Staying in with the Ghost

Ghosts.

“You can’t get this,” he tells me.

“I don’t know that,” I said. Vampires never know what might or might not make them sick. We’re usually ok but you never know. Hell, nobody even knows how long we live or who is the oldest among us. Seriously, we don’t know squat about our own existence. On the other hand we seem to know everything about everyone else.

“Werewolves can,” he tells me.

“Tell me something I don’t know. Of course they can get it.”

“We are already dead. Nobody wants that,” says The ghost.

“Is it so bad being a ghost?” I ask.

“It is that bad. It is worse than that bad,” he says not worried about keeping any distance. “I never saw anything like this when I was alive or dead. There are old ghosts who experienced things sort of like this, but it was different back then. They didn’t even use soap or have indoor plumbing. I died in 1986. This is just weird.”

“I know,” I said to Nigel, the Ghost. Nigel isn’t always friendly or polite but he makes some good points now and then.

“So now that everyone is staying in where are Vampires getting their food?” Nigel asked me.

“Here and there. We have our regulars. We get what we need at places like Dave’s Bottle Shop.

“You’re staying in too,” he said in the most accusatory way.

“Yes, we are,” I said. “Even my brother Andy is staying in with his girlfriend. She’s sixty now and not a Vampire. She teaches college in Southern California and her classes are all online now. Andy decided to hunker down with her and help out. He even had a piano brought into her house so he could play while he is down there.”

“She’s my age, or the age I would have been,” said Nigel, who doesn’t look a day over twenty six.

I didn’t say anything. Nigel tends to brood when reminded of what-could-have-been.

“I’m making coffee,” I said. “Would you like some?”

He started to smile, then stopped and just gave me a slight smile. I ground some good beans (Chocolate Fish) and made a few cups in the French Press.

I sipped my coffee, while Nigel put his transparent hands around his cup and took in the smell.

We didn’t say much else. When his coffee grew cold he mouthed the word, “thanks” and vanished in a wisp of blue and purple vapor.

Maybe he’ll be back tomorrow. I don’t know. Nobody knows these days what might happen tomorrow.

Take care. Keep in touch with loved ones. Wash your hands. Keep a safe social distance. Thank your friends on the front line who work in the medical field, retail, law enforcement, EMTs, or other helpers during these weird times. Keep in touch with those who are elderly, need extra help, or are alone. 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

coffee

Coffee with Vampires and Ghosts

 

 

Fog

Today is perfect. Thick fog blankets the oaks. Small birds dance among the branches. Rain is supposed to come later today, but this morning I will enjoy the cold, damp, beautiful, and mysterious fog.

Out on the deck, in his usual spot, I could see the Ghost talking to my calico cat. Even in the fog, even in his semi-transparent state his black hair shines, and his blue eyes stand out like a Caribbean lagoon.

“I know you’re watching me. I know you’re writing about me,” he yells making the glass of my dining room windows shake.

I went outside, trying not to trip over the cats who are trying to get out and in at the same time. The calico hissed at the younger gray cat. He backed off, then pushed himself around her. They always get so pissy with each other. It is even worse now that the dog is gone.

Last night I was wondering why the area around the cat food bowls is so messy these days. Ahhh. There is no dog to clean up the floor. Damn. I miss my dog so much I can’t even say it out loud.

I make it out to the deck feeling the wonderful cool damp air on my face.

“Do dogs ever become ghosts?” I had to ask.

The Ghost gives me one of those are you stupid or what looks. “No, dogs don’t become ghosts.” Then he looked away, over the trees, then back to me. “I miss her too. She was the best dog I ever met.” Yes, dogs can see ghosts and they love people even when they’re not alive.

We stood together, a Ghost and a Vampire watching the tiny finches and sparrows in the trees.

“When I was in high school, back in the late 70’s we had official smoking areas in school but we couldn’t eat in class. That was so stupid. A kid could take a smoking break but if he was hungry he couldn’t have a snack. Now there aren’t smoking areas but kids can eat in class. Some things change for the better. A lot of things about high school are better now. Where your kids go, went, still go, teachers aren’t having sex with students anymore. Kids have more options on what classes they want to take. There aren’t elite classes reserved for the so called smart kids. Everybody gets a chance to excel. If I hadn’t died so young I bet I would have worked with teens. Fuck that, I would have been a parent with teens right now. I would have had a dog too. And a wife.” Then he smiled. “At least I do have a girlfriend. She is a ghost but I love her as if she was alive. She likes your kids. I like your kids. You did a great job with them, considering you’re a Vampire. My parents were total assholes.”

“Where are your parents Nigel? Are they still alive?”

He smiled a bitter smile. “My dad is in Hell as far as I know. I don’t know where my mother is. Maybe in prison. Maybe shacked up with some meth head out in the desert. She didn’t even go to my funeral. She has never visited my grave. Stupid bitch. I’m thankful I didn’t spend my formidable teen years with either one of them.”

That is all he’d say about his family. His memories of his past are full of memories he doesn’t want to say out loud, and the rest of his memories are filled with holes. I let him ramble on for a while. He’ll talk for hours. I don’t know if he is making up for lost time or if he has always been an extreme talker. I stopped listening when he started to talk about economic theories, and why the Gold Rush era ghosts who hang out by the lake are so annoying and creepy. I’ll have to agree with him on that one. The Gold Rush ghosts are exceptionally annoying and creepy.

It started to rain and we came inside.

Then Nigel smiled. “It is nice to talk to a real person, even if you are a Vampire.”

“You know I’m always here,” I told him.

Then he laughed and vanished.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Seeing Red

“Are you still seeing Emma?”

“Mom, Emma is so weird.”

“How so?”

“She hates red. She won’t wear red. She won’t park next to a red car. She won’t eat off of a red plate. She gets upset if I wear anything red. Even the word blood makes her hysterical. She won’t even sit on red furniture.”

“You’d better not bring her to my house.”

“She even flips out over roses and humming bird feeders.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“It isn’t some deep rooted trauma if that’s where you’re going. She just does it to be weird. She wants attention. You know, she wants to stand out and be different. I asked her if it had anything to do with Vampires. She looked at me like I was the crazy one. She said I was disturbed and disgusting.”

“Does she know you’re a Vampire?”

“No. Hell no.”

“Honey, I think you need to break up with her.”

“I already did. That’s why I called you. The summer of Emma is OVER.”

“Time to cut your losses and move on. At least you only spent a few weeks with her.”

“She texted me this morning. Now she says red is OK. She decided she doesn’t like cats now.”

“Block her. Do it now.”

“Already done.”

“Good. Love you.”

“Love you too Mom.”

 

No matter how grown up you are, sometimes you still need to talk to your mom.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Short Story Sunday: The Morning After

“I told her I don’t eat human flesh, I only drink blood,” said James. “Then she rolled her eyes at me. Can you believe it? She believes that I’m a Vampire but she wouldn’t believe a God Damn word I said to her.”

“So I take it you don’t have a date for tonight,” said Andy.

“No, I am free. Completely free to enjoy company of women who appreciate me. By the way, is it just Vampires tonight or are any warm blooded people showing up?”

“It will be a mix. Everyone is cool. Cool as in temperament not temperature.”

“Good. I swear I should have pegged her as a bigot. She knew I was a Vampire when I met her. She knew we’re real, but she would never accept me. Never.”

“It wasn’t like you were exclusive with her. Screw her.”

“I did. That’s what got me into trouble,” said James, then he laughed. “You’d think that after 164 years… who am I kidding. The only woman I can’t get is your sister.”

Andy raised an eyebrow. Sure James was a pig but he’d been Andy’s best friend forever and most of it was an act…a small fraction was an act.

James continued his venting. “The only reason she didn’t go after me more is because she knows I can erase her memory, and if she tells anyone I’m a Vampire they’ll think she’s nuts.”

“Forget her James,” said Andy. “I’ve never seen you so insecure. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I was up too late last night. I’m hungry. I obviously didn’t eat anything last night.”

“I have blood in the fridge, and some cheese. Go get yourself something.”

“Thanks,” said James, heading out to the kitchen.

Andy looked around the room. There would be about fifty people over for New Year’s Eve. He still had to bring out all of the glasses, wine, and call the caterer for a final check.

Once James got dressed and the party started he’d be fine. He’d be more than fine. There wouldn’t be a single female at the party, Vampire, warm blooded human, Werewolf, or otherwise he wouldn’t be flirting with. James never went home alone.

It would be a new year but some guys never changed. That wasn’t always a bad thing. Just a thing.

Andy pulled out his phone and left a message. “Hey beautiful. Just wanted to tell you I love you. I’ll see you tonight. I can’t wait.”

~ end


A conversations over coffee and musings about the lives of others (or don’t trade in your soul because you can’t get it back.)

coffee

Coffee with Vampires and Ghosts

A conversations over coffee and musings about the lives of others.

This morning I met for coffee with my brother’s friend James.

James is one of those people I find extremely obnoxious, but we have a connections through my brother Andy and through some shared experiences. We all have friends like James.

When he isn’t just hanging out with old friends, James is a psychiatrist to some pretty well known individuals. He is good at giving people ways to find normalcy in their lives. That is their normal. Everyone has his or her own normal, they just have to find it. The same goes with inner peace and contentment. James gives his patients the tools and teaches them how to use those tools to keep healthy.

As I drove to his house, through one of the more exclusive neighborhoods in the city (East Sacramento), I passed a home I’d once been in, years ago. The house belonged to a wealthy man. I’m talking insanely wealthy. A friend of mine was his executive assistant.

I was there for a party. He was lovely and friendly. I’d met him before and he remembered me. My friend adored him. He was a good man.

Unfortunately his ex-wife, his narcissistic daughter, and his psychiatrist only saw dollar signs. They poisoned him with their demands and their bad advise. It was never about him. People who cared couldn’t get through to him. The women took and took from him, stabbing out pieces of his soul until one day he killed himself.

“There is a special place in Hell for them. No, really, Jewels, the reservations have been made,” James told me as he poured me a second cup of coffee in his well-appointed kitchen.

I believed James, because like me, he is a Vampire. He lives with one foot in death’s door at times. He knows what it is like to grab up your own soul and hold it tight. For unlike Regular Humans, Vampires can’t give away or trade our souls, but sometimes there are those who try to come up from the depths of Hell and steal them away.

“And to think,” I said, “people call us ghouls.”

“They’re such hypocrites,” said James.

We had more coffee and talked about our friends, our work and books we’d read over the summer. I looked around the beautiful kitchen. Too bad not much cooking happened in it. Most Vampires don’t cook much. We do, but not much. I don’t need to explain why.

James made a lame joke about cooking and I laughed. Then he smiled with a sexy bit of fang and said, “Let’s go upstairs and fuck.”

I smiled back. “You know I’m married.” Yes, that is the reason I don’t see much of James.

“Right, you’re married to the most handsome Vampire in the world, but come down to the dark side with me this morning. Nobody will ever know. Mix it up a little.”

“Oh James,” I said, “even if I was single I’d have to say no. It isn’t going to happen. But thank you for the coffee. It was delightful.”

“At least I can try,” he said taking my hand and kissing it.

Now I’m home, taking a break from my work, sharing my morning. I’m also wondering if anyone is mourning still for the lovely man who was driven to his death by demons who took the form of friends and family.

I look at my old dog sleeping on the cool tile by my feet. I hear a hawk outside. It is a calm space where demons are not allowed. I will not let them in.

Close the door if they knock, even if they look like someone you know.

Beware those who have already traded in their souls at the expense of others.

OK everyone, have a nice day.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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I’m on the road with my handsome husband and beautiful daughter this week touring one of the colleges by the ocean in Southern California. Yes, this is the parenting part. So anyway, this is a repost from August 2015. Thanks for dropping by. I’ll tell you all about it soon.

Bottom Feeders

I was driving along on of the main streets near where I live and saw homeless woman pushing a grocery cart down the street. I’d never seen this one before. She wore a pink shirt that wasn’t enough for the cold morning. Her face had that gaunt sunken, thin mouthed, meth head look. She looked old, like elderly old, but I bet she was around forty or maybe even younger.

This was a residential neighborhood in an area with a lot of horse property, friendly folks, rolling hills, and few businesses among the homes. There is one food closet but no other social services.

My brother Val was in the car with me. He looked at to woman too. “I bet she has a couple of kids in foster care or living with relatives.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to think about it. Unlike me, Val walks a darker side of the street than I do.

“Jewels, there’s two or three bottom feeders in this area. Were you aware of that?”

“The historic proliforence of ignorant trash in certain neighborhoods near here has always brought them out.”

“Seriously, I know them. The bottom feeder Vampires. They feed on the homeless, addicts, mentally ill, but mostly the homeless. They suck them almost dry then dump them at shelters, or at emergency room doors. No worry about anyone finding bodies all over the streets, or behind buildings. Everyone assumes it was some sort of drug overdose or some other fucked up shit.”

“I couldn’t do that. First of all it is disgusting. Secondly it is sad and pathetic to take advantage of those people,” I said.

“They, the Vampires, get them to the hospital more than anyone else. They give them sweet dreams that they wouldn’t get otherwise. Do look at me all disgusted. I see what is going on, especially downtown. You know what is going on. They invite me to join them. Then the unfortunate souls they feed on beg them to transform them into the Undead. It’s pathetic but it is just the way things have always been forever and ever and ever. Don’t tell me you haven’t been tempted when you’re in a pinch and can’t find some nice squeaky clean donor.”

I didn’t say anything else and changed the radio station from a stupid Linkin Park song to the Jimmy Buffet station, then to a crappy obscure hair band song. Then I turned the radio off.

Val started to talk again. “Let’s have a party. We can have a going away party and invite everyone we want to go away. Who would you invite?”

I had to smile. I couldn’t help but show my fangs.

I wasn’t thinking of the lost souls or poor homeless people who are stared at by people driving by. I wasn’t thinking of the people who need help. I wasn’t thinking of those without hope.

I was thinking about other people. You know the ones.

Yes, I know, I know, I know, I write all about positive parenting, and love, and raising your kids to be good people…but sometimes…

Sometimes we just need to be awful. Even if you’re not a Vampire it is ok to ride in the car with your brother, or a friend, or even your older child and speculate on such things. It is even ok to laugh about it.

So dear reader, if you had a Going Away Party who would you invite? Kim Jong-un? Kim Kardashian? Kim Davis? Your ex-girlfriend who slept with your best friend and still calls you once a week with all of her problems? Or just invite politicians. Take your sample ballot from the last election and invite everyone on it. Who would you invite? Take your time. Think it out. Write it down.

I turned the car into my own neighborhood. Val turned the radio back on. I didn’t recognize the song.

“Remember Juliette, the first time we went to New York City? What year was it? 1880?”

“1879,” I said.

“It was on that trip I discovered that I have a sympathy for those who live in the shadow of the Vampire bottom feeders. I don’t feed on the bottom, or rarely do, but you know, somebody needs to look out for them. I don’t really, but I have. It makes me uncomfortable but I have.”

“I know you have Val. You do it all the time but you won’t admit it. Vampires talk Val. They tell me what you’re up to. You’re a better man and a better Vampire for it. Better than most,” I told him.

He put his hand on mine. “Thanks.”

We got to my house and changed the subject. A large happy dog greeted us and peed on Val’s feet. The cats chased up up the walk. The icy wind blew our hair until we were able to get into the house. My teenager asked us, “sup?”  And we laughed.

That’s all.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman