The Book of All Things New

Zebulon reporting... Now morbid acts continued to occur. And since Annie was now secure within our sheltering busom (did I spell it right? I know how funny mortals are about words pertaining to the female breast) we could not rightly blame them on her, or on the use of her physical body. That meant the Shaky Hand Man was doing it alone. He had achieved physicality. He could move things and influence matter on his own. Quite the trick actually. Want to see how special it is? Take something light, like a ping-pong ball. Put it down upon the center of a level table in a spot free of drafts. Pull up a chair and sit down. Turn off the television. You can watch The Price is Right some other time. Besides, they ain't playing Plinko today. There, you heard it.... a peek into the future. And I don't lie. Now try to make that ping-pong ball move. And don't breathe on it. That's cheating! You're doing it! You're doing it! And a certain kid in Chicago better stop it before I give him a greasy nose zit like he'll never forget!! Well, now do you know how hard it is? Two college girls in Pennsylvania seem to have it. I'll have to keep an eye on them. But the Shaky Hand Man is really good at it. He can like move a piano, or send electricity juicin' up into all the asses planted in all the seats of The Radio City Music Hall. Thats not what he did though. Two guys were out shopping in T.J. Maxx. They were looking for bargains. I guess they blew their loads buying gifts for everybody else. And it is not often you find ski boots hiding out in the shoe department of T.J. Maxx. So they each grabbed a pair of some shiny, black plastic, James Bond looking numbers and jammed their feet right into them. Stomped around a little to see if they fit. You know how it is. And everything was copasetic. Everything was good. Case closed. Sale made. But when they tried to take those suckers off, everything was not so good. Those bastids would not budge. And what was worse, they were getting tighter and tighter and tighter. Folks were gathering around. Everybody had  a plan. Stick their feet in a freezer, which turned out to be extremely difficult, since there ain't no freezers in a T.J. Maxx store and it would be pretty hard to jamm that mother shut what with their legs being attached and all. One old fart wanted the manager to rub butter all over their feet. And they did find some butter, or actually a candy with a lot of butter fat in it over in the gourmet food department. But that only made a mess, not to mention it poisoned some bitch's little chihuahua which she had stashed in the bottom of her satchell. And all the time those boots are getting tighter. The two guys are screaming! Blood is dripping out from the top. A kid who was tryin' to boost a couple video games claimed he could hear bones cracking. The manager finally calls 911. And by the time they get there, the guys are passed out. People are screaming. Folks are running out into the street. And them boots just keep shrinking and shrinking and shrinking. Like little kiddie boots they were. No, like doll boots. Like something Ken would wear when he takes Barbie to their cozy, little, three-sided, cardboard and pink plastic ski lodge. And then the two guys were dead. Everybody got real quiet. Turned out they was workers for a group dedicated to supplying warm winter shoes for poor kids. Some shrill, blond haired girl from the TV news wanted to splash this interesting event all over everything. But a guy from the government, sort of like them men in black, took her aside and told her to shut her bleached teeth, lipstick smeared, fast-talking mouth if she didn't want to end up accidentally on purpose mostly dead or something. So she packed up her crew real fast and they executed a smart turkey trot over to cover the folks waiting in line to see Santa Claus (who himself was suffering from a near terminal attack of flatulence) in The Gallery. And T.J. Maxx got rid of all them wide-eyed, Lookie-Lou's by giving them each a hundred dollar gift card. The guys from the government told them Obama'd pay for it, so that made it all right. Only it wasn't all right, for I could hear the spirit laugh of that Shaky Hand Son of a Bitch for a long, long, long, long time......

The Boob of All things New

Tomas/Jonathon prepares to sleep. Sarah joins him. They share a big, oak, Louis XV, free standing wardrobe. It is at least as large as a double overnight berth on a train. The bottom is covered with a nest of thick, down comforters. They disrobe, get in, close the double doors and snuggle into the welcome darkness. The windowless basement provides respite for the others as well. Each has their own refuge. Each keeps their own counsel. Their 'familiars' via the two park employees have furnished the place well. But Tomas/Jonathon cannot relax. Sarah lays still, her mind racing to decipher the enigma that is Annie. Tomas/Jonathon speaks - I look in the mirror and see myself. I see the way I look. I am eighteen years old. I could front for the Jonas Brothers for God's sake. And I take it all for granted. Then I look at the Old Woman. It's crazy, but that is what I call her now. And for me, 'now' means the last fifty years. But she was young once. She had dreams. She wanted more. She got on that floating death trap and went down into the reeking, mildew hold with the rats, so she could come to America, so she could come to Philadelphia and find a better life. But then I found her. True, she would have died of consumption. What do they call it now? Sarah responds - Tuberculousis, T.B.. Tomas/Jonathon - Yes, T.B.. And I 'helped' her. I preserved her life. But at what cost? Granted, I did not make her into a vampire. She does not bear that burden. She does not fight our fight, worthy though it may be. But I did make her into 'something else.' She is over one hundred and sixty years old. And I think she has been aging quicker since she's been on her own, because she has not had any little blood gifts. I know it's not my fault. I know how she can be. I know it was her decision to leave, but I still feel guilty about it..... Sarah - Well, you know, she still hates me. I know you can see that.... Tomas/Jonathon - I think it's just a defense. I think she seems that way because she is scared. She felt rejected when you came. She knew of our connection..... Sarah - I know. And she loved you. She probably still loves you. I don't trust her. And how can we let that 'Annie' thing stay? She's not just a pathetic, little girl anymore, sad as that might be. She's more than that. She's something else. It scares me. We're all down here sleeping and she's up there with wilkravitz and Edith and your Old Woman and God knows what she's thinking. Is she still possessed? Is it a constant thing with her? Is the Shaky Hand Man still there? Is he always there? How strong is he? What is he? And what is she?..... Tomas/Jonathon - She's a six year old girl...... Sarah - Yes, and you're just an eighteen year old boy......... Meanwhile, upstairs, the mortals share a morning meal. The Old Woman has cooked up a big pot of oatmeal. She spoons it out into heavy, ceramic bowls. She tops it with cream and honey. One for Annie. One for wilkravitz. One for Edith. And one for her. Ah, such a nice, bright homey scene. But when wilkravitz turns his head to focus on a segment of the Today Show,  Annie spits into his bowl. Edith didn't see it. She was in the toilet.

The Book of All Things New

Tomas' former housekeeper, the Old Woman has returned to us. And she has brought us the girl called Annie. Our juvenile, immortal chorus gathers 'round her. They sniff her and taste her warily, much as snakes examine anything organic. She laughs a little girl's laugh. It tickles. The Old Woman speaks. She says - I know you probably don't want much to do with me, but this one might be of interest. Tomas speaks - How did you get her? The Old Woman - Well, I wander the streets. I shelter where I can. So does she. So does this one. It was only a matter of time, maybe two million heart beats at the most till we laid eyes on each other. She needed a 'granny' and I was sorry, so sorry for any harm I caused when I turned my back on you and your... concubine. Tomas responds - She is not my concubine, you ruined, old hag. Leave the girl. Leave her. We will decipher her truth on our own. We will determine if she is an innocent blessing or a plaugue among us.... He beckons to the girl and she goes to him... Tomas - Now go. Just go. Give her some food and send her out. The 'children' have been cooking. I hope you like steamed chicken nuggets and toasted marshmallow shish kebabs?...An adorable, tiny, elf girl steps forward and hopefully offers her one. The Old Woman takes it, nods and eagerly begins to eat it.... Tomas - Now go.... But she looks up at him and he remembers her from former days. He remembers when he rescued her from the bowels of an Irish 'coffin' ship. She sees his reaction and says - Please, I come bearing gifts, or more rightly, restoring them... She takes a cloth bag out from under her woolen cloak and offers it to him. He passes Annie off to Sarah and takes it. He opens it, carefully examining the contents. It's his old, worn prayer book and his hand written vellum journal. He tenderly holds them close and breaks down into tears. I cry too. Zebulon is always a softy for scenes like this. But you must have sensed that by now. The Old Woman whispers - It's all right. I've done what I set out to do. I will go now.... She turns to depart. But Tomas clears his throat and says - You can stay..... The Old Woman silently mouths her thanks. Marianne (the eldest elf girl) reaches out for her cloak. The Old Woman gives it to her. They find her a seat by the heater and offer her a hot drink. She gratefully accepts. Sarah and Edith usher Annie into another room, where they help her clean up and change into some warm, dry clothes.. They brush her fine, though beautiful hair. Sarah whispers to Edith - I can't help it. I want to know who she really is inside.... Annie sneezes. Edith says - God bless you. Soon the vampires begin to settle down. Dawn approaches. Annie silently sits watching television with Edith, the Old Woman, and wilkravitz. She laughs at a cartoon.

The Book of All Things New

Zeb speaking. Now I know they've done some shall we say, unsaintly things in the past. Sarah took delight in the pain of her victims once or twice. Maybe Baylah did that too. though I am not sure about Tomas. I do know that in his heart he wants to hear his birth name, his true name, his 'faith' name. He wants to be called Jonathon, or at least Jon. I know it is pronounced more like Yahn. I still know my Hebrew, for we spoke it, or a dialect like it, when I was in the flesh. Jonathon... It means 'Gift of God,' in the Holy Tongue. And I think he attempts to live up to that. In his own way and reguardless of the various burdens he has had to carry over the centuries, he has always struggled to make the world a better place.... At least from his vantage point. Domestic vampires? Who would ever imagine such a thing. Morticia, Sarah's goth-girl friend calls once in a while. The vamps are big on those no contract-throw-away cell phones. Edith rarely uses them. She says they dull her telepathic capabilities. Morticia says that a lot more of the magic-goth-fantasy-face pierced-I hate my stepmother types have descended on the city. They saw that You Tube posting of the sports arena melt down. And it was quite clear that there were a few nearly naked little babies zipping around  up among the rafters. The big web debate is photo shopped or not photo shopped? Right now the 'not photo shopped' party is winning. Morticia says that if some sort of open spiritual warfare breaks out, the pseudo-enchanted will most likely fall into our camp. But the operative words are 'most likely.' Albion brought back some type of video game system for the little ones. He claims he bought it. But considering his grasp on reality, he probably paid with Monopoly money and Cracker Jack gem stones. I don't care. This season is too commercialized anyway. It reminds me of the Passovers we used to have in Babylon. All the dining rooms were done up in these huge, colorful silk pillows. Everyone sported tunics and over-wraps fashioned from the same fabrics. And if you ask me, the proscribed bill of fare was a bit too heavy on the shell fish for what was supposed to be a reverent, kosher repast. But the wine was good. We used to get these wonderful vintages from the Medes up by the Caspian Sea. Oh, how I still remember them. And it was a rare Cup of Elijah that made it to the end of the dinner/service without some sneaky, little cousin downing the contents for himself. Ah, but where am I? Oh yes, in the middle of the vast Fairmount Park woodlands in The City of Brotherly Love. How nice things look, what with the light dusting of snow and all. Our snug, brick compound is quite cozy. I think I can see Sarah's hand in things. Marianne's  too. Albion 'bought' lots of decorations for the junior vampire set. wilkravitz plays games with them. And Edith makes her predictions. She feels there will not be any great spiritual war. For the Shaky Hand Man does not have to do that. He merely has to snuff out a few pivotal individuals or groups and the balance will  tilt. The veneer of humanity tends to run thin. And he knows just the right way to sand it off.......Now someone trudges through the hard packed snow. Someone progresses through the woodlands. It is a woman, an old woman. I seem to remember her from some time or place. I cannot recall her name, so I will refer to her as the Old Woman (familiar in some way). And she leads a child, a little child, a girl. I think she is crying. Look, Edith senses their approach. I can see it in her face.....

The Book of All Things New

I am happy with the elves and cherubs. Some of them call me 'mother' and that comforts me. I love them. They are pure souls wrapped up in a reality they do not understand. We play games, Candy Land, Monopoly (with the older ones). I braid and style the girls' hair and judge the outcome of elfin wrestling matches, which often occupy all three dimensions. Albion and Marrianne (the eldest girl) bring back things from the market and we prepare meals for our human room mates. I hope they like them. I still remember human food, but the little ones find it puzzling and confounding. I do my best to keep things on a even keel. We're not trying to make anyone sick here. But the enchanted children view these comestibles as ingredients for mud pies and tend to create offerings based on color and shape rather that taste or nutrition. Our wilkravitz tries to be a good sport about it all. It seems he was never much of a cook himself. Yet I can't help but notice his dissappointment when confronted with yet another platter of jellied, boiled chicken in peanut sause, or liquified tuna fish (we have a blender) and cold, peppered dough balls. Sometimes Marrianne brings back a frozen pizza. Thank God for that. Things are fairly quiet and snug in our woodland/park retreat. Two gentleman from the park service discovered our presence, but a quick and timely gift of two or three blood vials (guaranteed to cure what ails you) did the trick. Now they are among our most devoted protectors. Tomas, Baylah and Edith are trying to learn more about our enemy. We really don't know his strength. Is he a universal entity capable of destroying great swathes of creation, or is he merely some disgruntled soul out to vandalize a few celestial mailboxes so to speak. And Tomas' neck itches. He says that's a sign that the Old Woman is near. God knows what that could mean. Annie still acts the part of a demonic Gilly (you know, that bad, little girl on Satuday Night Live). The press never covers her handiwork. Who would believe it? It would be tantamount to professing belief in alien encounters, another thing the bovine masses are wont to admit. Edith takes part in thought nets with the other Piney's and Red Paint types. They've spread out over the whole area. They pick up everything. The C.I.A. should be half as good. We've all been sneaking out to do a little culling. The police are beginning to detect a marked decrease in crime. Even the hospitals have noticed a drop in the death rate (those blood vials and blood kisses). Too bad they're still stealing all the credit and sending out those extortionist bills. Oh god, I have to go. I have to go scrape some diced turkey franks cooked in apple sause off the walls. Lovely. Then maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll be able to relax with a good, old, black and white movie on AMC or something.

The Book of All things New

Edith is a lifeline. She can hear things. She tells us what is happening in the camp of our enemy. The young one, Annie, seems to be losing importance. The spirit riding her has increased in strength. The one known as The Shaky Hand Man is becoming physically able. That is not good. No, that is worse than not good. It is a catastrophy. How can I explain it to you? Picture it this way. Imagine the regimes of Nazi Germany, or Stalin's Soviet Union, or the Realm of Ghengis Kahn. Contemplate the abominations committed by evil minions, willing human minions. Then add in the possibility of natural catastrophies of shall we say Biblical proportions. And the Shaky Hand Man is smart. He knows where to get the most bang for his buck. We all have a feeling, not just Edith, that his dream is to be able to weaken the very foundations of a great mountain, a volcano, in the isles off the north west coast of Africa. I believe it is known as Cubierta en Palmas. If the great peak explodes a landslide such as the world has never seen can give birth to monstrous tidal waves rising to the height of four hundred cubits, excuse me, six hundred feet. Mankind has not suffered the like since the last days of King Midas on the island of Crete. The east coast of the New World and the west coast of the Old World will become naught but memory. America will no longer be the Rome or Persian Empire of our age. The modern day descendants of Charlemagne's Western Empire will all die, as will the children of King Arthur. And new lords, brutal lords will march across the globe. Excuse my poetic tone. But a one thousand year old Andalusian grown up in the Caliphate of Cordoba  has his ways. I am Tomas. And I cannot help that. Now all this is just conjecture. All this may never occur. The Shaky Hand Man can be beaten. Is there a way to do it? Of course there is. Though we are not quite privy to it yet. Sarah retreats to her 'children' the elves and cherubs. She hugs them. She kisses them. She tells them stories. She tucks them in each dawn and in all ways has become the perfect mother. They taste her blood and she tastes theirs. And Baylah has become reunited with her own mother, at least in the spiritual form. The old queen sings to her. She guides her. And Baylah has made a few fortuitous kills in the last few nights. Yes, she does venture out. Yes, she has been taking a victim every night. No, she does not rely on visions, but rather on her own heart beating in her own breast. And the level of evil has diminished in the world, or our part of it. Sarah and I were instructed to do the same. That was the message of the Red Paint Man. Some of his brethren, along with a few of the Piney's have trickled into the city. Edith acts as our 'telephone operator.' She uses her abilities to keep open the lines of communication. We must discover a way to weaken our adversary. It was done in the past. It must be accomplished here. Remember, we are only 'pretending' that this is all fiction. Do your part. All of you. Do you have a part? Of course you do. Remember the words of Edmund Burke -- All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing...... I really do not like to go all scriptural on you, but I feel that I must. Remember the words of Moses our Redeemer, who said, "I have given you this day The Good Doctrine. Chose life and live. Go and do good things.'......... Well, what are you waiting for?

The Book of All Things New

The elves and cherubs flit about the city. They witness everything. A few of the smallest cherubs happened to be swooping and diving through the heights of the Wells Fargo Center just as the lights went out? What were they doing there? Well, they can sense the presence of evil and being such innocent souls they do their best to thwart it. The death toll would have been much higher. But quick, unseen, timely, little blood kisses planted on the lips of the injured did the trick. And some families will have their nearest and dearest with them this Yuletide who otherwise would not. I predict that these tiny wonders will be invaluable and a great help in the 'righting' of our corner of the universe....... I would so like to tell you more. But a trojan microbe or a bewitchment of some sort has insinuated itself into this machine. It seems the enemy is everywhere. So the voice of Zeb (me) must be silent for a bit. Perhaps I can go buzz.. buzz..buzz into that wilkravitz person's ear and have him take this enchanted box to some powerful geek (like wizards) who can banish these tiny demons and make the ether safe for decent folk once more.....;