The First Forgiveness Service Was Nice. What Happened Next Wasn't

They sat in the back, in the very last pew. It was easy to slide in. No velvet cushions this month, what with everybody repenting and all. The Old Pine Street Synagogue, dating from Federalist times had a clean, spare, austere look. Google any early American house of worship. You'll see. The wood floors shine with a rich, deep darkness. Everything else is painted white, except for the varnished oak trim running along the pews and up around the rostrum. The doors to The Ark, behind the rostrum were made of intricately engraved silver, dulled by the years, but still quite lovely. Guide book says they came from Portugal via Holland. Large, brass chandeliers with 'authentic, flame-like bulbs' bathed the faithful in a soft warm glow. 

Tomas and Sarah sat next to an old woman. She smiled at them and they smiled back. He put on his prayer cap, opened the 'book of service' (he and Sarah shared) and joined in, letting the hymns from the white robed choir wash over him. 

And maybe it was Divine Truth, or perhaps just vampiric memory, but he saw the year pass before his eyes....both the triumphs and the failures.... the sins of the flesh and the sins of the spirit....... He quietly repeated - Have mercy, Lord. For my body and soul are Thine.......And God responds - Prepare thyself. Turn away from sin and set thy feet upon My path.... Tomas and the rest of those assembled said that they would. And none so much as suspected the presence of a vampire in their midst.

When they broke for fellowship, he had a taste of wine. The grapes make that a difficult proposition for vampires, but he persevered. Sarah had some too. A lady from the sisterhood offered homemade spongecake, which they 'reluctantly' demurred. Diabetic, you know. Then they made pleasant small talk with a couple from Queens Village (the neighborhood to the south) and left. The streets were dark and quiet. Most of the small, sidewalk trees were still green, though a few dried leaves hid here and there. They held hands. His heart beat slow and calm.

Yet in the blackest shadows of a narrow alley, something watched and it growled as they passed. A four legged creature, with coarse, charcoal fur recorded every move, silently loping out onto the sidewalk and following from a distance. I could tell you its eyes burned orange in the night. A detail like that is usually what comes next. But as it crossed a pool of light cast down from  a black, iron street lamp (the real deal) anyone could see that it had no eyes. The lids hung limp over empty sockets. Still it 'saw' with a sharp keen sight.

The thing accompanied them all the way home. When they went inside and locked the door, it stood vigil , still as stone, in shadows 'neath an old gnarled tree, before vanishing into the mist with the first light of a cool, false dawn...

The 'Dream Time' image draws near...

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THE VAMPIRE TOMAS ATTENDS A MIDNIGHT SERVICE

I heard him in the study all alone and chanting prayers. The lights were off and no one else was home. Annie ran the streets and Edith went to see a movie. She always stops for pancakes after that. And Conrad went to do the things that only Conrad does. I know he's felt the burden from the start. For sometimes being night-folk ain't much like what's on TV. And night-folk take most everything to heart. 

We had a scuffed, old stereo from nineteen sixty three. Baylah brought it over from her bar. He set it up upon the desk and put the record on, an ancient copy of Jan Pierce, I think he was a big opera star, singing KOL NIDRE, the Hebrew prayer for Divine forgiveness of human frailty. Tomas did that from time to time. We know not to bother him. Once in a while I'll sit with him. He holds me. I rest my head on his shoulder. I don't say anything, but I hear him whisper - And, please, LORD,  forgive and protect my Sarah too. Then he kisses the top of my head. He cries a little bit and it's over. 

But this night is different. This night is Selichot (service of first forgiveness), leading up to the Biblical New Year and THE DAY OF ATONEMENT. Look, I've picked up a lot living with him  for over two years. He can't attend services on The Day of Atonement because that's not his time. He's a vampire... and a good one.... and you know how he believes. So he does things in his own way. But SELICHOT Service is different. Selichot Service comes at midnight, 'for The Gates of Heaven open widest upon the darkest hour.' That's what they say.

If you've been with us for a while, you remember what happened last year. You remember the JERUSALEM that wasn't Jerusalem. Not our Jerusalem anyway. Some say we slipped into a parallel universe. Doctor Franklin believes that. And me, I grew up in a family of teachers. We watched Carl Sagan's Cosmos every time they showed it. Nova too. But I don't know. It's funny being a vampire, because we live with the reality of the paranormal.  Magic is like cornflakes and baked beans. It's 'there.' It just is. This isn't a disease. Believe me. We've looked. There ain't no microbe. Dr. Julia Hoffman was barkin' up the wrong tree. No antibiotic gonna cure her Barnabas. So I don't know what happened last year. Maybe the French Knight is still there? Maybe the little Armenian Orthodox cleric is still there?...... You know, that makes me think..... We haven't heard from Zebulon in a while. He's my favorite. Of all the disembodied spirits who flit through our lives, I like him best. Over two thousand years dead. He was thirteen when it happened.... and he still hasn't lost his sense of humor.

But you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get dressed, fix my hair and go with him. I'm gonna go to that service. 

Vampires deserve a little spiritual comfort too.. I mean, look at our group. We're good...mostly. 'Cull the wicked. Preserve the worthy'--- that's what we say.

You know how the service begins? You know how the prayer goes? Tomas told me. It's like a little child, could be a boy.... could be a girl.... sitting down, giving a hairbrush to a parent and asking them to please undo the tangles.  The tangles are sins. The tangles  are bad things, thoughtless things we've done  to others. The tangles get in The Way...... And if we ask with a pure, childlike innocence, GOD will remove each and every one.

I gotta do something with Annie. Every once in a while she acts a little better, but this isn't right. And Edith shouldn't eat those pancakes all alone each time. 

I gotta do something. I just have to.

Let me tell you.... being a vampire is a very complicated thing..... 

Now let me go get dressed.

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TOMAS OBSERVES HUMANITY AND SHARES A BIT OF LA CIENCIA VAMPIRISMO

Do you know that during the Crusades captured vampires, mostly pathetic, little elferino-vampirinos, accompanied knights to The Holy Land? It is true. They used their blood to heal wounds. For the mounted warriors of the upper class suffered such grievous injuries. Few would have survived at all without life-eater assistance. 

They kept them as pets, safely locked in stout, leaden cages. The bars were more like wide, flat blades. Vampires cannot sublimate through lead. Everyone knows that. But these slim little 'beasties' were pampered...fed blood from the finest vessels. Sleek, fit mortals, I mean. They rarely take enough to cause death. Even say 'thank you' when it's all done. Some say Britain's Arthur was one..... an elferino-vampirino, I mean. That's how he managed to pull the sword from the stone. Please, be reasonable. Do you think a normal, young boy could do that? It's all there in The book... in LA CIENCIA VAMPIRISMO.

And do you know that book never ends. It's like a key into the Akoshic Records. The more you read, the more there is. Pages continue appearing. Yet the Book never contains more than one thousand, for those near the source disappear. Look, if you've scrolled fore and aft through 'digital' script you know what I mean. I don't know which pages remain once it is closed. That, I cannot tell you. 

I like sitting here. A 'familiar' owns the place. It overlooks the square, Washington Square. And the fourth floor is just right. I sit out on the balcony, obscured in shadow, watching the late night wanderers  down below. 

The 'Crazy Lady' isn't crazy. She talks to a dead sister. And believe me, the 'dead' one never shuts up. Shhhhh, they're out there right now, seated on a bench right by the monument. A few strange ghosts ripple by, but they don't care. Except for the spirit of little 'Runty.' He's a terrier, killed by 'Johnny Shot' (like grenade shrapnel) at the Battle of German Town. Got himself buried with what they thought was the right captain. But it wasn't HIS captain. So he runs around yapping for him every night. It's true. Spiritually attuned neighbors complain about the noise. But they don't know the puppy is dead. Two 'goth' girls often come through after work. They're massage artists, I think. He likes them, because they can see him. They pass their hands through the ether of his body. It calms him. He enjoys the warmth. 

I cannot wait for autumn..... real autumn. Short days. Long nights. We night-folk truly 'live' then. Now that I have known you for a while, I will take you places. I will show you the 'magic' beyond magic...and the 'fear' beyond fear.

Edith says we'll fashion a new playmate. Make a new 'vampire.' None of us want to. But she has seen it...and her magic is strong. 

Who knows? Perhaps (if you abide in the central districts of this vast, old city) it will be you. Philadelphia after dark is a grand place. Cobbled lanes lead toward secrets yet untold. 

Now, if you would be so good as to excuse me, I must hurry to an appointment with a most elusive specter in the top-most tier of The Walnut Street Theater. It's the oldest, continuously operating playhouse in the English speaking world..... and that includes London. So, please, I must be off. Actors can be so, so vain....

Oh, if you think the new vampire should be you, leave a comment, for we're quite willing to review applications.....

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YOU TOO CAN THROW MAGIC AROUND LIKE A CHAMP!

Hi, how ya doin'? This is Edith, the Jersey Pines, 'pow-wow' witchy lady. I know we talk about special talents and abilities every once in a while, but some of  you may not have any. So now I'm gonna tell you...... You do. Everybody does. Animals like dogs got some too. Only I really don't know what they do with it.

And please don't rush out buyin' a lot a Halloween lookin' crap... No wands.... No crystal balls.... No dried up monkey's hand (unless you need it for like a recipe or something). 'That' stuff is for illusionists.... and we ain't that. OK, some DO use a prop, but only to help them focus. Actually, you can stare at whatever's around...the vacuum in the corner..... a crack up on the ceiling....... a chair....a picture...... a piss stain on the rug. A lot a people use the television. They turn down the sound and concentrate on the image. Old, black and white movies and TV shows work best. I've heard stories that say it's because the people you're lookin' at are dead. But I don't know. The kid stars ain't, not yet, anyway.

Then all you gotta  do is visualize what you want to happen. By that  I mean you can manipulate things that already exist. But you can't create no new stuff. Only toy companies, factories and fertility labs can do that.

Say you want money. Then you focus on 'lucky opportunities'..... Feel the fortune..... Taste the happiness..... Savor the power.... Make like it's already happened..... Make like it's a done deal.... Hold 'it' in your hand.

The Lucky Opportunity thing  works for lots a stuff. It's a biggie. I'm gonna put up a symbol right now ~~~ (o)(o) OK, you got it? Now stare at it.... Really stare at it. It knows what you want. It wants to help. And it's not evil. Look, you can add any other prayer you want. Something from C.C.D.. Something from Hebrew School, or Sunday School... Anything. But keep looking at the (o)(o) ... And FOCUS...Feel it... No, do it. Really do it. 

I'm getting some stuff right now. Somebody wants good results from a medical test. Somebody wants their future mother-in-law to like them. Somebody wants the plumbing in the bathroom to last til they can pay for new stuff. Somebody wants the roof not to leak........ Somebody wants to dream about a dear departed...... Somebody wants to move away real bad.

So do it. Concentrate. Focus. Lose yourself in the (o)(o) ..... If you like, hold some keys in your hand. Keys unlock things so the imagery might help. 

It's all just a question of tappin' into forces. Scientists say even a vacuum (not like a Hoover... a real one) is full a energy. The whole universe throbs with an unseen, potent potentiality. And in an infinite omniverse... everything is possible.

Step right up and try it. You just might be a winner.

That's all I'm gonna share tonight. They got Jack Benny reruns on 'Antenna.'

It's quiet now. The vampires are still out. So I can eat my Doritos and relax.

Lemme know what happens. COMMENT us.

Inquiring minds want to know.....

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THE HARVEST MOON... CRO-MAGNON STYLE

The houses looked oddly like cabins, somewhat uneven and raggedy along the edges, but cabins just the same. They huddled upon a small pier jutting out into the lake. Mankind's  first major construction and the ancestor of all fortified polities, from moated castles to water feature festooned Florida condos.... Papa's 'home town'..... his village. If you'd like an illustration Google neolithic lake dwellers..... Like summer camp for kids with really, really, really rustic expectations. 

But the people were on shore, seated 'round a small fire (a large one would be to oppressive, considering the late summer heat and all). None were clothed, though most sported one or two primitive shamanistic tattoos. They seemed to be enjoying a Bedrock version of duck-duck-goose. The master of ceremonies, probably the spiritual leader of the place, walked around the circle waving a huge tickler made from (what looked like) turkey feathers. Then, when the clapping and  chanting stopped, he'd quickly reach over and stimulate the appointed person, who jumped up and started chasing the first individual to their left all around the assemblage, sharply  pinching their ass as often as possible. Then, when the circuit was over, they'd count the welts. Sometimes they'd wait a few dozen heartbeats, giving the red marks a chance to rise. If the 'red ass' belonged to the opposite sex, they accompanied the 'chaser' back to the village for a lusty game of 'snake in the gopher hole.' Should the red ass be of the same sex, their mate (or a suitable person of their chosing) substituted. Sometimes couples turned out to be of the same gender, but I don't know what rule governed that. 

Madam Shang and Papa materialized just inside a copse of trees and hidden from the revelers, who could not see them anyway. The ancient Han demi-goddess said - Does this please you?......... But she knew from his smile that it did. He nodded and said - Very much. This night was my first night........ Which one are you? Scruffy westerners are so very much alike. And minus raiment of any type distinctions (such as they are) appear to vanish.- said the imperious powerful one...... Papa pointed to a sturdy young lad with a tattooed salamander wriggling down one thigh. How trim through the loins he was. How ready for the hunt. And when the shaman froze behind him, he was up before the first feathery tickle, chasing his prey (a fancy-rumped female, bought from a neighboring settlement) round the circle, eagerly grabbing quivering handfuls of ass, as they went speeding on their way. Three welts. She had three welts. So they followed the pier back out to the village and began to play the usual game. 

The Harvest Moon - said Papa. My favorite time of year. It's not that we grew crops, but we did gather them. And foodstuffs were so plentiful. Chestnuts were my favorite. Cranberries, or something very close to them were too. Can you find my family?......... The demi-goddess obviously knew, but she studied each face (not to mention other body parts) before announcing her decision...... They stand back from the circle  with another group. The large man with the silver mane. Young to have it, but quite becoming. And the fox-color haired female is his mate - she said. 

Mothers and fathers never share 'circle' with offspring. Aunts and uncles too. - he said...........

My, my, my - whispered the twice transformed (first a vampire, then a demi-goddess) Chinese noblewoman. Such barbarities....... Though she did not really mean it.

Later they followed the shaman to his lair, flitting through his dreams like sparrows and learning many things.....

Tomorrow we explain the universal and eternal nature of magic.

Tonight was but an introduction and diversion....

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psst! It's Me, Headless Tommy. Pun'kin Time Is Coming

We ain't strangers in the night no more, 'cause we had an encounter last fall. I know. I know. I know. It ain't fall yet, but creatures of the ether, like me, can feel it. Tiny little tendrils ooze up from the mud.... ghosts of spiders...ghosts of garden slugs... ghosts of beings yet unnamed. They swirl through the dark like mist. You can see them on your windshield. Wipers won't do no good. Can't get rid of 'em. Squeaky rubber sound...Squeaky rubber sound... Squeaky rubber sound.... That's all you'll get. It's autumn folks (or about to be) and nightmares are in season. 

I haunt the seashore. Earthbound spirits love the seashore... quiet little towns.... neat cozy houses.... empty streets....at least now. Everybody left. Sure, some come back on weekends. But the weeknights belong to us. Listen, you can hear the surf. Ain't no traffic lights no more. Well, they're there, but they just blink. Maybe every ten minutes or so a car goes by. Maybe some old bastid walkin' a dog. But they know.... They know.... Got room in the ghost brigade for them too. Nobody leaves here, not the full timers anyway. 

Summer flowers lay down and die. Still moist. Still green ( a little), but dead. Marigolds and Asters peek out now. Oh, they were there a few weeks ago, only nobody sees 'em. Too much white. Too much red. Too much pink. Too much blue. But they were there, like small, ratty mammals runnin' from the dinosaurs. Well, they ain't runnin' anymore. Now we got the season a fire.... the season a smoke. Deep orange pom-poms stand guard along walkways, sheltered in thick, dark leaves. I like when the pun'kins come out, being headless and all. Back when folks were more observant, weren't no pun'kins, just a whole lot a fresh killed severed heads. But then when ladies started wearin' corsets and brassieres and all, didn't want no severed heads.... Too gross.... Too old fashioned. Jack-O-Lanterns were better. 'Sides, you could scoop out the guts and make pie. Most people never cottoned to human brain pie, so it really weren't no contest. 

They wrap corn stalks 'round streetlights, 'specially the ones at the corner..... 'atmosphere' for weekend shoppers and visitors. Luncheonette starts makin' soup.... maybe some stew.... bread pudding. The La-Dee-Dah (that's our ladies' shop) puts all them harvest motif sweaters in the window. Chimney sweep gets busy. 

Old Man Pig Jowls (not his name. just what I call him) likes to sit out on his dark, little porch late at night. I know he can see me, 'cause sometimes he nods a little. He been 'round here a long time. Remembers me from before the accident, when I was alive...when I had a head. Ester the dead waitress tells him stories. Nothin' special, just gossip she hears from ghosts and from them soon to be ghosts. She stands in the shadows, smokin' her ghost cigarettes, crackin' her ghost chewin' gum and whisperin' stuff. Old Man Pig Jowls makes with a little laugh every once in a while. He likes it. Think they used to mush up back in the day, 'fore some bastid threw her out an attic window. Didn't land on grass. smashed down on concrete. Blood stain's still there, although I think most of it is actually the result of seeped in bile and partially done shit.

Got two new ghosts this year. One's like this 'thing.' Like a dense, dark cloud. I guess it's a guy. I try to be friendly, but it runs away (skitters or floats, would be more like it)and hides in parked cars, or down basements. The other one might be a dog. I ain't sure. Dog ghosts make me cry. Not that I got eyes, but you know what I mean. Prolly got 'O.D'ed' on drugs layin' on top a some ice cold, metal table at the vets. Everybody pettin' it. Everybody all teary-eyed. Everybody thinkin' 'bout that new, deluxe puppy they gonna get.

Some a the live folks is scared a ghosts. They stay in at night watchin' TV and playin' cards. Once a week they got bingo. Wednesdays is book discussion night at the library, but I think most go for the homemade cookies and all. 'Cause if you ask me, some of 'em can't even read.

I'm an imaginary friend to a kid over on Ocean Avenue. Ain't never seen me minus my cranium. Don't wanna scare him. But he knows I'm there. Keep him company when he can't sleep at night. Tell him stories....mostly 'bout pirates. He likes pirates. 

Some ghosts scare folks...step out from behind say a bush on a windy, cold night. Peek in the kitchen window. Stand out in the upstairs hallway. don't do nothin', just stand there...maybe sway back and forth a little...... Some dead folks is nuts.

They got ginger snaps at the food market. And the dollar store got a whole aisle filled with Halloween stuff.  For the next eight weeks we is 'it.' But then they forget. Then they want pilgrims and Santa Claus and dreidyls. 

But the dead are still here, maybe a little more wispy and all, what with all the decorations and lights. But we're still here. 

Don't forget us.....

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SOME VERY BAD LUCK MADE CONRAD THE WAY HE IS

It was still dark. Dawn was still more than an hour away. Tomas and Conrad sat in the little den off the kitchen. The house was dark. They could hear Edith snoring upstairs. She sounds just like Curly from The Three Stooges. Annie's back too, holed up in her cubicle trying to get through to some crackpot radio call-in show, but apparently they don't want her, 'cause she's kicking the wall like crazy. 

They're drinking gin. It's close to vodka and 'pure' alcohol goes down easiest. The television's on... some info-mercial about good abs. But they're not watching. Besides, the sound's turned down real low. This is bonding time. Tomas shares stories of Old Andaluz. He tells of his time in the pit, during his transformation, and the young girl he killed, plus the one he 'didn't' kill (it's all in the early episodes. go look. we'll try and put up a more direct link, but there wasn't time tonight, because I blog this in real time). Conrad listens. This is all so new to him. Having a friend, I mean. His mortal life was rough. Played nursemaid to an old grandfather...an abusive old grandfather. Dealt with oozing sores, rashes, boils, curses, spitting, belittlement, face scratches made by filthy, greasy fingernails and shitty sheets. Never slept more than two hours in a row. Pops wouldn't let him. 

But one day he got something in the mail. A casino sent it. An Indian Casino from near where he lived. Not that he was a high roller, but every so often his cousin would fill in for a few hours. Not a lot, just when he felt guilty, like if the rashes were starting to spread to Conrad's face and neck. That's when he played the machines. Never won much. Usually lost. but it took his mind off things and he liked it. Earned a few raffle points too. Some folks, the real addicts had thousands of 'em. Conrad had thirty seven. Thirty seven chances out of maybe eighty three million to win five hundred thousand dollars. Second prize was a Nissan Altima. Third prize was a trip to Europe. Fourth prize was free drugs... I mean free slot play. Winner had to be present for the drawing. Conrad wanted to go. Had it all set up with the cousin. Fed gramps (fried baloney sandwich and cheap potato salad). Old man yelled for days if he bought the good kind. Put on the Fishin' Channel. Turned off the big light. Grandpop hates electric bills... and waited. but it's not what you're thinking. The cousin DID come. Only two minutes 'fore he was supposed to leave, old man gets 'the pain'..... Gets it real bad. Starts moaning and shaking and sweating. Cousin starts yellin' - Call the rescue squad! Call the rescue squad!..... So they do. And the guys (one was a girl) got there in no time. They wrapped him up, slid him on a gurney, attached all the doo-dads and wheeled him out. Guy says - Don't THINK it's a heart attack, but with his age and all, you never know........ Cousin says - You go to the drawing. I'll go with him...... But gramps starts wheezing and yelling - No! No!...He knows! He Knows! He knows my history. Conrad's gotta go. Conrad! Conrad! Conrad!...... And the rescue guys start looking at him. Must a thought he was gonna collapse, the way his shoulders slumped and all. One said - Please, we don't have a whole lot a time..... Conrad looked down and  whispered - I'll go..... Cousin said - Here, give me the tickets. I'll go. Maybe if you win, like that's gonna happen, they won't ask too many questions and I'll be able to claim the prize..... So Conrad reached into his shirt pocket and forked 'em over. Then he squeezed into the medi-van just as they cranked up the siren and sped off.

Old bastid did not have a heart attack, just a near terminal (for everybody 'round him) case a the shits. And Conrad DID win the five hundred thousand dollars. Only them sons a bitches did ask a lot a questions. Cousin wasn't him. He wasn't there, so too bad... he lost. Prize went to some nasal voiced urologist. But his cousin did manage to win twelve hundred and thirty dollars on his own, though. Saw a real good Cher impersonator too.

Conrad sat in a chair lookin' out the window for days. When his neck got tired from twistin' it 'round to look out he read a Bible. Then one afternoon, when the old man was cursing 'them bitches on The Talk'... Conrad dumped a whole, ice cold container (straight from the 'frigerator) a Kozy Shack rice pudding all over his grandpop's bald, crusty head. I do not know what the old man did. Probably cursed some more and peed hisself. Conrad didn't stay around to find out, 'cause he just walked out that door and kept goin'..... Had forty eight dollars in his wallet from a scratch-off lottery ticket bought with change at the Piggly-Wiggly. Walked all the way to Wabash and Main. That's were the bus comes in. Bought a ticket to some town, got off and walked some more. Saw a little place off in the trees, like a school or a nut house or something. Went over to use the toilet. And that's how he became an almost, sort a , kind a monk..... a vampire killin' monk.... And you know how good he was at that job?.....

Tomas listened to the whole thing. Then he hugged him, poured him a little more gin and sat there while he drank it. 

Few dozen heartbeats later he helped him go to sleep. 

They were friends now..... Good friends.

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