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

by Ichabod Temperance

  “Yessir, and for the most part, they appear to be predominantly of the female variety girlie ghosts!”

  “Aye!”

  “Yes, quite so. Their ephemeral female bodies go to great lengths in filling out their diaphanous attire. Yes, rather, I say.”

  “Tee, HEE! Dang, y’alls is a bunch of frisky phantoms, and that’s a fact! You all’s amorous though amorphous affections are sure ’nough freely and generously shared, Ma’am.”

  “Oh, aye! Why, I think I could come to like visiting this nebulous, yet fr-r-riendly town.”

  “ooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooFRIENDLY!ooOOOOOOOOO”

  “My word, let’s see. Er, excuse me, young lady. Yes, you are a rather overtly attractive morsel, though transparent and gray, may I ask, did this community not perish under some sort of ‘Biblical’-like curse due to an overindulgence in things of a promiscuously sexual nature? Perhaps a touch of decadence and debauchery running amok, eh?”

  “OOOOOOOOOyyyeeesssOOOOOOOOOO”

  “I see, and by the behaviours of yourself and your lovely, affectionate, companions, might I be correct in surmising that you wish to drain us of our essence of life and thus gain a moment of respite from your eternal torments?”

  “OOOOOOOOOyyyeeesssOOOOOOOOOO”

  “Does that mean we moost pass up this go-olden opportunity to partake in passionate distractions with these willing and wanton will o’ wisps?”

  “We might oughtta let this here chance at some indulgent good time lovin’ pass us by, Officer O’Hagan.”

  “ooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooodon’t be shyooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooo”

  “ooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooobe with usooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooo”

  “ooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooocome on, loverooOOOOOOOOOOOOOooo”

  “Tee, hee! No Ma’am! You ladies need to behave yourselves! Tee, hee! Keep your hands to yourself, Ma’am! Tee, hee!”

  “No, no, lassies, naughtte toonight. Though the transparent threesome o’ ye eager beauties, be mighty comely, I wish too remain among the living! I must deny ye’re undeniable charms!”

  “I say! That really was quite forward of you, Miss. Eh, hem, er, my word, I say, you are a ‘miss’ are you not?”

  “ooOOOOOOwhat difference does it make?ooOOOOOOooo”

  “Eek! Run faster men! Our peril is far greater than I had previously envisioned! Masculina over here has the red hot trots for me! Hurry up this wide stair avenue leading to what appears to be the apex of this vertically inclined city.”

  “This whole city is nothing but stairs! With thousands of impassioned and howling banshees harassing us at our heels, we are getting funneled into ever higher and steeper localities. Finally, we are being squeezed out the top of this last stairway tube inta this here open air narrow corridor at the peak of the city. Yikes, this stone walkway sure does end quickly with a sudden drop into a bottomless chasm.”

  “Aye, our path comes to an’ end, baughtte if ye look across, ye can makes out the unmistakable telltale signs of an overgrown possible path. This, we should assume, is a foot trail over mountainous Tormentia.”

  “I say, there is nothing on the other side from which one may gain purchase by means of a hopeful rope lasso, even if we had such a device. The only way to cross this divide is to build a bridge, I’m afraid. Rotten luck. Our small legion of dubious admirers have slowed their pursuit, but are continuing their ephemeral, female, feline prowl towards us. This position quickly grows untenable.”

  “Hey! Look you guys, it’s Lady Paramarfeigh, I mean, Madame Paramarfiegh, stepping from a convenient alcove.”

  “I am not either of those ladies. I am High Priestess Paramarfough. What business do you have in this forbidden place?”

  “We wanna cross this chasm so we can climb this mountain and rescue our friends, Ma’am!”

  “You speak the truth, Dingle-Berry Hat Boy, with the disturbing ribboned and bowed shoulder epaulets. I am surprised you made it through the city, dressed as you are.”

  “Me too, Ma’am.”

  “I shall grant you a chance at passing this impassable pass. First, you, bald man with the serious expression and wearing the soiled green suit. You must answer this conundrum. The captain of the guard’s brother died, but the dead man had no brother. How can this be?”

  “Is this a homicide or did the deceased pass from natural causes?”

  “That is of no consequence!”

  “Well, as a naturally suspicious copper, I likes to know these things. I would suggest that, if indeed it was a maerder, it would be of great consequence to the departed party. For now I will accept ye’re assurance that it does not matter. Hmm, let me see, me crowish crone. The captain’s brother had no brother? … Hah! Of course! The Captain of the Guard is a woman!”

  “Very good, Polis Man, now you, tall, dark, and handsome, even if wearing a bedraggled white suit, for it would seem to regain its linen splendor, in spite of rough and difficult times, simply because it hangs on your own splendid physique, you will identify for me that whom is always old, but sometimes new, never sad, though sometimes blue. He is never empty, yet sometimes full, he never pushes, but will always pull.”

  “I say, High Priestess Paramarfough, that is a deucedly clever one. Hmm, let me see. Ah, of course these descriptions do have a ring of familiarity though, I must say. You say the fellow is always old, yet is sometimes new. He is said to be never sad, but sometimes blue. These are contradictory to my ears! Never empty but sometimes full, never pushes, but always pulls, you say? Hmm. Great Scott! Of course! Pulling refers to the tidal cycle, and ‘new’, ‘blue’, ‘full’ all describe stages of the lunar cycle. Your answer, my dear woman, is the Moon.”

  “Well done, gambler man. I now turn my attention back to this little Dingle-Berry Hat Boy. You though, do not get to answer a riddle. In you, I sense an inability to lie. You will tell me true. I must know if you are of good magics or bad. Speak to me the name of your Ge’de Master! Who has sent you! From where do you come!”

  “Gee, whiz Ma’am, I don’t know. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no Ge’de’ Master or nothin’. I’m justa fella from Alabama.”

  “Aieee! Ali Bauhm’a! The greatest, yet most secret of our VooDoo lords! Truly, you men are fated as the beings to defy the ‘Great Awakening’. The time of destiny is upon us!

  “The signs are confirmed by flocks of birds.”

  “I think my tummy may return my curds,”

  “I never thought that I would ever say these words,”

  “My three white Jack-Ass,”

  “YOU! MAY! PASS!!!”

  r-r-r-u-U-U-m-m-m-b-b-b-b-l-l-l-le...

  “Crimson and clover! What’s happening? This massive stone hallway’s floor is pushing out over the divide! A bridge is being extended! We’ve been granted access by the gate keeper! Quick, laddies, the bout is afeet!”

  Chapter Twenty Two:

  Caught!

  “Mon Dieu, Sacre Bleu and Lafayette too! To what do my disbelieving eyes are the appearings? Two white women? You have no business here! Seize them!”

  “My word, no, that really is not necessary. We have absolutely no desire to interfere with your delightful manufacturing processes. The quaint, old-fashioned methods of operations you employ are a gentle reminder of the traditions you instill in your distillations, kind sir.”

  “You lie, woman! Bobby Zombie, dispatch a runner to the main house to inform Sku Le’Bizarre that two white women are at the factory!”

  “... yes … Overseer ...”

  “’ey! You’de bettuh think twice about that, Sunny Jim. We are officials from the newly formed San Moniquan Department of Health and Safety, we is. You’re about to be put on report, me angry friend. Woi, we saw zombie slaves operating machetes wiffout proper eye protection! There’s not a single ’airnet in the ’ouse! The zombie cafeteria is an abattoir! We intend to shut down this factory until it is brought up to code. We might even report you to O.S.H.A., ‘Occultist’s Safety and Health Association.”

  “No! Lies, lies, li
es! Even if we did have health inspectors on San Monique, they would not look like you two! Not in my wildest dreams would they ever look like you two!”

  “Yes, quite, well, would you believe that we are with the tour and got separated from our group? Eh, hem?”

  “No!”

  “Wot about iffs we wuz ’elpless damsels, shipwecked upon your wovewy oisle?”

  “No!”

  “Perhaps albinos, eh hem? Our natural native pigments faded away to invisibility, eh, hem?”

  “No!”

  “Wotch out, me evil overseer, for we are severely stricken wiff leprosy! Our pasty lack of pigmentation will spread like coodies in an elementary school! Beware me touch! Oye could spread my whiteness loikes some pale plague through this scab company!”

  “No! You lie! You are invaders to our island and a threat to the Master, Sku Le’Bizarre! All you zombies over there, come here! Capture these women!”

  “Let us make ourselves scarce to these hounding hosts, shall we, Miss Froust?”

  “Roight, your ’oighness, first we’ll dash back behind all these stacks of barrels and sacks that provide a few seconds of cover.”

  “Now from here, we shall prance our way back to the distillation room. Perhaps the many scents of fuel and production shall throw our pursuers off of our trail.”

  “That was a good idea, but ’as only put ’em off o’ us momentarily.”

  “All my sugar cane choppers, stop your labours! Bring your machetes and help find the womens!”

  “Oh, drat! It seems that our enemy has activated his machete wielding reserves and our chance of concealment combined with escape is swiftly eluding us. That is frightfully disappointing, I must say.”

  “They’ve got us surrounded, Prunetartt! They’ll discover us at any moment!”

  “I am fully aware of our predicament, Miss Froust. Let me think. Hmm, what would Mr. Temperance do in this situation, I wonder?”

  “Mr. Temperance? You means, me wittle Icksy-pooh? Wot, he ain’t really that bright, Missy. Wot makes you think that wittle Koala would be of any ’elp?”

  “I have known that young man for some time, Miss Froust. He has shown an uncanny ability to find his way through one impossible situation after another, much as we now find ourselves. He would size up his surroundings and make use of whatever materials may be at hand and turn them to his own desire. Here behind the boiling vats, the ground is littered with the detritus of copper manipulation for maintaining the furnaced distillation boilers. We are backed up against the collection vats of the sugar cane crusher and juice squeezer. Hmm. Oh. Oh, my. Yes. Oh, drat it all. He would do such a thing, wouldn’t he?”

  “Wot’s dat, princess?”

  “He would suggest that we do this.”

  Chapter Twenty Three:

  Commando Farce

  P.O.V. Mr. Howard C. Cross

  “...and see to it that these rocks are cleared from the roadway! I felt that bump back there. I could very well have a traumatic neck condition now because of your less than diligent slavery! I want these roadways smooth, I tell you! The four large, wicker basket woven balls you wretched, animated, ingrates walk in convey every bump and hole in this dirt road.”

  “Ugh. You men reek! Must I endure your unending stench as well as the discomfort of this outlandish transportation device? Let’s see, there are four large, round baskets, each containing four, former men. These spherical treadmills are linked together on this zombie powered contraption to propel the craft. That adds up to sixteen, but I would swear that you have the stench of a hundred fetid corpses! Add in our effulgent, though living driver, Overseer Scar’geiverre to the mix and that adds up to an bearable stinkpocalypse!”

  “Apparently all that it takes to motivate you monsters is to dangle a frightened chicken before this roly-poly chariot.”

  -sigh-

  “I tire of these endless fields of sugar cane. From my seat here on this elevated sedan chair, fifteen feet in the air, I can see for miles. It is maddening to see how slowly we make our way to the rum factory. These dirt roads laced through the fields are a bewildering maze. The twelve foot tall, thick stands of sugar cane stalks block the view from the ground. Only I and my driver are high enough in the air to see where we are going.”

  “Hey, Overseer Scar’geiverre, how do your life impaired farm labourers find their way back to the houses and factories?”

  “It is the hit and miss with the zombie, Monsieur Overseer Cross. If we lose a few zombies here and there, who is going to miss them?”

  “A clear case of having to produce the corpus, eh? Aha! I see the factory up ahead. What’s this? I see a hundred or more zombies stumbling about through the fields. This is an inexcusable waste of our company’s labour resources! Overseer Scar’geiverre, ascertain what these stupid zombies are doing!”

  “It looks to me, Monsieur Overseer Cross, that they are searching for something or someone. Perhaps they are in search of the white women we heard of?”

  “Yes, yes, yes, of course. Now hurry these caterpillarized cadavers into getting me to the factory!”

  “Oui Monsieur Overseer Cross!”

  “Finally! Here we are. Make these brutes stand still and keep this crazy cab steady as I climb down!”

  “There, now I am back on terra firma. I presume this barn door to be the main entrance to this vast facility.”

  “You zombies, why do you look at me with such a an aura of, … menacing hunger? Back off, corpus, I am not your delicti, I am Overseer Howard C. Cross! You will obey my writ! By the ‘Power of Attorney’ I command you, take me to Overseer Sourrebhierre!”

  “...uuuhhh...”

  “All right then, that’s better. Ah, there you are, Overseer Sourrebhierre. What’s this all about?”

  “Overseer Cross! I saw two white women! One with the bright red hair, she is wearing the black dress. She is filling this dress out in a pleasing way to be sure Monsieur. The other, her hair is not so bright of a red and she is wearing a white dress. This one does not show off as much as the first one, but she too is looking very good, I am thinking, oui. One minute they just appear, from out of nowhere, the next moment, ‘poof’, they are gone, like they were never here.”

  “Them never having been here is probably the more likely scenario. Have you been sampling the product a little too much, Overseer Sourrebhierre? I think you dreamed up the whole thing! This is a hidden island, you idiot! No one comes to San Monique!”

  “I tell you, I saw them! This is a big, rambling, old building. There are many places they could hide. I will keep my zombies searching until I find them!”

  “Well, it better be soon, Overseer Sourrebhierre. You have half your zombies out searching the fields, many more are still searching about inside! Only a few zombies are left to keep this plant functioning. Either we find these alleged women quickly, or we go ahead and return to production as usual.”

  “Agreed. If they are hiding in the factory, we will find them. If they have managed to sneak out and go into hiding in the fields, we will flush them out. They will not escape.”

  thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh

  thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh

  “Well get ready to tell it to the big man himself. I can hear and feel the approach of his ‘doombuggy’. His mechanical wonder is not confined to the roads as my sugar cane stalk, basket woven, zombie powered caterpillar carriage is, but can move freely through the fields. I am duly impressed with the speed his clock and steam transport device can make.”

  “It is fitting for he that is the master! Here is Sku Le’Bizarre now!”

  thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh

  thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh

  “Master!”

  “Skullzy baby!”

  “Report!”

  “Yes, Master! I was duly making my regular inspections when I spotted two white women...”

  “Was one of them a stuck-up British
aristocrat?”

  “Oui!”

  “Hah! I bet it was that Plumtartt woman. What of the other?”

  “Black dress and red hair, but, I doubt the sincerity of the hair being its natural shade. The rest of her was equally unbelievable.”

  “I do not know this woman, but I believe your story to be true. I will not suffer to have my ‘Valley of Discontent’ defiled! My visit to our ‘Horned Plateau’s’ side of the ‘Craven Cavern’ entrance confirmed in my mind that the western exit had been assaulted by three white men. I am thinking that one of them was that miserable little Alabama toadlick, Ichabod Temperance. I received a description of another one that I believe to be Los Angelos police detective O’Hagan.”

  “Joshua O’Hagan! Why this is clearly a case of harassment by the city of Los Angelos! Your rights are being trampled, Skullzo. We’ll sue the City of the Angels into the ground!”

  “There was tell of a third man, tall and strong.”

  “We shall kill these intruders on sight, Master!”

  “No, Overseer Sourrebhierre, I want them captured alive. Perhaps they will qualify as further sacrifice in the coming ceremony.”

  “Oui, Master!”

  “You got it, Big Guy!”

  “Ah, I see that my zombies have topped up the twelve legged ‘DoomBuggy’s’ furnace with depleted stalks and filled her water reservoirs. Go ahead and put a few turns on the springs while you’re at it and clear those leaves from the articulated leg joints.”

  “Oui, Master!”

  “Capture the fugitives! I am incensed that anyone would dare to come here! I am infuriated that my protective hexes on this island have been violated! The insolent worms must be made to suffer for this trespass.”

  “Oui, Master!”

  “Roger, roger, boss.”

  thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh

  thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh/thumpuh

  “Okay, Overseer Sourrebhierre, I’m gonna go with Overseer Scar’geiverre on the ‘Cadaverpillar’ and search in the eastern fields with a squad of of about twenty of your zombies.”