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The youngest Pardoe could feel that he had this crowd eating out of his hand as well as drinking out of his pocket. And they got the nerve to fly a Malaguan flag over their so called shrine& the one showing a flying snake or some kind of dragon. Who knows what it is& hell, it s probably just one of their heathen idols. Drink up boys...hey bartender...make sure everybody s glass is full, and when we re done drinkin & we ll go down there and run off them foreigners, open up that road, and burn that shrine. What do you say, boys? As the bar patrons cheered lustily, the bartender pulled a large box out from behind the bar and began distributing the contents. The greasy-haired barkeep gave Franklin a yellow smile as he pulled blackjacks, brass knuckles, and sawed off baseball bats from the well-worn box, until everybody had a weapon. Franklin took a spring-loaded blackjack just for appearances, for he had no idea of how to use it. But once he saw the crowd was ready, he yelled, Come on boys, let s go down there and teach em a lesson! Just a minute! Everyone turned to see the local preacher, Reverend Ernest Rocktower, emerge from the bathroom. What in heaven s name do you fellas reckon on doing? Everyone was flabbergasted at the appearance of the Reverend Ernie, who had been ensconced in a stall of the men s for the entire preceding episode. The Reverend looked about the room, shook his head sadly back and forth and said, There isn t anyone going anywhere& Moans of disappointment and disbelief began to emanate from the crowd, until the Parson continued, Until I ve blessed the undertaking! Everyone cheered; the preacher grabbed a set of brass knuckles, and mumbled a few words and ended his prayer with this exhortation, Let s put the fear of the true God into them, instead of that Whore of Babylon they worship. Everyone cheered in general affirmation. They streamed out the door of the American Legion Post and marched the quarter mile up the road to the site of the encampment. They were stopped at the police lines, but a sympathetic sergeant let them pass, saying how he was tired of having his hands tied and that he was glad that some of the more upright citizens were going to clean up the mess. The situation appeared ideal for their purposes. As the Legionnaires crept closer to the camp, they observed the unwelcome foreigners taking part in a great celebration. A gigantic bonfire burned in the center of the encampment, and all the pilgrims were busy feasting, dancing to the music of the mariachi band, and making merry the ideal conditions for a sneak attack. Chapter 0 Continued Thresher Pub Where time is irrelevant The Chicken s Tale This is a very good beer. The chicken poured the last of the stout into its mug and placed the empty shark bottle deliberately at the far side of the bar, indicating it was time for another. Mr. Malloy, methinks your customer wants himself another brew. Captain Teach was fascinated with the storyteller, and had sat in rapt attention through the chicken s account. He observed and took notice of every minute aspect of the feathered being s comportment, demeanor, and manner as the tale was spun. The listener heard the story and read the body language as he sized up this entity. Barkeep! Put this one on my tab. Thanks, said the chicken flatly. You re certainly welcome Mister& er what did ye say your name was? I didn t, the bird spoke sharply. A chicken s got to have some secrets. The bartender made a mark on the chalkboard beneath the letters E.T., I say, Captain, he is a plucky fellow& you are a he aren t you? Right now I m not one hundred percent sure. The bird shrugged. I m just glad to be here, so call me what you will. You seem like a lad to me. The captain tugged at his black whiskers. But, now, I haven t taken a proper look yet. He started reaching towards the chicken s tail. Don t even think about it, sailor! The chicken turned its posterior from the seaman. I m not exactly sure I want too good of a description of what s back there. Bartender, hurry up with the drink for old what s its name, said Teach, as jolly as a biker Santa. That ought to calm him or her or it down. Wilbur Malloy obliged the captain and once the chicken s whistle was re-wetted, it continued, I know it sounds fantastic to be talking about aliens that can transfer their living soul from body to body, but I guaran-damn-tee you I m telling the truth. Aye...has the ring of truth to me. When you ve been traveling the Nexus as long as I have, you get used to fantastic things. The captain pulled a clay pipe with a long curved stem from the inside of his seacoat, packed it with some kind of weed, and struck a sulfur match on the bar. I usually try to stay away from things not of me own time, but these lucifers be right handy. The captain puffed several times, and once the bowl was lit, inhaled deeply, held the smoke for as long as he could hold his breath, then exhaled the pungent smoke in the chicken s direction. That switching bodies trick& that could be downright useful in my line of work. And might I ask your line of work, sir...I mean, Captain... Call me Teach, Edward Teach...though some knows me as Edward Drummond. And there s seven Mrs. Teaches and six Mrs. Drummonds, said Captain Blackbeard as he motioned to Wilbur for a stout of his own. That s what drove me up the Delaware Bay, the outer banks off Hatteras is too full of wives. He paused to draw again on the pipe. And me line of work is trade. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |