L'aura del Campo

Vampire snacks...

When I began to write "Blood of the Garlic", I didn't intend to murder anyone. After-all these were vegetarian vampires and I was just a journalist living among them.

And they were kind and humorous as well. Well ...most. Lily never had a sense of humor. Too many years working in the cooler of a hog-factory had frozen a frown on her face. But Bawang made up for that with his/her warped sense of being. Ah... Bawang... someone once asked Nightengale whether Bawang was hermaphroditic. Unfortunately Bawang overheard. Stories circulated about a fanged monster among us for years after.

And then Betty came along. Old, infirm, she got bitten on her death bed by a vagrant (no up-standing VD or LDV would ever bite a dying bag of bones ...no way ) . Not able to die she longed for death. When she got hit by a car the local mortician (who kept a wooden stake in a spare coffin) was chosen to do the deed. Thoom convinced us it was better that way. Betty had to die because she no longer wanted to live. Thoom was the kindest person I've ever met.

VDs ....Vampires by Day was the main group in town. Just folks like any others. They'd hidden in the muck lands near Kansas City to be close to a source of blood with having to stress out over it. With so many accidents due to drunk driving and occasional drive-by shootings, there was always a fresh supply and ...didn't I already mention it? One of us was a mortician. An excellent career choice we all laughed.

My closest friends were part of the other group ...LDVs ...Latter Day Vampires. We worshiped garlic. Well ...not exactly, better to say ...the blood of the garlic! And onions, leeks and a lot of other stinky things. Our main garden was located far enough away to not offend our neighbors who were allergic to it. "If it doesn't kill you, it might just cure you", Thoom would always say. And Czeszniak would howl while I snuggled with Knyflok in our favorite corner.

Both VDs and LDVs had strict rules of conduct. As a minority that chose to remain invisible it was important to be law abiding to a fault. And sex was taboo in most cases. When Brent, the son of the mortician, got a local non-V pregnant ...he had to be dealt with ...severely. We discussed how we had a handy wooden spike available but no one wanted to suggest that his father do the deed. Mostly, we wanted to scare the wits into him ...in hopes he'd find some wits before the next catastrophe. Not willing to take that risk though we did worse than kill him. We banished him ...to Detroit. Our urban cousins were a lot tougher than us country folks. We figured that would learn him ...if they didn't silver-bullet him first.

Knyflok and I had gotten closer over the years. I begged him to bite me again and again to turn me into a vampire. Didn't work. Seems my blood was resistant. And too bitter-salty according to him. I was an acquired taste. I sobbed in front of Sara Shoom as she danced around our room one night. Everyone knew. No one knew what to do. Garlic couldn't cure my pain.

But I knew hemlock could. And knew where it grew by the river.

I've arranged to have Knyflok hold me as I take it. He's kind and loving that way. And he understands. So many centuries ...so many lovers. Buried them all. As he will bury me. Next to Betty where violets now grow. Where come spring the daffodils, their roots buried deep within my chest, will great his timeless smiling face.

I've left him my book to be published some day. Three volumes of stories I wouldn't call a full meal. Just snacks like the daily nibbles he will miss.

In peace, Ajo.

© Kåre Enga [169.73] 2012-08-08

Written in response to MURDER ...today's prompt for "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" 
Many of the stories edited/unedited are found here: "Blood of the Garlic" 

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