As I sit pondering… the cat walks over to the dog bowl and check it out. There is nothing there she desires.
It is odd how random thoughts go in and out. Kind of like worms in that weird old kid’s song.
The worms go in
The worms go out
The worms play pinochle on your snout.
Anyway, on the way home this morning, after dropping Clara off for a Mock SAT test, I was thinking about what I’d write today. Junior year in high school is busy. All week long she has been seeing college recruiters and now tests. Mock SAT today (the new test), PSAT next week during school, then the real SAT and ACT. Then the AP tests. Then my mind goes off in other directions. What songs would I include on a play list for old boyfriends? It has been a while since we played wii Just Dance. Garret’s vintage clothing collection that he swiped from his father’s closet is making waves at college. I thought about a blog about wearing vintage clothing and jewelry – should I write it? What would happen if we (Vampires) told the world what we really are? How would that change the presidential debates. Holy crap, now THERE is an idea. I’ll write about that next week for sure. I thought of love letters and graveyards and the drought and coffee and about putting up my Halloween decorations.
Wait… just a second… I will be right back.
I felt a presence outside but refused to lift the shades. And like my bad cat who scratches the walls to wake me up, a ghost, THE GHOST, materialized in front of me. He sat at my table, in the round turret breakfast nook, right across from me.
He did not look happy. In fact he was glaring at me. His black hair hung over his forehead and covered one eyes. Today he wore his black suit, the one he was buried in (in 1986).
Before he could say one mean nasty comment I spoke first.
“Nigel, did you know The Cars have been nominated for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?”
He brushed his hair out of his face, uncovering a bloody gash in his forehead. The gash vanished. He looked perplexed. I know he’d planned on saying something vile or rude. I know he’d planned on using the word fuck, as in “fuck you Vampire.” He is such a lovely and thoughtful ghost (said no Vampire ever.)
After we sat for a while as I sipped my coffee Nigel finally spoke up. “Too bad they didn’t get nominated when Benjamin Orr was alive.”
“Coffee?” I had to ask. Nigel nodded.
I put a cup of coffee in front of the ghost. He inhaled and closed his eyes with a slight satisfied smile.
“Los Lobos was nominated,” I told him.
“Local boys. Good choice. Who else?”
“Deep Purple, Cheap Trick, Yes, the Smiths, Steve Miller, Chicago, Chaka Khan, and Janet Jackson. There were a few others.”
“Janet Jackson? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I kid you not.”
“Fucking Janet Jackson?”
“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir.”
He took in another breath of coffee. His form wavered in and out of transparency and opacity.
“So the Giants won’t be going to the World Series this year?”
“I don’t know what happened to my record collection.”
“Did you leave a will?”
“Sure, but not specifics like that. I was only 26 when I died.”
“Do you want me to check it out for you.”
“No, it would just piss me off.”
“Nigel dear, everything pisses you off.”
“Is that a ghost thing?”
“No. It is a Nigel thing.”
His eyes grew black and he glared at me. I knew the rage was building up. Ghosts are such tormented souls, not to mention major assholes most of the time.
“Hey Nigel,” I said. “I’m going to put up the Halloween decorations while Clara is at her mock SAT test. Do you want to help?”
His eyes went back to normal and the rage vanished from his pretty face. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“What are you doing for Halloween this year?”
He smiled. “I’m going to be a ghost. How about you?”
“I don’t know. I thought about being Little Hagrid, or maybe a Vampire.”
We both smiled and finished our coffee.
I have to go pick up my child now. Have a good weekend everyone and thanks for dropping by.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman