Merlin & The Mad #5

MERLIN & THE MAD #5

By

Michael A. Wolf

 

 

            Harrison Cilo’s bungalow sat at the top of a hill in the trendy Walker Grove section of the city.  Merlin piloted his car through the arch…wait.  You don’t want to hear this right now.  You’re more interested in The Mad and his date, yes?  Very well.

            They met at the Bristol Oak Pub at Kaye’s suggestion.  The Hatter had been there a few times before and was greeted with smiles by those who knew him.  He removed his top hat as he walked with Kaye to a table near the large front window.  The lights of the city mingled with the neon signs and multi-colored stage bulbs that illuminated the interior of the British-themed space.  They sat and Kaye removed her jacket.

            “You have hair.” She joked.  Or perhaps she didn’t really know.  Oh, of course she was jesting.  Be serious.

            “In the presence of a lady, one must doff his chapeau.”  He said, smiling.

            “You didn’t doff when we met at the corral.” She said.

            “Didn’t I though?  Bad Mad.  Bad indeed.”  He took her hand in his.  “Allow me to make it up to you by asking why we are here sharing a meal.”

            “I want you to know that I appreciate oddity.”  Kaye said.  She continued to hold his hand.  “I think it speaks to character when a man isn’t afraid to be himself; no matter how…eccentric.”  She squeezed his fingers lightly. 

            “You’ve been here before.” He said.

            “The pub?”

            “Yes…and no.”  He let go of her, sat back and remained fixed on her eyes.  “There are ravens in Bristol Wood.”  He said.

            “Writing desks all.” Kaye said.  “And yes, I have been here before.  You’ve seen me?”

            “Once, on a horse.”

            And so it went for the next three and one-quarter hours.  They talked of many things; of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages, but not kings.  Kaye told The Hatter of her Uncle’s distress since the loss of his wife, and how he swore that the home they’d shared was now haunted by a vengeful spirit.  They discussed what Merlin and The Mad would do to investigate and perhaps purge said ghostly tenant, if it existed.  She asked The Mad very little about himself; a few questions which he answered as obliquely as possible.  They laughed quite a bit and dined on British fare, which seemed to appeal to them both.  The Hatter never ventured into any territory more personal than her full name.

            “Kaye-Anne Finnabair.” She said and extended her hand as if for the first time.

            “And don’t you want to know who I am?” The Mad asked.  “That question comes up a lot.  My true and complete name.”

            “I already know it.” She said.  “I’ve known since I watched you walk away from the corral.”

            “Then could you kindly tell me?” He asked, his smile suddenly gone.

 

                                                                        *

 

            Harrison Cilo’s bungalow sat at the top of a hill in the trendy Walker Grove section of the city.  Merlin piloted his car through the arch of the complex and parked in the area Mr. Cilo had instructed on the phone.  It was a nice housing tract, with the feeling of a tiny, self-sufficient town nestled within the city.  The wizard scanned the building numbers until he spotted Cilo’s and started to walk toward it.  That’s when a shot rang out and Merlin fell to the ground.

 

 

                                                                        *

 

            The Mad, still sans top hat, escorted Kaye to her car and shook her hand politely as she turned toward him.

            “As did I.” He answered before she could speak.

            “I had a wonderful time, you backward man.” She said, but not first.  “A question, if I might?”

            “Indeed.” The Mad said.

            “Would you like to be best friends for life?”  And she smiled wide, a glistening of tears in her eyes.

            “This is as silent as I get.” The Hatter said, taken aback; which was a rare state for the vaunted loony.  “And…yes.”  He kissed her hand.

            Kaye continued smiling and still cried, but she climbed into her car, started it and lowered the window.  “How many top hats do you own?”

            “Three.” The Mad said.  “One for inside; one for outside…”

            “And one for inside-out.” Kaye finished and drove away.

            The Hatter stood, quietly (obviously better at being silent than even he imagined) and watched her car disappear into city traffic.  He popped the topper on his head and tapped it twice.  A smile crossed his lips followed by a single tear that ran his cheek.

            “Like a bullet to the heart.” He said.  Then, as if snapped from reverie, “Merlin!” 

 

 

                                                                        *