“Mama,” Young Marie spat, “Can’t you sit yourself down?”
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me!” Marie snarled.
“Ain’t no good you getting’ all upset,” Young Marie sighed.
“Look at what you’re about, Girl!” Marie barked. “I think we got two reasons to be upset.”
“Who cares ‘bout the death of this scarred-face woman?” Young Marie shrugged. “Don’t know why we’re even botherin’ with her. Can’t we just dump her in the river?”
“No, Girl.” Marie snapped. “Don’t you know you gotta treat a body with respect? Only gonna bring bad spirits to the house if we don’t. Besides, we need her.”
“What good is she?” Young Marie muttered.
“Even this poor body got juju, Girl.” Marie squinted. “’Specially with your poor uncle lyin’ next to her.”
“He ain’t my uncle.” Young Marie scowled. “His brother weren’t my daddy.”
“Don’t matter!” Marie shouted. “He was as good as a father to you as if he done sired you and that makes Louis your uncle!”
“So, what we gonna do with ‘em.” Young Marie asked, stepping away from the table.
“Don’t you know nothin’?” Marie frowned. “Didn’t I just say that these poor shells got juju?”
“They ain’t got nothin’ in ‘em but blood and meat!” Young Marie shrieked. “How we gonna use ‘em for juju?”
“You just shut your mouth and finish cleanin’ ‘em up!” Marie Laveau snarled. “You’ll see what we’re gonna do soon ‘nough!”
Meanwhile, at Iolanthe’s house, Mr. Punch stood on the staircase looking up at Nanny Rittenhouse.
“Don’t you have a kind word for your old nanny, Your Grace?” Agnes Rittenhouse said with mock sheepishness.
“No.” Punch whispered.
“My heart was broken when I heard about the death of your poor mother,” Nanny Rittenhouse continued. “She was a fine woman.”
“No, she weren’t.” Mr. Punch frowned.
“I raised her myself, just as I raised you.”
“Which ‘xplains why she was so awful.” Mr. Punch replied dryly.
“How can you be so cruel, Your Grace?” The nanny responded.
“I learned at the feet of the best.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “Listen, why are you here? Ain’t you got a job workin’ for that man what’s got all them wax figures?”
“With the baby no longer in the house,” Nanny Rittenhouse said, “I was no longer needed. Mrs. Cage felt she could look after their young son, Orman, and their niece, Edolie, without my assistance. When I was fetched for Lady Barbara, I knew I should come here and help her.”
“Fetched?” Punch smirked. “You mean, commanded?” Punch took one step further up the stairs. “Don’t you know what this place is? Who these girls are?”
“It’s not the ideal situation, Your Grace.” Nanny Rittenhouse nodded. “But, Lady Barbara needs me.”
“Is that what she’s callin’ herself again? Lady Barbara?”
“Well, no, Your Grace. But, she’ll always be Lady Barbara to me.”
“She’s quite mad, isn’t she?” Charles interrupted. “Can’t you see that?”
“Quiet down, footman,” Iolanthe chuckled. “Who are you to judge who’s mad and who ain’t. Look at your own master if you wanna see madness.”
“That’s enough from you!” Charles shouted. He advanced upon the stairs, climbing up to where Mr. Punch stood. “Your Grace, Barbara needs us. We can’t just stand here talking to these women.”
“She doesn’t wish to see you,” Iolanthe called up to them.
“We’ll see about that,” Charles grunted, taking Mr. Punch by the arm and pulling him past Nanny Rittenhouse who shrieked as they brushed past her.
“This ain’t good, Charles,” Mr. Punch whispered. “That woman’s as evil as they come.”
“Which one?” Charles said with disgust.
“Well, all of ‘em.” Punch sighed.
“All the more reason to get her out of here.”
“Charles,” Mr. Punch said quickly. “I don’t think she’s gonna want to go with us.”
“She doesn’t have a choice.” Charles said. He paused and turned to look at Mr. Punch. “I know what happened here with your own mother. You gave up on her and left her here. And, what became of her? She was killed! Is that what you want for your sister, too.”
“Ain’t fair, it ain’t, bringin’ that up.” Mr. Punch frowned, looking at the floor. “Weren’t my intention for my master’s mum to die. But, if someone’s got her heart set, sometimes there ain’t nothing you can do ‘bout it.”
“You’re weak!” Charles spat.
“I ain’t.” Mr. Punch said gently. “I’m sensible. For all that’s wrong with me, at least I learned to be sensible! And, you’re one to criticize me! Where’s your own brother, then? Hmmm? Where’s your Giovanni? Didn’t you do just the same thing I did?”
“That’s right, gentlemen,” Iolanthe cooed as she joined them in the upper corridor. She was followed by the nanny. “Perhaps you should talk this over some more. There’s nothing worse than dissention between friends.”
“Stay out of this!” Charles grumbled, running down the hallway. “Which room is she in?”
Charles began opening doors—revealing strange women and men about the business of Miss Iolanthe’s house. Most didn’t even notice him.
“Where is she?” Charles barked, looking down the hallway. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed that he was alone in the hall.
Mr. Punch, Iolanthe and the Nanny were nowhere to be seen.
“Damn!” Charles spat. “They fooled me!”
Did you miss Chapters 1-313? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 315 of Punch’s Cousin.
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