With and Without, Within and Without

by Euan McAllen

  ‘You’re safe with me,’ she kept telling him. You’re safe with me; she wanted Mutz to tell her.

  The small boy looked up at teacher: this was the rarely seen one, the wild one; the one who sometimes got lost in the lesson, who sometimes suddenly threw up her hands and stormed out. He liked her. Lady Agnes saw that he liked her and liked it. Small boys were not so scary after all, and far less trouble than grown men. But then his balls would grow big and hairy and drop. Shame, she thought wickedly, as she thought of Prince Mozak, and when he was younger.

  Lady Agnes felt under fire, and she liked it. She could be as strong as Mutz, just as he could be as obstinate as her. The protective instinct felt good. Every once and awhile she looked down at the little boy; to reassure him; to tell him all would end up good; to not listen to the shouting, the swearing; to not look at the nasty faces or their nasty actions. She was also telling herself this.

  She imagined he was her little boy, and she liked what she imagined. Did she want her son to be the son of a powerful but prickly and pretentious prince? Or the son of a solid, simple soldier? Or just hers, without a man in sight to set the rules? She didn’t know, but still, she wanted Mutz to sleep with her: it was a challenge now. If he didn’t, it would be an insult. Get him into bed; she told herself over and over as she walked back to the brothel. Get him into bed. She prayed to The Village god for the first time: please God, take away this fucking rash!

  After she was gone, the classroom was broken into by parents angry with too much education and too much moralizing. Chairs and desks were scattered. An attempt to burn it all was curtailed as it proved too difficult. The Blackboard was kicked to the ground and jumped on. It was too black to be normal.

  The Village Hangman, following orders, arrested more tax dodgers who, like others, were fined and ordered to pay more, else face more fines. Previously, some tax dodgers had started to pay something or promised to. Now those arrested simply refused, point-blank. Some spat in his face, so he slapped them hard. His men hated the idea of having to arrest those they knew well, those they drank with at the bar. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Doing the dirty work of the Elders was just too dirty, and not on - not on their wages. They protested, and were told to shut it or be sacked - no one called The Hangman’s bluff. Later, in a rare act of compromise, he told his men that he would put a suggestion to the Elders: a pay rise performance-related to the amount of taxes which were collected. That made good economic sense, so the enthusiasm to arrest the tax dodgers returned, with new vigour.

  It was a bad start to the day. And it got worse: the Skunks, led by their fanatical, furious leader, on hearing of The Witch’s arrest ransacked her infamous ‘Corner Shop’ and what they now called the ‘garden of weed’. Grimble had to have it the most, to avoid total mental explosion, for he was mad, mad as hell, that the stupid, lazy, arseholes who were the Elders had arrested his crazy bitch.

  They found nothing of value in her shop, nothing. Simple Simon had tried to stop them, tried to persuade them to leave, so they punched him to the ground. They found no weed, nothing to smoke, so they broke their way into the weed garden, but there was nothing growing that looked like the weed ‘Weed’. Upon questioning, a terrified, confused Simple Simon, they learnt that it had all been confiscated by the Elders.

  To add insult to a non-existent injury, The Village Hangman ordered his second to arrest Grimble for being ‘in possession of a banned substance’. Grimble had no idea what the man was on about and fought him off tooth and nail. The arresting officer was defeated, as was The Hangman when the rest of the gang made it clear they would fight to the last. The Hangman, surprised by their determined resistance and complete lack of respect for law and order, backed down, ego bruised; shouting as he did so, that their gang was illegal, that it could no longer ‘assemble in a public place’. The Skunks laughed and told the two of them to fuck off.

  ‘And what about those fucking Skins?’ shouted Grimble.

  ‘What about them?’ The Hangman shouted back.

  ‘Them too?’

  For a moment, The Hangman looked vacant before the logic snapped.

  ‘Yes, of course! All gangs!’

  ‘Can we tell them?’ shouted Grimble.

  ‘Yes!’ The Hangman had a second thought. ‘No! That’s my job!’

  The Skunks cheered and clapped, which confused The Hangman further. He gave up trying to work it out and walked away, telling them to fuck off. Kids!

  Despite being assaulted by Grimble and his gang, Simple Simon still believed in his new mistress, just as he believed in his old, and carried out his promise to visit them in jail with food and drink - and cushions. They would appreciate a cushion each to sit on. The prisoners were both pleased to see him - as was the bored guard, but for completely different reasons - and he swept away the frosty atmosphere with a happy face and happy talk and plentiful rations. The guard allowed him to reheat the soup he had made earlier, and the two inmates consumed it eagerly. Simple Simon, their devotee, noted their delight and put it down to the last of the medicine he had added to the soup to give it punch.

  He tried, in vain, to time his piece of bad news for Sinead. It made no difference: when she was told that the tent had been dismantled, she was as mad as hell. Like Grimble, she needed to smoke some weed to stop her head exploding. She wanted to scream: she was stuck in this hole, unable to do anything while that despicable, degenerate, diseased vicar was out there destroying all her good work. When Simple Simon (cleverly some might say) added the good news to the bad, that the vicar had lost his job, she was a little less mad and calmed down enough to thank him for his updates, and the food, especially the soup. She told him to go and watch and listen.

  His other mistress, seeing Sinead monopolising her Simon, muscled in on the conversation and also thanked him, and instructed him to go home, and look after the shop.

  ‘And the garden?’ he asked.

  ‘No. Leave the garden to me. I’m sure I’ll be out soon when it’s all shown to be a misunderstanding and lies.’

  As Simple Simon left, Sinead grabbed his hand as she grabbed the last word, much to the annoyance of the old woman.

  ‘Simon! Make sure you tell Grimble about the tent. We all know who did it!’

  ‘But he keeps hitting me?’

  ‘Tell him anyway. Tell him not to hit you anymore. Tell him I said so!’

  Simple Simon liked the sound of that. She was definitely on his side. He waved goodbye to them both as the door slammed shut. The crazy old woman and the crazy young girl grabbed a cushion each and sat down, to disappear again back into the jungle of their own thoughts.

  ***

  What was once a functioning tree house - a home for the homeless, the destitute - received an unexpected visit from two men: one older; one wiser. They both peered up at it as if it had let them down; as if they had come all this way, like tourists, to see it for themselves. The two men had come a long way. It had been a struggle, a calculated risk. The old man had been uncertain from the start but convinced by the other that the journey would be worth it. They had journeyed through The Maze, gone this way then that, to reach this point, but not to see this: they were just passing through. The old man was Teeto, a descendant of the Builders, and up to now he had considered himself the last of his kind. His encounter with the other, wiser man - ex-king, ex-father, hermit, wanderer, and warrior - had changed that; and it had given that man, Helmotti, a new mission.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Helmotti. ‘Let’s move on. I just wanted to see if it was still here. And it is sort of. Shame.’

  The old man spoke with a nervous disposition. ‘We are almost here then, at The Village?’

  ‘Almost here. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Just want to see my friends. Pass on my news.’

  ‘And then on we go?’

  ‘Yes, then on we go, after a
good night’s sleep, and food.’

  The two men lowered their sights and put the burnt-out shell of the treehouse behind them, to continue on their way towards the centre of The Village. Neither wanted to stay in that place any longer than necessary - though the definition of ‘necessary’ differed between them. For both of them, The Village was a small place, a mean place; an insignificant, almost pointless place, were it not for the fact that friends of Helmotti lived there: one being an ex-prince and someone he had once thought of as his son, and sometimes still did. Were the twins safe? It was a question which constantly bugged him now, ever since Teeto had told him the news.

  They reached the home of The Village Witch. Helmotti knew her from previous encounters over the years: during bad times she had given him medication, relief from both physical and mental suffering. He had to see her, for he remembered a ring she had worn. Back then, its engraved symbol had meant nothing to him. Now it meant a lot. Teeto kept something similar tucked away: he only showed it to Helmotti after the man revealed his reasons for making contact. Helmotti had to know more, so was saddened to find her not at home - in her Corner Shop as she would call it - but he did bump into her idiot-adopted orphan. He still lived here; still simple; still clueless; but taller. The small stray had grown into a man.

  Simple Simon wasn’t sure if he recognised the man who said he recognised him. Despite Helmotti’s best efforts to remind him of their previous encounters, to reassure him that he had nothing to fear, that they came as friends, he could only draw a blank expression from Simple Simon’s face. Simple Simon did not remember him. Simple Simon just wanted the two men gone. He asked them not to hit him when he said there was no weed to sell. He told them they had locked her up.

  ‘Locked up?’ asked Helmotti. ‘By the Elders?’

  ‘The Elders, that’s right.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I don’t know. No one told me. No one ever tells me.’

  ‘Very well. Thank you for your time.’

  ‘Can we go now?’ asked his travelling companion.

  ‘Yes. Let’s go. I was hoping to solve a puzzle here today, but no matter. It can wait.’

  ‘A puzzle?’

  ‘Yes. Shame. I wanted to surprise you. That ring you carry with you.’

  ‘What about it?’ Teeto did not like to talk about it, show it, or advertise its existence in any way.

  ‘She wears or did wear, something similar. Same symbol.’

  Teeto raised his eyebrows, but in the presence of the stranger, made no further comment. Simple Simon looked back and forth between their faces, clueless. The two men moved on, leaving him to log the fact of their visit: his mistress would want to know this. After they were gone, he tried hard to recall either face from the collection of fractured memories he had managed to sustain. But no luck. Both men were total mysteries.

  Esmeralda looked out of the window and didn’t believe what she saw. And then she did, for she desperately wanted to. It was Helmotti! The great and good ex-king Helmotti! The hermit Helmotti! Both were back! And he was still carrying his royal sword - still a king at heart.

  Happy like she had not been for ages, Esmeralda jumped up and blew open the door, and ran outside, straight into his open arms. Her first true friend was back, as he had promised. Suddenly she could cope again, sing again, and swing again. Helmotti had been there from what she now regarded as the beginning of the new and - though she didn’t know it at the time - the end of the old. He apologized for being away so long and hoped all was well. ‘No,’ she told him. ‘But that could wait for later.’ He asked if they could come in. ‘Of course,’ said Esmeralda, as she looked with interest at the old man standing behind him.

  ‘Who is that?’

  ‘My friend.’

  For now, that explanation was good enough, so Esmeralda led them on in and told them to sit while she went and found her aunt. Helmotti looked around the kitchen. Nothing much had changed. Only Esmeralda. She looked heavier. She had put on weight. Too much good living with her ex-prince? Aunt Rosamund bounded into the room, also pleased to see her dirty Harry, safe and well. As the news of his arrival spread around the house, some of the older girls came and said hello. Some embraced him, remembering the old times. Teeto was impressed: Helmotti had many sides to him, much in his past; whereas he had what, just stories, myths, legends?

  Helmotti introduced his companion as a friend of Valadino’s, and now a friend of his. The two of them were given food and drink, and Helmotti had to sit eating his whilst bombarded with questions from Esmeralda, most of which he avoided. The old man Teeto was left alone. Finally, Helmotti admitted that they were just passing through, that they had to move on. That sunk Esmeralda, and he had to work hard to refloat her, reminding her that The Village had never been his natural home. She knew that but still didn’t like it. She begged him to come back soon, to not leave it so long next time. Helmotti promised, knowing he was a man who had often broken his promises. He explained he had to meet the man who had taken in Rufus, the man who called himself the ‘last builder’.

  ‘Why?’ asked Esmeralda.

  ‘Yes, why?’ asked Aunt Rosamund.

  ‘Because the man is not the last builder. Just as my friend here isn’t.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning together, like brothers, they share a link back to the Builders. I see it as my duty to bring them together.’

  ‘Duty? Why?’ asked Esmeralda.

  Helmotti didn’t want to elaborate. He wanted to change the subject. He stared at his new friend, and suddenly, the old man received all the attention in the room, and he didn’t like it. He wanted to disappear under the table. He did not look comfortable. He did not look like he was enjoying the hospitality. Helmotti caught the mood and apologized, telling his friend to thank them for taking him in. Teeto, as if disturbed from a dream, did so immediately. It was just that he was exhausted, he explained and needed to lie down.

  ‘We are very tired, worn out,’ said Helmotti. ‘Can we lie down, have a nap?’

  Teeto nodded in anticipation. He needed a good long doze.

  Aunt Rosamund cut in, seeing her niece was wearing them out. ‘Yes, of course.’

  She thought hard for a moment. ‘You don’t mind sharing a room, though?’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘And a double bed?’

  The two men looked at each other. They had been through hard times lying down. Any bed was a wonderful thing to lie on.

  ‘No problem,’ said Helmotti.

  With a heavy heart, Esmeralda watched Helmotti climb the stairs behind her aunt, barely noticing the other man struggling to make his way up. She would become impatient to continue the conversation, to pick up where old times had left off.

  Later, Lady Agnes and Captain Mutz appeared, possibly after a heated row, judging by the cold body language they brought with them. Lady Agnes had a small boy with her, a stray as she called him, a stray cat as Mutz called him. She left the boy to play with Stevie while Esmeralda grabbed all her attention. Esmeralda broke the news, to be disappointed by the lack of reaction. Did these two not care?

  Later, Helmotti was first to be up and about, fully refreshed and hungry to share his news. He had to listen to Esmeralda’s first though, nodding at the right moments and taking her hand when it became bad. Though much of it was bad, it all added up, which from his point of view was good. Both Lady Agnes and Mutz were a little wary of his presence - as he was of theirs - for it was powerful, and it had the habit of driving the agenda, sweeping up others in its path. On the other hand, he was another ally in this place, and allies were hard to come by. Helmotti saw her scar but said nothing. Had Mozak done that to her? Had she refused to go with him? And why was Mutz by her side and not with his prince? Helmotti didn’t want to know. He had put the castle and its people behind him. He had
seen the bigger picture: nothing else was worth a look in.

  Finally, Helmotti got the chance to share his news, with all the others sat around the kitchen table. Teeto had met the twins: they were on their way to the Outside. He had taken them in, knowing Timothy was a close friend of Valadino and sent them on their way well-fed and recovered. Timothy had looked well. Mozak, less so. They had never explained the reason for their journey, so Teeto had assumed they were going to find Valadino, for he had passed through months earlier. Helmotti did not mention the quarrelsome nature of the twins which Teeto had suffered. Esmeralda nearly fainted with relief upon hearing the news that her Timothy was safe, on track. Lady Agnes tried to look pleased, but something inside stopped her truly feeling it. Mutz was also pleased, though only in the professional sense: on the personal level he was caught, cut up, split, in denial.

  For Lady Agnes everything changed: she did not want to wait. On hearing that the ex-king wanted to head off, on to the home of Rufus and the man Nostros, Lady Agnes begged him to take her with him and from there back to The Castle. Without hesitation, Helmotti said, no. He refused. She implored him. She promised to pay him gold upon her return. Still, he said, no. She almost threw herself at him. Still, he said, no. Mutz was furious but managed to contain his fury. There was a plague in the kingdom, he said, which then made Lady Agnes furious with him. Though she wanted to, she could not hit him, for she still wanted him to sleep with her. The mention of the plague did not draw any reaction or response from Helmotti. It had been decades since the previous plague. One was long overdue.

  All wanted to know more about his mysterious friend. Mutz shared what little he knew of his single encounter with the old man, but Helmotti added nothing more; nor why this trip was so important; nor why this old man - quiet, nervous, and private - had been persuaded to leave the safety of his home and make a perilous journey through the Maze. Helmotti kept all his cards to himself. He changed the subject entirely: he wanted to see the school and all Timothy’s good work. Esmeralda jumped at the chance to show him - but only if Mutz came with them. On hearing that, Lady Agnes came along too, not wishing to be cut out, or talked about. Later, when they were alone, Mutz implored her to say nothing about the prisoner, not until he had thought it through.