BTW - A Fair Trade

Part II

A Fair Trade

Blodwen Role Play Community

Blodwen Wonderland

<< Part I >>

The caravan appeared before Midnight King and Snow Queen on the Christmas Eve. The stone floor of the throne room was fully occupied by colors, toys and people in costumes. A tuxedoed Pierrot wearing a half mask with a tear-drop under his painted droopy right eye was giving royal maids flowers. A chubby fairy with stained glass wings and an ape-man in a silver knight armor were bringing a large music box off the caravan. A pirate armed with wooden sword and rainbow-colored gun was helping Snow White and her seven little dwarfs spread candies to red uniformed soldiers. An old man in Eastern clothe and his little marionette girl were playing a card trick to please the Queen while a group of four black-haired Eastern dancers, some of them looked androgynous, furnished themselves with plain silk white dresses were surrounding the King. It was like they were charming and teasing him at the same time. Everything was as mirthful as it was.

“For you,” the old puppet master said and handed the puppet to Snow Queen. The four dancers suddenly left the King alone then rushed back to the caravan to bring out four dolls. A lady doll, a soldier doll and traditional Eastern bride and groom dolls decorated with real gemstones were then brought, by beautiful guys and girls on their knees, in front of the King and the Queen. “All for you,” the old man once again said humbly.

“Say uncle. From whom I happily received these wonderful gifts?” asked Snow Queen. Her joyful smile was replaced by a soft scream when the twin tailed puppet in her hands magically spoke.

“From Master, Your Majesty.”

The King, everyone wondered if he was just playing along, asked the puppet. “Who is this generous Master? I’d like to know the name. Is he the elder over there?”

“The elder isn’t Master.” The doll hesitated. “He told us to keep his identity a secret.”

The King raised his eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because the only thing he wants in return is your accepting the gifts, Your Majesty.”

The King looked at the doll for a brief moment then he nodded in acceptance. He didn’t say a word but his expression showed a hint of gratitude. The Queen holding the King’s arm said to the doll. “I’d be grateful if you say ‘thank you’ for us.”

Elena, the lady in waiting in her golden gown, was standing beside the Queen, not showing any interest than she had to. Elena was sure this was the caravan whom she was entertained by yesterday at the marketplace. She remembered the old puppet master whose skill and tender voice she adored. She was sure that these actors and actresses were the people who, she had seen, had been tending horses and knitting like farmers and a mere housewife. But, look at them today! They were shining and full of spirit.

And who’s the Master? She didn’t see any Master yesterday. The puppet master seemed to be the head of the families. She tried to recall the picture of the families she met on the street. But when they were all dressing in fancy clothes, she couldn’t be so sure.

Not far away from the throne, a royal babysitter was holding the little Princess Luna. The baby, hadn’t yet realized what was going on in the throne hall, was watching the strange crews interestedly. Elena watched as the Pierrot was tiptoeing towards the Princess with a red daisy and a knitted rag doll. She was suspicious so she, lifting the hem of her bustle dress, left the Queen’s side to see what he’d do. But the golden haired Pierrot seemed to mean no harm. He gave a perfect soldier-like formal bow, knelt down then waved the flower and the doll in front of the Princess.

Hello, Rag Doll, said Daisy.

You shouldn’t get your hope up,

because the Princess will choose me,

I’m beautiful and you are a mess,

Look at those cheap button eyes,

You can’t get the best of me

even you changed your dress!

The Little Rag Doll cries and cries,

But the tears won’t run down

because she hasn’t no real eyes.

What will you pick, my little lady?

What will you keep as a friend?

The ugly doll that will last.

Or the flower that will soon die.

Princess Luna reached the doll by her fat little hands. Of course, she was still a baby so she didn’t understand the poem he had read to her. But the Pierrot praised her anyway. “Smart choice.” He smiled, too, when granted by Princess Luna a naive laugh.

The Pierrot get up on his feet. He bent forward to whisper into the royal nanny’s ear. Elena didn’t hear what he said to her but she knew by a brush travelling fast across the babysitter’s cheeks that he flirted with her. He kissed the red daisy then tucked it into the royal nanny’s hair. The woman, old enough to be his mommy, giggled.

Elena coughed. The Pierrot turned over. His green eyes behind the clown half-mask widened. He had cleaned up or been cleaned up smartly. The mustache and the stubble were gone. And he didn’t bring the hawk today.

Elena tapped the fan she had been holding on her palm while watching him head to toe. The tuxedo was nothing fancy but to think that this very man was pretending to be a clown, she had to force her smile back to remain solemn. But she failed completely. She couldn’t help express a knowing smile which made the Pierrot put his finger to his lips signaling her to keep to herself. Another order. Elena didn’t have second thoughts about dropping him an overly respectful curtsey. “Good afternoon, milord.”

Everybody in the throne room noticed her greeting. People, including the King and the Queen, turned their way.

“Elena. Do you know him?” Snow Queen asked.

Elena looked at the man in front of her. The Pierrot met her eyes. He held up both hands, shook his head slowly, dramatically, still pretending to be the clown he wore. He moved his lips but didn’t release the voice, ‘no…. no…you don’t know me.’

Elena had the better answer. She smirked. “Yes, Your Majesty. Standing here is Sir Friday, the generalissimo of the South. The one who wrote the princess the poem.”

Snow Queen was impressed. The Queen also remembered the lovely poem which the South brought among elegant gifts. She demanded him to come closer. The Pierrot was now left no choices other than showing his true face, General Stanley Friday, the Chimera of yellow sapphire ring. He took his mask off. Without beard, he looked a lot younger than some of the teenage boys around here. But, the ring spoke for her possessor, no one could ever count how many human beings he had removed from existence.

The General gave a bow again then told the Queen he was on a vacation break. As usual, like when she had seen him among lords and ladies in the South, he smiled but didn’t really talk or try to pretend that he was at least homey. It was his usual manners against the people he wasn’t acquainted with. He only gave a real smile when he traded jokes with King of the South or Vermillion Queen. But she had never seen him get nervous. Right now, he hold the half-mask in his hand, poking his thumb in and out the eye hole. She reckoned he was embarrassed because everyone was looking at him. Everyone knew that he had acted as the Pierrot who had been entertaining the Princess and maids. And everyone would definitely remember that. She wondered what he was thinking. Killing everybody to erase today from history?

Or killing her for being unruly.

She was brought back to reality when the puppet master and the dancers performed another show. The man whom she had thought would kill her was now facing her with his arms across his chest. He wasn’t wearing the mask anymore and his eyes were accusing.

Elena dropped again a curtsey. “My apology. I can’t lie to my Queen, can I?”

Instead of getting angry, the General said, “I collect toys. These men are toy makers, toy doctor, puppet master and clocksmith. I pay. They make toys. Some for sale. Some for me.” As if he was trying to give an explanation for today’s event.

Elena nodded. “Hobby.”

“I brought something for you, too.”

That really raised an eyebrow. “A toy?”

“Better than all of these.” He tilted his head to the toy wagon. “The best of my collections.”

“Where is it?”

“Santa Claus.”

“What?”

He tapped his chin. “It isn’t a gift.”

Elena scowled. “I told you the old man doesn’t exist.”

The General protested. “He must be here somewhere in the wood.”

“There is nothing in the wood except wolves and deadmen. There are neither toys nor joy at the burial ground.”

“I know. I’ve been there.”

She looked at him questioningly. Everything this man said led her to think he was crazy. He corrected his own words. “I went there. Many years ago.”

The General tapped his chin again, considering the idea Elena didn’t want to know.

Finally, he said. “Cemetery sounds cool.”

*******

Elena put on a short cashmere black cape which kept her warm by its light brown fur trim. She pulled the hood over her head then tied the ribbon around her chin. The waiting maid was riding on a white horse’s back, waiting for her companion to put his things together. General was still keeping his tuxedo on for he didn’t have time to change. To fight the cold, he added a thick dark-brown overcoat. He attached his bag to his red horse, Sid Tiger. The red-tailed hawk resting on the roof of a toy wagon pecked at a dead leaf on his top hat.

He knitted his brows at the broad-winged. “Drop it, Rufus. Take a walk.” The bird croaked angrily as if he were saying ‘I’m trying to clean you up! Oh, whatever.’ then jumped away. One of the she-he dancers carried a blood red box came out of the wagon. He passed the box to General, performed a feminine bow then went back to help his friends pack.

“Are they leaving?” Elena asked the Master. He nodded. “They are going west.”

“Are you not going to leave with them?”

“I’m not always with them.” He tied the box to the red horse then climb up on board. The puppet master came to hand a rose to him, a dark crimson one. He tucked it into his coat’s chest pocket. “Shall we go, milady?”

She kicked the horse and hit the road. He followed. Although, he had been to the graveyard, it was many years ago. The wood might haven’t changed but the town had, a lot, so he said, he couldn’t remember how to go there anymore. If she led the way, they’d have the deal. Elena didn’t have a keen interest to go to the graveyard but she wanted to see inside the ruby-colored box which intrigued her a little. General’s best toy. Which seemed to be actually a toy. The box wasn’t so big. It was about the size fit to keep a human head.

He told her, en route, the reason why he had ever gone to the graveyard hidden in the freezing wood. A woman, the better half of his departed master - General Harvey, was buried there. General Harvey was murdered for the killer had lost to the power of the yellow sapphire ring. ‘Southern-styled politics,’ he snorted.

Harvey’ beloved wife, Ann, became severely mentally ill. Doctors couldn’t fix her. No one could. Only Harvey knew the magic. Some started to spread the rumor that she was possessed by a widow ghost so he brought her here to live with a cousin in the North. He stayed here with Ann for a month. Several years later, he came back when he couldn’t anymore see her alive. To bury Ann whom, Death, a smallpox, had claimed.

The Sun began to set before it started to snow. The horse passed all the icy road to the graveyard. The burial site was concealed from human eyes by a stonewall and a great amount of pine trees. They got down the horsebacks and resumed the journey to the grave on foot.

Inside the gate, there was not a sound of warmth nor a view of light. The shadow of the night fell on the land of the lost as the darkness guzzled the sky from the very end of the North. Not everyone was buried here because it was so far from community that it would heavily bear upon the frequency of visitation. The ones buried here were either, people who didn’t have much to spend or people who didn’t expect even a visit from the ones he’d ever loved.

But, look. Look at his face.

The General swept the snow off the tombstone by bare hands. He then drew out the crimson rose, get on his knee and placed it on the grave of Ann. He stared at the tombstone mournfully as if he could see her face on the still surface. He didn’t say a word but his eyes said ‘I’m sorry.’ With only Elena beside him, he didn’t have to pretend that he was a good man, so this couldn’t be an act. He did care for Ann and he grieved over her death - his loss.

“Do you love her?” Elena asked.

“Yes, Harvey and Ann, they are my family.” He looked up. "They taught me how to write, how to read, how to sleep, how to eat and how to be needed again."

Elena wandered around the other grave, hugging herself more tightly as the snow was pouring down. "Then you should have been with her when she needed you the most."

"I couldn't. Something must be done."

"I reckon you mean the revenge."

He stood up. "Legally. Someone had to enforce the laws."

"I heard murderers in your country don’t have to suffer any punishment at all."

"Well, milady,” He smiled, “We ain’t no savages. We have rules.”

“Which I heard, only to protect animals.”

The General laughed releasing a cloud of white breathe. Looking straight into her eyes, he explained. “We have laws which allow every action that could ever be done to human beings. Deeds and misdeeds. We have laws which everyone had to obey. To dread. By law, I put a hole in his forehead at a bar then cut off his hand right there among drunkards, gamblers and prostitutes. Still, it wasn’t much a noteworthy incident. They could use his blood to clean the floor.”

“That’s awful.” Elena murmured.

“Me?”

“It must be wiser not to say who exactly,” She bowed pretendingly when answered.

He chuckled. “Oh no… You need not fear me, milady. For I will not hurt you and I’m carrying with me no weapons.”

She looked at his overcoat amusedly. “You aren’t armed?”

“I’m kidding. I have two guns and one dagger,” He broadened his smile. “But being with you, they’re nothing but good-luck charms.”

Elena fought the urge to roll eyes. “Well, I’m impressed by your humor, milord.”

He laughed softly then headed toward the horses. A moment later he turned his head back to see her. “If you please, take my words not as a lie. I don’t kill people when I don’t have to. I shouldn’t have killed for Harvey who taught me not to. I learned my lesson.”

Being busy lifting her dress off the snow-covered path, she didn’t look at him nor take his words seriously. Even God couldn’t know when this man would crack a joke. “What did you learn, then?”

He lifted his right hand in front of him and playfully made a posture like a lady watching her ring. “I was given the ring.”

“The General’s ring?”

“Yes,” the General put his hand down then resumed his walk. He said - whispered - quietly as if he didn’t intend to share with her.

“It was like being married. Married to that filthy land.”

Finally, they reached the horses. The General pulled out a small umbrella from his bag. It was a lovely black frill umbrella. No doubt, a lady umbrella. Elena chuckled. “Is that yours?”

He scowled. “No, it’s not mine. The elder gave it to me, saying rain will arrive after the snowfall passes.” He gave it to her. “Use it. Snow’s falling harder. We still have a long way going back.”

“What about you? I’ll be fine because I wear hood. You should use it.”

“No. I have my hat.” He firmly refused to use the frill umbrella.

“Milord, you cannot tolerate the cold.” She teased. Because she knew he was too proud to use a lady’s umbrella. “Come on, no one will know. Only me.” But Stanley ended the argument by putting it into her hand, somewhat annoyedly, then escape to the horseback. He looked away, pretending to observe the sky.

“How about we don’t go back tonight?” She asked.

“What?” He watched the sky to the ground. “You want to sleep in the graveyard?”

“Follow me,” She drew her horse and began her plod toward the stonewall, “I know where we can wait for the bad climate to pass by.”

**** To be continued. ****

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