“Oh! Really! My word! What a revolting display! Er, that is, I should say, Oh Kit, save me!”
“Of course, Persephone darling, here I am. I have you, my dear.”
“Oh! Thank you, Kit! My hero!”
“A pleasure my dear, I assure you. Now then, if everyone could just see to bailing a little faster please, yes, that’s it, hear, hear.”
“Woah, did you guys feel that?”
“Feel what, Ickety?”
“WWWOOOOOOOOAH!”
“Mr. Temperance, we just went over a wave! Do you realize that you have allowed our craft to be swept out to sea!? This is completely unacceptable! My word, I am very disappointed in you, sir.”
“Zoinks! I mean, Dang! I mean, I’m sorry, Miss Plumtartt and you all. It looks like we are in the thrall of forces beyond our little ol’ limited comprehension and control. Hang on, these coastal breakers are now turning to mountainous waves. I ain’t sure which is more sickening, the sudden rise to the crest, the quicker fall to the trough, or the uncanny spinning of the raft. I have totally lost any sense of direction other than we are being blown out into the Gulf of Mexico. Keep on bailing, y’all, but it looks like our chances of survival are running mighty slim.”
“‘ey, Icksi me wittle muffin, is it bad when the boards are splittin’ apart, allowing water to gush in unopposed, loike?”
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am. That ain’t really too good to hear.”
“I see, so you have managed to allow us to be washed to sea in a disintegrating raft, Mr. Temperance. I can assume from this that we are all on the threshold of drowning while lost at sea then, eh, hem? I must say, this is not one of your finer moments, sir.”
“No, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt.”
“Aye, we’re in a dire position. I doon’t see how it coould be any waerse.”
“Well, there may be one way it could be worse, Officer O’Hagan.”
“Sufferin’ Shamrocks! And what coould be waerse than the hopeless predicament that we find ourselves in be?”
“Well, sir, I reckon if a big, black, scary ship were bearing down on us, sure to crush us asunder, its ancient, barnacle encrusted hull rising high above our wave’s trough, then that might be a way that our situation could be worse. Like that big black, scary ship right there, for instance.”
“Eek! A ghost ship! Leapin’ Leprechauns, tis’ a frightful vision of death’s promise that is briefly illuminated by the stark glare o’ the lightning’s tooungue. The remnants of the spectral ship’s black sails are bhaughtte ragged shrouds, yet she stills flies through the crashing waves. The frightful monster of a hulk sur-r-rely bears down on our party to drive us to a watery grave.”
“Quite right, Constable O’Hagan, though if I am not mistaken, old bean, perhaps we shall narrowly escape a hasty, crusty keel hauling to just slide alongside her hull, eh what?”
“Whew! That was close! Hey y’all, there’s lotsa ropes and netting from this neglected derelict’s rotted rigging that’s justa trailing along the sides of her. Everybody snatch a’hold of a rope and we may climb to safety yet!”
“’ey, Icksi, sticks close to your Mimi an’ ’elps me up, roight?”
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am.”
“Well! I say! I think then that I require assistance also. Kit, if you would be so kind?”
“Why of course, Persephone my sweet!”
“Aye, and I shall scramble up and onto the deck, unencumbered with relationship baggage.”
“Phew! We made it, you all! This ship sure ’nough looks like it is deserted. Everything is so old and rotten lookin’, I betcha this ol’ girl has been wanderin’ around the Gulf of Mexico for hunnerds of years.”
“Aye, Ickety, I hope this rotten hulk stays afloat through this raging staerm, Bucko.”
“Hey, y’all, I think I see the name of this big ol’ ship inscribed above the passage leading below.”
“Eep! Er, that is, eep. Of all the confounded luck. Dash it all, not the ‘Dutchie’!”
“My word, Kit, you don’t mean to say that we are aboard, ‘The Dutchman’?”
“Yes, Persephone, ‘The Flying High Dutchman’, to be exact. Hers is a classic tale of mutiny, murder, and traitorous deeds. She was a Swedish ship with an Amsterdam registry. The legend holds that on one particularly bountiful visit to the New World her substantial holds were packed to the gills with the finest treasures from her American plunder. Highly touted herbs from the jungles of the Yucatan Peninsula, Montezumauii wauii, and Prized Patagonian Pineapple buds were among the aromatic delights. Yet the sweet allure of the highest of treasures is probably what triggered the tragic events that soon transpired. The crew were seized by the siren’s call of pure, unrefined Acapulcan Gold. Realizing that they were within reach of more mind numbing euphoria than a thousand crews could consume in a thousand lifetimes, the greedy slackers mutinied. After much heavy indulgence the crew lost their way while in search of both sweet and salty snacks. Their befuddled minds became disoriented in direction, and the ship was lost at sea. The accursed, treacherous action of mutiny sealed their fate, poor devils. It is reputed that after many years of aimless wanderings they are now among the ocean’s uncounted dead. Oh, yes, of course, there is just one other thing, the phantom ghost ship is reputedly still wandering the Gulf of Mexico, in search of other lost souls at sea that they may eat the living flesh off their victims’ bones.”
“My word, what a charming story, Kit. However, I say, I think we could have done without that last addendum. Yes, I say, hear, hear.”
“Ugh! The watuh logged planking of this deck is so soft an’ squishy wiff rot, Oye’m abouts to steps roight through it!”
“Yes Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am, and this here wind is driving the rain so hard it feels as if I’m being eaten away by sand-blast. Even so, I ain’t real cheerful about goin’ below decks on this dang ol’ spooky schooner.”
“Dummy up ye unlucky charms, for beyoond the howl of the roaor-r-r-rin’ gale, I thinks I be hearing a ghastly moaning, as well.”
“Spot on, Constable. Now that you mention it, there is a definite ambient note of unintelligible discourse just at the edge of audibility. In fact I would go further in characterizing this low wail as that of many voices. The disparaging music brings to mind the approach of a vast, melancholy chorus of sad, chanting monks. Eep! Eh, hem, eep, yes, and here we have our hosts, bubbling up out of hatches and doorways not unlike a boiling batch of cabbage overflowing the roiling confines of its stove heated pot.”
UUUUUUUhhhhhhhhhUUUUUhhhhhhhhhh...
“Buh-Leck! Oye’ve seen me share o’ seasoned seamen, bot dis’ is the most scurvy infested, maggot eaten lot o’ sailuhs Oye could ever hopes to not meet. Yelk! The less skin these crawlin’ blokes ’ave, the more it makes make me own skin crawl!”
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am, there’s more bone showing than flesh on these worm-eaten gangrenous walking skeleton ghouls. It’s hard to tell where the rotten rags of clothing stop, and the strips of decaying flesh begin.”
“Eep, er, yes, eep, drat it all, this is a disappointment, for I was so looking forward to a long and prosperous life of not being eaten alive by a cannibal corpse. Yes, quite.”
“Ayeeeii! Me Irish loock ’as roon oout. Oh, I’m about to be ette by this flesh eating sailoor corpsey! Get a hair cut why don’t ye? Your long hair trails about your head likes slimy seaweed. Me copper sensibilities make me joost a tad suspicious o’ your bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes staring out from ye’re vacant, yet starving, expressions.”
“My word, I say, no, this shall not do. Eh, hem! Now hear this! Hear, hear! All of this ship’s crew is hereby commanded to STAND DOWN!!! There, that’s better. You men should know that we are here upon this charming craft, not at our own behest, but that of occult powers originating from lofty magnitude. This ship has been given a mission and this crew is expected to fulfill it. Now then, who among this stalwart company is our vessel’s captain, eh hem?”
“Ah, here we are, Persephone darling, I think that we shall find our commodore under the overly large black hat making its way forward through the threadbare throngs.”
“Yes, of course, Kit. Oh! I say, Captain? If I may have a word or two please?”
“...Oyyyye...”
“How very delightful to have the privilege of riding aboard your lovely...”
“...Oyyy’mmm...hhhaungrrhie...”
“Eh, hem. Yes, I see. Nevertheless, I am afraid that myself and my companions are not on the menu. Rather, you sir, are burdened with making good our passage to the Island of San Monique.”
“...Hunhhh!...”
“Eh, hem, yes, I see by the expression in your, and your crew’s fleshless faces that you are familiar with this locale. Let’s not dally my good former man, rather, let’s make haste, sir. Yes, I should say so, and do, most emphatically, yes.”
“...No...”
“I beg your pardon?”
“...No...one...goes...to San Monique...”
“My word, I am sure the San Moniquan Board of Tourism would be most dismayed to hear you say that. We do in fact, go, and what’s more, you, shall take us.”
“...RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...”
“You shall not take that tone of growl with me, Captain! I am Persephone Plumtartt! Perhaps in your day you were familiar with an ‘Admiral’ Plumtartt? Admiral Norbert ‘The Caribbean Tiger’ Plumtartt, I think was his colloquial moniker. I have Naval Command rooted in my ancestry. This ship is under sailing orders from a rank higher than yours or mine, Captain. I say, sir, with all due consideration, you are commanded to convey myself and my companions to the hidden, secret, Caribbean VooDoo Island of San Monique!”
“...Oyyye...Oyyye...”
“Good show! Well played, Persephone, my dear. Look at how the skeletal wretches shimmy up the masts and scale what is left of the ‘Dutchman’s’ rigging.”
“If you all will listen closely through the howling wind, y’all can hear the sad and mournful song of these sea-bourne, and cursed spirits. They sing a ghastly, ghostly ballad, of the Gratefully Deceased.”
“Poltergeisting”
“Onna tropical Sea.”
“Inna Ghost ship.”
“It’s kinda spooky dont’cha see?”
“Fresh flesh.”
“We’re as hungry as can be.”
“We just keep haunting, on-n-n,”
“ah-wah-awnne.”
…......................
“Never again,”
“Will we ever see dawn’s light.”
“We lost the privilege,”
“And now we don’t have the right.”
“No mirrors aboard,”
“They provide too big a fright.”
“We’re onna a perpetual cruise,”
“Every Caribbean night.”
…............................
“We exist in eternal miseryyyyyy.”
“Though we’re so cooked that we can’t seee”
“Of late Oy’m thinkins it occurs to meeee,”
“What a lo-o-o-o-o-o-ong,”
“Unusual voyage it’s been.”
“Aye, the lads be singing a mournful lament, do they naughtte Ickety?”
“Enh. Kinda lame to my ears.”
“My word, is it just me, or does the ship seem to be spinning?”
“Truly, your observation is correct, Persephone. The drab, gray, colouring of our surroundings has taken on the indistinct stylization of a French impressionist painting.”
“Oye thinks Oye may lose me cookies as Oye succumb to directionless dizziness. Oye can’t be tellin’s up from down nor in from out. With a body like this and inna dress as revealing as this one, this is important information to possess.”
“Are we still here, y’all? Am I speaking inside my head or yelling out loud, I really can’t tell.”
“Aye, as we all lose connection with one another and drift into a gray teleportational void, I ken only surmise that we are on our way to dark and secret VooDoo Island of San Monique.”
Chapter Fourteen:
The Isle of San Monique
P.O.V. Multiple
“By Sir Raleigh’s Coat, Persephone, you’re alive!”
“I say, yes, Kit, I do think that I am.”
“I can’t tell you how that news pleases me, my dear. If you will look to your left, you will see what I have just awoken to find, that being our little five person rescue party laid out as neat as pins on this forsaken beach. We are still in the dark of night; however, I have no idea what the actual time may be.”
“Indeed, Kit. I do believe our erstwhile companions to be regaining their consciousness as speak. Yoo, hoo-oo-oo, Officer O’Hagan, Mr. Temperance, and Miss Froust, do I see you awakening to enjoy an extension of existence in our very own physical world, eh hem?”
“Ohhh, Oye feels as if Oye’ve been run ovuh by a Fleet Street Coggle wagon, Oye does.”
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am, my head feels like it’s thicker than pitch puddin’ in January.”
“Aye, me skull feels as if it were used as the hammer of a steam pile driver.”
“Say, do you all reckon’ we’ve ended up on the mysterious Island of San Monique?”
“I do feel safe in making that assumption, Temperance, old boy. It is the sense I get from the dark, jungle foliage that towers over our heads, the reflective coloured lights of unknown predator eyes winking at us intermittently from the alien shadows, and the general sense of foreboding whose cold fingers of fear grasp my heart, freezing it with a nameless dread. However, my intuition is confirmed in this suspicion by this island’s central mountain range with its bare rock jutting out high above the tropical forest in a natural formation that so unfortunately and disquietingly resembles an upturned screaming skull. The bonfires burning in the monument’s eye sockets go a great way towards advancing the impression of active and animated life.”
“These here first few streaks of dawn’s approaching early light are helping to illuminate our progress along this rocky beach. Ain’t it something how the jungle overgrowth constantly pushes seaward so that we have to cling to a narrow shoreline? It’s like we’re just barely even on this little ol’ hidden VooDoo island.”
“My word, I think I could very well do without the ubiquitous examples of snakes in the trees over our heads. Yes, quite, I say.”
“Upon my word, Persephone, the low rumble of large feline growls that I occasionally am aware of maintain that, ‘about to be eaten’, sensation that we felt on board the ‘Flying High Dutchman’.”
“Aye, I thaughtte that being ette by skeletal seamen would have been waerse than a wild animal, baughtte somehow, now that eventuality is of equal fright value.”
“Ouoo! Spoidez! Oye hates spoidez, Oye do! Icksi, come keep them away from me!”
“Yes Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am.”
“The sky over the water remains dark, as the sky landward grows more light as the sunrise occurs on the other side of the isle. This helps me to gain me bearings of East, West, North, and South. Hello, what’s this? As I push past this lush tropical jungle palm frond, I allow a view to a cleared section of beach.”
“Lookey there, y’all! There’s a whole passel of little fishing boats!”
“Yes, Mr. Temperance, and if you will look beyond and inland, you will see a small village.”
“Just so, Persephone. Deucedly strange how the quaint little hamlet is deserted, though, I say.”
“Shh! Oye think we woke ’em up! Oye hear the stirrings of voices and movements in the cottages. Oh, Oye’m to be gobbled up boiy ’orrible cannibal natives in dis village of the Damned!”
“Aye! From all around and all at once, a hundred dark- coloured folk appear at every window and door!”
“Sacrebleu! What is this? Do we have visitors?”
“Oui, Jean-Trevour, five delightfully startled white people have stumbled into our little village!”
“Let us make them feel at home, everyone say, ‘bonjour’.”
“Bonjour!”
“My word, how very nice. What a relief it is to be met with such a charming welcome, I say.”
“Ha, ha! What is this? You are English speakers? Ho, ho, I beg your pardon! Everybody say, ‘hello’.”
“Hello!”
“Aye, please tell me, me festive friends, what is the name of this loovely village?”
“You are visiting the humble fishing village of São Vinaigrette!”
“And if ye could joost add in the name o’ this island, eh? Aye, that would be joost grand.”
“We reside upon the unsurpassed jewel of the Caribbean Sea, Monsieur, the Island of San Monique!”
“San Monique!”
“What absolutely divine news you bear my good man, for this is our destination. I do admit, Jean-Trevour, that we were unable to locate this tropical paradise in any travel brochure. Nor were we able to find anyone that possessed an iota of information about your lovely isle without some amount of difficulty. Yes, I say. Tell me kind sir, could you fill in a bit of your island’s history please? Eh, hem?”
“Oui, but of course, pretty young British girl. This Caribbean isle was originally discovered by a Portuguese armada of conquest in 1547. Several attempts at settlements ended in horror and mystery. Few of the settlers survived the ordeal. They were not prepared to contend with the magical elements of this island. In 1660, the French ship, ‘Bon Homme Atticus’, established a colony here. The ‘Horned Plateau’ that rests between the mountain ranges proved to be a fertile ground for the growing of sugar cane. Slaves from the wild and unchartered continent of Africa brought my forebears to this place. My people’s disposition towards this island’s unusual spirituality more easily adapted to the rigors of living in a place that is in constant struggle between the light and the dark. The overseers abandoned the island to us. The people of San Monique have learned to maintain a balance between these opposing forces. For almost two hundred years, ancient spells intoned by our ancestors have kept this island hidden and safe from the rest of the world. Eight years ago, our earth was visited by the ‘Revelatory Comet’, oui? Well, it seems that a member of our island’s populace was affected by the passing of the aethereal fireworks. This is a terrible and mean man! He foolishly pursues the dark and evil side of VooDoo practice instead of the good. He has raised the resting dead of this island from their rightful slumber. He entrances the living to do his bidding as well. His power is such that he was able to lift the island’s protective curtain of spells. Utilizing his VooDoo might, this terrible man reached out with his mind to trick an unwary passing ship to dock at the old, abandoned Portuguese port. The ship and crew were captured and fell under his hypnotic spell. The VooDoo mystic was able to leave the island and to spread his odious evil. San Monique remained under his control, even in his absence. We know too, that he has just recently returned.”
The Measure of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 6) Page 8
