Lord Morgan's Cannon

by MJ Walker

  The animals reached the rear of the house. The gardens were much bigger than they appeared from the track. Extending from the regular brickwork of the house was a conservatory, a large room of glass walls with a glass ceiling, each pane held by a thin strip of painted white metal. Inside the conservatory was a single leather armchair with a deep cushion and reclining back punctuated by leather buttons. The chair faced the garden. Next to it was a small tall circular table atop a single stand. A thick glass rested on top of the table, containing a small measure of port. Doris paused for breath.

  “Where do you think we are?” she said to no one in particular.

  “This is Lord Morgan’s castle,” said Edward with conviction, as he started to button his waistcoat and pat his fur.

  The anteater joined them, but his mind drifted as a bright violet oil beetle scurried between a clump of clover in the grass.

  “How do you know that?” asked Bessie, landing on Bear’s head. “How do you know that?”

  “Think about it,” said Edward.

  He bounced over the grass to a wooden bench and clambered atop. He opened his palms and spoke to the others. The terrier had joined them now, and cocked his head as Edward talked about him.

  “This is Lord Morgan’s dog. And this is his garden. So this must be Lord Morgan’s castle!”

  “Is this where the big cannon is?” gasped Doris.

  Ignoring her, the dog yapped.

  “He’ll see you,” said the terrier.

  “The men can’t see us now,” chortled Edward, spinning atop the bench in glee.

  “Not the men. Him.”

  “Who are you talking about?” asked Bear, as he tried to concentrate.

  “Lord Morgan,” said the terrier. “Tea has just finished. He’s about to retire to the conservatory.”

  Doris looked back at the empty seat in the glass house. The chair pointed straight at them.

  “He sits there at the same time each day,” said the dog. “He’ll see you.”

  “Oh good,” said Doris.

  “We can ask him about the cannon,” said Bear.

  “No, he’ll make you do things,” said the dog. “You have to get out of sight.”

  “Where do we go now?” said Edward.

  “This way,” said the dog.

  He turned and ran towards a shorter hawthorn hedge that appeared to be the end of the garden. The animals followed, unsure of themselves. The dog disappeared around the corner of the hedge. He was leading them into a maze, a perfect series of decreasing concentric circles forged from dark green clipped woody bushes.

  Doris entered. She became claustrophobic, her bulk barely fitting. But on she went following the dog and monkey round the curving path as the anteater clipped her heels. Bessie tried to fly above, but she almost lost sight of the others as they hurried deeper into the maze, turning left then right, trusting the dog. So she alighted on Doris and tried to clear her dizzied little head. Only Edward had the nous to map their route. He registered every run and turn, realising there was only one way in, and one way out.

  Their journey ended in the middle of the maze, as they spilled into a clear circle littered with moss and fallen pinecones. Doris embraced the space and trotted around the edge, using her trunk to feel above the hedge as Bessie found a perch.

  “What is your name?” Edward asked the fox-terrier.

  “They call me Tony,” the dog answered.

  “That’s a nice name,” said Doris. “Do you like it?”

  “I’ve never thought about it,” said the dog, perplexed.

  “Do you live here? In these hedges?” asked Bessie.

  “I live in the house. With him.”

  “Don’t you live in a cage?” said Bear.

  “No, I live in the house.”

  Tony the dog sat on his back legs, which stuck out to the side under his belly.

  “I live inside too,” said Edward. “These others live outside. They’re not allowed under a human roof.”

  The monkey dashed over to the dog and pulled at his white whiskers, hoping to start a game. Tony didn’t understand. He sat in the middle of the maze, watching Edward dance a jig, considering how it had come to pass that he had let four foreign animals on to his territory. How he had shepherded them from the humans he served, and how he’d hidden them from his master. He examined the giant anteater, trying to work out if Bear was an exotic breed of dog, or a hairy long-nosed pig. He wondered if Doris was a giant cow. He knew Edward was a monkey, as he’d seen those before outside of a circus, and he didn’t think much at all of Bessie. But he couldn’t decide what to do next.

  Doris decided for them all.

  “I’m tired,” was all she said.

  She let out a huff and dropped on to her front knees. She lowered her rear and then slumped on to her side, unable to control her weight any further. Her trunk fell loose and her head hit the ground as all four legs flicked up into the air in a cloud of dust.

  She closed her eyes and belched a bellyful of gas, which stank out the maze. She fell still and appeared to go to sleep. The anteater sighed. He could feel the strap of his spectacles pulling tight and a headache coming on. He settled into Doris and curled into a giant fur ball, his tail covering half his body. Bessie looked up to see the first stars peeking through a dark grey sky.

  “I have to go,” said Tony the terrier. “He’ll know I’m gone.”

  “Show me the house,” said Edward. “I don’t want to sleep out here.”

  “You can’t come in!” said Tony. “That’s not allowed.”

  With that he raced down the only path exiting the circle.

  Edward sat there for a moment. He picked up a pinecone and shook it, wondering if any seeds might fall out. He couldn’t see any water to drink or branches to settle in. He shrugged his shoulders and decided that he must sleep indoors. So he took off and followed the dog, retracing his steps perfectly through the maze until he popped out and on to the lawn. In the fading light he saw the tall figure of Lord Morgan beckoning Tony the terrier into the conservatory. Lord Morgan sat in the leather chair as his dog leaped on to his lap and pawed at his belly. Lord Morgan stroked the dog, then his own beard as he gazed out into the twilight.

  Edward surveyed the lawn between him and the conservatory. He’d faced bigger challenges he thought. Reaching the house would be no harder than slipping into the clairvoyant’s wagon to steal from her pot of snuff. Back at the circus, everything was done to a daily routine. After rehearsals, while the circus boys and girls were resting before the evening’s show, Charity the clairvoyant woman would sit on the steps of her wagon, playing with her cards. She’d arrange the deck precisely, then her hair and clothes, readying herself for her consultation in the Ring Master’s wagon, and then the first punters. It was Charity’s job to pick up the early arrivals and sell them a reading, generating money for the circus while keeping them out of the Big Top until the start of the show. Edward knew this. So whenever he fancied a pinch of snuff for his nose, he’d climb along the top of Charity’s wagon and leap down on to her lap, spilling her cards and hair. As she swiped him away, cursing, he’d bolt behind her back into her boudoir, where unnoticed he’d pick at the small silver tin she always placed next to her hairbrush. Edward even learned not to take the snuff straight away and be betrayed by his sneezes. He’d stuff a little in his waistcoat pocket, saving it. Then just before his big entrance in the Big Top, he’d shove it up his nose and experience the most wonderful feeling, a joy better than biting down on a mustard seed.

  Lord Morgan tipped Tony the dog off his lap and stood. He had removed his jacket, sporting a black waistcoat and white shirt. Edward could just see the glint of a pocket watch and chain. Lord Morgan walked to the glass, looking out across the garden. Edward didn’t move. Lord Morgan opened the conservatory door and stepped out. He arched his back, gulping the evening spring air, then returned inside, opening a box upon the wooden table.

  Edward seized his opportunity. He pu
shed his red bowler straight and scampered on to the lawn. As he ran, a barn owl swooped down above his head. At the last second the owl realised Edward was bigger than a house mouse. The owl pulled up, perplexed by the strange animal running below and the hat it was wearing, and silently banked for the trees.

  Lord Morgan fiddled in the box. He selected cutters and a cigar and snipped the end. He flicked a match and lit the tobacco, a swirl of grey smoke tickling his face. He turned back to face the garden and puffed. Edward froze. He was some twenty feet from the glass, exposed. If he moved, he would surely catch Lord Morgan’s eye. If he stayed, he knew he would in time be seen.

  He then remembered something the Ring Master had taught him; the art of deception. Edward had to become something normal, expected. The monkey flicked up his tail, pulling it over his back. He crouched, dipped his head and sat on his rear. He pulled in his arms and pretended to nibble at something in his fingers.

  Lord Morgan took another puff on his cigar, the smoke rising in front of his eyes. He took one last look at his garden and chuckled at the squirrel he’d thought he’d seen frolicking in the fading light. He ambled into the conservatory passing through a set of curtains and out of sight.

  Edward dashed for the conservatory door and jumped over the terrier now sleeping on the hard stone floor. He climbed up Lord Morgan’s chair and leaped from the top up on to the curtain rail. He swung his body from the pole and upside down he peered through the curtains. He could see Lord Morgan walking down a long hall, his tall figure and serious expression reflected in a mirror at the end.

  Edward chuckled to himself at how easy it had been to get inside. He dropped from the rail, landing perfectly on all fours. He pushed through the curtains and just as he entered the circus each evening, he skipped into the bowels of Lord Morgan’s house.

  His feet and hands struggled on the polished pink flagstones, but he made it under a console table, holding its elegantly carved legs as Lord Morgan entered another room at the end of the hall, shutting an oak panelled door. He saw a coat stand made of iron and Lord Morgan’s hat hanging from a hook. He wanted somewhere warmer to sleep, something like the cushioned seats inside the Ring Master’s wagon.

  Edward scurried left into the first room he reached. It was a big square room with a high ceiling and gas lamps hanging from the walls. On one side, a wooden chair was placed neatly behind a large heavy-set desk covered in papers. A half-smoked cigar sat in an ashtray. Behind the desk, shelves covered the wall, almost reaching the ceiling, and books filled the shelves. Paraphernalia that Edward did not recognise littered the other side of the room. Standing next to the window was a narrow, tall cage, but its bars were too far apart to confine a budgie or parakeet. Its base was littered with empty peanut shells. A wooden globe floated inside a frame, the coastline of the new Republic of Brazil facing the desk.

  Along the opposite wall was a long table, made of softer wood but varnished. Ordered atop was a row of leather straps, some collars and a jar of chopped carrots and celery. There was a wooden board, with four metal pins nailed into it, forming a square. Next to the board was a fabric wallet, opened, and out of the wallet poked the top of a metal hook, a magnifying glass and a sharp scalpel.

  Edward rubbed his little arms and jumped on to the long wooden table. He picked out some vegetables from the jar and ate them as he noticed a large painting facing the window. In the painting was a human, a man with a greying beard, wearing a long red robe lined with white fur that Edward liked. On the man’s head was a large black soft cap, with a golden tassel. The man stared out of the painting, proudly holding a scroll in his hands. The man looked like Lord Morgan, Edward thought.

  The monkey searched for somewhere to sleep. The house was cold. There were no cushions in the room and no curtains, the window bounded by shutters. He thought about returning to the conservatory and sleeping stretched out along the curtain pole there, above it all. Then he saw an open shoebox at the edge of the table. He totted over and was excited to see the box had been lined with goose feathers. He climbed in and pulled some feathers under his head and bowler hat. He tugged at his waistcoat, making it comfortable, and pleased with himself, he closed his eyes. He was too tired to sleep as a monkey should, on its haunches, sitting upright, catching fitful bursts of rest while keeping half a brain alert to predators. Instead, he settled in to the best bed he had ever encountered, determining to build his own one day. Within moments, Edward the pin monkey was dreaming of running his own circus.

  The Cannon

  Edward stirred, as an early ray of morning sunshine caught the box, warming it. He came to and sucked his thumb as he had as a baby, clinging to his mother’s chest, buried into her fur. He opened an eye, thinking he’d heard a noise, then closed it again, nestling into the feathers.

  He heard another noise, this one closer. He opened both eyes. Before he could lift his head, two huge hands clamped round his body, sending Edward into an instinctive, involuntary frenzy. The monkey squirmed and screamed, as he flailed his arms and bared his teeth trying to bite whatever he could. He kicked his little legs and even tried to grasp his oppressor with his tail as he was lifted into the air.

  He was turned and brought face to face with Lord Morgan, dressed in a cotton nightshirt.

  “Well, well,” said Lord Morgan, leaning in, hair and beard shaggy and unkempt.

  Edward’s mind whirred as his body fought. He couldn’t focus and was unsure if he was still dreaming. He felt Lord Morgan’s hands tighten around his ribcage and he clawed at the man’s skin. He was then transported high above the table. His legs dangled above the leather straps and collars and the wallet holding the scalpel as the professor spoke to him.

  “Now where did you come from?” asked Lord Morgan.

  The human grinned, showing a line of teeth as white as Doris’s tushes. He turned Edward left then right, twisting him in his hands.

  “You’re a New World monkey aren’t you?” he said, examining Edward’s tail. “Maybe a tamarin? I’ve been hoping to get something as exotic as you.”

  Edward began to settle. He knew he couldn’t fight his way out, so he pushed against Lord Morgan’s fists, kneading them with his own, probing for a weakness in his grasp.

  “No, your hair is too short,” Lord Morgan said, addressing Edward directly.

  Lord Morgan stank of tobacco smoke, a smell that frequently lingered on the Ring Master’s shirts. Edward also detected the familiar odour of stale alcohol in his breath.

  “You’re a capuchin. But which kind?”

  Then suddenly, Lord Morgan stretched out his arms, holding Edward at a greater distance.

  “And why are you wearing a hat and waistcoat?”

  The human carried the small one-foot-tall monkey across the room to the tall cage. Lord Morgan reset his fingers around Edward and passing him into one hand, he flicked open the door of the cage. He pushed his arm carrying Edward deep inside and dropped Edward close to the cage’s floor. Edward landed on his rump, bruising it. He screeched as Lord Morgan slammed the door of the cage shut, locking it. Edward sat there, dazed, looking up at his captor, who stared down at him.

  Lord Morgan pushed back and flattened his brown hair, then walked out of the room, announcing he was off to eat some eggs for breakfast. Edward ran to the bars of the cage. Each was silver and cold to the touch, running straight and true up to a domed silver roof. Metal wires circled the cage, binding the bars together. Edward took a bar in each hand. He shook them. He pushed one arm through the gap between and managed to get his shoulder out. He pushed his feet into the hard floor, driving himself on, but then his head met the bars, and wouldn’t pass through. He turned his head, so his ears didn’t catch, but this time his nose did. He realised the gap between the bars was just smaller than the width of his skull, with his little hat on top. He climbed up the bars easily and pushed at the roof, which didn’t move. He tried the front of the cage and the back nearest the wall. He then attempted the door.

 
; He spotted the hinges, noticing the door opened a little when he pushed it. He slowed down his actions, examining them, looking for a cause and effect. He pushed again and realised that a bolt rested across the outside of the door and that the bolt might be within his reach. He moved across the cage and reached his arm through and around the bars, fishing for the feel of the bolt. Just as he felt the bolt in his grasp, the door to the room swung open. In marched Lord Morgan, now wearing a shirt, trousers and braces.

  “I’ve got it!” cheered Lord Morgan. “You’re the pin monkey from that circus! The one that almost burned it down!”

  He crossed the room to the cage and peered in at Edward, who had moved away, cowering on the floor.

  “My god, you’re a monkey that’s escaped the circus. I’ll have to keep you a while.”

  And with that, Lord Morgan took out a small padlock and key from his pocket. He ran it through a hole in the bolt and snapped it shut. He returned the key to his pocket, condemning Edward to the cage.

  Doris arose first, her rumblings and grumblings waking Bear and Bessie in the middle of the maze. She kicked out with all four legs, struggling to right her frame. Bear quickly unfurled his tail and danced away as Doris made it on to her knees. Befuddled, she flapped her ears. She scooped a little dirt from the ground and blew it in a cloud over her back. As the grains fell about them, Doris noticed Edward was missing.

  The three animals agreed that Edward must be somewhere in the maze. So they set off to find him. It took a few moments for Bear to locate the exit from the circle and a few moments more for Doris to make it around the first corner of neatly planted hedgerow. After that the animals found it quite easy to walk in a line down each path, until they faced a choice of where to go next. And they found it quite easy to take whichever path smelled the prettiest. Turning round in the tight confines of the maze was impossible for Doris, but then she saw no need to go backwards. Edward must be somewhere up ahead, they reasoned.