Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 433

Big Ollie lived up to his name. Everything about the man was large from his size to his smell. Barbara Allen wondered what was wrong with him. Surely he had some sort of infirmity like the sad, freakish man that she had once seen at the Fallbridge Summer Festival. She recalled shrieking when she saw that poor creature in the ruddy tent that warm day ten years earlier. Violet, the maid who had snuck young Lady Barbara from Fallbridge Hall that afternoon, made Barbara promise not to tell the Duchess that they’d visited the freak show.

Barbara studied Big Ollie as he lumbered throughout the backroom of his cluttered, dusty shop. His cranium was enormous—truly, hideously enormous—with a jaw that was so large it appeared to roll up at the sides in a bony ridge that looked at once hard and soft—like a blanket crammed into a too-full trunk. This thick ridge met his meaty neck sharply, dissolving into a carpet of bright red blemishes and beige hair that looked as sharp as a leather punch.

The man’s body was equally queer. His legs were bent in a peculiar manner, and strangely short given his immense height. So, where did the height come from? His enormous feet which curled up at the ends like a jester’s shoes? No. His trunk—massive and thick and hanging with loose pendulous meat was nearly three times the size of that of a normal man. Barbara glanced quickly at Charles who sat nervously at her side and then returned her gaze to Big Ollie—comparing the sizes of the two men.

“So,” Big Ollie roared. “You say you got this all legal-like.” He held the monumental, shimmering blue diamond between his thumb and middle finger. This was because, for some reason unknown to Barbara (and one she didn’t wish to discover) his index finger was missing. In his bizarre hand—as big as a loaf of bread and shaped as such—the diamond looked quite small.

“I did,” Barbara nodded.

“You didn’t steal it?” Ollie grunted. “I don’t trade in stolen goods.”

Charles coughed, looking around the dilapidated shop which, despite its apparent disrepair, was filled to the rafters with items which clearly had come from the finest homes and families.

“I got all this legal.” Ollie snapped, catching Charles expression.

“I have no doubt.” Charles nodded.

“How ‘bout you tell me how ya got it, then?” Ollie snarled.

“I’ve already told you.” Barbara replied calmly.

“Tell me again!”

“I am Barbara, Lady Fallbridge. This stone was part of a collection amassed by my late father, Sir Colin Molliner. Upon his death, the stone came to me.”

“And, here you sit, dressed in rags, dirt on your pretty face and you tell me you’re a fine English lady?” Ollie laughed his gargantuan body rippling so much that the shop seemed to sway.

“I’ve fallen on hard times. What do few realize is that titled people very often suffer from monetary…troubles.”

“So, you come to New Orleans? To do what?”

“I came here to seek my fortune so that I might return to Fallbridge Hall one day and resume my rightful position.” Barbara lied.

“Is that so?” Ollie smiled.

“Yes.” Barbara nodded.

“What of your brother?” Ollie grinned broadly, the ridge of his jaw grating against the piles of blemishes on his neck.

“My brother?” Barbara asked, trying not to show her hand.

“Come on, whore.” Ollie roared again. “I know who you are. All of New Orleans is abuzz with the tales of the mad Duke of Fallbridge. The fool thinks he’s a puppet! And your lady mother was killed here by Iolanthe Evangeline—your former employer. You come here, you loose harlot with your lies and expect big Ollie to give you my gold for this stone that you stole! I know you stole it! And, I know this ain’t the first time. You little bitch, don’t ever try to fool Big Ollie! I already seen this stone once! You know a fair flame-haired witch name of Ulrika?”

Ollie waited for Barbara’s response.

“I know you do!” Big Ollie spat. “So, you maybe want to tell Big Ollie the truth?”

“Come, Barbara,” Charles rose bravely. “We need not suffer this brute.” He turned to Ollie. “Please, hand over our property.”

Without even moving his trunk, Ollie extended one loaf of a hand and pushed Charles back into his chair.

“Nobody’s goin’ nowhere. Not ‘til Big Ollie’s satisfied.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-432? If so, you can read them here.