Eddie covered his ears and head with his arms and squatted down to make as small a target as possible. He waited for the attack, and when it didn’t come, he dared to lift his head and take a peek.
The creature flew up into view and hovered right in front of his nose, naked and male.
Eddie’s eyes crossed.
Shaking its finger at him, the creature squeaked, “Get hold of yourself, you stupid twat! I’m here to help you. If that great white arse knew I was talking to you, he’d swat me dead, so listen up.”
Eddie could only nod. His voice was stuck in his throat.
“There are rules. If you want to get home again, you’ll abide by them.” The creature landed on the edge of the commode, took its penis in hand and urinated into the hole. “Do you have anything to write this down?”
Eddie averted his gaze. He shook his head.
The pixie’s voice had an edge to it, something between disgust and surprise. “No pencil? No paper? What kind of poet are you?”
Eddie shrugged.
The pixie snorted. “You’ll have to memorize it all then. Are you paying attention?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Eddie looked.
The creature sat on the commode’s outer edge, its legs dangling. It lifted its hand; all five fingers extended, and then folded its thumb inward.
“One,” said the pixie. “Neither you nor your friends must eat or drink anything at all while you’re here. No matter how hungry or thirsty you feel, not matter how delectable the treats they offer you. You consume, you’re stuck. It’s as simple as that.” The first finger folded down under the thumb. “Two. The longer you stay, the harder it will be to leave.”
Eddie nodded.
The middle finger joined the first. “Three. Do not fall asleep. When you’re asleep, you’re vulnerable. Who knows what a person could do to you while you’re sleeping. You’re in grave danger here. There are many inhabitants of this isle who would harm you. They would stick a brainivorous beetle up your nose or put a pregnant spider in your ear, just for fun, especially while you’re sleeping.”
Eddie’s eyes widened, and he paled.
Another finger went down. “Four. Do not get separated from your friends. If you separate, you’ll never find one another again, and someone will get left behind. Stick together like ants in honey.” The pixie folded the final finger, and it was holding a fist toward Eddie. He shook it. “Five. If you don’t remember these rules, this is what you’re going to get. You understand me?”
Eddie swallowed.
The pixie observed the boy, hands on knees. “I’ve never been to the other Otherworld. I’ll make you a deal.”
∞
Eddie emerged—pale, but clean—from the wash closet.
The other boys had chewed the situation from all angles. They couldn’t deny that they had a strange and significant dilemma. The best plan any of them had come up with was to wait and see what happened.
What happened next surprised them all.
The door to the room opened, and a princess entered.
First, however, came a stately, black slave dressed as a boy, though he was clearly a girl. She wore azure satin breeches and matching coat over a frilly white shirt that contrasted with her dark skin. Her kinky hair was pulled into ten or twelve puff balls all over her head, each with a different-colored ribbon tied at its base and left to dangle down around her shoulders. She lifted her voice and announced, “Princess Lenore, daughter of King Emric and Queen Victorina of Avalon.”
“Hello, hello,” the young princess said, breezing into the room. She had golden hair that flowed down her back. Her curls were the scrollwork of a master craftsman. A spun-silver band held her hair back from her face, tiny blue birds, no bigger than the end of her thumb, perched upon it. The birds moved with minute jerks, mouths opening and closing, heads dipping and lifting, wings fluttering. Though they appeared to be singing, they made no sound.
The princess’s gown was ethereal, layers of blue, pink and white gauze that hung from an empress waistline. The fabric sparkled with bits of crystal. Front and center, just below her bodice, where French women would have worn a ribbon or silk bouquet, Princess Lenore had a silver flower made of gears with thin mechanical arms that curled and uncurled, sprung and unsprung. They draped down the front of the dress and ended with pincers. These slim, graceful arms picked up and released portions of her skirt in anticipation of her movement. This left the impression that she was standing in a gentle wind. Her skirts never fell still.
The White Pope approached her and took her hand. “Princess Lenore. You are a breath of fresh air.”
“Pope Innocent,” the princess replied with dignity beyond her years, “your generosity takes my breath away.”
The Pope laughed.
Abe murmured, “He sounds like a braying ass.”
One of the pincers on the princess’s dress reached out and caught hold of the White Pope’s tunic. It pulled.
“I wish you-,” the White Pope said, but paused, distracted, trying to disengage the pincer, “a belated happy birthday. How old are you now?”
The princess watched, amused. “Twelve, as you well know. I wouldn’t stand too close, Your Holiness. My dress has a mind of its own.”
“So I see,” said the Pope. He freed himself from the persnickety pincer and backed a few steps away. Mouth puckered, he said, “Wonderful.”
“You’ve brought me some playmates, as promised?” The princess looked over the boys.
“I have!” said the Pope. “Come and meet them.”
Eddie licked his lips. He smoothed his hair.
Abe licked his hand and smoothed his hair with it.
Charlie adjusted his vest and checked that he’d properly closed his pants.
The White Pope swept his arm in a grand gesture. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Princess Lenore of Avalon.”
The boys all bowed, out of synch and each with his own special brand of clumsiness.
“The tall gentleman,” said the White Pope, “is Mr. Abraham Lincoln of Indiana, America. He is the son of a farmer.”
“Mr. Lincoln, welcome to my home,” said the princess.
“Why, thank you, Miss. Princess. I’m honored to be here on this auspicious occasion. Though, I still ain’t clear on how I got here, but at this moment in time, I got no complaints about it. Your hospitality has—”
“Ahem. That will do.” The White Pope cut him off. He indicated Charlie with a wave of his hand. “The blonde with the vest is Mr. Charles Darwin of Shropshire, England. He attends the Shrewsbury School for Boys.”
Charlie said, “I’m studying the natural sciences, especially worms. Did you know, it’s said that when you strike the ground, worms will emerge thinking there’s a mole after them? I’ve begun studies on my own, and I plan to write papers about it. Eventually I’ll go to university and become a doctor.”
The princess laughed. “It sounds like you have a wonderful plan for your career’s evolution.”
Charlie grinned.
The White Pope said, “This is Mr. Edgar Poe who hails from Virginia, also in America.”
“I’m living in… London now,” Eddie sputtered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess L… Lenore.”
Lenore smiled at each in turn. “Tell me, my new friends. What do you think of Avalon?”
They all started to answer at once.
Abe: “It makes me think the impossible is possible, and I ain’t…”
Charlie: “It’s one of Our Lord God’s greatest creations….”
Eddie: “I suspect it will take me years to find words worthy of…”
Lenore laughed, a sound to delight any ear, though it was joined all too soon by the White Pope’s braying.
“Come with me,” said the princess. “I have many things to show you.” She turned on her heel, her skirts twisting tight around her legs, then unwinding with a flare assi
sted by her silver pincers.
When the White Pope picked up Rufus and prepared to follow along, Lenore stopped. “I do beg your pardon, Pope Innocent, but if you don’t mind, I believe I’d like to spend some time alone with others near my own age.”
The White Pope’s mouth opened in near protest, but he closed it before the utterance escaped. He bowed.
The troupe headed for the door, and when they neared it, Rufus let out a wail. All eyes turned to him. He had gone red in the face, and his tears made his cheeks shine.
“Oh dear,” said Lenore. “What’s the matter?”
The White Pope looked apologetic, though his tone had a slight simpering sarcasm to it. “I must beg your pardon, Princess. Rufus feels left out. You go. He will forget soon enough.”
Lenore took a breath, and her regret was written on her face, though no one knew what she was regretting. “He may come along, if you will entrust him to our guardianship for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll take Kushala along. She can see to any needs Rufus has and ensure he doesn’t get lost.” She signaled to the dark-skinned servant girl standing at the ready nearby. “Will that be acceptable, Your Holiness?”
The White Pope appeared ready to object, but changed his mind. He set Rufus on his feet. “I am grateful, Princess Lenore.” He looked harder at Kushala and said, “He is a good boy. He will not give you any trouble.”
Rufus’ tears had drained into sniffles. He stood there, rubbing his bottom where the White Pope had pinched him to make him cry. When Kushala approached, he took the hand she offered and went along with her.
Eddie, Charlie, and Abe collided with each other, all trying to be the one who held the door for the princess. Eddie won. He grinned at her as she passed.
Charlie got knocked to one side, so Abe made it through the door behind Lenore.
Eddie was the last one out, but before he could leave, a firm hand took hold of his arm. The White Pope came nose-to-nose with the boy. “No one must know that you are changelings. If you tell anyone what I told you, they will put the Queen’s Guard on you, and you will be hung out in bloody chunks for the ravens to eat. Believe me.”
Eddie gulped, then pulled free and rushed out the door.
The palace’s opulence caused the boys’ eyes to widen and their mouths to fall open. They stared at the enormous, gold-framed paintings of kings on horseback and queens in their parlors, of knights fighting dragons, and maidens taming unicorns, of giants throwing pieces of castles at one another, and of ladies with butterfly wings dancing naked beneath a full moon. Abe and Eddie stared longest at the latter, though Charlie turned away from it.
“I want to show you the nursery,” said Princess Lenore. “It’s on the other end of the palace. I slept there when I was small. Now I have my own room. There’s a secret passage that will get us there, but you can’t tell Pope Innocent about it.”
The boys promised without reservation.
The pincers on Lenore’s skirt swirled it tight around her, giving her a slim silhouette. When she opened one of the doors on the hallway, the boys saw why. Beyond the narrow doorway, three stairs led up to a slim, velvet-lined landing.
The boys followed Lenore up the stairs and through another door. They emerged into the corridor of a train car. It rattled and rocked as if in full motion. Beyond the windows, landscape flew by in a blustery blur. The boys looked around, shock and surprise showing on their faces. Charlie went back down the stairs, then returned, testing the illusion.
Lenore maneuvered the corridor with ease. She slid open a pair of double doors and disappeared inside. When the boys followed her, they found an enormous sleeper compartment as large as a whole car. It had curtains decorated with three-dimensional violets and a yellow bedspread upon the bed. A table near the windows held pencils, paper, and a small vase of primroses.
“This is my room,” the princess announced. “I chose the décor myself.”
A train whistle blew somewhere in the distance.
Abe grinned from ear to ear. “Gosh, I always wanted to ride on a train.”
“This isn’t a real train,” said Charlie.
“That depends,” replied the princess with a mysterious smile, “on what you mean by real.” She crossed to the far wall and poked a carved goose in the eye. A panel swung open in what should have been an exterior wall, if it had been a real train. The princess said, “This is my private shortcut to the nursery. It’s wonderful when you’re running late for lessons.” She slipped into an unvarnished passageway. The pincer arms pulled her skirt tight.
Inside the passage, the train sounds stopped, as did the rocking.
Eddie asked, voice low, “Are there many of these secret corridors?”
“Oh yes, many; behind all the walls. Sometimes, when Father has an unpleasant guest, I go down the secret passage behind the guest room, and I knock on the wall.” Lenore laughed. “More than one has left in the middle of the night, talking nonsense about ghosts.” She laughed more, and the boys laughed with her.
Lenore flipped a switch, and a gas lamp came to life, casting a flickering glow. At the edge of the darkness, another switch waited. It extinguished the previous lamp and ignited another. Lenore flicked switch after switch. The troupe made fast progress.
“I’m gonna have secret passages,” said Abe. “Someday.”
“Me too,” said Charlie.
Eddie nodded. “Me too. Behind the walls.”
Lenore smiled, though no one saw it.
Eddie glanced over his shoulder then paused. He saw something strange in the darkness they were leaving behind. A sliver of light cut across the passage. Drawn by curiosity, he went back.
The light came from a hole in the wall, at eye level for someone just a bit taller than Eddie. He ran his hand through the beam, breaking it, then he lifted up on tiptoe and put his eye to the hole.
The White Pope was there, in a small sitting room decorated with stuffed mallards and quail, and for a moment, Eddie froze with fear. The White Pope, however, wasn’t looking at him. He was talking to someone in a high-back chair, positioned to face away from Eddie. The White Pope’s eyes gleamed, and he rubbed his hands together.
Eddie could just make out what the White Pope was saying.
“—in over her head. I don’t know what she thought she could do with a hick, a Unitarian, and a melancholiac, but it doesn’t matter now. They’ll soon be trapped here forever, and her influence will be wasted.” The White Pope paused to listen, though Eddie couldn’t hear the other person’s voice, and then replied, “I’ve made all the arrangements. Nothing will go wrong, I assure you.”
The White Pope looked straight at Eddie, crystalline eyes piercing.
Eddie leapt back from the peephole and put his hand over his mouth to keep his cry from escaping. He glanced up the passage, then down the other way. All that remained of the troupe was a dim, far-away glow. He dared not call out to them, so he scurried after them in the thickening gloom.
The darkness amplified all sound. In Eddie’s mind, his shuffles became the thrashings of an injured animal, prey to something larger, stronger and more toothy. Cobwebs and other curious things touched his face, and so it was traumatic when the glow at the end of the passage went out.
Fighting panic, Eddie slowed his steps and felt his way forward, step by step, foot by foot, heartbeat by heartbeat, for what seemed a small eternity. He couldn’t hear the others talking or even their footsteps. He couldn’t hear much at all, other than the sounds he imagined too near and too menacing.
He remembered the pixie’s warning, “If you separate, you’ll never find one another again, and someone will get left behind.” Tears swelled in his throat, and the darkness pressed against his chest making it hard to breathe. He heard rustling and whispering. He doubted his footfalls and placed each step with extra caution. He was loathe to reach his fingers into the unknown, even to search for a gas switch. He thought perhaps he’d be trapped there, within the walls, forever.
He co
uldn’t bear it any more. He stopped in place and took a deep breath, ready to shout.
Then, a light came on ahead and blinded Eddie. He swallowed his cry for help.
“Who?” he managed, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. He perched on the edge of flight, ready to run back down the passage.
There was no answer, but when his eyes acclimated to the light, he found Kushala standing there, watching him. Never had he been so happy to see another being.
Eddie hurried to join her. They said nothing to each other. His emotions were expressed in his wild-eyed gratitude upon seeing her, and her emotions were expressed in the gentle smile that curved her lips. She led him to the nursery.
Charlie Darwin, or The Trine of 1809 (Stories in the Ether) Page 3