‘Will you be satisfied with just myself? Aye I think you will!’ The words were thick in his throat, thick with agony – fear . He was no longer sensible, and thank God for that.
‘Will any of you come forward and take responsibility for this?’ Bell Baker stood before him, fierce and loyal. ‘Or do you hope that this council will persuade another to carry out this wanted judgement?’ He laughed bitterly.‘Yes, I laugh! For you accuse with no evidence and no courage to speak the actual words! You accuse out of desperation! And unfortunately it is infectious – so I shall take this man with me now, from you all – and he shall know sanctuary! As will all his friends!’ He laughed again. ‘I came here to help, to help this poor soul.’ He pointed wildly to Meddler. ‘But I see that a more sanitised environment is needed to rid him of whatever he fears from this –’ He gestured to Niamh. ‘– this Creature , and those under her influence!’
Niamh curtseyed, feeding the frenzied – hating crowd.
‘Come, friends, this is both unholy and unsafe!’ Bell Baker went to take them from there but a man stepped forward to bar their way. He was thickly set and the stench of liquor on his breath was suffocating. He staggered forward.
‘You would deprive us of a lynching then, would you now, Reverend?’
He fell against Bell Baker, who pushed him to the ground and rolled him over with his foot. ‘About the sum of you all! Now if any wish to prevent us leaving? No? Well then – perhaps the ravine that has formed between us will allow you all to think more clearly!’
He strode over to the Dowager, ‘And now, Lady – mind my words; be aware, grief is a twisting and constricting monster, do not let it choke out of you a judgement on a man you have known of as good before this.’
She looked at him but did not see, blinded by a need to avenge her son’s death.
‘My eye! Oh my eye!’ Evading his look, she was obviously moved by his perception of her state and had been strong in creating a suspicion to fall upon them; but now, alas it was beyond her control and bitterly she felt another grief – the loss of innocence. She was more important now than the rights of it, and those that would protect the wicked pair revelled in how evil – in a blink – can affect man, woman or child. That all the teachings of the Church, Christian values, amounted to nothing. A feast of evil can easily be disguised by the Lord of Chaos.
‘Hell is far easier to descend to, than Heaven is to ascend!’ The dark and soulless Creature who taunted from the back mocked as the group began to disperse. Niamh was most approving, but the Dowager dared not look at him and felt a little humiliation – as though she be played also.
Bell Baker quickly ushered his friends into the safety of Fi Fi La La’s. Thankfully, Hephzibah had gone, though her father watched all from the corner. Caroline, on seeing him, waved sweetly – to which he almost skipped and tipped his hat with as much dignity as he could manage. He dragged his daughter from the Baker’s window where she sat stuffing her gluttonous face with pastries – and left, a loyal supporter now if only bought by a smile from his heart’s desire.
Caroline quickly closed the door behind the friends. ‘You have much to fear, I am sure –but Reverend, friends, you are safe here until you reach the vicarage, at least whilst I have Lickspittle in my eye.’
Chapter 22
A pretty picture can be made from a weathered house and unkempt garden when it offers some respite – some peace and a time to breathe. Such was the case of Bell Baker’s home and the tired, bone-weary travellers gave a united sigh as the gable came into view, all dressed with ivy and sweet honeysuckle and a regiment of bumble bee in high dudgeon.
‘Well! Quite ridiculous!’ Bell Baker exclaimed. A man on the brink of delivering a soul unto what he knew not – but feverish events begged him be ready – to be ready to bear a soul to whomever it was that watched them. Was it Michael? The angel of Death? Meddler, a simple and pure soul to him, was at the very least connected to some other entity; he was struck by the similarities, the name Malachi!
No, it was too much to not draw conclusions. Sadly, he thought, that if he could save them the pain of losing Reuben he would – but knew that the human soul, so often in such cases where it was truly good, was offered up to be feasted on by any who might dare to sit at the table. Where a greedy Lucifer may feed on one so rich to see, that he prove irresistible – but no, all was not without design! This soul was indeed a weapon – and would poison the Devil that dared, this soul was a weapon of Michael…
Michael who would avenge…
His thoughts made him distant from the conversation that was taking place, a resilient and proud Reuben announced,
‘I am sure this is as good a resting place, as I have ever seen!’
Meddler looked sadly about him, ‘I am glad you like it,’ he choked out – then buried himself beneath his hat. Reuben reddened and took Meddler’s hat from him.
‘A gentle and kind soul you, born in a world you believe owes you no compassion. Yet I see before me one so deserving, with so much heart.’
Harry and his father remained unmoved. Harry in particular seemed to grieve what would pass here, and Meddler was aware that they had lost faith, and that if they never regained it, was not for him to dwell on.
‘Vanity,’ he whispered quietly to himself, ‘is a perch to sit upon when your own delusions of grandeur offer comfort.’
Bell Baker’s particular magic was to join with Reuben in the morbid celebration of his time to pass, and was enviable – never inappropriate or unfeeling. The two seemed quite happy in discussion, whilst three sat solemnly waiting for instruction on how to react in just such a way.
‘Here, my friend, you will find sanctuary!’
Reuben greeted Bell Baker’s news with a roar to the rafters and agreeable grunt. ‘I am sure I shall, Reverend! And feels right – fitting. But let us not discuss another plan!’ he said, as Harry and his father joined them, looking preoccupied.
‘Not another word on what is to be done! I find some peace here, within these tired walls.’
‘And you will find a certain lady too, Reuben,’ Meddler added. ‘Caroline shares this very moment with you and shall be here before long.’
‘Well then – that’s nice, Creature,’ He touched his little friend’s cheek. ‘Though not the company she keeps, ay? Gah! The wait for new beginnings almost chokes me.’ His words were hardly convincing. ‘Any brew, Reverend?’ His voice caught in his throat, dry from acrid words he had to speak.
Bell Baker dipped behind the altar. ‘Never let it be said that a man dry from self-praise will find me lacking in providing relief!’
He threw the bottle to Reuben who whipped off the top and guzzled his fill. ‘Will help cloud my perception and would share if I could, but there is but a drop!’
Harry grabbed the bottle from him. ‘You may want to step down off that plateau, old friend. I’m quite sure gluttony is one of the sins!’
Mr Punch made a valiant attempt to join in Reuben’s toasting of his demise and pending infamy – finding the place replete with fodder fit for the bad as much as for the good. He raised a bottle to his lips. ‘To life, then! Whilst we still breathe!’
‘Aye, old man – well said. So sweet at the end when she would relinquish her hold.’ Reuben threw the bottle to the wall. ‘I’ll enjoy these last few moments with a little clarity, thank you.’ And he bowed before life – the twinkle in his eye belying that he found her still beguiling and worthy of the chase.
Too many thoughts dogged Meddler, and though he scrambled to keep them from the others, he could not. Their faces became more confused – more agonised, but at least, he thought, he could impart reason.
‘And yet,’ Harry spoke, ‘we allow you, Reuben, to take all of this upon your broad shoulders? Not once have we raised our voices to stand beside you, as one – equal in blame, equal in guilt.’
Sadly, he looked to his father. ‘My reason perhaps, as you see an old man before you with not many years left. I do not wi
sh him a violent departure from this world, nor from my mother’s.’
‘If I may,’ Meddler cleared his throat. Objectively speaking, this was pure science – all of which he normally enjoyed the telling of, but not this time.
‘Them blushes, Creature,’ Reuben said, as Meddler flushed uncontrollably. He dabbed his face with a hanky and muttered an annoyance. Harry stared into his soul, daring him to make sense of what he believed was his own cowardice.
‘You see,’ Meddler shrank beneath his gaze, ‘you see, Reuben was privileged enough to be aware, long since, of this turn of events – am I right, old friend?’
‘You are that, Creature.’
‘Another sum?’ Harry remarked, bitterly.
‘I am sorry Harry, but yes it is.’ Meddler could not return his stare, nor look at his dear old friend, Reuben.
‘It is time,’ Reuben said, ‘it is time.’ He slumped on to a bench, head in hands. Meddler gasped at the clarity of thoughts, where he had believed they would be confused.
‘But they are not so clear.’ Meddler heard a whisper on a breath of wind that gently begged him listen.
‘Is your own thoughts that you confuse with theirs – is best – is why man strives for understanding, and why evil shall never be understood by them, but reviled.’
‘Malachi?’ he softly spoke to the ethereal breeze that carried sunbeams upon it, comforting him in a time where he felt truly alone.
‘To understand is to feel infinity.’
And it was gone.
Harry had gone to sit with the Reverend. Mr Punch looked at Meddler. Large black eyes returned a steady gaze and were as comforting as the blackest night devoid of stars, where you might lose yourself. Harry’s father was transfixed, the healing he felt was tangible as it was for the others who witnessed it.
‘I do not mind them so much,’ Harry managed to say, ‘sums, that is.’
But before they had finished with time, it had finished with them.
‘The door!’ Bell Baker exclaimed, as loud angry voices and beating fists demanded an audience with them all.
Reuben braced himself and took Harry’s arm, whilst Meddler stood before the door, before Malachi – ready to die, even if it only a wish so as he rid himself of agonies he felt. For a show of love for his Reuben.
Bell Baker shook as he opened it. Four angry faces made anonymous by the sheer rage and hatred upon them, pushed him aside and Meddler to the floor. Reuben let go of Harry’s arm as they grabbed him, dragging him out for all that had gathered to see. Strange that not a word did they speak. Strange how a spell of madness can render a man mute – as though the very words might bring him to his senses, as though he enjoys it… wonder then, whether anybody, truly is ever out of their mind and whether forgiveness is just.
Reuben roared with laughter – sensibility gone – small mercies. He shook off his shackles and threw all four to the ground.
‘Please! Allow me this!’ And stopped his friends in their path, turning and attacking the first who came at him –and making light work he deposited him into the crowd.
‘I am too fierce yet!’ he cried and swung around as the other three gathered their courage to attack. A terrifying sight he was too, as he reddened with rage and bristled with pride.
‘You!’ he called to one, ‘here, you?!’ And he beckoned him come near – as the man went to run he grabbed him, whacking him firmly on the rear and sending him whelping and crashing into the brush. ‘Back to your mother!’ He laughed, and the other two neatly in his eye, he begged them to try!
With no guts left between them to tackle this raging, giant of a man and with their legs giving way – they escaped into the bating crowd – disappearing into humiliation and infamy. Was only the sly and degraded snake that took up a rock as the other three quaked. With a shrill, piercing scream, he downed the dragon with sickening blow, who slumped to his knees not ready to go… one last roar, one last look.
‘Silly Creature,’ he laughed, then from all he was took.
The quiet that descended was thick and painful, all that could be heard was the sob from a wee creature who knelt beside the slain body of his dragon, his greatest friend. ‘He deserved more!’ he managed to cry, but could not manage more. His friends rushed to his side and Harry took him in his arms and held him close, for both of them.
The sleeping giant lay there for all to see, Meddler by his side – daring any to feel more than their ill-gotten emptiness, and none did.
‘To deliver a soul from a world so lacking is always painful,’ Bell Baker announced, ‘yet this one is particularly distressing. That people I have cherished and included in my homage to the great and good could have become so twisted! Forgive me, for you would not have me say lost ? No, for sure you would not. No need to be a seer to know this – I have not the charity within to attribute this state to you at this time.’
He looked to the Heavens. ‘Sometimes it is not a test! Sometimes you must govern yourselves! For if not, how do we evolve? If there is always a council to tell you that you must obey! But what then if it is not apparent? Do you run amok like Devils unleashed? I tell you that I would not clutch one of you to my breast!’
‘Come on, you,’ Harry took Meddler’s hand, ‘we will carry him inside.’
The saddest face you ever saw looked up from his dragon’s side, ‘It is true, Harry, that I have lost him – but is a temporary loss. For, you see, he finds new worlds exciting and I will follow him, I will follow.’ He attempted a smile but was lost in his agony.
‘No, little one, he is still here – but you must look further to see him, you must imagine, yes? I still think he enjoys this drama – as was a vain old sod!’
Meddler could not be consoled and looked about him at the hanging heads in shadows.‘It is that so many wished him harm, that there was brief ecstasy when he passed. I think that he felt that, that he felt pain over it.’
‘And yet, you of all shall miss him least, ay little one?’ Bell Baker stared him in the eye, a deliverer of souls and perhaps, relief. ‘Blessed,’ he whispered to him, then sighed. ‘If any of you have a mind to help us carry this man to a more sacred place, for was a giant in many ways, you may. Perhaps, here is where forgiveness begins for those who would wish this all different now; though I find none of you worthy in courage, nor heart, and see that you concur.’
Harry took his shoulders and Bell Baker his feet, whilst Meddler slipped beneath him, holding onto his coat. Mr Punch looked at the men who had delivered him from them.
‘The evil now has new victims. My sympathy, Gentlemen.’
Not one could raise his eyes, not one could speak.
But how softly does good overcome evil? For she can twist and turn as well as her dark cousin…For now these pitiable wretches, bewitched but never evil, would become the obscure – who dwelled in a contorted world and who’s each and every lash was to free themselves, but never would they be. Victims yes, but perhaps now of some use – if ever there was a Meddler to apply a little maths to their chaos.
Though where we find another, you may wonder, for this one was just a little tired for now.
Chapter 23
‘He is weightless!’ Harry choked as they lay the slain dragon at the altar.
‘His soul was laden with much treasure,’ Bell Baker spoke in a hushed whisper with reverence and admiration, taking Meddler from his side to stand with him.
‘And now he creates balance!’ Meddler cried, ‘in a land that was in need.’
‘For we have none?’ Bell Baker asked.
‘I do not believe so, Reverend – not now.’
The sun streamed through the stained glass windows, cosseting Reuben’s form – making his wild red beard and hair become fire for one last time.
‘And yet we are far from perfect?’ Bell Baker continued to quiz him, who confusedly replied,
‘Yes, perhaps that is just it.’
Bell Baker sat him down next to him. ‘The balance?’
Aga
in Meddler seemed puzzled, but Bell Baker knew the art well of distracting a grieving soul and seemed to feed on the returning light to Meddler’s eyes.
‘Here!’ Mr Punch tore down a hanging from the walls, rich and resplendent with golden thread and tapestry. ‘If you permit, Reverend – we will wrap him in this?’
‘Of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘A princely shroud for the richest soul!’
A gentle tap at the door revealed a tragedy for all to weep at. Caroline rushed in, stopping at the altar and falling to her knees.
‘Oh lord, I had wished to be here – and then, looking at you, my dear dear friend, perhaps not.’ She touched his head where the blood had stained his fiery hair. Looking round, she could not speak.
‘You brought him much joy, Caroline.’ Meddler stood up and walked to her, taking her hand. ‘Here, please.’ He took a notebook from the Dragon’s pocket. ‘I think he would like you to have this.’ And gently placed it in her hands. ‘You may discover yourself in his words.’
She sobbed, holding it to her heart.
‘It fell from his pocket one visit and I kept it faithfully. I swear I never looked!’
She blushed and smiled. ‘But then I left one of mine for him to find one time.’
Gracefully, she stepped back as Harry and Bell Baker began to carefully wrap him in the tapestry.
Meddler took a long look upon his sage and wild friend. ‘For now at least you say goodnight,’ he whispered, ‘but find you again, I shall.’
And he kissed his stained cheek and stroked his fiery hair, turning about to never look upon him as dead again.
The strange quiet outside was painful. Those that were guilty still stood rooted to the same spot. Bell Baker flung the door open wide,
‘Be gone! There is nothing for you here! No forgiveness and no excuses! You may live your long lives and never again feel the soft touch of the Lord, as he absolves you of sin. Though I am sure, yes positive – that you shall chase it!’ He smiled triumphantly at the four men stood waiting, as he so succinctly put, for divine forgiveness; the fever worn off – the fear setting in; they looked a sorry lot.
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