pickup on mean street - 9. the woogle woman

by bofa xesjum

part nine of 16

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the hut of the woogle woman was further down the road than her new allies had indicated, and full night had fallen before the princess came to it. the hut was back from the road and down an incline and almost hidden by the overhanging branches of a great tree, and the princess might havre passed it if a light had not suddenly appeared in its one small window just as she approached it. was the woogle woman expecting her? the princess made her way carefully down the incline and approached the hut. she could not make out a door in the hut but one suddenly opened as she reached it. the woogle woman had seen her, at least, even if she had not been expecting her. but the greatest surprise was yet to come. a figure stood in the door of the hut. the princess recognized her! it was one of her old tutors, mademoiselle duval, whom she thought must have perished in the most recent apocalyptic chaos, as she had been turned out of the castle doors by the king and queen as a result of some dreadful scandal the exact nature the innocent young princess had only dimly understood. so madamoiselle duval was the woogle woman! the princess was now more curious than ever to learn exactly what a woogle woman was. good heavens, sophonisba, madamoiselle cried. what a surprise to see you here, under these distressing circumstances. and how you have grown! you are quite a grown up young lady! but, please, come in, as the night is growing quite chilly. sophonisba, for that was indeed the princess’s most commonly used name (she had a dozen), entered the hut and mademoiselle duval closed the door behind them. the hut was only slightly warmer than the road and woods outside. a single candle stood on a single table and shed an uncertain light on the interior. the only other items of furniture were two hard looking wooden chairs. a small kettle stood on a tripod in the corner, but was not in use. a tiny fireplace, barely visible, was also unlit. straw, by no means the cleanest, covered a dirt floor. sophonisba noticed that mademoiselle was wearing what appeared to be several layers of clothing, with a thick shawl over her shoiuders. she thought this did not bode well for the prospect of even a small fire. mademoiselle duval directed sophonisba to take one of the hard chairs, and sat down in the other herself. well, sophonisba, the erstwhile tutor began, you must have had some stirring adventures to have arrived here like this. you must tell me all about them. oh no, mademoiselle, the princess replied. i am sure the stories you have to tell would put mine to shame. you must tell me yours first. well, as you are the guest, i will humor your wishes. just sit back and relax and i will regale you with my sad tale. thank you. sophonisba was by no means a blushing violet and added, i could relax a bit more if i had something to abet my thirst, which is somewhat considerable after my long walk to get here. oh, cried mademiselle duval, what was i thinking! i am being a terrible hostess! she quickly produced a bottle and two small cups from the folds of her voluminous skirt and placed them on the little table. next

pickup on mean street - 8. the princess and the pea

by bofa xesjum

part eight of 16

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once upon a time a great war ravaged the kingdom of a—————. hunger, disbanded soldiers, and demons escaped from hell and wandered the countryside. also wandering wandering the countryside was a beautiful young princess, whose castle had been sacked and burned by one of the passing armies. the king, the queen, her sisters, and her little dog had all perished or been lost in the confusion, but she had hopes of finding the little dog, at least. the princess had not eaten since finding a few pine cones by the roadside a few days earlier, and she was hungry. she hoped to find a sorcerer or a good witch or a genie who would grant her some wishes, or at least a few more pine cones or some grass to chew on. she came to a crossroads. there had been a sign there indicating the various directions that could be taken but it had been stolen or torn down. the princess took one of the roads as they were all the same. darkness began to fall. a mile down the road she encountered a pirate, an ogre, and a dwarf, standing around, and tending to, a small fire. a small pot was suspended above the fire, but no fragrant odors, or any kind of odors , emanated from it. the princess wondered if the ill-assorted trio might wish to chop her up and put her in the pot. instead the dwarf, who had a round red face, addressed her in a cheery manner, as if he did not have a care in the world. look here , he said to the princess, we are attempting to make some pea soup, but so far all our efforts have been thwarted. perhaps you can help out? how might i do that? the princess replied politely. we need some peas, the pirate growled, or at least a pea, the ogre added in a sad solemn tone. i am sorry but i do not happen to have any peas on my person, the princess answered. ah, but you might still be able to help us out, the dwarf told her. i am at your service, the princess said, provided that i get to share in the pea soup if and when it is produced. of course, the ogre said, what do you take us for? very well, then, how may i assist you? there is an old woogle woman living in a hut down the road, the dwarf said. we believe she has some peas, but we have not been able to persuade her to part with even one. or to admit that she has any, the pirate added. we thought you might have better luck, the ogre said, being somewhat younger and more personable than ourselves. that is all very well and i appreciate the compliment and your confidence in me, the princess replied. but , tell me, what exactly is a woogle woman? is she something like a witch? she is the opposite of a foogle woman, the dwarf said. she is neither a fox nor a hen, said the ogre, if you get my drift. this is all very well, said the pirate, but the only thing that need concern us is that she might have some peas, or at least one pea, with which we might make some soup. so are you game? i do not see that i have anything to lose, said the princess. in what direction is her hut? next

pickup on mean street - 7. refresh your memory

by bofa xesjum

part seven of 16

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dear cleo - cleo began reading - i am your aunt amelia, and i am asking you - but perhaps i should first refresh your memory as to exactly who and what i am and what my relationship with yourself is. my name is amelia flyte, and i was born many years ago in the little village of b—————. in the great empire of z—————. the village of b———————, small as it was, was one of the country retreats of the emperor, babar xvii, who was at that time at the height of his belovedness throughout his great empire, which was itself at the apex of its power, although the signs of its inevitable decay and crumbling would soon appear. babar xvii was in the advanced stages of his long dotage. as a small child, frolicking with my favorite governess in the green fields beside the bubbling brooks of the placid and secluded (and heavily guarded) village, naturally i knew nothing of this. what did I know? I knew that life was good, that my papa was brave and my mama was beautiful, that all the men in my family were brave and that most of them were handsome, that most of the women in my family were beautiful, and that even those, like the old, that were not, were kind. i knew that our servants were all kind and good and faithful. and that all the dogs and horses on the estate were faithful, although some of the horses were a bit high spirited and had to be kept in line by our faithful grooms. i knew that all the men in the family might be called to battle at any time, but that none of them would be killed and all would return victorious and covered with glory. i knew that good pastor k——————, who preached in the family chapel on sunday morning, was the kindest man in the world, though sometimes the subject of good natured fun because of his forgetfulness. i knew that someday i would grow up and get married, but that that would not happen for a million years. and that someday i would die, but not for a million times a million years. i especially loved my english governess, miss mansfield, who was young for a governess - looking back, i realize she was barely out of her teens - and quite pretty, and who told me or read to me endless stories, many of them quite violent and probably considered “unsuitable” for children today. the stories amused me greatly, and seemed to have no connection with my own real life. i never suffered from nightmares. miss mansfield was telling me a story when news arrived from the village that the old emperor had died. next

pickup on mean street - 6. the letter

by bofa xesjum

part six of 16

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gabriel! michael exclaimed. cleo seemed amused at michael’s reaction. it’s not that uncommon a name, she told him over her shoulder. i had a brother named gabriel. really? cleo laughed. i do not think this little fellow was your brother. he was the most hideous human i have ever seen - ugly hideous, not scary hideous. that’s he! michael exclaimed. it must be he! he stood up. which way did he go? he asked cleo. well, i didn’t watch him go. i suppose he took the elevator or went down the stairs, and out into the street. cleo mock shuddered. i certainly hope he is not lurking about. i have to go after him, michael said firmly. he started for the door. go with him, cleo ordered adolf, who had been watching and listening silently, but alertly. with the mildest of grimaces, he got up from his comfortable chair. yes, michael told adolf, you go down one end of the street, i will go down the other. very well, adolf murmured. he was closer to the door than michael, and approached it. look here, adolf said. this must have been left by our mysterious visitor. the letter that gabriel had slipped under the door was plainly visible on the floor, now that someone had approached it. adolf picked it up. it was not in an envelope, but was folded in thirds. adolf walked over to the divan where cleo was seated and handed it to her. michael waited by the door. without opening the letter, cleo nodded toward the door. adolf returned to the door and opened it , and gestured to michael to exit before him. but michael did not leave. instead he asked cleo, aren’t you going to read it? if you wish. cleo unfolded the letter and read it, but not aloud. what does it say? michael asked impatiently. adolf waited beside him, holding the door open. do you really want me to read it? cleo finally asked. yes, of course i want you to, michael replied. next

pickup on mean street - 5. gabriel

by bofa xesjum

part five of 16

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' gabriel knocked on the door. he had aunt amelia’s letter of introduction in his pocket. the door was opened by a tall raven-haired woman in a low cut white dress. she looked down at gabriel. who the blazes are you? she asked. are you cleo? or annie? never mind who i am. who are you? i am gabriel, and if you are cleo or annie i am your cousin. you are an ugly little critter. the ugliest i have ever seen. you poison the air with your ugliness. i am sorry you feel that way, gabriel said. but i have a letter from aunt amelia. get lost, ugly little critter. the woman closed the door in gabriel’s face. but, gabriel said to the closed door, i think you might be interested in what aunt amelia has to say. the door did not open. and, gabriel continued, i have nowhere to go if you do not admit me. i spent my last penny getting here from the sinking island of san francisco, and i have nowhere to go. the door remained closed. gabriel hesitated, then knocked on it again. after a few seconds, the darkhaired woman opened the door again. get lost, little man. i won’t tell you again. i am calling security and you don’t want to be here when they arrive. she shut the door in gabriel’s face. gabriel ttook aunt amelia’s letter out of his pocket. he took the letter out of its envelope and slipped it under the door. then he turned and, since he never trusted elevators, quickly ran down the four flights of stairs. to the street. the street was dark. It felt like it might start to rain. gabriel did not see any sign of the “security” he had been threatened with, but he began walking quickly. back in the direction of the bus station. even though he had no money to buy a ticket anywhere. he had no idea where to go, or what to do. * who was that? alexander asked cleo. he did not look up from the heavy tome - on pre-atlantean tomb architecture - that he held on his lap. some pathetic bum. the ugliest little flapjack i ever saw. i sent him on his way. you don’t see so many bums these days, cappy said. “especially knocking on the door. i wonder how he got through security, bronko said. cleo shrugged, and resumed her seat on the divan facing the glowing fireplace. they don’t get much business these days, you can understand if they get a little careless. but I say, bronko continued. that is no excuse. we pay these fellows for service, after all. did the fellow, the fellow at the door, i mean, want anything in particular? some nonsense about a letter from aunt amelia. your aunt amelia? alexander asked. isn’t she dead? she was the last i heard. cleo replied languidly. michael spoke from the depths of his armchair for the first time. he spoke of aunt amelia? did he give his own name? i think he said it was - gabriel. gabriel! michael esclaimed. reader, let us set the scene a bit belatedly. we are in the apartment of cleo, a stylish young woman. alexander, bronko, and cappy are paying court to her because she is the kind of woman men pay court to, like moths around a flame. michael, cleo’s cousin, is also present. he is the handsomest man in the world, though far from the richest, and so far from wishing to pay court to any woman, is weary of their attentions, which he likens to the buzzing of flies around roadkill. adolf, cleo’s flunky, rounds out the little party, which small as it is, more than fills the little apartment. next

pickup on mean street - 4. in the shadows

by bofa xesjum

part four of 16

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ali sat in the shadow of the warehouse and watched as the bus pulled out onto the road. were the magician and the man in the brown hat still on it? she did not know. she had not seen them get off, but they might have in the time she had taken to hop down the street to the warehouse. if the magician had been on the bus, going who knew where, how, she wondered, would she ever get back to being a human and not a rabbit. and, even worse, that left her with no way to recover the envelope which had been entrusted tp her. did she dare go back to the station? perhaps in the confusion of her being changed into a rabbit, the envelope had fallen on the floor of the station and was still sitting there. she decided to risk it. what choice did she have? the town seemed to be closing down. it seemed darker than when she had first escaped from the magician’s pocket and the station. the station itself did not seem as brightly lit. there was only one bus left in a dock. even as ali watched, the last bus pulled out, and lights were turned out in the station itself. then the station went completely dark. and a few minutes after that a man wearing a bright green baseball cap - the ticket seller? - came out a side door and began walking briskly away in the opposite direction from the warehouse. it was now or never! ali hopped back to the station. could she get back into it? the front door was a revolving door. she pushed against it, still in her rabbit body, and was able to slowly squeeze her way into it. whew! that was the hard part. she looked around. a tiny light was on behind the ticket counter, so faint she had not been able to see it from outside. she saw a gleam of white under one of the benches. the white thing under the bench was a piece of paper. there was writing on the paper. ali wondered if she would be able to read it with her rabbit brain, but her fears proved to be misplaced. the writing said - take this paper to aunt amelia and good things will happen to you. when you take it to her, do not forget to wear a nice hat because aunt amelia likes nice hats. ali sighed inwardly. this was not very helpful. in the first place, who might aunt amelia be? and where might she be found? even if this problem were solved, how was ali to reach her in her rabbit body? and how was she to carry the piece of paper? in her mouth? thousands of miles to alaska or china or egypt? and all this about a nice hat? a nice hat by whose definition? and could ali get the nice hat on her rabbit head? next

pickup on mean street - 3. on the bus

by bofa xesjum

part three of 16

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the bus sat outside the terminal, waiting to pull out on to the rain slicked highway ali had been duly turned into a rabbit, and was resting more or less comfortably in the pocket of the magician, who was seated by the window in the furthest seat back in the bus the bus was almost full. the magician had placed a large trunk on the seat beside himself thus preventing anyone else from sitting beside him ali was able to poke her rabbit head out of the magician’s pocket and peer out the window. the rain continued to fall, and the lights in the mist on the other side of the street had a soothing glow. the driver closed the door of the bus. then just as it appeared the bus was about to pull out, the driver opened the door again. a man got on the bus. he was one of the biggest men ali had ever seen. he had a big brown hat on his head and the hat was wet because it was raining. the big man in the brown hat strode purposefully down the aisle of the bus and confronted the magician. what are you trying to pull, manny? he demanded. you can not just run out on the syndicate like that. and what is that rabbit doing in your pocket? there is some misunderstanding here, the magician retorted acidly. my name is not manny, it is omar, and i must say i do not care for your attitude. you better cone along with me, manny. the big guy is in no mood for your childish nonsense. the other passengers on the bus were starting to get restless. driver, can we get this show on the road? somebody throw both these bums off the bus, and their rabbit with them. * with a weary sigh, the bus driver got up and walked down the aisle to the back of the bus to see what the commotion was about. the big man with the brown hat turned around and saw the bus driver approaching him. chester! the bus driver exclaimed. i did not expect to see you here, of all people. it looks you got me, billy, the man in the brown hat replied sheepishly. i guess i do, the driver said. you would not happen to have that sawbuck you have owed me for lo these many years, would you? no, man, i am afraid i do not. you are going to have to give me a little more time on that. fair enough, billy replied with another weary sigh. meanwhile would you mind getting off my bus so i can get these good people to their appointed destinations? all right, billy, if you say so. do we have to listen to this all night, a woman of ample girth with a blue flower in her hair, occupying the seat across from manny the magician, demanded. i for one have to get to cincinnati by ten o’clock tomorrow morning to peddle my wares, and i am incensed by this totally needless delay. you see what i have to deal with, billy addressed chester. be a good fellow and get off the bus and make the whole world smile, all right. all right, billy, i will make some people happy and do as you say . and i will get back to you with a tenner, i promise, as soon as it is reasonably feasible. as he started back up the aisle, chester turned and glared balefully at manny. i’m not through with you, my man. do not think that for one minute. move it! another voice from the depths of the bus shouted. let’s go! a rather empty boast, manny sneered at chester. chester jostled against the lady going to cincinnati with the blue flower in her hair, and she shoved him away and he landed across the aisle in the lap of a young woman with thick glasses reading a copy of pearl buck’s the good earth, and more hooting and laughter flowed through the bus. ali saw her chance. she jumped out of manny’s pocket and scurried under the seats up to the front of the bus and exited through chester’s legs when billy opened the door of the bus to let chester out. the cool night air gave her a well-needed shot of adrenalin and she hopped down the street into the shadows of an abandoned warehouse. free! but after a moment of exultation, despair overwhelmed her. she was a rabbit! how could she get to the good place if she was a rabbit! and then another thought hammered her poor brain. the envelope! what had become of the envelope? next