*
The August morning was hot, humid and ominously overcast, an ideal time not to visit crumbling, tourist jammed old castles. The dreaded moment when Abelard would be introduced to internal combustion technology was but a few moments off. He had been awed by the unpredictable ringing of the telephone, kept away from the television and was still not reconciled with electric lighting. Felicity worried greatly that he would become apoplectic when strapped into his seat and then propelled at speeds unknown to the medieval brain.
In his present emaciated condition Abelard scarcely filled the hand-me-downs from Oliver. The shoulder seams fell about where his biceps would have been and the sleeves could only be managed if rolled halfway up. The pants were held up with a belt from Felicity, his childish waist useless as a support. The shoes were stuffed with cloth to keep his feet from sloshing about.
Abelard scrutinized his image in the full length entrance hall mirror and grimaced at his emaciated face and wasted body. The zipper was a source of great curiosity. He operated it at various speeds, pinched his finger once, drawing blood but no complaint, and jammed it finally on the clothe, from which he was unable to work it free. There was no risk that he would apply too much force and so break it, since his strength was no greater than a child’s. This led to the awkward situation where Felicity began to fiddle with the mechanism, eliciting at once a look of surprise and delicious expectation.
Then they were congregated about her mystic blue automobile cum farm cart, which Abelard supposed was to be hitched to as yet unseen draft horses. Felicity coughed loudly in a crude endeavour to mask the familiar electronic keyless entry beep, but could do nothing about the flashing light signal or the multiple clicks as the doors unlocked. This last noise, coming from an empty wagon did cause Abelard to recoil and defensively raise his arms.
“He wants to wait for the horses before getting in,” Felicity translated Abelard’s haughty grunts for Oliver. Not willing to use force they had little choice but to rely on subterfuge. Felicity shuffled over to where the evil twins were busy looking busy as they spied on their suspicious tenants. From a distance Oliver could make out that some paper had changed hands just before the proto humans headed for the barn. They soon came out, leading two large draft horses, and headed towards the car. There was much activity with harnesses and hooks as the horses were ostensibly prepared to pull the car. When all seemed in order Abelard took his place in the front passenger seat and after seeing Felicity strap herself in permitted Oliver to do the same for him. He was momentarily alarmed when Felicity locked all the doors, but that quickly passed, until she put the car in reverse and noisily backed away from the two horses, and very hastily lurched forward and down the long dirt drive towards the main road.
Felicity was not worried that Abelard might break the window as he smashed it repeatedly. He was far too feeble to do any damage but to himself. His blows were no harder than those an infant might land. Her concern was that he would break his still fragile body. “Do something right now. Are you blind? You’re a doctor. For fuck’s sake, stop him, now,” her incitements growing louder by the moment, as was her foot becoming heavier on the accelerator.
“Best slow down a bit,” Oliver said as calmly as he could manage, “if his heart doesn’t give out from sheer terror, these ‘G’ forces might do him in. Oh, and if we can manage to talk normally,” he added, trying to be heard over Felicity’s panic-stricken imprecations to do something, “that would be quite helpful. So,” he continued, with only a barely perceptible hint of impatience, “have you ever done the castle tour?”
The matter of fact backseat drone, while Abelard was now frantically twisting to free himself from his belt with one hand and, with the other, protecting himself from a seemingly inevitable collision, instantly silenced Felicity. Her eyes, in the rearview mirror, were huge with astonishment. But only for a moment. The adjustment was impressively fast.
“No,” she sang, looking for that just right reassuring tone. “I’ve always meant to do so but each time, after throwing up at the thought of mingling with all the gawking amateurs, I reconsidered,” she twittered through an abnormally broad smile.
This artificial exchange only exacerbated the situation. Abelard was now ever more determined to escape, for the first time grasping that his captors were deranged. He resumed pounding his fists against the door and window, being understandably unfamiliar with door handles and locks. This was too much. Felicity slowed and came to a stop on the shoulder.
She waited for Abelard to notice that they were no longer moving and to stop his struggle with the seat belt. She said a few words to him, at the same time moving her arms in wide circles and, each time another vehicle passed, she pointed to it. Very soon, Abelard broke into a laugh, surprisingly hearty for his still frail state.
“Well done,” Oliver clapped, “I suppose you explained to him the mysteries of internal combustion technology and he accepted it all just like that?”
“Not quite. It was a bit more nuanced. Rather more like creative. I told him that this cart operated on the trebuchet principle. He now believes that under the hood is a large wheel, tightly wound with a long rope, which is quickly unwinding to propel us forward. He is greatly impressed with this technology. And he is no longer concerned. Shall we proceed?”
“He believed you?” Oliver asked, incredulously.
“Don’t be so smug,” Felicity shot back, her tone tinged with impatience. “Have you never explained to a child that her dead pet had gone on a long journey or was perhaps in heaven with its mom? I guess not. You likely just slapped her around with strong doses of reality. Well, our friend’s knowledge base is temporarily even smaller than a child’s, so please spare him any feelings of superiority you may have suddenly acquired.”
“Alright, back off, this is all new to me.” He hung his head in shame, sighing like a wounded lover. Although he tried his best to not tinker with Felicity’s emotions he did sometimes give in to the temptation to go after a little sympathy and much apology.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry and mea culpa, mea culpa. I will stop being so touchy. OK? But, I should warn you, we may have a bit of a problem when we get to the castle. I’ve promised to let him look at the magical mechanism.”
Oliver smiled to signal the peace and Abelard stopped glaring at him. Felicity pulled back onto the road and the immediate crisis was over. She amused herself for a few minutes at Abelard’s expense, raising and lowering his window to watch him recoil each time the air rushed in to envelope his head. Like a child, having been shown the button, he didn’t stop playing until they reached their destination.
*