Christmas Jack-o'-Lantern

by Subhajit Waugh

  She ignored the gazing eyes by turning away her face, preferring to study the garden instead, through the iron bars of the classroom window.

  “I had done my specialization in ‘oriental spying techniques’….” she said, “I have a long, practical experience in spying myself”.

  Jack gazed at her; trying to figure out how long experience she might possibly have considering her age. Jack thought she looked young and charming in her Sari and her long, silky black hairs. And her black eyes were hypnotizing.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, before we begin, can anyone tell me about the history of spying?”

  Several hands shot up instantly, which she ignored completely.

  “Spying is not a glamorous ‘cloak and dagger job’ as you might expect” she said, “It requires a lot of training, intelligence and patience. It is a profession as old as human civilization itself, and often considered as the second oldest profession. She oldest one is of course politics”.

  “But madam” someone objected “I heard that the oldest profession-“

  “Shut up” she hissed angrily “or I’ll break this birch rod on your back”.

  She observed the class slowly and silently, spotting Jack. “If I am not mistaken, you are ‘Jack-o-Halloween’, right?”

  “Yes madam”.

  “It is indeed a great honor for me to have you as my student” she announced jubilantly. Coming down from the podium, she stood beside Jack’s desk.

  “Are you planning to attend the entire course?” she asked while fondling Jack’s hair to feel the soft-silky texture.

  “Yes madam. And lots more too” Jack answered, blushing.

  “You will attend other courses too? Which ones?” she asked in a tone of amazement, while caressing Jack’s broad shoulders and looking impressed.

  “Many courses” Jack said “Management courses, martial arts, courses in diplomacy, sword fighting, and horse riding…I mean all the courses offered by Krampus”.

  “Wow! That’s great”. She gazed at Jack with her eyes wide open. She composed herself, shut her open mouth and went back to the lectern. “Now, silence pleaseee…” she hissed.

  Even after she stopped speaking, the hissing sound seemed to persist from her over-sized ‘lady’s handbag’. Some of the students eyed it apprehensively.

  She got up, walked to the door, closed it and locked the doorknob. She tied the key ring to her hair and then tied her hair in a big knot.

  “Let me demonstrate one of the ancient oriental espionage techniques” she looked at Jack with an interest in her eyes. Then she pulled out a white rabbit and a hissing bamboo-cane basket from her handbag.

  Jack was having a strange sensation that she was trying to impress him.

  She opened the lid of her basket. Instantly a coiled cobra raised its hood and started swaying, hissing violently. She held the rabbit. The cobra struck it with lightning speed.

  She held the rabbit high for all to see. The rabbit trembled and convulsed, screeching and squeaking like a mouse. Fumes appeared in its mouth, and its color turned pale bluish. Within a few moments, the rabbit became motionless.

  She pulled out the cobra from the basket with her bare hand and let it down on the floor. It slithered slowly towards the horror struck students. Panic spread instantly; the students screamed and stood up on their desks, trembling with fear.

  She laughed loudly, picked up the snake, managed to place it on her palm and raised her palms at her face level. The snake swayed its hood, selecting a spot to strike. She held out her tongue and started moving her tongue to and fro. The cobra struck on her tongue.

  “She has been bitten by a deadly poisonous snake. Call the doctor!” a lady student screamed at the top of her voice.

  “Ah, calm down” she rebuked dryly “and please get down and occupy your seats”.

  She placed the cobra inside the basket and closed the lid.

  She took out the register and started calling roll numbers. Jack nervously watched that all the horror struck eyes were fixed on her. Jack sweated in horror himself, expecting her to collapse at any moment.

  When the attendance was over, she closed her register triumphantly and announced, “All fifty three students are present. Everyone seems to be interested in my class” she spoke in a hissing tone.

  “This is one of the oriental espionage techniques” she explained “Creating ‘poison girls’ by administering snake venom, in increasing dose over several years, to develop resistance towards venom” she announced. “Now, can anyone tell me why I didn’t collapse?”

  She ignored all raised hands and announced “Because, being brought up as a ‘poison girl’ since my childhood, it’s not snake’s venom, but the warm embrace of my man which makes me collapse”.

  “But madam, what purpose will this technique serve in spying?”

  “Good question. Well, not particularly useful for spying, but great for assassination purpose-an essential part of espionage. Poison girls can easily reach Kings and Generals, where armed assassins can’t reach. Even a deep kiss can be fatal”.

  She turned her face from the questioning lady and faced the other half of the class at the assembled young and adolescent men. She asked in a taunting voice “Would anyone like to kiss my lips?”

  * * *

  The week proved really hectic for Jack. So many courses have been crammed in such a short period of six months! Jack thought. He was having a difficult time remembering the names of so many new faces. The number of students per class varied from a dozen to around hundred depending on the subject.

  Jack was having a really tight schedule rushing from one campus to another, spread over such a vast geographical area of the Black forest. “I must learn as much as possible, for using them later” Jack swore umpteenth time, as he rushed to attend the next lecture.

  By now, Jack’s initial opinion of ‘a barbarian Krampus in goatskin’ had changed, and he was truly impressed by spymaster Krampus’s massive network of secret training schools. His own heart forced him to believe about Krampus’s complex spy networks in the past, all over Eastern Europe, his secret ‘clubhouses’ and ‘safe houses’ and other stuffs he heard from his newly formed friends. Krampus is definitely not the wild barbarian; I thought previously, Jack concluded.

  Jack’s appetite for learning increased with the progress of every subject. There is so much to learn Jack thought. On one particular class in ‘ancient spying techniques’, a Turkish teacher with a long pointed beard and wearing a turban, passed a small bowl of rice and a large tray to one of the student.

  Then he said, “Pour the rice from the bowl into the tray, and examine carefully. Very minutely! Tell me if you notice something really unusual”.

  The student examined for several minutes, almost straining his eyes and said “Sir, the sizes of the grains somewhat varies. And some of the grains are broken. There are a few bran and grains of sand”.

  “Pass the tray to the next student please” the teacher said with a tone of disappointment.

  The next student confirmed the findings after a long time. So did the next student in the row.

  “Pass it on,” the teacher said, but now with a voice of triumph.

  “Now take this magnifying glass and observe carefully,” the teacher said.

  Soon enough the student announced excitedly “Sir I have spotted one very unusual grain of rice. It is much different from the rest, as if some inscription appears on it”

  The Turk teacher smiled and took out a much larger magnifying glass from his long Turkish robe. Handing it over to the student, he said, “This is much powerful magnifier. Now study it”.

  The student took a few minutes to break the silence of the class “Oh my God! An entire poem has been inscribed on it!”

  The teacher looked at everybody and saw the disbelief on his or her faces. “Pass the grain and the magnifier to the next student”.

  After it had passed hands through the whole class, the teacher said, “Rice Wri
ting is the art of writing on single grain of rice. It might have originated in Anatolia in ancient Turkey. There are artisans who are skilled in drawing entire painting on this small grain. And it is very handy to transmit secret military messages, even of the size of a large rhyme. Tomorrow I shall tell you more about some other extraordinary spying techniques of Ottoman Turks”.

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  Chapter 12

  Punishment

  Jack was listening to the lecture on ‘Diplomacy in Politics’ with keen interest, when a class attendant arrived and interrupted the class. He whispered something in the teacher’s ears.

  “Jack!” The teacher called out aloud “come here”.

  “Yes Sir?”

  “Krampus has wished to meet you immediately. Go with this man”.

  Ten minutes later, Jack entered Krampus’s office.

  “Jack, how are your lessons progressing?”

  “Fine, Sir!”

  “Just fine?” Krampus glanced hard “That’s absolutely disappointing. Disgusting! Can’t it be finer?” Krampus hardened his tone and grumbled “think not of taking a rest till fine becomes finest; just as Lord Devil demands of you from me”.

  Jack stood bewildered, wondering what was happening. If Krampus had interrupted Jack's lessons, just to reprimand him to be more attentive, then Jack could not make any sense out of it. Jack remained wary of something else popping out of the bag.

  “I hope, at least you enjoy your studies” Krampus scolded Jack, just like a schoolmaster scolds a spoilt child.

  “Yes Sir. It’s a bit hectic though”.

  “Nonsense!” Krampus punched hard on the table “if I had my way, I’d have allowed only one day off each month. Trainees become lazy unless they are whipped left and right mercilessly”.

  Krampus signaled the attendant to leave. Jack watched the class attendant leaving with apprehension.

  “Now listen to me, Jack. Lord Devil has sent this edict for your signature” he held up a thick bundle of papers “Sign it quickly, and return to your class. I don’t want to interrupt your lessons”.

  Jack held the bundle and glanced at it. The topmost paper seemed to be premium quality bond paper bearing the inscriptions:

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  By this edict, it is hereby decreed that Count Bramcula, of the clan of Eastern Gothic Vampires, and present chief, shall abdicate all claims to the throne of Balkan Vampires. He shall relinquish all special privileges and discretionary powers to Prince Vlad Stoker, the nominated candidate of Lord Devil.

  Further, in view of the loss of valuable blood in fighting each other, both parties are hereby instructed to stop the bloodshed (bloodsucking exempted) with immediate effect. They must abide by the (attached) guidelines, till further orders are issued.

  This decree has been issued by Jack-o’-Halloween and has the approval and seal of Lord Devil.

  Signed (Jack-o-Halloween):

  Countersigned (Lord Devil):

  (Great Seal of Pandemonium)

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Jack held the bunch of papers, standing motionless and dumbstruck for some time. When he had finally composed himself, he stammered “I…I don’t get this…I didn’t issue any decree”.

  “Of course you didn’t” Krampus agreed smilingly, displaying his terribly sharp, and unnaturally long teeth “It is Lord Devil who wants to issue this decree”.

  “No, I don’t get this…has a rivalry started between Gothic and Romanian Vampires?”

  “It’s not your task to dig out such information!” Krampus said, “Just sign it and go attend your classes”

  “But Sir, who am I to issue a decree like this. I am a mere student”.

  “Don’t try to be over-smart. You know very well who you are!” Krampus replied, shaking his long, curved horns menacingly, displaying his animalistic temper “all Halloween creatures regard you as their spiritual leader”.

  “This is a Lord Devil’s plan, isn’t it?” Jack said “Interfering in vampire politi-”

  “Mind your own business Jack!” Krampus snapped furiously. His cat-like pupils narrowed further, looking like two black slits on his yellow eyes.

  “Of course it is my business to know, if I am to put my signature”.

  “Now look here Jack! Lord Devil is a man of principles. Otherwise, I don’t see any reason why he simply couldn’t have forged your signature without taking the trouble of getting your signature. You must respect his honesty, and reciprocate accordingly. Just sign it, and the matter is over”.

  “At least, allow me to read the attached guidelines, Sir”.

  “Read those entire bunch of documents?! Do you think, my valuable time is not worth a penny, so you can waste it?”

  “Please Sir, just give me one night. I’ll return all these documents tomorrow morning”.

  “Will you sign it blindly or not? I have lost my patience-I am warning you Jack!” Krampus was shivering with rage and drops of blood appeared on the deep scar mark on his forehead.

  “But Sir, how can I put my signature blindly? I had a really bad experience in the past-”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know about your bad past experience…………Guards!” Krampus shouted at the top of his voice “…all I know is that you are going to have a bad experience now!”

  Three guards appeared instantly, and pounced upon Jack.

  “Throw him in Ludwivor prison!” Krampus roared.

  “Excuse me Sir” one of the guards objected, “Ludwivor is already crammed and overcrowded. An epidemic has broken out in those unhygienic cells. We are shifting many of the lucky surviving captives to ‘sector 61’ camp”.

  “Okay then! Off he goes to ‘sector 61, hard labor unit’…” Krampus said “and in case, he changes his mind within just three days, then send me a note. Or else…” Krampus paused between every word to emphasize his intention “Let him rot there indefinitely”.

  They dragged Jack, and threw him like a sack of potatoes inside a caged horse carriage, and slammed the iron door. The three gigantic black horses, with glowing red eyes and breathing smoke and fire, galloped away the carriage out of view, raising a storm of dust.

  * * *

  In sector 61, hard labor camp, Jack was appalled to see thousands of child labors being flogged and forced to do highly laborious jobs. They were kicked and whipped as mercilessly as the adult prisoners. A barbed fence separated the children from adults. Jack, though apparently an adolescent in his late teens, was placed with the children.

  “They are those unlucky children whom Krampus and his men have kidnapped from their homes” Jack’s prison mate whispered to him “agents of Krampus roam around the world, especially around Christmas, in search of ‘naughty children’, as they like to call them. Here, they don’t allow adults and children to mix. Even parents are not allowed”.

  Jack spent the day serving his allotted laborious jobs and making observations and cautious enquiries.

  As dusk was approaching, a horse drawn carriage arrived and carried away seven children and three men.

  “Where are they being taken?” Jack questioned his prison mate.

  “No idea” Jack’s prison mate replied in a shivering voice “Every three or four days, they pick up prisoners. Nobody ever hears anything about them later”.

  Jack looked at his prison mate’s face and saw the horror in his eyes. “Are you all right Davy?”

  “I suppose, I am fine”.

  “What’s the matter?” Jack asked.

  Davy lowered his voice “There are rumors that these prison camps are run by Lord Devil, and he ships those unfortunate prisoners to ogres of Iceland”.

  “To the ogres of Iceland?” Jack repeated in disbelief “I have heard tales of their cannibal leader ‘Gryla’, who ate her own former husbands”.

  They were both startled by the noise of a whistle.

  Jack watched the childr
en in tattered rags lining up in a long queue for their meager ration of thin gruel. A small child, who appeared to be starving to death, broke from the queue and ran towards the serve table.

  One of the prison guards grabbed the child by the shoulder and dragged him aside. The guard took off the child’s torn and stitch-marked shirt and held him securely, while another guard flogged the child mercilessly.

  Jack turned away his face and hid his tears. He couldn’t bear to look any longer. But the shrill, painful cries of the child still pierced through Jack's ears and shred his heart to pieces. He heard the guard shouting “Don’t’ give that little brat anything to eat today. They must be taught discipline”

  I can’t bear to stay anymore Jack thought I wish I could help them escape. But now, I must send a note to Krampus to get out of this hell.

  Jack approached a guard and said “I want to send a note to Krampus. Urgently”.

  The guard broke into laughter.

  “What happened?” a second guard asked the first one.

  “He wants to send a note to Krampus”.

  Both started laughing loudly.

  “What’s the matter?” Jack asked, “What’s funny about it?”

  They started collapsing from peals of laughter, holding each other for support.

  When the laughter finally subsided, the guard said to Jack “You have not heard I suppose?”

  “Heard what?”

  “Our prison superintendent got so flooded with regular appeals of innocence from stupidly hopeful prisoners, that he had issued an order which strictly forbids the forwarding of silly notes.

  “But mine is a genuine case, and very urgent” Jack said.

  “Shut up!” The guard raised his hands “or I'll deform your face with a hard slap”.

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  Chapter 13

  Life is a rough journey

  True to her threat to her husband, Mrs. Santa indeed went missing.

  Mr. Santa Claus could have put a ‘missing’ poster with his wife’s face in every home, advertised on the front page of dozens of newspapers, informed the electronic media for circulating the news far and wide…but he was helpless.

  The reason was simple. A series of love letters from Mr. Santa’s rival ‘Ded Moroz’ was found from Mrs. Santa’s personal drawer during preliminary investigation. Some of them even had Moroz’s signature and the postscript ‘From Russia with Love’. Therefore, Mr. Santa’s close ones only gossiped and grumbled in a helpless tone.