Showing posts with label Chapter 247. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter 247. Show all posts

Friday, February 1, 2013

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 247




Chapter 247 

Wickedness 



I trust you don’t mind meeting in the garden, Mr. Donnan?” Mr. Punch asked as Speaight escorted Johnny and Mr. Stover into the small, walled garden behind No. 65 Belgrave Square. Neither Punch nor Robert stood to greet their visitors, but Punch was careful to speak in Julian’s measured, cautious manner.

Robert nodded at Speaight who returned to the house, but not without first casting one final surveying glance at the Duke and the doctor to see that they were safe.

“I didn’t expect Your Grace to welcome us into your parlor.” Mr. Donnan nodded.

“Ours is a house of mourning, Mr. Donnan,” Robert spoke up.

“Aye, Mrs. Pepper told me, and I truly could no’ be sorrier, Doctor. Poor lass. She was a good girl, Jenny. But, let’s not whitewash it, Dr. Halifax. That ain’t the reason you gentlemen don’t want us in your fine, handsome home. Shall we speak honestly? I’m a bad man and Jonas is a thief. There’s no gettin’ round that, Sirs. I’m a brute and Jonas would pick your rooms clean of their appointments. As it is, he’s sure to steal the very blooms from the garden. He can’t help himself, he can’t. And, if he’d speak, aye, he’d tell ya the same and worse of me, I’m sure.”

“Please, sit.” Mr. Punch gestured to two ornate wrought iron chairs which flanked a bronze sundial.

“Thank you both for taking the time to see us.” Robert began.

“As good and fine as Your Grace and yourself are, we ain’t here for you.” Mr. Donnan said. “We’re here because we’re wronged and we, ourselves, have been wrong. We’re here because we’ll burn in Hell no matter what, but St. Peter’d best see some final bits of good in us before we reach our judgment day. We’re lost men, Doctor. Both of us lost our sons, and both because of the wickedness of Orpha Polk. We aim to see her get her due.”

Mr. Stover nodded silently.

“Now, I’m not here to sanctify our lads. Neither was a prize. Finlay was greedy and sly, and William was what he was…as you know well, Doctor.”

Robert frowned and began to speak, but Mr. Donnan continued.

“Yet, I got one bit of good. One fine thing what I made--Lennie. Though I spoke but a few words to the girl in Scotland, I knew at once she were a fine lass, a clever lass with spirit. I’m grateful to ya, Sir, that you gave her your fine father’s name. I bless ya for takin’ her in like she was your sister. Poor thing saddled with a pa like me and a ma like yours.”

“To begin with, Mr. Donnan, Lennie IS my sister, no matter who her father was. Furthermore, Mr. Barrett was the only father she ever knew. Had the name not been tainted by Orpha Polk’s lies, I’d not have even suggested she take my name. I’d have felt a kinship to her regardless of what she was called. Yet, I do take comfort in that we now share a commonality which allows society to know that we’re related and that I’m proud of her.” Mr. Punch answered.

“Aye, that’s why Your Grace is so well-loved. Your kindness. Nary a soul loves us. My son would have been the first to speak of his hate for his da’. Now, he’s drowned with only the story of my beatin’s to his history. Sure, but he never knew that I loved him.” Johnny looked at Mr. Stover. “And, what’s the thief got left? A daughter who’s a harlot and a brood of bastard grandchildren. Eudora’s as loose a woman as…”

“Yes.” Robert held up his hand.

“Yet, you showed her kindness in the past, Doctor.” Mr. Donnan continued as if his whole life hinged on that moment in the sunshine—that one moment in his life when he might confess everything he ever thought or felt, his only opportunity to ever unburden himself. “And, how’s she repay ya? By workin’ wickedness into your home. I’m guilty of the same. Your Grace never done me harm. Your pa was kind to see me girl go to a better home. And, I, too allowed meself to be tricked into workin’ evil against ya. I dunno why. Maybe I was tryin’ to punish your ma through you. She was a wicked one, your ma. Beautiful, but wicked. Aye, she…”

“I am aware, Mr. Donnan, of my mother’s…personality.” Mr. Punch said firmly.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace.” Mr. Donnan nodded. “As does Mr. Stover.”

Mr. Stover, again, nodded.

“Here I am, goin’ on like a fool when yours is a house in mournin’. And, so soon after poor Mrs. North was sent to God…another cruel act of that woman, Orpha.”

“That’s why we’ve asked you here.” Robert spoke up, hoping to regain control of the conversation.

“How might we help you in stoppin’ this witch?” Mr. Stover asked.

“At first,” Punch explained, “we hoped you, with Mr. Stover’s help, could convince Eudora to abandon her alliance with Orpha and, also, to see to it that Orpha was frightened enough to stop her campaign against not only us, but also Lady Lensdown whose children, along with another girl called Fern, have been taken by the woman.”

“At first?” Mr. Donnan grunted. “And, now?”

Robert and Punch exchanged glances. Robert nodded.

“Now, we want you to kill her.” Punch answered.





Did you miss Chapters 1-246 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 248.






Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 247

As Naasir spoke, the light in the phantom room grew all the brighter and warmer. Mr. Punch could feel his face bathed in the sunrise glow of bronze, amber and gold. He shivered as the light enveloped him, and though the radiance was warm, he couldn’t help but feel cold.


“It is written,” Naasir began, “in the tale of ‘The Great Man of the Rocks,’ that he should wish for a family.”

“I got a family,” Punch interrupted. “I got a big family. I got Robert, and Cecil and Adrienne and Fuller.” Punch said innocently. “And, I got Marjani and Meridian and Gamilla and me puppet, and sweet, furry Toby.”

“Yes,” Naasir nodded.

“I’m part of the ‘Great Man of the Rocks,’ yes?” Mr. Punch asked.

“You are.” Naasir smiled. “You and His Grace are, together, the Great Man who is two men in one.”

“So, I got me wish. I got a family. Even you, Chum, though you’re dead. And even Charles and Barbara in their own way.”

Naasir grinned. “You have all of those people, Sir, including me.”

“Let Naasir continue, dear Punch,” Julian said softly. Even though the light around them was quite brilliant, Julian, somehow, still sat in cool blue shadows.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Naasir replied.

“I’m listenin’. “ Mr. Punch shrugged. “Didn’t know I wasn’t ‘sposed to add things. Go on.”

“’The Great Man of the Rocks’ wished for a child to carry his name,” Naasir continued.

“I got that—Colin.” Mr. Punch interrupted again.

“However,” Naasir said, ignoring Mr. Punch. “The child was not his.”

Mr. Punch looked over his shoulder at Julian who nodded.

“We know he ain’t really mine. He’s Barbara’s son. Barbara’s and that terrible Arthur. But, who born him don’t matter none. It’s who’s gonna raise him to be a man what matters.”

“And, that’s just it, Mr. Punch.” Naasir shook his head.

“I don’t understand.” Punch grunted.

“Perhaps if you let Naasir finish,” Julian whispered.

“But, I don’t wanna hear it.” Mr. Punch muttered.

“You must, dear Punch.” Julian said quickly.

“Do you know what he’s gonna say?” Punch asked his master.

“I do.” Julian sighed. “However, you need to hear it yourself.”

“I don’t wanna.” Mr. Punch put his hands over his ears.

“You must.” Julian said firmly.

Mr. Punch removed his hands from his ears and frowned.

“The child is named ‘Holt.’” Naasir spoke up.

“His name was such, but it ain’t no more.” Mr. Punch argued. “He’s called Colin like our pa.”

“The child is named, ‘Holt.’” Naasir repeated. “And he grows to be a wonderful man with a kind heart filled with love and respect.”

“That’s good to know.” Mr. Punch grumbled.

“Despite his parentage and despite the home in which he is raised.” Naasir continued.

“But, he’ll be raised in a good home. Me and Robert—we’ll take good care of him.” Mr. Punch replied emotionally.

“You and the Doctor will always be a part of the child’s soul. The love you feel for him will be what drives him into a life of kindness. He will be so much like you—both of you. The way in which he loves and the kindness that he shows those who culture would beat.”

“I don’t wish to hear this.” Mr. Punch began to cry.

“The child is called ‘Holt.’” Naasir said firmly. “And, like his uncles, gives his life for the greater good.”

“After living it long and full.” Mr. Punch said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“After fulfilling what is written.” Naasir shook his head.

The light around them faded from bronze to lavender and Mr. Punch suddenly felt warm and began to perspire.

“No.” Mr. Punch shouted. “I ain’t gonna listen.”

“You can ignore it, Sir,” Naasir answered softly, “but, it won’t change it.”

“He’s mine. Mine and Robert’s.” Punch stuck his legs with his own fists. “We’re gonna raise him.”

“Like you, Sir, he belongs to fate.” Naasir smiled.

Mr. Punch began to pant.

“I don’t understand,” Punch wailed.

“Dear Punch, the child is not ours. We must return him to where he belongs.”

“Not you, too, Master.” Mr. Punch turned around and looked at Julian who was no longer shrouded in shadows, but rather, glowing as Naasir did—in a rosy brightness.

“We must accept it.” Julian said.

“But, why?” Punch moaned.

“Because it is what is written,” Naasir replied. “We cannot fight it.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-246? If so, you can read them here.