“We’ll stop to say goodbye to Penny and Mary, right?”
Kleft’s expression turned grim. “I can understand why you’d want to, but I’m afraid that isn’t a wise idea. Women of that sort often object to a sinister man in black taking away their children. They’d beg you to stay, and you might stay, and then you’d be right back to being a burden upon them.”
“But I have to at least thank them.”
“What kind of thanks should you give them? Considerate, loving thanks of the sort I’m proposing, or selfish, mean-spirited thanks? You’ve driven them to the Poor House. Do you want to drive them to the grave?”
“No. I want to be good to them. But what about my friend Jamison? He’s dying, and would want to see me before I leave and he expires.”
“A true friend would contact the sisters and tell them that I’m taking you away, and then where would we be?”
“I guess you’re right.”
Kleft grinned. “Come with me, then.”
“All right. I will.”
“You will have a grand adventure, I promise.” He took Nathan’s hand and led him out of the cell. “By the way, I hope you’re not afraid of spiders.”
THIRTEEN
As they left the police station, Professor Kleft handed Officer Danbury a small leather pouch that jingled. Nathan thought that it must be a wonderful thing to have so many coins to spare, and couldn’t wait to send lots of them to Penny and Mary. They’d be so happy!
A black coach waited outside. It had two horses to pull it, and in the driver’s seat sat a man with flesh so tight that he almost looked like a skeleton. The man gazed at Nathan, appearing as if he might snarl.
“May I pet the horses?” Nathan asked Kleft.
“You may not. This is your new life. You must learn to let go of such childish frivolities as affection. Get in.”
Nathan felt an aura of dread emanating from inside the coach, as if he might pull back the cover and have eight corpses tumble out. He hesitated.
“Go on,” said Kleft, tapping at the cover with the end of his cane. “There’s nothing to fear in there. A boy without courage is like a bat without rabies.”
Nathan pulled back the cover and was very pleased by his good fortune when not a single corpse fell out. He climbed inside the coach, which had a soft, shiny cushion upon which to sit. Kleft climbed in after him and sat across from him.
“Are you excited?” asked Kleft as the driver cracked his whip and the coach began to move.
“Yes, sir. I’ve never been this close to a horse before.”
“You know what our ancestors said about horses, don’t you?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, it was nothing good.” Kleft picked up an oversized book from the seat, rested it on his lap, then opened it to a spot about halfway through. “I write about all of my adventures in this book, which will join the thirteen similar books I have already filled. For what use are thrilling adventures if you don’t allow others to live vicariously through them? Therefore, I will ask that you remain silent as I write, for concentration is a difficult commodity to obtain in a life as busy as mine.”
He took out a pencil and began to write in his book. Nathan had a million questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to pester his savior, so he settled for sitting there silently and trying not to fidget too much.
It was not a short journey. They rode all day. When the horses grew too tired to continue, Kleft joked that they should shoot them and purchase new horses. At least Nathan thought he was joking. The driver explained that he didn’t know any place in the area to purchase new horses, and Kleft looked somewhat annoyed by this, and went into an angry rant about how horses should wait on humans and not vice-versa, but still, Nathan was relatively certain that he’d been joking about shooting them.
As darkness crept over the land, they pulled off to the side of the road and the driver built a small fire, which he used to warm up some stew. It was better than the meals Nathan had eaten in jail, but not as good as what he’d enjoyed with the sisters.
“Where are we headed?” Nathan asked.
“I’ve already told you. To travel the earth.”
“But do we have stops in mind along the way?”
Kleft scooped up a particularly large spoonful of stew, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. He swallowed, dabbed at his mouth with a cloth napkin, cleared his throat, and then ate another large spoonful of stew. When he’d finished that and dabbed at his mouth again, he spoke. “It seems strange to me that a boy who was not, to the best of my knowledge, made responsible for driving the horses seems so concerned about the destination toward which those horses are supposed to be headed.”
“But I’m going with them.”
“Yes.”
“So that’s my destination as well.”
“Is it?”
Nathan had never used foul language in his life, and he’d certainly never expected to find himself using it in the presence of a grown-up, yet it spilled forth from his mouth before he realized what he was saying: “What the hell are you talking about?”
Nathan cringed, expecting Kleft’s response to involve a slap delivered with such force that half of Nathan’s face popped off on impact, but instead Kleft ate another spoonful of stew. “Sharp teeth and sharp tongue, eh? Your time as a convict has taught you to curse like a sailor. I’ll ask that you keep such filth-ridden obscenity inside your own head from now on, for it burns the ears of my driver. See how he sweats?”
There comes a time in the life of most little boys when they leave the world of childhood behind and become a grown-up. For some boys, this happens quickly, as when four-year-old Edwin Malley saw his pet monkey hang itself. For some little boys, this takes a long time, as when fifty-three year-old Duane Whipton was struck on the back of the head with a shovel by his mother to accelerate the process of his going out to get a job.
As Nathan sat there, eating stew, he realized that Kleft most likely did not have his best interests in mind, and might very well be criminally insane. He couldn’t let Kleft think that he was some weak-willed child who would let himself be taken somewhere unknown, probably to be eaten.
He looked the professor straight in the eye and said the worst word he knew, one that began with D and rhymed with “ham.”
“I hope,” said Kleft, “that you are referring to a barrier used to obstruct the flow of water.”
“I was not.” Nathan suddenly felt very nervous. Had he gone too far?
“Had I known you were such a vulgar lad, I’d have brought along a bar of soap for you to choke upon. Listen to me carefully, young one. Your audience wishes to see flesh-crawling horror! Mind-scarring terror! Gasp-inducing shocks! But they do not want to hear a pre-pubescent boy utter expletives best suited to a dogcatcher!”
“Do dogcatchers curse a lot?”
“Even more than plumbers.”
“I want to know where we’re going,” said Nathan. “And I want to know what I’ll be doing there.”
“Shall I harm him?” asked the driver.
Kleft shook his head. “Information is power. Clearly this boy has already learned that life lesson. Very well, Nathan. We are traveling two days south of here to meet up with the other members of Professor Kleft’s Parade of the Macabre. You will show off your beautiful fangs to spectators who will pay me a half-coin each to gape in horror at your ghastly visage.”
“I don’t want to do that,” said Nathan.
“Of course you don’t. Thus the control of information. But what are you going to do now? Walk home?”
“I might.”
“If you try to leave, my driver will shoot you in the back. Then I will have to console him through his grief over murdering a child. You will ruin his life. Another selfish act on your part.”