The Mercutio Problem

by Carol Anne Douglas

  “How did you manage to get to the other world to find Mercutio?” Beth asked. “I wanted you to come. Did I pull you in?”

  He shrugged. “You must have. I felt that you were dying and knew I had to help you.”

  “Thank you.” She found it strange that he could have felt what was happening to her, but then everything was strange.

  After they had walked another block, Arnie said, “Excuse me, but I have calculated the way to defeat Richard.”

  Beth stared at him. Her stomach lurched. “How?”

  “It’s simply logical. Merlin has to die,” Arnie said, as if he were talking about how to win a game.

  “What!” Beth could hardly believe he had spoken those words. She wished he hadn’t figured out the answer.

  Arnie continued. “Consider,” he said. “Merlin is the most powerful person from Mordred’s world. Merlin perpetuates that world. If Merlin dies, Mordred will die, and Richard will be only Richard.”

  “Kill Merlin?” Beth gasped. “I couldn’t do that.”

  “Of course you couldn’t. But you might be able to persuade him to die,” Arnie explained.

  “Persuade the world’s greatest egoist to commit suicide? Impossible. And I don’t even want to.” Beth shuddered. “I don’t want to have anything to do with anyone dying. Especially now that I know how it feels.”

  “He’s a character. He says he’s immortal, but that’s because he’s a character.”

  “Death feels awful even to characters. No. I couldn’t.”

  “Then Mordred will live forever.” Arnie looked her in the eye. “What more terrible things could he do?”

  “Don’t mention that idea again. I always thought you were a gentle person.” Beth shivered from more than the cold. She remembered feeling as if she were fading into oblivion. “And don’t tell anyone else.”

  “I’ve already told Sita.”

  “You haven’t!” Beth put her hands to her face. “She’ll agree with you.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  “And she’ll be waiting for me on my doorstep.” Beth raised her voice.

  “I believe she will be.” Arnie spoke with a calm that disconcerted Beth.

  “Neither of you know Merlin.” She shook her head. “I know him. It’s not just an academic question to me.”

  “It isn’t to anyone who knows what’s been happening.” Arnie’s voice was sharper than usual.

  Beth remembered the witches saying two minus one is one. Mordred had to be severed from Richard. But at what price?

  Beth looked down her block and saw that Sita was indeed on her doorstep. Never had the sight of her friend been more unwelcome.

  The three of them entered the house.

  “If you won’t summon Merlin, I will,” Sita said.

  “How can you be so cool about it?” Beth chided her.

  “What am I supposed to do? Wait to see whether Kevin gets you killed before he kills himself?” Sita looked like a doctor telling a patient there was only one chance to save her life. “I care more about my friends than about a wizard character.”

  Beth sat on the sofa and tried not to think about Merlin.

  The wizard walked in through the kitchen door. He was dressed in fine Renaissance garb, with a large ruff and a brocade doublet.

  Sita stepped up to Merlin. “We know your secret.”

  “I have many secrets.” He looked down on her.

  “But you have one in particular.”

  No, no, Beth thought. Don’t say that King Arthur betrayed him and exiled him. That would be too cruel. That was Merlin’s deepest secret, hidden even from himself. Shakespeare had told her about it, but she was the only one who knew. Surely Sita hadn’t found out.

  “Your energy keeps Mordred alive outside King Arthur’s stories. You are the only character who is able to live in any world you want. You must have shared that power with Mordred. You are perpetuating Mordred’s reign of terror,” Sita accused the old man. “You are by far the most powerful character from his world. If you no longer lived, Mordred would fade away, and Richard would be just an ordinary villain like Macbeth.”

  “What a contemptible lie!” Merlin whitened as usual when he was angry. He advanced on her, as if to intimidate her.

  Sita stood her ground. “It’s the truth, and you know it.”

  “You would murder me?” the wizard asked.

  “I’m not talking about murder.” Sita was implacable. “I’m talking about self-sacrifice.”

  “Then sacrifice yourself. Don’t sacrifice me.” Merlin glared at her. He turned to Beth. “What do you think, Beth? Do you want me to die? You might not be able to time travel if I died. Even when you seem to be traveling under your own power, you are still using my energy.”

  “Don’t insult me by saying the only reason I would want you to live is selfish,” Beth told him. Her heart pounded. “I wouldn’t ask you to die. I couldn’t ask anyone, human or character, to do that.”

  “Not even to save Shakespeare’s world?” Sita asked. “Think, Beth. Don’t just feel.”

  “I can’t ask anyone to die!” Beth insisted. “Isn’t there some other way? Merlin, do you know any other way to stop Mordred?”

  Merlin said nothing.

  “He doesn’t,” Sita said. “Listen to me, Merlin. You care about Shakespeare. If there was a choice between your living another thousand years and Shakespeare’s work, which would you choose?”

  Merlin looked at Sita as if she were a demon. “You know the answer,” he said.

  The wizard focused his gaze on Beth. “If I die,” he said, “you’ll never see Mercutio again.”

  Beth bit her lip.

  “That’s unfair,” Sita said.

  “True, nevertheless.” Merlin’s smile was smug. “Did it ever occur to you very intelligent young people that if I died, Mordred might be even more uncontrollable?”

  Sita didn’t back down an inch. “He isn’t controllable now. You’re lying.”

  “So you have decided that I am expendable?” Merlin stared into their eyes.

  Sita stared right back at him. “I don’t want my friends to die. You’re a character. They are human. Yes, that’s my choice.”

  “But is it Beth’s choice?” Merlin asked.

  Beth shook her head. “No. I can’t make that choice.”

  “I can,” Sita repeated.

  Arnie finally spoke. “So can I.”

  “I shall consider your request,” Merlin said.

  “No,” Beth said, reaching out to him. “Think of another way.”

  Merlin sighed so deeply that the sigh turned into a groan.

  Beth glared at her friends. “You don’t understand anything about death! You’re almost murderers.”

  “Oh, please.” Sita rolled her eyes. “You have to remember the difference between characters and people. We can’t let characters hurt people in the real world.”

  “I’m sorry about this, Beth,” Arnie said, looking at her sorrowfully. “What else can we do?”

  “I killed Tybalt! I’ve killed a man!” Beth screamed. “I never will again. Never!” Her whole body shook. “You don’t understand anything about life and death.”

  Merlin put his hand on her shoulder. She stopped screaming. Merlin had never touched her before.

  “You were enacting Mercutio when you killed Tybalt,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Did that hurt you so much?” He sounded as if he cared. “Tybalt will live again. It’s true that characters and mortals are different.” He disappeared.

  “Did you really kill Tybalt when you were Mercutio?” Arnie asked.

  “Yes,” Beth choked. “I’m a killer.”

  “You weren’t yourself,” he said.

  “Please go away,” Beth implored Sita and Arnie.

  �
��OK,” Sita said. She and Arnie went to the front door. They took a long look at her, and left.

  Beth slumped in an armchair. Not more death, she thought. Please, no more death.

  Chapter 36

  THE NEXT MORNING, BETH saw Sita on the way to school. Sita turned and waited.

  “Hi,” Beth said, dreading what would come next.

  “Hi, yourself. What a nice day.” Sita smiled. “A nice day to go to Ms. Capulet’s office before classes.”

  Beth paused. “Okay, I guess,” she said. The winter sunlight did nothing to cheer her, and neither did the sparrows chirping in the hedges. Dragging her feet was no good. She knew what she had to do.

  When they entered the drama teacher’s office, Ms. Capulet nodded to them and gestured for them to sit in the chairs.

  “Good morning, girls,” she said. She looked into Beth’s eyes. Ms. Capulet’s looked as if she wanted to cry. “Beth, I’ve heard that you died as Mercutio. I’m sorry for your pain. I wish I had never encouraged you to time travel.”

  Beth winced. “I’ll be all right.”

  “I certainly hope so! Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  “No, thank you.” Beth paused. “I suppose I have to time travel now to finally get rid of Richard.”

  “That’s your choice,” Sita said. “Or shall we call Kevin and ask how he’s doing?”

  Ms. Capulet put out her hand as if to restrain Sita. “Don’t pressure her. She’s been through so much.”

  “Please leave me alone with Ms. Capulet,” Beth said. She didn’t want to see how happy Sita would be if Merlin sacrificed himself and ended Mordred’s life.

  Sita hugged her and left, closing the door behind her.

  “I suppose I have to save Kevin by any means necessary?” Beth asked her drama teacher.

  “Have you figured out how to do it?” Ms. Capulet asked. “I don’t want you to suffer anymore, but by saving him, you would also save yourself and all your friends.”

  Beth remembered the sight of Kevin holding the noose. She forced herself to think of Richard.

  She spun past torches glittering in mirrors. She felt that she never wanted to see a mirror again.

  Richard sat on his throne. His crown glittered in the light. Incense swirled around him.

  “Greetings, dear Beth,” he said. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  “I know who you fear,” Beth told Richard.

  In one of his mirrors, a figure appeared. A white-bearded man wearing long robes.

  Richard shrank back in his chair, but he said, “No one can hurt me.”

  Merlin strode through the mirror, into Richard’s great hall that looked like a film set.

  “If you persist in trying to enter the twenty-first century, I will force you to stay in it.” Merlin’s eyes bored into Richard. “I will turn you into the real Richard III. I will make you lie with his bones. You will be in the coffin at Leicester Cathedral, trapped with him for all eternity!”

  “You can’t do that.” Richard attempted a laugh. “I am Shakespeare’s Richard. The real Richard would have nothing to do with me.”

  “I do hesitate to desecrate his grave,” the wizard said. “But I wouldn’t hesitate for long. If I sever Mordred from you . . . .”

  Beth gasped. Would Merlin let himself die?

  “You would not dare to do that.” Richard tried to glare as fiercely as Merlin. “You know what that would mean for you. You’ll never agree to die.”

  “If I sever Mordred from you,” Merlin repeated without flinching, “you will lose your powers. But I will still have mine for a moment. I would not hesitate to send you to Richard’s grave when I send Mordred to his. Be Richard in your own play, or be nothing.”

  “You can’t take my play from me.” Richard’s hand grasped his sword. “It is mine.”

  “Then stop sharing it with Mordred,” the wizard commanded. “Stop trying to enter other minds and other eras. Your play could live just in pages, as most people believe it does, or you could continue to be a thinking Richard and live in your world, as the other characters do. You must choose your own play, or oblivion. Cut yourself off from Mordred.”

  Richard’s voice changed. Mordred cackled. “He’ll never do that, any more than you will agree to die. Without me, he’s just another Shakespearean character who grabs a throne but cannot hold it. No one loves Richard.”

  Merlin stood his ground. “Leave Mordred or die.”

  “Farewell, Mordred,” Richard said. “I can do very well without you. Leave me.”

  “No, you fool!” Mordred screamed. “You will lose your powers. Think. If Merlin dies, the boundaries of all the plays will close. You will no longer be able to talk to characters from other plays, but will be eternally marooned in your own play. No more alliances will be possible.”

  Richard shook his head. “Impossible. I can’t accept that.”

  Beth ventured. “I think you killed Mercutio not just because he threatened you, but because he was witty. You tried to turn him away from his wit, to make him a soldier. But what you really wanted was to destroy him. That’s why Bottom was your other prime target. You want to kill humor.”

  Richard chortled. “Oh, you’re too clever by half, but that won’t do you any good. I’ll destroy what characters I please.”

  Merlin glared at him. “You should have power only over the characters you kill in your own play. Not any others.”

  Richard sneered at Merlin. “Don’t pretend you cared about Mercutio. You thought he was expendable. You detest comedies. You never wanted Shakespeare to write them. So you should have no problem with my destroying them. You especially hate A Midsummer Night’s Dream because it makes magic seem cute. So surely you wouldn’t stop me from destroying that play and turning it into a tragedy?”

  “You mean a bloodbath!” Beth cried.

  “Why not?” Richard shrugged. “I can tear the fairies’ wings to shreds. I can make Bottom’s fellow players so angry at him that they kill him.”

  Merlin raised his hand. “No.” His tone was cold and sharp as an ice pick.

  “No?” Richard laughed. “No? Why not?”

  “Shakespeare’s words are immortal. No one should destroy them.” The wizard voice softened. “I will do everything in my power to prevent that. Everything.”

  “Everything?” Richard laughed again. “No, you won’t. Shakespeare is not so precious. He is not an immortal like you. Or like Mordred.”

  “Everything.” Merlin repeated. “I helped Shakespeare. We made a pact. His works, even those I dislike, are like my children as well as his. Bastards, perhaps, but still my children. I must support him, regardless of the cost.”

  “Regardless?” Richard laughed and spoke in Mordred’s tone. “Now you jest, Merlin. Go join the fairies and gambol through the woods and become a comic character.”

  “I never jest.” Merlin took a step towards Richard. “I am resolved.”

  “I call on Mercutio,” Mordred’s voice intoned. “Yes, Beth I am using your power to summon him.”

  Mercutio appeared. When he saw Richard, he put his hand on his sword hilt.

  “No,” Beth said, putting out a restraining arm. “He is both Richard and Mordred. You can’t kill him. His powers are too great.”

  Mordred’s face floated over Richard’s. He laughed. “What do you say, Beth?” Mordred asked in his smoothest voice. “Will you let Merlin die? Will you destroy the one who brought you to see Shakespeare and Mercutio? Mercutio, will you let her do it? If you let Merlin live, and let me live, you can be together. Beth, you could have the best of both worlds. You could have Mercutio’s love, in whatever form you want, and also have whatever life and love you want in your own century. All you have to do is beg an old man who has befriended you to live. Is that so difficult?”

  Beth covered he
r face with her hands. “I don’t want him to die. I won’t ask him to die, no matter what. So I want him to live, for his own sake.”

  Merlin put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for that. Take your hands off your eyes. You have said that nearly dying was so painful for you that you wouldn’t ask anyone else to do it.” He paused. “Would you do it again, to save a friend?”

  “Yes,” Beth said without hesitation. “But I would never ask anyone else to die.”

  “Ah. I looked back and watched you nearly die. I saw your pain, every moment of it. But nevertheless, you would do it again to save a friend. Watching your almost death has changed me.” Merlin’s features softened as much as it was possible for them to soften after a thousand years of being set in firm expressions. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “There can be nobility in mortals. Can I be less noble than you are?”

  “Persuade her to beg him to live, Mercutio,” Mordred said. “Don’t you want to continue seeing her? Don’t you want to kiss her?”

  Beth shook her head. She looked Mercutio in the eye. “He’ll have power over the plays. What can we do? Mordred will never stop trying to intrude in my brain, and other young people’s brains, and Shakespeare’s brain.”

  “I can see that, Moonface,” Mercutio said, his voice grimmer than she had ever heard it. “He would try to make me a cat or a rat, a villain or a fool. No, Mordred, you will never deceive me again. You will make Queen Mab give us all dreams of bloody war. I no longer want to fight in wars. I laugh at your ugly schemes. Let Beth and Merlin decide what they will.”

  Iago emerged from one of the mirrors and strode into the hall. “Think, Beth. Think, Mercutio. You cannot possibly want Merlin to die. Neither of you will be able to visit the Forest of Arden again. You will never again see Macbeth’s castle and plot with the queen. You will never be able to speak with Hamlet. You will never be able to see the Midsummer World you are so fond of. True, Verona is beautiful, but do you want to spend your whole life there, Mercutio? You have become accustomed to so much greater freedom. And Beth, do you want only your humdrum world, with no chance to live in others?”