The Ant Returns - Prologue (743 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: The_Ant
Rating: 1.73 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2005-01-28 14:48:29 EST
THE ANT RETURNS
==Prologue: A Fireside Tale==
"He had but one eye and the pocket of prejudice runs in favor of two."
-Charles Dickens
Bayham Street, Camden Town 1822
The Captain had been drinking again, and as happened when he indulged his senses were somewhat muted, as if he were standing in a thick fog. Any memory of leaving the local was beyond his grasp. He remembered stumbling on an up-thrust cobble, after which his memories placed him here, in his creaking wooden chair by a fire he could not recall stoking.
There was a boy before him. Perhaps this pallid, frail apparition before him was John's boy, come to borrow something-or-other for his father.
The Captain scratched his beard with a long yellow fingernail. Careful, he thought, be cautious. The lad before you could also be one of the thieving urchins that seemed to teem in the back streets and narrow closes.
The Captain sat as straight as he could manage, and peered at the boy with his one good eye.
"How old are you, boy?"
"Sir, I-
"I asked your age and expect an answer, boy! Speak up and be quick about it!"
"Ten years old, Captain Stout, Sir!"
The Captain thought on this a moment. This youth certainly bore a striking resemblance to John's son, but he had been almost sure the boy in question had been younger. "Ten years. Ten years?"
The lad fidgeted, uneasy. "Yes, Sir. I am small for my age. What I lack in body I more than make up for with my mind though, Captain Sir."
Captain Stout studied the boy in silence.
He knew that the lad could be made uneasy under the cold white glare of his dead left eye. He knew also that this wee one could, on occasion, promote himself in such a way that the Captain could only respond with affectionate laughter.
Sometimes the Captain saw himself in the boy. At that age he too had been under-developed, but where John's youngster was clearly becoming the bookish sort, always reading and working the muscle of his mind, the Captain had pushed himself in the opposite direction, building brawn and learning how to muster men.
"What do you want of me, lad?"
The boy looked at his shoes. "Kind Sir, on my previous visit you said you would tell me a story when I returned with some time to spare. I have that time now Captain, and I would most appreciate a tale of your travels."
He's a clever little inveigler, Stout thought. "You want to hear of forgotten voyages and far off lands and fantastic deeds?"
"Oh yes, very much, sir!"
The boy was eager now, positively hungry for a story. Indeed, the Captain could recall a time long ago when he was about this boy's age, a time before he lost his eye in a crowded street in London, when he too enjoyed tales of adventure and stories of exploration, be it the discovery of new lands or unlocking the secrets of human potential. When he lost his eye he lost that sense of wonder, using the bitterness within him to fuel his quest to become an officer in the Royal Navy, his disability be damned.
Well, he may have become a nasty old sod, but he sensed something special about this boy. Behind the façade of morose frailty was something else. A mind that absorbed all and held it for some hidden purpose. What that purpose might be the Captain could not say. Whatever, he felt that the boy would one day grow into a man who could put all that absorbed information into some wonderful endeavor. And if a few tales of the Captain's own youth could spur the boy in that direction, perhaps he too could contribute a little to that not-yet-come greatness.
"Have a seat then, young lad."
The boy instantly darted to the one free chair in the small room. The candle inside the glowing lamp flickered a moment and then settled.
"Right, then," the Captain said. "I shall tell you a story of my youth, of a time when I traveled the Continent. My father was in the service of a Minister in the Foreign Office, and we saw many wondrous things, he and I, but the most wonderful time of all was in France, during the Revolution."
"You were in France at that time?" the boy squeaked, excitement making his voice break. "During the people's rebellion?"
"Oh, indeed I was, little man, indeed I was. And the story I shall tell will amaze you, and fill you with wonder. Could such things have happened? Why are they not in the written histories? Is any of it true? Your mind will reel with the questions, young one, but believe me, all I tell you will be the truth, as I witnessed these things with my own eyes!"
The boy was silent now, spellbound. He was looking up at the Captain with awe. Stout saw the wondrous expression on the youngster's face and paused. It had been a very long time, years upon years, since he had felt as... important, yes that was the word, as important as he did now. He could have mulled on that, and ruined the moment, but instead he too became lost in it, thinking that perhaps this was going to be an equitable trade after all.
"Now laddie, listen closely. I shall tell you of a King and of two most uncommon men. The King was Louis of course, who due to his inability to stand firm had his head brutally chopped off by the gleaming, wicked blade of the guillotine! This act more than any other set France on the road to near-ruination!
"And it was during the years of strife which followed that the two commoners made their appearance on the stage, and of them I know little. One was a Frenchman of some nobility who had spoken out in favor of more compassion and support for the lower class among his peers, and was sentenced to die as the King ultimately would, under that bloody great blade. Those few individuals who were running the political machine did not want the rich and entitled in charge, yet neither did they want to hand over control of the country to uneducated farmers.
"As for the other man, ahh, here is the mystery, and the wonder. This man could have been the nobleman's brother; they were so alike in face and body, and this I saw. He spoke French and English, but he often spoke them as if he had just learned them yesterday, which is impossible, as we both know. I learned later that his stranger would often be confused by the most childish colloquialisms, and he was said to be as helpless as a spastic when it came to simple tasks, from loading a flintlock to putting bridle and saddle on a horse. For reasons never explained he was steadfast in his determination to see that no harm came to the nobleman, and indeed, he was willing to give his very life to achieve his goal.
"I watched with my own eyes agog as this most alien stranger stood before a raging mob, taking the nobleman's place upon the bascule of the French killing machine and willingly placing his neck in the lunette to be held fast under that heavy, razor-sharp blade. The blade dropped, and the stranger survived!"
"You're telling fairy tales now, Captain," the boy said with a laugh.
"No lies, young one," the Captain said, very grave. "I saw it, my boy. I saw the blade bounce from this man's neck and watched in awe as he broke free of the restraints holding him fast and scattered the crowds, only to disappear in a few blindingly quick leaps and bounds."
The boy did not object a second time. He listened, rapt, as the Captain continued the tale.
"Let me tell you of this most unusual man..."
User Reviews
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-08-03 11:51:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Supreme Overlord damage control...
Submitted by Supreme_Overlord (user info) at 2005-07-21 22:23:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shite
Submitted by Mitchapalooza (user info) at 2005-02-16 04:11:13 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
yawn.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-02-08 14:04:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2005-02-04 13:32:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Going forward.
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-02-02 22:54:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
very good tale spinning.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-02-02 22:28:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Whoops, almost rated this a -2. Boy, would my face have been red.
I really like your writing style. This prologue flowed way better than your previous Ant stories.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-01-30 07:11:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jaineix (user info) at 2005-01-29 15:54:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Falconer (user info) at 2005-01-29 05:25:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2005-01-29 05:07:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-28 19:45:08 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-01-28 19:25:33 (#)
Ranking: 2
Why is this series getting no attention?
--
It's a vast left-wing conspiracy!
Goddamn right it is!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-28 19:45:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-01-28 19:25:33 (#)
Ranking: 2
Why is this series getting no attention?
--
It's a vast left-wing conspiracy!
Oh well. If my Mac cooperates tomorrow, you'll all get to see Rob and Schroedecker (I wish I had chosen a shorter name for him sometimes) again.
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-01-28 19:25:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Why is this series getting no attention?
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-01-28 19:03:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
what the hell man, they come at you etc etc etc...
Submitted by iamhewhoisnot (user info) at 2005-01-28 17:29:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
this has been one of my favorite series
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-28 17:00:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-01-28 16:19:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
36 hits is insufficient, back to the MRR
--
"I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection . . ."
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-01-28 16:19:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
36 hits is insufficient, back to the MRR
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-01-28 15:43:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-01-28 15:13:36 (#)
Ranking: 2
Nothing I can say here would do this justice. You have a true gift for weaving a tale.
will you have my babies?
--
And as you will see, there isn't any poo or pee in this one either! At least I don't think there is.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-01-28 15:40:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-01-28 15:13:36 (#)
Ranking: 2
Nothing I can say here would do this justice. You have a true gift for weaving a tale.
will you have my babies?
um... strike the babies part. nicely done.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-01-28 15:13:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nothing I can say here would do this justice. You have a true gift for weaving a tale.
will you have my babies?
Submitted by ess-arr (user info) at 2005-01-28 14:57:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
colloquialisms
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my favorite word!
+2 btw