Castle Juliet

by Brandon Berntson

  Alice closed the chest, asked Jack if he was going to keep wearing his outfit, and when he finally took it off—now in his regular clothes—she asked him about lunch.

  “You recover quickly, don’t you, Alice?” Jack said.

  “Hunger does it every time.”

  *

  They headed back to Alice’s house after they finished a couple of tuna fish sandwiches. Jack rode behind Alice on Sue, and Sue led the way. It was a bright, beautiful spring day. The clouds were huge, pillow-like formations against the blue. They took their time, enjoying the brisk ride, the cool air, and everything budding to life around them. They stopped once by a small stream. Sue dipped her head and drank. Purple and yellow flowers had sprung up along the way. Jack hopped off Sue to look at a patch of moss on a nearby tree.

  “Trolls live here,” he said to Alice, and Alice shook her head.

  Vivid colors were everywhere, flowers, trees, the blue sky, the rocks in the stream. Large mushrooms lay spread between blades of grass. It was similar to what Alice experienced with Sue when she’d seen the bald eagle. She hovered on the brink once more, the doorstep to another world barely perceptible beyond the foggy white. The trees gained definition. For a minute, she felt she’d stepped backwards—or maybe it was forwards—through time. She couldn’t tell which, and did it matter? Couldn’t the gnarled characteristic of the trees be from both the past and the future? Fantasy didn’t always have to be about long ago and far away, did it? Isn’t that what Jack was trying to tell her, that magic was not a forgotten art? Fantasy was coming to life now over reality, and she recognized it.

  “Look at the dragonflies, Alice,” Jack said. For a second, he too, seemed to have aged or gone back in time. Could both happen at once, she thought? With what Alice was experiencing lately, she believed so. Light zigzagged through the trees, leaving trails like comets.

  Huge cottonwoods, the expanse of meadow and beige-colored grass, encircled them. The shade was a vast, tent-like canopy. As ludicrous as it seemed, bursts of candy flavors exploded in her mouth. Did a landscape have taste, she thought?

  Alice was still riding Sue, wearing her cowboy hat, while Jack walked along between the trees on one side of the creek. At one time, he bent down and cupped his hand in the water. The water, too, harbored some candy-like purity, something elementary and child-like that could happen only to them. Jack looked up at Alice and smiled, as if cognizant of the same thought. His face transformed, as if universal knowledge shone from his eyes. For a second, Alice was impaled by it, and though it was slightly frightening, she couldn’t help but smile. Her pulse beat rapidly. Jack, telepathically, was relaying a message. Blood gushed like a noisome torrent between her ears. At the same time, the beauty of the woods wrapped its arms around her, cool to the touch. The moment etched itself in her mind, as though engraved on rock. Shape and perception gained another dimension, every molecule of her being humming with life. Newness presented itself to every possibility again. The forest crystallized around her. For some reason, as complex as it was, her sagacity labeled it as simple. She closed her eyes, laughed, and shed several tears.

  “Alice?” Jack said.

  Alice smiled at Jack in wonder, surprise, and awe.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Alice. I feel it, too. King Arthur, I think.”

  Alice understood. Only Alice could understand. Juliet was made for perfection. Friendship and the Round Table.

  *

  Did everyone see things this way, she thought? Could the underlying mystery be perceived now with Jack?

  Alice smiled at the thought, and as she did, her house came into view. Laughter sounded from the back yard, the sound of heavy labor. Alice steered Sue behind the house where Jane, Fred, Phillip, and Gerald were hard at work. They’d made considerable progress. The framework for the stable was already in place. Fred’s truck was near the edge of the yard, the bed laden with building supplies. Fred’s burly, tanned hide glistened with sweat in the warm spring sun. He wore jeans and work boots. His eyes were bright under his thick black hair, mustache, and beard. Fred’s natural complexion was bronze. Alice took a gulp at the sight of him, flushed red in the cheeks, and tried to look away. A handsome man was a handsome man, no matter how you looked at it.

  Phillip, on the other hand, wore a thin white shirt with suspenders, similar to what Alice’s father was wearing. Grimes and smudges lined their shirts and arms. Phillip was positioning one of the posts in the ground while Gerald hammered it into place. Meanwhile, Fred was pulling more boards from the back of the truck.

  Alice saw how the stable was coming together and how it would look in the end. It wasn’t as big as the one at Fred’s house, but it would be more pleasant for Sue than the shed she’d been staying in, which, she saw now, had been removed to the back of the yard.

  The entire backyard had been completely transformed. Seeing what Sue would have for herself made Alice smile. The stable could fit her comfortably. The back fence had been taken down, and no doubt the ground beyond would be the corral and open pasture. Sue was going to be a spoiled horse.

  “Howdy gang!” Alice said, raising her hand in the air.

  Everyone looked up, including Jane, who was helping Fred with the boards. They raised their hands to Alice and Jack. Jack slipped off the saddle and onto the ground, lifting his pants up with one hand from where a belt should be, and walked with bowlegs, trying to imitate the perfect cowboy.

  “How-do, sheriff?” Jack said, and spat. He got more on his arm then on the ground, replying, “Oh, man,” and wiped the spit off his shirt. He looked up, smiling, and said, “How comes the stockade?”

  “Well, let me tell, you, Jacky-boy—” Phillip began, but he didn’t get far before Jack did a quick draw, pulling out his pistols, and pointing them at his father.

  “No one calls me Jacky-boy, sheriff,” Jack said. “Not as long as I’m Marshall, see? You take back them words, sir, or I’m a gonna blast ya!”

  Gerald and Fred smiled at each other and raised their eyebrows.

  “Don’t shoot,” Phillip said, holding his hands up, trying to sound worried, but unable to keep the smile off his face. “I was just asking you what you thought, Marshall Jack, sir.”

  Jack holstered his imaginary pistols and smiled at his father. He put one leg up on a pile of wood as though it were a wagon wheel and spat again—this time with better success, though he still wiped his mouth. He tipped and imaginary hat and said, “Shoot, I could never stay mad at you, sheriff. You done got me this here job. So’s if you wants to call me Jacky-boy, I suppose it’s all right. Reckon you fellers got this all planned straight up against the wind and the rain, looks like?”

  “If little Sue wants to be dry, she’ll be dry. If she wants to run in the wet, she can run in the wet,” Phillip said. “See, we just want to make the horse happy, Marshall.”

  “Well, you’re all doing a mighty fine job, I dare say. I’m impressed.”

  “Why don’t you come and help us, Marshall?” Fred said from the truck. “Honest labor ain’t never killed a man a’fore, no sir.”

  “Well, Mr. Fred, sir,” Jack said. “I’m much obleeged to you. I might even be a little flattered, but I’d rather not get my hands dirty, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Suit yourself,” Fred said. “But its mighty fine work for the soul, and amply rewarding. Makes the lemonade taste better at the end of the day, don’t it, Gerald?”

  “The man tells the truth,” Gerald said to Jack.

  “Might be having hamburgers later, too, Marshall,” Jane said. “So you should stick around and help the boys.”

  Jack tipped his hat in Jane’s direction and smiled. “Well, that’s a mighty fine offer, ma’am, and I accept. Reckon a little dirt never killed no one, neither, unless they was chokin’ on it. You guys want me to, like, hold a bag of nails or something? Gerald, sir? Mr. Fred? I don’t want to just stand around here useless-like.”

  “How else do you stand around, Jack?�
� Alice fired from atop Sue. She tipped her hat in his direction, smirking .

  “Why, I say,” Jack said. “If you weren’t a lady, Alice—I’d have you arrested.” Jack shook his head and looked at his father. “I’ll tell you something, Pop,” Jack said, now in his serious voice. “Ever since Alice here got a taste of what its like to be a cowgirl—owning her own horse and all, she’s just been plain rude sometimes. One big potty, sarcastic, slum-puckin’, no good, needs-her-mouth-washed-out-with-soap, kind of a girl, if not a bit ee-go-tistical! Yes, sir. Ee-go-tistical. Why, I think she thinks like a horse, Pop. No doubt, little Alice needs to be humbled, sir. What do you think, Mr. Fred? Maybe we should start with the hat, let her ride without that and them there boots for a while. We’ll see how that grabs her.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Jack,” Fred said. “I think Lady Alice is probably just enjoying her beloved Sue more and more is all. Nothing wrong with a little confidence, you know?”

  “Why, but I don’t think it is confidence, sir,” Jack replied. “No sir, I don’t think it has anything to do with confidence at all. I think it’s worse than five rabid weasels fighting, chucking, and plucking over a dozen hard-boiled eggs, sir! I can’t understand it. She’s not the same, is all I’m saying. She’s just not the same, and I’m not gonna stand here and put up with it!”

  Jack pulled an invisible weed from his mouth, threw it on the ground, then stomped on it, grinding it into the earth with the heel of his shoe. Or maybe it was a cigarette. No one could tell really; he never took a drag. Everyone laughed at his antics, though, including Alice.

  “Well,” Jack said. “I don’t like it. No sir, I don’t like it one bit. One minute, she’s all sweet, crying audible-like and sensitive, needin’ a hug, and the next she’s all rough and callous around the edges. Well, as Marshall of this town, I’m not gonna stand for it! I’m not gonna stand for it at all! Pain and heartache, my little troopers. Why, if I was sheriff, I’d be throwing her in the stockade, quick-like. Take Sue away from her for several days. What do you think about that, Alice dear? Not so tough now, are you?”

  “I prefer you call me, ‘Queen Juliet,’ Jack,” Alice said.

  Jack gritted his teeth. Gerald did what he could to hide his snicker, but it came out as a snort instead. Phillip and Fred exchanged bemused expressions. Jane put a hand to her head, shook it, but looked rather proud of her daughter.

  “Mrs. Jane,” Jack said. “I think Alice needs to be reprimanded.”

  “Jack,” Alice said. “Do you realize you just used the word ‘reprimanded’ correctly? You should be very proud of yourself.”

  Jack clenched his fists and did everything but scream. It was a sight to behold.

  Alice nudged Sue in the flanks, a token of winning this particular round, and away she went.

  *

  Boxer ran off in search of Alice, anxious to join her. Jack was slightly nonplussed over Alice’s temperament, but the antics—like his antics—were just that, and he got over them quickly. Normally, he enjoyed making others the butt of his jokes; and sometimes, he realized he was supposed to be on the receiving end, so he chalked one up for Alice.

  Once again, however, it was a pleasant gathering at the Skylar residence. As the day progressed, it grew steadily warmer, and though everything hadn’t fully bloomed, it was still a pleasant spring day. Jane reveled in taking care of the boys when she wasn’t helping, making lemonade and sandwiches while they continued their work in the warm sun. During one of these moments, Gerald caught Jane flirting with Fred.

  “Jane?” Gerald said.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Did you just wink at Fred?”

  Jane blushed a deep scarlet. Fred looked on, widening his eyes, standing in the back of his truck. He put his hands up in self-defense. “I had nothing to do with it,” Fred said, and his tan face paled considerably.

  Jane smiled innocently the entire time, while Gerald was adamant to get to the bottom of it. Phillip, however, quick to defend his friend, raised his hands inquiringly to Gerald: “If I may…I saw Fred, and I stand by him one hundred percent. He had nothing to do with it, sir. Your wife is the one to blame.”

  “Phillip, I’m shocked!” Jane said with the same expression on her face. “No sandwiches for you!”

  “Phillip’s quite right, though,” Fred said. “I’m completely innocent.”

  “Jane!” Gerald said again, more flustered than ever. He looked at Jane—who was holding a plate of sandwiches, a pitcher of lemonade with plenty of ice cubes—to Fred and Phillip, who were nothing more than innocent bystanders, standing there with the most pleading, innocent looks on their faces.

  “Well!” Jane suddenly exclaimed in her own defense. “What do you expect? You’re out here, asking me for lemonade, wanting me to help in the presence of three strong, burly, handsome men! One without his shirt off, no less! As far as I’m concerned, Gerald Bartholomew Skylar, you wanted this to happen! You put it into execution! You planned the whole darn thing!”

  “Uh, Jane, you haven’t winked at me yet?” Phillip said, smiling, and raising his eyebrows.

  “You are a brave man,” Fred muttered, shaking his head.

  Jane winked with strong emphasis in Phillip’s direction.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Jane,” Phillip said, smiling. He then turned to Fred and nodded. Fred shook his head in disbelief and looked at the sky.

  “Oh, brother!” Gerald said, setting the shovel against a post, and putting a hand to his head.

  Jack, meanwhile, had been watching this with an amused look on his face, not daring to say anything. If Boxer were here, he’d have sought solace with the dog.

  “I must plead the fifth, Gerald,” Phillip said, coughing into his hand. “If we’d have known we owned such burly, handsome features, and that they were going to be a distraction for Jane, I’d have worn a mask and a robe.”

  “I can at least put my shirt back on,” Fred said, reaching for his shirt, which was draped over the bed of the truck.

  “No!” Jane said, and Fred stopped in terror. Jane paled, looking guiltily at her husband.

  “Well well,” Gerald said, smugly. “The truth comes out.”

  Jane blushed an even deeper scarlet now. She took a step backwards, still holding the plate of sandwiches and the lemonade, looking quickly for an escape route, and said, quite simply, “Help me, Jack.”

  “I will rescue you, milady!” Jack jumped up and said, who pulled out an imaginary sword, but didn’t seem to know what to do with it.

  “Phillip?” Fred said. “You…uh…want to get a milkshake in town or something?”

  “Are you kidding, Fred?” Phillip said, virtually licking his lips. “This is just getting juicy.”

  “I’m with Dad,” Jack said, whose eyes were alight.

  “I thought you were coming to my defense, Jacky-boy,” Jane said, shocked.

  “In a minute, Mrs. Jane,” Jack said. “In a minute! I want to see how this turns out!”

  Jane shook her head. “Gerald, love,” she said. Stepping over to her husband. She set the lemonade and the plate of sandwiches on a pile of 2 x 4’s. She stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. “There’s only one man for me. You know that. Handsomer than all the rest—”

  “Even me, Mrs. Jane?” Phillip said.

  “You’re pushing your luck,” Fred whispered.

  “Even you, Phillip, I’m sorry to say,” Jane said.

  “Well, you can’t win em all,” Phillip said to Fred.

  Fred just shook his head. “I still say you’re a brave man.”

  “Anyway!” Jane said, with emphasis, looking in both Fred and Phillip’s direction. She turned back to Gerald. “There’s only one man for me, and he’s handsomer than all the rest. And that man is the Father of our dear little Alice.”

  Gerald blushed like a schoolboy and said, “Ah, shucks!”

  “Who just happens to be missing at the moment,” Jack said.

  “Than
ks, hon,” Gerald said, and kissed his wife on the top of her head.

  “Worse than a bunch of kids,” Jack said.

  “That was a close one,” Fred said, wiping his brow.

  “I’d say we got out of that one pretty well unscathed, wouldn’t you say?” Phillip said.

  “A mighty fine show,” Fred agreed.

  At that moment, Alice returned, and Boxer was jumping excitedly and yipping next to her. She stopped near the edge of the yard, slipped off Sue, still holding the reigns.

  “What did I miss?” she asked.

  “Nothing!” Fred said, quickly. “Nothing at all!” Who, despite it all, slipped his shirt back on, and everyone laughed. Alice cocked her head, wondering what was going on. Fred blushed crazily. Jane looked at Fred, stomped her foot, and said, “Drat!” Everyone laughed again, and Gerald chimed in with another: “Jane!” And all this did was confuse Alice even more than she was already.

  “You guys are weird,” she said.

  CHAPTER XIV

  A REBEL DEFECTS;

  ALICE PLAYS A FATEFUL ROLE

  After a week, Sue’s stable was complete. The entire structure was more than Alice had hoped or imagined, made with plywood and the size for Sue to stand comfortably out of the weather. Alice looked out at the wide expanse beyond and thought about the open pasture where Sue would roam surrounded by a simple fence. Phillip had surprised her when the stable was completed. He’d made a sign he’d carved in his woodshop with Sue’s name on it. Phillip fitted the sign to the space above the entrance, and now the stable was official. Sue had a home. Alice jumped up and down when it was completed. Sue, as well, ran with a buoyant step. Sometimes, Alice would sit on the back porch just watching her. Alice was convinced Sue was happier and more comfortable than she’d ever been, not to take anything away from Fred.

  The weather grew warmer still as the days moved by. Regardless of the sometimes wind and rain, the earth turned along with the trees, the leaves, and flowers, and everything budded fully to life by the month of May. School was even more pleasant. With the consistent warmth, the hint of summer lurked around the corner already, and every child throughout Storyville grew anxious for the last day of school.