Sunday, September 2, 2012

TOMAS and CONRAD WALK THROUGH SOUTH PHILADELPHIA

Vampires know how to step soundlessly through the city. Shoes don't scrap on the sidewalk. Sneakers don't squeak. Even dogs don't hear anything? Is it magic? No, just skill. Oh, they possess a magic of sorts. Some, such as Papa, are quite powerful. But this is not that. 

Cheap window air conditioners rattle and hum from second floor windows. Car doors slam as young dandies return to mom's house after a night at the bars. In fact, cars are everywhere. They choke the old, narrow streets, meant for push-carts and coaches.  You should see it when it snows. Plows (except for a few specially made, scaled down models) can't navigate the constricted byways and the ice holds fast til the springtime.

For the most part, they're silent. Tomas stares straight ahead. Conrad looks down at his shoes. The 'young' Spaniard sports his usual slim black jeans and clean white tee shirt. Conrad wears pleated chinos, an alligator shirt (the classic green one) and boat shoes. They gotta take this boy shopping. Looks like a Jehovah Witness on a day off. Ain't nobody gonna take this fella for a vampire.

Most streets hold tiny row houses. Some are less than fourteen feet wide. But a few have been chopped into 'duplexes.' Creaky floors hide under cheap nylon carpets. Basic, white, army housing type appliances huddle in shoe box kitchens. Scuffed up, bonded leather living room sets provide comfort, of a sort, in hot front rooms. Some people stare at the television, a thirty two inch, generic, picked up at the big box store or maybe off the back of a truck. And they do not know what walks among them. 

Now don't get angry. Yeah, they got real gentrified thoroughfares down South Philly too. But this street ain't one of 'em.

Tomas sees a kid tryin' a fish something out the smashed window of a worn, old Lexus. Just looks at him and the kid pees right there on the spot. But at least he forgets about the Lexus. Conrad bends down to pick up a sticky quarter. Mortal habits die hard. 

And then they're there, lookin' up at the second floor apartment of the 'main course.' ...... You gonna come in  with me? I know I've done this before, but I still need somebody. I'm not ready to do it myself - whispers Conrad........ Tomas just nods. Then he steps up to the door, sublimates his hand through the steel, Lowes special and fiddles with the lock from the inside. Eight heartbeats later it swings open. But he's careful. He holds it and it don't bang against the wall...... After you - he says..... Conrad gives him a look, but he enters and they silently pad up the narrow, dark stairs. 

It's dark in there. Only light comes from the television, some luxury real estate show they run after SNL. Yeah, like the two shits they got livin' here are gonna buy some...... The thief lays sprawled on the couch, one a them worn, microscopically thin leather jobs like I said. He wearin' his Saturday night, off-from-work suit, namely a seven for eleven dollar Hanes tee shirt (not the good ones like Tomas wears) and a matching pair a slightly stained briefs. Some girl lay partly on top a him. She got on panties (how anybody gonna wear nylon panties on a hot night like this?) and a slightly irregular Banana Republic wife beater bought cheap at a drive-in-movie flea market over in Jersey. Not the nice part a Jersey. Philly got a whole lot a really nice Jersey suburbs. This from the flea market part. Funny thing is, right across the highway they got one a the biggest, fanciest, Rolls Royce-Bentley dealers in the whole, entire country. Guess it all depends where you turn off.

But Mister and 'almost' Missus Cheap Shit is sleepin'. Weed'll do that to you. Tomas smells it. Every once in a while a vampire might experiment with it, 'cause it ain't no human food item. But Conrad didn't know what it was. So Tomas pick up the baggie and shove it down his pocket...... Then he go over to the girl. Tap her on the cheek. She fidget. Give her a little slap. She open up her eye and look at him. I guess she figure she gonna be shot or something, or maybe stabbed. She don't say nothin', just stiffen up and gasp. He say - Gimme the shirt......She look at Conrad and say - Who's he?..... Tomas say - He my accountant. Now gimme the shirt. (but she don't ask 'bout Tomas 'cause he standin' in her face and he can be a very compelling figure). So she whip that sucker off over her head and give it to him. Half a heartbeat later he shove it down her throat. Then he pick her up and plop her in a chair. Smiles so she can see his teef. And she knows....she knows. She like all them vampire fellas on TV, but she never think it gonna go down like this........ Tomas say- Don't move, less you wanna go 'guhk' too..... Guhk an old vampire word. Means like die, or death. But I do not know where it comes from. So she just shake her head and sit there. Ass sqeak a little on the leather, but that's all right.

Thief guy still sleepin'. Tomas step over, lean down and clip off a little bit a earlobe with his teeth. Guy jump up. He don't know what happenin'. Tomas grab him 'round the neck and say - Where the money? Where the old man money, you bitch? (who he robbed most recently). Guy munble somethin'. Tomas loosen up a little. Blood runnin' down the guy's face. Nose all snotty and all, but he say - In a closet. In a bedroom. In a can. Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Don't kill me......... Tomas say - Oh, I ain't gonna kill you. He is........

Then Conrad come  'round. You can see he nervous, but he dedicated. That boy really wanna learn this business. So he lean in to rip open the throat. But thief guy start wigglin' and squirmin'. Pantie-girl make like she fixin' a say somethin', but Tomas just slap her around a little bit so she shut up. That what slappin' 'round mean in her world. It like sign language for 'shut up, bitch,'.....so she does.

But Conrad never did get the neck. Got hisself a malf full a nose. Bit it clear off. Guy look like Skeletor.  This mean Tomas gotta hold on real tight, 'cause he like a fish. He like a big, bloody fish. Tomas say - Now! Now! Now!........ And Conrad dive in. Slips on the floor (wit' the blood and all). Falls on the guy. Knocks over some pole lamp, but finally does manage to stick his teef in the guy's neck. Pantie-girl watchin' it all. She goin' - Wee! Wee! Wee!..... Just like a little pig. She can't say too much, 'cause she got that wife beater down her throat. And like fifteen heartbeats later it all done. Tomas say - Here, hold her....... So Conrad sit on her like to catch his breath. She go - Ooof! Then the Spaniard go in a bedroom to get the money. When he come out wit' the can, he stuff 'bout five hundred dollar bills down the front a her all-sweated-up nylon scanties and she don't move, 'cause she still all amazed by the blue fire and all what ate up the thief guy..... He say - Here, go buy youself some cotton....... Then he grab Conrad and they go runnin' down them stairs..... Too complicated to walk, with all that blood stickin' to 'em, so Tomas grab the chubby guy and sublimate right up into the air. Five minutes later BOOM they home. 

Next day old man get most all his money back. Edith bring it over, 'long wit' a big bucket a KFC. She say she find it on a bus. But he so happy, he don't even know what she sayin'.

An twelve hour later he give half to the brand new Revel Casino Hotel Resort and Spa (they like when you say the full, formal name) in Atlantic City, New Jersey, in exchange for a cheeseburger,  fries and a all-you-can-drink Coca-Cola.

Justice done..... Case closed.

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Oh, and now for some Hollywood gossip. You know the classic Marx Brothers' movie, the one where the people sing HOO-RAY FOR CAPTAIN SPAULDING (it became the theme for YOU BET YOUR LIFE)? Well, there was a vampire in that scene. He's singing and bouncing like the rest of them. But if you go to L.A. today, eighty years later, he's STILL there. Look for him in the lobby of a certain banana leafed hotel some evenings, just sipping his drink and reading the trades. But don't let on.....He don't like that.


Saturday, September 1, 2012

DO YOU KNOW HOW PEOPLE REALLY DIE IN A MEGA TSUNAMI?

Most 'real' tsunamis are not like the ones conjured by Hollywood. The waves rarely reach more than twenty cubits (eighteen inches = 1 cubit, or the distance between your elbow & your fingertips.....on average). People die in the turbulence of a churning, foamy, 'high tide' and not beneath cloud-high, saline palisades. 

But that is not to say that Juggernauts never happen. When Krakatoa, east of Java awakened those on nearby Indonesian isles saw the sea  rise up, morphing into a monstrous, gelatinous, rampart, advancing on creation and pulverizing everything in it's wake. 

Few were afforded the luxury of aqueous suffocation. They were crushed like talc and scraped against the surface, til nothing was left...not even a scream.

Was that the biggest? No. Thera suffered worse. Most died terror stricken while still quite dry. Felled by a wave that washed the sun.

So why quibble? Two hundred feet is bad. Six hundred feet is worse. Ask the dinosaurs what they saw.

Well.... you can't do that. But Papa can. Madam Shang transcends time. She is beyond immortal. She is immune to entropy, existing like a flea in amber, or a tiny flaw in an otherwise, brilliant diamond. 

Yet she can radiate the illusion of change. And so she stands with Papa now, upon  a beach on what will someday become The Yucatan Peninsula, watching an island tumble from the sky. 

He stands transfixed, witnessing the seemingly impossible....... Do you like it?- she says....... He does not answer, but she knows he does. 

And the sky pulls back from the island, creating a black corona, as the atmosphere rushes 'way. One heartbeat later it happens. A light to shame the sun. A sound to shatter Heaven. Yet they remain, seeing it all, conscious of the heat, but feeling nothing.

Did you do that?- he asks....... No -says the demi-goddess. I had not reached perfection yet. Or more properly, he who made me, had not. This one's mortal birth was still far off. For the closest thing to humans were shrews. Would you care to see more?........ He nods...and she smiles.

Now Papa has seen great things. He's hovered near the surface of the sun. He's hob-nobbed with aristocrats on Europa (you may recall his sojourns with The Manta Ray People). But he cannot pierce the temporal veil. Though 'The Lady' can do that. 

So she takes him to another time, to places quite familiar. A cool, calm lake slumbers 'neath a yellow moon. Trees gird the hills and crickets fill the night. Wolves howl in the distance. And people chant and dance....

Papa is home..... The prodigal returns......

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I know we promised tales of Conrad's kill. But we do not create these things. We merely channel them. Perhaps tomorrow will be different.
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Friday, August 31, 2012

MADAM SHANG TAKES PAPA FOR A RIDE

Later that night, with the rising of The Blue Moon (two full moons in the same month) we discovered Papa was missing. His cubicle was empty, but his possessions were still there. Tomas ran his hand over the ram's horn, an old ram's horn and very large. It came from a long dead, prehistoric specimen. Ancient tribes from Celts to Hebrews and others quite forgotten used ram's horns as clarion calls. Indeed, modern Judaic congregations still sound the 'shofar' to herald each new Biblical year.

Papa's was from his mortal days. And it took thousands of years to recover. He found it sleeping at the bottom of chest, shoved off to the side, in a basement store room at the Penn Museum. You know how they (the vampires) hide there sometimes. And a small vial of his own healing blood passed on to the proper trustee ransomed it. The marks inscribed near the tip, glyphs actually, were his own, scratched into the keratin while still a boy. God works in mysterious ways. And who better to recognize that than vampires?

Annie said - The Chinese lady got him...... Edith knew it too. They all did. Powerful life-eaters can sublimate through many realities. And Madam Shang was a demi-goddess. ....... Annie said - Well, no more a that guy........ Tomas gave her a look. Edith wanted to smack her right across her pinched, little gutter snipe face. Even though the little bastid was a vampire, Edith didn't care. She was a true, Piney, witch in her own right. And no little vampire piss-pot was gonna scare her.

But Conrad had to feed. It was his time of the month. And he was scared to go alone. Tonight's meal is a thief, a skinny weasel who preys on the old, stealing their illusions along with the hard won cash. Did he see him in a vision? Of course. Conrad is still quite spiritual. So he readied himself and left. Tomas went with him and they silently walked through the city to a narrow street far down in South Philadelphia. You've seen the houses in SIXTH SENSE. And you've seen them in those Baltimore movies like DINER. You know what I mean. Like where Gina Davis lived in THE ACCIDENTAL TOURIST...... 'Yuppies' (do they still say that?) like them and pay big money. But then they festoon them in hardwoods and granite. Skinny, weasel thieves, inhabit rougher diggs, complete with water-stained ceilings and drooping floors. And we'll witness the 'culling' tomorrow. 

Sarah wanted to know what happened. She wanted to know where he was. Annie didn't care, so they gave her a couple twenty dollar bills and let her go run the streets. She loved that. Anybody come near her, she hiss like a cat. Show 'em the teeth and scare 'em off. They sense she's a vampire. Her magic works. They know. So she walks around buying custard, gobbling it up, then throwing it back up. Vampires can't eat real human foodstuff. But she likes the smooth, cold flavor, so she puts up with the unpleasant part. And since her innards in no way digest it, the rats and pigeons have quite a feast.

Sometimes she sees Marianne, or Celeste, or Roland, or Albion. They wave. But the elferina-vampirinas and elferino-vampirinos have little to do with her. She may be near them in age, human age that is, but the magic rests very differently on her. And no one truly knows why.

Where is she now? I do not know. Probably scaring alley cats, or chasing loud mouthed whores. A little 'girl' at play. 
Oh, she'll be drunk before dawn. I can guarantee you that. Sarah used to feel guilty when they let her run like this. But enough is enough and you can only take so much. Even vampires have their limits.
Edith feels bad about it all sometimes, but even she says 'go. let her run and get killed,' every once in a while. Sure, Annie didn't have an easy life. Yet there's more to it than that....

At first they were gonna use the Wee-Gee Board. Not that she needs it. But it's a tool, a way to focus. Then, on account a Madam Shang's ancient Han heritage, it was deemed more fortuitous to use the old Mah-Jong tiles, 'cause there's a way to tell fortunes with them too. So Sarah dragged down the old wooden box (they conjured and reconstituted all their far flung possessions when they moved into the new town house)and opened it, spilling the smooth, yellowed tiles all over the granite island. Such a clatter they made. Then Edith pushed them around to like shuffle them. She said a prayer, something learned from The Red Paint People and began.

Two tiny cherubs (exceedingly rare, innocent, adorable, pudgy toddler/baby vampires) watched through the window. Sarah knew they were there, but she loved the wide-eyed young ones, and so she let them stay. Edith loved them too. Everyone did. And ten heartbeats later the tiles began to 'speak.'

Papa was still a coherent entity. But he was very, very far away.....

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Thursday, August 30, 2012

LIKE SWIMMING THROUGH VISCOUS JADE

I am filled with a slow warm ennui. The house is quiet. Life-Eaters slumber. Edith slumbers too. My body floats between sleep and wakefulness. I fill a chair... a mohair club chair...placed in a sunbeam dancing into this den of vampires. 

But the 'lady' is still here. She tastes the air and licks the walls. I do not know what comprises the diet of all powerful (or almost all powerful) demi-goddesses. Apparently it is not generic raisin bran, for the bowl left as offering remains untouched. 

She waits for Papa. Madam Shang grows impatient. And I know she swirls about his body in the cubicle. But she wants him whole and awake. What plans (other than her own deep pleasure) I do not know. Humans and night-folk are as puppets to her. 

In the past, she and her kind manipulated kingdoms. They played Risk with actual thrones, both here, on the blue orb and on other worlds as well. I am told  (via chattering ghosts) she has enemies in The Seven Sisters. And please know I speak of stars and not some female colleges.

It is odd living with vampires. Toilet paper lasts forever. Orange juice does too. But they know Tomas in the market. He likes it that way. Seems more natural. He buys take-out hoagies for the homeless and distributes them to those encamped on steam vents. But during summer he  does not find them there, for they hide amidst the shadows of cool, dim arcades. 

I hear faint songs escaping from Annie's cubicle. Perhaps from her IPod or the television. She has a small one mounted on the wall and often falls asleep to MTV.

We think about the ghoulish one. We think about Johnny Jump Up. Tomas means to make the rounds. He means to visit caretakers. Cemetery caretakers, I mean. Sometimes they catch sight of him. He burrows in all over. Months go by without an attack. Years...and then this....... Maybe it's Madam Shang's doing. 

It's funny the way you hide from magic. Why does it scare you so? It's just a force...an intelligent force, though minus any discreet, easily discernible identity..... A nebulous, universal presence..... Not God..... Not demon.....benign and unattached. 

Do I dip my hand in the enchanted ethers?.... No, I don't. Not to this point. But I am considering it......  I spoke  to the air once. It was at a bingo game....a big bingo game sponsored by a casino in Atlantic City. Three thousand people filled the room.....the last game.... the cover all...... after thirty eight numbers I waited for one..... 38. And I asked the air dancing between the numeral inscribed ping pong balls to find it for me...... I asked reverently and politely.....And the air, cognizant of my sincere desire, obliged..... Three heartbeats later he found it. The caller found it and in a loud voice he said 'thirty eight!'........ I said - Bingo! and left ten thousand dollars the richer. 

Most cover alls run to fifty five numbers. Some even more. But that night was different. And I felt magic for the very first time.

Now, where is the Wassa crisp bread, for I am hungry. I hope we still have butter...

Oh, look! What luck!

(switches on a built-in stereo system...and the kitchen fills with Jiminy Cricket singing - When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, anything your heart desires can come to you...).... Then he butters the crisp bread, sits down by the island and eats....

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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

A TWENTY EIGHT THOUSAND YEAR OLD VAMPIRE REMEMBERS SOME STUFF,

Sarah and Edith got him into his cubicle. Looked like a plush, little walk in closet. You know, with those dark wood polished built-ins? They got 'em on HGTV and Million Dollar Listing, L.A. all the time. His has a lounge, or a couch, but it's really like a bed. Got fitted sheets and everything. Some guy they're friends with, a 'familiar' I guess, gave 'em all these real special buckwheat pillows. Annie says they smell like horse feed. But I notice she still snores real good every day.

Papa likes to sleep the way he did back in them neolithic times, which is to say sans loin cloth. Edith don't care. Think she used  to be a professional diaper lady at an old folks' jail. That's what she calls it. Makes jokes about it. But it was just a regular, pissed-up, nursing home. 'Cept they gave 'em meatball sandwiches and extra clean diapers on Saturday afternoon. That's when the company came.

Only thing is, Sarah seed all this fancy, Chinese, calligraphy writing scratched into the skin he got south a his belly button and north a the briar patch. Edith say it means something. She got out a menu-flier from some Chinese restaurant to see if any a the writin' matched. But whoever scratched him up wasn't talkin' 'bout no moo-goo-gai-pan, or General Sau's Chicken. And if he the general, why he not eatin' beef?

They 'bout to walk out and lock the door. It a real special lock. You would never even see it. But he start mumblin'. Sarah don't know what he say. She can read his mind a little bit, but mostly (at this stage) like if they playin' cards and she wanna know if he got Gin and all. Edith can do better than that 'cause she a witch. So she go back in and put her hand down on his belly. 'cause that where she feel it from. Then she start talkin' like Froggy from The Our Gang comedies. Eyes roll back. Whites flip up. Starts sweatin' under her titties and everything. Soaks right through her apricot lady-tee-shirt.

She say - Love me up good, you troglodite bitches. And gimme that pot a bear grease....... But apparently, they don't wanna give him no pot, 'cause like bear grease must a been la-dee-dah carriage trade stuff back then. So he jus' grab the pot and smear it 'round where it do the most good. Then he (Edith?) say something else. But it don't come out in English no more. And Edith startin' to get embarrassed. So they fasten the door and walk out. 

Sarah say - Why it smell like rosewood and ambergris in here?..... She been wit' the whales, so she knows.

Edith ain't got no idea. She just sit down at the little desk they got in the kitchen and start snoopin' through wilkravitz' Twitter stuff. You can never trust an ole, Piney, witchy-woman, you know. 

Starts readin' 'bout some .@LillithKain who live in Las Vegas and helps save animals, like baby seals and polar bears and all.... a real dedicated person, with a real good site. but that ain't what she want. She wanna find the nasty stuff, 'cause Papa got her all juiced up. But he don't got too much a that. So she say - Son of a bitch!... and slam it shut. Then she open the refrigerator and get herself a nice, big ice cream sandwich. Sarah in wit' Tomas by then, learnin' him to forget all about them mole-girls.

But it do smell all rosewood and musky in there. And if you listen real quiet, sound like a Chinese lady tellin' jokes and laughin'...

I Mister Never you Mind and I met a whole lot a Chinese ladies in my time...but never one like this...

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Tuesday, August 28, 2012

MADAM SHANG IS GREATLY ENAMORED WITH THE POWERFUL VAMPIRINO KNOWN AS 'PAPA'

The other vampires went out for air. Johnny Jump Up had that effect. They had to get clean. Tomas almost picked up the scent. There was a distinctive smell. The ghoul had it. Like rancid bacon and pissed up sheets. But it was only a homeless guy passed out in a bus shelter. Sarah took off her ring and slipped it on his pinkie. A flawless emerald.... Eight carats. If you know your way around gemstones, you know it costs more than diamonds. So now the guy was rich.

They went into a little jewel box of a place on Sansom Street. The Happy Rooster, I think it is. Bartender says they're getting ready to close. But he knows Tomas. He recognizes him, so he pours a round of vodka 'on the house.' And they sit there, gathered 'round the tiny bar, listening to Tony Bennett sing about 'The Good Times.' 

Nothing really happened in there. They just sat and decompressed. A foursome from one of the booths comes up to settle a check. Tomas says - Forget it. It's on me....... Guy don't want to let him. He don't like this. Starts making a big thing out of it. So Tomas just snaps his fingers (not that it's necessary, but it helps him focus). Four human heads instantly flop down to their chests, eyes closed and snoring. Then their well shod feet rise up four inches off the ground, as they silently file out the opened door and into a waiting taxi. Actually, they're just laying on top of each other in the back, but the driver don't care, 'cause he's sleeping too. Yet ten minutes later they all wake up and scramble out right outside some boutique hotel on Second Street. I guess that's where they were staying. I don't know. 

Sarah knows Tomas is thinking about his little mole-girl sweeties. He's thinking about Sylvia and Aura. These are the second two to use those names, but it's a tradition with him. Wander down to the subterranean tunnels. Find the wide-eyed, long haired beauties and spend the night (plus all of the following day) cosseted in the dark recesses of some never used, century old subway toilet giving each other long, soft, languid sponge baths. The mole people are so accommodating. Vampires bring them supplies in return for occasional sanctuary and other quite welcome favors.

But Sarah knows it's just because he's nervous. She knows it's really about the ghoul on the roof. So she takes his hand and leads him back to the townhouse. Conrad trots back like a puppy. He wants to duck into some bodega for a few scratch-offs. Mortal habits survive transformation, you know. But she won't let him. He pouts, til she promises to take him to gay-bingo some night.

They soundlessly move on, stopping only to look at their reflections in windows. Vampire vanity has no bounds. 

Then they climb the white, marble steps and disappear back into the townhouse. Edith is already sleeping. Annie is too. 

But Papa still sits there, bathed in silvery shadows, giggling into the dark. Invisible hands snake down his pants. Look, you can see the fabric move. And then he stops giggling. 

Madam Shang has found a new 'friend.'

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Monday, August 27, 2012

GHOSTS ARE NOTMONSTERS

When the last of her ashes rose up to the sky, the vampires came back inside. Sarah was quiet. She felt bad. Tomas repeated the prayer for the dead. Annie went back to coloring. Conrad had questions. He'd never seen the elusive ghoul known as Johnny Jump Up before. But none of the other night-folk wanted to talk. I really can't tell you where Mister Old Bones was. Neanderthals don't look that different. And Neanderthal vampires, apparently, are very self-reliant. He likes wandering around. Cities aren't his favorite, but he's still intrigued. Edith says he goes to the casino down by the river. I guess it's the lights and all the people. One night he won two hundred and sixty five bucks. Didn't know what to do when the machine spit out that voucher. He did bring it back though. They gave it to wilkravitz. And the next day he lost it. Not out on the street. In the casino, I mean.

He's typing this, but the words are mine. You know me. I'm the ghost from the cellar. And it's not that I go inside him, but I can work him like a puppet. You know, one of those marionettes.  The vampires are sleeping all snug in their beds. Boy, do they crank up the air conditioning. Edith don't mind, 'cause she's the hot flash queen of the Delaware Valley. And wilkravitz gives off more steam than a calliope. So he appreciates it too. Some ghosts gain strength from the cold. They're like electrical field ghosts. That's what I am. Winter time's my favorite. Hot, sluggish weather weakens me. Am I tied to this house? No. I can  go wherever I want. I ain't one a those crazy ghosts. Oh, yeah, right, I'm soon gonna moan. Still, they do know I'm here. Edith sees me. That little bastid, vampire girl does to. She hates when I touch her. Edith don't mind, though. Yesterday I made streaks in the flour. She was baking some kind a Piney crap... like flap-jacks, but different. The big, granite island in the kitchen was dusted with it. So when she looks up at the TV to see whether some goof from Michigan is gonna win the fifteen thousand dollars on that Meredith what's her name show, I write the answer on the counter. I write 'Mohenjo-Daro' (name of largest Harapan site in ancient India). Goof from Michigan said 'I don't know and I don't care.' Then she jumped up and clicked her heels, 'cause like she was 'walkin'.' That's what they do on that show. Lousy bitch. I would a won. Edith saw my answer and whispered - You got it...... I like Edith. She watches good shows. Some ghosts can change the stations. I can't. That's why I like her. It ain't the only reason, but it's one of 'em.

Papa's got a ghost too. But it don't come with the house. This one only sticks to him. Not that I know so much about it. I don't. I can't even see it. Think it talks Chinese. No, really. I ain't being funny. It really does sound like Chinese. I know from a short wave radio we had when I was a kid. I know what Armenian and Gaelic sound like too. They used to translate Burns & Allen (old radio show) into Armenian. But the guy who played Harry Von Zell sounded crazy. My dad said - Sounds like they're shovin' hot peppers up his ass...... My mother said - So, what do you know? Maybe it's a custom over there...... I miss them, but they ain't ghosts. So we don't run into each other that much. 

Look, I am not a monster. I am not a horrific 'shade.' I'm just some kid from the tenth grade, who died of polio. You might say I lost my body while I was still ,technically, alive. They put me in an 'iron lung.' It was horrible. Google it. You'll see. 

I'm gonna drift out to the backyard. It's real little. City houses don't have much. But we still got enough room for two or three chairs, some planters, an alcanthus tree, I think it is. You know, the ones they got growin' 'round train tracks. The birds, mostly pigeons, know who I am. I like to sit there and just look up at the sky. People don't think about ghosts being out in the daytime, but we are. 

I wish they had a dog in this house. Dog's like ghosts. There used to be a dog here, but they 'put him to sleep.' That means the doctor wanted too much money to keep him alive. So they shot him up with a whole lot a poison instead...... just like the Nazis.

It's been real nice talking to you. Oh, you wanna know what Annie's doing now? She's dreamin' she's killin' the kids on Glee. She dreams that all the time. She's nuts. 

But I'm not a monster. And I just wanted you to know.

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