Read Consumption of the Hampires Page 4

amazing how everyone can be looking right at the preacher and participating in the conversation one second, and next, be looking everywhere but at the preacher like they didn’t even know there was a conversation going on. Twas Missy Silverspooner that caught my eye and I saw she had the devil in her. Before I could find somewhere else to be, she called me out. “Twas him what said they should go. I was there and I heard him. He said it would be a fine thing.”

  Truth was, we was all there. But Missy had called me out and I couldn’t say a thing without sounding the coward. “I aint much of muckety-muck. I can’t even read proper.”

  That was a liable on old Snotjohnson, the teacher, and he wasn’t going to stand for it. “Now truth is, you are as smart as any here, formal education being only a part of one’s learning in life. It is true you were not one of my better pupils. Notwithstanding, I say you have spent your years amongst those at the castle and must have picked up a fair bit from your association with your betters. You spoke eloquently enough Sunday before last. I nominate the groom.”

  Well, there were no way to argue with that without calling myself stupid. So kicking myself for being so silver-tongued on occasion, I had to accept when they voted me the job. I had not a fancy in my head how to find some royalty what wasn’t already employed in some kingdom or other. Weren’t like Granny Which Witch to go making up unnecessary royalty to populate her stories with. But there was always extra characters to be had around the edges. Mayhap, I thought, one or two might be willing to train up to the job. Could be they was lower sort of royalty, like ladies or gentlemen with good solid family background but not much in the way of jewels and titles and such. I knew just who to go to for advice too. She what had put the whole fool notion in my head in the first place would know more of the same for sure. Muckety-mucks is always off to parties and tea and balls with other muckety-mucks. So off I set to find the fine lady with the tight fitting red dress… she who is known as Lady Who, The Enchantress.

  The Lady Who don’t live in a cottage like the other witches, nor even a great hall like Mistress Why. She wouldn’t be caught dead in a workshop lean-to like Uncle Whatchamacallit. Even Mistress When, The Winter Witch, and her fancy moving cloud home can’t hold a candle to the castle of The Enchantress. The Enchantress fancies herself superior to even Granny Which. Her house sits in the middle of a lake so wide and deep, it might be a sea, if Granny had seas in her domain, which she don’t. The Misty Lake aint frozen, but icebergs have been spotted in it. Fog rolls off it year round, even though the weather don’t call for it and the sailing is usually clear. It’s all fantasy and fairy tales and proper settings. There’s only one goodly lake in Granny’s domain, so it’s got to work overtime. There’s a bridge to Mistress Who’s Island. But don’t you take it. It’s a trap for the unwary and guarded by all manner of legendary creatures, each which take their job more serious than the last. You could take a boat, but you’d just get turned around again and back to shore all the while you thought you was rowing for the island. Many a young lad has tried it on a dare. But The Enchantress only allows visitors when she deems. There’s a ferry, and you best get the right one or you’ll be for paying death or visiting lost lands before you know it. The Lady’s ferry has tinkly bells all over it and a great big shiny silver bell that tolls thrice for the dead sailors. The Lady’s ferry don’t so much float on the waves, as sort of hover above them. A man can only board The Enchantress’ ferry when he’s full asleep. They say it’s made of cloud stuff and dreams and will drop a man if he wakes before his arrival. I didn’t want to take no chances so brought a full meal with me to eat before taking the bit of herbs said to knock a man out. The heavy meal might do the trick if the herbs failed. When I saw the ferry approaching the dock, I laid me down on the boardwalk to sleep.

  In my dreams I heard the sloshing of water and the snorting of pigs. I awoke to find myself in a field of clover. Bells tinkled in the distance. I followed the sound to a wide porch of the kind what the southerly folks call a veranda where all manner of wind chimes clanged and rang and donged and tinkled. What had seemed a pleasant sound from the water’s edge sounded like someone had dropped the silverware into the bean pot while my head was inside from up close. I clapped my hands over my ears, but that weren’t much use. It was in this state I found myself in the Enchantress’ tea parlor. I don’t remember walking through the door, but so I must have, for there I was. A fat butler butled up and asked if sir would like a bit of something. I weren’t feeling too peckish given the fat sandwich and apple fritters I’d had before boarding the ferry, so I thanked him anyway.

  The Lady Who was delighted to see me, so she said, and gave me one of those fancy pretend kisses ladies dole out when they’re wearing lipstick and don’t want to waste it. She listened most politely while I told how the villagers wanted their royalty back, but not them. She heard our demands and conditions and nodded her head in all the right places. “I’ve just the answer for them.” She smiled and the bells ding-donged louder, making my head hurt a fair piece. “You must stay the night. You are clearly exhausted.”

  I sure didn’t want to annoy the Lady. So I let her fat maid direct me to a bed. Oh and it was a fancy one. But I could go on all day describing the wonders and fancies in that place and that aint the subject of this story. I should have slept like a babe; for the silk sheets and feather down mattress were finer than anything I had ever rested upon in my years. But all the night I heard the grunting and snorting of pigs and clanging and tinkling of bells so that my dreams were gruesome and frightening. Come morning my head ached and my stomach was in a turmoil. The Lady had her maid call me down to the breakfast table where more meat than I had ever seen was laid out. The Butler scurried about making sure the serving lads was tending proper to her guests. Then the chef came out to ensure the food was to our tastes. His face was so fat you could barely make out the beady eyes that darted about while he mopped the grease from his forehead. “All to your tastes?” He grunted.

  The Lady Who’s guests sat at the table, stuffing the food in without bothering to thank the servers or even recognize the help. Them would never have allowed such poor manners at their table. But these other royals were of a different sort, you could tell. “Allow me to introduce my breakfast companions.” The Lady said to me, like the chef wasn’t still waiting for an answer. “This is the Lady Bru and her husband.” The lady nodded at me while dabbing the corner of her mouth with a dirty hanky. Her mister waved a ham hock in my direction and went right on gobbling his food. The Lady Who just went right ahead with the introductions. “And these are their children, Flap and Willow.” Flap licked his plate clean and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Old lady Dankslice would never let nobody at her table behave like that. That was what wooden spoons was for, she’d always insisted. Rich or poor, children in old lady Dankslice’s presence knew to mind their manners. Willow gave me a look that said I wasn’t gonna get nowhere with her. If it weren’t for the Lady Who being present, I’d have give the lot up for bad breeding and went home. But The Enchantress asked me to breakfast and it would be rude not to at least sit, though truth be told, the smell of all that grease and the manners of the others was putting my appetite off a touch.

  “I was just explaining to the Lady Bru how the people of your little community are in such dire need of proper direction. Without leadership, the people are bound to be led astray by any personality who happens through. Don’t you agree?” The Lady Who touched my hand and a gong rang so loud in my head I thought my eardrums would bust. But nobody else seemed to hear it, so I didn’t think it wise to mention. “Aren’t you hungry, groomsman?”

  “Begging your pardon, Lady, but I’m a bit off my feed today.”

  “Oh that’s too bad.” Willow said, but with such a tone I knew she was happy as a cat with a mouse to play with.

  “In our kingdom, we do not dine with the help.” The lady Bru said to the Enchantress, just like it was polite to talk about folks while they was sitting right ther
e.

  “Different ways, pet. It has been most kind of the Lady to put up our little family for the time being.” Her husband could barely wheeze out, with his belt straining to hold his enormous belly in check.

  The Enchantress stroked my hand a second time and the gonging started to bounce around inside my skull bone. “Do have something to eat.”

  Not wanting to upset my host, I let the servers put some this and that on my plate. But I ate not a morsel of it. When I saw her looking my way, I put fork to mouth. As she looked away, I flung the food over my shoulder to the delight of several little piggies that had found their way out of their pen and was snuffling around the dining room.

  It seemed no matter how much I flung, or how many plates them others eat up, more food came from the kitchen. Twere the original cornucopia, and that’s the truth. This were the longest breakfast I had ever sat. They kept up the conversation, but I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if I can tell you a word that was said. The whole room seemed to be dancing around until my head like to fell into my grits and sausage. The bells gonging and