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.

Evie

Our friend Pierce was by this weekend. He pulled out a tintype of his mother and sisters.

“Oh my goodness,” I said. “There is Evie when she was alive. How is she?”

“Great, you should get in touch with her. She is in the Oakland Hills these days. She’d love to see you,” said Pierce.

Evie is on the far left, with the long ringlets looking straight into the camera.

They were a lovely family of assorted interesting personalities. Evie has a fire about her, and a curiosity, and sense of humor that kept everyone who knew her entertained, and on their toes. Despite the fact that she had more than her share of suitors she took a different path.

I don’t know exactly when she approached my brother Aaron and told him that she knew what he was (what we all were.) She wanted to be like us.

Years later we were walking on a beach, it was I think 1932. We were wearing satin evening dresses with absolutely nothing on under them. My hair was in Marcel waves. Hers was pulled back in an elegant chignon with a diamond clip.

We were talking about everyone at the party we’d just been at. It was a warm night on the Central California coast, as we walked barefoot, our stomachs happy and full of blood and booze.

Then she stood and faced the waves. She dropped her dress on the sand and ran laughing into the waves. I didn’t see her for days after that. I’ve no idea if she had taken a night swim then run off with a lover, or if she’d hitched a ride on a whale and gone off to Mexico. I have no idea at all.

But that was typical of Evie.

It was good seeing the old tintype. I’ll have to give her a call – and soon.

Just a reminder for all of us to call old friends, and rekindle old relationships. It will be just like being alive again.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Lonely Roads (and Vampires and Parenting)

You know you’re a parent when you worry when your twenty year old son listens to Green Day’s Boulvard of Broken Dreams ten times in a row. Then you sit back and realize that earlier that night you were driving along alone in the car singing along to that song because it could have been you. It could have been you when you were twenty. It could have been you tonight, alone, in a car, all by yourself, out of your mom self and back into who you were once a long time ago.

My social butterfly always-in-a-good-mood alpha Vampire son is fine. We all have our set backs and have to listen to songs that maybe don’t make us feel better, but at least validate our feelings.

I’m having empty bat house syndrome. Call it empty nest if you like. We’re Vampires so it is a bat house. It is my house.

As my children become young adults it brings back of flood of memories from when I was a young adult. Most of it is memories of stupidity (mine and that of others), which has greatly influenced how I have raised my children. I’ve raised them not to be stupid. I don’t want them to make the stupid uninformed and totally embarrassing decisions.

I was thinking about this today when Teddy’s old friend Bic showed up. And speaking of stupid.

It was difficult for my husband Teddy when he first became a Vampire. If it was up to me it would have been handled differently, but it was 1876 and I was only sixteen at the time, and it wasn’t up to me to have an opinion on anything.  He didn’t want to become a Vampire. He didn’t know what a Vampire was.

Needless to say Teddy was angry. He was twenty six, already successful at business, engaged to be married to a lovely girl of good standing, and life was good. Then it wasn’t. In fact it wasn’t even life as he knew it anymore – not at all. It was death, then a completely different kind of life, biologically, spiritually, mentally, and socially. It was a different world.

A few years later (I’d since lost contact with him) at a time when he was angry, and feeling betrayed, he made some new friends. They were nice enough, young Vampires like him. They also had issues to deal with and adjustments to make. After a few years of hanging to together they parted ways and moved on with their Vampire lives.

They were the kind of Vampires who let blood drip from their chins and laughed about it. They were the kind who would get some guy drunk and then bring him home and share him among friends, then laugh when he sobered up in fear.

The first time I met them was October of 1889. I went to where Teddy’s house for a party. There she was sitting with two other Vampires with a small, skinny, dirty, pathetic looking child between them. One of the Vampires, a dark haired male looked up. “We found it on the street. It didn’t belong to anyone.”  Doris had blood dripping down the side of her mouth, and on her hands. The front of her dress was dotted with rust colored stains. She said nothing, but just stared at me with those same dull black eyes.

This was the women Teddy had spoken with such admiration. She was a survivor and an old friend. She’d been there with him. For what? In my experience dead girls weren’t of much use.

I walked to the back of the house where another friend of Teddy’s, a Spanish Vampire named Ricardo said, “Teddy said these were his friends. They have a child. A human child.” He was completely disgusted. We stayed together away from the other until Teddy came back, totally and completely oblivious to his less than cultured friends.

The weird thing about Doris was that she was pretty. She always looked like she was barely eighteen, tall with strawberry blonde hair. Her clothes were always in style, and her hair always done, but that never hid the dead vacant look. She was never too careful about showing her fangs, or her way-past-death’s-door-palor.

At one time she’d had children by a man she’d followed into the darkness. She’d become a Vampire along with Bic and a few other friends. She’d had children by one of the men and in turn they became Vampires. The children scattered as she lost interest in them, and soon they were dust – no more as we say in Vampire circles.

I thought they were gone, but every once in a while they come around. Today was one of those days.

Doris looked at me, her dead eyes following my every move. Dull black with a hint of something that might have been blue looked at me without emotion, but I knew she coveted everything I had, especially Teddy.

She’d pick at the pale chalky skin on her arms with her long white fingernails, as she watched me. When Bic would laugh she’d slowly blink her dark dead eyes and give a hint of a smile. Sometimes a dry lip would get caught on one of her fangs, like a stray dog. Then she’d adjust her face and pick at her arm again.

I could hear Bic laughing. He disgusted me with his mullet, his long mustache, and the same dead look that Doris had. It wasn’t so much that he was bad, that he was just crude. Where Teddy is refined and meticulous, Bic is uncultured and proud of it. He brags about it. Where Teddy is well read, Bic is ignorant and proud to be uninformed about the latest culture.

They, the men, were talking about politics and cars. I can handle the cars. It was the political banter that made me want to scream.

Bic finally came over to me and said, “Doris used to be in love with Teddy.” Then he gave me a slow smile that turned into a laugh. He always did that when he said something he know I wouldn’t like. “I don’t know why you have a problem with her.”

I should have just out and out told him that I’m a snob. I almost said something about Vampire trash but refrained for Teddy’s sake. They’d be gone soon. I’d simmer for a while then get over it.

Both Teddy and I have cleaned our closets over the years of individuals who don’t bring anything to our lives. We have an eclectic group of friend whom we treasure, but there are also those people who come with too many “attachments” and always come with trouble.

It is a crazy and unsure world that my almost grown children will find themselves in. I want them to always feel as if they aren’t alone. I want them to know they have value. I don’t want them to be followers. I want their joy not to be in binge drinking, but in enjoying their blood, like fine wine. We are not animals. We are not monsters. Even if it was legal I wouldn’t want them grabbing children off of the street – even if they were strays.

While those with dead souls who have never dreamed, like Teddy’s old friends, the rest of us can sing along, and know that road, the only road we’ve ever known, will lead us to the right place. Or at least it will lead to someplace interesting.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

Old Stories, Secrets, and Teens of Long Ago, and Now

vampire teens

Old friends I hadn’t seen in a century stopped by Sunday night.

We were young together, the same age as my teenage daughter and her friends, sixteen and seventeen years old.

We laughed and told stories and caught up on.

Some of our old friends hadn’t done so well. Vampire Hunters took several. One’s husband went to check on her and found a pile of ashes in the bed. One couldn’t go on being in the world and feeling the sadness and loneliness so he sealed himself into a wall. Another left for South America in 1889 and nobody has heard from him since.

There are secrets too. There are those secrets that, when young, we keep deep inside of us. Sometimes we tell them, eventually. Sometime we don’t.  Those are the secrets of our hearts. They are also the secrets of deeds. Then there are the secrets of who we really are.

As Vampires we all know how to keep that secret for obvious reasons. We don’t keep it from ourselves, our own kind, just from the people who aren’t like us.

Olivia and Simon sat at the table with me and a bottle of wine as we caught up. How things have changed for our teens.

In the world of my children, sixteen and nineteen, nobody cares if anyone is gay. It isn’t an issue. But back when I was young it was rarely even talked about. Only in rare circles was it accepted. So if you were in love with someone of the same sex you kept it secret. You kept your shame to yourself, unless you were lucky enough to be among those who were in the circles that accepted your secret.

There are other secrets. I admitted for the first time about the boys I had crushes on. But I still wouldn’t tell secrets of a love a few years later, much more than a crush. I told him to stay faithful to a girl he adored rather than be with me. What I wanted to do was to tell him that I was the one who loved him. So is he with that girl now? I doubt it. That was over a hundred years ago and we were babies. Forgotten secrets and memories that were dislodged out of old dusty file cabinets in our brains.

I look back at the inexperience of our feelings and reactions. Maybe it is the secrets that keep us safe. It is the secrets that keep us from harm.

There were secrets of sneaking out at night. Of seeing things we shouldn’t have seen. Of stealing a heart, or something else. Secrets of a lie. Secrets of a longing. Secrets of desire. Secrets of helping someone else out in secret. And secrets of hate.

We spoke of the Vampire boy who was in love with a Werewolf girl. After a summer they parted ways. He went off to a university, she went to Europe and never came back. They were both too afraid and ashamed to tell anyone. Those times are changing.

We spoke of things we saw but never dared tell – violence, abuse, hate and betrayal.

There are those who say secrets are lies but I beg to differ. I don’t believe one must tell all, especially to friends and especially to lovers. Your experiences and thought and feeling are your own. You’re not a book to be opened. You are allowed to share only what you wish to share with others – for you belong to only yourself.

It can be confusing being young. The entire world is before you, but you don’t have the experience. You have the passion but you don’t know how to guide it. You have the joy but are never told to treasure it. You have the honesty but don’t know the portions. But most seem to have the ability to keep secrets safe and sound for as long as needed.

But seriously we had a great time catching up and laughing and not being as serious as this post. Good things – many good things have happened. Many more will in the future. Our secret to that? There is no secret. We just keep laughing and treasure those who made us who we are, and share memories with us.

So what comes out of this, as always, is to talk to your kids, listen to them, encourage them to share, and don’t pry. If you try to get all of their secrets they’ll become like stone, staring at you forever and never telling you anything.

Love them and laugh with them. Not just your teens – do that with everyone. Even the occasional Werewolf (you’ll be surprised how fun they can be if you get them on a moonless night.)

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Vampire Teens Rock

Vampire Teens Rock

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/secret/

Ghosts of a Halloween Dawn

This morning, this early early Halloween morning, before the dawn when just a shadow of the trees like black lace can be seen I looked outside and saw a ghost.

Damn it all. I hate ghosts. I barley tolerate the ones I don’t hate. I stepped out on my deck to chase it away when…

He turned and looked at me. My heart would have stopped had it been beating at the time.

“Juliette,” he whispered my name.

I had a million questions and no answers. He never gave any answers. As I stood, trying to get out words that never left my mouth he blew me a kiss and vanished.

Standing numb I thought of just a few hours ago when I lay with my arms around the man I love. Once a man, now a Vampire, never a ghost.

As I turned to go inside a different voice said, “Today is Halloween Vampire.”

I whipped around to find The Ghost, my Ghost, Nigel. “Happy Halloween. Big night?”

“Maybe,” he said with a sly smile, brushing his dark shaggy hair out of his eyes. “You?”

“Just hanging out here with friends and kids. You know, doing the Halloween thing. Sharing some blood and friendship.”

“Have fun. Don’t kill anyone.”

“You too.”

Then he vanished. He does that, just vanishes. But unlike the other ghost he’ll be back.

Happy Halloween.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Things that go bump in the night…

I received a call this morning. A male voice was on the other end. “I’m sorry to call so late, your brother Aaron said to call.”

It was 3 am. I was up. Of course I was, I’m a Vampire. I realized I was speaking to Austin the restoration expert and sometimes Vampire Hunter.

My brother Aaron, the serious attorney and Vampire has crossed paths with Austin. My husband at times has dealings with Austin – both of them being in the business of old things.

“What can I do for you?” I asked wondering what he’d found tonight.

“There is something in the basement of one of my houses and… I don’t know what it is. It isn’t human. I don’t think it is a Vampire. It doesn’t feel like a Vampire.”

“I see.” I am in the business of unusual things. Well, not exactly in business, but when unusual things come up or anything really weird I’m the one everyone calls. Don’t ask me why. It just happens this way.

Teddy and I arrived at an old house and were met by Austin. He seemed a bit uncomfortable but I ignored that. Vampires usually make people uncomfortable, if they know what we are, but we were there to do a job. I was also just curious, you know, this kind of thing can be fun or at least interesting sometime.

Austin looked pretty serious. “Your brother Aaron said you know more about these things than most. Could you help me out?”

I noticed his hand was swelled up and a nasty red color. I took it in mine. He started to pull back, maybe at the shock of the cold touch of my skin, or the fact that I’m a Vampire, but then Austin relaxed, a little at least. “What happened here?”

“A wasp stung me. The bastards built a nest under my front porch.”

“You’re in a lot of pain.”

“It feels like an acetylene torch burning my hand.”

I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. I knew he wanted to pull away in the worst way. I could feel his fear, but he knew, he sensed it would be ok. Smart guy.

“The pain is gone,” Austin said.

Oh if you could have seen the look on his face. Priceless!

I just smiled and asked him to show us the vermin in the building he needed to remove.

He took us down a narrow flight of concrete stairs into a damp space under the building. I could already smell the putrid sick smell that resembled a cross between a Middle School boys locker room on a hot day and a full cat box.

Teddy glanced at me. “Goblins.”

I hate Goblins. They’re nasty vile little creatures pretending to be kin to humans and all things like us. I don’t know what they are or their DNA make-up, if they have DNA. They’re putrid creatures made up of garbage and everything disgusting. Yuck.

Austin flicked on the single light bulb handing from a cord above the stairs. The creatures screamed like small girls. “Stop it,” I yelled. “Right now.”

I could see the green tint of their skin, the tacky clothes and the sharp pointy teeth and smooth dry skin like that of a frog. Austin saw something that looked human, over dressed like they were going for a Glam Goth Rock look worn by fairly unattractive people. He couldn’t see their real form. They made sure of that.

They ran up the stairs pushing us as they went. Out of the house and into the night they went. I heard a car start and speed off. In the basement we found drugs and what looked like a stash of stolen jewelry. Teddy called a police detective he knows who deals with these sorts of things.

There is nothing that scares or excites Goblins more than Vampires. We know what they’re up to. They can’t trick us. They can’t escape us if we really want to catch them. They’re like rats and they know it.

Austin stood speechless and ran his hand through his hair.

“Austin, did you see them in their true form?” Teddy asked.

“They were green.”

“Yes,” I said, “you can see them as you can see us for what we are. You have a gift. Can you see the two teenagers who have been watching us from the top of the stairs?”

Austin looked up at the two transparent forms who stood above us. He was obviously uncomfortable.

“They’re ghosts. Goodness Austin, this house is full of all kinds of things. Don’t worry about the two here. They seem harmless.”

The teens looked at us with sad eyes for a few more seconds then entwined their fingers and vanished.

Teddy and I took poor Austin upstairs and sat him down for a chat. Austin is one of those rare individuals who can see the world and those who inhabit it for what they really are. It is a frightening and sometimes wonderful reality for those who experience it. Then again, I had to remind him that normal humans are much more frightening and evil than anything he saw tonight.

“I shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry to bother you. I could have taken care of it myself,” Austin said.

“The Goblins would have attacked you. Your body would have never been found,” I told him.

We walked back to our cars after he locked up the old building. I have no idea if he would continue on the restoration or not. That would depend on the Ghosts I suppose, or it could depend on Austin. He didn’t seem like the kind who would let fear stop him.

He put his hand on my arm (we’re not close enough for hugs) and said, “thanks for taking care of that wasp sting.”

I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Teddy shook his hand.

The sun came over a smoky horizon as we pulled into our driveway. It had been a long night.

The worst fear is fear of the unknown. Then again, what we do know can be pretty scary too. In the meantime we help each other out, even when we’re not alike. It’s just the right thing to do.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman