I’m drowning in a sea of blue
The fish are laughing; and the moon, too.
I simply don’t know what to do
As the color engulfs my breath.
If I had just sat upon the shore
Happy with purgatory…not wanting more
I am regretting what I did before
The color engulfed my breath.
The girl walked into the dark neon-and-black lit bar just as easily as she’d walk into her own home. She had short multi-colored hair, which was cut so her bangs would cover one eye and extend diagonally to her cheek. She had a tattoo of a club on her upper arm in purple ink and she sat down at the table and placed her guitar down next to her neatly.
“His set’s almost up,” the bartender said, “can I keep you occupied in the meantime, Case?”
“No,” she said. Her voice was a smoky blue color and her eyes matched when she looked at the patron next to her. He smiled through cigarette smoke.
“What are you smilin’ at?” she asked.
He shook his head and took a drag.
“That’s what I thought,” she said sourly. The last performer slunk off stage and so she grabbed her guitar from next to her seat and wandered to the makeshift backstage which was really a table behind a black curtain. He watched her go out of the corner of her eye and waited for her music to come on. He signaled the bartender.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” the bartender said.
He shook his head. “What’s her name?”
“Her?” the bartender indicated the girl. The man nodded and swung around in his chair to watch her step up to the board stage and tune her guitar lovingly. “Casey Defantome.”
“Hmm. Interesting name. How often does she play?”
“Every other day, except weekends. Why?”
He smiled.
“No I don’t think so,” the bartender laughed. “She’s got a thick skin no one yet has been able to get her to soften up. And besides, she’s got all the staff on her side; I wouldn’t even try it.”
The man tried to order another drink.
“I already said you’ve had too much. I’m cutting you off.” And he walked away.
The man let his cigarette burn to the end, the last bit of smoke disappearing into the haze of the bar. Casey was ready to sing and she caressed the notes out of her guitar completely forcing herself out of the room and into a realm where no one else could follow; they could only observe. Her style changed with her memories and she sang until she was hoarse. The bar emptied out naturally becoming extremely full and then petering out as those who came to hear her sing got drunk and went home.
There was no one left but herself and the stranger who had been cut off hours ago when she placed her guitar back in its case and started for the door. She had her hand on the door when she acknowledged she was being watched. She glared exasperatedly at the man.
“Look,” she said. “It’s been a rough night go home and leave me alone.”
“The hanged man is in power again.”
She paused and squinted at the stranger as if to see him in a more familiar light. “What? Are you delusional too?”
He shook his head and reached for another cigarette in his pocket. “The Queen of Clubs is usually on top of her game.”
Casey walked over to the stranger and sat down. “What the hell are you going on about?”
“You obviously know what I’m talking about or you would have left by now.”
“Fine,” she said. “How’d you know.”
“The Defantome household was murdered in a rampage of the knight of staves. It seemed to fit.”
“The Staves household is not the same as the Clubs.”
“No, but they’re your cousins. Just because they’re not the same, doesn’t mean they’re not similar. But I was looking for the queen and someone by the name of Sam suggested I come here.”
She bolted upright. “If you tortured him I swear—”
“I didn’t torture him, but he was in a sorry state when I found him.” The stranger inhaled his cigarette. “I find kindness and patience work better, believe me.”
She tilted her head sideways cynically. “What’s your name?”
“Me?” He laughed. “You don’t need to know that.”
“Fine. A title?”
“The Magician.”
“Oh, I see. Well, Mr. Magician, what do you want of me?”
“Like I said, the Hanged Man is in power again.”
“And what does this mean?”
He sighed. “Look, when you left the four kingdoms tried to take yours. The King disappeared without a trace and no one knows where he went. Sam also disappeared along with Jace. The next family down, the Staves, tried to take over the spot but only managed to secure anarchy. In the meantime, the Hearts were spreading themselves a little to thin trying to find the missing Club family.”
“What about Spades and Diamonds?”
“Equally interesting was the disappearance of the Spades—the queen was left trapped in her tower and the king was giving convoluted directions from his throne. He never left and his army just got larger and larger under his diminishing control. We didn’t really know what was happening, but we were more concerned when the Diamonds started doing the same thing. They’re a good family, but they their logic can get twisted if someone is feeding it to them.
“Finally, something broke and both the Spades and Diamonds went to war. No one is really sure over what. The Hearts leapt over into your territory and started ruling, which needless to say, caused problems with your subjects, especially the Staves. The cups tried taking over for the Hearts, but the Lovers got to them first and well, some skirmishes occurred. The Queen of Hearts skipped out of the kingdom to look for you, but it didn’t really matter—the kingdom was split. So finally, someone came in to try and patch it up.”
“The Hanged Man.”
“And the Fool. You’re job is to at least get some order in your kingdom before joining with the Hearts. When you’ve got a solid ground I have some freedom to stop the Spades and Diamonds.”
“Lovely,” she said. “And what if I don’t want to go? I would much rather have it here than there.”
He smiled through the smoke. “Strength and the Chariot have been meaning to see you. I’m sure they don’t take no for an answer.”
“You’re trying to threaten me with my two best friends?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not threatening you. But I don’t think they’d let you stay.”
She sighed. “I don’t want to end up in the mess. War is such a messy game…”
“I know,” he said. “You’ve got to get all the cards on your side or it’s not going to end well.”
“Fine, I’m coming with you.” She grabbed her guitar and waited for him to button up his coat. “Take me to Sam first.”
Robin Grapepunch. That’s one I haven’t heard in a long time. It was one of those fake names, you know. One he made up when he was six years old so that the feds would stop pestering him about his home. They stuck him in an orphanage and he stayed there until the Great War. No not that one, you know, the one against those aliens who could photosynthesize. Yeah…like the giant plant in Little Shop of Horrors. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Anyway, the war came and he was…oh…eighteen I think. So he enlisted and started training. He was a little clumsy at first, but then he started climbing the ranks; he got better and better until you could easily say he was the best there was a not lie one speck. Sure people were jealous, but he didn’t care about the fame and fortune. A real hero and vigilante. “That’s nice,” you say, but I’m serious. He was uncomfortable around girls and could start up a conversation to save his life. If you wanted gab you’d talk to his friend, Dayne. But that’s neither here nor there. If you stuck him in the cockpit where he could control the ship and feel the energy flowing through the motor, he was inseperable. He became the ship and he could think faster on his feet than it could. If anything broke down, he was there to fix it. A lot of people didn’t like him ‘cause he was so quiet, but no one could deny how much safer you felt going into a battle with him leading the crew. Even I felt a euphoria on his ship.
I hate battle. I went into service as entertainment and when things got sticky, I was drafted in. “Don’t worry,” they said, “You’ll just be a mechanic.” Pah! But I’ll never forget when after a long battle, I think it was the one at 31EG but I get them so confused now, he just sat in his chair when he thinks he’s alone and runs his hand over the buttons in thought. And a boy who’s so good at what he does and who I thought had nerves of steel, just lets himself cry. Dayne said he did that a lot, but Dayne’s good at pleasing people. I still felt bad, regardless.
His ship was the Daytona Waterfall because it was painted a bright blue and even though you thought you were going to be spotted, you’d be surprised how many people passed you up in the dark. The color was because the paint had special reflective quality that cut us out of radar from a passing ship. It couldn’t scan us; would just slip on over and not pick up a thing. That’s part of what made me feel so comfortable around him; I didn’t have to run and shoot all the time, we could just sit and be ok.
Well, I hope you find him. But it’s better to be missing in action than killed right? …Right?
He cleared his throat subtly and looked down the bridge of his nose at Devin. “Welcome to the den,” he said with a tinge of hatred. Everyone cheered and clapped from the isle. He stood up and turned to John, “I’ll talk with the you, later and bring your latest pet.”
He walked majestically, even with all his anger, into the crowd and was swept up by admiring subjects. John stood downtrodden near the chair and stared after the king. People just ignored him and a few waited patiently for him to leave his reverie. Suddenly he seemed to notice Devin and glared at him before hustling away towards the ale and food. Devin ignored me for the rest of the night, but I was content to leave the hot bustling room and hunt around the cellar. Just because Devin wouldn’t touch anything, didn’t mean I couldn’t. He was worried about something, but he was trying to hide it and probably doing a good job as well.
He slipped into the cracks of people until he reached a quiet and deserted corner. The spider webs were still intact near the floor but he was too tall to stand fully up against it, so he slid down to a crouch next to the corner under a shelf with candles. He wanted to cry, but he contented himself with curling up into a ball and going to sleep. The crowd moved around him instinctively and a few kicked him halfheartedly as they moved on to other conversations.
Eventually the room emptied out and the guests left through the secret entrance to the main part of the saloon. A few whispered hurried goodbyes as they climbed up the graying damp ladder to the shadows above. I slipped back into the room and jumped up on Devin’s knees, batting at his cheek, to wake him up. John came in and took a much rougher approach, pulling the arm nearest him and lifting Devin off the ground before releasing him to a heap on the floor.
“Get up,” he said. His voice was heavy with fear and sadness, but he hid it behind a thick wall of contempt. “The King wants to see you.”
Devin stood up quickly and walked nobly behind John and his little mouse. The cellar was quiet and dark, but John maneuvered around the shelves and once he reached a certain point, he pushed the wall hard with his shoulder. The wall gave way and became a dirty corridor blooming in light. Devin stepped in cautiously with me just behind his heels and John quickly and quietly closed the passageway behind us. He squeezed back in front of Devin and sighed.
“Come on; it’s not far.”
The passage way made two more turns before opening into a crudely built cavern. The ceiling was supported by four poles on the corner of an invisible square around another chair. Outside this perimeter were five beds and a table with a little bit of food and a wine bottle. Candles were shoved into holes in the wall and their wax dripped down onto the floor quickly as the flame danced closer and closer to the wall. The king was sitting comfortably in the chair, his legs over one arm as he leaned on the other. He and the raven were in heated conversation when we walked in, but as soon as John arrived, one of the other boys cleared his throat loudly. The king snapped his head forward and smiled.
“Ah, here he is.”
John pushed Devin forward and then stood behind him. Another boy walked over to block the passage entrance. John sucked in a bit of breath and forced himself to hold his head high.
“All right, John. What’s the deal? You know the rules—and I’m not taking another one into my court unless it’s my choice.”
“He’s excellent! You saw that gem…we’ve been trying for weeks and he did it in a couple hours. So what if he’s a bestiafama? He’s good!”
The king stood up quickly. “So what! The fact that we are and they’re not makes us royalty! The fact that we’re good and they’re not makes us royalty! It means we make the rules! We speak the law! We finally get respect! And you’re willing to throw it away?! And he’s got a preditor too,” the king jabbed a finger in my direction, “A cat?! All we’ve got is birds and mice! There’s not way we can hold ourselves up in front of the crowd.”
“Jack, please…the whole reason why you started this was to make a community. To help all those who couldn’t do it themselves.”
“We’ve got to maintain some order! If people don’t believe we’re leaders because we’re no better than them, we’ll get chaos.” He sat down bitterly, but kept his burning eyes on the two before him. “And I’ll forgive you for breaking conduct just because you have a point.”
“I’m sorry, sire,” John said bowing his head. “Just give the kid a chance.”
“Fine,” Jack said moving back to his previous position and waving away the guard at the door. “Tomorrow night you’d better be up to par because I’ve got a maggot I’ve been waiting on getting out of my way.”
There was silence before Devin realized that was his cue to answer. He bowed deeply. “I won’t disappoint you.”
It was a dark night with a blue-black sky sprinkled with porcelain stars. They reminded me of the shine off the doorknobs in the morning; just a pinpoint of light that always seems to blind you at the most inopportune times. I looked up at Devin who had climbed up the edge of building and was balancing lightly on the precipice below the roof. The golden light in the window blinked out and left all but Devin’s left black glove blending with the dark blue shadows and blotting out a single star.
He swung into the window and crept across the carpeted floor, his feet making barely audible patters in the carpeting. The drawer was a little heavier than he anticipated, but he slid it out slowly. The large ruby sat glittering in the small light on the bottom of the drawer and he expertly lifted it from its case and placed it in the sack attached to his belt. Just as silently, he replaced the drawer and snuck out the window, shimmying down the drainpipe at the corner of the building and hitting ground with a quiet pat.
He glanced up at the window and sighed. His hands fell to his sides gently and for a moment innocence returned. But just like a bucket of water was dropped on his head, he ran down the streets and through the shadows until the rich district merged to West End. He stopped at the back door of a bustling saloon and knocked four times rapidly. The door opened flooding the purple alleyway in orange light.
“What do you want?” A tall boy with milk-chocolate brown hair and freckles opened the door and leaned against it looking Devin up and down critically. His newsboy cap was tilted at a rakish angle and his shirt was half tucked into his patched gray pants. A silver mouse curled around the back of his neck and peered at me with scarlet eyes. Recognizing Devin, the boy crouched down a bit and whispered, “You got it?”
“Yeah,” Devin panted lifting up the sack and handing it to the boy. The one at the door opened the sack and dropped the fist-sized ruby into his hand. His blue eyes sparkled and he tucked it into a pocket on his belt.
“All right, come on in.”
Devin walked in cautiously and headed where the boy pointed, to a door hidden from the bustle of the kitchen behind storage shelves. The crackle of stove fires and clanking pots and pans hid the creaking door as it opened and kept the adults oblivious to the two boys slipping out of their presence.
The cellar was a dirty and cold labyrinth that the boy led Devin through to another door in the far corner of the room. The room reeked of rats and old dusty wine, but the age did not undermine its silence. The freckled boy pushed the door open and stood outside, smiling mischievously.
“Welcome to the Den of Thieves!” he said cheerfully.
Devin was more awestruck than anything. The room was not very large, about half the size of the cellar we crossed, but was lit by at least a hundred candles all behind pieces of wine bottles giving the room ghostly colors by which to maim the guests. Most were in ratty clothes and bare feet, but a few were fairly well dressed and dapper. Eyes watched Devin as he nervously and instinctively went towards the back corner where a few trays of food were lay out for the feasting.
“So who’s the new kid, John?” someone yelled from across the room.
“Devin Hasslehoff,” the freckled boy answered proudly. “He’s a bestiafama, too.”
“Yeah, we see why you like ‘im,” someone retorted bringing nervous and angry laughter into the room. Devin tried to sink farther back into the shadows.
The room smelled like dirt and smoked cheese and meat. The putrid smell of wine lingered with the wax from the burning candles. But none of these were as strong as odor of humans who hadn’t bathed, which was not surprising given the dress of these children. John made a retort back and the festivities continued with laughing and singing. Devin was nervous, but he remained in the corner, out of sight and out of mind.
“You must be a great thief to be chosen by the king’s right hand man,” a voice said softly and sweetly over the din. Devin looked up and turned an impressive shade of scarlet. The voice belonged to a very pretty girl; everything about her was dainty. Her hair was a pallid yellow like the color of fire and her eyes a water-like blue-gray. There was a little smudge of dirt against her left cheek that extended the length of her almond shaped eyes. She sat down next to Devin calmly.
“The king?” Devin managed to say. He swallowed deeply.
“King of Thieves. Isn’t that why you’re here?” She frowned slightly.
“I—”
The truth was that Devin simply wanted a place to eat and sleep. But his explanation was cut short by the silence in the room as everyone shuffled to the side of it to make an isle for the people at the door.
“Make way for the king!” a short ash-haired boy yelled from the doorway. He stood aside and tapped a large stick on the ground. John came in next and walked towards the back. The girl had gotten out of the way quickly, but Devin, not knowing what to expect, wasn’t quite quick enough. John grabbed his arm and pushed him to the side into a group of standing people. The group swayed and struggled to keep upright. Though everyone frowned and swore under his or her breath, no one made a louder noise. I slipped between people’s legs and sat on a shelf between to candles that had burned out and watched.
The boy, who came in after John, was taller and older than most of the ones in the room. He had pitch-black hair with equally dark eyes that sparkled boyishly. On his shoulder was a rather large raven with a piece red ribbon tied around its neck. It spotted me and bowed ever so slightly before swiveling its head around to catch the rest of the crowd. The boy was dressing in clean cotton with a dagger at his side and a paring knife attached to his boot. His procession took a turn to the left and he sat down in the chair waiting for him at the back of the room.
“Long live the king!” everyone shouted at he sat down. He smiled mischievously and waved his hand. Everyone sat down on the floor where they were and I noticed Devin being quick to follow suit this time.
“Well, well, well,” the boy in the chair said. Everyone relaxed a bit. “Sir John tells me there’s fresh blood tonight.” Titters filled the room. “Bring him to me.”
John reached into the crowd at the same time dirty arms pushed him up and Devin was dragged into the middle of the isle. The king smiled.
“Is he good?”
“Best I’ve found.”
I jumped down from my perch and sat beside Devin. He was looking a little pale at that moment, but still standing strong. I rubbed my head against his hand gently. The raven looked down at me but I did my best to puff up and stand proud.
The king noticed me and then snapped his head towards John. His dark eyes were panicked and he pulled John close so fast he lost balance and hit the chair hard with his other hand in an effort to keep still. He blushed and then straightened up, grabbing the ruby from his pouch and handing it to the king. The other boy frowned before the arrogant look settled in and he handed it back to John.
He cleared his throat subtly and looked down the bridge of his nose at Devin. “Welcome to the den,” he said with a tinge of hatred. Everyone cheered and clapped from the isle. He stood up and turned to John, “I’ll talk with the you, later and bring your latest pet.”
Cherry blossoms fall
Velvet petals in my hair
Quiet solitude.
The scene begins where the lights fade on to a Victorian parlor. There are windows along the wall and several velvet benches. It’s midmorning and bright outside leaving very little need for other light in the room. In the middle of the stage is a large grand piano. Seated at this piano is a well-dressed woman who is fairly young and pretty. Her hair is pulled back into a bun at the back of her head. She is dressed in a light summer dress for indoor wear. In front of the piano, somewhat left and down stage, are two well-dressed gentlemen. One is dressing in riding clothes and gloves, the other in a suit. The one in the riding clothes, John, is shorter than the other and looks considerably younger. The man in the suit, George, is tall and lean with perfect posture that makes him taller; he carries an air of superiority about him. The woman at the piano, Emily, is doing her best to ignore them.
As the scene begins, so does the music, Mozart’s Sonata in C, 2nd mvmt. George’s line comes as the first chord is played; the first three pick up notes are played in silence. The song continues with the conversation.
George: It’s a lovely day.
John: Perfect day for riding.
George: (glaring at John) If you like riding.
John: What’s wrong with it?
George: It’s not a very lady-like thing to do. A walk into town would be much more acceptable.
John: All distinguished women ride, including our lovely Queen Victoria.
George: Ah, but you miss so much of the city on the back of a horse.
John: You wouldn’t go into the city with a horse, especially two. Besides, the country is so beautiful this time of the year.
George: But the fair is in town this weekend and it would be a shame to miss it.
John: It will be there tomorrow as well.
George: And so will the country.
John: And if I let her go with you today, what then? You will make up an excuse to take her out tomorrow and the next day…
George: My dear, sir. What are you implying?
John: You know as well as I that whether she rides or walks is not the matter at hand.
George: I don’t see what you’re saying.
John: Of course you do! It’s no secret that you’ve been after Miss Parker for months!
George: And why does this concern you?
John: She deserves better!
George: I don’t see why you would wish to marry you. You’re just a common boy.
John: Common? My father owns the largest cigar factory in England.
George: (laughing) Miss Parker doesn’t want a man from a cigar factory! It’s much more prominent to own half the railroad!
John: How do you know what she wants? She couldn’t want a swine like you!
George: You’re going too far! I never made a jab and you and your unwanted patronage.
John: Don’t insult me!
George: That would be too low.
John: For a snail, maybe, but I don’t think you’re quite there.
George: I don’t care for your childish squabbling. We’re both here for Miss Parker’s hand in marriage and you’re making quite a case against yourself.
John: You as well! Making side remarks about me and pretending I’m the one out of line.
George: Well you are.
John: (steps away from George angrily and glances at Emily. She is still engrossed in the music. He places a hand gently on the piano). I still think a ride through the country would be lovely today.
George: Oh, not this again!
John: Well, if you spent a little more time thinking about what she might want—
George: Have you considered she might not want to ride through the country today? She might want to go into town.
John: With you? She’d rather swallow lye.
George: Have you asked her?
John: It’s obvious! She hasn’t answered any of your letters or responded to any of your questions.
George: We were having a lovely conversation before you came in. She hasn’t responded to you either.
John: That’s because you’re in the room.
George: If you want to believe that, you may, but it’s just as likely as fairies.
John: I don’t see why you keep harassing me.
George: I just want what’s best for her.
John: (laughs)
George: What?
John: Listen to yourself. You honestly believe that?
George: Of course.
John: That’s about as likely as fairies.
George: Well, then, fairies must be common creatures.
John: Not as common as slugs.
George: At least I have more to offer.
John: I beg to differ. She couldn’t possibly love a rich prat like you.
Emily: (at the second to last chord, the woman at the piano stops and holds the chord. She looks at the two gentlemen, indignantly and says) Personally, I wouldn’t want to marry either one of you good-for-nothing, inconsiderate hagglers!
She plays the last chord somewhat hurriedly, but lets it ring, before getting up from the piano and exiting stage right in a huff. The lights fade on her and the two very perplexed and shocked men who follow her movement but do not walk after her.
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