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Authors: John Claude Bemis

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BOOK: The Nine Pound Hammer
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Conker and Ray exchanged a puzzled look. “What do you mean, Nel?” Conker asked.

Nel placed the rabbit’s foot on the table. He removed the tasseled fez from his head and loosened the cravat to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. His fingers located a cord of rawhide around his neck and pulled up what seemed at first to be a pendant. It was large and heavy and fashioned of silver. As Nel held the object up for the boys to see, Ray realized it was a foot—an animal’s paw.

“This old fox paw”—Nel nodded to the silver paw—“was once here.” And he tapped his peg leg with a knuckle.

Ray snapped his eyes to Conker to see if Conker had known this, but the giant’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to speak. “You were a Rambler?” Conker whispered.

Nel nodded as he returned the paw back inside his shirt. “Long ago. Until a Hoarhound took my leg off.”

Nel sighed and Ray could see the struggle in the pitchman’s face before he continued. “It happened not long after your father died, Conker. The Machine was destroyed, but not the Gog. I was part of a band of Ramblers—along with your father, Ray—who hunted him down. There was a battle against the Gog’s army: men and beasts of clockwork and frost. Many Ramblers were killed. I was attacked by a Hoarhound. I was fortunate to only lose part of my leg. In the end, the Gog’s army was defeated. But the Gog escaped.

“The battle broke me. To see so many of my friends die, it destroyed a part of me, in a way I can never explain. And my Rambler powers, too; once my leg was severed, I lost them. I don’t know why.

“If it had not been for your mother, Conker … I loved Polly Ann very much. She was like a daughter to me. She was fearful that agents of the Gog might come for her. There were Ramblers disappearing, being killed … their families, too. The Gog knew who she was. He might find her.

“Fortunately the Gog thought I had died in the battle. You see, Ray, you are not the only one who has had to take
on a pseudonym in order to hide from the Gog’s agents. Cornelius Carter is not my real name. I’m Joe Nelson. Not so flashy, is it?” He chuckled. “No, the Rambler Joe Nelson was dead. And the pitchman Peg Leg Nel Carter was born. I took you in, Conker. I took in other children who were in danger from the Gog. I was a Rambler no longer—in both name and ability. But I knew how to do root work. I could make tonics. That is how the medicine show began.”

Ray stumbled for words, but the revelation that Nel had once been a Rambler left him speechless.

Conker’s jaw tightened as he asked, “Did the Gog … did he kill my mother?”

Nel’s expression saddened again. “She tried to hide. She moved around, keeping to the wilderness—for what you don’t realize, Conker, is that Polly Ann was a Rambler, too.”

Conker’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “But the Gog tracked her down?”

Nel nodded. “His agents. Yes. Those were hard times. With John Henry’s sacrifice, the Ramblers had struck a terrible blow to the Gog. He was weakened. He needed to rebuild his Machine. The Gog still had his servants. And one by one the Ramblers were hunted down and killed.”

Nel paused to light his briarwood pipe. After drawing on it, he motioned with the pipe to Ray. “I wasn’t the only one who left the Ramblers. Your father, Ray … he had met a wonderful woman, your mother, and fell in love. He had seen so much death and destruction at the hands of the Gog. He no longer wanted to wander the fringes of the
world as a warden. He wanted more than ever to be a part of
this
world.

“He left the Ramblers, left the wild. But years later, when you must have been just a youngster, word got to him that the Gog was building a new machine, one far worse than the first. And for reasons the Ramblers didn’t know at the time, the sirens were threatened.”

“How did you know all this?” Ray asked. “If you were no longer a Rambler. Who told you?”

“I did,” Buck answered, crossing his arms on the table. “Nel and I became friends after I left the
Snapdragon
. But I was also helping the Ramblers, and they sent me to find your father. It took several visits to convince him.”

“You?” Ray asked.

Buck nodded. “Li’l Bill was afraid that your mother might be threatened, that the Gog might come for his family if they found out about you. So she moved around and changed her name.

“Ray, your father”—Buck put his hands together as he continued—“he wanted to return to you, to his family. All those years, he didn’t even know that your mother had given birth to a daughter. It was hard on him, Ray. Hard to be away from those he loved. But it was a sacrifice he had to make.”

Ray could not help but feel the jealous anger toward Jolie well up in him. Jolie had said his father had loved her as a daughter. Had he loved Jolie more than his own family?

Ray asked, “What will happen to Jolie?”

Buck cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“Mother Salagi said the Gog needs Jolie—her siren voice—to capture people for his Machine. What will happen to her? You can’t hide her on this train forever!”

Buck frowned as Nel said, “The truth is, we don’t know what we are going to do with her. We’re just worried about getting her healthy and strong again. Then we will look for a place—not on the train, I assure you—where she can live safely.”

“But the Gog might find her,” Ray said. “You think he doesn’t know about you, Mister Nel, but he knew that the Pirate Queen had a siren-song music box. He will find her eventually.”

“And what are you proposing?” Nel answered, his brow darkening.

“We need to stop the Gog!” Ray frowned.

Nel spread his hands wide on the table, looking from Conker to Ray several times. “Don’t you understand all that I just told you? Weren’t you listening? The Gog is more powerful than you imagine. Do you think that because Conker now has the Nine Pound Hammer and you have your father’s hand, that you are going to be able to defeat the Gog?”

Conker leaned forward, his jaw trembling as he spoke. “But Nel … if we had your help and Buck’s and Si’s … she’s awful tough!”

“Three children and a couple of old men aren’t going
to defeat the Gog!” Nel shouted. He winced, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself. “Don’t you see, Conker? I promised your mother I’d protect you. I have the lives of all these children aboard our train to think about. Get it out of your heads, boys! We stand no chance against the Gog.”

A long silence followed. Finally, Nel pushed back his chair. “Go eat, boys. You’ve had a long journey. You probably need rest. But please think about what I’ve said. Promise me you won’t do anything foolish.”

Ray looked at Conker, but the giant’s eyes were downturned. Nel looked sharply at Ray. “Promise me.”

Ray nodded. “Okay, Mister Nel. We won’t do anything foolish.”

When they had stepped back into the blazing sunlight, Conker turned to Ray. “What are we going to do?”

“Figure a way to stop the Gog,” Ray said.

“I thought you promised we wouldn’t do anything foolish?”

“Foolish would be pretending that the Gog isn’t going to find us, isn’t going to track down Jolie, isn’t going to rebuild his Machine!”

Conker waved a hand to shush Ray.

Ray frowned at him. “Remember what you said, about not hiding under Nel’s skirt anymore?”

“Yeah,” Conker mumbled, as he headed up the steps to their sleeping car to hide the Nine Pound Hammer in his room. “But it ain’t that simple, Ray.”

*  *  *

Redfeather was bobbing for flaming apples as he finished his performance. The crowd was roaring. Sitting at the back of the stage, Ray was frustrated. Frustrated with Conker. Frustrated with Nel. Frustrated with his father. But mostly, he was frustrated with himself. He had been holding the rabbit’s foot when he slept, talking to it, rubbing it, trying to figure out some way to make the rabbit’s foot do something, anything!

He had no idea what he was supposed to do. How could they stop the Gog?

After he helped Nel sell the tonics to the last of the crowd, Ray took his cap from his head, wiped his sweaty hair, and plopped on the edge of the stage to rest his feet. A few people from the audience remained, as they often did, to talk to the performers.

Ray watched Marisol as she let a trio of children pet Javier. She smiled and spoke encouragingly to the kids. Ray raised an eyebrow. This was not a side of Marisol he saw very often. She could be kind, when she wasn’t ingratiating herself to Seth.

Looking around, Ray saw Seth at the far end of the tent, speaking to a man. With his stiff bowler hat, somber dark suit, and serious expression, the man did not look like one of the usual types of people who attended the medicine show. Seth said something, and the man gave a sour smile, a gold tooth flashing from his mouth.

“Ray.”

Ray turned as Buck approached. “Oh, hey, Buck.”

“Jolie says you haven’t visited her since you got back,” the cowboy said in his low, crackling voice.

“Yeah, I will,” Ray sighed.

“Something wrong?” Buck asked, his eyelids parting a moment to reveal the pale orbs beneath.

“No,” Ray said. “I’ve been meaning to.”

“How about now?” Buck said. He held out the key.

Ray grimaced and took it. “Thanks.”

He hopped from the stage and walked slowly down the train until he reached Jolie’s car. He knocked at the door as he unlocked the latch. “Jolie,” he called, turning the handle.

There was a splash of water and then the smack of wet feet on the floor. Ray blinked as he came in, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness. Jolie stood before the tank, smiling at Ray.

“Hey,” Ray said. He tried hard not to think of those eight years his father had been away.

“Hello.” Her smile faded as she looked at Ray curiously.

He propped his hands in his pockets. “How have you been?”

She shrugged. Ray looked at her face. Her complexion looked worse, even more ashen, with darker circles hanging beneath her eyes.

“Buck said you left,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Where did you go?”

“Away.”

“Oh,” Jolie said softly. “Has something upset you?”

“No.” Ray glowered at the floor.

“Oh,” Jolie repeated. Awkward silence lingered as Jolie stared at Ray and Ray stared at his brogans. Finally, Jolie said, “Why did you come here, Ray?”

“Because Buck wanted me to,” Ray said.

“Is that the only reason you have been visiting me all these times?”

Ray clinched his jaw. A hurt look welled up on Jolie’s face, and she turned away, her wet, tangled hair slapping across her bare arms. Then she spun back to face Ray fiercely. “I thought you were my friend, Ray. At least, I thought we were becoming friends. I did not realize this was just out of pity for the poor siren. Well, I will give you permission. I will let Buck know. You do not have to come here anymore.”

“Fine,” Ray said.

“Fine!” Jolie snapped back, but Ray saw bright tears flash to her eyes.

Ray got as far as the door when he stopped. She doesn’t deserve this, he thought. He walked back to Jolie, who was about to climb over the glass into the tank.

“What?” she said, a dark tangle of hair veiling part of her face. “Why are you being so terrible?”

“I know I am,” Ray said. “It’s not your fault. It’s not even my father’s fault. Conker tried to tell me all that.”

Jolie dropped from the glass back to the floor. “What are you talking about?”

“Jolie, I left because I found out my father is Li’l Bill.” Ray took out the rabbit’s foot and showed it to her. As Ray sat on the wooden floor, Jolie knelt beside him, listening intently. Ray explained about everything that he had discovered. He also laid out all the anger and resentment that he had felt toward Jolie. She nodded sympathetically as he spoke, but did not interrupt.

“I know I was wrong, but I couldn’t help it,” Ray said, feeling much better when he finished.

“Ray, I am sorry,” Jolie said, resting her chin on her knees. “I know it does not make up for all that you have had to go through, but Little Bill did speak often about his family. He did miss you and your mother. Of course, he never knew about your sister, but I am sure he would be sad to know that he had missed her birth and her childhood.” Then Jolie winced, a sad expression falling over her face. “I have caused so much trouble.”

Ray shifted uncomfortably. “Jolie—”

“You were right to be angry with me. All the others must hate me for the danger I am bringing. I would not blame them. I wonder if it would be better if I just ran away.” She shook a long lock of hair over her eyes.

“You know that’s not true!” Ray said.

Jolie shrugged, running her fingers through a puddle on the floor.

Ray watched her a moment before saying, “We’re going to find a safe place for you. Nel and Buck are trying. Don’t worry.”

“I just wish I could understand why the Gog is after me …,” Jolie murmured.

“I think I know.”

Jolie looked up at Ray, her eyes wide. Ray sighed and then said, “It’s your song. He wants to use it to control people. To lead them to his Machine.”

“I would never do that!” Jolie growled. “I would never help him.”

Ray nodded. “You used your song on me … that time you thought I was after you. What does it do? Can you just make people do whatever you want?”

“In a way,” Jolie said. “I have never used it much. I have never had a need, except when hunting. The sirens tell of sisters who rescue drowning sailors and use the song to make husbands of them. A siren born this way is a full siren. My father gave his love freely to my mother. That is why I am only part siren.”

She seemed to struggle a moment to take a breath. Her complexion looked pale, paler than usual. She continued, “Love given freely like that means it can be taken away again. My father left my mother and she died because of it.”

Ray waited before asking, “But if the Gog’s agents
came for you, couldn’t you just use your song to stop them?”

Jolie shook her head and for a moment seemed dizzy. “My powers are not the same as my sisters’. Their song could stop a great number. It is why the sirens have escaped captivity and notice … for so long. I do not think”—she was breathing heavily now, long slow gulps—“my song could control more than one at a time.”

BOOK: The Nine Pound Hammer
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