Punch's Cousin, Chapter 53

Robert stopped and bent over—coughing violently. Punch paused and put his hand on Robert’s back.


“Here, Chum.” Punch said, squinting Julian’s eyes in the darkness. “Been doin’ a lotta that, you have.”

Robert straightened up and wiped his mouth, tears trickled from his eyes and he gasped for air.

“Maybe we’d better slow down, what.” Punch said softly.

“No, dear Punch, I’m quite fine now.” Robert responded raspily.

“Don’t sound like it.” Punch frowned. “Now, what with you bein’ a physician and all, you can’t be tellin’ me that you think all this coughin’ and spittin’ is right.”

Robert cleared his throat. “I assure you that I’m fine.”

“Now, I don’t know much ‘bout these things,” Punch continued, “not havin’ use of a body for too long, but seems to me that a man’s not ‘sposed to be sputterin’ quite so much as you’ve been doin’. And, you look all sorts of pale where you used to be quite hardy lookin’. Almost as pale as me master.”

“Our passage was long, and I’m tired.” Robert said slowly. “That’s all it is.”

“Don’t believe you, Chum.” Punch shook Julian’s head. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn?” Robert laughed. “I? You of all people are calling me stubborn?”

“Ain’t people.” Punch smiled. “I can be as stubborn as I want.”

“Well, then, let’s use some of your stubbornness to find Naasir. Don’t waste your time worrying about me.”

“Seems to me that that’s the way to do it.” Punch answered. “See, I’m learnin’. I’m learnin’ that it’s proper to worry ‘bout the folk what you care ‘bout. That’s one thing that I can learn from me master, see. He’s nothin’ but a big ball o’ worry. But, I can worry, too.”

“Listen,” Robert said gently. “You are learning. You’re doing splendidly. Truly. I have to confess that—though I have no right to say this—I’m proud of you. Very proud. And, I know that Julian would be proud, too.”

“Really?” Punch smiled.

“Yes.” Robert answered. “And Julian would be even prouder if we found Naasir. So, let’s do soldier forth and see what we can find—even in this accursed darkness.”

“Only ya gotta tell me, ya do. You gotta tell me if you’re feelin’ poorly. Promise?”

“I promise, Mr. Punch.” Robert nodded. “Or, should I say, Mr. Molliner?”

“Am a Molliner.” Punch sighed. “Just like me master. Just like our father. Still can’t quite believe that he’s gone.”

“It’s a difficult thing to comprehend.” Robert said throatily as they continued to walk carefully across dark fields. “Cecil and I lost both of our parents when we were quite young.”

“How?” Punch asked.

Robert didn’t answer.

“Chum?”

“It’s a very unpleasant story.” Robert mumbled.

“I know ‘bout unpleasant stories.” Mr. Punch answered. “You can tell me. I’m good at listenin’ to things and keepin’ ‘em safe in here.” The tapped Julian’s chest.

“My father was also a physician,” Robert explained. “You see, my mother became quite ill, and he stopped everything to look after her. He couldn’t keep up. Expenses kept mounting. Times being what they were, he had many debts. He was taken to gaol where he died—a debtor. They didn’t take us. They left us to fend for ourselves. So often, I’ve wished we’d have gone, too. At least we could have all been together, even if was in a Debtor’s prison. Then, at least, my father and mother could have been together. Perhaps, they could have helped each other. I wish, Mr. Punch, I wish we had all gone. However, they didn’t want my mother in there. They couldn’t be responsible for her.”

“”Sponsible how? What was her illness?”

“She was mad, Mr. Punch. That’s what they called it, at least. Madness. It wasn’t madness as much as it was sorrow. A terrible, gnawing sorrow that ultimately killed her.”

“Here.” Punch whispered. “Sorry.”

“It’s no use being sorry now, dear Punch. It’s long in the past.” Robert said, momentarily stumbling on the uneven terrain.

“Still sorry, I am.” Punch shook Julian’s head. “What did ya do, you and Cecil?”

“We lived with my aunt and uncle.”

“I’m an uncle.” Punch said proudly.

“Yes, you are, and a fine one.”

“Were they good to ya? Yer aunt and uncle?” Punch asked.

“Not especially, no.” Robert answered softly.

“Huh.” Punch grunted. “Now I understand.”

“What?”

“Why you’re so kind to me and me master.” Punch answered.

“That’s part of it at any rate.” Robert smiled. He looked to the sky. “I do wish we had some moonlight—anything to cut this blackness.”

“Can’t tell where we are.” Punch squinted. “Smells sweet.”

“That’s the sugar cane.” Robert said. “I suspect we’re on the land of the neighboring plantation. Fantanals, I think is the name.”

“Sounds right.” Punch responded. “Chum, what’s that?” Mr. Punch pointed Julian’s finger toward the horizon. “Light?”

“Some kind of building. I see torches.” Robert said, grabbing Julian’s arm. “Come on, then.”

As they got closer, Punch growled, “Coo, what is that place? Don’t look like no farm.”

“No.” Robert whispered. “It’s certainly not an agricultural building.”

As quietly as they could, they approached the structure. A faint light flickered in the windows.

“What’s this?” Punch whispered as he strained to see inside. “Full a people, it is. Only they ain’t movin’.”

“Those aren’t people,” Robert said. “They’re statues.”

Suddenly, Punch screamed as a shot rang out! Robert stumbled backwards.

“You’ve got half a minute to tell me why you’re on my property before I shoot you both in the face!” An angry man bellowed.



Did you miss chapters 1-52? If so, you can read them here.