“There you go, fellas, I know it is wet, dark, slimy and miserable, but we gotta hurry and save them girls now, too!”
“Aye, Ickety, I think me fancy Carnivalle clothes have seen their better days. The cheery emerald is now a sombre forestry affair.”
“So too, my fine white suit. Its brilliant lustre is a forgotten memory. It is now as dull and drab as the slimy black river from which we have emerged.”
“Yessir, so it is with my white pants, Mr. Eppington, sir. The shirt is toned down a degree or two as well. If my dingle-berry hat did not have a chin strap, I would surely have lost my hat as you two gentlemen have lost your fine head wear, though I must admit, that in its soggy state, the wide-brimmed hat fits more like a bonnet.”
“Ye seem to be having a bit o’ trouble there, Ickety me lad.”
“Get a grip, Temperance old bean.”
“Yessir, that’s what I’m trying to do, but these dang ol’ big ruffely sleeves have lost all their ‘poof’. They now hang down more than a foot past my fingertips in wet clinging double fabric tubes that make it difficult to get a grip on anything, even the most obliging exposed root for support as we struggle to climb out of this dangerous river. If I can just get to where my feet will support me and keep me from sliding back into the River Stynx, then maybe I can do something about it. There we go. With my right hand, I shall wind up the excess material of my poofy sleeved shirt at my left shoulder. Excuse me if my speech becomes garbled as I describe my actions, for I must engage my teeth to hold one end of this wad of sleeve material tight, ras, rI rhen rrap rese roo rends reegetrer roo rie ra rot. There. Now I shall form a loop with the excess material. Roe’rin rah rahreereerall riff ry reef, rI round ree ruh’rer riece ruh’round ree rirst riece thusly and cinch it tight to hold the material up and off of my hand I shall now repeat the procedure using my left hand to wind the baggy material of my right sleeve up to the shoulder. RI rhen...”
“Aye we can see what ye’re doing ye silly fool! There’s no need for a step by step description, ye great twit! Hurry up!”
“Ohhh, bad show, I’m afraid good fellow. Those bowes you have fashioned to hold your voluminous sleeves up off of your hands are disconcertingly effeminate, old sport. Yes, quite. I hate to hurt your feelings old chap, but I have to be honest and forthright with you, you understand. I hope you would do the same for me, old bean.”
“Yessir, them bowes at my shoulders are kinda sissy but I can’t worry about that now, we gotta save Miss Plumtartt, Miss Mimi Ma’am, Officer Smith and the Right Reverend Alonzo Dolomite!”
“Of course, Temperance, old boy, you are correct. Please go on.”
“Yessir. Ya know, we are all so dark and dirty, I can’t hardly see y’all at all.”
“Nor I you gentlemen, my word.”
“Aye, perhaps we can now sneak into their bloody tunnel and makes our pursuits.”
“Aye, I mean, yessir, that’s what I was a thinkin’. Wait a minute. Lemme scuff off the finish of these shiny white shoes. Now that they are down to their bare leather they no longer reflect the intermittent moonlight.”
“Hear, hear, a covert operation. My word, jolly good! Let’s save the world then lads, eh, what?”
“Yessir, we need to gain access to that there ‘Craven Cavern’. Sounds pretty spooky to me, y’all. Mile after mile of twisting turning maze of dark corridors. Pretty easy to get lost in a cave that big.”
“Aye, her lofty ceilings will be supporting untold millions of tons of rock over our heads. I can just imagine all the many wondrous columns of stalactites and stalagmites inhabiting her majestic and expansive halls. Thousands upon thousands of years will it have taken to form the geologic splendor that slowly grows from the seeping moistures in her presumed stunning grandeur.”
“I say, I should think we should be prepared to face bats uncountable. Their centuries of guano will carpet the floors in diseased coatings.”
“Don’t forget that this place will be full of flesh eating walking deceased cadaver corpses.”
“Sh! We’re getting closer. Be very, very quiet.”
“Yessir, Mister Officer O’Hagan. I’ll continue in a hissed whisper. If you were looking directly out of the cave’s entrance, then you might say we were approaching from the Cavern’s left, right? Dang, this sure ’nough is a sheer cliff wall, y’all. The good thing about that is that there is not room but for a few zombies on this side of the gorge at a time. There are beaucoup strolling dead on the other side, but they do not have the bridge fixed yet. Oops! Spoke too soon. They are in the last stages of getting the bridge repaired already! If we don’t do something immediately we will not get another chance like this!”
“Aye! We must seize the initiative! A fast rush to throw the few who have room to work on the bridge project on this side into the chasm before the repairs are made is what we must do and do it now! Charge, m’lads!
“Officer O’Hagan! C’mon, Mister Eppington!”
“Hear, hear! Jolly good show! Let’s really give them what for, eh?”
“Aye! Cries I as I ducks the sweeping arm embrace of one dead toady to shoulder block tackle me following deady off the cliff and into the R-r-r-river Stynx!”
“Pumpernickel! Hah! Jolly good! That one good, stout, English punch was enough to send my ugly opponent on his way to watery oblivion. Yes, my word, indeed. And look at the little Temperance fellow! That’s it old boy! What an unorthodox method of fighting you employ old chap, the way you mix in a few kicks amidst your many punches and a few punches among your many kicks. Look out old bean, your opponent rallies. My word, what an extraordinary counter measure for your oafish opponent in the manner you fell away at the waist and performed a stationary spinning cartwheel maneuver in which you contrived to throw your leg out and catch your aggressive ghoul square upon his chin with your velocity saturated heel. This is enough to send the cadaverous cad tumbling to his further demise from our cliffside toehold.”
“Aye, baughtte dinnae stop now me buckos, for we still have three more ghastly terrors to contend with. Leave ’em to us, Ickety, you drop this bridge laddie and do it praunto.”
“Yesssir! But truth be told, I was all worked up to set her a’light.”
“Baeurn the wicked thing ye paeyrooteknik fyre boog!”
“Thanks to these here handy torches that were used to illuminate the work area, that ol’ bridge is a’burnin’ lickety split. Now come on, y’all, let’s high tail it up these steps in the same manner!”
“Aye!”
“Hear, hear!”
“There be a welcoming delegation arriving to deny us entrance to their ‘Cr-r-r-raven Cavern’, and dispute the right o’ way o’ these stairs. Aye, I say make ready for disputation!”
“Nice throw Officer O’Hagan! That feller cleared the little cliff landing entirely to fall directly into the chasm without contact to a single rock!”
“Hear, hear, another fine toss by our stalwart Constable O’Hagan, though this fellow did manage to make contact with quite a few painful cliffside abrasions, I say.”
“Aye, baughtte now they’re piled up too deep! I cannoot resist their determined downhill tread.”
“We’ll help you, Officer O’Hagan!”
“Hear, hear, Constable!”
“Dang, I’m findin’ their onslaught a mite irresistible!”
“My word, bad show! I too find it hard to muster the strength to defy these unnaturally strong marchers.”
“Aye, I told ye.”
“Quite right, old bean. May I suggest an orderly tactical withdrawal?”
“Aye maybe even a full scale retreat, m’failing buckos?”
“Heck fire y’all, we better skedaddle. We’re about to get ’ett!”
Chapter Eighteen:
Chateau Sku Le’Bizarre
“Well I must say, Skullzy baby, this is a pretty sweet spread you have here. This expansive wood framed plantation manor is so light and airy it looks like its white washed walls are but
a cloud that could blow away in the coastal breeze.”
“Hah, hah, hah, oui, Cross, I am pleased with my fine house. I picked it up cheap after I did away with its previous tenants. It is a satisfying thing to stroll about the porch that encircles the entire manor.”
“Very classy Mr. Sku Le’Bizarre, yes, indeed. I knew I wanted you for a client the moment I set eyes on you. ‘Howie,’ I says to myself, that man needs a lawyer. I am gratified to see my impression of you to be validated. This is a first rate operation, Skullzy baby.”
“Of course, Lawyer Cross, I told you so. You have done well in my employ as Financial Overseer. These many months while I have been cruelly imprisoned in that disgusting, cramped, Los Angelos jail cell, you have shown much competence in the marketing and distribution of my rum.”
“That’s right, S.L.B., why with my legal and management expertise, I’ll make enough wampum to where you and I could go retire to our own private island. Hey, wait, we are already on your own private island. That’s okay with me! The more money the better. You’re sitting on a gold mine here, big guy!”
“Hah, hah, hah. Oui, my wealth and power grow by the day now that I am out of confinement. Notice if you will as we stroll around the four sides of the house, the unending fields of sugar cane extending to distant mountain ranges.”
“The air is filled with a dichotomy of scents, boss. I feel as if two snacking urges are being represented at once in the saltiness of the sea air and the sweet smell of sugar cane as it is being thrashed from its raw essence.”
“Hah, hah, hah. They are both tempting, are they not?”
“I’ll say. It’s a good thing you have this endless staff of dead people walking around to serve your every whim and manage these fields and the accompanying plants. To tell the truth, they kind of creeped me out a little at first, but after awhile, you get used to the ‘life-challenged’ populace. The one thing that does give me the ever-loving heebie-jeebies though, is the occasional earth tremor and intermittent belch of flame and fiery, gooey lava from that over-shadowing volcanoe. Why, I may be endangered by such a calamity!”
“Hah, hah, hah! Queen Tempestia is eager to consume her sacrifice! I shall awaken the slumbering dead from around the world to do my bidding and have my revenge on that traitorous holy man, Reverend Dolomite.”
“Ah, yeah, listen Sku Le’Bizarre, about this murder plan. I would appreciate it if you could keep that end of operations to yourself so that I can maintain ‘plausible deniability’.”
“Ah-No!-Ah! I do not like the sound of this plan! I say to you, Howard C. Cross and VooDoo Mystique, Sku Le’Bizarre, turn me loose-ah! I have no wish to be a part of your diabolical plots! Hallelujah! Eee-Yes!-Ah.”
“Be silent you fool! I shall make you pay dearly for having defied my plans, Reverend Dolomite! Every day and night of my horrible confinement, I dreamed of the torments and vengeance I would heap upon you. The ‘Great Awakening’ that your sacrifice will instigate will help to undo that injustice.”
“Vengeance shall be Mine, sayeth the Lord and I’m with him! Eee-Yes!-Ah. You won’t get away with your foul deeds, Sku Le’Bizarre!”
“Hah! Oh, but I will. Have Reverend Dolomite sit down, Slave Smith.”
“I don’t need any help from this outgrown Okie cop you have under your mystic hypnotism... woah! Okay! I’m sitting down already! Back off Smith, don’t you remember me? We used to almost be friends.”
“My zombie slave formerly known as Officer Keefer Smith does not remember you, Dolomite. He is my VooDoo entranced puppet now! He is under orders to never be more than arms’ length away from you. There is no escape for you, Dolomite. My coptic constable will snatch you up before you can take a step.”
“Well, if I’m really stuck, then how about sharing one of those pineapple mugged pina coladas with a doomed man of the cloth.”
“No problem, Alonzo, baby. I was just about to order a refill for myself. Hey, Skullzy, how about ordering one of the silent but deadly help to mix us up a fresh round of island libation, including ‘the Rev’?”
“Oui, I am in a good mood; make it so! Ahhh, to bask in the flickering light of an excited Queen Tempestia, to inhale the smell of the crops, and enjoy the low moan of miserable, tormented zombie slaves gladdens my cruel heart.”
“It is good to be back on the Island of San Monique!”
Chapter Nineteen:
Rhumme
Chop-chop, rumble-rumble,
skrunch-skrunch, gurgle-gurgle
chop-chop, rumble-rumble,
skrunch-skrunch, gurgle-gurgle
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...through factory door...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...across the floor...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...our march does slow...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...and waugons, hough...”
“...waugons, hough...”
“...unload waugons...”
“...unload waugons...”
“...pull waugons...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
“...pull, pull...”
Chop-chop, rumble-rumble,
skrunch-skrunch, gurgle-gurgle
chop-chop, rumble-rumble,
skrunch-skrunch, gurgle-gurgle
“I say, I think we are alone, my friends. Let us quietly exit our barrels. If one of you gentlemen would mind assisting me, eh, hem? … I say again, eh, hem?”
“’ey! Somebody come gets me outta ’dis bloody barrel!”
“I say, gentlemen, please answer! Kit, Mr. Temperance, Officer O’Hagan, Are you still in our general vicinity?”
“’ey, Oye don’t hear the boys. That’s it, Oye’m getting outta here! Me shapely and powerful gams have yet to fail me. All right, girls, it’s time to liberate momma. Mollusks! Oi! Oye did it! Oye’ve gotten leggy with the keggy and kicked meself free!”
“I say, well, I am not about to be outdone by this Piccadilly Phillie. My ‘Gung Foo’ trained legs and educated feet shall soon free me from my uncooperative cooperage coop. Wah-Hai-Eeyiaw! And ‘At you!’ Yes, there, very good. I say, now that we have each kicked our respective casque to broken staves and hollow hoops and are free of our barrels, let us take stock of ourselves, situation and surroundings, eh, hem?”
Chop-chop, rumble-rumble,
skrunch-skrunch, gurgle-gurgle
chop-chop, rumble-rumble,
skrunch-skrunch, gurgle-gurgle
“Open your eyes you aristocratic buhd brain, we’re in the rum factory, ain’t we?”
“Quite so, Miss Froust. The many pillars and posts of the high ceilinged ramshackle facility provide ready cover that we may investigate the extensive operations without observation nor hindrance from her low-pay, high output employees.”
“Wot’s all the ‘chop, chop’ business Oye hear, eh? It’s coming from over here. Oye’ll just sneak up from behoind this pile of sacks. Eek! It’s a huge room full of the demonic devils! They’re in the throws of a berserker rage and killing frenzy!”
“My word, you are right, Miss Froust! To an extent, in any case. More than a hundred of the unfortunately stricken with life, dead individuals are hacking away with their machetes. The objects of their bloodlust, though, are stalks of sugar cane. These brutes are chopping the produce into little pieces.”
“Well then, Persephone Plumefartt, Oye can see what the �
��rumble, rumble’ is. It’s the turning treadmills of endless conveyor belts. Hundreds and hundreds of cloth belts on spindles convey their rolling energy to other spindles and yet more lengthy spinning cloth belts. These treadmill conveyors are carrying the chopped up stalks to this super ultra jumbo sized extended clothes wringer, only instead of wringing water from clothes, this machine is squeezing and crushing the juice out of the chopped up cane wiff a disconcerting ‘skrunch, skrunch’ accompanying sound. The rollers of this wringer are also turned by means of belt conveyed energies. Oye wouldn’t want to gets me finguhs caught in those terrible flattening rollers. What’s that sound o’ falling rainwater coming from? Oh, it’s the product of all this squeezin’ being gathered in these great wooden funnels wots feeds inta dis pot below.”
“I say, what a peculiar green hue these vast vats of gooey sugar juice have. Let us maintain our stealth as we follow our industrious guides to the next part of the process. Good show. Nothing is allowed to go to waste as the depleted stalks are now used as fuel to fire the great pots, that bring our juices to a suitable boil, eh, hem? This then, it would seem is our ‘gurgle, gurgle’, as it were. Yes, eh, hem.”
“What are these fiends doing wiff these bubblin’ pits o’ pitch? You could tar the hull of a thousand ships wiff all this gloop!”
“Perhaps I can gain a sample of a cooler section of this potent pudding. Mmm, yes, as I suspected; molasses. The process of boiling and distilling of the blackstrap eventually yields the product of ‘pyrate drink’, or, rhumme.”
“Oye guess that’s wot all these boiler furnaces are about den, eh? Generating steam to run the vapors through these twirley copper tubings.”
“Yes, Miss Froust, all the energies are being driven in that one primary focus. There is no steam being diverted for the purpose of turning our spindles, belts, conveyors, and most importantly, the wringer rollers of implacable pulverization.”
“Oye thinks there’s a engine of some kind in the center of the building, wots animates the trolleys throughout the works. Oye can hears it as it toils in its inhuman labour. That’s funny, Oye don’t smell any fires or hear a hiss of steam from this area. Oye don’t thinks this motorvator is fueled by cane or coal. What brute force could drive this energetic production?”
The Measure of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 6) Page 12