“You hit Mala with a lamp?” Iolanthe laughed.
“She ain’t dead or nothin’, says Barbara anyway.” Mr. Punch added defensively, straining under the weight of the Duchess in his arms.
“So, my little English rose, Barbara Allen, has been helping you?” Iolanthe asked, her eyes wild.
“Don’t ‘spose you could call her a rose. More like a briar. And, she ain’t been so much help neither.”
“I tried to stop him, Miss Iolanthe,” Barbara lied.
Mr. Punch rolled Julian’s eyes. “See. Now, come on, Iolanthe and let me pass. This woman ain’t so very light. Her dress alone’s gotta weigh two stone. How you women can stand to wear all this foolishness is beyond me. Seems to me that…”
“Silence!” Iolanthe snapped. “You’re a thief is what you are. You’ve come into my home and stolen from me. I don’t take kindly to thieves!”
“Can’t steal a person,” Mr. Punch grunted. “See, that’s where your thinkin’ is all wrong. You got this notion what people are things what you can trade. People are people, they are. They’re their own creatures what’s got minds and souls. You can’t trade them like you would paintin’s or bowls or even puppets. I ain’t stealin’ nothin’. I’m helpin’ this lady what gave birth to Barbara and to me body. She may not be no prize, she’s not, but she’s a person.”
The Duchess moaned. “Julian, do be quiet.”
“Here, you want me to put you down?” Mr. Punch growled.
Mala came staggering toward the doorway, rubbing her head. “He hit me!” She screamed.
“See, I didn’t kill her.” Mr. Punch smiled. He looked over his shoulder at Mala. “Listen, ugly girl, sorry for hittin’ ya, but, come on, when you go ‘round sneakin’ up on a bloke, what’s he gonna do? You’re gonna get yourself smacked with somethin’, you are. Can’t go ‘round grabbin’ at a fella from behind. Only gonna make him angry. ‘Specially when he’s doin’ somethin’.”
“Barbara, take Mala downstairs and see that she’s not badly injured.” Iolanthe growled. “Leave me with your brother.”
Barbara looked at Mr. Punch and then to her mother.
“Barbara,” Iolanthe hissed.
“Yes, Miss Iolanthe.” Barbara said, grabbing Mala by the hand and slipping past Punch, the Duchess and Iolanthe.
“Good riddance, I say.” Mr. Punch mumbled. “Now, I mean it, Ogress, this woman ain’t so light. I gotta get by. So, stop belchin’ your vague threats and let me pass.”
“You think my threats are vague?” Iolanthe snapped. “I don’t want you thinkin’ that they are. Is this more specific? I’m going to kill you.”
“No, you ain’t.” Mr. Punch shook his head. He pushed Iolanthe away, using the Duchess as a shield.
Iolanthe lunged forward, toppling Mr. Punch. He fell to the ground, the Duchess landing on top of him with a grunt. Punch rolled the Duchess over and stood up, offering his hand to her to help her to her feet.
“Julian, I can’t.” The Duchess moaned from the floor.
“Sure you can.” Punch muttered.
The Duchess took Punch’s hand and stood up, shakily.
“Good.” Punch sighed. “Now, we can walk out. Listen, if you could stand before, why’d you let me carry you?”
“You fool!” The Duchess growled. “Can’t you see I’m weak? You have always been such an idiot!”
Iolanthe saw that Punch’s attention was diverted and shoved Mr. Punch against the wall, pinning him to it.
He shook his head. “Now, you ain’t bein’ very kind.”
“It isn’t my business to be kind.” Iolanthe growled.
Punch pushed Iolanthe away. “You’re strong, you are. I’ll give ya that.” He looked at Pauline. “Come, Your Grace, let’s get goin’.”
“My things, Julian. I need my things.” The Duchess moaned.
“Your things?” Mr. Punch snorted. “You can get new things. Come on.”
“I need my things.” The Duchess wailed. “You imbecile, I need my things!”
“You gotta maid, don’t ya?” Punch grunted.
“I sent her to a hotel.” The Duchess said weakly.
“Well, then, we’ll have her come back for your luggage. Cripes! And folk say I’m crazy.”
Iolanthe lunged toward Mr. Punch again, but Punch stepped aside. Iolanthe hit the wall and shrieked.
“Here, I don’t understand. What you want her for anyway? What good can this woman be to ya?”
“I need her.” Iolanthe shouted.
“Like you needed Naasir?” Mr. Punch asked.
“Do you know what it’s like to be stolen from?” Iolanthe groaned.
“Yes, I do.” Mr. Punch nodded. “But, nobody knows more ‘bout bein’ stolen from than me master. And, I ain’t talkin’ bout no blue diamond nor even when me own puppet-self were stolen from him. I’m talkin’ ‘bout when your life is stolen from ya. That’s why I’m here tryin’ to get this woman outta here. Don’t seem fair to let anyone have their life stolen.”
“Stop talking! Julian, get my things,” The Duchess said, stumbling forward and catching herself against the wall of the corridor.
“Still?” Mr. Punch mumbled. “Still goin’ on ‘bout your luggage? Now, I gotta say, I been more than reasonable ‘bout all o’ this. Seems to me you…” He paused and looked at the two women who stared at him—The Duchess and Iolanthe.
Mr. Punch frowned. “Damn.”
“Julian,” The Duchess croaked. “Help me, you simpleton!”
“What am I doin’?” Mr. Punch muttered. “The lot of ya…you all want to be miserable, don’t ya?” He sighed. “You want to be miserable and you want to make everyone else miserable. And, there ain’t nothin’ I can do to stop ya. Not alone anyway. Can’t help folk what don’t want to be helped.”
Iolanthe clenched her fists together.
“Listen, I came back in here with kindness in me heart. But, it’s kindness what’s wasted, it is. I can’t do nothin’ here. You…” He looked at Iolanthe. “You’re angry ‘bout somethin’ and you want everything in the world what you can’t have to try to fill yourself up to make the anger go ‘way. You want to hurt everyone and everything, you do.” He then looked to the Duchess. “And, you, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, I don’t. You have everything and yet it ain’t enough. So, you do all you can to make sure folk suffer. Maybe it’s cuz you had too much. Ain’t no amount o’ kindness what’ll help either one of ya. I gotta take care of me-self, I do. No sense hurtin’ me-self tryin’ to help folk what don’t want it.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“What are you saying?” The Duchess moaned.
“I’m leavin’, I am.” Mr. Punch grunted. “I’m goin’ back to me family. You two deserve one another. Don’t worry, Ogress, I won’t be stealin’ from you today. So, do what you might. I know you’ll come back at us. I know your rage ain’t gonna be stopped—not by me alone. So, do what you will. We’ll be ready for ya. As for you, Your Grace, you’re your own thing. You got freedom. It’s your place to remember it.”
Mr. Punch turned his back and started down the corridor.
“Julian!” The Duchess shouted. “Come back here at once and get my things. You must help me from this place!”
Mr. Punch kept walking.
“Julian!” Pauline screamed.
Punch paused and looked over his shoulder. “We’ll be ready for ya.” He said plainly. “We will. But, just know, the next time either of you comes knockin’ on my door, will be your last. Duchess, I could take you from here, but in your heart, you’ll still be wicked. So, why try? And, as for you, Ogress, ain’t nothin’ what’s gonna save you from yourself. All the good intentions in the world ain’t gonna change a thing. So, I gotta protect what’s real.”
“Stop this at once!” The Duchess bellowed as Iolanthe laughed maniacally.
Punch turned around. “I came to this land with me master in search of Barbara—to return her to her home, to her inheritance, to her life. Along the way, I found that she’d stolen somethin’ precious from me. I wanted it back. Still, do, I ‘spose. And, if I get it back, I’ll rejoice, I will. But, along the way, I discovered more than I thought. I found out that there’s more to life than diamonds and pride. There’s love and honor. So, now I’m fightin’ a bigger battle. I ain’t fightin’ to get Barbara home. She don’t want to go home! I ain’t fightin’ to get me master’s diamond back. I ain’t even fightin’ for revenge at what all of ya done to me. I’m fightin’ to protect what’s real and important. Me chums—that little baby what thinks I’m his uncle. Me sweet doggy what loves me cuz I pet him and give him sausages and what don’t care if I’m different than everyone else. See, I know love. And, me master should, too. I’m fightin’ for me master’s life. I’m fightin’ for Robert what’s been so kind to me and what looks at me like I’m a real man. I’m fightin’ for freedom so that folk like Marjani can have the same blessings what others got. I’ll fight ya! But, I’ll do it with honor and goodness in me heart. I won’t soil myself with your dirty ways. So, both of you can try to stop me. And, in doin’ so, you may hurt me. But, you won’t win. Cleave me head from me body, rip me open and spill me guts, but you won’t win—not where it’s important. I leave you to yourselves! Draw your swords, fire your pistols, but we’re ready for ya!”
“Julian, I’m your mother! You fool!” The Duchess pleaded.
“Collect your things and go to Blazes!” Mr. Punch spat as he walked down the stairs.
Iolanthe laughed. “I win.”
The Duchess sank against the wall, slowly slipping to the floor. “Do you?”
“He’s weak, your son. He’s a mad weakling! Once again, I am triumphant. And, I shall have what I desire. My own son will thrive. I won’t be stopped. And, you, your Murderous Grace, you will be my greatest assistant. We’ll have everything. Can’t you see? I win!”
The Duchess groaned. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-125? If so, you can read them here.
No comments:
Post a Comment