Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: GHOSTS ARE NOTMONSTERS

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: 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 ...Ghosts are just people who've lost their bodies, but managed to hold onto the good stuff..... please click on to that little sentence up above for a really nice episode you might enjoy...

THE MAN IN THE LEADEN BOX....... 4/18/13

The old man studied his hands. And they looked more like a grotesque panel in a gothic, graphic novel. So he called for a stethescope and they gave him one. Then he scootered over to the chill, metal wall and listened. But all that came back was white noise. Vampires can be quite still, like waxen figures in strange museums. It's instinctive. No practice necessary. Their joints don't lock... muscles don't cramp. Nothing happens. They just sit there, or stand there and that's the way it is. 

Jonathon wandered the markets of  Old Cordoba... the Street of Rubies.... Book Sellers' Lane... Apothecary Square. He loved that place. Spices from Serendip. Gossamer fabrics from far Cathay. Silver menorah from the Caucasus. And Johannan was with him. Mortality was his. Those words may sound incongruent to souls faced with such a prospect. But vampirinos feel different. He purchased a parrot. He liked parrots. Some rabbis, especially they who believed in 'the arc of a death,' as well as 'the arc of a life,' thought they might be spirits mistakenly (if such mistakes are possible) incarnated in avian form. And our eighteen year old aristocrat was eager to find out. So his servant (Johannan) bore the bright eyed, irridescent beastie on his forearm and they proceeded on their way.

Now the leaden box had certain features unknown to the prisoner within. Apparently, Tobais Maxwell's billions could work subtle magic even a vampire couldn't 'see.' There were sharp, tiny tubes protruding from the exterior of the trap. And the Maxwell patriarch had to be careful when he approached its surface lest one didn't pierce him. Via a system of intricatly installed magnetics (plus a cunning, little remote control device) he could 'push' these needle sharp hypodermics far into the black interior.... like a magician's box bristling with many swords.  And in this way impale the vampire on multiple axises. Then other needles, coming in from other angles (but not going all the way through) could syphon out the blood.  What he had was basically a 'milking' machine made for reluctant donors. And Jonathon was certainly one of those. 

But blood, taken in this way, might restore health and vigor, though it could not grant immortality, for there is no give and take. A certain closeness... A certain agreement is necessary for that.

Jonathon approached the stream... dropped his clothes and walked in, savoring the cool, fast moving current. And then he began to swim.

Blessed be the power of dreams...
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A VAMPIRE PRINCE IN THE LEAD LINED ROOM ......... 4/17/13

Jonathon awakened. His mind cleared and he had absolutely no idea where he was. First of all, it was dark...beyond dark. This was absolute darkness, unseen even in the vastness of space. He carefully moved 'round, using his hands like a blind man. The floor was smooth and cool, so were the walls. No seams. No bolts. No nothing. A cube... He was in a cube, roughly fifteen feet square. And it was made of lead. Escape was futile and he knew it. So he sat down with his back toward a corner, hugged his knees and thought.

Other night-folk, 'younger' ones faced prisons like this. Elferinos and elferinas knew. Many of these pubescent vampires crossed the ocean sealed in cramped, leaden casks, tossed by the currents and lost for decades before (finally) touching shore. Imagine sensing the crushing weight of the abyss just beyond the metal. Luck ones came to rest on their backs, or maybe (second best) on their sides. Some faced years upside down, wedged 'tween a rock and a hard place. A few never escape. 

But the 'elf' folk have tools. There are things they can do. Magical thoughts envelope pathetically trapped beings in clouds of 'reality.' Other times and other places congeal 'round the victims like mold on a berry, til they see better things and taste salty blood. And in this way time passes. Occasionally friendly whales nudge them on their way. The night-folk have a treaty with the princes of the sea going back to the days and nights of Lemuria. Or was it Mu? Indeed, some true vampires cross the sea on cetacean steeds. But that's a whole other story.

Jonathon cried. At least his tears were salty. And after a time, he too had visions... of plant filled courtyards and tinkling fountains.... of poetic troubadours and well formed horses. He was home, safe, among the sunny hills of Old Al-Andaluz, surrounded by the poetry of classical Arabic, Aramaic and liturgical Hebrew. Then he took up the oud and he played. How sweet the Berber song.

But what would he do when the moon came (his time to feed)? How would he find food then?

A few miles away, in the town house, Edith told the others she 'felt' him. And the twenty eight thousand year old (though resembling a thirty two or thirty three year old Richard Gere) being known as 'Papa,' smiled. For him, at this time, that was a lot.

Yet other beings 'felt' him too... and they were much nearer. The ninety four year old sickly billionaire sat staring at the dense, gray wall. Then he raised a palsied hand and a functionary wheeled him closer, so he could reach out and feel the cool, unyielding surface. He thought of the treasure within. Vampire blood does many things. It can heal wounds, cure melancholia and confer immortality. And the old man, known as Tobias Maxwell savored each sweet possibility.

While sealed within his six sided shell, the vampire, known as Jonathon went riding.... 'Drinkers of The Wind,' they called them..... Horses of the desert.

And the young, mortal Andalusian aristocrat rode for miles.....
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ON THE NIGHT OF THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING ... 4/16/13

Jonathon helped us make some progress. The streets of Philadelphia are a little safer. Nights are quieter. Thugs and drug dealers squeeze into cracks, even during the day when the vampire vigilantes aren't out there. But Jonathon didn't rise tonight. He's been taken. And no one knows where he is. Some people went to hear him preach (what else would you call it?) in that place under the bank building on The Avenue of The Arts. But he wasn't there. So they discussed all the things they could do to help humanity and then they went out and did them. A few went for pancakes and sausage instead, but even they left a nice tip. 

Sarah doesn't know where he is. She saw the heavy, lead-clad horse drawn van. She saw the men in the  strange black suits. But she was drugged too. Vampires can be drugged now. Someone figured it out, or at least rediscovered it. Sure the alcohol tinged blood of certain victims provided a little tingle. But this was different. This was helplessness. 

So she went back to the townhouse and slept in their special chamber... alone upon the rose scented sheets.... Edith knew she was there, they all did. Conrad whispered to his eight year old mother in her six and a half or seven year old body. He said - Where's the other one? Where's Jonathon, or Tomas, or whatever he wants us to call him? But Annie was busy coloring..... Wilma Flintstone cracking giant eggs in a rustic, lumpy pan... it calmed her down. So she told him to shut the hell up and leave her alone. 

All the vampires in town, locals and others come to hear  Jonathon's speeches, obviously know about the Boston bombings. I don't know. I hate to call what he does sermons, because if they are.... I don't know, but that makes it a whole other thing. Small bands of night-folk quietly walk passed the town house. They don't want to attract too much attention. They just want to see if he's there. 

Edith, their Piney Woman friend, clairvoyant and housekeeper, called one of the 'familiars.' He arranged for more security. So now some guys with dark windbreakers and concealed guns, chew gum and hang around the place. Must be retired or off duty cops. Night-folk nod to them. They nod to the night-folk. Everybody's cool. Edith runs out with this hot apple cider (hard cider) drink she makes. The guards take it. Too cold for beer. Even some of the passing vampires have some. You know how they are with alcohol?

Baylah wants to mount a posse. She knows where they can get some dogs. Conrad knows to from when he was an almost monk. The brotherhood he belonged to had these hounds. Used to mix vampire grease in with their Kibble n Bits. You know, the fatty residue that's left when a vampire dies? Claim it makes them demi-vampires or something. Trouble is, no one feels like doing much of anything. 

They're thinking 'bout what happened. 'Make the world a better place.'..... That's what they were trying to do. And I'm talking about vampires. Yeah, some humans too, but mostly vampires. Moral ones, 'noble' ones just are that way. Look, I can't tell you every night what 'noble' vampires are. You gotta be a regular, or at least like a semi-regular 'round here. OK? I do not mean to jump on nobody, but you know how it is. 

Barbarity rules the range, people. And what are you gonna do about it? I will repeat that Kabbalah thing Jonathon likes, or at least the Coke commercial version of it ~~~ You give a little love and it all comes back to you. You're gonna be remembered for the things that you say and do..... Right versus wrong. Who you gonna vote for?

'Downtown' Boston's all roped off. Patriots' Day is changed forever, or until people start to forget. Who remembers Pearl Harbor Day, right?

I once sublimated through this place, it was a death camp somewhere in Europe during the 1940's. Saw a big vat, just like a giant tin shoe box, right out in the open. Thing was all filled with dismembered human body parts. Some looked neatly amputated, like the heads. Some looked ripped off. Like a turkey leg what got twisted off a still intact bird. Big old thigh bones stickin' out a whole mess a white, people-hams. That is just what they looked like.... strange, skin-covered chunks a meat with skinny human calves and feet glued to 'em. Torsos to... not with arms, but with all the man and lady parts intact. Well, judgin' by size, some were boy and girl parts. And they were just there, floating (although packed very tight) in a salty brine, so devil-doctors could fish 'em out an' have fun with 'em. The sky was grey. The buildings were too. A few pathetic still breathing martyrs walked around. A few devil-people laughed and tortured 'em. And that was how it was. I couldn't do nothing, bein' a disembodied spirit and all.

Thing is, you gotta ask yourself... are you disembodied spirits, or do you have hands?

Make things better.
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Tomorrow night they'll tell you what that ninety four year old Maxwell guy wants from Jonathon, but this night is different, so we won't talk 'bout that...
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LIKE FIVE HOUR ENERGY, but better...... Tobias Maxwell Gets His Hands On 'The Elixir' ... 4/15/13

They had suits too, special heavy garments made from thin filaments of lead.... like 'footsie' pajamas with gloves and ski mask-like hoods. There was some extruded carbon in the mix to bring down the weight. The driver of the Black Maria wore one and three other men did too, but they rode inside. Now it was just a matter of time until they had him. 

True, there were other vampires out there. A certain number of 'strangers' were in town now, attracted by our Andalucian's (Jonathon's) teachings. But the old man with all the money wanted this one. He wanted Jonathon. It had to be that way, ever since his forebears and the vampire crossed on the same ship... ever since the months on The Welcome. Three hundred and thirty four years is a long time to wait. Not everyone on board knew... but the Maxwells did. And now they get the prize. The old man is ninety four years old. Perhaps his money and the medical services it pays for can buy him a few more years? Yet life-eater blood guarantees so much more.

So he sent out the coach. Tourists liked it. They took pictures next to it. The guy up on the bench with the heavy black suit was a little strange. But maybe that's just the way they did things here? Ever see the Mummers? Google them. You'll see.  Thus the black, threatening conveyance rolled through the city, passed Benjamin Franklin impersonators and ladies in Betsy Ross drag.

Sure it was safer. Vampire vigilantes saw to that. People were nicer too. Jonathon's teachings and all. But others were still the same. The girl with the curly hair had been compromised. They turned her and that was easy. Maxwell's men made a salve. I don't know what's in it. I'm just a disembodied spirit. I'm not a dead scientist. I'm a dead bra and girdle salesman. OK!? So don't blame me. Look, I signed on to be a narrator... like what you call a 'muse.' We don't give 'em the idea. We just help 'em get it out there. You don't like it? Go read Moby Dick. 

But the curly haired girl had the salve. And she smeared it on her lips... And she kissed him. They knew it would go that way. Maxwell's men, I mean. Jonathon's sympathetic. He's always been that way. She had a problem and he helped her. I don't think he even detected it. guess they used a 'no sting' formula. 

He's drugged now... special drugs, formulated just for night-folks like him. Hear it's based  on an old concoction, first mixed by the necromancers of ancient Ithica........ And I feel what he feels, since I am the conduit and the teller of the tale. He walks with Sarah. They circumvent Fitler Square, a small park, just a few square blocks, in an old residential quarter of Center City. Jonathon talks of his youth... the bazaars of Cordoba and the harbor of old Sevilla. Sarah holds his hand. She hears the slurred speech. She stops when he stops. They sit on a bench. The trees are in first leaf now. No more bare branches, each node kissed by a fat, little pale green newcomer.  You can see them in the streetlights. Jonathon likes that. And he almost falls asleep. Sarah wants to go back to the tunnels, or maybe a snug berth somewhere deep in the storage rooms of a favorite museum. She'll even chance the townhouse, if it comes to that, even though they've been avoiding it, since all that's happened in the city. Not everyone approves of safer streets and nicer people, you know. 

And she almost has him to his feet, when the heavy, black, windowless coach rounds the corner. Odd how quiet horses can be. Perhaps she's been drugged too? Maybe there was something in that can of Sterno?... Who knows. 

The Black Maria stops at the curb. The man in the dark lead suit looks down. Thin tendrils of steam rise up from the fine, matched percherons, as the heavy, rear door opens and the three matching henchmen jump down.

Jonathon says - Look! A street show!.... And Sarah tries to protect him, when the strange, shadow figures drag him off. Vampires cannot sublimate through lead, you know. But the suits weren't even necessary, since the old, Ithican recipe worked so well.

Nineteen heartbeats later she was all alone, sitting on the cobbles, bewildered and dizzy, as the monstrous darkness pulled away.... And she would have disappeared into the sunlight, if a caring vampirina from Norfolk hadn't found her. So she spent the day cocooned and safe with her new friend.

But Jonathon was gone and none knew where to find him...

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A VAMPIRE MAKES A JUDGEMENT CALL ..... 4/14/13

Nobody said a word. But Sarah knew Jonathon was gonna say something. The curly haired girl made like she was real interested in braiding her hair, but she looked up at him every once in a while. So they sat there, bathed in the shimmery, orange glow from the Sterno. Cave people probably conversed in such a light. Bet Mister Old bones would know. And a breeze blew through. Odd, but it happens, even down deep underground. Air circulates through the tunnels. Perhaps it leaks down through cracks, or maybe it's the breath of mole people long gone.

Jonathon inhaled. Not that he draws any benefit from the oxygen. Vampires don't need that. But this one, even after almost one thousand years, was still a creature of habit. ..... The curly haired girl said - I want it. I need it. Please.... Jonathon considered his response and said - What you need is vindication. You want to prove yourself. It's not even revenge. And you certainly don't need this burden for that....

The curly haired mole girl whispered - You did it for her. You did it for Sarah. I know her from before. I remember. She had that shop...that book shop... Philadelphia After Dark. I go up to the surface. I know...... Jonathon said - That... was a private matter of the heart. And it has nothing to do with you....... She sniffed and gave him a look, but he could smell the desire rising up from her skin...... The vampire said - Living well is the best revenge.... Oh, I don't know if I should even do this, but I will..... What are you gonna do? - said the girl...... Empower you a bit - said the life-eater. Then he bit his lip, releasing a tiny trickle of blood, and whispered - Kiss me..... Now Sarah never relinquished her spot. She was his consort, after all. And this was no threat to her, merely an easy way to satisfy a troublesome acquaintance.... So the delicately featured mole girl leaned close, resting on her hands, as she found his mouth and savored the blood..... He caressed her throat as she drank. Then he leaned back and snuggling against his Sarah. 

The curly haired girl sat down. She seemed drugged and, in truth, she was. Something within him was now within her. Whether the blood was an agent, or merely a symbol, who knows? But the girl was different now. Not a vampire. Still a mortal, though possessed of a certain edge. And her dreams might still come true. He gave her a note written on a fifty dollar bill... the phone number of an agent... a 'familiar.' Tomorrow, or maybe tonight...(who can keep track of planetary rotations down there?)  she'd siphon a thin stream of water from a long forgotten pipe (the never used late Edwardian 'water closets' were still there, under a thin coating of lime-like mineral deposits and plaster dust) cleanse her skin, change her garments and climb up into the sunlight, there to call the man and get some money..... The vampiric infusion would serve her well.... A certain focus.... A certain magnetism. Bet she gets some bookings this time 'round? Hollywood, here she comes. But this  time with a little bit of, well.... you know.

A  short time later, Jonathon craved a walk... not underground.... not in the unused subway excavations, but up on the surface. It was dark then and he knew it. So he took Sarah's hand and they went. 

But up above, away from the streetlights, the Black Maria was waiting......

And the curly haired girl had something on her lips too...
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JONATHON and SARAH HEAR A SAD TALE UNDERGROUND ....... 4/12/13

The girl with the long, curly hair said - I didn't think it would ever happen to me. I mean I heard about it. But you know how it is.  You want it so bad, you get blind. And I don't even know why he gave me an appointment. I called. I just called. Got all the information out of a big directory.... a big 'industry' directory. You know where I got it? I found it at an audition. Somebody left it. I could never afford that. Sixty four dollars, it cost. But... I took it. 

Jonathon and Sarah sat there, snug against the wall of a never used storage room along a never traveled route. They were down in the tunnels of the mole people, listening to a young girl speak. She knew they were life-eaters. But in a place where the paranormal IS normal, that's not a major issue. So they listened to the words in a quiet space, gilded by the flickering orange glow from a small pot of Sterno.

And the curly haired girl said - You know I can sing? You know that. He handled mostly actors. But, what, I wasn't gonna go? So I went to the library and I 'Skyped' him. Had to go to a public library to do it. I didn't know how to set it up. Some guy there helped me. He was in charge of the room. Said I had to wait til four o'clock. The computer room shuts down then. So I had to sit there, out in the magazine section, reading old copies of Variety and shutting out the noise from the screaming kids who use the place as a club house. I don't even think they realize they got books in there. 

First I get the receptionist. She looks like a real bitch. Probably lookin' for her own break. She says - Do you have an appointment?..... I go - No.... She says - Then who sent you?.... I go - Nobody.... I almost said 'Ellen Degeneres.' That was the only one I could think of. (brushes back a few strands). But I see this look on her face. She's gonna get rid of me real fast. I know it. Seventeen dollars and fifty cents for a top from H&M, down the drain. God did I feel like an idiot. 

Sarah said - How did you get out there? Where did you get the money?...... The girl said - My stepfather had a place, sold pizza and steak sandwiches and hoagies. I worked the counter after school. You wanna know what I did? ..... Jonathon nodded.... She goes - I 'short checked' him. Sold a twenty dollar order. Got paid twenty dollars. But then I'd write a second check for ten dollars. And that's what went in the register. He don't know. He don't look. Manny, the cook knew. We split it all. Not every order, but some. Maybe four or five a day. I would get like seventy five dollars a week out of it. See, I'd write the 'cheap' checks up before I even went in. Naive, but not dumb. Twenty weeks gives me fifteen hundred dollars.  and he never did anything to me. He never touched me. But that don't mean he liked me. Always cursed. Always hollered. My mother too. Both of us. But where were we gonna go? You think stuff like that don't happen anymore? Bullshit! It happens every day. 

Another kid, a girl from school went with me. She's still out there. She does stand-up. Writes for some show too. 

Jonathon quietly asked - Did you ever meet Rudy?.... No. Who's he? - she said....... A life-eater. Met him once, in my travels...... Sarah looked and realized how many secrets he still kept. 

The curly haired girl went on. She told how the agent came out of his office and walked through, while she was still talking with the receptionist. She told how he looked at the screen and said - Who's that? Who's she? Bitch girl said - Nobody. She's nobody..... Agent goes - Go to hell.... and shoves her out of the way. Two hours later she meets him in a glorified fast food burger place.... Nothing fancy.... Nowhere his 'crowd' would go. Says he can't use her right now, but would take her on as like a 'mother's helper' to give his wife a break from the twins and all. Says she'd get to live with them, in the big house out in Encino. So she takes it. She goes. And two weeks later he starts messing with her. First out in the pool, late at night. She liked to swim after the kids were in bed. Wife never knew. 'Outside' ain't air conditioned. So he slips into the water and starts playing games. Ain't got no suit. What's he need God damned trunks for? Nobody sees back there. Starts 'tagging' her. Starts petting her...kissing her. First she won't let him. But then, about a week or two later, he pulls her 'bottoms' off, said something about a job... a rock video job.... so she let him. Look, who knows if the wife knew? Could be she didn't care. All her lady friends knew she thought he was putrid. But she liked the customized Mercedes, the Maybach, I think they call it... and the place at Malibu... not ocean front, but beach block and that was still pretty good.

There was never any job. But he did slip her some 'C' notes every once in a while. And then she got herpes.  Took her to a doctor friend of his. Some guy who likes 'hanging out' with people from the industry. Some guy who'd do anything for a few pool party invites and show tickets. Does what he can for her. But now, the agent guy talks. He tells his guy friends about her. They laugh. They look at her different. You think she's ever gonna get a break in that town?  And the worst thing is, she knows it. Wants to run away. But the kids are cute. She likes the kids. Figures maybe one day he'll stake her for like a little boutique or something. Maybe she'll sell real estate. People make a life from that. 

Only one day the wife is crying. Says the doctor 'saw something.' Not her... the kids. Thinks it's autism. Not so bad. But bad enough. And it's both of them. So they bring in this team, some girl and some guy from U.C.L.A.. They work with them. They help the wife. Girl even acts like a social secretary too, if you want to know the truth. One night, after dinner, wife DOES come out to the pool... and she says - I want that cheap, little, sticky bitch out of here. He don't say one word. But twelve hours later the curly haired girl is out. Got eight hundred dollars, a stolen gold bracelet and nothing else. Wanders The Grove looking for a classy job, but they don't want her. They just don't want her.  And the friend doing stand-up lets her sleep there a few nights, but she don't want her, 'cause she's starting to make connections... good connections. Seventeen years old, but everybody 'pretends' like she's twenty two. You know you can do that out there. 

Got eighteen hundred dollars for the gold bracelet. Came back home. Tried to make it up with her family, but they knew. People knew. Stand-up girl was on Face Book. She made jokes about it. Look, maybe in a little while things would change. Maybe they'd have taken her back. But they didn't... her mother and stepfather, I mean. So she wound up on the streets. Who goes into Center City from where she lived? They don't know. And then she wound up in the tunnels.  Mole people are good like that. 

When she was done, Jonathon said - My poor, poor child. How can I help you?...... But Sarah knew. She knew right away. And she pinched him real hard. Curly haired girl might have seen, but she just kept going...... Make me a life-eater. Give me 'the burden.' I want to go back. I want to go out there. I want to set things right....

He looked so disappointed. He looked truly sad. And the three of them just sat there.... watching the Sterno burn low...

Then, a few hundred heartbeats later, the girl who wanted to be a singer, quietly began to sing. She picked a song.... Falling Slowly, from 'Once.' Her clear, pure voice filled the tiny space.  And they heard these words.....

I don't know you... but I want you... all the more for that.

The vampire known as Jonathon knew that it was true....

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