Punch's Cousin, Chapter 166

Naasir shuddered slightly as he raised his arms to place his ruined hands on Julian’s chest.


“Are you in terrible pain?” Cecil asked.

“Yes,” Naasir whispered.

“You’re a brave man, Honey.” Marjani smiled. “You’re good to do this.”

“It’s my duty,” Naasir rasped.

Little Fuller squirmed next to Julian’s overheated body, reaching with his tiny hands towards the man with whom he’d played on many occasions.

“No, no, little one,” Adrienne cooed. “Uncle Punch can’t play today. Just be still.”

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Cecil whispered into his wife’s ear. “Julian’s raging with fever.”

“I trust Marjani.” Adrienne answered.

“Not to worry,” Marjani smiled. “The little fella’s safe. He won’t be here long.”

“Help me,” Naasir croaked to Marjani.

“Anything.” Marjani nodded.

“The bag.” Naasir said.

Marjani took a red pouch from the pocket of her apron.

“Place it beneath His Grace’s pillow.” Naasir said softly.

Marjani did as Naasir told her.

Robert and Cecil glanced at one another.

“My dears,” Adrienne said quickly. “We must believe.”

Robert nodded.

“Now, all of you,” Marjani said. “Join hands, please.” She offered her hand to Robert who took it. Robert and Adrienne joined hands, and Adrienne and Cecil.

With his burned hands still on Julian’s chest, Naasir began moaning.

“Good Lord,” Cecil declared loudly. “The man’s clearly in agony.”

“No.” Marjani shook her head. “Not the kind you’re thinkin’.”

Naasir took a deep breath and suddenly began to speak in a low, strong voice which none of them would have thought possible given his condition.

“All the elements,” Naasir said firmly and loudly, “all the powers of the land—air, fire, water, ice—gather ‘round these souls. Rain and sun, ocean and sand, hear my voice and listen.” He looked to Marjani.

“All the angels and saints,” Marjani began, “The Holy Mother, and God himself, listen to his voice.”

“Before you,” Naasir continued, “lie three souls and two bodies, one fresh and new, one tattered and broken. Look upon this child with his pure heart and happy spirit.”

Cecil looked nervously at his wife, and squeezed her hand anxiously.

“It’ll be all right,” Adrienne said certainly.

“Restore the broken to the whole.” Naasir continued, his voice still strangely powerful. “From the dirt of the grave, draw your power to make the living strong. Make this weak man as strong as this hearty babe.”

Fuller began to giggle in the delightful way that only a baby can.

“He’s filled with joy—overflowing with love. Make that love grow. From darkness, make that love grow and rise to the air to form a cloud.”

“From dirt and darkness, let this warmth make a bloom,” Marjani added.

“Now…” Naasir said to Marjani.

Marjani released Robert’s hand and removed a vial of oil from the pocket of her apron. She removed the cork, and wet her thumb with the oil. She swiped an oily streak across Julian’s sweating brow and then across the cool, smooth forehead of the baby.

“Make them equal in strength,” Marjani said softly.

“Make them equal in strength.” Naasir repeated.

“Everyone…” Marjani nodded.

“Make them equal in strength…” Robert, Cecil and Adrienne said in unison.

Far removed from them, yet so nearby, deep within their fevered body, Mr. Punch and Julian listened to the scene which unfolded outside of them.

“Try, Mr. Punch.” Julian said quickly. “Try to speak.”

Mr. Punch shouted. “We’re here!”

Just then, in the room with their loved ones, Julian’s parched lips parted. “We’re here,” their body groaned weakly.

“Thank God,” Robert sighed. “Thank the universe.”

It was then that Robert noticed that Naasir had slumped over in the chair—clearly lifeless.



Did you miss Chapters 1-165? If so, you can read them here.