“Yes,” Winkie agreed. “She’s a vision of loveliness.”
“What?” said Elspeth. “Who? Her? She’s a doll.”
“You can say that again,” said Winkie.
“No, she actually is a doll,” said Elspeth.
“It’s just an expression,” said Winkie. “You didn’t really have to say it again.”
“You don’t understand,” said Elspeth. “She used to be my best friend.”
“You know her?” said Winkie, barely able to maintain his composure. “Perhaps you would do me the honor of an introduction.”
“Sure.” Elspeth sighed. “But just to warn you, she’s a real heartbreaker.”
“I’ll bet,” said Winkie, his eyes blinking for the first time since landing on Farrah, the only woman he had ever encountered who was anywhere close to his own height. In addition, her near complete lack of hair made him feel far less self-conscious about his own baldness.
So engaged in pleasant conversation were Farrah and Bo-Peep that neither noticed they had been approached until Elspeth cleared her throat.
“Oh. Hello,” said Farrah, sounding both guilty and defensive.
“I see you’ve found a new chess partner,” said Elspeth, not even trying to hide her annoyance.
“Not a very good one, I’m afraid,” chuckled Bo-Peep. “She’s beaten me nine times straight.”
“What can I say?” said Farrah. “After all, I learned from the best.”
“Yeah, save it for someone who cares,” said Elspeth. “Anyway, I just came over to introduce you to Winkie. I mean, William.”
From the ground below, Winkie offered a shy smile and a half wave. “King William!” Bo-Peep gasped and jumped to her feet. “Forgive me. I didn’t see you there.”
“Not to worry,” said Winkie. “I’m used to it. Besides, I know you weren’t expecting me.”
“Did you say King William?” asked Farrah.
“Yes,” said Winkie. “William the Umpteenth.”
“I’ve heard wonderful things about you,” the doll replied with a smile so sweet that it activated Elspeth’s gag reflex. “A real man of the people, I’m told. I’m Farrah.”
“It is indeed a pleasure to meet you,” said Winkie.
“Oh, but the pleasure is all mine,” cooed Farrah.
Elspeth’s tolerance for this type of talk was quite low to begin with. Being that it involved her former best friend fawning over someone who was not her made it downright unbearable. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” she snipped.
But Winkie would have to wait to further acquaint himself with Farrah because word of his return had spread throughout the encampment. The tiny former king was soon surrounded by his loyal subjects, many of whom had supposed he must be dead.
And while William the Umpteenth basked in adulation, he was not the only one to be lavished with attention. Looking out across the compound, Elspeth spied Jack and Jill, who were busy receiving warm greetings from many people and one nonperson, namely a very self-involved wheel of cheese.
“Don’t ever do that again. You had the Cheese worried sick,” said the Cheese.
It was obvious that Jack and Jill were among the more well-liked residents of the suburbs, or “Loserville,” as Elspeth decided it should be called. She wondered what it must be like to be so popular, to have so many people light up just at the sight of you.
“What have we here?” boomed a voice she immediately recognized. She turned to see Dumpty, smiling as broadly as the hardened scars on his face would allow. “I had a feeling you’d be back. And I see you’ve managed to bring your parents with you.”
“What?” said Elspeth. “You mean you’ve known about that all along?”
“Not all along,” said Dumpty. “But once I went back and checked the Book, it was quite obvious. You should take a look at page thirty-five when you get a chance. Lack of chubbiness aside, it’s quite a remarkable likeness.”
“Yes, I’ve seen it,” said Elspeth. “At the trial.”
“Trial?”
“I was accused of treason . . . or for thinking about treason, I don’t know. Anyway, Krool was planning to execute me in three days when luckily the mice showed up to rescue us.”
“Must have been terribly traumatic for you,” said Dumpty. “The important thing is that you all got out in one piece.”
“Actually,” said Elspeth, scanning the treetops one last time, “not all of us, I’m afraid.”
The news of Fergus’s death turned out to be much harder on Dumpty than Elspeth had imagined it would. While Dumpty may have found the owl annoying and at times unbearably so, the two, as it turns out, were very old friends. They’d grown up together, and Dumpty had even served as best man at Fergus and Vera’s wedding.
“I’m sorry,” said Elspeth. She placed a hand on Dumpty’s arm. “If it weren’t for me . . . if I had listened to you about going to the castle . . .”
“No,” said Dumpty, turning away momentarily. “You did what you had to do.” There came a couple of long, wet sniffs before he was finally able to continue. “It’s not your fault. War is a nasty business. These things are just some of the many unsavory aspects.” When he turned back to Elspeth, his eyes were noticeably red and he appeared anxious to change the subject. “So then. We lost one of ours, but I see you’ve recruited one of theirs.”
Georgie sat on the ground, alone as one can be amid a large group. Each of the residents seemed to be making a considerable effort to ignore him.
“According to Winkie, Georgie’s the one who sold him out,” said Elspeth. “He’s the one who opened the castle gate to let Krool in.”
“That is the rumor,” said Dumpty.
“He denies it, of course,” said Elspeth. “And he promised to help us. To tell us everything he knows about Krool.”
“That would certainly be most useful,” said Dumpty. “Still, I think it best to keep a very close eye on him.”
Jeepers creepers, people eaters,
Awful beasts and evil creatures.
Hide us in a pumpkin shell,
So they can’t find us very well.
Chapter 21
When Dumpty assembled the crowd to announce that the young girl they’d met previously was indeed the famous Jacqueline Jillson, the reactions ranged from disbelief to absolute euphoria. Could it really be her? No, too chubby. And obnoxious. But Jack and Jill would certainly know their own daughter, wouldn’t they? And wise King William seemed to think she was the real deal. Then it must be her. Oh glorious day! Unless it wasn’t her. Then what?
Whether ecstatic or skeptical, the response was nearly universal to the news that Elspeth’s presence would make it necessary to pull up camp and move deeper into the woods, where Krool’s soldiers would likely never set foot, being that strange and horrifying beasts were rumored to live there.
“But what about the Nine-Horned Skewerodontus?” asked Jack Sprat.
“Or the Great Spiny Gleekin?” begged his portly wife.
“Or the rabbits?” whined Simple Simon.
“There’s no such thing,” said Dumpty. “All those things are legends, nothing more. Except for the rabbits.”
“Not true,” shouted Goosey Goosey Gander, a very high-strung goose with patches of missing feathers and a nervous twitch. “Just last week my nephew spoke to a very good friend who was nearly devoured by a Devourasaur.”
“Fine,” said Dumpty, throwing up his hands. “If you want to believe in fairy tales, that’s your business. But there is another threat that is very real, and that’s Krool’s army. You can bet he’ll be sending more soldiers after Elspeth, and if we stay here we’ll be nothing but sitting ducks.”
“I’m a goose.”
“It’s just an expression,” said Dumpty. “The point is, if we don’t get out of here soon, our goose will be cooked.”
“That’s offensive,” said the goose.
“Dumpty’s right, for a change,” shouted the Crooked Man. “Instead of bein
g afraid of a bunch of made-up nonsense, we should be worried about a real monster dwelling right within our midst.” He straightened his crooked arm as well as he could and shot a crooked finger at Georgie. “This man. He’s sold us out once before, and it’s only a matter of time before he does it again.”
Soon a grumbling, mumbling crowd began to close in around Georgie. When verbal threats escalated to shoves, Elspeth shouted, “Stop! Leave him alone. Anyone who lays a finger on him will have to answer to me. Is that clear?”
The crowd murmured in reluctant agreement, and Georgie was relieved when finally they wandered away to begin folding their tents and packing up their meager possessions in preparation for the move.
Jack and Jill stepped up beside Elspeth, one on either side, and Jack placed a hand upon her shoulder. “They listen to you,” he said. “They respect you. That’s important.”
“I hope you realize what a great thing it is you’re doing for everyone,” said Jill.
“I’m not doing this for them,” said Elspeth. “I’m doing it for me.”
“Still,” said Jill, “you’ve given hope to us all.”
Elspeth looked at the gloomy group around her. “They don’t look very hopeful,” she said.
“Yes,” Jack was forced to agree. “They’re not the peppiest bunch, I must admit.”
“That’s where you come in,” said Jill. “If anyone can fire them up, it’s you.”
“I don’t know,” Elspeth said doubtfully. “It’ll be a bit like firing up a wet match. Maybe a change of scenery will help.”
There was no question that the suburbs had been an awful place to live, but it had also been a place to call home, and with that always comes certain attachments. Some of the residents had lived there long enough to put down roots, quite literally speaking. In fact, no one was more upset by the decision to move than Manuel.
“If I could come with you, I would,” he said now that it was official and Dumpty had ordered the group to form a single file for the long march ahead. “You will come visit me once in a while, si?”
“Of course we will,” Winkie promised. “And if you and your fellow trees and shrubs could relay any useful information our way, it would be greatly appreciated.”
“You can count on us, Your Highness,” said Manuel. “If Krool sends his army into the forest, I’ll make sure you get plenty of warning.”
Then, as they trudged by, Manuel hugged each member of the group—with only two exceptions. The first was Georgie, to whom he gave the cold shoulder (or in this case, the cold limb). The second was Elspeth. Savior of the people or not, he still considered her an outsider and remained cautious of her. When she passed by he offered a branch, and she shook it firmly. “Good luck, señorita,” Manuel said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“You can hope all you want,” said Elspeth. “But the truth is, I have no idea what I’m doing.”
The search for a suitable place to set up camp was one long, somber parade with talking kept to a minimum so frightened ears could remain alert for a sudden attack by a poisonous Tiger Snake or the giant Germese Stranglerat.
“I think we’ve gone far enough,” said Carol Sprat. She spoke from both fear and exhaustion, though the perspiration that streamed down her face was mostly from the latter.
“Just a little farther,” said Dumpty. Dealing with such a disgruntled group was a stressful business, and his vertigo was getting the better of him. He stopped and leaned against a tree for support. “It’s important to make sure we have at least a half day’s head start on them once they enter the forest.”
With a few deep breaths Dumpty’s equilibrium soon returned, and they continued on, the group growing increasingly fearful and paranoid with each turn along the path. Elspeth wondered just how she was going to fire up these wet matches.
“What was that?” shrieked Jack Horner, spinning quickly around. “I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It was black and moving along the ground.”
“That was your shadow,” said Elspeth. “See?”
“Oh,” said Jack Horner, giving his shadow a wave. “That’s a relief, isn’t it? Next time we might not be so lucky.”
“Ahh! What was that?” shouted Little Miss Muffet only moments later. She spun in circles while desperately slapping at the nape of her neck. “I felt something touch my back.”
“That was your wig,” said Elspeth.
“It’s not a wig,” sobbed Miss Muffet, highly insulted. “It’s a weave.”
“I don’t care if it’s wicker basket,” said the Cheese. “Can we just keep rolling? It’s hot out here. If we don’t get there soon the Cheese is gonna turn into a giant puddle of fondue.” Instantly, the Cheese had second thoughts as to the wisdom of his chosen words.
“Hey, Carol Sprat, don’t you be looking at the Cheese that way. And I don’t want you three anywhere near me,” said the Cheese to Earl Gray, James Brown, and Barry White, who had been following as closely behind him as possible just to bask in his wonderful aroma.
“And you, Jack Horner. If you don’t get your tongue back in your mouth I’m liable to give you a knuckle sandwich.”
Jack Horner just stood and stared, salivating at the notion of a knuckle sandwich with cheese.
Still, the journey continued without imaginary monsters eating any of the travelers and without any of the travelers eating the Cheese. The spot that Dumpty eventually settled upon looked similar to the old camp, if not a bit more overgrown and noticeably darker with the closely knit trees allowing less sunlight to reach the forest floor.
“Okay, this looks good,” Dumpty said to the grousing crowd as they stumbled into the site of what they hoped would be a very temporary home.
“New Loserville,” Elspeth dubbed the place with a whisper to herself. “If that was the suburbs, this is definitely the slums.”
“Yes, it’s not much,” agreed Winkie. “Let’s just say I’ll be happy once we’re back in the castle where we all belong.”
“You mean where you all belong,” Elspeth reminded him.
“Yes. Pardon me,” said Winkie.
Looking about the camp, Elspeth noticed something she considered strange. When the journey had first begun, Winkie was riding on Jack’s right shoulder and Farrah on his left. Now the two sat side by side on Jack’s left. And were they holding hands? Yes, they were holding hands. Disgusting, thought Elspeth.
When the complaining had tapered off to a manageable level, Dumpty directed attention to himself and advised everyone to set up their tents right away and settle in for a good night’s rest. Their new commander in chief was anxious to begin training first thing the following morning.
There was none among them in greater need of sleep than Elspeth herself, and as darkness fell upon the forest, she was happy to be shown to a large tent reserved for her alone. Though it would not qualify as a mattress by anyone’s standards, there was a folded-up blanket on which to lie and a small cloth sack of dried beans that would serve as a pillow.
When Elspeth first placed her head upon it, the resulting crunch made her think she would never get to sleep with such noise. In nearly twelve years of living, she had never been more wrong, for the crunching only happened when she moved, and for the next nine hours she didn’t. Not even the slightest bit. No flailing, no horrible nightmares, no grinding of teeth.
It was essentially her first time camping in the savage outdoors, and by sunrise she had inhaled more savagely fresh air than she ever had before. She awoke energetic, invigorated, and intrigued by the parcel resting on the ground next to her.
About the size of a throw pillow, it was wrapped in brown paper and held in place with twine tied in a bow. Gently and ever so slowly, she tugged at the bow, and when the twine fell away, the package unfolded, presenting a uniform. There were pants, a shirt, and a coat made of wool in crimson and gray with brass buttons down the middle of the coat and partway up each sleeve. It was identical in every way to the one worn by the girl on p
age thirty-five.
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
Asleep in the slums
And nigh is the morn.
Where are the ones who will rid us of Krool?
They’re snoring and snorting and covered in drool.
Will you wake them?
Oh no, not I,
For knowing them, they’ll surely cry.
Chapter 22
With lack of practice, his lip had gone weak, and it took Little Boy Blue several attempts to get something that sounded like reveille to come out of the bell of his horn. After that, he was forced to play it four more times when the initial response to it was less than unanimous.
When the troops had finally assembled, General Pule stood before them in her crisp new uniform, the work of Old Mother Hubbard, she’d been told. With her team of advisors (Winkie, Dumpty, and Georgie) at her side, she surveyed the ranks, for the first time getting a good look at what she had, or did not have, to work with.
Even without the Cheese, who maintained his isolationist policy, insisting on continuing to stand alone, they were nearly two hundred strong—though “strong” may not have been the appropriate word, considering that that number included a highly neurotic goose, an incoherently mumbling dish, a spoon who spoke only Portuguese, an old woman who, until recently, had lived in a shoe, a painfully crooked old man, three visually impaired mice, and a plum-pie-loving boy with two broken thumbs.
Elspeth stepped away from her troops in order that she might confer with her advisors. “I don’t know,” she said with an exasperated sigh. Firmly clasped in her right hand was Gene, whose heroic actions at the castle and in the crevasse had earned him the position of Elspeth’s right-hand man. “They don’t look like much of an army. Maybe that’ll change once we start issuing weapons.”
“Weapons?” said Dumpty.
Elspeth spun around so quickly she nearly threw her neck out of joint. “What? You do have weapons,” she said.
Dumpty and Winkie looked equally embarrassed at failing to have given consideration to what most would list as an essential ingredient in a political uprising. “Uh, not as such,” said Dumpty.
Blue in the Face Page 14
