain and call him over. Charlie, the Red Paint guy can fill in with the little ones.......

It is I, Roland. I appreciate this opportunity to communicate with you once more, praise The Lord...All would have been well with my sister and I, for we soon learned to forsake the regular travellers and focus on the outlaws, of which there were many. Our habits became tied to the full moon. We killed but once each month. Well, once each lunar month to be exact. And our needs were met. I'm sure there are still others like us inhabiting remote forests all over the world. But theives knew of our cave. In the past, some of them used it to hide treasure. And some of them came back. They crawled through the twisting, narrow passages, coming upon us as we slept. You might think a vampire would wake up at the slightest stimulation. But we were children. We were innocent. We were tired, so we slept. The theives, being wise to the ways of the underworld, knew us for what we were. And in an effort to gain favor with the mayor of a nearby town, not to mention the bishop, they informed on us. That night when we got up to go on our rounds, they caught us. There were dozens of them. They waved torches. They swung clubs annd jabbed with swords. Now today I know about sublimation. I know about flying. I feel my powers. But this was back during our first weeks. We knew nothing. So we cried. We curled up on the ground protecting our wounds. Fawns brought down by wolves. They bound us in chains. Two heavy, iron chests were dragged out. They threw me into one and my sister into the other. We cried. We begged. We pleaded with them not to seperate us. But they just laughed. I never found out what happened to my sister. And I don't know where they took me, or how long I was in there. The monthly hunger came and went. My body grew weaker. But I could not die. Now it seems there were other vampire round ups,  young ones, elves like me, I mean. And a few others were jammed into the chest with me. They hoisted us up onto a strong waggon and drove  to a jagged, rocky cliff, where they hurled us over into the cold, churning sea far below. The currents brought us out into the depths. Could we drown? No. But it still hurts when your lungs fill up with salt. My companions tried to pray. That did not last long. For a soothing spiritual balm began to settle upon us, wrapping each in pleasant memories and dreams. Now the princes of the sea, the great whales, sensed our presence. And they patiently nudged us along until we washed up upon a New World coast.....But I still never found my sister........

ROLAND'S TALE

So Luna coupled with Roland. Papa did not care. What is that to him, save yet another sensation? It's like a human who eats strawberries and then gorges on chocolate. Do the strawberries hate the chocolate? That's how he felt. After all, it's not as if he hasn't eaten a lot of chocolate in his time. He took her by the hand, undressed her and threw her in the 'resting' cabinet. Then he jumped in to join her. Enough said. But Roland was changed by the experience. It brought back memories of a time when he was close with other mortals. He recalled the days of his 'human' life, for the physical sensation of intimacy is very much the same for both the living and the 'dead.' He remembered a place in old Normandy. Some sort of plague had just blown through, transforming half the populace into fly food. His mama and papa were gone. One elder brother was off fighting for the Duc and really not much more than a slave. Another chanted prayers in a monastery far away. Only his sister was left. She tried to run the shop. She tried to sell the cloth. But it was hard. Who could she buy from? Plague eats weavers too, you know. And little by little, they starved. Oh, there was a small vegetable garden out back, but it was not enough. And those even worse off pilfered what little grew there. Maybe they would set off for the monastery? Maybe the brother could do something for them? But sixteenth century highways were dangerous, indeed, not much more than glorified foot paths. And cut throats fell from the trees. Yet what choice did they have? So one day, after attending mass and visiting the communal graves, they set off. Some pilgrims rode on horseback, or reclined in stout carts. But Roland and his older sister, Clothilde, just walked. Their few possessions were lovingly packed into small bundles and carried upon their backs. It was said poor travelers could live on the crab apples growing along the way, plus the occasional roasted squirrel. Well they were as poor as any, so squirrel it would be. He had a knife and she had two rigid hat pins. They had no other weapons. But what brigand would set his sight on prey as low as them?  Such innocent souls they were...So unknowing...Outlaws hunger for many things.

Now there came a night when they stopped to rest under a thick bush. It appeared safe. Who could see them there? They had the remnants of a fat, charred rabbit and a half filled water skin from a nearby brook. So they layed down their burdens, carefully nibbling at the food and sipping the drink. Then they wandered off to pee and slept. All seemed peaceful under the soft, weak light of a clear, half moon. But later, at the hour when their monk brother droned cold, night prayers in a chapel far away, a stranger came upon  them. He was sleek and fit, untouched by the plague, for he moved through the shadowy darkness with the grace of a weasel. It was their night breath gave them away. Not quite a snore, but loud enough. Besides, scent alone was enough for this one. For he carried a magical burden, one he cared to share. Clothilde felt the hand press against her mouth. She opened her eyes, half expecting it to be her brother warning her about some approaching danger. But then she saw the evil smile and felt the kiss of the knife as it tickled her throat. She heard his whisper. He said - Shhhh...no noise, or the boy will die..... So she was quiet and let him drag her off. She said prayers. She visualized the saints. She visualized the Lord in Heaven. She did all she could to push the ordeal away from her. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. She bit her lip. It bled.....Maybe that was a mistake, for her possessor chuckled and said - Bide your time, child. We'll get to that later.....And they did. For he was a vampire. And she became one too. Oh, he could have killed her. He could have let her go up in a cold, blue flame. But he did not do that. He converted her. He changed her into one such as himself. Then he pushed her away saying - The journey should be easier for you now......She cleaned herself up and went back to the place under the bush. But she'd heard folktales. She knew about the dawn and what it could do. So she woke her brother and made them search for a cave, claiming to be cold. He mumbled, but obliged. That morning, as her skin peeled off, she told him the truth. He cried. She told him to go off alone. But he would not desert her. And he stayed, offering little blood drinks from his own body. Three nights later, he became a vampire too. It was just easier that way. It simplified things. And the trip to the monastery was forgotten......They survived as night spirits, quick, silent sprites preying on the occasional plump traveler. And all would have been acceptable, until the townsmen caught them.........

AND THE LIFE-BEYOND-LIFE GOES ON

They left. The vampires are out for the night. Little Bastid Annie's still here. She wanted to go kill somebody tonight, but Papa wouldn't let her. She doesn't require it. And she doesn't need it. And she's not getting it. So she's out in the back, staring at the fish in the koi pond...Poor fish. I think the cherubs are upstairs watching a DVD of Lady and the Tramp. They like that one, Dumbo too. You should hear them, especially the 'bigger' ones who can talk a little. They trill - Let's watz Dummo!!...It's so cute. They cry when Dumbo's mom gets locked up. Oh, you gotta see 'em. If we weren't afraid, we'd put them on You Tube. I'd  like to see how many hits they'd get. But Papa's a little bit selfconscious about the internet now. That video, the one he made with the two flight attendants came out. Remember, one of them wants to get in showbusiness? They have a 'for your consideration' preview on You Tube. In the credits, they call Papa 'The Silver Fox.' That part he likes. But God forbid people start to notice him. That would be a disaster. Only it won't happen. He's got that 'look.' You know, the vampire 'look.' He shoots 'em that and they  go all blank and forget what they were gonna say. I don't know where he is tonight. Maybe over at Baylah's. He enjoys watching humans get drunk. Says he likes the vapors. You know how he is with aromas. Jonathon went out by himself. All quiet. All serious.  Had a lot of those little, glass, blood vials with him though. His blood, too. So that means tonight he's playing  'great benevolent healer.' That's his favorite. Wait...I'll channel Zebulon. I'll know where he is... Gimme a minute...(wilkravitz gets all glassy-eyed...that ain't rough for him).....A hospital. Graduate Hospital, I think it is. He goes in. Schmoozes the receptionist a little and rides up in the elevator. Third floor. That's where they keep the newborns. Like a zoo, they have them out on display. But that's for the healthy ones. Sick little nutty-buddies are off to the side, behind yet another panel of glass. Some of them are hooked up to machines. Some of them are in trouble. Jonathon looks at the two nurses. He's thinking something he's using his power. OK, he did it. It's a done deal. They feel it, both of them. Their stomachs are doing flip-flops like a pair of  Chinese gymnasts. They jump up and carefully waddle off to the toilet. Diarrhea attack...One of Jonathon's best achievements. He's a master. But he waits a few seconds. You know, to make sure nobody's coming. They ain't. So he sublimates through the glass panels. And before you know it, a few drops fall on the lips of one little angel. And a bit of ruby elixir kisses the mouth of another.  Before you can say 'Doctor Polidori,' they've all been vaccinated, and he is out of there. Next shift...no sick babies. This hospital's only the first. Two more stops yet to go. Old folks. Sick immigrants. Everybody. Then he quietly walks down the street with his head bowed chanting prayers. What do people take him for? I don't know. Stylish, black outfit. Light weight, trim leather jacket. Smart, little bootkins. Long black loose, curly hair. He looks like that guy who got thrown off American Idol a few years ago. You know...Constantine Whoever, or maybe a young Antonio Banderas, or that kid from the Entourage. That's what they notice, especially the young ones. Who cares how 'weird' he is? It's Center City. They're all weird.

Speaking of weird, Lana is up to something with Roland. He's the other one, the elf-kid who stays in the background. Nice soul. doesn't bother anybody. Mostly communicates telepathically like  those pointy-eared ones tend to do. What's he look like? You know the one who played a young Spock in that movie version of Star Trek? Like him, only younger and skinnier. And his hair's longer too. OK, now can you picture it? Luna thinks he's adorable. Can't stop talkin' about him. Always touches him. Smiles at him. Tickles him under the chin. And the kid seems to like it too. I don't think he's ever played 'cowboy and the lady,' if you know what I mean. So she had it all made up. Dressed him up just right, like those fake vampires you see on television. Put a knit cap on his head. Pulled it down over the tips of his ears and waa-laa, you got a hot, sulky ninth grader. I think they're at Dave & Buster's. She's givin' him handfuls of those tokens. He likes the games. Could play 'em for hours. And then when he gets bored, she'll take him somewheres and teach him new games. But that's still in her head. They haven't done that yet. They ain't got that far. He still needs twentysix tickets to get some glow-in-the-dark frisbee. Can you imagine, a kid who can fly and read minds wants a four dollars and ninety-nine cent frisbee? Not to mention the fact that he's also like maybe fourhundred years old....Only here. Only in our story. Only in 'the wonderland.'.....Look, at least Johnny Jump Up's been quiet....I think.....Lemme go out back and check on them fish....That little bitch is too damn quiet.......Jeremy Cisco! That's the name! He's the one! That's who he looks like..............

JONATHON FEELS THE CALL

Jonathon gets this way before the coming of the Passover sometimes. He grows very contemplative and quiet. And he asks why God came for him? That's the pivotal mystery of the season. For symbolically God takes every believer up out of Egypt. He has saved you for a purpose, the faithful are told. And Jonathon is certainly faithful. So he lays in his basement 'resting' cabinet and he thinks. It used to be he'd look up things in his copy of La Ciencia Vampirismo. But now he reads his Bible. Sarah sleeps beside him. She is so good. He is grateful to have her. And he wants her to be secure and happy. Yet he wonders if they should live this way. Why do they need such a house? Why do they need all the wealth? Why do they need such comfort? He knows about Reverent Ones, old vampires who lead plain, pure lives. They live in caves, or long forgotten places. They collect no manner of costly thing. Indeed, they are true hermits, existing only to do their task. They take the sinful 'home.' Once each month, when the moon is bright, they feed. And their human meal disappears from the mortal world, lessening the evil and pain among humanity. Jonathon is called to that. Yet he has ties to the others. He has a life here. Can he leave? Does he have to leave? Or can he change things here? He listens to Sarah's quiet breathing and little by little he falls asleep...Now don't think that this is all I shall tell you this day. Zebulon will tell you more. But this is happening now. And I thought you would like to know.

A RED PAINT SHARES WEREWOLF SECRETS

The vampires and I just want to set the record straight. There are no werewolves. At least not in the way popular culture envisions them. Human genetic material cannot instantly, or almost instantly, transform into canine genetic material. Indeed, even if it could, that just means that any cellular growth from THAT POINT ON would be in the other direction. Poof...you're an Airedale.....No, not likely. But, there is a very real source for those stories. The vampiric burden has existed for ages. Papa is twentyeight thousand years old. Oh, he is extremely powerful....at times....But the power is not constant. It waxes and wanes and he cannot control it. Who 'made' Papa? An even older one called Renate did that. She's his senior by at least ten thousand years, maybe more. And according to those familiar with her (yes, she is still around) she often spoke of an earlier breed. You see, that variety known as Neanderthal, was human too. Different, but human. And it is believed that the enchanted burden rained down on the planet sometime during their era. Imagine what a Neanderthal vampire might have looked like. Severe bone structure. Somewhat muzzle-like nose. Receeding chin. Strong jaw muscles. Heavy brow ridge. Naturally large teeth to begin with. Robust, claw-like nail growth. Solid build, Heavy facial hair.....Get the picture?...There you have it....A werewolf......But he (or she) is always a werewolf. The full moon has nothing to do with it. Maybe they're yetis, or sasquatch, or bigfoot, or your Uncle Bo-Bo. But that's what they are. Now some believe isolated, remnant bands of Neanderthals still exist deep within the forests of Siberia, not to mention certain pockets in the Himalayas. Maybe they harbor a werewolf or two? Maybe the wolf-like howl still tears through the frosty, midnight air. But team Jacob has nothing to do with it. Enjoy that fable if you like, for I have just told you the truth.......I am Charles, one of the Red Paint guys. My people know a lot........

SPRING CHANGES

The Pascal Season is almost upon us. Spiritual beings like vampires, the noble ones, I mean, make much of that. For who better to recognise the truth of it all? If enchanted creatures such as they can exist, then what does that say about the existance of God? Oh, they make no claims about any particular communions. Jonathon will remember his Passovers. The elves will recall old Easter observances in Europe. And Papa may ponder the simple, yet comforting, spring celebrations of his people. But they tend to draw together at this time, sharing stories and feelings and just being a family. Sarah enjoys it too. Luna, raised as she was by the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau, is new to all this. Yet even she sees the necessity of it. And they do their best to spread the good feeling out into the human world as well. You see, even the touch of a vampire can impart strength, what we might call a blessing. No blood has to be passed for this to take place, although that is very powerful. But an energy travels, a gift from the bestower to someone else. Thats why they touch so many surfaces when they go out, passing their hands along shop windows and street planters and commercial displays. They love damp nights, drizzly nights, for then they can use the umbrellas. The @DutchUmbrella ones I mean. You see them. They leave those nice holders in better establishments all about the city. A convenience they are. Borrow one when you need it. And return it when you don't. Shake it out. Roll it up. And put it back. They go from one shop to another. Such an easy way for our life-eaters to spread the good fortune. Pick one up. You'll feel it, the heft, the strength, the warmth, the hum. But Zebulon digresses. For I came to speak of little Mary French, the cherub child, the martyred one. Did you think she was gone, completely, I mean? Well, she is not. For that sweetheart is safely esconced in The World To Come (one of my favorite travel spots) and warm in her mother's embrace. Her tiny tongue is normal now, a blood-drinker's tongue no more. She is in The Holy Prescence. But her conduit to this realm was her destroyer. An intimate relationship they have. And when she wants to, her innocent, toddler's spirit can still rub up against him, whispering in his ear and teaching him things. Does he feel it? Well, he's starting to. That baby-eater has a soul, indeed, he is a soul, and it can be influenced. Something will come of this. But we must be patient. We must wait. We must see. Yet the spring creates other issues. Remember when I told you of the shortened nights and how that effects vampires? They feel constrained. They feel trapped. They feel squeezed. Sarah and Luna are so new. They probably won't even notice, not this year anyway. But Albion feels it. And the other elves feel it too.....Keep an eye on them. Because right now.....they're the dangerous ones.................... And may The Season of Transcendance shed goodness upon you and yours.........