Thursday, October 28, 2010

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 82

With cruel, crackling fingers, the fire spread quickly through the stables. Mr. Punch hurried to the stalls and opened the gates, releasing the horses which ran into the pasture.


“Go on, big-eared dogs!” Mr. Punch whooped. “That’s the way to do it!”

“Arthur!” Barbara screamed. “You’ve got to do something.”

Arthur stood, paralyzed with fear.

“Arthur!” Barbara shouted again.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said finally. He gazed at Barbara for a moment and then ran from the stable.

“I have to get Mother!” Ulrika shouted.

“No!” Barbara ordered. “Would you have her discover Miss Evangeline?”

“What do I care?” Ulrika screamed, fleeing the stable.

“Leon!” Barbara spat. “Help me carry her to safety.”

Still dizzy from the powder, the professor shook his head. “Let her burn. That’s what she deserves.”

“He’s correct.” Iolanthe moaned.

“Naasir, run to the cabins and get some of them men to help put this blaze out.” Mr. Punch said quickly. “Go on then, if we don’t do somethin’, these humans are gonna roast in here, they are.”

Naasir narrowed his eyes. “They’ll burn the way they wanted me to burn.”

“We can’t do it, Chum.” Mr. Punch pleaded. “One thing I learned is that it’s not our place to say what’s to happen to people.”

From outside the stable, they heard Carling Rittenhouse screaming as Ulrika dragged her to the stable.

“Listen,” Mr. Punch continued, “You’ve got to.”

“What about you, Sir?” Naasir asked.

“I can take care of me-self.” Mr. Punch said. “Go, then.”

Naasir ran off to find help.

Mr. Punch hurried to Iolanthe Evangeline. “Part o’ me wants to see the fire eat you. But, I know that it’d haunt me master forever if I let it happen.”

He strained to pick up Iolanthe from the hay. His injured hand throbbed with pain.

“Leave me here.” Iolanthe groaned.

“No!” Mr. Punch shouted.

With Iolanthe Evangeline in his arms, he screamed at Barbara. “You fool, would you die in here? Get out!”

“I can’t!” Barbara said frantically as she darted from stall to stall—coughing from the smoke.

“You, too, Professor, or whatever name you’re callin’ yourself.”

The professor stood as still as a statue and grinned at the flames which rose to the roof of the stable.

“Can’t stay in here, I can’t.” Mr. Punch shouted as he carried Iolanthe from the stable. He deposited her gently behind the hedgerow in the Spanish moss which had fallen there in great tufts of fleecy gray.

“Right,” Mr. Punch coughed. “Stay there, you monster. If there’s to be any justice, you’ll find it from men and not from fire.”

Mr. Punch rushed back into the burning barn as Naasir and about a dozen of the field hands came charging toward the place with buckets in their hands.

“Are you daft?” Mr. Punch shouted to “the professor,” “Get out of here!”

The professor continued to grin, looking up at the ceiling which groaned as the fire licked at it.

Punch squinted into the smoke to find Barbara. He saw her digging frantically in the hay.

“I can’t find it!” She screamed.

“Doesn’t matter.” Mr. Punch raced to her side. He grabbed her around the waist so he could carry her out, but she beat him about the head and shoulders with her fists.

“Unhand me!” She screamed.

“Won’t let you perish in this, I won’t. Me master’d never forgive me even if you are a beast what stole from him.” Mr. Punch argued.

Barbara wriggled free. “He left me!” Barbara spat. “He left me in here to die!”

“Don’t worry none ‘bout Arthur. He’s no good! Barbara, we can make all o’ this right, we can. Just come with me! No sense in letting Julian lose his father and his sister, too.”

“I hate you.” Barbara growled. “You’re mad!”

“I’m comin’ back for you, I am.” Mr. Punch frowned. He next went to Leon, the professor. He tried to tackle the giant man, but the professor shoved Mr. Punch away.

“Leave me.” The professor snarled. “This will be the start of my Hell.”

With a hideous creak, the timbers of the roof began to give way and fell in glowing splinters around their shoulders.

“Don’t know what to do.” Mr. Punch moaned as he heard screams from outside.

With a monstrous crash, the entire ceiling fell around them in a heavy mass of orange, red and gold.

Mr. Punch fell to the smoking hay beneath him. He felt Julian’s body grow heavier and heavier as his lungs filled with smoke. Within seconds, the bright world around him turned black.



Did you miss Chapters 1-81? If so, you can read them here.

4 comments:

Darcy said...

Oh no. Please don't let Mr. Punch , Julian die!

Joseph Crisalli said...

Mr. Punch has a phoenix-like quality about him. He's managed to survive thus far. Thanks for reading!

Dashwood said...

I'm actually horrified. How brilliant that Punch's style of speech is lining up so much closer to the refined Julian when he's showing his best.

Very very well done.

Joseph Crisalli said...

Hi Dashwood, I'm so glad you noticed that. I wondered if perhaps it was too subtle, but, yes, just as Julian exhibited Punch-like characteristics when he confronted Mrs. Rittenhouse, Punch is showing Julian-like tendencies when under pressure. Thanks!