A Werewolf’s Train To Nowhere

I’ve posted this a few times, but since it is Werewolf Week, and since this is what it is, I will post it again.

A Werewolf’s Train To Nowhere

 Right after I’d graduated from college (the first time) from one of the rare Universities (now a well respected and famous school) that accepted women I took a trip across country on a train to meet my brother Val. He’d gone to New York City without me, leaving me, a young woman, unescorted. I would have done fine on my own but back then, in 1881 young women, even Vampires, didn’t travel alone.

I got on the train on a dark full moon night and made my way to my car. I was to share a car with several other students and some sort of chaperone. What I found was three young men dressed in rather garish suits of the latest fashion (or so they thought) and nobody else. Two had short beards, again, the style of the time. I recognized one from school. The train started to move. There was no getting off. OK I could have jumped, but I was in a long dress with a bustle no less and jumping wasn’t a practical option. Contrary to popular belief I couldn’t turn myself into a bat and fly away. So I stayed. They were horrible the entire time making crude jokes and being as vulgar as they could be. They insulted me for being a Vampire, calling me dead and cold and well, they were vulgar to say the least. I was in Hell and ready to get off of the train.

I sat took claim to a settee with a small table and tried to ignore my garishly dressed companions. A young woman climbed aboard and the three men cheered. She was dressed as garish as they were in the most stylish of gowns but it was a bright orange color with brown beaded trim. Her hair was as orange as the dress and piled high on her head. That included a lot of fake hair to go along with her real hair.

She eyed me up and down. “Who invited the Vampire?”

“I’m Juliette,” I said to the Werewolf girl. Holy crap I’d been stuck for a cross country trip with four Werewolves. Every muscle and bone on my body tightened up. I wanted to scream. Instead I just kept my place in my corner while my companions made as much noise as they could laughing out loud and of course the alcohol and drugs came out. Of course.

Just as the parting whistle blew the door opened again and in stepped my friend Pierce. Finally, another Vampire had arrived, and a strong protective one at that. His father owned the train car and I didn’t even put the two together. Pierce was a friend of my brothers Max and Andy. At age 28 he was the oldest of our group. We made quite a contrast in our highly fashionable yet subdued attire compared to the flamboyant brightly dressed Werewolves. We were also a lot quieter.

The Werewolf girl who was named Phoebe gave Pierce a long hard look then smiled and licked her lips. Pierce is attractive with a narrow face, a sensuous mouth and dark heavily lashed eyes. Of course she noticed him. She’d no doubt try to have his clothes off, have her way with him then tear his throat out. Well, maybe not, but I didn’t want him to get her claws into a friend who was almost like a brother to me.

The males were Luke, Seth and Eldon. I’ll never forget their names. They were rude and loud and young. Had they been Vampires I might have thought they were fun, but since they were Werewolves I thought they were disgusting. Phoebe was just as bad with her crude laugh and dirty jokes.

Pierce and I played cards and stood on the back of the train in the night air. We mostly talked. I asked him about people we knew who’d gone out into the world – the young Vampires we’d grown up with. Pierce was on his way to New York. I was on my way to New York as well to meet my brother Valentine. After that we’d board a ship to London.

Conversations with the Werewolves were in bits and pieces of insults and crude jokes. Pierce’s father did business with their families. To keep the peace and keep favors in check he’d offered to let the young adults of the pack to ride with us. Also, by being with Vampires the Werewolves were more likely to behave themselves. At least that is what everyone thought.

On the second night, after a half of case of Champagne, the young Werewolf men, Luke, Seth and Eldon stripped naked right in front of us and said they were going out for a run. Phoebe decided to stay in. They ran out and I could hear them up on the roof of the train car howling, then down a side ladder and they were gone. Phoebe sat by the window looking at the full moon. She’d taken off her jacket and bodice down to a short-sleeved lace covered blouse. Long dark hair sprouted on her arms and hands. Her fingers grew claw like. Fur grew down the side of her face. She ignored us as a low growl came to the back of her throat as she watched for her pack mates.

Peirce and I watched three huge wolves run along the side of the train. The moonlight reflected off of their silvery gray fur. They were beautiful.

Then we heard horrifically loud shots. Our fellow passengers a few cars down were shooting at the wolves. Pierce ran out of the car. I could hear him shouting for the men with the guns to stop. Phoebe started to scream and scream and scream.

The next day we heard news of three young men found dead by the side of the tracks. The story was they had been drinking and had a fight on the top of the train and fell off after shooting each other.

I will never forget holding Phoebe in my arms and rocking her, trying to tell her that everything would be alright. I knew it would never be alright but I said it anyway.

For the next week as we made our way across the country she’d howl mournfully at night. The passengers said the train was haunted. I knew they’d brought on their own ghosts when they killed the wolves for no reason.

Werewolves and Vampires are predators but even we don’t partake in the senseless of killing animals for no reason other than target practice.

Pierce and I related the story to others but over the years we’ve kept a lot of the details to ourselves. It seems like so long ago. It was a long time ago. A long long time ago.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

I want you so bad my fangs hurt (and more historically accurate tales of Camelot)

“I want you so bad my fangs hurt.”

I whipped around feeling cold breath on my neck. Smiling behind me was non other than my old boyfriend Pleasant Van Dousen.  Yes, HE is the one I made that meme about. Yes, this one. Even after all these years, more unpleasant memories to want to remember, and the fact that we’re both happily and faithfully married, I still got a little bit of a thrill out of it.

Pleasant Van Dousen, my old beau

Anyway, this isn’t about this. It is about history, and setting the record straight. It is about reunions. It is about sharing experiences. It is about the Knights of the Round Table before you learned it all from Monty Python. It is about old people and how you need to get their stories down and treasure their stories because when they’re gone so is any trace of the history they take with them.

Over the past four months I’ve been in the throes of planning a reunion for the Vampires of my youth (1870’s.) My old friend Amelia, a charming and stylish Vampire now living in Las Vegas, came up and stayed with me for the week. While she was here we stopped by to see the Ancient Vampires Eleora and Tellias.

Apparently we were not the only ones. Pleasant also stopped by. Amelia was even nice to him, something which surprised the jeebers out of me. Stranger things have happened.

We sat on the back porch of the large old Victorian farm house chatting over glasses of iced Poet’s Blood with sprigs of mint and sweet basil. Our hosts Tellias and Eleora are over 2,000 years old but they look like they are nineteen or twenty years old. Tellias wore an old Bob Seager tour shirt from the 1980’s over black tuxedo pants. Eleora was in an old faded sundress made of a print with monkeys and tropical flowers on hit. She’d pinned the straps with safety pins. They both wore yellow flip flops.

We were just chatting about people we used to know, or still know, or want to know better, or want to be rid of. Then Pleasant said, “Tellias, Eleora, I heard recently that you two were close with Merlin, the Wizard in the Court of King Arthur.”

Tellias leaned back in his chair and smiled a sly Vampire smile. “The thing is Pleasant, Merlin wasn’t much of a Wizard. In fact he wasn’t a Wizard at all.”

Pleasant looked surprised, as did the rest of us. “Was he a Vampire, like us?”

“Heaven’s no,” said Tellias. “Merlin was a time traveler. Or maybe still is. He still pops in occasionally, though it has been about sixty years.”

“Sixty five,” said Eleora. “Sixty five long years without a word. No word at all. Not a one.”

“But how…” started Amelia.

Tellias leaned forward and gave all of us a long look. “Technology. He bowled them over with simple technology. You’d be amazed at what folks in the dark ages thought of a man with a simple hand held flash light full of D batteries. Or music coming from a smart phone stuck in a tree.”

“But what about Excalibur?” asked Pleasant. “How did Arthur get the sword out of the stone? Didn’t Merlin have something to do with that?”

“A few sprays of WD40. It was a no brainer,” said Tellias. “You know what else?”

“Pray tell Tellias,” said Pleasant.

“He had a taser, and a laser pointer, and a Zippo lighter. The Knights of the Round Table went nuts. They had no idea they were being fooled by a handsome sleight of hand artist with a seductive voice and skills that would have made Houdini proud.”

“He fooled them with all kinds of things.” said Eleora.

“All kinds of things,” said Tellias.

“A bag full of things we take for granted,” said Eleora.

“Things we take for granted,” said Tellias, “but seemed positively magical in the Dark Ages.”

“Positively magic,” said Eleora.

“But,” said Pleasant, “what about the Lady of the Lake?”

“That was me,” said Eleora with a coquettish grin.

“You know how she loves to swim,” said Tellias. “Can’t keep my gal out of the water. She love to swim.”

“I love it,” said Eleora.

“What about the rest of the Camelot group?” I asked.

“Arthur was a good King, but his personal life was out of control. He was swayed too much on his emotions. He trusted everyone,” said Tellias.

“He was sexy as hell. I have no idea why Guinevere cheated on him so much,” said Eleora.

“She was in an arranged marriage my dear,” said Tellias. “Remember it wasn’t love at first night as it was with us Eleora.”

“Love at first sight. Every single night with you  Tellias is love at first sight,” said Eleora.

Tellias blew her a kiss from across the room and continued, “Guinevere didn’t go to a convent either after her affair with Lancelot.”

“Where’d she go?” Asked Pleasant.

Tellias shrugged his shoulders. “She hooked up with the pilot of the time machine, a guy named Frank. They’re both still out there. Somewhere. I don’t know. I saw them at one of Scott and Zelda’s parties back in the 20’s. Don’t know where they went from there.”

Pleasant looked surprised. “What about Lancelot?”

“Sir Lancelot du Lac, now he was a piece of work. He was worse than Casanova. Couldn’t keep it in his tights. It wasn’t just the queen. He’d see a pretty face, or any half way decent face that was female and he’d go nuts. It didn’t matter if she was married or not,” said Tellias.

“Once Lancelot came up behind me and guess what he said to me,” said Eleora.

“What did he say?” said Pleasant.

“He said I want you so bad my fangs hurt. And that was when he was with Gwen. Yes, he was a Vampire. Tellias and I turned him.”

I was shocked. “You two never told me that. Where is he now?”

“Nowhere,” said Tellias. “He was an unfortunate victim of the Spanish Inquisition.”

“So sad. So sad it was. Positively tragic,” said Eleora.

On that somber note we turned our conversation beck to Time Travelers, old friends, and our plans for the week.

As night turned into dawn we shared hugs and promised we’d be back soon.

On the drive back to my house, while Amelia talked about Merlin’s use of simple technology, I thought about my own past. I thought about how it had always been love at first sight with my  husband Teddy, when I knew what love at first sight was. I thought about all of the Vampire men who’d attempted to take a piece of my heart, along with my body. Then I said, “What are you wearing to the party tonight? I’m going to wear my black dress with the low back.”

Amelia answered, “Color. Juliette you need more color. I’m wearing blue and silver.”

And she did and she was absolutely beautiful, more than any princess or queen who ever lived. Even in Camelot.

Of course, as usual I wore black. I always wear black.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Everybody likes a little romance. Come back for more at Vampire Maman.

 

 

 

The Titanic and Vampire Maman – Shared Connections

This morning my eldest brother Max gave my son Garrett his Patek Philippe & Cie Gold Chronometro Gondolo Pocket Watch. The watch isn’t working, even though it is a magnificent time piece. The time had stopped at 2:48. That was when the icy waters of the Atlantic finally got to the inside pocket of Max’s jacket after the Titanic sank. There were seven Vampires on the ship. They all survived in the water like death, but not dead. Five women and two men. They stayed together, but it isn’t a story Max likes to tell. Garrett turned twenty-one on April 1st. Max told him that they could have the watch fixed. In the box was also the jacket Max had worn. Even after all of these years it is a story that fascinates us, and horrifies us. There is nothing like mismanagement and bad communication, and inflated egos to make something go so wrong.

April 14, 2012 is the day I started writing the blog Vampire Maman. It is also the same day the Titanic hit an iceberg and started to sink – April 14, 1912.

April 16, 2012 would have been the 100st anniversary of the docking of the Titanic in New York City, if the Titanic had docked.

I have in my possession a curious bit of history. This one is real. Not fiction. It gave me the chills to read this and copy it for this post.

In a scrap book is a press release that would have gone out if the Titanic had landed safely in New York.

Rather than throwing it out an executive employee of the White Star line put it in his scrap book. And that is where it still is. And here it is…copied exactly word for word from the White Star Line.

______________________

To be released for Publication after arrival of ship, April 16th.

The latest Ocean Marvel White Star’s “Titanic”

Largest Vessel in the World Arrives in New York.

THE ACEM OF LUXURY AND COMFORT – SOME STRIKING INNOVATIONS.

The largest steamer in the world arrived in New York today (April 16) from Southampton and Cherbourg and Plymouth. Larger even than the giantess “OLYMPIC” the new White Star Line leviathan “TITANIC” began her maiden trip under the most auspicious circumstances.

Many wonderful innovations have been made part of this newest of transatlantic wonders. The “TITANIC’S” 66,000 tons of displacement and 46,328 tons gross register are not her sole claim to distinction as the most elaborate handiwork of shipwrights. The “TITANIC” is the first steamer to be built with private promenades in connection with some of her splendid suites. Heretofore the floating apartment hotels, but fall to the “TITANIC” to provide the transatlantic traveler with an actual private residence, even to the exclusive promenade deck without encroachment upon the hundreds of first-cabin voyagers.

The “TITANIC”, like its sister ship, the “OLYMPIC”, possesses the great length of 882 feet, 6 inches, and a beam of 92 feet, 6 inches. Over the boat deck, the “TITANIC’S” beam spans 94 feet even, from rail to rail.

Four great funnels rise 81 ½ feet above the uppermost deck with a total distance of 175 feet from the top of the funnels to the keel.

Fifteen watertight bulkheads divide the great vessel, making her unsinkable even though half of her compartments should be filled with water. Eleven steel decks add to the “TITANIC’S” staunchness while an ideal of the vast promenading space may best be had when it is noted that the main promenade deck alone has an unbroken sweep of 190 yards on either side of the ship.

A Parisian Café and Palm Room are but some of the features of this remarkable vessel which will now enter regularly in the Plymouth-Cherbourg-Southampton-New York service with the “OLYMPIC.”

Besides the main dining salon, which has seating capacity for nearly 600 passengers, there is an a la carte restaurant, French service, which seats 200 passengers. The restaurant features will be especially appreciated by those who do not have the desire to be held to regular hours for dining, for night suppers, dinner parties, etc.

The size of the staterooms is also one of the remarkable features of the new giantess “TITANIC.” Varying from 8 feet to 9 feet, 6 inches in height, they are all roomy. Some of the 2-berth cabins are 17 x 10 feet, 6 inches in size. There are no 4-berth rooms, and a great number of single-berth rooms, 8 ½ by 10 ½ feet, have been provided.

A great swimming pool, squash racket course, gymnasium and the Turkish baths are all closely together on the lower deck, from which elevators carry the passengers to the various upper decks.

As in her sister ship, the “OLYMPIC,” passengers on the “TITANIC” will descent the grand staircase to the main reception room, which, in turn, leads into the great dining salon, from which it is separated by glass. Stretching the full width of the vessel amidships, the main dining salon is light and cheerful, and at night, with its myriads of electric lights, it presents a veritable fairyland.

Describing the gathering of the voyages in the reception room, awaiting the dinner hour, a writer has aptly remarked:

“Upon a dark, richly colored carpet, which will further emphasize the delicacy and refinement of the paneling and act as a foil to the light dresses of the ladies, this company will assemble – the apotheosis surely, of ocean-going luxury and comfort. What more appropriate setting than this dignified Jacobean room, redolent of the time when the Pilgrim Fathers set forth from Plymouth on their rude bark to brave the perils of the deep!”

There screws, propelled by turbine and reciprocating engines, furnished the motive power of the great “TITANIC.” Leaving Southampton and calling at Cherbourg and Plymouth for continental passengers on Wednesdays, she is expected to reach New York on the following Tuesday evening. The two ships will maintain an ocean ferry with regularity of other ferries across a river, for their immense tonnage displacement makes them practically impervious to the elements, no matter how adverse these may be.

The “TITANIC” and the “OLYMPIC,” as instruments of commerce, represent the highest skill and perfection yet reached in naval architecture; and in the struggle for supremacy they will easily hold the place of honor and the historic names that have been given them.

 

_________________

It makes you think. It also makes me feel kind of cold as if the icy waters are calling with the ghosts of those who did not survive.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

City of the Angels Part 2: Beauty in the land of the dead

Last Thursday I visited the city of Colma, where almost everyone is dead. Seriously, over a million graves are there with less than 2,000 living in residence. There are no cemeteries in San Francisco – they were all moved to Colma. People and pets are still buried there to this day.

The photos were taken by my friend Amelia who joined Clara and I for the day. Thank you Amelia. These are lovely.

Click here for Part 1.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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Innocenzio D’Antonio

Innocenzio D’Antonio came to Sacramento in the 1850’s with a troupe of actors to make his fortune. He’d started as an opera singer in his native Italy and unfortunately did not make it into the famous opera houses in Europe, fell in love with an Austrian actress and ended up with her talking him into joining an American theater company touring California during the Gold Rush.

Innocenzio D’Antonio had the voice of an avenging angel, rich and strong. He could certainly sing the corset off of any woman but he was pure of heart and a true and honest lover to his dear Austrian maid. Well at least until she left him high and dry in San Francisco, leaving him for a dashing gambler.

Upon reaching Sacramento Innocenzio D’Antonio noticed a young man singing one night at a party held by a well-known business man. It was odd to him that a child so young should be up so late into the night. But that was put aside when he heard the child’s beautiful voice. The voice was precious beyond compare. It was the voice of heaven and the angels above. It was the voice of all that was good and pure in the world. It brought Innocenzio D’Antonio to tears. And yet, there was something strong and dark about the voice. There was something about the voice that brought the opera singer both to tears and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

A well dressed man stood next to Innocenzio D’Antonio and said “I noticed you were moved by the sound of the my son Andrew’s singing. Amazing considering he is only nine years old. However, my child could use formal music lessons from a master, such as you. If you’re interested I will pay you well. I have four other children as well. The eldest three could all benefit from your talents Mr. D’Antonio.”

The next evening Innocenzio (as we shall now call him by his first name only) showed up at the elegant home of the child Andrew. He was met warmly by the father and met the rest of the family. The oldest boy was 10-year-old Maxwell, followed by 9-year-old Andrew, then 7-year-old Aaron, then 16 month old Valentine and the infant Juliette. Their mother was a vision of beauty and all that was good and pure. Such elegance in movement in style he had rarely encountered in his lifetime.

Over the next few months he came to look forward to music lessons for the three eldest boys. Maxwell and Aaron had uncommonly beautiful voice, but it was young Andrew who had the voice of an angel sent straight from heaven. Innocenzio thought of how many churches, even those in Rome would give anything to have this voice in their stables of singers. He thought of the great opera houses in Europe that would be mobbed with patrons trying to hear Andrew sing.

Before meeting this most wonderful family Innocenzio had suffered deep waves of melancholia. He’d blame it on heart-break, disappointment or even being cursed, but now, every time he left the home of Andrew’s family, Innocenzio felt as if he were the most content and happy man alive.

After a time the father announced that they would have a party and invite all of their closest friends. Andrew would sing at midnight. Innocenzio thought that was too late for such a young child but the parents brushed it off with a gentle smile. It was difficult for Innocenzio to disagree.

The night of the party was filled with excitement. The large mansion was filled with the most elegant people he’d ever seen. Some he’d met before while out in the evenings around the city and some were stranger. But they all had a certain quiet about them and calm that he had never seen anywhere else, not even in a church or monestary.

The mother, the beautiful mother who still took his breath away when he saw her, asked him to sing. Innocenzio was feeling happy and light so he sang the drinking song from the fairly new opera La Traviata and to his delight the group joined in. They all had good voices. Afterwards they gathered around Innocenzio and congratulated him on his success and welcomed him into their society.

While he was delighted and honored there was a certain sense of unease about him. Innocenzio had a sense that something was about to happen, as if he was a lamb facing the hungry jaws of a lion. A strong sense of fear started to creep into his soul. He was confused and ashamed. After all, he was in the home of people who had become dear friends, a second family almost.

The mother, pulled him aside and put her arm in his. “My dear Innocenzio, my love, do not fear. I know what is in your heart and soul. You know us so you sense that we are different. We are different you know. We’re very different from you.”

Her eyes were the color of a fantasy seascape, her lips perfect, her chestnut hair was loose around her shoulders. He lost himself and took her into his arms and kissed her. His head went light. She stepped back and smiled. It was as if he’d lost his entire heart and more so his soul to her.

“I could take your soul if I wished, but dear Innocenzio, I must tell you a story of my life and of my people.” Then she sat him down and told him the most fantastic and horrific tale he’d ever heard in his life. He was both seduced and repulsed. His senses were confused, his emotions out of control, his body yearning for everything she had to offer.

—————————————————-

2013

Sometimes being a mom is everything, but sometimes I like to have my time with my friends.  I heard the knock on my door and standing there was my dear friend  back from a trip to Europe.

“Juliette” he said with his gorgeous voice, “you are still more beautiful than Venus herself”.

“And you’re still full of crap Innocenzio D’Antonio ” I said with a smile.

“Never,” he said taking my hands and kissing my cheek.

We don’t keep many friends so long, but when we do it is worth it. Every time I see my mother I want to thank her for talking Innocenzio into being one of us.

As Vampires we don’t bring just anyone into our world, but when we do it is magic.

On the other hand, anytime a true friendship forms, even if nobody changes, it is magic and a true joy.

_____________________________________________

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

dashing man

Cockroaches of the Space Time Continuum

 

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My mother always said, “Time Travelers are the cockroaches of the space time continuum.”

She should know. They love her. She hates them. I don’t blame her.

Mom is one of those scary alpha Vampires. She is always calm and collected without a hair out of place or a stain on her shirt (something I could never achieve.) She can put the chill of death in anyone but at the same time can seduce and charm like no other. She is a predator through and through.

That said, she has problems with Time Travelers. She attracts them like a possum attracts fleas. Moth to a flame. Freaks to her daughter. All the clichés apply.

Time Travelers are like those pretentious fools who show up at a Civil War reenactment or a Dickens’ Christmas Fair dressed in their Star Fleet Command uniforms (Spock and Kirk) expecting everyone to ohhhhh and ahhhh over them and tell them “You’re so smart. Your mother must be proud of you.” It is only fun for those in the wrong costumes.

Aside from inappropriate behavior, Time Travelers are usually dishonest and traveling with stolen technology. Honestly do you believe a man born in 1959 could have invented a time machine that works? He’ll tell you he did but he more than likely killed the original owner or obtained the machine through other dishonest means. More than likely the time machine wasn’t even from this galaxy (most aren’t).

I know this sounds far-fetched, but walk in my shoes for a 154 years and you’ll see a lot of things the average person would never imagine much less believe in.

Vampires don’t have a problems with the concept of time travel. It is the Time Travelers we don’t like.

Time Travelers, as a rule, come along never clean or dirty enough for the period, their costume and language always wrong, trying to blend in and trying to make things better or worse. Time Travelers think they have high moral compass and know what is right for everyone. They have no idea. There are the few honest historians of the lot…I take that back…the honest ones are only in fiction. The real Time Travelers are sick and twisted individuals who go where they aren’t invited and don’t care who they screw with.

They think they can meet Queen Victorian or Hitler or Cleopatra or Bill Clinton and change the world, or gain riches or power or whatever it is they’re after.

But sometimes I have to admit that I wonder about going back in time. I used to imagine what my parents were like when they were young, falling in love in the 17th century. I wondered what the elders were like 2,000 years ago.

Why mom, you and dad looked great in those clothes. How did you manage to get anything done?

Why mom, you and dad looked great in those clothes. How did you manage to get anything done?

 

I wish I could go back in time and change things with my kids a bit. At least this week. I wish my son had told me about the crappy teachers his sister was assigned to this year (first year of high school.) His excuse is that he had all honors classes and different teachers. I wish I could jump in some sort of space/time machine and see how he’ll do in the different colleges he has been accepted to. His first choice right now is a prestigious college on the coast where he wants to study Environmental Science and minor in Music. His best friend is also considering it. Considering it… the boys have it all planned out. I know it will be a good choice, the right choice, but I’m his mom. I have to make myself sick over these things.

I’d like to see how the pyramids in Egypt were built. I’d like to see the Vampires of the Middle Ages. I’d like to see everything I see in paintings come to life. I mean, wouldn’t we all? Who wouldn’t be curious about it. Who wouldn’t want to see the wonders of the ancient world? Who wouldn’t like to see live dinosaurs standing as tall as a house?

 

It is all just a bunch of strange physics!

It is all just a bunch of strange physics!

So the other night I was visiting with the Elders, Tellias and Eleora at their grand Victorian farm house. My mom had driven up from San Francisco (a city with a large Vampire population) for a visit.

She was curled up on the couch in the parlor wearing jeans and a deep purple cashier sweater set and pearls my father had given her at least 100 years ago. Her chestnut colored hair fell across her shoulders, which I could tell were tense. We look a lot alike except her hair is longer and her eyes are more blue, and she is beautiful in one of those stunning head turning ways.

Tellias was dressed in a black velvet smoking jacket and purple plaid pants. His white blonde hair was tied back today. He looked about 19 but he was well over 2,000.

My mother was complaining that she was getting no rest from the Time Travelers. That must either mean that something is happening, or about to happen or else they were just Hell bent on driving her crazy.

“I’m going to stop this nonsense once and for all,” she said with almost a growl in her voice.

Tellias furrowed his brow at her. “What are you planning on doing?”

“I’m going to change history,” said my mother.

“Samantha you don’t mean to…”

She smiled showing a bit of fangs. “What a tragedy it will be when two seasoned time travelers don’t return home.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Your grandchildren don’t need any crazies screwing up their future.” I thought they could do that all on their own. Then I turned to my ancient friend. “Tellias, when was the first time you encountered a Time Traveler?”

Tellias shrugged. “In Britain, when I was still with the Romans. When I was a Roman. They came in speaking their Catholic school Latin as if we’d understand everything they said, much less believe their ruse. Of course they didn’t fare well.”

“What happened?”

“They had come to see the Romans in Britain and expected to find some simple folks hugging trees and a bunch of gladiators. Oh but the wonder in their eyes. It was far more complex and interesting than anything they’d ever imagined. We were all a lot smarter and sophisticated and free thinking than they were ever taught in their history classes. I warned them to stay near but they went off on their own. By the time we found them one had already been killed by the Romans for being a general pain in the ass and a threat,  and the other two were in bad shape. The woman ended up settling in with the Warlock next door. It was a strange sort of love at first sight situation. The man tried to make the best of it, but he died within a year of an infection related illness. His body couldn’t handle the grime of the time.”

He stopped then called into the next room, “Eleora, what was that Warlocks name we used to live next to, the one who married the Time Traveler?”

Eleora came out, rust colored curls flying around her head, “Her name was Tiffany. Tiffany Green. He was Hamon.”

“Whatever happened to them Eleora dear?”

“She died a few years later in childbirth. Tragic, tragic, tragic. I really did like her. I liked her a lot. She wasn’t like the other Time Travelers. Not so much the idiot. Not mean and stupid. I hear Hamon is still around somewhere. Hamon. Sounds like some sort of cooking term. Put the Ham on before you boil the water. Or an organ. Play some skate music on your Hamon dear and we’ll take a spin around the rink.”

“But,” I asked “Couldn’t you have turned Tiffany into a Vampire so she could have stayed longer?”

Tellias shook his head, “Time travel messes with your system. She would have died a rather horrible death if we’d tried to convert her, plus maybe lost her soul in the process. So no, once they’re here they’re well sort of screwed.”

“Seasoned Time Travelers start to get, well overly emotional and confident. A bad combination,” added my mother.

My mother pulled me aside later and told me not to talk too much of Time Travel. She said it attracted them and worried others. According to her it is a nice idea in theory but the reality is so jacked up that nobody wins or really learns anything from it. I wasn’t going to argue. She speaks from experience.

So for now I’ll be happy to time travel in books and movies and walks among old places. I’ll speak with those who are older than me and hear the whispers of ghosts. I’ll have my own stories and ramble on about them (or just keep rambling…)

And I’ll look forward to the future – which I believe will be bright and full of wonder.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

Time travel makes me dizzy.

Time travel makes me dizzy.

 Note to my regular readers – this post kind of fell flat and didn’t meet my original expectations. I did not do justice to those I was writing about or … well, let’s just say my usual rush didn’t work for me this time. I  plan on rewriting this story later so that it will all of the details and feeling you deserve. 

For more on my mother Samantha and Time Travelers CLICK HERE.

For more on my Vampire mom  CLICK HERE. 

For Dancing on the Beach CLICK HERE.

For a short story about Time Travelers CLICK HERE.

Another Note: I’m traveling this week – not time traveling, just traveling NOW, so this is a rerun from 2014, so I guess you could say it is kind of like time travel back into the not so distant past. Have fun. I’ll have new fun and nonsense soon.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

And just for fun sing along…