WHAT'S GOING ON INSIDE 'PAPA'?........ 4/27/13

Annie said he's not in there. She says his body is on like automatic pilot. It's like a house with the lamps on timers and the burglar alarm turned on. Edith says - How do you know?..... Annie (our juvenile, little bastid, vampire gal) says - Same way I know who's gonna win The Voice or who Khloe Kardashian's daddy really is. My brain just knows. OK!?.... So they sit there in the kitchen eating yogurt. Yeah, Annie's a life-eater and most mortal food makes her throw up. But she likes yogurt, especially Shop Rite store brand strawberry yogurt, even if she's gonna donate it all to the toilet ten minutes later. Every time she does, she looks down into the bowl and takes inventory. Vampires, some of them anyway, are intrigued by mortal habits. Not so much the younger ones (except for Annie), because they still remember. But older examples of the breed can look at a snotty, crumped up kleenex for hours, contemplating the zeitgeist of a sneeze.

Now let's look out of their eyes and see 'Papa' as they do. He sits in that chair...the same chair... the big one, right in front of the flat screen in the 'family' room. And he stares. Whether at the images on the television or the empty space before it is hard to say. But his eyes don't blink. Well, they do, though not very often. Annie plants herself before him. She makes faces and twists herself up and does little dances. She sticks out her tongue and says curse words, real fast, right in front of his face. Like twenty five 'f' bombs all in a row. But he don't do nothing. 

Sarah don't like when she gets like that, but she ain't here much. Stayin' at her old book shop's like a security blanket. Makes her forget how much she wants Jonathon back. Right now she's sitting in that wing chair, under a warm, little pin-up lamp, reading an old copy of THE AGE OF INNOCENCE. She likes all them old bigoted, howdy-do, white glove, social niceties. 

But Annie got it right. Papa ain't there. He floatin' around out on Europa. That like a moon what wants a be a planet. It go 'round Jupiter. That like a planet what wants a be a star.  He under the ice, Papa, I mean, wrigglin' through that cold, salty ocean wit' them fishy folk.....manta ray people, I think they is. But don't look like no people I know. That vampire partial to aliens. But you gotta remember... he been 'round for like 'leventy seven thousand years. That boy seen lot a aliens...and (whispers) I think he play 'gidgie' wit' 'em. heh heh heh....

Still, he thinkin'..... It just move through his mind like maggot through a rice sack.....Heh, heh, heh..Edith all angry now. She watchin' late night re-run a Hoda/Kathy or whatever they call it. And she don't like when that dumb weather girl come on at two forty five, tellin' folks how warm it gonna get. Dumb girl always talk 'bout New York, Boston and D.C., but don't never say Philly. Edith go - Don't that orange hair bitch know Philadelphia bigger than Washington and Boston put together? Don't she know we got more fancy eatin' places and theaters than them two either?!.... Then she say she never gone watch that girl, or buy what they sellin' on them station breaks. Annie say - You want me to go to New York City and bite her up real bad? But Edith make like she don't hear and mess wit' crapped up plates in a sink.

While all this goin' on, mole-folks havin' a pow-wow. They heard something (see last night's episode). They got suspicions. Sound travels real good underground. 

That why dead folks know all the best secrets. 

This be Mister Never You Mind... But all my good friends know that. 

Right now, TV got Michael Buble singin' - Fairy tales can come true. It could happen to you....... Boy, is he ever right..... Nightmares too.

Heh heh heh heh heh....
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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: MARIANNE IN BRITCHES

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: MARIANNE IN BRITCHES: An hour or so before dawn the barrel maker's boy rapped on the trap door..... What? - said the dominee...... You see, vampires are not ...If you read yesterday's 'Marianne' arc, here's what happened next. VAMPIRE ADVENTURES IN THE NARROW STREETS OF OLD AMSTERDAM.... The 'elferina' talks... BUT as always, this is not the post. You must click on 'MARIANNE IN BRITCHES' up above for that..... COMMENTS & LINKS ALWAYS WELCOME. More on the JONATHON IMPRISONED arc later.

YOU'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT SOME FOLK KNOW.... 4/26/13

The old man sat there and stared into the mirror watching the changes take place. Was he a vampire? Hardly... just a blood thief. But a very good one. And he smiled at the partial restoration of his jawline plus the new found suppleness of his skin. Yet this was just the beginning. The soft, baggy paunch was still there. And his liver spotted pate continued to resemble nothing so much as a large, speckled dinosaur egg in a sparse, wispy nest. But subsequent measures will take care of that.

He clapped his big, loose, flipper-like hands so the two Jamaicans would know he was ready to be tucked in. The women put down their Gator Aide, climbed off the sofa and hoisted him up from his chair and over onto the bed. Then they carefully powdered him like a baby (mustn't get too much on the sheets), while they rapidly spoke to each other in an island patois he did not understand. But Maxwell didn't care. In fact he hardly noticed. The powdering was the thing. Then they gave him a little tickle (He liked that part) snapped open a fresh, clean sheet and watched it float down to his body, before layering on two soft, cashmere blankets and tucking him in like a little papoose. In two to four hours they'd do it all again, since he always peed the bed. Lucky the linen closet was immense. New mattresses were delivered on Tuesdays and Fridays. The staff, after hopefully adequate sanitizing, took the old ones home. It's good to be rich. 

Jonathon, on the other hand, trembled in the corner of his cold, leaden cell. The long, skewer-like needles pulled back into the rough, metal surface. Blood-letting was over... for now. In a night or two he'd get it back. Then they'd steal it again and repeat the whole thing. Vampire crafting takes time.  How fortunate he couldn't see his cadaverous body. If you've ever seen statues of The Emaciated Buddha, you know. The dazed vampirino simply hugged his knees, rocked from side to side and groaned, sealed in a darkness as bleak as death.

Now out in the wide world some things had changed, while others had not. The streets were still safe. Dedicated vampire 'Jonathonites' saw to that. And most of the homeless were in hotels, bathed and dressed and fed. Vampire coffers are deep, you know. Sarah spent time at her old book shop. She avoided customers, hiding in the back and leafing through old classic novels. But when they left, she quietly came out and looked at the cozy nest that once was hers. The present owner, Phyllis, obviously knew she was a vampire. Night-folk were everywhere now. But they never spoke about that, preferring to spend the nighttime sipping coffee. Sarah sat snug in an old wing chair bought at a tag sale in her mortal days. Phyllis nested behind a big antique desk that served as a counter. Sarah thought about Jonathon and how they met, one late autumn night in the shop. She still felt him. So did Edith. But they hadn't found it yet. At times she cried. Phyllis didn't know what to do for vampire tears. Basically, she just held out a box of tissues and buried her face in a book.... Two friends in a warm, cozy shop, lit by small, silk shaded, pin-up lamps spread here and there among the tiny maze. 

But there was another world far below the streets. And the mole-folk know everything. They sneak through deepest tunnels and scurry through long forgotten cellars, collecting dust and secrets on their way. Sometimes they hear things. Water pipes conduct sound very well. And the current Silvia and Aura (Philadelphia mole-folk always have a Sylvia and Aura) picked up a bit of something in the dark and moldy ruins of a nineteenth century wig shop. Women's voices. Two of them. Down in a basement locker room. Changing clothes.... preparing to go off shift. Strange talk... Strange words, muffled by some dirt and floorboards up above their heads. If  people ever knew what lay beneath their sculleries, they'd never go to sleep. 

But Aura did know. She knew the cadence and followed the sounds. Creole talk it was... Jamaica talk, tinged with a bit of Guadaloupe. Third Step Mother sang those songs. Third Step Mother told those tales. And Aura has a spongy mind. She remembers everything.

So she hurried back to the mole-king and told him of a blood drenched old goat, secure in a warm, soft bed.

And the mole-king understood...
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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: THE SHEDDING OF OLD SKIN ----- VAMPIRE RITE OF PAS...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: THE SHEDDING OF OLD SKIN ----- VAMPIRE RITE OF PAS...: There was a door fronting the alley. The dominee sublimated his hand through the stout oak boards and fiddled with the heavy, iron bolt. Fou...Here's a real good episode from the MARIANNE IN BRITCHES story arc, about a young girl from the low countries who gets waylaid into vampirism and survives The Inquisition. Scroll up or down, or click NEWER POST or OLDER POST if you want to see more....As always, these BIG LETTERS are NOT the post. You gotta click on 'THE SHEDDING OF THE SKIN' up above for that. thanks and (hopefully) enjoy... COMMENTS & LINKS always welcome.

NOT JONATHON, BUT THE OTHER VAMPIRES OF PHILADELPHIA DEBASE THEMSELVES..... 4/25/13

They sat in the kitchen playing cards and watching the Hoda and Kathie Lee 2am rerun. That's like a tradition. Edith served some kind of tea. Even vampires can drink that. Little fresh bakes biscotti were for the mortal. Not a big party. Just four of them. Doctor Franklin was there. He doesn't go out much, but sometimes he does. Baylah shuffled the cards. You can tell she's a vampire. She does it with such finesse. Very crisp. So precise. Conrad blew on his tea. He's that kind of vampire. Sure he's new. But I think he's always gonna be that way. What can they do? He's their's and they love him. 

Edith said - That woman came back. She wants to mush up with a vampire...... You can say 'sex' my good woman - chortled the Doctor. We had it in the eighteenth century too, you know. Quite a lot of petticoats to get through, but that only added to the fun.... For any newcomers out there, he is not a vampire, just artificially kept alive via his extensive manipulation of harmonics. Sometimes his teeth vibrate. You might think it's the refrigerator, but it's not. 

Edith added - She has a lot of money. Was a follower, of Jonathon's, I mean, since the beginning... Says she'll donate a lot (gets sad and wistful). He would like that....... Look, Jonathon isn't dead. We can feel him. You can feel him. He's out there. We just don't know where. OK?..... Edith nods. Doctor Franklin tells of some communications he's had with the merfolk, but nobody's listening, so he shrugs and breaks off a piece of biscotti. Conrad says - Who's she wanna have sex with?..... Not you - says Edith. She wants Jonathon, but he'd never do it. Not now. Not when he's in 'Biblical mode.'....... No, I understand - said Conrad... I understand.... But Baylah started to laugh. She knew he wanted to do it. 

I am the ghost from the basement... the boy who died in an iron lung. Polio, you know. Haven't narrated in a while, but tonight you got me. So, hi, how you doin'? Baylah's been out with the dogs... the special ones... the vampire hunters. But they ain't found nothin', 'cept a whole lot a empty cans a Dinty Moore beef stew in a dumpster 'round here. Guy from the restaurant had a fit. Told her he'd call the cops. So she told him to go to hell and die. I like when vampirinas curse, 'specially hot ones like Baylah.

Conrad was thinking. He wants the game to be over. Think they're playing pinochle. Did I spell it right? Wants Doctor Franklin to go home. Wants a sneak out and find that sex woman before it gets light. He knows about her. Ain't wearin' no Dockers tonight. Did you notice? Got on new jeans. Bought 'em on South Street in one of them cutting edge boutiques. What the hell they gonna do with dungarees? Make 'em tight? Make 'em loose? Who's edge gettin' cut anyway? 

Out of town vampires went to 'Lantic City tonight. Baylah's mortal boyfriend, the rich one, fixed it up for them. Gonna wait out the sunlight in a real nice beach house just down the coast in Margate. Neighbors won't know. Bunch a rich,drunk gamblers... That's what they'll think.

Conrad's getting antsy. Say's he needs air. That's a lie. Oxygen don't do nothin' for them. But it still feels good. So they all say 'OK,' and let him go. wilkravitz plays his hand. He once came in third at a pinochle tournament at Penn State. He likes this. Lucky I'm a ghost with psycho-kinetic powers. I can press the keys myself. Let him play cards. I don't care. I like this. 

Five minutes later, Conrad zips 'round the corner. Got a new leather jacket and everything. He be makin' a move. This a big thing to him. Not every vampire slick, you know. It's all quiet. Society Hill's real quiet. Just a mess a red brick townhouses, matching sidewalks, pretty little curb trees and more authentic gee-gaws (my mom was Southern) than  a pre-Revolutionary whore house. Doctor Franklin knows. Then he pulls out his cell phone. Taps in a number. Gets it off a little piece a paper ripped from a Burger King coupon book. Don't trust his memory. A vampire who don't trust his memory. Can you imagine that? Whispers something. Then says - Yeah, yeah, yeah.... Hangs up. Paces back and forth. He don't make a sound, though. Vampires are silent when they walk..... completely silent. 

Eight minutes later a car pulls up... electric job... No noise... no nothing. Conrad goes over and gets in. They glide away. That lady with the money gonna get her wish.... sort of. But look how still it got now. Like a stage set. Like a nice little stage set, all cozy and cobbled. Betsy Ross comes by every once in a while. But she one a them stuck up ghosts. Never says 'boo' to me.... I gone back to the house. Gattaca on Antenna TV. I wanna see it... dying in an iron lung and all

     +     +     +     +     +     +     +     +     +     +     +     +

While .92 miles away, Jonathon rests suspended in darkness, as the unbelievably elongated needles piercing his body lock him in place. He runs his tongue against the inside of his cheeks. Never have they been so dry and thin. The blood is all but gone... And even the dreams are through.
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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah..How 'Papa' Jonathon's creator was captured..... 9/23/13

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah: Sarah and I have much in common. We both lost our parents at a most vulnerable age. She, after they lost their money. Her father had a stro...A peek back to the early days, when Jonathon was created and 'Papa' was abducted. A vampire's talents and abilities are so fluid, you know...Please click on that BOOK OF SARAH phrase up top and explore. Only three people saw this when it first appeared. It explains a few things..... COMMENTS & LINKS are always welcome. thank you...

A NERVOUS AND AGITATED VAMPIRE ...... 4/24/13

Jonathon passed through other rooms and different chambers. He saw interior courtyards and high towers, hidden from the outside world by soaring mountains. Young, elferina girls (waif-like, pointy eared, pubescent vampires) ministered to the good natured cherubs, sharing tiny blood drinks and wrapping them in warm, woolen buntings. Even night-folk children appreciate comfort. 

And there were hospice-like dormitories where silent vampirinas cared for seriously ill mortals, usually much loved retainers, but occasionally a sympathetic local tribesmen or two as well.  

Many vampires assembled for the Creed Song, their version of a religious service. The Choir Master, reputed to be a former liturgical composer from Hagia Sophia,  mother church of The Eastern Roman or Byzantine Empire, led them through intricately layered chants and hymns. The gold leafed, rough stone walls echoed with fine, clear, more-than-natural voices. 'May He Who made the universe, make us forever one,' they sang. And the song had many verses. At certain intervals they stopped for silent contemplation, or prayer-like recitation. Toward the end, each took the wrist of a neighbor and drank a bit of blood, before offering his own wrist to another.

Now all these sites were wonderful to see and Jonathon was truly appreciative. The gold embroidered robes, influenced by Persian courtiers, had no equal.  And he savored wine tinged blood, drawn from the arteries of faithful mortal attendants, who were rarely, if ever, killed. Indeed, the memories would fill many pages in his journal. 

But the one who led him here sensed something and  said - What troubles you?....... Jonathon quietly answered - Everything...... The man with the sharp, cunning fangs whispered - A true vampire, I might say...... And he smiled. Then, in a small, soft, tiny voice added - Lose yourself. Become a vessel. Gather in the blood and let it out...' for those who must be saved.' Let the wicked die. Help the worthy live...... Jonathon said - Who taught you that?.... Though the man only shrugged and smiled.

The young life-eater from Al-Andaluz stayed in that place for perhaps three or four moons, sheltering there through the worst of the winter. And then he simply left, retracing his steps back toward home. Each day he hid from the light. And each night he assisted the worthy. Sometimes he ate. Not often, but monthly as was his habit. He fell into a rhythm and even forgot his name.... in the manner of the truest night-folk of all.

Jonathon has seen many things.

But please do not forget that what we've discussed are memories. For now he waits, pierced by many long, thin needles and unable to free himself from their bite.

His blood, so filled with many things, belongs to his captor now. And his tissues thirst because of it.

The old man, known as Tobias Maxwell, dips his hands in the red, frothy brew and rubs it on his face. But the large, golden bowl holds so much more....

As Jonathon quietly suffers, within his leaden tomb.
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