A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 104

Chapter 104
Echoes


At first it sounded, to Lennie, like the echo of water dripping into a deep, cold well.  Not the sound itself, but, just the echo--and even then, only the faintest repetition of it, the very end of the vibration.

The sound repeated, slightly magnified.  It tickled Lennie's ears.  If she had ears...

She wasn't sure if she had ears--wherever she was, whatever she had become.  Nonetheless, it tickled.  Of that she was sure.  The sensation wasn't annoying--not like the buzz of an insect in one's ear during an otherwise pleasant picnic.  No, it was comforting, like feeling the whiskers of a beloved dog snuffling for you to awaken in the morning.

Still, Lennie was hesitant to trust it.  Whatever the sound was, it was likely more of her mother's trickery.  

Lennie could not be sure how long she'd been there--wherever it was--in that static grayness, that limbo which stripped her from her body, from her life.  All she knew was that the only other...other...

Person?

No.  She wasn't a person.

The only other thing in that strange, misty inertia was her mother, the Duchess.  So, Lennie concluded, if another sound could be heard, it had to have been made by that specter of Pauline, by that glowing, hissing mask that had taunted her so.

Yet, there it was again--that sound.  That time, it was louder and clearer, and Lennie could tell that it was a voice, or, at least the vibrations of a voice.

"Mmmmm..."  It hummed.

"What's out there?"  Lennie responded.  As she did, she became aware that, she was becoming more like the image of her mother--a rigid face of plaster from which the words bounced.

"Mmmmm..."  The sound repeated.

"Who are you?"  Lennie shouted through unmoving lips.

"Mmmissssss..."

"Identify yourself."  Lennie demanded.

"Miss Lennie?"

"Gamilla?"  Lennie cried out.  "Gamilla?  Could it be you?"

"Miss Lennie!"  Gamilla's voice was clear this time.

Lennie wished she could move so that she could look around.  "Where are you?"

Before Gamilla could answer, Lennie began to see her friend's outline form in radiant silver, like a light pencil sketch illuminated by the sun.  The lines of Gamilla's face became crisper--her high cheekbones, wide eyes, gentle brow, full lips and small chin appeared as if being traced by an unseen hand.

"Can it be you?"  Lennie called out.

"It is I, Miss."  Gamilla replied.

"How?  How did you find me?  Where I am?"  Lennie cried.

"You're on the other side, Miss.  I come to bring ya back."  

"Can you?"  Lennie asked.

"I can."  Gamilla answered, her features becoming even sharper.  "Think, Miss Lennie...think of the color red."

"Red?"

"Imagine a red ribbon.  Think of it comin' straight outta your eyes.  Can ya picture it?"

"Yes!"  Lennie replied.

"Now..."  Gamilla smiled.  "From me, I am sendin' a blue ribbon.  Can ya see it?"

Lennie thought and concentrated.  "I...I think.  Yes.  Yes, I can!"

"The red ribbon and blue ribbon will tie in a knot between us...it will make a purple ribbon to link us together."

"Yes, yes, I can picture it."  Lennie cried out with relief.

"Behind me," Gamilla continued, "you will see a square of light.  I'm gonna pull ya to it."

"There it is!"  Lennie answered as she saw what appeared to be almost a sunlit window open behind Gamilla.

"Can ya feel the ribbon pullin' ya toward me?"  Gamilla asked.

"The light is growing brighter, I can feel that I'm...I'm moving."  

Then, as quickly as it started, the feeling of movement stopped. 

The window of light blinked shut, like an eye into which a speck of dust has blown.

"What's happening?"  Lennie asked.  "Where did it go?  Gamilla?"

"I'm here, Miss."  Gamilla replied calmly.  "You can still see me."

"Oh...I can."  Lennie answered.  "What's happened?"

"The chain,"  Gamilla replied honestly, 'has been broken."


Did you miss Chapters 1-103 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 105.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 104

Chapter 104: 

Gamilla 

Clad in dressing gowns over their nightshirts, Punch and Robert followed Charles downstairs to the Servants’ Hall. There, Mrs. North and Mr. Speaight were organizing a search party in the hope of finding Gamilla.

Upon seeing the masters, the entire staff rose from the seats.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. North paused, nodding in the direction of Mr. Punch. “Dr. Halifax.”

“Carry on,” Mr. Punch nodded, speaking as Julian.

“Your Grace, not to worry, we’re going to find Gamilla,” Speaight said formally. “We will be searching the estate.”

“Ach. You needn’t worry ‘bout a thin’, Your Grace. We’ll find the wee African lass.” Mrs. North interrupted.

Gerard hurried from his spot—his eyes red and swollen from crying—and went to Punch and Dr. Halifax.

“Sirs…” He rasped, his voice quavering. “Please…”

Mr. Punch put his hand on Gerard’s shoulder and whispered in his own voice, “Don’t ya worry, Gerry. She’s jus’ fine, she is.”

“But…” Gerard trembled, his eyes filling with tears again. “I…if anything…”

“Have I ever lied to ya, Gerry?” Punch asked so quietly that Gerard could barely hear him.

“No, Sir.” Gerard responded softly.

“Well, then, know that our Gamilla is going to be back at your side.”

“Yes, Sir.” Gerard nodded slowly.

Speaight spoke up. “Your Grace, Dr. Halifax, when was the last you saw of Gamilla?”

“Last night,” Robert began, “I spoke to Gamilla and suggested that she take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t mention the argument that he’d seen between Gamilla and Gerard nor that he had told the girl to find Gerard in the courtyard and work it out.

“We’ll start there, Sir.” Speaight nodded.

“I’ve already looked there,” Gerard shook his head.

“We’ll look again.” Speaight sighed.

“I don’t know where we should start…” Gerard began. “The estate is so huge, she…” He paused when he heard a commotion coming toward them.

“Mr. Speaight!” Violet screamed as she ran into the hall. “Mr. Speaight!”

“What is it, girl?” Speaight asked.

“I found Gamilla!”

Robert, Punch, Speaight and Gerard sprung to attention and followed Violet out of the Servants’ Hall.

“She’s here, Sirs.” Violet said in a shaky voice.

In a small nook between the wine cellars and the silver vaults—several steps down from the main servants’ hall—Gamilla was sprawled out on the cold stone floor, her black gown spread out into a fan shape around her. She lay—face down—with one arm extended above her head as if she was reaching for something. The alcove was dark, but even in the dim light, Punch could see that Gamilla had been reaching for a stoneware beaker which had been placed several inches above her head.

Gerard rushed to her side. “Gamilla, my darling.” He shook her gently

“Gerard,” Robert said softly.

“Why won’t she wake up, Doctor?” Gerard sobbed.

Robert looked at Mr. Punch. Punch stepped forward and reached gently for Gerard, pulling the man away from Gamilla.

“Violet,” Robert said quickly, “Please go and get me a bowl of warm water and some flannels.”

“Yes, Doctor Halifax.” Violet responded, hurrying out.

Seeing that he was alone with people who knew of his true nature, Mr. Punch felt free to speak as himself. “Gerry, let Dr. Halifax look at her. He’ll help her, he will.”

“Why ain’t she openin’ her eyes, Sir?” Gerard choked.

“Dunno, but Dr. Halfiax is gonna help her.”

“Punch,” Robert looked up. “The beaker there…” He pointed. “What’s in it?”

Mr. Punch walked over and picked up the beaker, sniffing it. He wrinkled his nose. “Chum…”

“Is it?” Robert asked.

Mr. Punch nodded. “It’s whiskey.”

“Whiskey?” Gerard raised his eyebrows. “But, Gamilla don’t…”

Mr. Punch shook his head.

“She’s not hurt,” Robert sighed. “She’s drunk.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-103? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 105 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 104

“Ulrika,” Carling Rittenhouse said in a warning tone, “Don’t test my patience.”

“Don’t test mine, Mother.” Ulrika growled. “You’ll force me to do something that I don’t wish to do.”

“Such as?” Carling raised her eyebrows.

“Do you really want me to visit with Corliss Cage when I arrive in New Orleans and tell her all that I’ve seen?” Ulrika grinned.

“What could you possibly mean by that?” Carling blanched.

“Where do you go when Father is traveling to inspect the garnet mines?” Ulrika asked. “You’re not in the house. You’re nowhere to be found while your husband’s poor relation tends to your younger children. Isn’t it peculiar how Afton was born so prematurely? Yes, peculiar indeed. Considering that Father was abroad for months until six months before her birth. Perhaps it was God who fathered Afton. Is that it, Mother?”

“How dare you?” Carling hissed.

“Mother, I’ve seen you walk across the fields like some love-sick slave. I’ve seen where you’ve gone on humid summer nights.” Ulrika smirked.

“Get out of my sight!” Carling spat.

“That’s what I aim to do, Mother.” Ulrika said, opening the door to the carriage. “I’ll see you at the ball. Do tell Rowan that his sister will miss him.”

Carling turned and walked toward the house as Ulrika climbed into the carriage.

“We’re ready!” She shouted to the driver. “Go.” As the carriage clattered off, Ulrika grinned broadly and whispered. “Stay hidden, you two…until we reach the edge of town.”

As the carriage rolled down La Colline Cramoisie, past the plantation of Manuel Fontanals, Ulrika had no idea that for all the pain she had just caused her mother, another mother was suffering more terribly.

Marjani walked stiffly from the shack into the daylight and squinted. The previous few days had added years to her body—lines and creases began to cut across her once-smooth face and her thick black hair had begun to go white.

She drew in a deep breath as she walked toward the row of modest cabins at the rear of the land.

The slaves who sat outside the cabins looked up at her as she walked. She didn’t dare to come too close to them for she knew she had the seeds of Yellow Fever on her clothes and in her hair.

“Gilbert is dead.” She said softly, but loud enough for them to hear. “I need someone to dig a grave. No proper cemetery will take him. We’ll need to put him here in the land and hope that the Holy Mother done sees fit to let him lay in peace there.”

“What ‘bout Nontle, honey?” A woman called out sympathetically.

“She lives.” Marjani shook her head. “For now…” She fell to her knees in the dust. “Bring me some water so I may wash myself. Then, make Columbia ready so I can talk to her, for to tell her that her daddy…”—she glanced behind her at the gleaming plantation house—“…that the man she calls her daddy is dead.”

Meanwhile, in New Orleans, Naasir shivered as he unpacked Lord Julian’s trunks. He shut his eyes. “Ah,” he whispered to himself. “Poor soul. Would that I were there to help her.” He sniffed the air, “It’s happening sooner than I expected. She’s arrived. Sad…one mother loses a child, another comes to find her own.” His hands shook. “Ice…”

Downstairs, Mr. Punch, Robert, Adrienne and Cecil had gathered in the dining room of that fine mansion on Royal Street. Meridian beamed with pride as her staff—in their finest suits—served them the most opulent meal she could prepare.

“Doesn’t this all look lovely?” Adrienne grinned at Meridian. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Ain’t nothin’, Ma’am.” Meridian said humbly.

“Now, I know that his Lordship likes sausages, so I got some right fine special sausages from the French Market. These are not like anything you done had in England, I can tell you that for sure.”

Mr. Punch’s eyes widened with delight. “Coo!”

“Steady on, dear boy.” Robert winked at Mr. Punch.

“Now, your Lordship, I done taken the liberty of lettin’ your pup eat in the kitchen. I got him a fine meal, too.”

“I’m sure he’s grateful.” Mr. Punch said, partly in his own voice, but trying to be “proper” as he thought Julian might.

“Will you be wantin’ anything else? For that…” Meridian said, squinting at the puppet that Mr. Punch had seated at the dining table in the chair opposite him.

“Do I need to set a place for it…him?” Meridian asked politely.

Adrienne chuckled and looked down at her plate as Cecil snorted.

“No,” Mr. Punch answered happily. “See, he’s a puppet and he don’t eat. Just thought he might like to join us.”

“Folk sure do things different in England, don’t they?” Meridian smiled sincerely. “Long as everyone’s got what they need, I’m happy. I’ll leave you to your supper. You just let one o’ these fellas know if you need me.”

“Thank you, Meridian.” Robert said.

“I say, this is a fine meal.” Cecil said, eating with gusto. “This gumbo is quite lovely. We must have Gamilla talk with Meridian about how she does it.”

“I’ll suggest that,” Adrienne said.

Mr. Punch put his fork down and stared across the table at his puppet.

“Is something wrong, dear Punch?” Robert asked.

“Here, you know how you was sayin’ in there that you had a feelin’? A feelin’ like somethin’ ain’t right?”

“Yes.” Robert nodded.

“I got the strangest feelin’ just now.” Mr. Punch answered. “A chill-like. Like when the wind would howl through Fallbridge Hall and me master would hide under his quilts at night… Like those nights when the Duchess was in a fouler humor than usual. How he’d shiver on those nights. Got a chill like that.”

“There must be a draft in here.” Cecil said, looking at the windows.

“Must be.” Mr. Punch nodded.

At that very moment, Iolanthe Evangeline—dressed in her most elegant gown—strode brazenly across the docks and bowed her head at the regal woman who was disembarking a ship.

“Your Grace,” Iolanthe said, raising her head. “Welcome to New Orleans.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-103? If so, you can read them here.