The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I think it was a nice arc…I don’t actually know…you see…almost as soon as that dirt clod left my hand the darkness swallowed it…all we could do was wait out the hang time…one thousand and one…one thousand and two…one thousand and thr…~KAPANGcrumblecrumblecrumble~…DIRECT HIT!



After a few seconds we heard the SAWING stop, so we dropped down the back side of the dirt pile and poked our heads up just enough so we could see the garage. The man came out and looked down the side, then he slowly walked the length and peered behind it, it was difficult to see him and that made us a little uncomfortable. Finally he returned to the front where the back porch light illuminated him a little and we relaxed. He looked up at the roof and then, unbeknownst to him, directly at us, he looked out at the neighborhood, then back down the side and then he walked in, closed the door to the garage. and after a few minutes the SAWING started again.



Well…we jumped right up and were amazed how he could look right at us and not see. So I reached down and found a second fist size dirt clod and hurled it into the night sky…one thousand and one…one thousand and two…one thousand and three…~KAPANGcrumblecrumblecrumble~…OH BOY!



Again the SAWING stopped and again we dropped down the back side of that dirt pile, heads sticking up watching. Here comes the man, but this time he has a flashlight! A BIG flashlight! Quickly and quietly we slid to the bottom of the pile and listened. I looked up at the top and could see it was being lit by the flashlight…~Holy Shit!~…then we heard the man…”YOU BETTER KNOCK OFF THE BULLSHIT!”…we remained silent and watched the light being aimed, back and forth, on either side of the dirt pile…~Holy Shit!~…”I DON’T THINK IT’S FUNNY!”…we were pretty sure he was fishing…”DO YOU HEAR ME?!”…~Holy Shit!~.



Now my plan was to simply wait him out…I mean…he hadn’t seen us and for all he knew he was talking to nobody! He was still by his garage and eventually he’d feel stupid and go back inside and we could halt operations for the remainder of the evening…so why…WHY…the kid with Morris and I, with a high squeaky voice, started a bad imitation of a cat, I have no idea…”Meeeeeyoowwwwww…Meeyoww”…we couldn’t believe it and we whispered hissed for him to…~Shut Up~…but it was too late.



Now the guy knew for certain someone was there and not only there but exactly where there was! If it hadn’t been so funny I would have killed the kid and by the way this just totally pissed the man off…”OH YOU’RE A REAL SMARTASS HUH?!”…and he started coming, we could hear him running and he knew exactly where he was going…~Holy Shit!~.



He was coming and I admit, unashamedly, freely, we were in a near panic! I ran for the east side of the second big dirt pile and thank Sunny Jesus, Morris and the kid followed because we had barely got there and began peaking around the side when we saw the man come around the side of the pile we just left…~Holy Shit!~…I pointed a stern finger at the kids face as we watched the man shine his flashlight all around…”YOU DON’T WANT TO PLAY WITH ME!”…we shrank back as he lit up the side of our dirt pile…”YOU WON’T LIKE WHAT HAPPENS!”…he ran his light over a few of the pits…”DO YOU HEAR ME?!”…~Holy Shit!~.



I think he finally decided we were gone and we watched him start walking back to his garage. We went the other way, hiding from dirt pile to dirt pile, watching behind us, stopping and listening. We made our way through the Evergreen Forest and came out at Dee Dee Smith’s back yard. From there it was up to Limerick Rd. and we walked back to the neighborhood. We asked the kid what was with the bad cat imitation and he said…”I just thought it’d be funny”…we had to give him that.



What? Why the title “Lightening Strikes Twice”? Well hang on…this tale’s not finished…four nights later…we went back…



~To be continued~

We stood atop one of at least a dozen giant dirt piles. These were made from the excavated crawl spaces and foundations of the same number of new homes that were being built in a new addition at the end of Fox Avenue, our neighborhood was growing. Fox Avenue ran east from Rt. 101 and after roughly two blocks abruptly turned north becoming Ohio Street and then running into Limerick Rd. after a block or so.



Gone was the dirt path Butch had run down with the hammer stuck in his head. Gone was the big mulberry bush (it was more like a tree actually) where a friend and I swapped girlfriends during a kissing marathon. Gone was the battle field of numerous BB gun fights and although the tree house still stood, it was soon to be an eyesore in someone’s back yard and that would mean its demise. The woods and field to the west of it remained recognizable, but baby…times were a changing and it was the first time I realized that not only would times change, sometimes they ran right over your world.



Males are drawn to construction sites like moths to flame and we were no exceptions. We found ourselves at the new addition and atop a dirt pile at 1:30 am, bemoaning our world being laid asunder between typical observations of which neighborhood girls had breasts, which girls were getting breasts and just when did we think we might be able to touch them…you know…the usual male banter.



We started weighing the pros and cons of losing our world, but gaining big piles of dirt and holes in the ground and cement blocks and 2x4s and plywood and basically new avenues of possible mayhem when suddenly…at 1:30 in the morning…the man that lived on the corner of Fox Avenue and Ohio Street turned on his back porch light, came out and walked to his big steel garage and went inside.



We had no idea who he was other than to know that he lived in our neighborhood. He and his wife were childless and that meant there was no reason for us to know him, or for him to know us. We were sure he knew there were little felons in the neighborhood, but we doubted he could pick us out of a line up.



A little needed information…that big steel garage was just that, we’ve all seen a little metal backyard shed, this garage was just like that only 10 times bigger…no windows and all steel…even the roof. And the new addition had yet to have any form of exterior lighting and that meant is was very dark, dark enough that the man didn’t even see us as he walked to his garage. We were only 20 yards from his property, but to him, we were invisible (uh oh).



Well we were stunned to see anyone other than us awake at such a time, who did this guy think he was? The night was ours damnit! We watched as he walked into the garage and shut the door. I can’t explain why, but there was some kind of anticipation hanging in the air, all we could seem to do was stand there silently waiting, it was as though we knew something was about to happen, we just didn’t know what.



And then…and I shit you not…a SAW started running inside that garage and those steel walls gave that sound a really odd…other worldly…mungo spooky…sound.



“The Tale of Janet Harlen” was once again told and we all broke out in goose bumps! And when the guy quit sawing…came out and put a bag in the trunk of his car…then went back in and began SAWING again…well…in those moments we became sure of two things…



ONE…the guy that lived on the corner of Fox Avenue and Ohio Street was a serial killer and was SAWING bodies up in his garage late at night…it made perfect sense…and TWO…and even more importantly…we were going to have to mess with this guy…so…



I reached down and picked up a fist size dirt clod and riffled it with little kid might in a nice arc towards that steel garage. I think it was a nice arc…I don’t actually know…you see…almost as soon as that dirt clod left my hand the darkness swallowed it…all we could do was wait out the hang time…



~To be continued~

…when Janet Harlen was a wee lass and her neighbor ran power tools in his garage, that would make Janet’s television go off kilter…yes…that used to happen before the days of satellites and cable, a running saw next door and you could forget watching Heckle And Jeckle! In any event…



Saturday morning, Janet’s trying to watch cartoons, but her neighbor is running a saw in his garage and what do we know about that situation? Right…Janets’ television is off kilter. So…she walks over to the garage and knocks on the door. Her neighbor opens the door a crack and peers out…Janet asks…”Are you going to stop sawing soon cause it’s screwing up the television.”…her neighbor says…”Yes, just a few more minutes and I’ll be done.”…then he shuts the door and Janet goes home.



True to his word, after a short time he stops and Janets’ television is working tip top…all is right with the world, Janet watches cartoons unfettered.



What Janet didn’t find out till later is this…her neighbor was sawing up a man he killed in Toledo the night before…the only reason the authorities caught him was because he showed a gas station attendant the guys’ feet.



This story plays a part in my next offering…

They had fenced in their entire backyard, all the way around, one of the typical chest high chain link kind. These were the neighbors to the north of my fathers’ property, the Keegans, Old Man Keegan and Old Lady Keegan as we used to call them and of course they also had their little demon.



Now…you know me…I’m an animal lover, especially dogs, I LOVE dogs! Alright…not so much cows, I LOVE eating cows, so I cannot say I’m a cow lover other then to eat them…but…dogs are aces in my book! This is indisputable! BUT…when Old Lady Keegan let her nasty black grey muzzled wheezing snargling barking ill tempered hateful little pug into that fenced in backyard, that changed…I HATED THAT HELL SPAWN!



As soon as that little monster walked out the door it would run up and down the length of the fence that ran beside my fathers’ property. It would put its face right down at the bottom and snarl and wheeze and spew and spit and snargle and squeal the entire time, this was non-stop! That horrid little creature wouldn’t stop! It would carry on until it was hoarse and couldn’t bark at all, it would run up and down the length of that fence and make the most guttural heinous sounds I’ve ever heard, many times I thought it was going to die, right then and there, it just went keeeeeeyyyyyraaaazzeeee, it was pugnacious pug pandemonium!



If I and any of my friends were doing anything in my fathers’ yard…well…you couldn’t…that beast just wouldn’t stop. I’d run up and down the length of that fence with it and tap its nose through the fence with a stick, or perhaps a croquet mallet. OMG…when my foot was right by its face, that little fucker would just lose it! It would spin and flop and go into squealing spasms, growling and snorting…man…I’d give the fence a little kick by its face and scream…”SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP!”.



Of course, eventually, Old Lady Keegan would come to the door and start yelling at me…



Old Lady Keegan…”QUIT TEASING MY DOG!!!”



Me…” STOP YOUR DOG FROM GOING APE SHIT!”



Old Lady Keegan…”HE’S ONLY BARKING BECAUSE YOU’RE TEASING HIM!”



Me…”NO! HE BARKS NON-STOP WHEN YOU LET HIM OUT AND YOU KNOW IT, I CAN’T EVEN GET A DECENT GAME OF STRIP CROQUET GOING WITH THE NEIGHBORHOOD GIRLS WITH ALL THE NOISE THAT LITTLE FUCKER MAKES!”



Well…she would scowl and come off the back steps and retrieve her demon. That scenario played itself out maybe four or five times and that put them on the fast track for our Midnight Special Ops Program.



Now…I cannot say for sure who put the chocolate cake in the screens of their screen door, nor can I say for a certainty who it was that egged their car and I couldn’t swear on a bible that I know who spelled out “Pugly” with weed killer on their front lawn…I only know that these things happened.



Sun down…Mammy Sendoza, Nike Morris, perhaps Tricky Dumpower and yours truly are doing early RECON. We’re about midway across Keegans’ front yard when suddenly…with an agility that belied his age…Old Man Keegan comes bounding out his front door with a shotgun and levels it directly at me! He was laying in wait…it was a trap! That shotgun froze me in my tracks, Mammy, Nike and perhaps Tricky, just kept on walking.



Wouldn’t you think having a shotgun leveled at me would be enough for The Gods of Mayhem? Huh? Wouldn’t you think so? It wasn’t…



Old Lady Keegan is standing in the open front door and she’s screaching at the top of her lungs….”SHOOT HIM!...SHOOT HIM!...SHOOOOOOOOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM SHOOT HIM SHOOT HIM!”…and she’s holding that little monster and I swear to you it sounded like he was howling…”AAaaAAROOOOOT HIM!...~snargle wheeze snargle~…AAaaaRRRROOOOOOOT HIM!...~hack sneeze snargle~… AAROOT HIM ARROOOT HIM ARROOOT HIM!...~wheeeeeeze~”.



After what seemed like a few minute stare down, I started slowly backing away towards my fathers’ yard, one little step at a time. The whole time Old Lady Keegan and that hell spawn screaming for the old man to shoot me.



Man…it was something…

It was early…crack of 10:30, or so…I woke, jumped into my jean cutoffs and in a run, was out of the door! I know there was still scheming going on regarding my induction into a Mental Hospital for the summer and I wasn’t having any of that, believe me, so I kept my time in the homestead at a bare minimum…”HEY! How come Haley never goes home!?”…”His Mom and Dad are trying to put him in a Mental Hospital!”…”NO SHIT?!”…”Yeah!”…”WOW!”…”REALLY?!”…”YES REALLY!”…”WOW!”…I digress…



So…I beat feet over to a friend’s house and find him sitting at his family’s kitchen table. Now…he and his sister were always fighting and this morning was no exception. My friend, at the kitchen table and his sister, somewhere in the bowels of the house, are screaming back and forth…”SHUT UP!”…”YOU SHUT UP”…”I SAID YOU SHUT UP!”…”YOU SHUT UP!”…”I SAID YOU SHUT UP!”…this went on for some time.



Finally with the vocal war temporarily over, in a little peace and quiet, my friend and I got down to the business of mapping out our day of mayhem from the list in our daily planner.



~Tie up some neighborhood girls in the woods and make them kiss us.~…CHECK!

~Sharpen the claw ends of all family hammers.~…CHECK!

~Make lunch from grocery store items, while in the store and eat.~…CHECK!



Just when things seemed to be shaping up, into the kitchen walks my friends’ sister. She fumbles around in the refrigerator and places on the table, bologna, lettuce and mayonnaise and proceeds to make her a fine sandwich. Completed, she sets her sandwich down on a plate and disappears back into the bowels of the house.



My friend is smiling at me as he pulls his pants leg up above his knee, which has the biggest scab on it I have ever seen…I mean…this thing had to be 2 inches square…it was mammoth...how he got it, I don’t know and how he managed to peal it off in one piece, fast…well…I couldn’t fathom that either, but he did.



So…he reaches over and opens his sisters’ sandwich and he slips this humongous scab between two pieces of lettuce and then replaces the sandwich top. I am witnessing a Master of Evil…a true artist. What kind of mind inherently knows that lettuce will disguise a scabs crunch and texture?! And I needed to be in a Mental Hospital?! *snorts*



His sister comes back…sits and makes hateful faces, at the both of us, as she eats the sandwich. I almost couldn’t watch…almost.



She finishes her sandwich and barks at my friend…”WATCHA LOOKIN’ AT?!”. With a smile, he pulls up his pants leg and exposes his bleeding raw knee and then says to her…”Guess what happened to the scab that used to be on this?”…”she screams at him…”WHY SHOULD I CARE…WHAT?!”…he says…”I put it in your sandwich and you just ate it.”.



We could hear her throwing up in the bathroom as we walked out the kitchen door.