“I don’t understand,” Julian responded, staring at his other-half across the imaginary room inside of themselves.
“Don’t you remember?” Mr. Punch asked.
“No, Punch. You’ve done a very fine job of making sure that I don’t remember.” Julian said gently.
“You know the rough spot on your back?” Punch asked.
“No.” Julian squinted. “Well, I suppose I do. I’m not in the habit of looking at my back. That’s rather a difficult task.”
“Well, you know how when you’re taking a bath and you scratch your back, there’s what feels like a rough spot between your shoulders?” Mr. Punch asked. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice it were there.”
“I have.” Julian shrugged.
“Didn’t you never think nothin’ of it?” Punch continued.
“Not especially.” Julian said.
“Good.” Punch nodded. “Then, I done my job well, I did.”
“I’d say.” Julian smiled. “So, what about the rough patch?”
“That’s just one of the scars.” Punch whispered.
“Scars?” Julian raised his eyebrows.
“If you were to look at it—close-like, you’d see it once said somethin’.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following you.”
“Don’t you remember at all?” Punch screamed, becoming frustrated. “Don’t you remember the cuttin’, and how she laughed—that Nanny, Agnes? Don’t you remember the pain? The bleedin’?”
Inside that room that only Punch and Julian knew about—the room that only they could see—Julian’s spirit began to shake. “I don’t understand.”
“You ain’t ready.” Mr. Punch whispered to his other half. “You ain’t ready.”
“No.” Julian shook his head. “I’m not.”
“Sorry I hollered at ya, Master.” Punch continued to whisper.
“No need,” Julian sighed. “I’m sorry I pressured you.”
“Funny, us ‘pologizin’ to each other.” Mr. Punch smiled. “We ain’t the one’s what done nothin’ to…us. If that makes any sense.”
“It does to me.” Julian nodded.
“Here,” Mr. Punch frowned. “When’d the room go all red?”
“I’m not sure,” Julian responded, looking around. Their “room” which had been a warm bronze had turned to crimson around them, and was growing increasingly hot.
“Somethin’s wrong.” Mr. Punch squinted.
“I think so.” Julian nodded.
“Listen,” Punch said, straining to hear.
“I don’t hear anything except the faint beating of a drum.” Julian answered after a moment.
“That ain’t no drum. That’s our heart. But, under that…don’t ya hear? It’s our chum!”
Julian listened. He could, indeed, hear Robert faintly calling his name. And, then, pleading for Mr. Punch to come out.
“I think you’d better answer him.” Julian said.
“I’m tryin’.” Mr. Punch scowled. “But, somehow I can’t.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Julian asked.
“I can’t make our lips move. I can’t seem to break through the redness.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-160? If so, you can read them here.
2 comments:
Whatever did that monster Nannie do?
Still hoping that the fever isn't from Yellow Jack.
They've got a long road ahead, but often the longest journeys are the most rewarding. Thanks for reading, Dashwood!
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