Spellbound Blood

Time, Numbers and Cranky Pants

2011-06-16T16:14:00.000-07:00

You know how I feel about full moons, eclipses and other planetary phenomena. I like to attribute all the annoying or strange things that happen in my life to the heavens. It comforts me, knowing that Pluto is just being his dark punishing self or Venus is trying to get a little more comfortable on her cloud, so all is well below. Well, I don't really go to those extremes often, but this week was exceptional.

One patient inquired about my pentacle raven pendant. "Are you Jewish?" "No." "I saw you're wearing a star of David." "It's a star, but not David's." "Oooh, ah, are you Wiccish?" "It's a pentacle." "Can you make things disappear?" "No, it's not like that. It's a belief in natural energy."

Now, there is a blank stare. "So, you're magic?" "If only...no, I'm a regular human. Now it's time to stay still and quiet for your test. No talking, okay?" "Sure."

I wear that pendant every day and have for many years. Very few people comment about it, although one woman offered to pray for me to keep me from Satan. When I explained I don't believe in Satan, she handed me a prayer card and squeezed my hand. Others might comment "what an interesting piece of jewelry that is...is that a bird?", but drop the subject after that.

After his test, my inquisitive patient continued his quest. "Are you married or in a relationship? I'd like to increase my knowledge of Wiccish...I could enlighten you about Judaism." "Thanks, but I'm not available for consultations. There are plenty of websites and books if you're interested. I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for." "Maybe, but one more question. Can you transport me back to 1968?" He was serious. "If I could, I would, Frank. I don't have powers like that." I looked into his brown eyes. He looked like a big disappointed puppy. "Oh well, nice meeting you."

He ambled off into the waiting room. I closed the door and related the tale to my boss, who responded, "1968? Yeah! Can I choose my age? Can I retain my current knowledge and experience? Do I have to age?" "Whoa, slow down Dr. R. Yes, to everything. You do know I can't alter time, right?" "Yeah, but what if you could..." Hmmm, what if.

The following day Dr. R was still calculating which age would be ideal for his 1968 persona. It must have touched a nerve. Things were getting hectic. We were all under pressure, but Dr. R. really had his cranky pants on and he was not letting anyone forget it. The morning was not fun. It was later in the day when the transformation occurred. He picked up a patient's chart and read the last part of his name as "rickie". "Vick, only you and I know two songs that have that name in it...wait, one is Mickey not Rickie...but you know the other one. I smiled and nodded and went on to my next patient. About half an hour later Dr. R was reading some of the images with his back to me.

"Rikki don't lose that number, you don't wanna call nobody else, send it off in a letter to yourself...Rikki don't lose that number, it's the only one you own, you might use it if you feel better when you get home...pardon my serenade, Vick." "Dr. R, you can serenade me anytime." This was an extremely rare occurrence. We may talk song titles or groups, but Dr. R. actually singing at work is a pleasant surprise.

To add the surprise is the fact that this is not the first time a doctor sang this song for me. In 1974, when the song was released, my co-worker, Anil Sain, sang his version..."Vickie, Don't Lose That Number", as we coaxed an old Picker Rectilinear Scanner along to finish the day's work. He stood on one side, I stood on the other, adjusting the line spacing so we could get out of Dodge. He sang as he adjusted his margins and we both had a good laugh. Life just goes in one big circle. If that song had been released in 1968 I think I would have had second thoughts about my raven and pentacle. What would Frank say?

oops! i published this to my vampire blog...heh!

picture of old nuclear rectilinear scanner...

Vampire Vacation

2009-11-08T13:32:00.000-08:00

Jeanette and Rebecca sipped their coffee as they sat in the small patio of the Oaxaca Holiday Inn. The usually attentive staff seemed distracted, speaking in hushed whispers.

"Beck, what are they saying?"

"They're talking about a murder. Very gruesome...and the corpse has been drained of blood."

"Are you kidding? We came all the way to Oaxaca and we still have bad company?"

"That situation we have to deal with needs to be done today, while the sun shines, Jeanette."

"I don't know if we can do everything in one day. This is just what I feared, but we're here. Let's get on with it. I hope you have some grand plan for tonight."

"If we were in real danger last night would have been our last night."

"You're always so reassuring Beck."

At dusk the cathedral has a supernatural glow. Iridescence shimmers on it's walls. The dome reflects the shades of orange in the setting sun. Oaxacans and tourists alike stroll along the streets on their way to the zocalo, but this evening they seem uneasy as they walk the familiar path.

The Beginning

2008-11-07T12:37:00.000-08:00

He watched from the shadows as she tip-toed around the puddles along Third Avenue. Black leather boots covered her long legs. She pushed her auburn curls from her face as she checked her watch. She was coming closer, hurrying to get in from the misty rain. He heard her heart beating. He could smell her blood, the scent mixed with a musky perfume she wore, quite pleasant. Yes, now he could hear thoughts. Well not all her thoughts. It was kind of like a shortwave radio, a bit of interference here and there, but definitely good reception.

"Where is this club, Rebecca? I could strangle you...These boots are too tight...Oh, here we are...My hair's a mess...Where's Rebecca?..."

She entered a small club. He waited, then followed her. It would be difficult to hear her, but he was experienced. After all, he'd been doing this for two hundred-sixteen years. He'd learned a trick or two.

"Jeanette! Over here."

"Rebecca, it's a fine night for celebrating."

"Oh Jeanette. Congratulations on your book deal. Here's a vodka martini for you. Let's have a toast."

"All right, here's to vampires. May they always be good dates."

This was worse than he had expected. Now they're toasting vampires. Just the sound of that made his skin crawl, toast and vampire should never be in the same sentence. Fire is one of the few things that can destroy us. Now, who is that luscious brunette, Rebecca? He needed to find out just how involved in this book she was. He made himself comfortable, ordered a Dewar's straight up and listened.

"Yes, I think I may have dated a vampire or two in the past."

"Oh, Rebecca, was that your Goth phase?"

He enjoyed seeing their necks extended as they lifted their heads in laughter. He was almost distracted from his assignment.

"I'm so grateful you're able to help me research this book, Beck. I'll be sure to acknowledge your help."

"This will be fun Jeanette. Listen, we haven't been up to Heartwood for a long time. We need a good road trip. Saturday morning, at the crack of dawn, you, me and the convertible."

"Tim is letting you drive his pride and joy?"

"Actually, he wanted me to give it a good run. What good is a Mustang convertible cooped up in a garage? He'll be home from Afghanistan in six months. I miss my boys."

"Having two sons there is tough Beck, but they'll be home for hugs and cars and girls soon.
Here's a toast to them and the men and women in uniform."

Their glasses clinked.

Across the room he raised his glass in silent tribute. He had great respect for all warriors. He was still one himself.
So, they were heading for Heartwood Saturday. Well, that's convenient.

Later, as they left the bar, Jeanette glanced behind her.

"What is it Jeanette?"

"I've had this strange feeling all night. It's as though someone is watching us."

"It happens. You might be tired. Let's head for home. The car is just up the block. No Mustang tonight."

They got into the car. Rebecca adjusted her rear view mirror and they were on their way home.
He watched them drive away, jotting down the license plate number. He pulled the collar of his leather jacket up and sniffed the night air. Just enough time for a little hunting excursion before returning home to Heartwood Manor. He reached for his cellphone and dialed.

"Hey Ed. Dawkins here. Up for a quick hunt? Great. The usual place."

Spellbound Blood

2008-07-06T17:41:00.000-07:00

Two sisters and their sire
Stained to the core.
Oh, oh, tears for the spellbound blood!
We lived his long-drawn life of pain
Until this dazing hour
This last suffering
His affable demise.
Chorus: What took place?
Antigone: We can only guess.
Chorus: So he is gone?
Antigone: Gone as you would wish.
No bloody war
No deep sea caught him up,
But he was plucked so far away from me

Oedipus at Colonus~Sophocles