The Meddler
Page 3
Meddler kept his head down and muttered, ‘Is right.’
‘Well we need not speak, boy, to share in God’s creation this morning, ay!’
Meddler touched his hat. ‘Handsome.’
‘You look vexed this morning, Reverend, if you don’t mind the observation? Does something pain you?’
‘Pain me, Reuben? Always man, always.’
‘Boiled water,’ Meddler sniggered, and both did poorly to hide their amusement. A little confused and embarrassed and perhaps aided by magic, the Reverend made his excuses and left these two meddlers in a state of disrepair.
‘Lord save my soul! I should not laugh so, not at the cloth.’
‘I am sure he forgives us; ay, Reverend?!’ Meddler stood up, shaking with laughter, calling after the distressed Bell Bake who doffed his hat and much to their amusement did trip, but forgave them both after all.
Spectacle or not the two decided that more of the same would be no bad thing and so between them had more fun with the unsuspecting town’s folk of Hares Folly than was ever deemed proper.
‘Lucky,’ Reuben remarked that Meddler as a rule, would never introduce himself as such to any he pillaged or plundered and that at least he showed some sense there. And so the two were quite the well informed and quite ridiculously amused, until they became to the town’s folk here, less contemptible and more an issue to be addressed. And so, by and by they quit their roaming though these beggar’s bounty streets that burgeoned so handsomely with all manner of treats. Enough to amuse a Meddler for a while and tickle his companion endlessly. Was Reuben’s wisdom that had them stop, and quite satiated the two sat whilst Reuben partook of a fancy that the Baker’s wife had provided. Bear in mind ‘wife’ for both her and her husband had high regard for the man and was brought about by his love of their pie.
‘Wilhelmina, Niamh! I have told you so many times, never Willy ! Do you not think that perhaps her future husband lies about this corner? Niamh, if he were to hear you he would not be tempted to venture our way. No, girl, but if he heard the name Wilhelmina peal gently against this soft summer breeze, then Niamh, then might he go out of his way!’ The shrill and rather put out Dowager looked about for admiration at her words, but was disappointed; the town’s folk of Hares Folly knew better than to engage with her when in high dudgeon and wonder that she did not? And did not hide her state for better effect.
‘I despair, I really do! And why my daughter wishes you near at all times I do not know.’ Once again she looked about her, for not an answer but confirmation that what she omitted to say was understood, and burden shared. ‘I say, you will do her no favours with that sour face of yours, and this habitual will to dress down the very best of clothes! A bow, girl, is an enhancement not a hindrance!’ She struggled with the knot which the girl, Niamh Nay Pa, had made of it; spitefully named so Meddler informed, for her mother, the Dowager’s sister, had been in no way demure for at least the occasion of poor Niamh’s conception. Dead now, but still managing a little discomfort for those left, especially those in charge of her child.
‘I knew all that, thank you, Creature, and it is common here to poke fun at her. I ask you, would you brush your hair and tie a pretty bow if every time you did so it was yanked and pulled till tears filled your eyes? Truth she is no charmer, but I am proud to say I never add to her pains. Surely, Meddler, she feels it bad, when she is always in the company of Miss Proctor Forsythe? Why the two are so attached is beyond all, and yet still Miss Wilhelmina will not have it different.’
‘A tragedy, Reuben, but I would turn your ideas inside out and say that for me it is Niamh who inspires my poet within. Wilhelmina, for your kind perhaps is treasure indeed, and I am sure it is seen of as her success, but for myself it is Niamh Nay Pa who has captured me. She is a rare one,
Reuben, where attentions have been lacking or unwanted thus far, I believe she will enjoy mine. So poisonous and yet totally accepting of her embittered state, do you know that she actually enjoys it? And why shouldn’t she? For sure if I was nursed on sour milk I would acquire a taste for it, and find the other sickly!’ Meddler announced this to any that might hear but none took notice, perhaps because he could not have looked sillier in his over-sized hat, or perhaps that his words sounded wicked where they shouldn’t have.
‘I will stop you right there, Meddler, and remind you that this venture of ours today is perilous enough without any of your conjuring and interfering. If you were to be discovered, what then ay? I would no more protect you than would confess to knowing you. A witch hanging is not so outdated, especially in such deep country, and what do you think they would say of Old Reuben, ay? Chills me to think, Creature!’
‘Poor Reuben, still you need reminding that I am always prepared. And all that surprises me is you and your stubborn state of disbelief! In fact, I know it is intentionally created, for it suits you better. Really, you should sit amongst the little ones at bed time, I am sure you would enjoy the stories as much as they. Now please, would be rude to not introduce myself properly.’
Before he could prevent him, our Meddler was before the party and had artlessly introduced himself as, ‘Wakanda the Magnificent, a true magician. Ladies if you will allow me to tempt you with a small trick?’
The party was made up of one desperate to be noticed, one who was always, and one who was only ever noticed if she screamed, and they seemed eager enough. The Dowager Proctor Forsythe took it upon herself to apply rules with imperious contempt, that was noted by Meddler to be in reality a ploy to have her the object of this trick.
‘Well, I am not sure this sort of practice should be encouraged, I am not a believer, Sir! I would not have you fooled so and my daughter is very impressionable, as you can see.’ She alluded to the poor wretch Niamh, who whispered in Wilhelmina’s ear and made the girl blush unfavourably and giggle nervously.
‘None of which are pretty states!’ The Dowager’s look drained the girl of the unfortunate colour and giggles and she looked again to our Meddler, fanning herself expectant of his attention. And so, unobligingly and with a little relish, he ignored the two in favour of Niamh.
‘In your pocket, something of great value, at least to you and me. A notebook - you wrote that you very much wished that you could see beyond the back end of the old nag that hampers your progress, and that you would rather smell an old onion than any more lavender water.’
The Dowager looked embarrassed, but was not aware enough of anything else but herself to note the insult. She grabbed Niamh and took the small book from her pocket. ‘Look! Look Wilhelmina, he is correct though how he deciphered this scrawl I do not know. Sir, this is most impressive!’
‘Mama, may I speak?’
‘Don’t be silly, girl, there is no need.’ Wilhelmina blushed again and Niamh forcibly pushed her aside.
‘How do you know what I wrote? ‘
‘I was behind you and you should be more guarded of who you share your dreams with.’
‘Well! I did not write in it and you were not behind me! And whatever it is that you say you are, I say that I did not share my dreams. More that you are a fraud and a thief, and have stolen them!’
The Dowager, obviously taken by our Meddler, hushed the dark prickly girl and pinched her chin. ‘Silly girl, does everything have to be so serious? Perhaps it suits you with your plain face to never think of magic, for there is none to be had in it. As for us, well this is a most pleasant diversion!’
‘You came by way of the Chase?’ Niamh began viciously, ‘you must have seen the gibbet?’
‘Don’t be so churlish, girl! Or indeed so forthright! And really, the thought that you might inspire a hanging? Though I have a notion, Wilhelmina do you think the same? For sure here is a man of sorts who has singled you out. This is unprecedented, perhaps if you were more willing? Wilhelmina, I see you think the same.’
‘Begging your pardon, Mama, but no I do not. I think Niamh is just once again hurt by a vicious and thoughtless assault.’
Still Niamh stared at our Meddler for she truly felt aggrieved, and was not till this day that she realised that her poison was not born of harsh words or from a town wanting manners or Dowager unwilling to teach them. Was a magic, a gift that filled every inch of her as she looked about and saw the essence of her tormentors and was unimpressed, but for a few. Barely glimpsing them as they appeared in darkness and was not these souls that clouded her days for here she felt loved, more worshipped and often was warmed by their presence.
‘A better soul never lived.’ She sighed, as though she feasted and satisfied herself on him.
Wilhelmina, still blushing from an unusual set of circumstances and Niamh imparting a few truths with venom, decided the Dowager’s skirts more than adequate hiding place. Upon reflection, she felt it must have been the designer’s intention for they truly were of exaggerated proportions, but still could not keep her from further assault.
Well, you would never accuse, and he never did say that he was of sweet disposition. No indeed, a Meddler could not be held accountable as has been said before; any fault lies within you .
‘Poor Willy, tell me - did her words hurt?’ Meddler was enjoying himself endlessly with the two of them and found neither less attractive than the other.
‘What words? Niamh!’ The shrill Dowager cried. ‘Oh I see, girl, you thought to belittle her with that you were the object of his humiliation! So let that be an end to it. Oh, stiffen up Wilhelmina!
Do you wish it had been you who had been hurt so? An ugly blush, my girl, at the wrong time of day can ruin a girl, remember that. Now come along girls, surely this will amuse us for hours. Thank you, Sir, but upon reflection I do believe that tricks and guessing games are best suited to the parlour, and since this is not...’ She pulled Niamh into line and the party bustled away. Reuben took the chance to clip Meddler about the ear and grab his collar.
‘Come on then, you! This has spoiled my day, we are going home.’
‘If you think to teach me a lesson, Reuben, best teach yourself one first. I know you enjoyed it!’
‘Enjoyed it?! Do you know how close you came? Even still more may come of it, foolish Meddler, badly done!’
‘Ouch, you are hurting me, Reuben!’ He shrugged himself loose of the fierce, bony grip and held his hand up to stop him. Delving into exaggerated pockets which he had developed himself, insisting it would catch on, he produced another pie as peace offering.
‘Where? How? You have not been gone from my sight!’
‘Ah but, Reuben, Wakanda is magic. Wakanda can do this !’ And he pulled from another equally ridiculous pocket a small note book. Reuben grabbed the book and threw the Meddler in the back of the cart.
‘That will do, Creature - thief! Do you think you amuse me? It is private and words you will never feel or understand.’
‘Reuben, I am sorry. I only meant to impress.’ He straightened his hat and his cheeks coloured a little. ‘Why are you worried about me, Reuben? Why can I not see with you?’
‘I have my own magic, Meddler, it seems stronger in me these days. Your conceit led you to believe that you would never find one such as I then?’
‘Conceited, I? And yet the words that fill your notebook are full of such things. Do you not assume in them of how you are admired, esteemed? No, Reuben, all poets are firstly and for most part in love with themselves!’
‘When I was not more than twenty, did I write that verse and have not done the like since. You see, when I was young and had not lived, I found I could create such poetry - but now I am old and have lived I find I cannot. What does that tell you, ay Meddler? You, who knows all?’ Reuben was still burning, and even brighter with Meddlers cheek, he found this little creature to be failing more lately, and had become concerned.
‘It tells me, Reub that once I was like you! A fantastical, true and ferocious mythical beast. A Dragon who so part of this world bled every time he left it to dream on else, the pain of which became so intense that in the end dreams were put away. This being a lonely existence, the Dragon had to find other magic to sustain. There, Reuben now you know, as do I.’
He could not help but laugh that even at his worst, Meddler could delight. ‘Ah, go on then. No harm done you think?’
‘I know so , Reuben. Even the prickly one joins in on an infectious re-telling of the event! I would not be surprised if we received an invite post-haste.’
‘Hey there! Hold up I say, you there!’ A well dressed gent hastened towards them, unsettling Reuben.
‘Hello, how do you do? Harold Punch - but Harry will do. Now then, you must be Reuben, I have heard great things from Bell Baker of you. And you, Sir, are really quite tiny but then Wakanda The Magnificent could be nothing else - for surely lofty height is less magical? I know I have none!’
‘I prayed that the Lord would bless me with little feet when I was young, but no he saw fit to land me with these.’ Reuben blessed the party with a little dance.
‘No magic to be had there, then!’ Harry Punch admired them comically.
‘Unless something could be had from their enormity?’ Reuben pointed the toe of a very worn boot with at least one toe on display.
Meddler laughed, ‘But gentlemen, I am yet to reach my natural stature. I am most patiently awaiting a growth spurt.’
After pleasantries and much hand shaking, Harry Punch and Reuben enjoyed some condescension towards Wakanda The Magnificent and a strange alliance was formed that day between a Giant, a Fire Breathing Dragon, and this wee little Creature. No offence was taken at their words, and he rather enjoyed the freedom their jokes gave; and as for their new friend, Meddler indulged him a little, disguised as a trickster. As for magic, well there were laws and covenants forbidding him to disclose methods and so a little mind reading was received in good humour - no matter how accurate.
‘There she is, time for us to be off, Meddler. The sun needs light our way home and she will scorn us for our contempt if we leave it later.’
Meddler saluted and Harry helped him into the cart,
‘Well, friends, I have enjoyed all of these two hours spent with you and did not notice them passing! I must say I court some scorn myself if I do not make it home before dinner. My mother, you see, is a naval wife and I will say no more. But still, this has been jolly hasn’t it?’
‘Aye, Harry, has been good.’ Reuben patted him on the shoulder and said resolutely, ‘I shall be sad to leave the place.’
‘But it is just for today, Reuben, surely? Not so tragic.’
The statement was beyond the likes of Harry Punch but not Meddler, who as hard as he tried could see nothing other than a tragedy and no amount of meddling would change it. Were some things beyond him? It seemed so.
‘Nice to meet you,’ he whispered to Reuben, ‘I never knew the joy of a surprise until this day. Is you that is magic, dear Reuben.’
Reuben winked at the slightly distraught creature and it seemed enough; and for Harry the Giant too, who had shared his confusion, and even perhaps his realisation.
‘Wakanda, you seem thoughtful?’
‘Harry, you are not yet the mind reader. I am confused, rather, as our thoughts have mixed where we have been of one mind.’
‘You seem sincere.’
‘Ah, but I am mostly!’ Meddler took Harry’s hand and said, ‘I am sure there will be many such times to be had.’
‘Well of course, and I have a mind to secure one. What say you to a luncheon tomorrow, the pair of you? I know it is a considerable trip but surely the promise of good food and more of what we shared today is inducement enough? Yes, my mother will make herself essential, but still my dear friends, will you refuse me? I would add that if there is no light to guide you home, beds will be found.’
‘Delighted I would be,Harry, and please to call me Meddler, for is what those close to me know me as.’
‘Then we are set. Let us meet here for is as good a place as any, and I shall escort you. And yes, Meddler, tis strange to call someone such a thing, but having heard dear Reuben refer to you as such, can only seem good to me.’
Reuben made to leave and Meddler took no time to make succinct appraisal of Harry,
‘Some people, Reuben, do not have pockets!’
‘Unlike yourself then.’ Reuben laughed as the two made trail for home, and wooed the sun so she lit their way till old father Kane bid them welcome. No need you might think, on seeing the set up, but the care and love the old man showed was worth fortunes to the weary traveller; and so he was never told that his attentive nature was unnecessary.
‘Here, we have them back!’ Kane heralded their arrival with his usual zeal and Reuben and Meddler took seats by the fire, gathering the children along with the elders who were ever in search of tales and treats of foreign lands. Truth is, none of them ever ventured further than where Kane kept watch and valiantly guarded them with staff and tales enough to make them scream or question reason. Reuben got up, announcing that he was tired and that anything he needed to say could wait till the morrow. This was greeted with horror and protestations from all, until they realised he was half-hearted and that too much attention was paid to his companion, and not enough to him. So cajoled, there he sat and all waited, but not a word did he speak. Meddler danced about the fire producing demons from the flames, (you may well doubt this, but did you not just see them yourself?)
Still Reuben sat, smiling from face to face until Meddler screamed, ‘Reuben will you please?!’
The Old Dragon rolled on his back and laughed, exclaiming, ‘Well according to the creature, I have magic enough of my own! No? Well I shall not tell again, and really am off to bed this time!’