A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) (3 page)

“And that’ll be enough out of you, me Too-rah, Loo-rah, LeBiz’zare. You’ll be coming with us now, Sunny Jim.”

“I say, gentlemen, I strongly advise you to exercise caution and avoid the bones, candles, and unspeakable charms strewn in amongst the flooragram across which you walk, eh hem?”

“It is the time of instigation!”

Sku LeBiz’zare’s hands weave in mystic formations.

“Oh my Goodness, y’all, the flooragram is starting to glow!”

“Everyone out of that circle, immediately!”

“Eek! Er, I mean, use caution, Citizens, the flooragram is shooting up beams of green-tinged light!”

“Hahahahahahaha!”

The VooDoo man holds up a wood and wire cage full of frightened chickens.

“A sacrifice! Ha, ha. One sacrifice begets another. Ha, ha.”

With three, quick, sure movements, the malevolent mystic snatches three poor birds from their cage and throws them into the center of the floor.

Everything and everyone stops: our entourage, Sku Le Biz’zare, and the chickens.

All eyes are on the chicken show.

The chickens look around at us in confusion.

“Golly, y’all, I thought something scary was going to...hunh? What’s happening to the chickens?”

“One chicken has winked, lad.”

“Affirmative, O’Hagan. I now have visual confirmation of another chicken having blinked.”

“That fool chicken just nodded at me!”

“I see, Winken, Blinken, and Nodde, eh hem?”

“Woah, watch out! White and green flames are burning intently throughout the flooragram! Now it’s dying back down.”

“Look at those chickens, y’all, are they all right? Smoke is oozing from the feathers of the bewildered birds.”

“Winkin is a twitching, me kiddies.”

“Positive visuals confirm Blinkin in a spasm attack.”

“That fool Nodde is shuddering like a like a funky chicken.”

Slowly, one by one, and then suddenly, all at once, the three begin to grow and expand at an alarming rate.

“Oh my Goodness, they are getting bigger, y’all!”

“Aye, Winkin gets more snarly as he grows.”

“Citizen chicken Blinkin grows more feisty.”

“Yes, and Nodde is in as an agitated state as I have ever seen a chicken!”

“Gee whiz, y’all, these birds get meaner and scarier the bigger they get!”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, gentlemen,” scolds a perplexed Persephone Plumtartt. “Shoot the foul creatures!”

I consider shooting Sku Le Biz’zare, but I cannot bring myself to shoot a man armed with only a chicken. Instead, I fire on Winkin, but I only wing him.

BUH-
WHOOOMP
.
POW!!!

BUH-
WHOOOMP
. POW!!!

Concussive blasts shake the house as the constables get off two discharges from their ectoplasmic enhanced rifles, but these eight foot chickens are nimble. Each is able to easily dodge the blasts headed their way.

“Bloomers and Blarney, now the chickens are after us!”

“They’ve got us running around like a chicken with its...”

“Don’t say it, Reverend, there’s a lady present.”

“All right, me pugilistic poltergoose, you and I are going to come to an understanding. Ow, ow, ow! I understand, You, me giant chicken, are the better man! Keefer, help!”

“I say, Mr. Temperance and company, your well intended combative efforts are meeting with limited success, eh hem?”

“Ha, ha, ha. My protective beasts are impervious to your blows! You cannot hurt them! Ha, ha, ha.”

“Aye, Skully Bizzare is right! Our strikes have no effect against the monsters!”

“This is a distressing situation, citizens. It looks like we are to be feed for the uncooped.”

“Reverend Dolomite, bless my canteen!”

“Bless your canteen? I’ll bless your sweet bippy, you Alabama fool! No, wait, I gotcha! Dear Lord, bless the water in this canteen that it may be used to smite thy enemies! Amen and Hallelujah! Pass the ammunition, boy.”

“Yessir, just let me splash some Holy water on my boots!”

“I say, Mr. Temperance, let your blessed boots bear bounty against these behemoth battle bantams, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Likewise, let the Reverend wring righteous retribution against these rambunctious wrens.”

“Hallelujah, sister!”

“I say, jolly good, gentlemen. Give those hens of heck the once over twice, if you would. Constable Smith, I prevail upon you to engage your rifle, sir.”

“Good idea, Citizen of Great Britain Persephone.”

BUH-
WHOOOMP
.
POW!!!
BO
O
OM!!!

(The sounds are of the ecto-plasmic charge, discharge, and subsequent exploding monster chicken.)

“Good golly, Winkin’s explosive demise has knocked everybody off their feet and claws.”

“Curse you, Dolomite! The Great Shift will succeed in spite of your interference! The ‘Sin-dicate shall have her prize!”

“Come back here, Mr. Biz’zare! Oh my Goodness, he has jumped up on Blinkin’s back!”

Blinkin stands on one leg, and claws at the air with the other, with wings flapping and feathers flying.

“Hahahahahahaha!”

Sku Le Biz’zare and his two-legged stallion crash through a window.

“That window costs money! I’m taking it out of your hide!”

“Gimme a boost, Officer O’Hagan!”

“Up you go, Ickety!”

Mr. O’Hagan adroitly gives me a lift, landing me atop of Nodde. Nodde does not bother with a dramatic raking of the air as Blinkin did, but charges straight in hot pursuit of the Caribbean creep out the window.

My eight foot fowl is fleet of foot, fast of flight, and fierce in fight.

We make tracks. The yardbirds have hit the streets.

It looks like Sku LeBiz’zare is having about as much luck controlling his mount as I am mine, which is to say, not much.

Both giant birds careen down the Santa Monica Boulevard in a mad zig-zag pursuit of one another. It is arguable as to who is actually chasing whom. We all seem to be in a ricochet race, bouncing off of horses that scramble and fight to stay out of our way. Wagons are upset. Carriages are crushed. Our pursuit is all that matters. We painfully make our way down the street, somehow managing to bounce off of every thing that cannot get out of the way fast enough. These great birds are able to leap wagons and frightened horses when necessary. Spinning, ducking, and running, these ornithological menaces make mean mayhem.

This is New Year’s Eve, and the streets are crowded with people! Folks are staying out to see the fireworks!

Patriotic patriarchs prevail upon their pups to pitter-patter before they are pummeled into the pavement by the unpredictable phosphorescent fowl.

We hit an open square when Santa Monica hits Western Avenue. Traffic gives us the right of way. Our red-hot race has suddenly cooled. Sku LeBiz’zare and I take each other’s measure. So too, do Blinkin and Nodde. The combatant chickens seize the moment to size each other up. Taking advantage of the wide open intersection we circle each other. The VooDoo priest curses me in French. Our avian steeds eye each other with murderous intent. Blinkin intends to send Nodde to see Winkin, and vice versa. Me and the San Moniquan menace lose control of our mounts as we are all plunged into a real life chicken fight.

The overgrown birds run directly at one another and meet in a hail of feathers. Vicious pecks with slavering beaks accompany deadly rakes of gruesome claw.

“Nodde, where are you going? Don’t run away, we can take ‘em!”

F~
A~
H
~
W
H
O
O
O
O
SH
!
HUH
~
WH
O
O
O
M
P
-PUH!

A fireball has just whooshed by our ears and exploded in front of us!

Nodde is barely able to escape getting our goose cooked!

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

That bedlam-based Bokor is pitching spheres of fire at us!

F~
A~
H
~
W
H
O
O
O
O
SH
!
HUH
~
WH
O
O
O
M
P
-PUH!

“Augh! Unh!”

That fireball got us, knocking Nodde down and sending me tumbling.

“Hey, Nodde, where are you going? Don’t leave me!”

Blink comes to a stop; the mystic dismounts his distressed bird. Blinkin goes to finish his business with Nodde.

“You interfere with things you do not comprehend, Mon.”

Eyes gleam from the terrifying, skeleton painted face.

I uncork the hardest punch I got!

“Ha, ha. I easily block your puny efforts. How about a nice, San Moniquan punch?”

~Pow!~

Ow, that hurt. Where am I? Oh yeah, the Caribbean, VooDoo guy.

I look up from a seated position as Sku LeBiz’zare raises a steel, skull-headed cane high above his head in preparation of crushing my non-steel skull head.

“Your impotent efforts cannot stop what is in play. There is a planetary shift in the balance of power and you will be fodder for the new ‘Order’. It begins tonight!”

The white irises of Sku Le Biz’zare see red!

“I’m not through with you yet, you witch doctor devil! Eee-Yes!-Ah.”

“Aye-eee!”

Sku LeBiz’zare had to jump to keep from being run over by Officer Smith’s steam-carriage!

The steamer screeches to a halt as Smith and O’Hagan rush in to grab our foe.

“Your new year, me bucko, shall be spent in our comfy new jail, Boneface.”

“You’re under arrest, Citizen of San Monique.”

The menace is pulled to his feet.

Sku LeBiz’zare rallies, striking O’Hagan in the gut with his weighted cane, and then points the other end of his walking stick into Officer Smith’s face. The treacherous terror releases a noxious plume of purple smoke from his canundrous cane, blinding and choking the big man.

“I say, that really is quite enough! This ends now!”

Miss Plumtartt is activating her incredible powers! She is concentrating and focusing her energies.

The English adventuress thrusts her palms outward toward the cruel Caribbean. Her delicate hands glow with an internal red illumination.

“
At
you!”

A crimson sphere of energy forms at her fingertips and flies away from Miss Plumtartt to blast against the fiend.

The scarlet ball dissipates on contact, passing over the oblivious Bokor without effect.

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

“I possess charms to protect against your puny powers, foolish woman!”

“The Great Shift begins!”

Sku Le Biz’zare makes an evil sign with his hands.

He intones an unclean word.

He holds a small, leather packet aloft.

There is something evil about that small pouch.

Southern California is unaware of her danger. She continues with her festive revelries, and excited merriments.

Around us, we hear the multitudes of Los Angelos citizenry, counting down the last seconds to midnight.

Their subtractions correspond to the climax of Sku LeBiz’zare’s spell.

“Three!”

“Two!”

‘One!”

‘Happy New Year!”

Gunfire and fireworks explode throughout Los Angelos.

Sku LeBiz’zare smiles.

“Your own worthless soul shall be the catalyst of catastrophe. Let the Great Shift begin!”

BAM!

Sku LeBiz’zare falls on his painted face.

“You shall
feel
, the word of the Lord. Eee-
yes!
”

The Right Reverend Alonzo Dolomite stands over the fallen bad guy with two hands gripping his substantial and heavy-with-goodness Bible.

This is a good book indeed.

“You better learn to walk in the light, you ugly devil. Praise God and Hallelujah!”

“Howdy Miss GoldenBear, it sure is fine to see you, Ma’am!”

“Thank you Ichabod. I am relieved to see you and Persephone still alive, knowing the peril you faced when last we met.”

“Quite so, Abigail, but at the risk of being brusque, I wonder what intrigue you have for us, eh hem?”

Sharp, hawk-like eyes of the tall, American Indian woman take us in their penetrating gaze. The maroon dress and attractive features, do little to disguise the noble, yet fierce, nature of the native American Indian. Wearing her coal black hair pulled back tight, Abigail GoldenBear’s severe beauty exceeds complement by fashion. Miss GoldenBear is an honourable warrior.

The black haired Princess of the Emporium looks long and hard at the two of us. It’s tough being under the scrutiny of those midnight peepers.

“I am about to tell you something I have not shared with anyone else. In this post-Comet world, we are fated to deal with many things out of the ordinary. Just as our knowledge in the sciences has granted us many wondrous inventions, so too has it developed things not so wisely. Man’s emotion is often unchecked. A thirst for power the world over is unleashed as never before in history. Ego-maniacal madmen from all over this earth jockey for dominance and intend to rule the planet by force. It is my belief that there are forces at work exacerbating the problem to ensure that the world plunges into warfare.”

“Moreover, I feel a sense of foreboding in unexpected quarters. There is unrest in the animal populations. The Revelatory Comet affected many of Earth's animals, as well as many in humanity. I have a sympathetic alliance with things of the supernatural, and fear that this lust for power could have spread to hidden and extremely dangerous quarters.”

“I say, we come fresh from contact with a VooDoo practitioner that dropped several hints about being a part of a larger conspiracy. I wonder if there is a connection with the unrest that you are sensing, Abigail?”

“There very well might, Persephone.”

“The newspapers are full of the talk of war, Miss GoldenBear. Our country is being led into a  global conflict that we oughtta be avoiding. And I ain’t surprised to hear of an effect upon the animal species of the world, neither. Me and Miss Plumtartt have been witness to some unusual occurrences ourselves. What action do you propose?”

“We must follow our intuition, Ichabod. My guts are telling me to reconnoiter the Northern forests.”

“I say, jolly good, an outing in the woods! It sounds as if we are in for a picnic!”

*~~~*

“Where is Miss Plumtartt, Ichabod?”

“We both had us some shopping to do to equip ourselves for this outing, Miss GoldenBear, Ma’am. She said she would meet us here at the airfield.”

“You are strangely equipped, Ichabod.”

“Yes, Ma’am, thanks for noticing, Miss GoldenBear, Ma’am. I stopped off and built me a new pistol to my own specifications. It is an ectoplasm-based weapons platform. I call it my Pee-Gee Double Dee. That stands for Plasmo-Gasmic Discharge Device.”

“That is a provocative way to denote the device, Ichabod.”

“Really, do you think so? Thanks, Miss GoldenBear! Hey, here comes Miss Plumtartt.”

“Why is she accompanied by three wagons?”

“I told you; she went shopping.”

“Persephone, I am afraid all of this baggage cannot accompany us.”

“But I do so enjoy having nice things.”

“Have a look at our transport.”

We all three look at the indicated conveyance.

“Ho, ho, I say, that
is
amusing! No, really, which is our means of transportation, eh hem? I look about this field at the many aircraft. That mammoth Zeppelin over beyond the advertising blimps will easily bear my many articles of clothing.”

“No, Persephone, this is, indeed, our mode of transport.”

Incongruous to its environment, sits a large rowboat. Approximately forty feet in length, she is of shallow draft, and wide amidships. A dozen oars of peculiar, feathered design line her hull, six to a side. She is gaily painted in bright reds, yellows, blues, and greens. The name “
Scheherazade
” is painted in golden script on her bow and across her fantail.

“My word, aren’t you funny, having me on. But no, really, I should like to be shown to my cabins as soon as possible.”

“Miss Plumtartt, I thought I had made it clear that we were to be on an outdoor excursion.”

“I say, yes, of course you did. You say this land galley shall be our magic carpet into the wilderness?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

We are approached by a group of men. They are leading eight large horses. The horses are all laden with great, heavy, saddle bags of sand, piled up on their backs. This is to keep the horses on the ground so they don’t float away. The men have to sit their weight down onto the ropes to keep that from happening. The horses scamper in their harnesses, touching the Earth every few seconds. Above them is a cigar-shaped balloon, tapered at the ends. Ribs support its shape within. A thurible of fire suspended below an aperture allows the lifting heat entrance to its container.

“Oh, I see! Hear, hear, jolly good!””

“The heights won’t bother you, Persephone?”

“Oh no, I quite enjoy an open air, air-vessel, as compared to an enclosed, as we see on display with the Zeppelin.”

“Good for you, Persephone, I quite agree. We may be of a closer temperament than I had at first thought.”

“Do not let the varying shades of lavender adorning the pretty dress, petticoats, bustle, hat and parasol fool you, Abigail, my dear. I will not let my companions down in stressful situations.”

Miss GoldenBear surveys Miss Plumtartt anew.

“I may have been quick to judge you by appearance alone, Miss Plumtartt. I shall reserve judgment on you until I can make more observations.”

“I could not ask for more, my dear lady.”

The gaseous, yam-shaped envelope is pulled into position; a net stretches over the top of the balloon. This is attached to the boat via a system of pulleys.

As lift is transferred to the galley, the horses walk free. Heavy cleats, sunken deep into the ground, take the weight of the air-ship as it wants to float upwards from the Earth.

Miss GoldenBear and I throw in our bags.

Miss Plumtartt’s baggage wagon pulls forward.

“Wait a minute,” says Miss GoldenBear. “We need to trim that load.”

“Oh, pooh, and I just bought so many nice things. Very well. This, this, and this may be sent back to the hotel for further instructions as to their delivery.”

The decisive damsel makes a few ruthless decisions and whittles down the baggage load. A more acceptable amount of luggage is brought aboard.

“And of course, this must stay with me,” says Miss Plumtartt, indicating a strongly built, specialized trunk. It has the appearance of a cello case.

“Looks heavy.” says Miss GoldenBear. She lifts the trunk. “This thing
is
heavy!” What do you have in here?”

“A device of Mr. Temperance’s design.”

“It is something that may come in handy if things get dicey, Miss GoldenBear. I designed it; however, Miss Plumtartt saw to its construction.”

“I am really very handy with my parasol, but in a bad spot, I should like to have this uncanny weapon at my command.”

Miss GoldenBear sets the instrument case down and opens it.

“Of course it needs to be assembled, but you should be able to figure out its design and use, Ma’am.”

Miss GoldenBear studies the strange collection of mechanata, air bottles, harness, and barrel grouping. Each of these has an apparent specialized function. Brightly festooned hatboxes contain the device’s munitions. A realization of their use sweeps across Miss GoldenBear’s strong features.

“Do you mean to say that you are competent in the operation of this device, Persephone?”

“Quite so,” replies the auburn haired girl, “for as Mr. Temperance just said, I oversaw its construction and manufacture.”

“My esteem grows, Miss Plumtartt. Yes, by all means, bring your heavy firepower. We might need it, and much more, before this task is done.”

*~~~*

“Ooh, the bubbles tickle my nose, Miss Plumtartt!”

“I say, Mr. Temperance, these tangerines go with the champagne in a most pleasing fashion, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am, they do. Gee, we sure are way up in the air! From up here, the fields of them farms look like a big quilt, don’t they, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am?”

“I agree, sir. This
is
a charming view, I say.”

“Um, Miss Plumtartt?”

“Mr. Temperance?”

“Do you think it’s all right if we sit right up next to each other like this?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Temperance. Rest assured, we are safely chaperoned, sir.”

“Whew, that’s good. Say, that sure was nice of Captain Jack Half-toe (freight accident), to share the bubbly and fruits with us!”

“Hear, hear, I say. What a marvelous voyage, Mr. Temperance. I have traveled in the most luxuriant of fashions, but no other manner can approach this level of elegance. This flying boat literally swims through the atmosphere, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am. The big, feathery oars look like wings, but act like paddles. With the big, feathery, ailerons attached to the front and the plumed, feathery, vertical, rudder on the back, the
Scheherazade
looks and acts like a floating fish!”

“I say, do you see a dot upon the horizon, Mr. Temperance?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I do.”

“I believe it to be an aircraft in the far distance.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I agree. I think it is a gigantic Zeppelin, like we saw this morning.”

“Quite so, Mr. Temperance. Good Heavens, there are more, stretching out in a line behind the first.”

“Golly, it’s a whole fleet of Zeppelins!”

“May I borrow your binoculars, Mr. Temperance?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“These aircraft are built for war! They are flying battleships! Bristling with fearsome weaponry, this is an armada of the United States Air Service!”

“May I take a look, Ma’am? Golly Gee Whillikers, look at those ships! Those are ‘Lincoln’ class battleships! They are the most technologically advanced warcraft there ever could be!”

“I judge by their heading that they are bound for the United States Pacific Fleet in San Diego. I fear this to be a staging area for further military exploits, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am. It is terrible to see our armies mobilized, and fleets prepared, along with all the other sabre rattlers around the world. We’ve been heading North over these California valleys, but it looks like Miss GoldenBear is having Captain Half-toe, freight accident, take us down to land on that lake.”

“I want to know what the gossip is in this area, Ichabod.”

“I say, this solitary vestige of civilization may be our only hope for conversation. The lone wilderness outpost is denoted, ‘Harry’s Lunch’.”

“I reckon that’s Harry, behind the counter, spit-shining a beer mug. The only other customer is an oblivious mountain man.”

“Are y’all still serving food?”

“Nope!”

“Drinks?”

“Yup! What’ll ya have?”

I look at the lack of stock on the shelf and the leaky barrels.

“How about three flat beers?”

“Coming right up!”

“That boy at the bar looks like he ain’t got a friend in the world. Is it okay to invite him over, Miss Plumtartt?”

“By all means, Mr. Temperance.”

“Howdy friend, would you like to join us for a beer?”

“Thanks, mister, I reckon a little company is just what I need.”

“Happy to oblige, buddy. What’s your name?”

“Goose.” he says, slumping into a chair at our table. “Goose O’Malley.”

“I say, would you feel better to be able to confide your troubles to us, Mr. O’Malley, eh hem?”

Goose is startled to hear the sparkle and tinkle of fine crystal in the air with Miss Plumtartt’s unexpected, and sophisticated, English accent. It dazzles him for a moment and he has to shake himself to come back around. I am familiar with the feeling as I am often struck by the same sensation.

“Yes’m, it sure would. I seen a man go down. He was a real man and a real cowboy, Mr. Cambridge was. He knew something was wrong. Mr. Cambridge knew them animals weren’t acting right.”

“My word, an animal was acting in an uncharacteristic manner, you say, eh hem?”

Goose is again caught by the beauty and intellect conveyed in Miss Plumtartt’s aristocratic British accent. He catches his breath for a moment before continuing.

“Yes’m. It was a herd of buffalo. They weren’t acting natural at all. We thought we were tracking them, but really, they were tracking us.”

The hair on the back of my neck begins to rise.

“Them buffalo set us up.”