IN THE REALM OF BLUE SHADOWS

They spoke not with words, but with clicks, or rather sharp little pulses of energy produced via rapid contractions of the lungs and sinuses. These organs functioned properly above the surface of the sea, yet performed different duties down under. And frequent trips up into the gaseous portion of our atmosphere were unnecessary. Those elements required for respiration entered their bodies through the skin. 


Papa comprehended this method of communication, because he was so old and had visited them countless times. I know not all the details, but some say he spent years with them and others talk of centuries. Perhaps his extraterrestrial friends, the sentient manta ray people of Europa, are not too different?


They took him deep within the caves, each limned with a thin layer of bio-luminescent microbes bathing everything and everyone in soft, blue light. Luna stayed behind him. She was quite unconcerned about her nakedness, for all about her were likewise exposed. Males and females had similar ventral slits, though the interior equipment was conventional in every way. Occasional, something would pop out, but the males concerned showed no discomfort. It all seemed natural.


Two among their number came up to accompany Papa into another, more commodious chamber, carpeted with sugary, fine, pink sand. Luna followed. There, at the end of a long, straight gallery sat the leader. Well, maybe 'sat' is not the right term, for he reclined against a smooth concavity worn into the old, coral surface. I believe the material was brought down from sunnier levels generations ago.


The whole place resonated with scores of Mer-folk 'voices'. Papa used hand signals. I suspect they were more complex than that, compromising  something like a lingua franca for the many nations of the undersea world.


Luna did her best. She tried to pick up what she could telepathically. And due to her training (at the hands of The Anti-Enchantment-Bureau) she understood a lot.


The vitality of the race, if one could call it a race, was declining, although their inherent attractiveness still came through. They needed sunlight. Some bands initially tried living pelagic lives upon the surface, forming sizable 'rafts' of homo-aquaticus upon the golden waves. Yet even sea folk grow tired, descending down to the ocean floor, there to take their rest.


Papa heard the lament and promised to sing it to the dry-folk. He knew there could never be a wholesale migration back to most coastal areas, but he felt sure certain safe havens could be arranged.


When it was time, they broke to take their supper, dining on succulent oysters and other delicious bivalves. They had prisoners for the vampires. Mer-folk blood is much like ours, but Papa declined. Luna, it must be said, was eager for this new experience, however Papa restrained her. She did not like it, but bowed to his greater wisdom, accepting samples of his own blood instead.


This continued for ten nights, the Mer-folk equivalent of our week. At one point a ship anchored up above and via speakers lowered on stout cables, serenaded the foreign creatures with sounds of dry-folk life. Another dropped hundreds of crates of live shrimp, a delicacy in these parts and much appreciated by those in attendance. 


Luna went off to examine Mer-folk settlements spread 'round about, paying particular attention to the young ones, searching for any signs of solar deprivation...... And she found many.


Finally, Papa was called up to the surface, so that he could address (via Skype)a hastily formed United Nations committee. None of this was public. How could it be in a world where many cultures still denied biological causes for disease and others believed righteous souls of 'lesser' communions writhed in torment for all eternity?


Perhaps one day such ludicrous concealment will not be necessary.


But unfortunately... now it is...


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THE VAMPIRES ENCOUNTER MERMAN AND DESCEND TO SOMEPLACE NEW

The huge whale surfaced just off the coast of a small island. A lacy, veil of windswept clouds raced 'cross a yellow moon. And then he began to sing. Tomas felt the pulsating rhythms. He pressed into Luna. She felt them too. Ten heartbeats later, the opaque, rubbery barrier, secreted by the leviathan, began to deteriorate. Strips of thick, elastic mucus peeled back, exposing the vampire couple to the chill, night air. The lights of Bermuda glowed over the horizon, but our preternatural twosome was headed somewhere else. 


Tomas kicked off from his gigantic steed. Luna did the same. They swam through the sea  toward the island, wading up onto a crowded rookery. Masses of sea birds, large gulls, or perhaps some type of albatross, screamed at their advance, surrendering just enough space for the invaders to sit down. 


He brushed back her hair, flicked little bits of seaweed from her smooth, white skin and kissed her. She trembled, not from the cold, but in anticipation. Papa was practiced. Papa was thorough. Papa was good. And he satisfied himself, there in that enchanted place, before an audience of dozing smelt-eaters and their wide-eyed, fuzzy chicks. Luna found pleasure too. And they held each other upon the soft, gray sand.


The vampirina listened to his heartbeat. She heard it quicken and looked up as the first merman emissary broke the surface. How very human he looked..... How very 'terrestrial'... a well formed head.... a strong, thick neck and broad, shapely shoulders. He bore no sash or torque. There was no outward sign of rank. But he said something, or rather made some foreign, sea-folk sounds. Papa responded in Old Vamperigo, a very early dialect, akin to ancient Lusitanian tongues spoken in Western Iberia eons ago.


They got up, stepped down along the beach, careful not to harm their avian neighbors, and walked into the sea. Fifteen heartbeats later, the silvery wavelets reached their chins and they began to swim out to a place where a squadron of merman circled 'round them. Some reached out to stroke their thighs and calves. Sea-folk love exploring dry-folk legs. And Luna gasped as they tickled some where else...... Soon after, the mermen descended. The vampires followed. And the last thing to show above the moonlit ripples was the glistening, rounded orbs of Luna's cheeks...


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Tomas a.k.a. Jonathon, Reads to Sarah From The Pages of an Old Vellum Text

He wanted to go, but they did not chose him. Sarah was glad. She remembered their sojourn in the parallel world. So they sat together on an old rooftop, deep within the loft district of Old City (Philadelphia has a lot of such places) and he read to her from a relatively small, old vellum book. In times passed, during the middle ages, these small volumes were called 'ladies' books,' or sometimes 'students'  texts.' 


Tomas sublimated into the rare book stacks of the main library, on The Parkway, to get it, but the librarians knew and trusted him. He'd done the like before.


Listen to this - he said. Synods of sea-folk occupied bays, estuaries and coves throughout the known world. Hibernia, that means Ireland, had many such colonies, as did Normandy and Brittany. Two factions fought  over the spot where the Thames met the sea. And mermen were known to reconnoiter the Seine right up to Paris.


Sarah said - Did you ever see any? Did they have them in Spain?......... No, I don't think so - said Tomas. You'll have to remember, The Caliphate of Cordoba was much more advanced militarily. We had the beginnings of what would become gun powder. Our blades were the best, as were our ships. Divers descended down into the sea via diving bells. Do you know what they are?........Yes - said his consort. I know the trick...third grade science. Plunge an upside down glass down into a sink filled with water and the inside stays dry........ 


Some of the large bells held three men. They'd go down at night. Not too deep. I think fifty cubits was the norm. You know, pearl fisherman from various islands in the Indian Ocean were the best...divers, I mean, next to sea people, that is. Now mer-folk are diurnal. They crave sunlight. That's why they want to reclaim the old, coastal homes today. Darkness frightens them. It's cold. Oh, they can bear cold, but they do not like it. But sometimes a juvenile would be out...not a child...more like our 'elves.'  And such young ones tend to be naive. They're careless. They come too close. Curious creatures too. And we all know how fatal that can be........... He showed her an 'illuminated' (highly colored) panel depicting the abduction of a mer-folk prince and princess.


What did they do, kill them? - asked Sarah....... No - said Tomas. They'd take them hostage. The sea people truly value life and love their children to the utmost. Cruel practices like that drove them off. A rare pitch from the eastern Mediterranean, able to burn underwater, helped too. So they left our shores, retreating to The Azores. They say some frequent The Canary Islands to this day........ He gave her the book. She looked at the pictures, fine, medieval representations of fantastical sea kings and their 'dogs,' fearsome barracuda-like things, able to slice through the depths and tear into prey.


Are you at all familiar with The Canary Islands? - he asked........ No - she said............ Then I'll tell you - whispered the vampire. There is an island, Cubierta en Palmas  (covered in palms), a beautiful place hiding a terrible secret. The ground along its western flank is unstable. Some say vast, mountain sized rocks, granite 'icebergs,' if you will, could smash into the ocean at any time. Others say in ten thousand years. Who knows? But whenever it happens, a gigantic wall of water will race across the sea, crushing all who live upon our eastern shore.......... Don't you mean 'drowning'? - she said....... No, crushing...scraped along the surface by a dark, cold god-like hand. Even the bones will be pulverized.


Could the mer-folk do things to hasten this event? - she asked.


Tomas didn't answer, but he leaned in and turned the page..... showing her the truth.


And ten hundred miles to the east, in the waters 'round Bermuda, Papa and Luna approached the first deep sea bastion.....




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SOME BACK STORY ON THE MER-FOLK AND THEIR 'REQUEST'

Papa was briefed by some guys from Foggy Bottom.  That's headquarters for the state department. It's where Secretary Clinton has her office. They know all about the fishy people (actually 'dolphiny,' but, hey, it's a Chicken of The Sea thing, so we're stuck with it) and it ain't gonna be easy. 


Can't just bring 'em into the country. In this case, the territorial waters, because they are hominids. They are human, after a fashion. And they do have their own form of political organization. Plus, you know how parochial most quasi-educated citizens are. What would they think? We're just gonna let in a whole bunch a totally nude strangers with fish tails? And if them, why not the Mexicans? They got cultural rights to the South West too, you know. What's more, they ain't naked and they got legs.


Right now, the guys in Washington are lined up behind the 'Down Under' solution. Send them all to populate the waters along certain almost empty stretches of  Western Australian coastline. Lots a fish. Nice climate. Potential income. What tourist wouldn't LOVE swimming with the Mer-folk? You think swimming with the dolphins is so special? The hell with  dolphins. Who needs 'em?


Luna says they got the same number of genes and chromosomes as we do. So like what... we gotta  change the marriage laws again? And what  about the kids? What are they gonna  look like? Could they compete in the Olympics? Would it be legal? Winter Games would be out. Hockey'd pose problems...skiing too, I guess. Would they be 'resident aliens,' or what? We're not gonna just surrender prime riparian territories.. Think of the potential mineral rights. Do they even use money? How would they carry it? I'm guessing the average cloaca can only hold so much.


Preliminary word from their 'Great Speaker' eighty-sixes the Aussie deal. Ain't their homeland. No ancestral ties to the place. They want to reclaim old ceremonial centers. I told you about those massive undersea structures near The Bahamas, didn't I? It's like a city. It's 'their' city. Oh, and there's another one off  Avalon, New Jersey we ain't even 'discovered yet. Think what's gonna happen the first time some pinky ring bastid in a forty two foot sedan cruiser runs over a nice, little fishy-boy. Who's laws would apply? 


And we can't just let 'em in illegally, like an invasive species, 'cause you know SWAMP PEOPLE'd be out there in five minutes harpoonin' the shit outta them. Mermaid ass steaks...two hundred bucks a pound. 


Look, this ain't no joke. Apparently, they are not without some muscle. Fact-finders indicate they CAN effect sea levels via judicial changes to undersea currents. We've seen the ancient dams. The whole state of Florida could be Ariel-central in three months..... And you know Disney ain't gonna stand for that.


Maybe Canada wants 'em?


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A LITTLE VAMPIRE TRAVELING MUSIC PLEASE

Done. It was settled. The mermaid-hag goes free. Doctor Franklin was convinced he couldn't learn anymore from her. She was crazy. She was old. She had to go home. We can't tell you exactly how old, because we don't know. Some sea captain... a whaling era sea captain... sold her to the Anti- Enchantment-Bureau way back when it was still called The Junto. This was like in early Federalist times. You know, lots of blinding, white neck linen and Beau Brummel top hats. If you need a visual, Google the Cholly Knickerbocker guy from The New Yorker. 


Medics seem to think mer-folk age like whales... and some of them are believed to be more than two hundred years old. Not much, compared to vampires and all, but, hey, I'll take it. Just in case you're wondering, it's me, wilkravitz. They got me back doing channeling duty. Didn't get no new sneakers yet. I'll let you know when and if....


So it's gonna be Papa, Luna and the crazy, old, cackling sea-hag. I think they decided on Luna because she was originally some kind of physician and they always send a saw-bones on these things. Remember STAR TREK?


A helicopter's takin' 'em out to the western edge of The Gulf Stream. Papa wanted to sublimate, but the sea-hag opted for the 'sky ride,' as she called it and after all she's been through, they gave it to her.  It's one of those big choppers, like the army has, 'cept ain't no army guys flying it. This is strictly a Doctor Franklin (and that means Anti-Enchantment-Bureau) joint. But they wear mirrored sunglasses too. And some of 'em talk with these phony, real clipped, 'South'ron' accents, so what's the diff? Like army guys dipped in a little bit a Hogwarts sauce. That's what they are.


Got a little tank for the old mermaid. Has to have a lid so the water don't go sloshing all around. Couldn't get her no raw salmon. Not enough time. So some guy ran out to the Acme (Albertson's to non-Philly people) and grabbed a whole lot a Mrs. Paul's crap. (n0, I DON'T mean that it's actual crap. We just talk that way, so deal with it. I eat it too. So shut your mouth. OK?). She don't like the bread crumb part, but the stuff 'under' is all right.


Papa and Luna are already naked. They have to be naked when they hit the water, in order to meld with the whales. And did I tell you they once had a 'thing' going? I know I must have. Look, if you're a regular reader, you know all that. Sarah almost bit off a titty. But now she don't care. She's the 'wife.'  This one (Luna) is just the slut. That's how it is. Like in the British aristocracy.


Pilot takes 'em down real low. WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP from the blades echos up from the surf....waves fan out in concentric circles. Wind blowin'. Moon shinin'. Gulls screamin' (they feed out here.) Whales singin'. Papa takes Luna's hand. He leans in and kisses her, as they jump. Then about eight mirrored sunglasses guys tip the tank and send the loony sea-hag back where she belongs.  Oh, she was SO happy, clappin' her hands and singin' Popeye the Sailor..... Funny thing is, when she hit the water she got younger. Not that she looked any better...Just acted it. Started beatin' her ratty old fluke up and down, just like a dolphin. Papa let her go. She knows the way. But he did wrap her up in a real tight hoo-doo (magic barrier) to keep away the sharks and orcas.


'Bout forty eight heartbeats later, he sees the whale.... real big one, like a fin, or a great blue... something like that. Rises up from the depths like a giant ghost, or maybe like a Jules Verne submarine. You know they can be more than one hundred feet long? 'Bout fourteen times longer than Papa. If  you were a whale and say like six feet tall, them little vampires would be just under five and a quarter inches.... like a salt shaker, or something like that..... Like the native guy in King Kong The Original's mouth...... So instinctively Luna tenses up. But Papa starts rubbin' her flanks and ticklin' her thighs to make her relax. Then he wraps her in his arms real tight and they sink down onto the great, broad back of this prince of the sea. Ten heartbeats later they stretch out flat, belly to the beast, as the mucus starts oozing from specialized pours, enveloping them in a thick, heavy, protective cocoon...


We couldn't travel like that. We'd die. But vampires can. It's how they cross the sea. It's how they've always crossed the sea.


You know the Story 'Bout Jonah? Well, in reality it was something like this...


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THIS WHAT OUR FAVORITE VAMPIRINA CAN DO

I cannot do the channeling of vampiric communications this evening due to unforeseen circumstances. Will explain tomorrow. Til then, you might want to look down and click on the post right under this... The one called ~~~SOMETIME IT AIN'T THE CAT WHAT GOT YOUR TONGUE. I know a lot of us take Sarah for granted, but take a look. See how she do when she get mad....


Oh, and one more thing... The crazy, old mermaid-hag wanna go home and Doctor Franklin say might let her.....(more on EL MUNDO MERMANIA tomorrow)


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vampire wonderland: SOMETIMES IT AIN'T THE CAT WHAT GOT YOUR TONGUE......

vampire wonderland: SOMETIMES IT AIN'T THE CAT WHAT GOT YOUR TONGUE......: Sarah strolled through the semi-arid parklands, so like the California she was used to. Jonathon's forebearers had tombs there. He showed he...