Thursday, September 9, 2010

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 40

The Vieux Carré was gripped in the cold fist of a stinging December rain which pelted the windows of Dr. Biamenti’s fine house on Royal Street. Julian’s skin crawled with each sharp tap of angry water on the glass. He paced the plush crimson rug in front of the fireplace in his bedroom.

Robert lay across the settee, his rhythmic breathing periodically interrupted by a raspy wheeze. Julian paused to study his napping friend. He looked pale and gaunt. The strong lines of his face had turned to sharp angles which repelled the firelight to cast clenching shadows around the man’s eyes and jaw.

Julian squinted and rubbed his temples as the faint echo of some distant chatter deep within himself mimicked the staccato of the rain.

“You rest, Robert.” Julian whispered. “Rest for both of us.” He rubbed his head again, “For all three of us…”

Julian took a blanket from the bed and gently placed it over Robert who mumbled in his sleep.

A gentle rap on the door signaled Naasir’s entrance. He smiled as he carried a carafe of water into the room. He placed it silently on the bedside table.

“Shall I help the doctor to his room?” Naasir asked.

“Not yet,” Julian shook his head. “Let’s let him sleep for awhile. He’s quite exhausted.”

“As you wish, Sir.” Naasir nodded.

Julian squinted again, straining to understand the faint squawking which rattled from within.

“Do you hear something, Lord Julian?” Naasir wondered.

“Nothing. I…” Julian paused and changed the subject. “Have you settled in?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. I am in a room with an old man named Cal. He’s a fine man with many things to say.” Naasir replied cheerfully. What a change he was from Arthur.

“You’re comfortable, then?”

“Very much so. Thank you for being concerned about my comfort.” Naasir replied.

“Not at all.” Julian answered.

“Meridian will be up shortly with some tea for you both. Let me take the doctor’s boots since he has them off. I will polish them up nice and shiny. I will take yours, too, Sir. Let me fetch you your fine, soft slippers.” Naasir suggested softly, so as not to wake Robert.

Julian sat down on the bed to remove his boots.

“I will attend to that.” Naasir whispered.

“That’s not necessary.” Julian smiled.

Robert sputtered and coughed. Julian watched him to see if he’d awaken. He did not.

“Poor man.” Naasir shook his head. “He carries much burden. The weight of it makes him tired.”

“Yes,” Julian sighed.

“Your burden is greater,” Naasir continued, “Yet, you never sleep, Sir.”

“A part of me is sleeping presently.” Julian grinned weakly. “Though I can’t say for certain just for how long.”

Naasir picked up Julian’s coat which had been slung over the arm of a chair. “I will hang this, Sir, and lay out your dressing gown.”

“Thank you,”

Naasir reached into the pockets of the coat—as he had always done for Sir Louis—to make sure that nothing of importance had been overlooked. He pulled out the note which Julian had been handed that morning on the dock.

“Will you want to keep this, Great Man of the Rocks? Pardon me, I mean to say, ‘Lord Julian.’”

“Yes.” Julian said quickly, taking the folded paper from Naasir.

“It has evil on it.” Naasir’s eyes widened.

“It does.” Julian drew in a deep breath. “It’s a note from the woman who has my sister. At least, I think it’s she who gave it to me. It’s signed with her name.”

“Is the name Iolanthe Evangline?” Naasir asked.

“It is.”” Julian raised one eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“Iolanthe Evangeline is the taker of girls.” Naasir replied quietly. “She is a force.”

“You know of her?”

“I know that she is a woman of ice and violets. She is created of cold amethyst.” Naasir said. “She is the ice to Marie Laveau’s fire.”

“Marie Laveau is the voodoo priestess you mentioned when you gave me that bag.”

“The gris-gris, Sir. Yes.” Naasir nodded. “I took the liberty of placing it under your pillow when we arrived here.”

“Oh…” Julian raised his eyebrows. “Thank you.”

“It is strong stuff, but not strong enough to protect you from that crystal woman.”

“She’s dangerous, then?”

“You know they call her ‘The Elegant Ogress.’

Julian answered, “Yes.”

“She is dangerous. She challenged Marie Laveau herself. They say Marie took punishment by making Iolanthe’s skin blister each time it is touched by blood. And, so, she must wear gloves to cover the scars of her sins.”

“I don’t like the idea of my sister being in her hands.” Julian began.

“No, Sir.” Naasir said sympathetically. “You must battle her.”

“Battle her?”

“Yes, it is in the legend that ‘The Great Man of the Rocks’ will cleave the amethyst heart of the cold monster—as she has cleft his head.” Naasir explained.

Julian’s eyes closed as the familiar inkiness drowned him. Within him, Punch grumbled softly. “Me head. Me head is split.”

When his eyes opened again, he began to speak. The voice that fell from his lips was Julian’s, but the words were not. Those belonged to someone else.

“Then, battle her I must.” Punch said in Julian’s voice.

Naasir smiled.

“You find something amusing?” Punch asked, still impersonating Julian.

“It’s no use you trying to trick me, Mr. Punch.”

“Here!” Punch growled. “What do you know ‘bout it?”

“Mr. Punch,” Naasir grinned. “The light in your eyes is red where the light in Lord Julian’s is blue.”

“Think you’re pretty clever, eh, valet?” Punch powered Julian’s body to rise from the bed.

“I am not clever, Mr. Punch. I am observant.” Naasir grinned. “There is no need to deceive me. I am here to serve you as well. My loyalty is to all those who inhabit that body.”

“So, you’re loyal, what.” Punch chuckled. “Just how loyal are you, then?”

“To a fault, Mr. Punch.” Naasir bowed his head. “You may recall what I saw on the ship?”

“I do.” Punch frowned.

“Yet, I have chosen to keep that to myself so that I may protect both you and His Lordship.”

“And me chum?” Punch asked.

“And the doctor, too. Though he is suspicious of me, I will care for him also. It is my job to serve and to fulfill my destiny.”

"Good." Punch grinned.  "You like to sing?"

"I do." Naasir nodded.

"Maybe you're not so bad." Punch chuckled.

"I can show you that I am not."

“Then get me out of here without me chum knowin’.” Punch winked. “I know where to find the ‘Elegant Ogress.’ If it’s a battle she’s wantin’, I’m the one for the job.”



Did you miss chapters 1-39? If so, you can read them here.

4 comments:

Darcy said...

I'm glad to see Nassir and Mr. Punch getting along.I like them both. I hope they do sing a song together.They both also seem to trust Robert. Julian is going to need them all as he goes up against the Elegant Ogress. Great storytelling!

Dashwood said...

I too would like it if Punch and Naasir would sing together - mainly to know what they'd select.

Punch was a well-loved toy. These are given a special life by their loving children. We've all had one that was broken or stolen or lost and they all still live in our memory as clearly as they did then. Hopefully, Punch, too, will find a way to live again in his own body someday instead of in Julian's.

Joseph Crisalli said...

Thank you, Darcy. Naasir seems totally unfazed by Mr. Punch. I think, to Punch, Naasir's acceptance makes him trustworthy. I have no doubt they'll sing together.

Joseph Crisalli said...

Hello Dashwood, I think Punch would probably insist that they sing of "hard-hearted Barbry Allen." You're right about Punch. Punch, being a puppet and, in essence, a toy, reacts much as a child would react to situations. In Punch's case, he has the strength of an adult man. Sometimes the combination works against them.