~
Clinic
Like the top of a great grey whale
Or a cartoon snake resting
On a tropical branch,
Like a section of escalator rail,
A mitten for handling radioactive
Pellets or a bent, deflated
Pontoon,
The arm of this institutional chair
Invests the waiting room with
Ponderous anonymity as
Patients shift their gazes and fuss
With magazines no one will read and
Look longingly at the door which
Opens frequently for one-at-a-time, and – finally,
Me.
Jack Wilson
~
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Frida, Rome in a Day, Medical Exam
~
Frida
Spitting out her beauty and disgust,
She jiggled ghosts and skeletons,
Emptied blood and I was there.
I cleaned up her mess,
I fed her dog and I made her bed.
I watered the garden by the pyramid
And it blossomed.
In life or death, I must see her again.
She’s just like me;
God and the devil
Wrapped up in one tamale.
Jack Wilson
Rome in a Day
Rome sits on its seven haunches
And the pines, with fountains in their branches,
Old road markers in the Appian sun,
Are stolid, green and well run.
A conservative morning begins with dawn
And makes its logical way as a pawn
Is moved one square at a time
To Noon. It seems all right, but I'm
Conscious of a skip in my heartbeat,
And the day pops like corn in the heat
Of a sudden three o'clock. The wrench
Of time ticks in my ears. I hunch
My watch into a shadow to hide
It's face from the white glare. Inside,
The gold hands turn green and catch
On the number six. I light a match
To see if they will stick there
As the fountains, with pines in their sprays, share
Their fate, dwindle and dry in the light
And Rome gets marching into the night.
Jack Wilson
.......................
Medical Exam
Two soldiers, one all white, one all red,
Guard the north wall of the cubed room.
Squat, each with a pedal
To open the lids hands-free.
Fourteen inches square, fifteen high,
Steel with polished mechanisms,
Spare, utilitarian,
Made in Switzerland.
Plastic liner bags skirt the tops,
Peek from the edges of the covers
Like play-filled children unready for sleep.
The sentinels neither bark nor rattle.
They stand so white and so red
Keeping all predators at bay.
Jack Wilson
~
Frida
Spitting out her beauty and disgust,
She jiggled ghosts and skeletons,
Emptied blood and I was there.
I cleaned up her mess,
I fed her dog and I made her bed.
I watered the garden by the pyramid
And it blossomed.
In life or death, I must see her again.
She’s just like me;
God and the devil
Wrapped up in one tamale.
Jack Wilson
Rome in a Day
Rome sits on its seven haunches
And the pines, with fountains in their branches,
Old road markers in the Appian sun,
Are stolid, green and well run.
A conservative morning begins with dawn
And makes its logical way as a pawn
Is moved one square at a time
To Noon. It seems all right, but I'm
Conscious of a skip in my heartbeat,
And the day pops like corn in the heat
Of a sudden three o'clock. The wrench
Of time ticks in my ears. I hunch
My watch into a shadow to hide
It's face from the white glare. Inside,
The gold hands turn green and catch
On the number six. I light a match
To see if they will stick there
As the fountains, with pines in their sprays, share
Their fate, dwindle and dry in the light
And Rome gets marching into the night.
Jack Wilson
.......................
Medical Exam
Two soldiers, one all white, one all red,
Guard the north wall of the cubed room.
Squat, each with a pedal
To open the lids hands-free.
Fourteen inches square, fifteen high,
Steel with polished mechanisms,
Spare, utilitarian,
Made in Switzerland.
Plastic liner bags skirt the tops,
Peek from the edges of the covers
Like play-filled children unready for sleep.
The sentinels neither bark nor rattle.
They stand so white and so red
Keeping all predators at bay.
Jack Wilson
~
Three Poems
~
A Swallow Speeds On
Morning:
Two eggs, coffee with cream.
A fly noisily zigs and zags.
Noon: Ham and cheese on bread.
A butterfly silently flits and flits.
Evening: Steak and French Fries.
A hummingbird looks on while hovering.
Night: Four cookies and milk.
A bat menacingly zooms.
-Jack Wilson
.............................
At The Center
"In Emergency Push To Open,"
The automatic doors read on the unwashed, dribbly glass.
The further, outer door carries the same remark.
Between the first and second lies a cross-hatched
Block-built carpet, mole-grey brown.
The door to the entrance-garden has the same dribbles
And moves just as automatically.
Inside the inside, thick nurses, men and women, pad by.
Television gurgles softly, patients and personnel murmur,
Little clicks and taps identify heels and wheels,
Medical machinery and dropped tongue depressors.
Outside the outside, greenstuffs, and
Traffic tooting and squealing.
Between the inside and the outside lies a
Cross-hatched, block-built, mole-grey brown
Carpet.
--Jack Wilson
.......................
Tidepool
Invent the waves and vivid pools with me,
Cool, industrious, dibbling at our toes,
And let your knees snatch back at laps of sea.
Wade deeper toward the hole where seaweed grows,
Kick lively now, hitch up your sagging suit
And hold my hand. If you cannot see,
Loosen your grip, sit on my friendly foot,
Relax and let your hair float out to me.
I`ll pull you to a swirl for us alone
Where we can touch and float asleep or wake
And be content awhile with what we`ve sown.
To love where all we give is all we take,
As fishes waken from their restless sleep
To watch us drifting till we`re in too deep.
Jack Wilson
~
A Swallow Speeds On
Morning:
Two eggs, coffee with cream.
A fly noisily zigs and zags.
Noon: Ham and cheese on bread.
A butterfly silently flits and flits.
Evening: Steak and French Fries.
A hummingbird looks on while hovering.
Night: Four cookies and milk.
A bat menacingly zooms.
-Jack Wilson
.............................
At The Center
"In Emergency Push To Open,"
The automatic doors read on the unwashed, dribbly glass.
The further, outer door carries the same remark.
Between the first and second lies a cross-hatched
Block-built carpet, mole-grey brown.
The door to the entrance-garden has the same dribbles
And moves just as automatically.
Inside the inside, thick nurses, men and women, pad by.
Television gurgles softly, patients and personnel murmur,
Little clicks and taps identify heels and wheels,
Medical machinery and dropped tongue depressors.
Outside the outside, greenstuffs, and
Traffic tooting and squealing.
Between the inside and the outside lies a
Cross-hatched, block-built, mole-grey brown
Carpet.
--Jack Wilson
.......................
Tidepool
Invent the waves and vivid pools with me,
Cool, industrious, dibbling at our toes,
And let your knees snatch back at laps of sea.
Wade deeper toward the hole where seaweed grows,
Kick lively now, hitch up your sagging suit
And hold my hand. If you cannot see,
Loosen your grip, sit on my friendly foot,
Relax and let your hair float out to me.
I`ll pull you to a swirl for us alone
Where we can touch and float asleep or wake
And be content awhile with what we`ve sown.
To love where all we give is all we take,
As fishes waken from their restless sleep
To watch us drifting till we`re in too deep.
Jack Wilson
~
Nam Nam Chattering - Dracula Anagrams
~
Namnam Chattering
This is a story about a chambermaid to a duchess. The text contains many references to Dracula, Nosferatu, and such, usually in the form of anagrams.
Nam Nam Chattering
1. In the Chamber of The Duchesse.
The Duchesse Frantouse mooned over her fate. Rapunzel had her Rumpelstiltskin, Juliet had Romeo, Don Quixote had his Rocinante, but whom had the Duchesse? Duke Snoutfare was whom, and he was wont to starve her or lock her in her chamber. She was so young and so beautiful. It was too, too bitter. Snortafeu, her nose-ferret, too betrayed her with the typical little black eyes and buttery nose of a female nose-ferret.
The Duchesse could rely on only one person; her dear young nursemaid and confidante Nam Nam Chattering. Sad to say, Nam Nam had problems of her own. Nam Nam Chattering always spoke in a voice barely audible, her tiny cup-shaped hand held frozen in front of her mouth, eyes darting about.
--Milady I desperately need 600 cluckats because it's ever so important that I get them right now so as to pay my debt to Lacruda the Lowly Liegelord of Chelm or all is lost.
--Chelm? You mean Fleghm of course. Never fear Nam Nam, I shall will it to you. Now let me tell you my problems.
--But Madame I need it now I cannot wait until you die it is a matter of utmost oh-my-goodness.
--Oh Chatters, I don't have to die to will something to you. The cluckats are yours. Get them from Shinglevan. Now, I'm having this fret about...
--Pardon Mum if I schreck you say that Shinglevan will stake me?
--Here, you shall give this bit of garlic toast to him, he will obey.
--I will if you say to but I don't think he shall do it.
-- Shush, if you're not going to listen to my woes, get tea.
--Hmm tea dumb tea if you ask me.
--Off with your headstrong ways. Get!
Warmunuf Potheen the Tea Officer silently slithered in and served. The Duchesse sipped in sad solemnity. Countess Buttery-nose Snortafeu the ferret snuffled around under the dust ruffles and settled in on a warm slipper and halfway closed her beady eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2. At the Treasury.
Nam Nam Chattering adjusted her lace cap, whimpered up to face Shinglevan with the bit of garlic toast in her cupped hand, left shoulder hunched, and broke the news about the money to him.
--Oh Cushinglee Saints Peter and Christopher, Chattering, how did you manage to build up such an obligation? And, by the way, if you can spare a few moments, I have a number of complaints I would like to tell you about. Perhaps you can speak with the Duchesse.
--No time now Sir I couldn't help it Sir it's me brother's nubbins you see.
--Oh Pitiful Martyrs, what's nubbins to do with it?
--Well you see Sir them nubbins keeps comin' back and he has to go to the witches to get 'em taken off and them nubbins they won't hardly leave and I has to pay them witches for every time we go and we couldn't pay the last six times and so I had to borrow from Lacruda the Lowly Liegelord of Fleghm that's what it is you see Sir.
--Oh Rusty Forks and Spoons, whatever it is I suppose that it is none of my business. You must be thinking of Chelm my dear. Since you have brought the Sacred Garlic Toast, I am compelled to concede to you the shekels. Just a few minutes of your time, I have only twelve worries to impart.
--I'll be needing it in cluckats if it's all the same to you Sir.
Shinglevan curled a lip and handed over the cash. Nam Nam adjusted her lace cap and tiptoed off to pay up.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3. At the Brewery.
Nam Nam Chattering picked a piece of mistletoe as she wended through the Witchforest. Soon enough she found the keeper of the cauldron and got permission to see Witch One.
--Oh Witch One I have the cluckats which I owe to Lacruda the Lowly Liegelord of Chelm but I am afraid of him do you suppose you could pass them on to him if it doesn't inconvenience your witching if it please your witchness?
--Ah, the little nubbins girl! Thanks, I'll take these coins and return them to Lacruda the Lowly where they belong. He lives in Fleghm, by the way. How's brother Skinrah today?
--Oh just fine Witch One thank you I'll be off now.
--I was hoping you would stay for a bit of tea. Witch Two is stewing a brew right now, and there are some matters that have been upsetting me lately regarding the treatment of witches in this Dukery and I would like to have you speak to your mistress about them.
--Best I be gettin' back as the Duchesse you know is a fusspot you knew that about her didn't you know it?
--Yes Nam Nam, away you go then.
Witch One waved goodbye first.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
4. Behind a Bush.
--Well, well, well, I do believe I have the pleasure of espying Nam Nam Chattering walking alone in this forbidding forest.
--Yep, that's who it is. Why should that interest varlots like us? She will have neither shekels nor cluckats.
--Ah, Friendel, you forget that she has the ear of the Duchesse!
--I remember that it is not a very big ear, Keerah, and almost all gristle.
--That is indubitable. Perhaps we should kidnap the whole chicken, dear Friendel.
--Chicken?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5. Along a Wooded Path.
--Well looky here, I do believe I have the pleasure of crossing paths with the ever lovely Nam Nam Chattering, handmaiden to the Duchesse Frantouse. How fares the great, if small, Lady kept in her keep?
--Uh oh varlots mind your caution you two remember that I have a quite large brother from Fleghm who can knock you all to pieces.
--Ah, yes, the very large brother. Surely you are thinking of Chelm. I heard through eavesdropping on the witches that he is full of nubbins.
--Not today not today I'm late I'm late out of my way.
With little further conversation the vandals swamped Nam Nam with a gunny sack and trundled her off to their kidnapping cottage in the French foreign region where she would be free to scream, though that would have surprised even her.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6. In the Chamber of The Duchesse Again.
--Mung, Shung and Shinny! Where is that nattering Nam Nam. Out jabbering somewhere, no doubt. Hark! What knight on yonder donkey looms. Ho, he knocks upon my portcullis. He enters, he sees steps, he goes up, he approaches mine own cold cold hearth.
Tap.
--Milady, forsooth methinks I come a-bearing ill woe betides.
--News?
--Nam Nam Chattering is carried away.
--Yes, she can be enthusiastic, can't she?
--What I mean is that abductors have snatched her.
--Oh my, can't have that. What shall I do, what shall I do?
--I fear they have vulgar intentions Milady. They have illustrated their demands by sending along a book of kills they might employ if they don't get their way.
--Frogs in the crabgrass! What do they want?
--You.
--Me?
--Actually, they want the dukedom. They think that to rescue Nam Nam, you will give yourself up to them, then they will be able to hold up Duke Snoutfare who will give them the fief.
--Ha!
--Precisely. The no bull duke would not part with a comb much less the clippings from his fingernails or a castle and grounds. They have overstepped.
--You go tell them to let Nam Nam loose and I will try to persuade the duke to overlook their stepoverage.
--I fanfare forth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
7. In the Duke's Offices.
Duke Snoutfare put one foot upon the leathern ottoman, then the other foot up and first foot down. He did this over and over as was his way when pondering serious affairs.
--So, Frantouse, my unnecessary but nearby love, it appears that you have lost what sense you once had. I do not fathom the depth of your argument. I say knots to them. Nam Nam is not even numnum, what do I care?
--It is true that you have never been a kind person, nor a generous one, nor a nice one. Best I stop there. I appeal then to your greed, avarice, venality and torpor. These bold varlots could, after all, be squashed into service as tax collectors and we could snatch back Nam Nam. What say?
--The customary term is 'pressed into service,' but I rather like 'squashed' now that you put it that way. Send for the pressers.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
8. At the Kidnappery.
--I do believe I have the pleasure of espying a messenger, Friendel. No, it's a gang of pressers.
--Ill is boding again, Keerah, let us evacuate the premises.
--Wait, they are sporting the green raiment of friendliness.
--Oh yeah, friendliness, green raiment, I depart hencewith.
--Too late now, they're here.
--We bring you greetings from Duke Snoutfare and an offer. You can accept being pressed into service as tax collectors, or we will squash you. Do you have a preference? What say you?
--Pressed! Pressed!
--You are so impressed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9. In the Chamber of The Duchesse Once More.
--So Nam Nam, pretty neat rescue eh?
Nam Nam Chattering adjusted her lace cap, placed her tiny cup-shaped hand in front of her mouth, and spoke in a barely audible voice.
--Well all I can say is that you could have at least had them untie me before carrying me back wholesale by them smelly pressers and I don't never want to see that forest no more and if nubbins comes back I don't care I won't do it and that goes for your old nose-ferret too.
Snortafeu nuzzled the slipper further underneath the dust-ruffles, munched on a fly, tilted her head slightly toward the Northwest and sighed into a light snore.
The End
Jack Wilson © 2001
~
Namnam Chattering
This is a story about a chambermaid to a duchess. The text contains many references to Dracula, Nosferatu, and such, usually in the form of anagrams.
Nam Nam Chattering
1. In the Chamber of The Duchesse.
The Duchesse Frantouse mooned over her fate. Rapunzel had her Rumpelstiltskin, Juliet had Romeo, Don Quixote had his Rocinante, but whom had the Duchesse? Duke Snoutfare was whom, and he was wont to starve her or lock her in her chamber. She was so young and so beautiful. It was too, too bitter. Snortafeu, her nose-ferret, too betrayed her with the typical little black eyes and buttery nose of a female nose-ferret.
The Duchesse could rely on only one person; her dear young nursemaid and confidante Nam Nam Chattering. Sad to say, Nam Nam had problems of her own. Nam Nam Chattering always spoke in a voice barely audible, her tiny cup-shaped hand held frozen in front of her mouth, eyes darting about.
--Milady I desperately need 600 cluckats because it's ever so important that I get them right now so as to pay my debt to Lacruda the Lowly Liegelord of Chelm or all is lost.
--Chelm? You mean Fleghm of course. Never fear Nam Nam, I shall will it to you. Now let me tell you my problems.
--But Madame I need it now I cannot wait until you die it is a matter of utmost oh-my-goodness.
--Oh Chatters, I don't have to die to will something to you. The cluckats are yours. Get them from Shinglevan. Now, I'm having this fret about...
--Pardon Mum if I schreck you say that Shinglevan will stake me?
--Here, you shall give this bit of garlic toast to him, he will obey.
--I will if you say to but I don't think he shall do it.
-- Shush, if you're not going to listen to my woes, get tea.
--Hmm tea dumb tea if you ask me.
--Off with your headstrong ways. Get!
Warmunuf Potheen the Tea Officer silently slithered in and served. The Duchesse sipped in sad solemnity. Countess Buttery-nose Snortafeu the ferret snuffled around under the dust ruffles and settled in on a warm slipper and halfway closed her beady eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2. At the Treasury.
Nam Nam Chattering adjusted her lace cap, whimpered up to face Shinglevan with the bit of garlic toast in her cupped hand, left shoulder hunched, and broke the news about the money to him.
--Oh Cushinglee Saints Peter and Christopher, Chattering, how did you manage to build up such an obligation? And, by the way, if you can spare a few moments, I have a number of complaints I would like to tell you about. Perhaps you can speak with the Duchesse.
--No time now Sir I couldn't help it Sir it's me brother's nubbins you see.
--Oh Pitiful Martyrs, what's nubbins to do with it?
--Well you see Sir them nubbins keeps comin' back and he has to go to the witches to get 'em taken off and them nubbins they won't hardly leave and I has to pay them witches for every time we go and we couldn't pay the last six times and so I had to borrow from Lacruda the Lowly Liegelord of Fleghm that's what it is you see Sir.
--Oh Rusty Forks and Spoons, whatever it is I suppose that it is none of my business. You must be thinking of Chelm my dear. Since you have brought the Sacred Garlic Toast, I am compelled to concede to you the shekels. Just a few minutes of your time, I have only twelve worries to impart.
--I'll be needing it in cluckats if it's all the same to you Sir.
Shinglevan curled a lip and handed over the cash. Nam Nam adjusted her lace cap and tiptoed off to pay up.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3. At the Brewery.
Nam Nam Chattering picked a piece of mistletoe as she wended through the Witchforest. Soon enough she found the keeper of the cauldron and got permission to see Witch One.
--Oh Witch One I have the cluckats which I owe to Lacruda the Lowly Liegelord of Chelm but I am afraid of him do you suppose you could pass them on to him if it doesn't inconvenience your witching if it please your witchness?
--Ah, the little nubbins girl! Thanks, I'll take these coins and return them to Lacruda the Lowly where they belong. He lives in Fleghm, by the way. How's brother Skinrah today?
--Oh just fine Witch One thank you I'll be off now.
--I was hoping you would stay for a bit of tea. Witch Two is stewing a brew right now, and there are some matters that have been upsetting me lately regarding the treatment of witches in this Dukery and I would like to have you speak to your mistress about them.
--Best I be gettin' back as the Duchesse you know is a fusspot you knew that about her didn't you know it?
--Yes Nam Nam, away you go then.
Witch One waved goodbye first.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
4. Behind a Bush.
--Well, well, well, I do believe I have the pleasure of espying Nam Nam Chattering walking alone in this forbidding forest.
--Yep, that's who it is. Why should that interest varlots like us? She will have neither shekels nor cluckats.
--Ah, Friendel, you forget that she has the ear of the Duchesse!
--I remember that it is not a very big ear, Keerah, and almost all gristle.
--That is indubitable. Perhaps we should kidnap the whole chicken, dear Friendel.
--Chicken?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5. Along a Wooded Path.
--Well looky here, I do believe I have the pleasure of crossing paths with the ever lovely Nam Nam Chattering, handmaiden to the Duchesse Frantouse. How fares the great, if small, Lady kept in her keep?
--Uh oh varlots mind your caution you two remember that I have a quite large brother from Fleghm who can knock you all to pieces.
--Ah, yes, the very large brother. Surely you are thinking of Chelm. I heard through eavesdropping on the witches that he is full of nubbins.
--Not today not today I'm late I'm late out of my way.
With little further conversation the vandals swamped Nam Nam with a gunny sack and trundled her off to their kidnapping cottage in the French foreign region where she would be free to scream, though that would have surprised even her.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6. In the Chamber of The Duchesse Again.
--Mung, Shung and Shinny! Where is that nattering Nam Nam. Out jabbering somewhere, no doubt. Hark! What knight on yonder donkey looms. Ho, he knocks upon my portcullis. He enters, he sees steps, he goes up, he approaches mine own cold cold hearth.
Tap.
--Milady, forsooth methinks I come a-bearing ill woe betides.
--News?
--Nam Nam Chattering is carried away.
--Yes, she can be enthusiastic, can't she?
--What I mean is that abductors have snatched her.
--Oh my, can't have that. What shall I do, what shall I do?
--I fear they have vulgar intentions Milady. They have illustrated their demands by sending along a book of kills they might employ if they don't get their way.
--Frogs in the crabgrass! What do they want?
--You.
--Me?
--Actually, they want the dukedom. They think that to rescue Nam Nam, you will give yourself up to them, then they will be able to hold up Duke Snoutfare who will give them the fief.
--Ha!
--Precisely. The no bull duke would not part with a comb much less the clippings from his fingernails or a castle and grounds. They have overstepped.
--You go tell them to let Nam Nam loose and I will try to persuade the duke to overlook their stepoverage.
--I fanfare forth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
7. In the Duke's Offices.
Duke Snoutfare put one foot upon the leathern ottoman, then the other foot up and first foot down. He did this over and over as was his way when pondering serious affairs.
--So, Frantouse, my unnecessary but nearby love, it appears that you have lost what sense you once had. I do not fathom the depth of your argument. I say knots to them. Nam Nam is not even numnum, what do I care?
--It is true that you have never been a kind person, nor a generous one, nor a nice one. Best I stop there. I appeal then to your greed, avarice, venality and torpor. These bold varlots could, after all, be squashed into service as tax collectors and we could snatch back Nam Nam. What say?
--The customary term is 'pressed into service,' but I rather like 'squashed' now that you put it that way. Send for the pressers.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
8. At the Kidnappery.
--I do believe I have the pleasure of espying a messenger, Friendel. No, it's a gang of pressers.
--Ill is boding again, Keerah, let us evacuate the premises.
--Wait, they are sporting the green raiment of friendliness.
--Oh yeah, friendliness, green raiment, I depart hencewith.
--Too late now, they're here.
--We bring you greetings from Duke Snoutfare and an offer. You can accept being pressed into service as tax collectors, or we will squash you. Do you have a preference? What say you?
--Pressed! Pressed!
--You are so impressed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9. In the Chamber of The Duchesse Once More.
--So Nam Nam, pretty neat rescue eh?
Nam Nam Chattering adjusted her lace cap, placed her tiny cup-shaped hand in front of her mouth, and spoke in a barely audible voice.
--Well all I can say is that you could have at least had them untie me before carrying me back wholesale by them smelly pressers and I don't never want to see that forest no more and if nubbins comes back I don't care I won't do it and that goes for your old nose-ferret too.
Snortafeu nuzzled the slipper further underneath the dust-ruffles, munched on a fly, tilted her head slightly toward the Northwest and sighed into a light snore.
The End
Jack Wilson © 2001
~
Amber Wakes Dublin - A Joycean Allusion
~
AMBER WAKES DUBLIN
Amber Wakes Dublin
Amber Hiccums had had a great fall and winter in Paris and New York, and now spring was here in Ireland and she sprang out of the jaunting-car to reconnoiter with her dear friends Harmie and Armie, the most beloved couple in Dublin. Harmonious Claribel Euphony was by every man's calculation, the biggest gent in Dublin. Some took him to be equal to the length and breadth of it, and his wife, Armonium Laribel Phonieux, the most sinuous, continuous, roundabout and plural of women. There was trouble in Dublin. Before Amber could unpack or even pull down her ever-popping-up collar, Armie took her by the hand.
--Let's stroll along the river, lovey, and I'll fill you in. We've had a serious robbery hereabouts. A gang of four, maybe more, has stolen the priceless Viscount Scepter and other treasures from the museum. We fear that the thieves may throw away the most precious stone, the famous Morken Diamond, since it would be recognized anywhere and so will not likely be cut into smaller gems. It would take a better knifeblade than they have to do it in any case.
--O rocks! Here's some flat ones, lets skip a few stones. You know, it seems likely that unusual goings-on will be talked about. Maybe we can pick up some gossip if we go wandering through the park.
And so they rustled up this and that path, stopping to sit hither and thither on benches occupied by chatters, some nicely dressed and others in tatters. Several suspicious men and women passed by, looking quickly at the outsider, then lowering their heads.
--Amber Hiccums, everybody thinks you are a spy. Come to think of it, they're about right. Don't get too close to those brambly bushes, mustn't skin your coat. We're not hearing much here, not worth tarrying any longer, let's go.
Armonium Laribel Phonieux hustled Amber onto a tram and they hied themselves to the Flowertown Bazaar.
--This is the merriest bazaar I've ever been to, Armie, it has everything! I must get a little something for Raoul while I'm here.
--Mind the clay and you're about to step on that potted ashplant.
--Sorry! Say, look at that candlemaker's stall over there. There's a little cloud of wicksmoke hanging over it.
--That's where we are going Ambo, here, let me introduce you to our nosiest operative, Icarious Uplump Stately.
--Aieeayoh you scared me with your blooody feral dog. What happened to him?
--Wo, you sound like one of them sirens durin' the war. Ol' Bunk here stuck his nose in the wrong pub, got a dog biscuit box thrown at him. Glad to meet you. Has Armie told you the plan?
--Not so's you'd notice, I am a ...
--No, no, we can't talk here. I sold a few candles already so I'll close up shop for now and meet you two at noon by the timeball. Bring Harmie and I'll round up the rest.
Noon found them all hunkered in a circle drawing diagrams in the sand and receiving assignments. Amber and Armie were sent to the hamlet of Kidneyzod because a some big spending had been spotted there.
At twenty-three Enkeedoo St., beside the Gilgamishemishe Fountain, they found a giant curio sale going on. A mother and her brood, and for that matter all her neighbors were buying multifarious titbits, necklaces of rosevean beads, cheap little booklets of poems, CDs of The Ballad of Garry Owen. O the noise, the noise was enough to wake the dead.
Oops! a boy almost knocked me down. Well bite my bunions!
Amber recognised a warm human plumpness of a man flashing his money about with great to do. It was Harmonious Claribel Euphony, her friend who had left the meeting to go to Dalkey where it was thought that some of the stolen booty had been seen.
--So, Harmie, do you belong here at our investigation site, and why are you just throwing your cash around?
--Shh... Cash'll flush 'em out. Go. Go away, go away, I had hoped that I wouldn't encounter you.
--Okay, okay, I'm history, don't blame me. Ppecmshdepoaufw! Don't forget to pull the chain. Acts like he's trying to get over a nightmare.
Amber caught up with Armonium and the two traipsed off to the brownstone bookstore to show off what nothing they had discovered to Icarious and his fellow councilor Mr. Nolanetti.
Before they could reach the door, a one-armed fisherman with crazy eyes pulled them aside and into a narrow path between two buildings. He growled menacingly.
--You'd best come with me if you want to save a life y' know. This way.
Behind the bookstore was a square ditch to let the river run off in case of a swelling tide. Over that was a bridge into a yard with what seemed to be a storage shed. The fisherman pushed aside some movable rocks, opened the ramshackle door and waved his remaining hand for them to enter. Amber tugged at her collar. She could barely see a tunnel, dank and close. They tiptoed along for about a block and came into a cave-like room with a fire going and several men sitting around with their pipes asmoke.
--Here they are, tell 'em the tale.
--Hee Haw, you must be Amber, Armonium I already know . You sit down ladies, tea water's boilin'. Here comes each a cup, and now the story. Not two hours ago, one of our agents hiding behind a lamppost in the park, spied a group of two young women and three soldiers whispering like paranoids. He moseyed over casual-like and asked did anyone have a match perchance. Well, you should have heard all the fancy excuses they came up with about why and where and how come and no one even asked them their business, did they?. So upset they were that they grabbed a hostage, one little wandering chewer who was munching neither on a candy bar nor a popsicle, but only a bit of potato, that harmless she was. As it happens, the girl is the very daughter of Martha Pandybat, the very secretary and keeper of the keys of our very little museum. We then received a letter that said we could get Martha's girl back if we would send a messenger with a sackful of money to 1132 Seashell St. right there at the foot of the castle just at 7 P.M.
He clearly explained it all and showed them the note. Amber was not known to the rapscallions, so was elected as the bag lady, the thought being that she would not pose a threat to them. Whoever had that thought was missing more than an arm, but that was the decision and off she went, with invincible Armie following some distance after.
--How come Eagle-eye Armie is so far behind and how did I get into this mess, anyway?
Seven of the clock was nigh. Amber arrived at the rendezvous holding the bag, her collar up. This scheme was not at all well thought out. What was she supposed to do now? A tall dark figure emerged from the shadows as zither music hummed through the trees: dum da dum, da dummm, da dummmm. The person rushed forward and grabbed Amber's bag and ran like the wind. Armie chased and tackled him just as he was about to slither into the train station. Amber and another member of the party who had been lurking nearby, joined Armie in holding the miscreant down. A third man pulled up the rear. Fifteen minutes of intense questioning failed to reveal the whereabouts of Martha Pandybat's child and the loot.
Amber took off in the opposite direction, as the others puzzled over how to rescue Martha Pandybat's daughter and the treasures. She knew what she was doing. About an hour later Amber returned and awakened her friends and the rest of Dublin with a thunderous shout in the street!
--What was that terrible noise here on a Thursday?
--I Just needed to get your attention and I thought that tap-tap-tapping wouldn't quite do it. I have returned to tell you that the whole thing has been a fake, the robbery, the abduction and the ransom demands. Martha Pandybat herself is the ringleader of this bunch of rounders.
--Impossible! Martha could never be a criminal.
--She's not. None of these citizens is a real criminal. It was all set up by the museum and the insurance company. The plan was to make the public believe that the scepter and other items were gone and that replicas were in their places on display. That way, actual thieves would have no further interest in stealing them. This case is closed.
--But Amber Hiccums, everybody thought..., nobody could have..., how th...?
--I saw it in his eyes while we were questioning him so I went back and broke into the museum room and searched through the file cabinets. I scratched up a letter which explains all. They were just paying the ransom to themselves and the child was never in any danger. The constabulary might have a word or two to say about the ruse, but our work is finished.
Amber smoothed down her ever-up collar,
--Armie, Harmie, it has been a great joy celebrating the solving of this little mystery together and now summer is hiccumin' in and I'm off to see Raoul, so beastly 'bye. I'll see you in my dreamy-dreams. I hate long goodbyes, yes I do, yes I do. Yes, Adieu.
The End
Amber Wakes Dublin
by Jack Wilson © 2001
~
AMBER WAKES DUBLIN
Amber Wakes Dublin
Amber Hiccums had had a great fall and winter in Paris and New York, and now spring was here in Ireland and she sprang out of the jaunting-car to reconnoiter with her dear friends Harmie and Armie, the most beloved couple in Dublin. Harmonious Claribel Euphony was by every man's calculation, the biggest gent in Dublin. Some took him to be equal to the length and breadth of it, and his wife, Armonium Laribel Phonieux, the most sinuous, continuous, roundabout and plural of women. There was trouble in Dublin. Before Amber could unpack or even pull down her ever-popping-up collar, Armie took her by the hand.
--Let's stroll along the river, lovey, and I'll fill you in. We've had a serious robbery hereabouts. A gang of four, maybe more, has stolen the priceless Viscount Scepter and other treasures from the museum. We fear that the thieves may throw away the most precious stone, the famous Morken Diamond, since it would be recognized anywhere and so will not likely be cut into smaller gems. It would take a better knifeblade than they have to do it in any case.
--O rocks! Here's some flat ones, lets skip a few stones. You know, it seems likely that unusual goings-on will be talked about. Maybe we can pick up some gossip if we go wandering through the park.
And so they rustled up this and that path, stopping to sit hither and thither on benches occupied by chatters, some nicely dressed and others in tatters. Several suspicious men and women passed by, looking quickly at the outsider, then lowering their heads.
--Amber Hiccums, everybody thinks you are a spy. Come to think of it, they're about right. Don't get too close to those brambly bushes, mustn't skin your coat. We're not hearing much here, not worth tarrying any longer, let's go.
Armonium Laribel Phonieux hustled Amber onto a tram and they hied themselves to the Flowertown Bazaar.
--This is the merriest bazaar I've ever been to, Armie, it has everything! I must get a little something for Raoul while I'm here.
--Mind the clay and you're about to step on that potted ashplant.
--Sorry! Say, look at that candlemaker's stall over there. There's a little cloud of wicksmoke hanging over it.
--That's where we are going Ambo, here, let me introduce you to our nosiest operative, Icarious Uplump Stately.
--Aieeayoh you scared me with your blooody feral dog. What happened to him?
--Wo, you sound like one of them sirens durin' the war. Ol' Bunk here stuck his nose in the wrong pub, got a dog biscuit box thrown at him. Glad to meet you. Has Armie told you the plan?
--Not so's you'd notice, I am a ...
--No, no, we can't talk here. I sold a few candles already so I'll close up shop for now and meet you two at noon by the timeball. Bring Harmie and I'll round up the rest.
Noon found them all hunkered in a circle drawing diagrams in the sand and receiving assignments. Amber and Armie were sent to the hamlet of Kidneyzod because a some big spending had been spotted there.
At twenty-three Enkeedoo St., beside the Gilgamishemishe Fountain, they found a giant curio sale going on. A mother and her brood, and for that matter all her neighbors were buying multifarious titbits, necklaces of rosevean beads, cheap little booklets of poems, CDs of The Ballad of Garry Owen. O the noise, the noise was enough to wake the dead.
Oops! a boy almost knocked me down. Well bite my bunions!
Amber recognised a warm human plumpness of a man flashing his money about with great to do. It was Harmonious Claribel Euphony, her friend who had left the meeting to go to Dalkey where it was thought that some of the stolen booty had been seen.
--So, Harmie, do you belong here at our investigation site, and why are you just throwing your cash around?
--Shh... Cash'll flush 'em out. Go. Go away, go away, I had hoped that I wouldn't encounter you.
--Okay, okay, I'm history, don't blame me. Ppecmshdepoaufw! Don't forget to pull the chain. Acts like he's trying to get over a nightmare.
Amber caught up with Armonium and the two traipsed off to the brownstone bookstore to show off what nothing they had discovered to Icarious and his fellow councilor Mr. Nolanetti.
Before they could reach the door, a one-armed fisherman with crazy eyes pulled them aside and into a narrow path between two buildings. He growled menacingly.
--You'd best come with me if you want to save a life y' know. This way.
Behind the bookstore was a square ditch to let the river run off in case of a swelling tide. Over that was a bridge into a yard with what seemed to be a storage shed. The fisherman pushed aside some movable rocks, opened the ramshackle door and waved his remaining hand for them to enter. Amber tugged at her collar. She could barely see a tunnel, dank and close. They tiptoed along for about a block and came into a cave-like room with a fire going and several men sitting around with their pipes asmoke.
--Here they are, tell 'em the tale.
--Hee Haw, you must be Amber, Armonium I already know . You sit down ladies, tea water's boilin'. Here comes each a cup, and now the story. Not two hours ago, one of our agents hiding behind a lamppost in the park, spied a group of two young women and three soldiers whispering like paranoids. He moseyed over casual-like and asked did anyone have a match perchance. Well, you should have heard all the fancy excuses they came up with about why and where and how come and no one even asked them their business, did they?. So upset they were that they grabbed a hostage, one little wandering chewer who was munching neither on a candy bar nor a popsicle, but only a bit of potato, that harmless she was. As it happens, the girl is the very daughter of Martha Pandybat, the very secretary and keeper of the keys of our very little museum. We then received a letter that said we could get Martha's girl back if we would send a messenger with a sackful of money to 1132 Seashell St. right there at the foot of the castle just at 7 P.M.
He clearly explained it all and showed them the note. Amber was not known to the rapscallions, so was elected as the bag lady, the thought being that she would not pose a threat to them. Whoever had that thought was missing more than an arm, but that was the decision and off she went, with invincible Armie following some distance after.
--How come Eagle-eye Armie is so far behind and how did I get into this mess, anyway?
Seven of the clock was nigh. Amber arrived at the rendezvous holding the bag, her collar up. This scheme was not at all well thought out. What was she supposed to do now? A tall dark figure emerged from the shadows as zither music hummed through the trees: dum da dum, da dummm, da dummmm. The person rushed forward and grabbed Amber's bag and ran like the wind. Armie chased and tackled him just as he was about to slither into the train station. Amber and another member of the party who had been lurking nearby, joined Armie in holding the miscreant down. A third man pulled up the rear. Fifteen minutes of intense questioning failed to reveal the whereabouts of Martha Pandybat's child and the loot.
Amber took off in the opposite direction, as the others puzzled over how to rescue Martha Pandybat's daughter and the treasures. She knew what she was doing. About an hour later Amber returned and awakened her friends and the rest of Dublin with a thunderous shout in the street!
--What was that terrible noise here on a Thursday?
--I Just needed to get your attention and I thought that tap-tap-tapping wouldn't quite do it. I have returned to tell you that the whole thing has been a fake, the robbery, the abduction and the ransom demands. Martha Pandybat herself is the ringleader of this bunch of rounders.
--Impossible! Martha could never be a criminal.
--She's not. None of these citizens is a real criminal. It was all set up by the museum and the insurance company. The plan was to make the public believe that the scepter and other items were gone and that replicas were in their places on display. That way, actual thieves would have no further interest in stealing them. This case is closed.
--But Amber Hiccums, everybody thought..., nobody could have..., how th...?
--I saw it in his eyes while we were questioning him so I went back and broke into the museum room and searched through the file cabinets. I scratched up a letter which explains all. They were just paying the ransom to themselves and the child was never in any danger. The constabulary might have a word or two to say about the ruse, but our work is finished.
Amber smoothed down her ever-up collar,
--Armie, Harmie, it has been a great joy celebrating the solving of this little mystery together and now summer is hiccumin' in and I'm off to see Raoul, so beastly 'bye. I'll see you in my dreamy-dreams. I hate long goodbyes, yes I do, yes I do. Yes, Adieu.
The End
Amber Wakes Dublin
by Jack Wilson © 2001
~
A Dork and Strummy Knight
~
It Was A Dork And Strummy Knight
1. Arriving in the Town.
It was a dork and strummy knight who came clopping clopping through the muck then. The knight was called Sir Gregorio Chant and his dork was Ostinato. The spring crusades had brought them along from the village of Cantabile in Canton Cadenza to our town of Capriccio, whose burgmeister is the well-known military man, Major Seventh Flat-Five and the burgmeister's wife is Augmented. The Major's children are Semiquaver, the girl, and Diminuendo, the boy. As often happens, it was the children who welcomed the duo.
--Ho, Knight, could'st strum a story for us upon your dulcimer with the hearts for holes and sing sweet neverminds?
--Why yes, young lady, I suppose I could'st as soon as I get myself unmucked. Where might I and my dork get cleaner?
--Well, if you want scraping there's the blacksmith up aways. If you wish for water, best go to the barber shop. I've heard Gavotte has a tub but I've never seen it. He charges dear for anything he can.
--Scraping I can get from my modest but faithful dork, Ostinato, who carries with him a half-sharpened bone for just such purposes. But this muddy mire is from pigs and needs serious sloshing. Is there a rill or a pond or a river?
--Of course there is a river, why else would anyone build a town here? Trot your burros, who I dare say could use a bit of a soak themselves, straight ahead for about half an hour. Would you like food when you come back? My mother Augmented can cook.
--Wouldn't that be a charming experience. Can I pay her by singing and frailing on my heart-hole dulcimer?
Take that up with her. She'll have a meal for the two of you one way or another. I'll see to it. And welcome to Capriccio!
Like Ostinato the dork, Diminuendo had said nary a word. He was not yet tax-registered in the town or canton so his father had trained him to lay low until the approaching census. Of course, everyone knew he existed; after all, he was eight years old, but silent to be safe.
2. At the River.
Whilst splashing and scrubbing au naturel in the River Mixolydian, the pair espied a band of miscreants hoving into proximity. Ducking behind shrubbery, they trembled with cold and fear for their donkeys and garments, and not for no reason. It was, they soon observed, the outlaw Sforzando and a crew of seven barrel-chested, hirsute associates with big sticks, and all a-horseback.
This perilous situation was not improved by the presence much too close of a wasp nest, alive with buzzing. At first Sir Gregorio was more afraid of being attacked by the wasps than by the highwaymen. Then Ostinato the dork, silent even yet, crept over to the tree which held the bulb of waspery, picked up a substantial length of loose log and smacked the orotund nest with great force straight toward the thieves, who abandoned any thought of mischief and galloped their steeds like antelopes as thither as possible right now.
Thus saved, the travellers dried off and returned to a hot meal of corn dodgers and chicken. Augmented was more than satisfied to be paid in the currency of song and listened widely to each melodious descant. Burgmeister Major directed Sir and Dork to bunk up in the hayshed where they dozed till cock-cry.
3. The Burgmeister's Dilemma.
While it was undeniable that Semiquaver was fourteen years old and so of marriageable age, Major Seventh Flat-Five was uncomfortable about the looks she exchanged with Sir Gregorio. He was a wanderer, a musician and, worst of all, lank. Any husband coming into this family would have to lug bales, bundle twigs, wrestle stumps and push cows. Gregorio was a sir and neither used to this sort of work nor built for it. Burgmeister Major would keep close watch.
On the other hand, fourteen was getting on and the only batchelor in Capriccio was Duple Duple the twine-twister, who knew nothing else and precious little of that. Twine was a needed commodity, so there was a livelihood ahead for him, but a duller twine-twister never twisted twine. He could not sing, he could not juggle, he could not whistle. He was not pleasing to the eye. But this Sir Gregorio might well want to run off with the Major's daughter rather than fit in with the Capricciosi. That would not do. No.
4. The Progress of The Romance.
And so it came to pass that in the fullness of the morning, after hens had been handled, cows relieved, water dragged, pigs fed and lambs curried, Sir Gregorio and Semiquaver found themselves flopped upon a sward underneath the St. John's Bread tree in back of the old short silo no longer used except for hiding unregistered children from the king's warders.
As befit his nature, Sir Gregorio chanted an epistolary and occasionally tootled on his krummhorn. He seldom did this because it upset his donkey, who seemed to think that it was a previously-thought-lost uncle of his remonstrating him for his misspent life. This was all conjecture on Sir's part since he certainly cannot have known what was in the donkey's mind, such as it was.
Whatever the case might have been, Semiquaver was charmed by the not unhandsome passer-through and conceded a kiss from time to time as seemed to fit the rhythm of the chant and the mood of the melody. These gestures were not a bit lost on Sir Gregorio, who responded in very kind, and as the day wore on, it seemed that the kissing took precedence over the chanting and krummhorn tootling until the absence of the kissers was noted by an agitated Major Seventh Flat-Five, and also by Augmented, though she was rather more tickled than worried.
5. The Ordeal of Ostinato and Diminuendo.
The silent ones, having been abandoned by Sir and Semiquaver, wandered off to whack trees with switches. This activity required no conversation so both were well suited to it. In their absentminded pursuit of oblivion, they pretty much found it in the form of getting lost in the wood. Midday though it was, the thickly canopied wood was much darker than one would have wished, even if one had had a well-functioning wishing-brain.
Not knowing which way to turn, they sat down on a mossbank and stared. An observer might have imagined that they were distressed by their circumstance. This was true. So distressed were they that they cried out loud for hours. The trees and animals and moss paid no attention, so finally they stopped crying and just sat.
6. Everybody Discovered.
Sforzando, astride his horse Fermata, pulled up to the distraught duo and gently asked about their plight. It seems that Sforzando had been stripped of his role as chief troublemaker when he had led his troupe into that wasp encounter. As a result, he too was lost, though not geographically. He uplifted the gents young and not so young onto Fermata and ambled into town, hoping that the sight of him rescuing the lost souls would incline the townsfolk to accept him as a peace-loving resident. If so, he would set up shop as a fletcher, a service he well knew to be wanted.
Back of the silo, Sir Gregorio and Semiquaver found themselves interrupted by the uncertain Major. The three meandered back to the house quietly discussing options and jockeying for position.
7. How It All Ended.
Burgmeister Major Seventh Flat-Five, his wife Augmented, his children Semiquaver and Diminuendo, Sir Gregorio Chant and his dork Ostinato, Sforzando the fletcher cum bandit, and the barber, name of Gavotte, who had just wandered in out of curiosity, sat down to a dumpling dinner over which the future was discussed. Sir Gregorio and Semiquaver proposed that they marry and go off on a quest of some indeterminate nature, accompanied by Ostinato, promising to return and settle down in Capriccio after one year. All consented, Gavotte cut everyone's hair for free on condition they each would rent the tub at least once in the year that would intervene, Sforzando fletched Sir Gregorio's full quiver and Diminuendo finally spoke:
--Bye.
Jack Wilson
Distribute freely
Copyright © 2001 Jack Wilson. All Rights Reserved
~
It Was A Dork And Strummy Knight
1. Arriving in the Town.
It was a dork and strummy knight who came clopping clopping through the muck then. The knight was called Sir Gregorio Chant and his dork was Ostinato. The spring crusades had brought them along from the village of Cantabile in Canton Cadenza to our town of Capriccio, whose burgmeister is the well-known military man, Major Seventh Flat-Five and the burgmeister's wife is Augmented. The Major's children are Semiquaver, the girl, and Diminuendo, the boy. As often happens, it was the children who welcomed the duo.
--Ho, Knight, could'st strum a story for us upon your dulcimer with the hearts for holes and sing sweet neverminds?
--Why yes, young lady, I suppose I could'st as soon as I get myself unmucked. Where might I and my dork get cleaner?
--Well, if you want scraping there's the blacksmith up aways. If you wish for water, best go to the barber shop. I've heard Gavotte has a tub but I've never seen it. He charges dear for anything he can.
--Scraping I can get from my modest but faithful dork, Ostinato, who carries with him a half-sharpened bone for just such purposes. But this muddy mire is from pigs and needs serious sloshing. Is there a rill or a pond or a river?
--Of course there is a river, why else would anyone build a town here? Trot your burros, who I dare say could use a bit of a soak themselves, straight ahead for about half an hour. Would you like food when you come back? My mother Augmented can cook.
--Wouldn't that be a charming experience. Can I pay her by singing and frailing on my heart-hole dulcimer?
Take that up with her. She'll have a meal for the two of you one way or another. I'll see to it. And welcome to Capriccio!
Like Ostinato the dork, Diminuendo had said nary a word. He was not yet tax-registered in the town or canton so his father had trained him to lay low until the approaching census. Of course, everyone knew he existed; after all, he was eight years old, but silent to be safe.
2. At the River.
Whilst splashing and scrubbing au naturel in the River Mixolydian, the pair espied a band of miscreants hoving into proximity. Ducking behind shrubbery, they trembled with cold and fear for their donkeys and garments, and not for no reason. It was, they soon observed, the outlaw Sforzando and a crew of seven barrel-chested, hirsute associates with big sticks, and all a-horseback.
This perilous situation was not improved by the presence much too close of a wasp nest, alive with buzzing. At first Sir Gregorio was more afraid of being attacked by the wasps than by the highwaymen. Then Ostinato the dork, silent even yet, crept over to the tree which held the bulb of waspery, picked up a substantial length of loose log and smacked the orotund nest with great force straight toward the thieves, who abandoned any thought of mischief and galloped their steeds like antelopes as thither as possible right now.
Thus saved, the travellers dried off and returned to a hot meal of corn dodgers and chicken. Augmented was more than satisfied to be paid in the currency of song and listened widely to each melodious descant. Burgmeister Major directed Sir and Dork to bunk up in the hayshed where they dozed till cock-cry.
3. The Burgmeister's Dilemma.
While it was undeniable that Semiquaver was fourteen years old and so of marriageable age, Major Seventh Flat-Five was uncomfortable about the looks she exchanged with Sir Gregorio. He was a wanderer, a musician and, worst of all, lank. Any husband coming into this family would have to lug bales, bundle twigs, wrestle stumps and push cows. Gregorio was a sir and neither used to this sort of work nor built for it. Burgmeister Major would keep close watch.
On the other hand, fourteen was getting on and the only batchelor in Capriccio was Duple Duple the twine-twister, who knew nothing else and precious little of that. Twine was a needed commodity, so there was a livelihood ahead for him, but a duller twine-twister never twisted twine. He could not sing, he could not juggle, he could not whistle. He was not pleasing to the eye. But this Sir Gregorio might well want to run off with the Major's daughter rather than fit in with the Capricciosi. That would not do. No.
4. The Progress of The Romance.
And so it came to pass that in the fullness of the morning, after hens had been handled, cows relieved, water dragged, pigs fed and lambs curried, Sir Gregorio and Semiquaver found themselves flopped upon a sward underneath the St. John's Bread tree in back of the old short silo no longer used except for hiding unregistered children from the king's warders.
As befit his nature, Sir Gregorio chanted an epistolary and occasionally tootled on his krummhorn. He seldom did this because it upset his donkey, who seemed to think that it was a previously-thought-lost uncle of his remonstrating him for his misspent life. This was all conjecture on Sir's part since he certainly cannot have known what was in the donkey's mind, such as it was.
Whatever the case might have been, Semiquaver was charmed by the not unhandsome passer-through and conceded a kiss from time to time as seemed to fit the rhythm of the chant and the mood of the melody. These gestures were not a bit lost on Sir Gregorio, who responded in very kind, and as the day wore on, it seemed that the kissing took precedence over the chanting and krummhorn tootling until the absence of the kissers was noted by an agitated Major Seventh Flat-Five, and also by Augmented, though she was rather more tickled than worried.
5. The Ordeal of Ostinato and Diminuendo.
The silent ones, having been abandoned by Sir and Semiquaver, wandered off to whack trees with switches. This activity required no conversation so both were well suited to it. In their absentminded pursuit of oblivion, they pretty much found it in the form of getting lost in the wood. Midday though it was, the thickly canopied wood was much darker than one would have wished, even if one had had a well-functioning wishing-brain.
Not knowing which way to turn, they sat down on a mossbank and stared. An observer might have imagined that they were distressed by their circumstance. This was true. So distressed were they that they cried out loud for hours. The trees and animals and moss paid no attention, so finally they stopped crying and just sat.
6. Everybody Discovered.
Sforzando, astride his horse Fermata, pulled up to the distraught duo and gently asked about their plight. It seems that Sforzando had been stripped of his role as chief troublemaker when he had led his troupe into that wasp encounter. As a result, he too was lost, though not geographically. He uplifted the gents young and not so young onto Fermata and ambled into town, hoping that the sight of him rescuing the lost souls would incline the townsfolk to accept him as a peace-loving resident. If so, he would set up shop as a fletcher, a service he well knew to be wanted.
Back of the silo, Sir Gregorio and Semiquaver found themselves interrupted by the uncertain Major. The three meandered back to the house quietly discussing options and jockeying for position.
7. How It All Ended.
Burgmeister Major Seventh Flat-Five, his wife Augmented, his children Semiquaver and Diminuendo, Sir Gregorio Chant and his dork Ostinato, Sforzando the fletcher cum bandit, and the barber, name of Gavotte, who had just wandered in out of curiosity, sat down to a dumpling dinner over which the future was discussed. Sir Gregorio and Semiquaver proposed that they marry and go off on a quest of some indeterminate nature, accompanied by Ostinato, promising to return and settle down in Capriccio after one year. All consented, Gavotte cut everyone's hair for free on condition they each would rent the tub at least once in the year that would intervene, Sforzando fletched Sir Gregorio's full quiver and Diminuendo finally spoke:
--Bye.
Jack Wilson
Distribute freely
Copyright © 2001 Jack Wilson. All Rights Reserved
~
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