The Measure of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 6)

by Ichabod Temperance

  I ignore the blithering idiots as I partially disentangle myself from the door’s wreckage and trailing blinds. I have no choice but to ignore the little cubicle squatter. I have as little control over my mind and speech as I do my poor body.

  I am not sure of my destination, but my stiff-limbed physique is. I move in a direct line for the property room. Potted plants, file cabinets, errand boys with arm loads of paperwork and overly stationary clerks prove to be no hindrance to my progress.

  A deputized clerk greets me at the property room desk.

  “Good morning, Mr. Henpix, it’s a fine thing to have you come visit the property room, sir. What can we do you for, today, sir?”

  My tongue is confused and does not remember how to operate.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Henpix?”

  Attempts at speech yield no result.

  “Do you need some help?”

  “Sklgrulglf!”

  “I’m sorry sir, I did not quite catch that.”

  The constriction of my throat and knot of my tongue make communication all but impossible.

  “Skulguhguhguh.” -gulp- “Sku Le’Bizzare!” -guh-ulp- “Bring me his belongings!”

  “Gee whiz, Mr. Henpix, I sure would like to, but ain’t you got to have some kinda documentation for me to allow this transfer of evidence and personal property? You know, it is a sacred, public trust that this job entails...”

  “Bring! Me! The! Belongings! Of!”

  “Sku Le‘Bizzarre!!!”

  “Hein! Hein! Yelp! Y-y-y-yes sir, M-m-m-mr. Henpix, sir. Right away!”

  With this box of his things, I go to the incarceration wing.

  My approach is received by a skeptical deputy.

  “What do we have here, Mr. Henpix?”

  “Ulguh. Open this gate.”

  “This seems mighty suspicious, sir. I don’t think I oughta do that. You need to just turn around and go back to your office. When it comes to opening that gate, I make that call. You are not getting into the pens in the condition you are in.”

  I put down the cardboard box. My body’s hand grabs the deputy by the head and rams him into the wall, rendering him unconscious.

  I grasp the five foot metal lever descending from the ceiling. Swinging the lever to its opposite position slides the heavily armored, jail-cell/block, gate/door, open. I exert a burst of strength that I do not possess on the mechanism, bending the lever and locking the gate into an open position.

  Lifting the appropriate key set, I move to my Master.

  “I am here, Master.”

  “Shut up and open this barred door, you worm.”

  “Yes, Master,” I answer, opening his barred jail cell door.

  “Give me my things! Give me my clothes! Orange is not the new black. Black is the new black! There, now get me out of here!”

  My Master is now in his own black suit, black beaver-skin top hat, and carrying a substantial, silver skull topped cane. He is clad in radiant menace from head to toe. My Master’s dark featured face is wearing a freshly painted white skull.

  “Do not allow anyone to interfere with my departure. Free me from this despicable captivity, my slave!”

  “Yes, Master.”

  The heavily armored sliding gate cannot be closed against us due to my earlier sabotage.

  Many guards rush to stop me and my Master. Desperate assaults against us are savagely subdued. These would-be barriers I effortlessly toss aside. Being my Master’s servant grants me incredible strength. I am an irresistible force, ramming my way through the building. Batons, truncheons, and Billy sticks, {or are all of those the same thing?}, are utilized against me. No matter, for they all fail to stop me in their puny and futile assaults. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I am aware that these blows will be all too well known to me tomorrow, even if I can shrug them off in this moment.

  The jailhouse guards that are able to get past me are clobbered by Sku Le’Bizzare and his lethal walking stick.

  Wave after wave of detention deputies crash against me. They now cling to every limb and pile on top in an ever increasing mound of bodies piled high upon my head in a determined effort to bring me to the ground. I drag the heap of jailers relentlessly towards the exit.

  “Slave Henpix! Stay here and cover my withdrawal. Do not allow pursuit to be made on me. You will stay here and battle these freedom stealing swine until you die, or the spell wears off. Whichever one comes first is fine. I really don’t have a preference.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  As I continue the conflict with my erstwhile employees, I can hear my Master as he pauses in the doorway.

  “Hah, hah, hah. I shall pause to savour this moment, oui? Opening this last doorway to exit this accursed prison, I am taken in a beam of unfiltered sunlight. I normally abhor the sun’s pure rays, but as it is a symbol of my new liberty I shall rejoice in their piercing beams, just this once. In fact, I can almost imagine the sinister silhouette I cast, my tall and substantial physique filling this doorframe and adorned by top hat, long coat, and carrying my trusted cane.”

  “When darkness takes this town, so shall I take my vengeance. Dolomite, the ambitious cops, and the interloping tourists, will all suffer for their transgressions against me. I will crush them all to dust. Maybe I have an even worse fate in mind for them?...”

  “Quit fightin’ us, Superintendent Henpix! Sku Le’Bizzare is gettin’ away!”

  Through the repeated cracks of billy clubs on my skull, I still hear my Master, Sku Le’Bizzare, laughing as he strolls away.

  “Hah, hah, hah. Ah, ha, ha! Aaaaaaaah!-Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!”

  Chapter One:

  A Date with Danger

  P.O.V. {Point Of View} Ichabod Temperance

  “It sure is nice to be back here in the good ol’ U. S. of A., ain’t it Miss Plumtartt?”

  “Hear, hear, I say, indeed, Mr. Temperance. Though not a citizen of your naughty band of upstart colonials, I nevertheless find enjoyment in returning to your shores.”

  “This little town is growing up fast, Ma’am. Los Angelos is quickly becoming a major city. Funny to think of this old west town as a modern metropolitan area, but such is the futuristic world of 1877 in which we live.”

  “My word, Mr. Temperance, it seems our host has seen fit to bring us along into the, eh, ‘entertainment’ district of L.A.”

  “Tee, hee! L. A.! That’s an abbreviation for ‘Los Angelos’, ain’t it, Miss Plumtartt. I wonder if it’ll catch on?”

  “Time will tell, Mr. Temperance. I now beseech our host, the handsome and gracious Right Reverend Alonzo Dolomite, what is our destination, good sir?”

  “Ah, my lovely Persephone. I know all the finest establishments in this sprawling community-ah. Eee-Yes!-Ah. Ha, ha! A wonderful time is guaranteed for us all, my British bloom.”

  “S’cuse me, Reverend Dolomite, but I thought we were supposed to be going on a double date. I feel more comfortable when Miss Plumtartt and I are properly chaperoned.”

  “Not to worry, Itchy-bod, finding feminine companionship is on the itinerary, ha, ha!”

  “Does your lady friend not know to be expecting an escort, Reverend Dolomite?”

  “Ha, ha, Persephone, any number of ladies are prepared and hoping to be selected as my escort this evening! Behold! There are lots of ladies on this street in particular that are dressed for an exciting time on the town. Let’s not buy anything at the first place we see; I want to shop around a bit.”

  “I believe I am now getting the gist of your inference, my dear and amorous reverend. Perhaps you had intended doing some mingling at this well lit and luridly styled saloon. What is it’s name? Oh yes, ‘The Prancing Palomino’. They do not actually feature dancing horses within, I am assuming, eh hem? These ‘fillies’, I take it, would actually be some high-spirited young ladies, clothed in revealing fashions. The ‘prancing’ is likely to be accented by playful fringe highlights on their dancing togges, eh, hem?”

  “
Ah yes, you are correct, Persephone, my child. I admit, I prefer to watching scantily clad cheerful girlie girls and their pleasant prancing over the equestrian variety. Praise God!”

  “Are you all gettin’ hungry? We could stop in at ‘The Tenderloin Club’ for a nice steak dinner.”

  “Eh hem, I say, Mr. Temperance, my impression postulates that establishment is not in actuality a restaurant, per se.”

  “Looky there, Reverend Dolomite. There’s a whole slew of barely dressed gals lounging insouciantly along the rail of the balcony to the ‘House of the Seven Veils’. They seem mighty friendly!”

  “Oh, they are indeed, my little Alabama friend. As a matter of fact, I am already acquainted with a few of these lingerie clad beauties.”

  “Yoo-hoo! Reverend Alonzo! Come up and see us, honey bear!”

  “Sit tight, Trixie, I may be making another ’round!”

  “I think our frisky host might wish to peruse the enthusiastic samplings of this lively saloon we approach. ‘Aphrodite’s Oasis’ appears to be an inviting lodge.”

  “Oh, indeed my friends. These fine establishments all boast an enticing gathering of lovely ladies; however, I am a man of very discriminating tastes! I strongly prefer my women to be of a more unusual dimension. Take for instance, these two ladies we see upon the corner. It is their unusual size and faces full of strong character that catch my interests. The little one in the sparkly green dress is full of energy! I like that in a woman! Look at how she tires of standing in one place, and in an effort to drum up business, is putting on a most peculiar dancing exhibition. I do not think I have ever seen a woman get into a handstand position, and then bounce on her hands while concurrently snapping her legs into one fantastic formation after another high in the air and then spin on her head before, but that’s why I like coming to this part of town. Her friend though, is the one I want! Just look at that magnificent specimen of womanhood! She must stand six and a half feet tall without heels, but with them, she totters at nearly seven feet in the air! I likes that in a woman! Eee-Yes!-Ah! Her clingy silk dress shows off her charms, even if they are a little lop-sided, in a most pleasing fashion. Praise God!”

  “These ladies are undeniably a lurid and garish pair, I must say. I believe they learned their make-up skills and technique while working as brickmasons, for the application appears to have been performed with a goodly sized trowel.”

  “They both look like they are making eyes at us, y’all. Let’s go on over and say hello.”

  “A capital plan, Mr. Temperance. If these charming beauties have caught your fancy, Reverend, then by all means, let us go and meet these darling débutantes.”

  “Ha, ha! Eee-Yes!-Ah! Good evening my lovelies, I was wondering if one, the other, or both of you might be available for happy companionship tonight? Actually, I should really be addressing this sky-scraping queen, but I must admit, there is an irresistible allure about this little gal, as well.”

  The sparkly green dressed dancing girl adjusts her orientation from a handstand to a footstand and replies in a dubious falsetto:

  “OOOOOOOOOOh! My o’ my, what a big handsome may-yan you are! Don’t you think so Lucinda?”

  Somehow, Lucinda is able to achieve an even higher and more disquieting octave in her fearfully feminine falsetto rejoinder:

  “OOOOOOOOOh! You are sooooOOOooo right, Joshline, oops, er, I mean, Joesephine, oops, er, I mean, Jackeline, oops, er, I mean, Jacqueline.”

  “Ha, ha! Eee-Yes!-Ah! It’s my lucky night! Come here you big hunk o’ woman you and share some of that sugar, baby!”

  “Freeze, punk!” er, that is, I mean, freeze, punk! I am hereby placing you under arrest for the attempted exchange of financial gains for sweet tenders! Shame on you, affection seeking shopper citizen!”

  “Hey, I think I recognize that voice, Miss Plumtartt.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Temperance. I too find that I am able to place a moniker upon these two femmes fatales. Am I correct in assuming that somewhere under those ridiculous wigs, pounds of make-up, shamefully revealing dresses and fishnet hosiery, that our two favourite men of the city, Constables Joshua O’Hagan and Keefer Smith are lurking? Eh, hem?”

  “Aye, t’is us,” admits the compactly built little Irishman, O’Hagan, as he straightens his wig.

  “Howdy, y’all. I knew you boys were not regular beat policemen and did not wear a standard uniform. You men are what’s known as ‘plain-clothes’ detectives, but come on, aren’t you taking this variance in police attire a little too far?”

  The big woman, er, I mean, the big man in the woman’s dress gives his partner a stern look before answering.

  “After O’Hagan was caught in a compromising position with the Chief of Police’s wife, our station at the station was drastically reduced.”

  “Oh, doon’t always be looking at the stinky side o’ things, Keefer m’lad. I kind o’ likes working the vice patrol.”

  “I still think you ladies are lookin’ mighty fine! Eee-Yes!-Ah!”

  “Oh, bless ye, laddie. Ye be the right Reverend Alonzo Dolomite, if me memory serves me right. Ye ’ave a good eye for the ladies, m’lad.”

  “Aye! Praise God! Eee-Yes!-Ah!”

  “It probably wouldn’t have been so bad, O’Hagan,” the looming dragtective Smith continues, “but you had to go and make time with his secretary, too.”

  “She be giving me the ‘come hither’ peepers, Keefer-boy. What could I do?”

  “I’ll give you that, O’Hagan. Had that slinky secretarial sexbomb looked twice at me I would have tossed the Chief out of the nearest window, but why in the wide blue sea are you now running around with his daughter? That she-cat is jailbait!”

  “Shae tuorned eaighteen laust week!”

  “Come on, now, fellas, let’s not quibble ’bout who solicited whom for whatever purpose. Instead, let’s take in this charming Southern California night. This sure is a festive entertainment district you all got here, Officers. There are even more steam and spring-driven clockwork carriages now than the last time we were here. There’s almost as many mechanical coaches as there are horses. I wonder if horses will be considered obsolete one day, and it will be a rare thing to see one in use as common transportation on the streets of Los Angelos?”

  “That’s just being silly, Ichabod. I love my steamer, but the horse has been domesticated to man’s use for thousands of years. It will take thousands more to change that.”

  “My word, I beg to differ, as I’m not so sure, my effeminate he-man, Constable Smith. Change is occurring very quickly all around us, sir.”

  “Eee-Yes!-Ah! You are so correct, Persephone my dear! This town used to be quiet, but now it is a symphony of sinful exuberance! Eee-Yes!-Ah! Hallelujah!”

  “Uh, hunh, yessir, you’re right about that, Reverend Dolomite. Beyond the busy traffic in the streets, the pulsation of modern electric appliances humming, the calling of balcony ladies and the music of their emporiums, there is still a mechanical sound I cannot quite identify.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Temperance, I admit, there is a sound just in hearing that is incongruous with the others. There is a demolitionary quality involved. Yes. Quite. Rather.”

  “Aye, and the thing be cloutchings me heart, filling it with a nameless sense o’ dread, it be.”

  “Say, y’all, take a look on up Wilshire Boulevard. I betcha where we see them carts getting thrown up in the air, their contents be’in strewn about wily-nilly, and hear horses neighing in fright, is probably gonna be the source of all the commotion.”

  “Hear, hear, I concur with your assessment, Mr. Temperance. The vehicle is low to the ground and has an unfortunate tendency toward casting obstacles from its approaching path. I say, my word!”

  “Eek! There it is, Miss Plumtartt! It’s a giant clockwork cockroach!”

  “Ayiiieeeiii! Faith an’ Begorrah, it’s a mechanical monstaer!”

  “Davy Crockett’s coonskin cap! Watch out, citizens, it’s a creepy-crawly nightmare!” />
  “Ah-No!-Ah! It’s a dark angel of the apocalypse, heralding the end of times-ah! Eight multi-jointed legs are what the monster dances upon. These javelin footed ballet tippy toe skewers puncture and toss all intervening traffic. Two wildly animated crab claw pincers at the front lift and throw our poor populace with impunity! Surely this is a spawn of Satan!”

  “I say, I’m afraid not. I can see the operator of the horrific mechanical. Oh no! What a frightful visage! That skull painted face! We know that man! It’s, it’s it’s...”

  “It is I, Sku Le’Bizzarre! Hah, hah, hah.”

  “You sure are mighty impressive, sir, standin’ in that there hole fashioned into the body of your steam creature, Mr. Sku Le’Bizzare. Where’d you get that big ol’ menacing mechanical behemoth? I ain’t seen them suckers advertised no place, and that is the sort of thing I keep my eyes peeled for in the appropriate periodicals.”

  “Hah, hah, hah. My mindless slaves that I turned to assist me in my evil deeds have had my San Moniquan Crab prepared for the time in which I would be free of your horrible captivity. This beast shall be the instrument of my vengeance! Oui! I shall now have my revenge upon you all for the indignities you have forced me to endure! Hah, hah, hah!”

  “And when ye speak o’ ‘revenge’, just what did ye have in mind, me blackie bucko?”

  “The death of you all, little woman mon! Hah, hah, hah!”

  “My word, yes, I say. May I suggest to my companions that we all draw our armaments and open fire upon this dreadful fellow before he tears our limbs from their torsos, eh, hem? Perhaps we can simultaneously shoot from a fleeing position as the Island Ire is focused on our party, eh, what?”

  “You got the right idea, Persephone! Hallelujah! A severe infestation of crabs is no laughing matter! Praise God!”

  “Dang! You all are right Miss Plumtartt and Reverend Dolomite! Let’s hotfoot it up Wilshire Boulevard y’all. I can’t really shoot well behind me as I run, but I guess it’ll have to do.”

  “My word, I was aware that Mr. Temperance was armed, for he wears his Colt .45 openly in a pistol belt holster. I myself have taken to keeping a Webley Ladies’ Pocket Poodle Pistol upon my person for primary protection. I am happy, if just a little astonished, to see Reverend Dolomite produce a pump action shotgun, sans shoulder stock, from beneath his frock. Our gentle friar is able to fire the weapon by dint of pistola and slide grips alone, while aiming from pelvis level, however, I confess astonishment at the sight of two large pistols that rival Mr. Temperance’s revolver in size, weight, and dimension, our constable allies have procured from seemingly out of thin air. Just where were you keeping those firearms concealed, my female attired gentlemen friends?”