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Blood Red Moon

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posted on Apr, 14 2014 @ 12:57 AM
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Blood Red Moon


"Papa Show us something scary.” Pleaded Cindy, my step-grand daughter, a bright and beautiful seven year old with long flowing locks of auburn hair, and a cheeky, dimpled smile that reveled Shirley Temple. In fact, she always dances and sings along with her favorite You Tube videos, songs like Bruno’s (the kids call ‘The Monkey Song’) viral hit music video.

Her little brother, my step-grand son Rafael, was eagerly fearful with anticipation of what he might see. Rafael, a four-year-old Dennis the Mennace type boy, trying to stand tall with his older sister and their cousin Clair.

Now Clair, a thin six year old girl with long angelic blond hair and a smile that makes it hard for Papa (That is what they call Grandfather, which would be yours truly), to say No, but with will power, not impossible for me.

As they stood there, I slowly rotated my swivel rocker towards the laptop sitting on a roll top desk, I stop short of facing the laptop and swung the chair swiftly back towards them, Cindy and Rafael that is, for Claire was not present, and simultaneously leapt from the still moving chair, and with a “Boo” with hands up, fingers shaping claws, and a volume adequate to cause a surprised reaction from my granting the wish to see something scary.

Raphael stumbled back having trouble maintaining balance, mouth open and contorted and wide eyes that reflected the room light with the effect of the reflection being a full moon. Cindy jerked back startled but recovered quickly and in a stammered tone retorted, “Papa, I meant a scary video.” I was in the act of a self awarded attaboy, and thought about this.

Now I got an idea, and improvising, without hesitation, yet softly spoke the words that would start the tale.
“You know I’m a werewolf, don’t you?
Rafael faded back and whimpered “Are werewolves real?” Your not a real werewolf are -you Papa? I’m scared!” while his full moon eyes got even bigger.
Cindy, noticeably unaffected replied, you are not. Papa” and turning towards her little brother on the right, closest to the hall leading out of my room, with a nice view of Seattle the house standing up on a hill, with other residents below, the neighborhood a little calmer than some, but reaching miles in all directions.

Next, I loaded a slideshow I hade made with one of the pictures being a photo of me blended with a wolf. Just the head attached to a nice suited torso and cropped at the waste. Rapidly moving to find the one picture before the grandchildren lost interest, I grabbed it and proudly displayed it in full screen on my monitor for all to see. Drawing the kids’ attention to it, I continued the story. “See!” I exclaimed excitedly with dark emotion, “this is me the last time…” then suddenly looking down toward the floor, with sad demeanor, I continued, “The last time I turned into a werewolf.” I paused. Ever so slowly I raised my head with shoulders low for that I’m a victim too look a killer on trial might deploy, my eyes raising as a beautiful enchanting sunrise, looking for sympathy, they met Cindy’s and I followed through to end my fear giving days with the ultimate blow of disappointment they would soon feel afterwards.
“But don’t worry, it only happens on a blood red moon.


As you might surmise, the grandchildren suddenly had more questions.
I will continue with Cindy’s response.
“No, …is this real…are their really werewolves Papa? You’re just trying to scare us. They aren’t real. ///Rafael, don’t be scared, it is not real Papa’s just scaring us…” This inquisition without opportunity to respond continued for a bit longer and I had to think quickly. There it was. A book of fly-fishing flies with a piece of fishing line sticking out of the closed bi-fold opening. I remembered looking at then earlier and that the piece of line was cut about 4 or 5 inches and unattached to a fly hook. I picked up the book of flies and pulled the loose piece of fishing line from it.

“I can prove it,” I declared with coming triumph and glory in my voice. “This is a hair from last time I turned into a werewolf,” I told in a defiant tone challenging anyone to say otherwise and walk away without a bruise, black eye or worse.

Cindy took it from my offering hand, rolled it between her thumb and forefinger for a moment, bent it, tugged, pulled, and then looked at me.
This isn’t real,” she sharply voiced with undertones of threat back at me.
“What is in that box?” she inquired, pointing at the flies’ wallet I had just reset on the desk. “You can’t open that. Did you see how I pulled out the hair? It cannot be opened until the blood red moon.”

Now Rafael was out of there. He goes to grandma and tries to tell her about me being a werewolf and the blood red moon and how the box can’t be opened in his still developing use of language, And while Rafael was busy getting grandma up to speed on things, O toyed with Cindy a bit longer.

In her list of questions and again now asking the question I wanted to answer, She asked, “When is the next blood red moon?” at which point I stopped her. Now, I know that on the 15th April 2014, there will be a red moon due to an eclipse where the earth is between the sun and moon. Also, it is rare and there will not be another this century. Today was the 10th April 2014.
I raised my arm at the elbow and spread my hand palm out and concurred with my hand, “5 more days!” The dread in those words was chilling.
Cindy again questions my sincerity, “Your just, making this up. There is no such thing as a blood red moon!”

Anticipating this, I was now going to prove all this was true beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Typing search words into the address bar of my laptop’s Os’s Browser, I then hit the enter key with a confident finger punch. Up came a list of results and I looked at one that seemed like a source from an Ivy League College, especially to a 7 year old trying to make sense of the validity or fantasy of my story.
There it was in black and white. Everything about the red moon, the only one this century, or for the rest of this century, I can’t say now for sure, but the reaction was priceless. Cindy too now ran out of there to Grandma and said, “It’s true! Papa is a werewolf and there is going to be a blood red moon in 5 days!”

As I expected, I spent the rest of the evening watching and intermittently intervening with my woman, her daughter Cindy’s mother and an Aunt consoling little Rafael for he was truly scared, or was he just enjoying the attention? It was hard to tell.

The next evening when I arrived home from work, once again little Rafael was still scared. A friend who had been over to do some yard work for me was also there.
Keeper is his nickname and acknowledging this as his preference, Keeper is what we all call him.

As the evening progressed, I finally brought up the blood red moon to Keeper and now that he understood the story, told me he was wondering why Rafael was going around all day timidly asking about the blood red moon to anyone who would listen and I believe he somehow wanted to really believe it was not real, but with the imagination of a 4 year old, the chances of this happening are nil.

Continued Next Post...
edit on 14-4-2014 by imd12c4funn because: correction



posted on Apr, 14 2014 @ 12:58 AM
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reply to post by imd12c4funn
 


I consoled Rafael reminding him that they wanted to be scared and it was just a story. It was not real and not to worry, because: Papa’s got your back. This finally seemed to sink into his fear darkened mind, and he slept hard, unlike the previous night. Cindy was one the fence, but clearly not upset like her brother.

The next evening, Saturday the 13th of April 2014, I came home from work after dark.
Another friend came by on his motorcycle and said he was racing another bike and his got real noisy.

Upon pulling the valve lash hole caps, we found an adjusting stud and nut had broken off one valve assembly in two pieces. Later, he found another nut chewed up but no other valve train damage. I let him borrow my truck, and after removing the canopy and loading his bike, he was off to get home. Now, it was around 9:00PM and I went into my computer area where I like to hang out, and noticed the grandkids now had a visitor of their own.

Claire, who was spending the night, (they all have spring break this week), was getting the skinny on blood red moon. I look out my windows with the view and what do I see? A neighbor about three properties down as the crow flies are in their yard burning a bonfire. You don’t see open bonfires much around here now a days, but this being one of the few areas still unincorporated, I guess a permit was issued, or they are old school and lit up anyway.

I could not resist the temptation. I walked to the living room where the three grandkids were talking and said, “Cindy, I want to show you something. She followed me to the window as once again, little Rafael was trying to bring Clair up to speed on the story in his not quite intelligible speech.

I pointed out the window, down to the bonfire and told Cindy, “There is only 2 days left until the blood red moon, and look! Witches are burning a tree getting ready for it.” Then, looking up at the ceiling, I finished with, “I can feel it too. It is getting close!”

As she realized there was a real fire and people in dark clothes standing around it, She gasped and ran to grandma shouting, “The witches are burning a tree! They really are! ~ I saw it myself through the window. The witches are really burning a tree and in only 2 more days, the blood red moon is coming~!!

As the other children, and the adults as well gave a freaked out puzzled look amongst themselves, I grabbed a .1959 Children’s astrology book and in the eclipse section, there was an illustration of a red moon. I approached just to drive it all the way home, more devastating evidence in hand, I pointed to the illustration and made it clear that they new about this way back in 1959.

This was the final nail in the coffin of the story of the blood red moon.
Now, it looked as if even the adults believed it. It was a Kodak moment of the millennium for me, but alas. No camera handy.

As you can imagine, this caused quite a stir and now Claire did not want to spend the night. She and Cindy left with Claire’s mother to spend the night there, and Rafael, who helped with more yard work and played, came inside all fussy and missing a shoe.
He is now asleep.

As I write this story tonight on the eve of the blood red moon, I wonder what mischief will happen tomorrow. Will I really become a werewolf? Should I costume up and really get them? Could this once in a lifetime blood red moon make for a magical evening after all?

Tomorrow night will be interesting, that is for sure.



posted on Apr, 14 2014 @ 04:50 AM
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Great story. Liked the ending.

Please write some more. I'd like to follow this thread and read it to my young ones.

Regards,

Bally..



 
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