The Title of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 8) (7 page)

“You,
must
.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Um, let’s see, I’ll just try walking in this metal suit again toward the Beemer.”

clank. klinckety-clankclankclank, kink!

“Golly, this here suit looks mighty fine, but I don’t like wearing the awful thing worth a nickel! I can’t hardly see where I’m going in this dang pot-bellied hinged helmet and don’t know when to stop when I get there. Don’t let me scratch the steam-carriage, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am.”

“You are now beside the creation.”

“The boys in the shop have got her furnace hot and steam pressure is up. I reckon I better get around there and assist you to your seat.”

clank. klinckety-clankclankclank, kink!

“Thank you, Ichabod, who art the man.”

“Thank you, Miss Plumtartt, oops, I mean, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am. I will now walk back around to the chauffeur’s side.”

clank. klinckety-clankclankclank, kink!

“Now if I can just, uh, or maybe if I, unh. Hmm, perhaps if I, unh. No, that ain’t working.”

“I sayeth, art thou experiencing difficulty, oh, Ichabod who art the man, eh hem?”

“Um, yes, Ma’am. This dang old suit of armour don’t want to bend the right way. I can’t hardly get a steel shod foot into the auto-wagon.”

“I shall hither to thy side that I may lend what assistance I may, eh hem?”

“Oh, no, don’t do that, Ma’am, then I’d have to walk you back around and assist you in sitting down again!”

“Forsooth, t’is thee that requires assistance, oh Ichabod.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Be that as it may, I’d still prefer to do it on my own.”

“As thee wishes.”

“Watch out I don’t fall on you, Miss Stephanie! Unh! Okay, I reckon I can squirm into position from here.”

“Eh hem.”

“Alright, here we go! Yeppers, so far, so good, I ain’t runned nobody over yet. The gates of Camelot are down this aways me-reckons. Uh, oh, looks like they have the streets blocked off for a parade or something. I better find another way around.”

“Do not be ridiculous, Ichabod, and don’t you dare turn this despicable creation. This is our sending-off ceremony! You do not expect to go forth on a glorious quest without a blessing, dost thou?”

“Um, no Ma’am, I reckon not. June Biscuits, look at all these people that have turned out! There are thousands of people in wild costumes all bursting into cheer at our appearance! Fanfare erupts from hundreds of trumpet horns and I can’t hardly see for all the flower petals being tossed in the air!”

“Prithee, guide thy carriage between the rows of armoured Knights on armoured chargers, that hold their swords aloft in salute and bring this carriage to a stop before the viewing dais.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Oh, look, the Royal Court has turned out, as well as all the Courtly Knights!”

“Ichabod, who art the man, I, King Arthur, command you to rise and stand before me. Oh, I see, you are having difficulty with your armour in disengaging from your wondrous, though dreadful, contraption. Oh, never mind. Sit where you are and I will come to you. Now then, I, King Arthur Pendragon, King of the Britains, by the power of God, Saint Michael and Saint George, do hereby dub thee as a temporary, honourary, Knight of the Round Table! Rise, Sir Ichabod! Oh, er, never mind. Remain sitting, Sir Ichabod!”

“Hooray!”

“Go and complete your quest, Sir Ichabod, for thou art the man!”

Oh, there,

goes mighty,

Ichabod.

With face,

akin

to a dirt clod.

Gobbled up for Ogre Chow,

we’ll say our good-byes now,

Lots of luck to thee,

you silly sod.

Oh, Ichabod!

Deadly danger awaits!

Oh, Ichabod!

Adventure is your Fate!

You are as befuddled as can be,

You’re a goner it’s plain to see,

It was nice,

to have known you Ichabod!

“Gee, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am, I reckon I’m the first feller that was ever Knighted in a drive-through.”

“Prithee, let us hope this is not a trend that grows in popularity.”

“It’s a pretty day to be out questing, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am.”

“Forsooth, a pleasing day it is indeed, Sir Ichabod. The Sun shares her golden light, while the songs of bird and insect fill the air.”

“Yes, Ma’am. How do you like riding in the Beemer?”

“Eh hem, yes, well, now that thou dost mention it, I must say that it is naughtte as pleasing in use, as it is as a curiosity for the viewer.”

“Yeah, uh, I worked some springs under the bench, but it’s still a bumpy ride, ain’t it?”

“Forsooth, truly it dost seemeth to be so, m’lord, for if we were on horseback, would the gentle beast naughtte simply step over a fallen tree when such is accosted? T’is naughtte so with this ignoble contraption! This monster must bounce us into the air with a violence that I fear my corset shall returneth to Earth without me, such is the abuse this cantankerous cart inflicts upon her weary and suffering passengers and her parts.”

“Eep! Um, I’ll be more careful, Ma’am. I reckon these little old paths don’t see a lot of traffic like this little beauty. Well, speak of the devil, there’s a crew of fellers up ahead working on the road. The dispirited, wretched men have the look of being pressed into this service.”

“Such is the way of the World, m’lord, Ichabod. T’is true everywhere, the serf/peasant is indentured to his High-Born land owner.”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am, unfortunately, I am familiar with this socio-aeconomic status. I’m a sharecropper’s boy and I know how it is to be beholden to the landowners and their overseers.”

“I better let ‘em know we’re coming.”

“Truly they know we are coming, for they certainly saw and heard us first. Half their number run in terror at the frightful apparition of our appearance, the other half seemeth to be frozen with incomprehension slathered on their gaping faces. Billowing black banks of coal smoke, thick with soot and ash, trail behind while huge poofs of steam accompany the ‘chug-chugging’ of the terrible ‘Beemer’.”

chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am, you’re right. I reckon I really just wanted an excuse to engage the steam whistle. You don’t mind, do you, Ma’am?”

~sigh~
“ Thou may proceedeth.”

“Whoo-Hoo! Thanks Miss Plumtartt, oops, I mean, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am. Hey, you all get out of the way! The brakes on this thang ain’t so good!”

~Toot!
TOOOOOOT!!!
~

chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug-chug

“Did you see them boys, Miss Stephanie? They acted like they ain’t seen nothing like us before.”

“Thou must speak for thyself, m’lord.”

“Oh, I reckon they see Knights in shining armour pretty regular, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am, but a girl as pretty as you is a rare beauty.”

“A kind sentiment, Sir Ichabod, and I thank you most kindly, but I cannaughtte help but think that a Knight in shining armour at the helm of a smoke and steam belching wagon is a sight more rare, still.”

“It sure is a pretty day, Ma’am.”

“Agreed.”

“But it sure is hot in all this armour. Do I really have to wear it?”

“Thou
must
wear the armour!
That
is the way! If thou wouldst live to fight the ogre, don’t even
consider
removing that armour, Sir Ichabod.”

~gulp~
“Yes, Ma’am!”

   .   .   .   “um...”   .   .   .

“Yes, m’lord?”

“Can I at least take off the helmet?”

“Certainly, m’lord. When we are inside of a building. However, as long as we are outside, then thee must wear thy helm.”

“Dang, the heat of this steam-carriage’s furnace ain’t helping matters none, is it?”

“No, I do naughtte imagine it to be a pleasant thing to be wrapped up in a quilted, pad jacket, that protects you from the bite of the chain mail and pinch of the plate armour while under the summer sun and sitting right next to a roaring furnace and glowing boiler, Sir Ichabod, baughtte it is the province of Knights to bear such hardships with stoic pride and manly form.”

“The furnace would be nice in the winter though, hunh, Miss Plumtartt, oops, I mean, hunh, Miss Stephanie?”

“I’m sure ‘twould be a blessing to have the furnace when the weather art cold and the Earth is blanked in snow. Sir Ichabod, thou hast addressed me in the manner of another woman’s name on more than one occasion, m’lord. Dost my appearance remind thee of some other?”

“Oh, I hope I ain’t rude Ma’am, but you sure are the spittin’ image of my gal back home.”

“I thought as much may be the case. Does this trouble thee, good Knight?”

“Oh no Ma’am, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am! Having you for a friend is a great comfort to me! I had been getting powerful lonesome, and being with you is almost like being with my Miss Plumtartt.”

“It please me that my presence brings thee succor, Sir Ichabod. Her name is not unlike my own. Perhaps she is a distant relative?”

~gulp~
“Uh, yes, Ma’am, that’s what I was thinking. Gee, it sure is a pretty day, ain’t it, the Sun bearing down, and all.”

“Art thee comfortable, m’lord?”

“What? Who? Me? Oh, sure, it’s just, you know, it being so hot in here and all, I have been pretty good about not letting the sweat that pours down my face bother me, but now I can’t hardly stand it! Rivulets of saltwater have run steadily into my eyes. The burning salt in my eyes feels as if it is having a corrosive effect. I lift the visor but I can’t let go of the steering wheel to wipe. Maybe I can hold the steel visor up with the back of my gauntlet and carefully swoop a pool of salty water away from my stinging eyes for a moment of relief-ow! I just poked myself in the eye with my steel clad thumb when we hit a bump!”

“Wouldst thou care to allow me to dab the perspiration from thy beleaguered face, m’lord, eh hem?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble, Ma’am. I’ll be all right.”

“If thou sayest so, Sir Ichabod, for thou art the man.”

“Um, yeah, right, um, it sure is a pretty day, ain’t it. Sweltering sun, birdies chirping, the insects, singing. Maybe that should be the other way around. Yep, er, shwoo! shwoo! Go away! Ah heck, Miss Stephanie, a dang ol’ fly done got in my helmet! Augh! He’s on my nose! He’s on my nose and I can’t get to him! I’m shaking my head but I can’t get him off! Ow! I done banged every side of my head that is in reach of this steel helmet and collar and I still can’t get that stupid fly off my nose! Ow! He bit me! It’s a dang ol’ bitin’ horsefly! Oh, this ain’t no good.”

“Art thou in need of assistance yet, m’lord?”

“Oh, no, I’m okay, Ma’am.”

“As you wish, m’lord.”

“Looks like a little crick up ahead, Ma’am.”

“My assumption is this is another modernization of yours and your intended word is ‘creek’?”

“Yes, Ma’am. It’s mostly shallow and wide, and we can easily ford across. There is a nice pool of water forming a pretty pond, but we can get around it.”

“I do enjoy the gurgle of a babbling creek, Sir Ichabod.”

“Um, all that gurglin’ and babblin’ of this running water is having an effect on me. I’m gonna need to stop the carriage, Ma’am.”

“Dost thee need rest, m’lord?”

“Um, in a manner of speaking, Ma’am. I need to see a man about a dog.”

“Once more I fail to understand thy speech that seemeth so strange to mine ears.”

“I need to visit the little Knight’s room.”

“Verily, thine speech is as the most complex codex.”

“I need to relieve myself. I’m just gonna go over behind these trees and bushes beside the pond.”

“Um, dang, how did these old Knights do it? With this helmet on, I can’t see nothing. Even when I hold the visor up, my field of vision is severely limited. Well, I reckon I can do it without actually being able to see what I’m doing. I hope there is some sort of gate, or port of some kind. Shoot I can’t even get my gauntlets off.”

“May I assist thee, Sir Ichabod?”

“
Eek!
Miss Stephanie! I thought you were back at the steamer!”

“Forsooth, it seemest that I might lend a helping hand to thee Ichabod who art the man.”

“Oh! No! I think that maybe this is something I should handle myself! I mean, woah!”

~splash!~

“Sir Ichabod, thou hast backed thyself up and have fallen into yon pond! Art thee well?”

~glub~
“I’m okay now, Ma’am. This water is so cool and refreshing, I’m glad I fell in. Now that I think about it, I think that other situation is resolving itself. Okay, I think I’m ready to haul myself up out of here by way of grabbing this tree branch and pulling.”

“The shadows grow long, m’lord. Perhaps we should stop here for the night.”

“I reckon you’re right, Miss Stephanie. Are you hungry?”

“One does naughtte think of food whilst questing, good Knight.”

“Oh, no, don’t you worry none, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am; I never leave home without at least a sandwich or two to tyde me over until the next meal! I packed us a nice snack! Hunh? I thought I did. I could have sworn I packed that nice picnic basket aboard before we left.”

“Oh, you did, Sir Ichabod. I removed it.”

“You unpacked our foodies? Why would you do a thing like that?”

“One does naughtte pack picnic baskets when questing, Sir Ichabod.”

“Hunh?”

“One trusts to Providence.”

“But what if she don’t show up?”

“One bears the burden of famine with due humility.”

“But I’m hungry!”

“Remember thy station and exercise your robust constitution, oh Sir Ichabod, who art the man.”

“If you say so, Ma’am.”

“Of course, m’lord. I am sure we will come upon hospitable people afore too long a time. Let us rest this evening that we may renew our quest in the morning.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good night, good Knight.”

“Nighty-night, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am. Oop. Uh, oh, it’s starting to rain! Oh my Goodness!”

“Fear naughtte, Sir Ichabod, I have found shelter beneath an overhang of rock.”

“Is there room for me?”

“Wearing your armour? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then I can take it off?”

“Remove your armour? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Okay, I reckon I’ll find me a spot somewheres else then. Oh, this ain’t no good. I don’t know a good way of getting down to the ground. This rain is making this tree trunk slippery. Maybe if I place my back against the tree, I can gently slide down to the ground-ow! My bee-hind! That landing hurt when my feet slid out from under me.”

“Ooo, I don’t know how these old Knights are so stoic and such. Dang ol’ water running through my armour everywhere. Raindrops falling on my helm are pretty rhythmic though. It’s kind of helping me to fall asleep.”

“Hunh, looks like it quit raining. I hear froggies croaking. I hear crickets chirping. I feel an insect crawling on my back. Oh gosh, laying on the ground sure does make me feel vulnerable to insect assault. I hope that feller making his way across my back didn’t tell any of his buddies about me. Uh, oh, I feel another little itty-bitty crawler. He’s on my thigh. Oh gosh, I hate this stupid armour with a purple passion! With the thick, quilt padding, the chain mail, the plate armour, the gauntlets and helmet, I ain’t got a prayer of scratching a single itch!”

“Oh, this is miserable!”

“I think this here is going to be a long, night.”

“Good morning, good Knight! Up, up, up! We mustn’t sleep the day away. Let us go a questing!”

“Hunh? Did I finally fall asleep? Oooh, I done spent a miserable night, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am. All sorts of active, crawly, bitey buggies done taken up residence in my armour with me. They wouldn’t let me sleep a wink, oooh.”

“Enough of that, m’lord. There will be no whining. Our King concludes that such trials build character in a man.”

“Oh well, I reckon y’all are right. Maybe it will make a man out of me to try to get up off the ground where all the mud that has oozed in holds me prisoner. Oh, good, the mud let me go but is sending about ten pounds of representation with me.”

“You are naughtte so shining as yesterday, m’lord.”

“I left the furnace well banked and topped up the water last night. The Beemer should be ready to hit the trail in a few minutes.”

“Prithee, step to the creek that we may relieve you of the soil that weighs so heavily upon yon steel raiments and return a touch of your Knightly shine.”

“Thanks, Miss Stephanie, Ma’am. You sure are kind.”

“My pleasure, Sir Ichabod. I enjoy shining you up.”