ChapterTwo
The King of Jokes
After we had finally reached the end of our eternity at sea, we began our journey by train. We could bear it, though it was quite crammed. We were all miserable, but I have to say, Henry might have won the award for exercising his misery the best.
Throughout our time on the train, we laughed and talked and complained and told each other our fears. At night I sung softly under my breath, a song that Mother and Father used to sing, one about being called back by the river.
Felix whined about the food, one day, and tossed a handful of chips onto my lap. “Look at these scraps,” he mumbled.
“Ew, Felix, don’t,” I shoved them off onto the floor.
Claudia scurried as far as she could away from me, shrieking like a cat. “Don’t you know what grease could do to my clothes?” she cried. “How disdainful.”
I didn’t really care, just then. Nor did Felix.
“That’s all America is—grease,” he said bitterly with a careless wave of his hand. He took a seat across from us and avoided our gazes, something he did when he was displeased but wanted someone to console him. He very unsubtly released a sigh, and it took so long to finish, I actually worried for a second.
“What is it, now?” I willed him to look at me and luckily, my will was a strong one.
“No one knows how to make fish and chips around here,” he said mournfully.
“We’re not in England anymore.”
“Really, Annabelle? Thank you for enlightening me.”
“You’re not supposed to call me that.”
“Well, Father isn’t here,” he shot back at me, as if I didn’t know. “I’ll call you what I want.”
“I should hope your manners wouldn’t wear off, simply because we’re not where Father’s gaze is upon us.”
“We’re so far away,” Claudia said wistfully.
Felix did not seem to hear. He sat upright and whistled a tune; I guess to distract himself from his grief.
After a few moments of unnatural quietness I couldn’t help but worry Henry was somewhere on his own, perhaps getting into things he shouldn’t. He was not like Felix, loud and mischievous, and often uncontrollable. Instead, he was often quiet, curious, deep in thought, and he had gifts no one ever seemed to notice, except for me. At least I didn’t think anyone else noticed. Henry had always been one to run off and discover little forgotten places to hide that no one else knew existed.
Later in my life, I never really knew how or why he did it. I supposed he was that way because—that was how he was. He was Henry.
Suddenly, as I thought those things about him, there he was, bustling through the door. He slid it shut and joined Felix, across from me and Claudia. He didn’t look quite as gloomy as Felix had, at least visibly. But I knew something was bothering him.
I did know it.
I always did.
“Where were you?” I asked, though I knew he wouldn’t tell me.
“Nowhere, of course. And there’s literally nowhere to go, in this cramped moving contraption.”
“A locomotive,” Claudia corrected, importantly.
Henry scowled. “I’ll call it what I want. Now, shut your eyes and close your mouth like a stupid little girl ought to do.”
Claudia blinked back tears and turned her face to the window, breathing on the glass.
True, it was a sad thing, but to be completely honest—just between you and I—almost every time, she asked for it. Simply asked for it. Sometimes she even begged for it. Perhaps she just wanted a bit of attention, even if it was bad attention. Even if Henry would scold her. Because that’s really the only time he spoke to little Claudia. When he scolded her.
I made a mistake by breaking the silence. I should have left it alone.
“Father’s been to America, before,” was all I said.
“I know,” Henry said dimly.
“Well…he thinks such a time will help us. And we’ll be alright, won’t we? He even says it might strengthen our—”
“You don’t have to pretend to be Father!” my brother fired at me, his words spewing from his lips like sparks. He made a frustrated grunting sound and crossed his arms. His eyes looked everywhere around the room; just not at me. Anywhere but me.
Felix and Claudia looked down timidly, each biting their lip or picking at their nails.
One might wonder what goes on inside Henry Phoenix’s mind, except for the obvious. Our brother was hurt, they knew that bit. And not just because of Mother. We guessed he was hurt by Father’s rash decision to send us off, just like that. Leaving home was not simple. It was hard and took all of our strength.
As hours drew on like pages of a book in the wind, we talked about most anything, or we just said absolutely nothing and stared straight forward. Inside us all was a world, always moving and thinking and dreaming.
Felix reminded us that Aunt Victoria warned us about the ‘wild ones.’ The ones who tortured snakes and played with alligators. She said she had read about it in the papers and had done her research to prepare us for our journey. “Stay away from the wild ones,” she had said over and over again. But truthfully, I wanted to meet the ones she called wild.
“I’m scared of such evil,” Claudia confided in her most injured tone. “It’s wicked there. Heathens run loose and unbound.”
“Oh, stop with the dramatics and you,” Henry snapped. “That’s just Aunt Vicky talk. She was trying to scare you. Or she really believes it herself. Anyway, I knew better than that.”
“Really?” Felix challenged.
“He always does,” I admitted. And it was true, always. I admired him in more ways than one, though, if I told him so, he would never believe me. But I would always be there for my brother as he once was for me.
“Thank you, Ingrid, for once again taking sides with Henry.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“Well, you don’t have to live to please everyone!” he fired at me and I looked at my brother, taken aback. He wasn’t upset, but he was irritated. It was just a passing storm that would wash away. All of my siblings were a bit stormy, even myself.
“I don’t,” I said, softly.
Felix crossed his arms across his chest and huffed. Then he slumped and his foot kicked Claudia’s.
“Get off, Felix!” she wailed.
Felix rolled his eyes so far back I feared they may get stuck that way and I’d have to fetch a pair of gloves and pry them back to how they were.
After a dull moment passed between us, Felix sat up and said chipperly, “This land we’re going to, how do you say it? Miss-ii-sip-ie?”
“It’s an eee, not an ie.”
“Thank you, Ingrid.”
“You’re welcome, Felix.”
This will be continued on Tuesday!
Look out if you have been enjoying Chapter Two, The King of Jokes!
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