Punch's Cousin, Chapter 67

A cold wind howled along the balconies of the Rittenhouse Mansion. Mr. Punch sat—cross-legged—on the floor in front of the fireplace in the room where Robert had been allowed to stay. He played with the laces of his boots as he muttered to himself—his back to the fire. He watched as Marjani placed a damp flannel on Robert’s forehead. Robert wheezed in his sleep.


Marjani smiled and turned to Mr. Punch. “Whatchoo chatterin’ ‘bout over there, Sir?” She whispered.

Mr. Punch shrugged Julian’s shoulders. “Dunno. Just chatterin’, I ‘spose. Is me chum well yet?”

“Not yet, Sir.” Marjani walked over to the fire and sat in a chair near to Mr. Punch. “Gotta give it time.”

“Huh.” Mr. Punch grunted. “I ‘preciate you helpin’ us, I do.”

“Happy to help nice folk, Sir.” Marjani nodded. “Sir, what should I call you?”

“Come again?” Mr. Punch asked.

“You ain’t His Lordship. What name should I call you? I heard Mr. and Mrs. Halifax call you ‘Mr. Punch’ before they done left for their own house. That what I should call you?”

“That’s what they call me.” Punch nodded. “’Spose you can call me whatever you like. Not sure if me given name is Punch or not. Think it is. Like me master’s, me surname is Molliner. You can just call me ‘Punch.’”

“I think it’s more fittin’ for to call you ‘Mr. Punch.’” Marjani smiled.

“Why?” Punch asked.

“Cuz, it’s my place to call you Mister.” Marjani answered plainly. “So that’s what I’m gonna call you when you are not His Lordship.”

“You know the difference, do you? You can tell when it’s me and when it’s me master?”

“Ain’t powerful hard,” Marjani laughed.

“No, guess not.” Mr. Punch shrugged, muttering to himself again.

“Somethin’ troublin’ you?” Marjani asked.

“All sorts a things, Marjani.” Punch grunted.

“Can I help?” Marjani asked.

“Dunno. Already helpin’, you are. Helpin’ me chum what’s sick. That’s a big part o’ what’s weighin’ on me. Only, there’s more. That maid what’s here—that Barbara Allen. She ain’t what she seems to be. She done some awful things, she did. What’s more, she’s me master’s sister. ‘Spose she’s me sister, too. Dunno. Then, we got this other woman what’s makin’ trouble. This Iolanthe Evangeline.”

“Oh,” Marjani said. “I know all ‘bout her. She’s a terror, that one.”

“Sure is.” Mr. Punch said. “Don’t know what to do. See, we came here to get me master’s sister and take her home. Only that Evangeline woman got to her first. Then, there’s the other thing—the thing what’s been taken from me. And…” Mr. Punch sighed. “Everything’s just rotten. Rubbish. ‘Spose I’m bein’ punished for the thing what I done.”

“Punished?” Marjani asked. “A nice fella like you?”

“Not so nice.” Mr. Punch grunted. “Killed a fella, I did. Just did what I thought was the right thing only now I’m sure it ain’t the right thing. That lady what we prayed to—that holy lady. Does she watch us? Is she somewhere watchin’ what we do and judgin’ us?”

Marjani smiled. “The Holy Mother does watch us, Mr. Punch. God watches us. But, he understands. He knows if we done somethin’ bad, but he knows the reasons for why we done it.”

“Had good reasons, I did.” Mr. Punch sighed. “Thought I did.”

“I’m sure you did,” Marjani said.

“Just wanted to protect me chums.”

“That’s a good reason.” Marjani nodded.

“Only why do I feel so sick inside ‘bout it, then?”

“Cuz, Mr. Punch, you got what folk call a conscience.” Marjani said softly.

“Never had such a thing before.” Mr. Punch grumbled.

“Happens when you’re a person.” Marjani said.

“Then why do people do awful things like the things what Barbara did? You know what she did? She stole. She stole somethin’ valuable. But, what’s worse is she’s tradin’ people’s lives like they was just things.”

“There’s nothin’ worse than that.” Marjani frowned.

“What’s more, she tore up me body.” Mr. Punch mumbled. “Not this one, mind. But, the one I had before. Me other body. Now, I don’t have it no more and…”

“Mr. Punch, when I was a little one, my mama done tol’ me ‘bout ‘The Great Man of the Rocks.’”

“Here! That’s me.” Mr. Punch’s eyes widened. “I know it is. Me and me master, it is. Naasir told me the same thing.”

“Did he tell you ‘bout the legend?”

“Not so much.” Mr. Punch shrugged.

“Well, I’ll do it just now, if you like.” Marjani said.

“If you would.” Punch nodded.

“The Great Man of the Rocks was two men in one. One soft, one hard. Together, they had to do a battle against some awful creatures. The Great Man was to come to the marshes from a faraway land and with him he would bring two princes—one dark, one light. Each o’ those princes done had his own battles for to fight. They’d fight together and they’d fight on their own, but when you put the three o’ them together, they would stop the terrible ones from takin’ over the land. The Great Man would have a burden, but that burden would be false. He’d have to fight the same fight over again only the second time he done it, he’d have to be stronger.”

“What happens at the end of it all?”

“That’s not written yet.” Marjani sighed. “What’s written is that along the way, The Great Man and the two princes would meet folk—good folk and bad folk. An army of folk who don’t know that they got power. A man who calls himself a learned man, but isn’t. An angel woman. A demon woman. A man who done rose from the dead. A man of constant manner. A family of fire and a family of ice. And, worst of all, the Devil himself in pleasing form.”

“Coo.” Mr. Punch mumbled.

“I got a part in the legend, too, Mr. Punch.” Marjani said. “I’m part of that army.”

Robert coughed and shook in his bed.

Marjani got up and went to his side. “Sweated through his night clothes again. Ought to change them. Want me to do it, or should I call for your man?”

“Where is Naasir?” Mr. Punch asked.

“Gone to bring a tray for you, I think.” Marjani answered.

Mr. Punch squinted Julian’s eyes. “There’s rules, ain’t there. Rules ‘bout what’s proper for a lady to see.”

“Oh, Mr. Punch,” Marjani laughed. “I ain’t no lady. Dr. Halifax aint’ got nothin’ that I ain’t seen a hundred times.”

Mr. Punch laughed. “All very odd, these bodies.”

“Sure is.” Marjani chuckled.

“Still, we’d best wait for Naasir. To me, you’re a lady even if you don’t think so.”

Marjani smiled. “You’re a kind man, Mr. Punch.”

“I learned a little from me master.” Mr. Punch said, looking to the floor.

At that very moment, Naasir was carrying a tray across the expanse of courtyard between the kitchen and the main house. He paused near a bubbling fountain and sniffed the air.

“Brother?” Naasir whispered. “I know you’re here.”

“Naasir!” a man’s voice said excitedly from behind a row of shrubs.

“Cephas.” Naasir grinned broadly as his brother emerged, followed by a stunning young woman. “And this is Hannah, your bride?”

“Sure is!” Cephas said proudly.

“Hush yourself, Cephas,” Hannah said. “We don’t want the overseer to hear, do we? Had to sneak off Mr. Fontanals’ place. But, Cephas heard you was here and jus’ had to see you.” She smiled. “I’m Hannah.”

“I’m pleased to meet you. You are a credit to our family.” Naasir grinned.

“They call us Watkins.” Cephas said. “Give us a name and all. I’m Cephas Watkins now.”

Naasir frowned. “Everything here must have a name, I suppose.”

“Listen to yer brother talk, Cephas.” Hannah giggled. “Talks like a right fine gentleman.”

“He done been in service with English fellas.” Cephas said. “But, not no more. You’re gonna come with us and work over ta Mr. Fontanals’. Then, you can call yerself Watkins, too and we can be a family. Can get ya a wife and all.”

“I cannot,” Naasir answered. “I am employed by his Lordship. Nor would I wish to toil in the fields.”

“Too good for man’s work?” Cephas grimaced. “Think you’re better’n me? Don’t go thinkin’ you’re free, Naasir.”

“My destiny, Cephas.” Naasir said proudly.

“Your destiny is ta cut the cane with yer brother.” Cephas spat.

“What you sayin’?” Hannah whispered. “Where’d you get that foolishness?”

“I got my orders, woman. This don’t concern you.” Cephas spat. “I’m to bring my brother back with us.”

“Who done tol’ you that?” Hannah put her hands on her hips.

“A right nice man said that if I brought you to Mr. Fontanals, he’d done give us…” Cephas stopped.

“You’ve traded me?” Naasir asked, wide-eyed. “My own brother…”

“Now, I don’t see where you got no choice, Brother.” Cephas grinned.



Did you miss Chapters 1-66? If so, you can read them here.