Spectacular Moments of Wonder with Dr. Monocle: That Certain Gentleman

by John Theesfeld

  We all set about to separate areas until meal time. I took the time to polish my monocle, jot down some notes, and just reflect. I made a few notations in my notebook, mostly updating existing entries. The bullet hole did ruin many pages from the book.

  I considered why I was here. That Certain Gentleman. I'm certain I knew his name. I'm certain we were introduced properly. Did Mr. Kilmarten introduce us? I couldn't remember. For the life of me, I have no recollection.

  I remember trekking up the staircase, then along the landing, and down the grand hallway. There at the end of the dark hallway was the bright light of his study, the silhouette of That Certain Gentleman in the doorway. Walking towards his study, I remember seeing paintings by Gartes, De Veloblanc, and Haarkaans. He greeted me there at the door. What was his name? He told me to feel free to look at his collection and I did. He and Mr. Kilmarten talked.

  There's a blank space there and it is quite embarrassing, to say the least. A travesty for posterity's sake.

  That Certain Gentleman intrigued me. Perhaps he never offered his name. Maybe he danced me around the topic altogether. The level of secrecy Mr. Kilmarten seemed to be sworn to, the fervor in which all this came to, like a whirlwind.

  I wondered if he realized how much we had gone through already. I suppose he did warn me that it would be a treacherous bit of adventuring.

  We sat around a fire built close to the wall near the Clerk House. We ate a simple meal and held a quiet discussion about nothing in particular. Afterward, I had myself a pipe as our moods turned brighter.

  Louise asked me, "How do you keep your hat on with all the jumping around and adventuring you do, doctor?"

  "A fine hatter, a tight hat band, and magnets." I replied.

  "Magnets?"

  "Magnets, indeed."

  "His noggin's got metal cranial bits," The Strongman put it in a way that was straight and to the point.

  "What do you mean? Do you have a metal plate in your head or something? Magnets?" Louise laughed, her interest was terribly piqued.

  I chuckled at Louise, she stymied herself like her father. As her bemusement subsided, I was able to answer her properly, joking aside, "Well, Louise," it was always a strange subject to bring up and I never really knew how to phrase it, "I've died, what seems like, thousands of times. Mind you, not gravely dead, but dead in the moment. I always come back, never dead for long."

  "What, you're immortal?" Louise asked.

  "No, no, no." I was quick to correct her, "Certainly not immortal. Perhaps too much an admirer of precariously perilous adventures. I've tread where men won't dare; for those who have never lived to tell the tales. I've just been lucky, I suppose. Randomosity is on my side. Perhaps I’ve built up a tolerance to death."

  "They say it's the tattoos," The Strongman interjected.

  "Aye," I smirked, "the superstitious believe I've been blessed by tribal inks from all over the world; that I'm protected by the world of the dead."

  "Interesting," Louise said as she instinctively looked at the tattoos peeking out from my shirt sleeves, rolled halfway up my forearm. I took a puff from my pipe.

  "Why do you need the big man then?" Hendryk quipped.

  "Again, not immortal. While some say it's the tattoos, The Strongman probably deserves more credit for keeping me safe than anything else," I explained. "Which brings us back to the hat and the magnets. Years ago I was captured by the Therratic of Southland. They claimed I was a spy for The Monarch. As a form of interrogation, they decided it would work best if they allowed ginku larva to crawl into my nostrils and ears. The madness was insufferable. The world turned into a hellish nightmare. In my time of desperate need, I summoned the will to break free and I ran through the desert of Southland without direction and in a terribly insane state."

  I gave them the short version of events. "I was eventually saved by Gorillians. They had one of their surgeons remove the larva. They had to remove two little pieces of my skull to get the larva from the surface of my brain. They replaced the skull bits they removed with little metal plates. I made the best of the situation and had my hatter sew magnets into my hat. I’ve fallen several stories, the hat didn't budge. I've been caught at great speeds while atop of an out of control nimbulator, and the hat stayed on. I've been punched in the face, and the hat remained firm. Oddly, I still maintain the habit of palming the hat to the top of my head even at the slightest gust of wind."

  “Thought something might be going on with that brain of yours,” Louise said playfully. “And what about you?” Louise turned to The Strongman, “You were in a circus, were you?”

  He replied, “Yeah, that's right.”

  “Let me guess, you would tantalize the crowd with your power of wits?”

  “My wits have knocked men unconscious, if we’re talking about the same thing,” he smiled.

  “No, really, though, what did you do? Bend iron bars into bows? Lift nimbulator gears high above your head?”

  “Something like that.”

  Hendryk interrupted, "You look like a bruiser, to me. You a bruiser? A brawler? What do you call it? You face-bashers, what do you call yourselves?"

  "What are you on about, Hendryk?" Louise snapped back annoyed.

  "Look at those knuckles," Hendryk mocked him. "Look at those crumpled ears, that broad nose. Looks like you've been in a brawl or two. A bruiser be bruised. Are you a bruiser?"

  "Are you looking for a fight?" The Strongman stood to face Hendryk.

  "Now, boys," Louise verbally stepped between them.

  I stood to the side with my pipe and watched the men behaving like children. Hendryk was poking at a poorly tempered beast, but I’m not sure how aware of that he was.

  "Hendryk, if I may, before you do or say anything else," I thought a brief moment to gather my thoughts, all of which involved Hendryk's impending doom at the hands of The Strongman, "If you continue behaving this way, please do keep in mind, once he gets his hands on you, I can not stop him."

  Hendryk looked at me and he understood. He looked at The Strongman perhaps a little differently. He walked off into the Clerk House, “I’m turning in for the night.”

  As Hendryk closed the door, Louise reassured The Strongman, "Don't mind him."

  "He should mind himself," The Strongman muttered.

  "He's anxious to get back to the surface," Louise said.

  "At this point, I think we all are," I quipped.

  "So, tell me," Louise said, "once we find this key, then what?"

  "Then that's it," I said. "For you anyway. You can get back to fighting The Insectoid Six and we'll be headed on to our drop point."

  "How about sticking around for a bit? Helping us out?" Louise said as she smiled nervously and a bit cautiously, "Maybe even just looking over what my father has planned, looking out for any holes, potential problems?"

  I paused for but a brief moment, yet a moment that hung between us for longer. I caught the worry in her face, the way it wrinkled her eyes differently when she smiled.

  "Things not going accordingly?" I asked, fishing for information.

  "They could be better," she said, "but things could always be better. It just seems every time we get a step ahead, we just wind up getting pushed a step back."

  "You need to hit them hard, with everything you’ve got,” The Strongman offered. “And you can’t stop hitting them. When one is down, you go after another. And you don’t stop. Not until you’re sure they ain’t getting back up.”

  Louise became thoughtful and quiet for a moment.

  “Ah, yes,” I agreed, “relentless pummeling. A fine tactic when you’ve got power enough to spare.”

  “At this point, he may just be right.” Louise smirked. “At this point, I think that’s all they’ll respond to.”

  The conversation turned to travel as Louise asked question after question about metros outside of the desert. Louise nearly exhausted me for good. Our conversations continued for only a while longer before we turned in and sl
ept. We all made room on the floor of the Clerk House. It wasn’t a large building, but it kept us comfortable and warm for a night of rest. We managed to keep the small building warm with its old wood burning stove.

  This little house in this deep cavernous hole strewn with track was one of the more pleasant places I’ve slept away from home. The random echos of sounds distant and unknown lulled me to sleep that evening. There was such a stillness within it all. Still, I couldn’t shake the lingering questions surrounding the monkey.

  33

  The gate crashed open and we all awoke, each of us startled and rattled from deep slumber. It was so abrupt my mind couldn’t process my surroundings. I wasn’t even aware I was on the floor, let alone a small house inside of a cave.

  My brain and memory came around to meet each other and I was soon able to attain a hold on the situation. Initially I thought it to be more underdwellars. Instead, we carefully peered from a window to find a partial collection of Ornery Bedfellows. Hendryk and Louise stood just behind me, peering out at them, watching them emerge from the elevator shaft.

  Miss Dorothy Shelton, Mr. Brisk, Sasha Greenwich (if that was her real name), and the monkey wearing a fez. Absent were The Fool Assassin and The Weather Man, it seemed. Perhaps, I thought, they didn’t survive the desert crash.

  All of them, but for the monkey, held revolvers aimed at the Clerk House.

  “Are you in there, Monocle? Come on out!” Miss Dorothy Shelton shouted.

  “Hello, Miss Shelton,” I shouted back, “how are you this fine morning?” I checked my pocket watch to be sure it was morning. We hadn’t seen natural light in quite some time.

  “Please spare me the pleasantries, Doctor. And my name is Anna,” she returned. “You hear me, Arthur?” She waited for a response and then continued, “We’ll make you a deal. If you come out and give yourself up, your friends can go free. How does that sound?”

  “What is this?” Hendryk asked me as he strapped his guns to his hips.

  “Assassins. Bloody nuisances,” I explained to Hendryk and Louise that these were, minus two, the ones trying to kill me. Except for the large man with them, he just wanted to kill The Strongman. The two lovely women and the monkey, they wanted me dead. I went on to explain how there were others, but Hendryk didn’t want to hear it.

  “Why does the monkey want you dead?” Louise whispered, confused by the small monkey with such violent tendencies.

  “I don’t know. The monkey is a new member to their group,” I explained, looking for reason, but finding nothing. “I don’t know who any of them truly are. I thought Miss Shelton was someone nice and pleasant.”

  “Well, ask them who they’re working for,” Louise said in a hushed tone.

  I shouted loud enough for them to hear me, “Tell me who is employing you! I demand to know!”

  “Time for that later, Monocle,” Miss Shelton, Anna, responded quickly.

  “You’re not going to make this easy on us, are you, Miss Shelton?” I shouted.

  “We’re armed, old man,” Mr. Brisk yelled, “and you and that Strongman of yours ain’t getting out alive.”

  “So which will it be, then? Time for that later, as Miss Shelton- Pardon me, Anna - says, or will you just be killing us?” Anna and Mr. Brisk seemed at odds.

  Unlike us, The Strongman sat back away from the window. He checked the chamber of his gun as he sat on the floor, his elbows resting on his bent knees. He spoke quietly to Hendryk and Louise, “Which tracks do we use to get out of here?”

  “Track 3 or 4. Why?” Hendryk replied and asked in return.

  He cocked the hammer of his revolver, “I’m going out there. I’m firing all rounds. I want you to fire with me, not all at once, but keep an eye out for me. When you think you can, get a cart on each track, 3 and 4. Dr. Monocle and I will take one, you two take the other.”

  “We’ll meet at the depot. It’s the end of the line.” Hendryk explained.

  The Strongman stood up from the floor and the wooden planks below him squeaked and creaked an awful symphony that echoed into the cavern. The three of them outside came to look unnerved and the monkey wearing a fez darted off, back up the lift shaft.

  “You’re not really going out there, are you?” Louise feared for him.

  “I’m just going to hit them as hard as I can.” And with that he burst through the door of the Clerk House, his gun aimed at them and firing. The explosion of gun powder from the barrel of his gun was deafening. They scattered, looking for places to hide. Louise and Hendryk followed, firing shots randomly in their direction. The Bedfellows all hid behind derailed mine carts, cowering.

  The Strongman made his way over to where Mr. Brisk hid behind a mine cart. It was at this point we scurried from the house to attempt getting the carts onto the rails. They were heavy to say the least. We worked slowly, but managed to finally get a cart upright after removing the dried bones of the unlucky chap within.

  The Strongman overturned the cart effortlessly, tossing it aside. He grabbed Mr. Brisk by his hair and pulled him up, Anna and Sasha Greenwich ran for the lift shaft for cover. The Strongman pummeled Mr. Brisk with his fists. He stood over him, grabbed him by his shirt, and socked him one good. He then repeated the process over and over.

  We pushed and shoved a mine cart across the rocky ground. Eventually we succeeded in getting one cart onto the track and moved on to getting the other into place. Hendryk was barely of any real help as he was more concerned with firing upon Anna and Sasha Greenwich as they ran for cover.

  “Disregard them,” I snapped at him, “help us with the cart!”

  He was just about to take another shot, but he hesitated and made the choice to instead assist Louise and I. We would just have to keep an eye out for the two lethally lovely lasses. This cart we were trying to move wasn’t faring so fondly. I took notice of a rock wedged between the wheel and its housing disrupting movement. I gave it a good few kicks to remedy the situation.

  From one kick to another. Mr. Brisk was able to muster the strength to get in one good kick which seemed to turn the fight around. The Strongman was knocked back and Mr. Brisk followed with several punches, finally knocking The Strongman down to the ground. He didn’t seem to be getting up too swiftly, either. Mr. Brisk stood over him and caught his breath before turning towards us.

  His face was bloody and mangled, like The Strongman tried to remove Mr. Brisk’s fair gentlemanly looks.

  Hendryk aimed his gun at him, but it was too late. Mr. Brisk was upon him effortlessly and disarmed him. The mangled-faced behemoth kicked the cart towards Louise and me, knocking us over. He grabbed Hendryk by his shirt holding him in place. He reared his arm back and was ready to strike. His fist would have completely pulverized Hendryk’s face into a lifeless mess. Instead, The Strongman stood up and from behind, holding a mine cart above his head, he crashed it down atop Mr. Brisk who, in turn, dropped Hendryk.

  With that, The Strongman was presented with a knife to the back of his leg thrown by Sasha Greenwich. He immediately yanked the blade from his leg just as we got the second cart onto the tracks.

  The Strongman picked me up by the back of my coat, lifted me from the ground and placed me in the mine cart. He pushed the cart from behind with a running gait down the track and over the dark abyss. We took track four; Louise and Hendryk on track three.

  "Perhaps not so fast," I suggested, "these wheels feel rickety." These carts hadn't been used in ages. I think, to spite me, The Strongman sprinted faster.

  I saw Hendryk and Louise jump into the other mine cart as I looked back. Anna and Sasha Greenwich attended to Mr. Brisk and were able to get him up and about. He was able to throw a cart onto the track shared by the valiant WingedMen. He threw another cart atop a second track. Anna and Sasha in one, Mr. Brisk in the other. The monkey was nowhere to be seen.

  We were off into the distance and gone. I still only counted the three of them. The Weather Man and The Fool Assassin couldn't be accounted for. I thought
nothing more of them.

  We turned a corner of the elevated track in our mine cart and then through a tunnel. The Strongman reloaded his gun and fired upon the track behind us. It crumbled away. He fired at the ceiling to cause a small cave-in onto the track, securing that we wouldn’t be followed by Mr. Brisk. From there we took a few plunges and rough curves.

  We sped along at a jaunty pace. The cart tipped on two wheels on a few of the harder turns, but we remained on track. The lantern set on the front of the cart only lit the path ahead of us so far. Eventually the track leveled out and we were set and safe. The track took to steady, solid ground upon entering a fair-sized tunnel.

  “At this angle, it should be smooth sailing,” I said as we sped at, what seemed to be, an ever-increasing rate.

  “A boat reference to a guy who don’t like boats ain’t very reassuring, doc,” The Strongman quipped.

  “Sorry,” I apologized.

  The cart rattled and its rickety wheels nearly spun from their axles.

  A sign was posted ahead, on top, 'Trimble Quarry - Left' and beneath that, 'Whitehurst Depot - Right'. I hit the switch to correct course towards Whitehurst Depot and as the track and tunnel forked, we went rightwards.

  "You know where we're going?" The Strongman asked.

  "Not really," I had to raise my voice over the rumbling sound of the cart on the track. "Hopefully we meet up at Whitehurst Depot."

  We sped along dangerously. I applied the breaks sparingly, as I could feel the tension reverberate through the handle. The tunnel suddenly opened up into a wider area, a room, before leading back into the tunnel. The room, seemingly square from what I could tell with our lantern light, was built for servicing anything that traveled along the track. The room could have been an area for emergency stops, as well. It would have been a useful area for removing faulty carts from the track and such. Now, it was an underdwellar lair. We sped by incredibly quickly, but I noticed them. I wondered, for just a moment, if they had noticed us, or if they would go back to sleeping and lazing about. They were dog-like beasts, large and brutish.