Meridian hurried down the front steps of the creamy Royal Street mansion and opened her arms so wide it appeared that she was trying to embrace all of her visitors at once.
“Welcome back, Dr. Halifax! Welcome back, Your Lordship!” She called as they approached. “And, I see ya done brought your fine family with ya. Oh and a baby. I can’t rightly say the last time there’s been a baby in this house. What a blessing! What a mighty blessing!”
Adrienne grinned at the jolly woman. “I do hope we won’t be too much trouble.”
“Don’t be silly.” Meridian answered cheerfully. She paused, “Ma’am, can I ask you a question?”
“Yes,” Adrienne nodded.
“Are you from France?” Meridian asked.
“I am.” Adrienne nodded.
“Well, isn’t that fine?” Meridian laughed. “That’s just fine. Now, ya’ll come on in, we gotta get you out this damp cold and by a nice fire with some chocolate. I made them rooms ready for ya and we got a fine supper comin’. Now, come in and get yourselves some rest. You gotta be tired after travelin’ all the way from Marionneaux.”
“Coo.” Mr. Punch whispered to Robert. “Awful friendly, isn’t she? We was only here a day and she’s actin’ like we’re her long-lost kin.”
“That’s the New Orleans way, dear Punch.” Robert smiled.
They walked into the house as Meridian lagged behind to give Gamilla and Naasir instructions on where to bring the luggage and where they’d be staying.
When she’d finished, she rushed into the house and immediately went directly to Adrienne. “Now, you just follow me, ma’am. I’ll show ya where your baby’s gonna sleep and let you see how nice I made the room up for the little lamb. Them gentlemen know where their rooms are already. Now, you and your husband, will be over here…”
Adrienne followed Meridian up the stairs—chuckling to herself.
“I’d best follow her,” Cecil said quickly. “Are you coming?”
“No, I think we’ll stay down here by the fire for awhile,” Robert said, coughing slightly.
“Very well.” Cecil nodded. “We’ll see you at dinner.”
“Here, not gettin’ sick again are ya?” Mr. Punch asked, taking off his coat and putting it on one of the chairs in the front hall.
“No.” Robert shook his head. “It’s just the cold hurts my chest a bit.”
“Careful, then.” Mr. Punch frowned.
“I’ll be careful.” Robert nodded. “Come, let’s go in the parlor.”
“Gotta wait here for Naasir,” Mr. Punch looked over his shoulder. “He said he’d bring Toby and me wooden-headed chum around from the back.
The clicking of little nails on the wooden floors signaled that Toby was already in the house. The terrier bounded toward Mr. Punch with his tail wagging.
“There’s me furry chum,” Mr. Punch grinned. “Did you like ridin’ in the carriage?”
The dog sniffed Mr. Punch’s feet.
“Come on, then, let’s go in here and sit by the fire.” Mr. Punch said to the dog who followed him into the deep red parlor. “I ‘spect Naasir will find us.”
“I’m sure he will.” Robert said, clearing his throat.
Punch studied his friend. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine.” Robert smiled.
“You said that the last time, and, as I remember, you fell like a sack of stones, you did.” Mr. Punch frowned.
“I’m not ill, I promise.”
“Huh.” Mr. Punch grunted, beginning to mumble. Toby wagged his tail as Mr. Punch chattered. “Says he’s not ill, but probably just sayin’ it so I won’t worry. Now, I gotta worry even more ‘bout it and look after him. Can’t just tell me what he’s really feelin’ cuz, I ‘spose that would be too easy…”
“You know, dear Punch, I can hear you.” Robert chuckled.
“I know.” Mr. Punch grumbled. “Want you to hear me. I know the difference between thinkin’ inside and thinkin’ outside.”
“You’re too quick for me,” Robert sighed. “Very well, there is something troubling me.”
“What is it? I’ll hit it with a stick!”
“No, no.” Robert smiled. “I just have a very bad feeling.”
“What’d ya mean?”
They were interrupted by Naasir coming into the parlor with the wicker basket containing Mr. Punch’s puppet. He, too, looked concerned.
“I think Naasir understands.” Robert looked to the man.
“I’d understand, too, if you told me!” Mr. Punch muttered in frustration.
“Naasir, do you have the sense that something is about to happen? Something, for lack of a better word, bad?” Robert asked.
“Sir,” Naasir said, setting the basket on the sofa next to Mr. Punch, “It is written that when ‘The Great Man of the Rocks’ returns to the center of the crescent, he will be pursued by fire on a white stallion.”
Mr. Punch grunted again, taking his puppet from the basket. He mumbled to the puppet. “You got it easy, wooden-head, you don’t gotta figure out riddles.”
“I don’t mean to speak in riddles, Mr. Punch.” Naasir said softly. “I’m only repeating what I recall.”
“So, then,” Robert began, “according to this legend, what happens after that?”
“There is a clash between the fire and the ice.” Naasir said. “Beyond that, I cannot say because it is not my place to do so.”
Robert’s head sagged.
The room was silent for several minutes.
Mr. Punch pressed his lips together. “Here, look what I can do.” He lifted the puppet into his lap and made it dance for the other two men.
Robert chuckled. “Well done.”
“Yes, Sir.” Naasir nodded.
“Listen,” Mr. Punch said after awhile. “Not a one of us knows what’s gonna happen, we don’t. But, if I’ve learned anything, I’ve learned that you gotta take it as it comes. Ain’t no good in making yourself sick over somethin’ what might be. Gotta fight the things that are. And, right now, we gotta make sure we’re strong enough to fight. Think ‘bout Marjani back in Marionneaux with her poor sick daughter. She’s got a grandbaby she’s got to think ‘bout. We know that Nontle and Gilbert ain’t gonna live. Marjani’s gotta have to raise that girl all by herself. But, she ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout that. She’s thinkin’ ‘bout the fight she’s got right in front of her. She taught me that, she did. She taught me to deal with what you got and to believe that you can beat whatever comes next. I think she’s right, I do. So, that’s what we gotta do. Can’t worry ‘bout no fire on a white horse. Gotta look to right now and see that we’re all safe—here in this house what ain’t ours. We’re all together. Naasir and you and me. Adrienne and Cecil and the little man, and Toby and even Gamilla. Look at all we survived. We’re a strong lot! It ain’t just me who can beat the devil. We all can if we set ‘bout doin’ it properly.”
With that, Mr. Punch made the puppet bow. “And, me wooden chum agrees.” He added.
“When…” Robert walked and moved the basket so that he could sit next to Mr. Punch. “When did you become such a philosopher?”
“Always was.” Mr. Punch smiled. “Just nobody thought to ask me.”
“This is why he’s the ‘Great Man.’” Naasir said softly.
“There’s no one greater.” Robert nodded.
Meanwhile, back in Marionneaux, Ulrika was shouting at the servants who carried her trunks out of the house. “Really, can’t you people hurry?”
She inspected the carriage. “I’ll need a rug!” She shouted.
Carling Rittenhouse raced out of the mansion and squawked at her daughter. “Whatever do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to New Orleans, Mother.” Ulrika answered plainly.
“We’re not due to leave for two days!” Carling argued.
“I reckon I have a desire to go early.”
“Without a chaperone?” Carling shook her head, “I forbid it!”
“I’ll have a chaperone, Mother.” Ulrika sighed. “I’ll be staying at the Cages’ House on Royal Street. Corliss Cage is already there with their nanny and the children.”
“I will not allow you to go unattended.” Carling shouted.
“Fine, then, I’ll take Agnes with me.” Ulrika grinned.
“And leave me without a nanny?” Carling moaned. “Never!” She grabbed Ulrika by the arm. “I know you fancy that you’re an independent woman, Ulrika, but I’ll have you know that you’re still subject to my authority.”
“Really, Mother?” Ulrika pulled her arm away from her mother’s grasp. She shook her head in the cool sunlight—her red hair catching the light like flames as she walked over to one of the horses hitched to the carriage. “Really?” She patted the horse’s ivory flank. “I beg to differ.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-102? If so, you can read them here.
