When the Shoe Fits...
Chapter Thirty: Highs and Lows...
Meanwhile, far away, (Well, not that far away. Not so far away that all sense of narrative probability collapses. Not that far. Just far enough away that it’s not a convenient distance to travel in a hurry on a rug, but not so far that you don’t still feel obligated to go. That far away.) on an enchanted carpet high above the ground, an argument was in full swing.
“How in the seven levels of Hell did you end up doing field ops, Tony? Tell me how!”
“How dare you! I am an agile and specially equipped agent. You cross me, you Hendrix cosplayer, and I’ll take you down.”
“Oh, will you really?”
“Yes I will!”
“I highly doubt that, Tony.”
“Highly! Highly! You being heightist now, you peacock? Come here, I’ll have you.”
“Stop it, Tony. Stop it you ballbag, you’re just embarrassing both of us.”
“I’m not the one with a feather in his hat like a Yankie Doodle wannabe, if you want to talk about embarrassing.”
“Shut up, Tony! You’re supposed to be reading the map, now where are we?”
“I... don’t know.”
“You don’t know!?”
“You distracted me with your invasive questions about my prowess as a field agent and my penchant for travel sickness.”
“Oh, by the Goddess of Cutlery! Not this again!”
“Vespers, I’m rubbish on vespers, can’t get a good grip, I’m sick from the first turn. Tricycles, I’m alright on them, if i can ride in the bucket on the back but penny farthings, they’re not even real, they make every one of my stomachs turn to jam.”
“Well, great. Please tell me more, I am truly interested.”
“Jet skis, I’m-”
“I was being sarcastic!”
“Oh. Bit rude.”
“Shut up. Thanks to you, we’re lost. Well done, Tony. We had one job, to come and rescue Naboo from whatever stupid little problem he managed to get himself into, and now, thanks to you, we’ve blown it. I can’t even give you a contemptuous slow clap because we’re moving so fast and this air is so cold that my hands have gone swollen and numb!”
“Deary me. Do you suffer from chillblains?”
“...Yes.”
“Ooh, I am sorry to hear that. My wife suffers horribly from chillblains.”
“Here we go again.”
“You know what works a treat? Friar’s balsam and iodine.”
“Oh really... Wait, really?”
“Clears it up a treat. There’s a bottle of it in my rucksack if you like.”
“Thanks, Tony, that’s very decent of you.”
“Mmm, you’re welcome. Told you I was specially equipped.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a ballsack shaped angel, congratulations. We’re still lost.”
“No pleasing some people.”
“Well, we are. So what are you going to do about it?”
“Uh, well, we’re coming up to another town, a nice pretty one too, and there’s a clock tower with a clock on it... We could ask the clock maybe?”
“Oh please!”
“It’s worth a shot.”
“Fine! We’ll ask the clock. Let’s see what the clock has to say.”
***
“Err, when you are the clock,
the real clock, with the enchanted face and the, err...
tummy that makes the tick tock
You... get to meet lots of interesting people
Like little men in turbans and, err...
Pretty boys who are kissing Magnum P.I.
But... err... none of them is as inter- inter- integer-
Super cool good
as the clock.
Not even the big king over there.
I’m the clock, the main clock...
In this story.”
***
“Well that was a complete waste of time!”
“Are you kidding me? He gave us information invaluable to the plot!”
“Unvaluable perhaps-”
“Oh, my lord! You did not just say that!”
“Ok, that wasn’t one of my best.”
“Not one of your best? That wasn’t even in the top ten!”
“Alright, alright, but how can you say that asking that clock was any more helpful than my misjudged comment?”
“With ease! Not my fault you’re too thick for field ops.”
“I’m too thick?”
“Yes! Just you wait until it hit the action, then you’ll see what a true professional looks like.”
“Yeah? Well we’re going to get to see that sooner than you expected, aren’t you Tony! Off you go!”
“Ahh! Saboo, you slag!”
***
***
Not too far away Vince and Naboo were trying to navigate the overgrown front garden when they heard a sudden thunk, like that of a large gorilla being knocked out cold by a young woman wielding a candle stick.
“Bloody useless,” Naboo muttered, carrying on through the bracken at a slightly faster pace, but Vince began to lose speed.
“What was that?”
“Exactly what it sounded like, Vince.”
“But-”
“Just keep moving, Vince!”
A loud cackle followed the sound and Vince looked back at the house in horrified fascination, his eyes drawn to the sound despite fearing what he would see.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered, stopping completely.
Anthrax emerged, dragging her mirror-booted leg and giggling hysterically and breathlessly. Her eyes were glassy and as she attempted to walk down the step Vince saw her chest heave as she began to hyperventilate, her face crumbling as she stumbled. He’d never seen her look so frightening in her life, and yet at the same time, something felt very wrong.
“Naboo?” he asked in a whisper, hoping his step-sister hadn’t spotted them. “What did she do? How did she get my boot on? It shouldn’t have fit and, well...”
Naboo sighed and took hold of Vince’s arm.
“She... she chopped off her toes, Vince. Sorry.”
Vince shook his head, not entirely sure why but unable to respond to that statement in words.
“Did the Hitcher make her?”
“I don’t think so,” Naboo said softly. “He did give her something when she came into the room though, after she’d done it. I didn’t get to see what it was. Figured it was a pain tonic.”
“He makes people do things,” Vince whispered. “He thinks pain is funny and-”
“Quick, run!”
Naboo pulled on Vince’s shirt as Anthrax looked up and saw them in the garden. She lurched toward them, a heavy candlestick swaying about in her hand, but she didn’t get far.
The crunch as she hit the gravel drive was sickening but it was the pitiful whimper that escaped her lips a moment later that made Vince turn and run, back toward the house. He’d never liked Anthrax, she’d been a bitchy, bratty little witch for as long as he’d known her and she’d made his life hell. But Vince Noir couldn’t turn his back on a creature in distress, be it mouse, dog, horse, fox or human - even a human who had treated him badly. He walked back toward the house carefully, chewing on his lip as he watched his step-sister. She wasn’t trying to get up anymore, just breathing hard and scratching at the ground, and she didn’t look up when Vince knelt down beside her.
“Anthrax?” He breathed. “What’s happened to you?”
He waited patiently for her to reply and after several deep breaths he got his answer.
“He beat us.”
“Who did?”
“Daddy.”
Vince frowned and shuffled nearer so he could hear more clearly what she was saying. As he did, Anthrax reached out and grasped his wrist, inadvertently exposing her lower back and the bruises purpling her pale skin. Vince couldn’t hide his shock and as he gasped he felt the contusions on his own back twinge in pain.
“When?”
“After he finished with you,” she replied. “He, he didn’t want us to fail again. We always fail. I’m a failure. He said he would- I never- It’s never hurt so much. And my foot was too big. Your feet are perfect. Like the rest of you. Perfect. I couldn’t fail, so I...”
“Yeah, I know,” Vince told her softly, rubbing her hand gently. “But I didn’t know you were being bullied by him too.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice turning a little sulky. “You think a person ends up this bitchy
without help?”
“Why haven’t you... run away?”
Anthrax snorted and clutched Vince’s wrist more tightly.
“Why haven’t you?”
“Actually, I just was, so...”
“Good for you. Did it work?”
Vince sighed at the biting tone. Even when she was broken and bleeding and trying to be less bitchy, she still wasn’t a particularly nice person. He opened his mouth to speak but clamped his mouth shut as he realised that a shadow had fallen across them, a shadow that made his skin crawl.
“Well, well, well,” came the gravelly voice over his shoulder, and he saw Anthrax twitch anxiously. “You should have run, boy,” the Hitcher leered, “and you girl. Well, as for you...”
Vince could feel the grin burning down on them and Anthrax looked up, a tear finally dropping from one red eye and sliding down her cheek.
“Daddy? It hurts. Please? I can’t do it. Please make it stop?”
“I dunno who you’re calling ‘daddy’, girl. I ain’t got no daughters no more. But I can certainly make it stop.”
And at that the cane came down hard against the back of her head.
Meanwhile, far away, (Well, not that far away. Not so far away that all sense of narrative probability collapses. Not that far. Just far enough away that it’s not a convenient distance to travel in a hurry on a rug, but not so far that you don’t still feel obligated to go. That far away.) on an enchanted carpet high above the ground, an argument was in full swing.
“How in the seven levels of Hell did you end up doing field ops, Tony? Tell me how!”
“How dare you! I am an agile and specially equipped agent. You cross me, you Hendrix cosplayer, and I’ll take you down.”
“Oh, will you really?”
“Yes I will!”
“I highly doubt that, Tony.”
“Highly! Highly! You being heightist now, you peacock? Come here, I’ll have you.”
“Stop it, Tony. Stop it you ballbag, you’re just embarrassing both of us.”
“I’m not the one with a feather in his hat like a Yankie Doodle wannabe, if you want to talk about embarrassing.”
“Shut up, Tony! You’re supposed to be reading the map, now where are we?”
“I... don’t know.”
“You don’t know!?”
“You distracted me with your invasive questions about my prowess as a field agent and my penchant for travel sickness.”
“Oh, by the Goddess of Cutlery! Not this again!”
“Vespers, I’m rubbish on vespers, can’t get a good grip, I’m sick from the first turn. Tricycles, I’m alright on them, if i can ride in the bucket on the back but penny farthings, they’re not even real, they make every one of my stomachs turn to jam.”
“Well, great. Please tell me more, I am truly interested.”
“Jet skis, I’m-”
“I was being sarcastic!”
“Oh. Bit rude.”
“Shut up. Thanks to you, we’re lost. Well done, Tony. We had one job, to come and rescue Naboo from whatever stupid little problem he managed to get himself into, and now, thanks to you, we’ve blown it. I can’t even give you a contemptuous slow clap because we’re moving so fast and this air is so cold that my hands have gone swollen and numb!”
“Deary me. Do you suffer from chillblains?”
“...Yes.”
“Ooh, I am sorry to hear that. My wife suffers horribly from chillblains.”
“Here we go again.”
“You know what works a treat? Friar’s balsam and iodine.”
“Oh really... Wait, really?”
“Clears it up a treat. There’s a bottle of it in my rucksack if you like.”
“Thanks, Tony, that’s very decent of you.”
“Mmm, you’re welcome. Told you I was specially equipped.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a ballsack shaped angel, congratulations. We’re still lost.”
“No pleasing some people.”
“Well, we are. So what are you going to do about it?”
“Uh, well, we’re coming up to another town, a nice pretty one too, and there’s a clock tower with a clock on it... We could ask the clock maybe?”
“Oh please!”
“It’s worth a shot.”
“Fine! We’ll ask the clock. Let’s see what the clock has to say.”
***
“Err, when you are the clock,
the real clock, with the enchanted face and the, err...
tummy that makes the tick tock
You... get to meet lots of interesting people
Like little men in turbans and, err...
Pretty boys who are kissing Magnum P.I.
But... err... none of them is as inter- inter- integer-
Super cool good
as the clock.
Not even the big king over there.
I’m the clock, the main clock...
In this story.”
***
“Well that was a complete waste of time!”
“Are you kidding me? He gave us information invaluable to the plot!”
“Unvaluable perhaps-”
“Oh, my lord! You did not just say that!”
“Ok, that wasn’t one of my best.”
“Not one of your best? That wasn’t even in the top ten!”
“Alright, alright, but how can you say that asking that clock was any more helpful than my misjudged comment?”
“With ease! Not my fault you’re too thick for field ops.”
“I’m too thick?”
“Yes! Just you wait until it hit the action, then you’ll see what a true professional looks like.”
“Yeah? Well we’re going to get to see that sooner than you expected, aren’t you Tony! Off you go!”
“Ahh! Saboo, you slag!”
***
***
Not too far away Vince and Naboo were trying to navigate the overgrown front garden when they heard a sudden thunk, like that of a large gorilla being knocked out cold by a young woman wielding a candle stick.
“Bloody useless,” Naboo muttered, carrying on through the bracken at a slightly faster pace, but Vince began to lose speed.
“What was that?”
“Exactly what it sounded like, Vince.”
“But-”
“Just keep moving, Vince!”
A loud cackle followed the sound and Vince looked back at the house in horrified fascination, his eyes drawn to the sound despite fearing what he would see.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered, stopping completely.
Anthrax emerged, dragging her mirror-booted leg and giggling hysterically and breathlessly. Her eyes were glassy and as she attempted to walk down the step Vince saw her chest heave as she began to hyperventilate, her face crumbling as she stumbled. He’d never seen her look so frightening in her life, and yet at the same time, something felt very wrong.
“Naboo?” he asked in a whisper, hoping his step-sister hadn’t spotted them. “What did she do? How did she get my boot on? It shouldn’t have fit and, well...”
Naboo sighed and took hold of Vince’s arm.
“She... she chopped off her toes, Vince. Sorry.”
Vince shook his head, not entirely sure why but unable to respond to that statement in words.
“Did the Hitcher make her?”
“I don’t think so,” Naboo said softly. “He did give her something when she came into the room though, after she’d done it. I didn’t get to see what it was. Figured it was a pain tonic.”
“He makes people do things,” Vince whispered. “He thinks pain is funny and-”
“Quick, run!”
Naboo pulled on Vince’s shirt as Anthrax looked up and saw them in the garden. She lurched toward them, a heavy candlestick swaying about in her hand, but she didn’t get far.
The crunch as she hit the gravel drive was sickening but it was the pitiful whimper that escaped her lips a moment later that made Vince turn and run, back toward the house. He’d never liked Anthrax, she’d been a bitchy, bratty little witch for as long as he’d known her and she’d made his life hell. But Vince Noir couldn’t turn his back on a creature in distress, be it mouse, dog, horse, fox or human - even a human who had treated him badly. He walked back toward the house carefully, chewing on his lip as he watched his step-sister. She wasn’t trying to get up anymore, just breathing hard and scratching at the ground, and she didn’t look up when Vince knelt down beside her.
“Anthrax?” He breathed. “What’s happened to you?”
He waited patiently for her to reply and after several deep breaths he got his answer.
“He beat us.”
“Who did?”
“Daddy.”
Vince frowned and shuffled nearer so he could hear more clearly what she was saying. As he did, Anthrax reached out and grasped his wrist, inadvertently exposing her lower back and the bruises purpling her pale skin. Vince couldn’t hide his shock and as he gasped he felt the contusions on his own back twinge in pain.
“When?”
“After he finished with you,” she replied. “He, he didn’t want us to fail again. We always fail. I’m a failure. He said he would- I never- It’s never hurt so much. And my foot was too big. Your feet are perfect. Like the rest of you. Perfect. I couldn’t fail, so I...”
“Yeah, I know,” Vince told her softly, rubbing her hand gently. “But I didn’t know you were being bullied by him too.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice turning a little sulky. “You think a person ends up this bitchy
without help?”
“Why haven’t you... run away?”
Anthrax snorted and clutched Vince’s wrist more tightly.
“Why haven’t you?”
“Actually, I just was, so...”
“Good for you. Did it work?”
Vince sighed at the biting tone. Even when she was broken and bleeding and trying to be less bitchy, she still wasn’t a particularly nice person. He opened his mouth to speak but clamped his mouth shut as he realised that a shadow had fallen across them, a shadow that made his skin crawl.
“Well, well, well,” came the gravelly voice over his shoulder, and he saw Anthrax twitch anxiously. “You should have run, boy,” the Hitcher leered, “and you girl. Well, as for you...”
Vince could feel the grin burning down on them and Anthrax looked up, a tear finally dropping from one red eye and sliding down her cheek.
“Daddy? It hurts. Please? I can’t do it. Please make it stop?”
“I dunno who you’re calling ‘daddy’, girl. I ain’t got no daughters no more. But I can certainly make it stop.”
And at that the cane came down hard against the back of her head.