“Oh, I wish there were’nt no monster stalking these here empty lanes. I don’t want to get ette up by no Dr. Ickle, ner ravaged by no Spring-Heeled stripper.”
“Maybe whistling will help me to not be scared.”
~whistle-whistle-whistltey-whistle~
“Oh, that there wind in them autumn trees bare limbs and scrabbly dry leaves is as spooky as a sorrowful ghosts mournful moan.”
~whistle-whistle-whistltey-whistle~
“Golly, I’m suddenly kind of filled with a trepidation. It’s as if the hand of a primal fear has clutched my heart in its frozen grip, filling my little pumper with a cold and nameless dread.”
~whistle-whistle-whistltey-whistle~
“Oh, Goodness, I’m lonesome. I wish I had someone with me so I did not have to talk to myself.”
Oh, I think I see my person of contact. That jerk of his head indicates that I should go to him. I sure am happy to see a friendly face, even if that face does have a long, livid scar running across its cheek.
Oh, good, he’s standing up to meet me. With his right foot forward he extends his right hand in an invitation to shake hands. His left hand is tucked behind his back to complete the formal posture and stance.
“Howdy there mister. Boy, am I glad to see you. Do you have my next assignment?”
“Indeed, Mr. Temperance, ...”
Says my tall friend with a disturbing leer as he snatches my hand, crushing it in an iron handshake.
“... I do!”
The salty scarecrow yanks me to him as he simultaneously pulls a knife from behind his back in a stabbing motion to my innards.
Only my friendly two-handed grasp what I took ahold of his hand with, lets me turn the blade. This affectionate grip allows me to snap out his wrist and arm, foiling the stab. My left hand forms a fulcrum on the back of his wrist as I turn his palm up, towards Big Ben’s steeple. A good shove on his fingers with the butt of my right hand puts Big Skinny on his heels.
“Dang mister, you nearly stuck me! Shame on you, you’re still trying to stick me! You need to stop all that mean stabbing! You can back-peddle away from me all you want, but I ain’t letting go for nothing nor nobody. Drop that ugly pig-sticker of yours!”
“Ow, wow-wow-wow! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Please let go, you’re killing me, matey!”
“Nossir, It ain’t about me letting go of you, it’s about you letting go of that notched, old, black blade you tried to skewer me with. Now quit trying to back away to alleviate your discomfort and drop that knife or I’ll really crank it to you.”
“No, shipmate, please don’t make me drop me knife, it’s me most precious of personal possessions.”
“I know how it is to get attached to one’s things. I got me an old set of pliers, I wouldn’t trade for a box of new ones, but you are dropping that sticker, mister.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll behave. Though it breaks me heart, for me mother herself gave me that lovely blade, when I was just a wee little innocent lad.”
“Gee, your mom gave you that ugly knife?”
“Oh, aye, shipmate, aye. Of course me dear, dear, saintly mother, bless her weeping heart, did so want me to be a good honest seaman. She said, ‘Azreal, here is a good honest sailor boy knife for you. Now you run along and grow up to be a good little sailor boy and make me proud’. Oh, but I am ashamed to see what a wreck of an old sailor I have become; forced to do evil deeds to good honest lads like yourself. Why, you remind me of that image of what me dear mum had in mind for her boy to grow to be. How I wish that you and I could go back in time and start again. With a good honest lad like yourself by me side, I’m sure I would have kept an even keel. Alas, you have a powerful hold against me. Me ship has run aground. Alas for me, and alas, all the more, for me poor mum, for somehow, someway, I know in me heart, that somewhere, she weeps.”
“Gee...”
“Oh, cruel, cruel Fate, you have left me as helpless as a leaf, rudderless and tossed upon the waves, at the whimsy of this mean and miserable world. Wouldn’t you consider giving a break to a poor, honest seaman what’s lost his way in these troubled times?”
“I don’t know...”
“I can imagine me poor, departed mum, looking upon you this instant. Aye, you are the sort of lad she had hoped would be her baby boy.”
“Gee, you really think so?”
“Aye, me bosom shipmatey. Oh, if only I could have been a wee bit more like you, little Ichabod, then maybe me poor mum would not have passed from a broken heart.”
“Gosh.”
“Let me go, Cap’n, I’ll keeps me sails furled tight and chart an honest course from this day forward, you may lay to that. If you don’t want to do it for a poor, repentant, disabled, naval veteran, then do it for me poor, poor, wretched mum, what’s gone to her grave, worried with the love for her wayward child?”
“Well, sir, I do have a lot of respect for military veterans. Now, you promise not to stab me again?”
“Aye, aye, Guv’nor! I promise, I promise! On me mum’s grave, shipmate!”
“And not just me, you gotta promise not to go around and stab nobody else, neither!”
“Oh, I promises, shipmate, Oye promises. No more stabbings for me! No, governor, I’m done with the dirty, shameful business I am!”
“That’s good. Well, if you promise...?”
“Aye, aye, shipmate!”
“I reckon that’s good enough. Hey, wait a minute, I know what’s going on!”
“No, no, there’s a big misunderstanding!”
“You must be trying to emulate the dreadful Dr. Ickle! You are a Jackie the Spring-Heeled Stripper copy-catter!”
“Hunh? I mean, yeah, I was going to pretend I was the Park Bench Butcher. Sure, that’s it. It’s uh, a good thing you stopped me before I, uh, er, hurt anyone.”
“Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that.”
“Sure, shipmate, sure. It’s not too late for me to be that proud little sailor boy me mum always envisioned.”
“Gee...”
“All you have to do is let me go, Ichabod.”
“I don’t know....”
“Please?”
“Well....”
“Shipmate?”
“I suppose. There you go.”
“Ah... Thank you, Ichabod. Oh, me poor arm.”
“You gonna be all right, mister?”
“Oh yes, the feeling is quickly returning to me abused extremities. I’ll be right as rain in short order, mate, not to worry. Just, uh, how about returning that knife, matey.”
“Hee, hee! Ain’t nobody ever called me ‘matey’ before. Well you turned out to be a nice guy after all, and not the Park Bench Butcher. It’s a good thing I came to this park and not Professor Diddlefudde. But what if Professor Diddlefudde shows up and the real Park Bench Butcher/Dr. Ickle/Jackie the Spring-Heeled Stripper is there? Oh my Goodness, I’ve got to hurry there and save him! Here’s your knife. Bye, mister! Oops, I mean, see you later, matey!”
~ * * * ~
“Yoo, hoo? I say, Mr. Temperance? Are you here, sir?”
~knock, knock, knock~
Hmmm, Ichabod’s hat and galoshes are not present. One must extrapolate that Mr. Temperance has left the building. Though I loathe the prospect, I shall have to inquire as to my Ichabod’s whereabouts from Professor Diddlefudde.”
~knock, knock, knock~
“You, hoo? I say, Professor Diddlefudde, are you in the office?”
It appears to have been vacated, much in the same manner as Mr. Temperance’s office. Hello, what’s this? A discarded note is carelessly tossed upon the floor. It is addressed to Professor Christopher Diddlefudde. He is directed to rendezvous with a government operative on a park bench meeting? I can only suppose that Ichabod has been sent on a similar errand. I must hurry to Diddlefuddde and find out where Mr. Temperance has been sent before it is too late!
~ * * * ~
“A fine activity this is for a Professor of my excessive credentials and
intellectual capacity. Why do I not have servants to see to mundane things such as these tedious bureaucratic affairs? Do I look like I have time to be schlepping around some deserted park after dark? I am in the middle of a trial study that could get me mentioned in many notable journals. These government types are the bottom feeders of the human socio-political stratum. Even that Temperance boy rates higher. Why should I have to haul my lumbering carcass around this endless park, looking for this cubicle monkey? I should be making the time with a cutie, like that hot little number, alone on that isolated park bench. Hello, you gorgeous slice of female, you haven't seen any low-browed, govern-cratic, uber-stooges around here, have you?”
“Aye, Professor Diddlefudde, I am the stooge in question. I hope that I do not live up to your low expectations.”
“You know who I am? You are my secret contact? Wowza, let me get a look at you! Oh, boy, would that all government operatives look like you, baby, I’d be asking for fresh assignments every day! You are my kind of bureaucrat, honey, let me tell you! You are built like a leather ocean-liner, honey! That eye-patch goes with your raven black hair most fetchingly, my srcumpadoodle girl.”
“Thank ye’, Professor, I am flattered that me rigging passes muster. I must say, you are not what I expected. I had no idea you would be such a big, tall, and attractive vessel. I normally meet with so many men of inferior intellects. It is refreshing, almost, titillating, to be speaking with a man of your wide-spread fame for, ... intellectual prowess.”
“Oh, baby, you are making me crazy! I want you for my next lab assistant! Oh, what experiments I would do with you. What am I saying? Look at that leather get up! What experiments I would let you do with me!”
“Ha, ha, ha, oh, Professor, behave yourself. We must remain professional, you and I.”
“What’s with behaving in a professional? Let me show you some unprofessional behaviour, girlie girl!”
“But, I’m just supposed to give you your orders...”
“Come on, you know you want it. Please? Just one little kiss?”
“Well, I don’t suppose one little kiss will hurt, Christopher.”
“Call me Professor.”
“Of course, darling, my handsome Professor dearest. Just stand still, close your eyes, and I will give you the embrace of a lifetime. An intimacy that will stay with you until death.”
“Sounds good, honey, lay it on me in a big way!”
“Are your eyes closed?”
“Yeah, baby, yeah!”
“Then. Here. It. I...”
“Howdy, y’all. Hey, is that you, Professor Diddlefudde? Who’s that you got with you?”
“Ichabod Temperance!!!”
“What are you doing here?!?”
“Hey, that was cute! Y’all said that in unison! How did y’all do that?”
“Azrael was supposed to have done you in! Oops, I mean, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure, sir.”
“Temperance, what are you doing? I was getting along just fine with this girl until your untimely arrival.”
“I’m sorry Professor, I thought you were in danger from the Park Bench Butcher.”
“The what?”
“Dr. Ickle?”
“The who?”
“Jackie the Spring-Heeled Stripper?”
“Her I like! Tell me more!”
“I don’t think you understand. There have been articles in the papers...”
“Papers?!? I have no need for tawdry papers. I get enough fluff in the scientific journals. Do I need it from these yellow journo-ed scandal rags? Do I look as if I care about your feckless stories of celebrity mischief? Unless they are of the most scintillating and sinful nature, I have no interest.”
“Scuttle the poop and sand the decks, it appears I must lay both targets low meself. Arr, the rule of thumb is to disable the larger target first, but me thinks I will break with tradition in this instance and ram the skiff under me keel.”
~Slish! Slash! Thrust!~
~Swish! Swash! Stab!~
“Woah, hey lady, be careful with that knife. You almost cut me, five or six times already!”
“Belay ye’re twitching and stand still, you horrid little man, me depth perception is noughtte what it ought to be.”
“Yes, Ma’am, that’s understandable. I think that’s the only thing that has saved me throughout this unending knife assault.”
“Temperance, you fool! I was almost to first base! Can’t you see this fetish-clad cutie has the hots for me and wants you to leave?”
“I’m sorry, Professor, I thought maybe she was going to kill you.”
“Does it look like she is trying to kill me? Obviously, she is trying to kill you for being such a Buttinsky.”
“Argh! I’ll stay me siege on the wee lad, and concentrate on this fat galley, instead. Aye, argh.”
“Eep! Blast you, Temperance, now she wants to kill me! Eek!”
“Oh no you don’t, lady! I’ll save you Professor!”
“Unh! Her-reerll! You filthy little man! How dare you waylay me with that unworthy broadside attack!”
“If you have to attack a broad’s side, yours would be the one I’d go for, honey.”
“Thank you, Professor; nonetheless, I shall be along to address your needs once I have disposed of this unwanted stow-away.”
“Sounds good to me, honey.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I think I like what I meant.”
“Hah! That was one slash too many, lady. I was able to time your swing and step in to take control of that hand. With this sneaky duck under your arm I can bring a terrible pain to your joints forcing you to...”
“Arrr!”
“Augh! What is wrong with you, Temperance? You just forced that Heavenly hunk of woman to flip forward to prevent your breaking her arm.”
“But she is trying to kill us!”
“And whose fault is that? I was doing fine until you showed up.”
“But she started it!”
“No, she didn’t; you did! Hey, did you hear that? I hear someone coming,”
“Yeah you’re right, It’s Miss Plum...Woah!”
“Are you happy now, Temperance? Having flipped you over her shoulder while you were distracted, that one-eyed Jill has disappeared into the night. You fool, do you realize what you have done? That is the closest I have come to scoring in years!”
“I’m sorry, Professor.”
“Yoo, hoo? Professor Diddlefudde? Are you about, sir?”
“Well, when one cab leaves, another shows up. Hellooooo, Persephone, I’m right over here, honey-baby.”
“Ah, good, there you are, Professor. I was wondering if you had seen Mr.... Mr. Temperance! There you are. I have been looking for you sir.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, it’s just that I was worried for Professor Diddlefudde’s safety. That’s on account of a meeting I was sent on ended with a tall, rough old sailor man with a long scar across his face almost stabbing me. I figured he was trying to be like Dr. Ickle, which got me to worrying about Professor Diddefudde and his park meeting. When I got here, he was just about to hug a black haired woman in tight leathers and an eye-patch. She didn’t care none for me cutting in, neither. She got mad and tried to knife me and Professor Diddlefudde both. Now she’s run off.”
“Hmm, this curious intelligence is most valuable.”
“Hey, if curious intelligence is your thing, I’ve got plenty over here, baby.”
“Now you behave and talk nice around Miss Plumtartt, Professorrr, orrr, orrr, orrrr, rile rhett... angrrrrr... angrrrr... Bleh-Rargh!”
“Ha, ha! Success! Finally, the serum is starting to work! Did you see that? You can actually see the bones moving and realigning themselves beneath his skin! It is like some sort of photo exercise, where grass is seen to grow very quickly. I can actually see the follicles sprout and the coarse hair suddenly spread like black wildfire. Now he is running away. He scampers like a primate, down the
street and up the side of that building. Tartt-tartt, do you know what this means?”
“I am afraid that I do.”
“That’s right! My experiment is a success!”
~ * * * ~
“Ha, ha! You look fantastic, Nichodimus! You are going to get that Dr. Ickle tonight, I am sure of it! Ha, ha!”
“Thanks, Dipsy, I hope you’re right.”
“Come here, Big Nick, I wants to give you a big sloppy kiss for luck!”
“I’ll take that kiss, but Scotland Yard has engineered a manner of developing its own luck. We have a system of rooftop watchers, all on the lookout for our target. These watchers are equipped with instantaneous voice communication devices. It is an open wire transmission. That is, all the operators communicate with each other simultaneously. With this map of London, we can track our devilish foe. I will now conduct a watcher roll call:”
~skeert!~
*“Attention all Watchers, Attention all Watchers, this is Detective Nichodimus Cobblechunk, in centralized response position zero. Give me an insto-verbalization check, by the zones.”*
~skeert!~
*“Watcher ‘A’, Millbank Penitentiary, reporting, clear.”*
*“Watcher ‘B’, St. James Park, reporting, clear.”*
*“Watcher ‘C’, Charing Cross, reporting, clear.”*
*“Watcher ‘D’, Seven Dials, reporting, clear.”*
*“Watcher ‘E’, Farringdon Station, reporting, clear.”*
* . . . skrrrrr . . . *
*“Watcher ‘F’, you are holding up the process. Report in, so that we can continue the checklist. We still have lots of letters and double letters to get through in this boring process. … Hello? Watcher ‘F’, do you have your insto-speak apparatus in the operating mode?”*
* . . . skrrrrr . . . *
*“Watcher ‘F’, this is most embarrassing. I have a beautiful female reporter here, and you are making me look bad. Report!”*
* . . . skrrrrr . . . *
“Hey, Nichodimus, I think your lad is in trouble!”
“Great British Beans, I think you’re right, Dipsy! Officer Bobby, are you all right?”
* . . . skrrrrr . . . *
*Bobby the Bobbie, are you secure?”*
The Two Faces of Temperance Page 11