The Motion of Puppets(79)
“Freedom, is it?” Kay asked. Through the whirl of the dancers, she looked for No? and saw her standing alone and anxious despite the jolliness around her. “So we are free?”
Stopped by her question, the Original slowly turned to face her. She saw just how old and worn he was. Cracks along the poplar grain had deepened, and the holes on his arms and notch atop his skull where ropes had gone were dark with the grime of centuries. “We are all free,” the old doll said. “Free as destiny allows.”
“Then you will hear out my friend No??” She pointed to the forlorn figure on the other side of the room. “She is slowly going mad from this puppet life and wants her old self back. Can you grant her that freedom?”
A shadow of disappointment crossed his face, and the hinges at his neck groaned as he bowed his heavy wooden head. “Child, you mistake me for something I am not. Long ago the shamans made me who I am, just as I had the Quatre Mains make you into what you have become. You ask for a free will beyond my power to grant. The puppeteers can take her away if they please, as has been done before at times. Though I do not know what fate awaits those who are cast out. But, we are free in the night hours, free within this space—”
“That’s no freedom at all.”
Livid, she turned away and pushed aside a scowling maenad in her path, deaf to the entreaties of the ancient doll calling her back. She stormed away in long strides till the Devil caught up with her. Grabbing her by the arm, he spun her around with brute force. “What in the hell are you doing? What did you say to him? Have you lost your senses?”
“Once upon a time, I thought he was a god,” she said. “But he is nothing more than one of us. Grown old and tired by the centuries.”
“You must have respect for your elders. He’s seen things and done things that you and I can only dream of.”
“Nothing more than a puppet on a string.”
The Devil laughed at her and loosed his grip. “Come now, my dear Kay. It’s not as bad as all that. You may think this is some kind of hell, but think again of all that you have forsaken and all that you now enjoy. We have no hunger, no real thirst. Our day-to-day anxieties vanish. There is no need for heartbreak or sadness or tears. We do not tire or grow older than the age we were made. No hate, no jealousy, no crime if we so choose. All we are asked to do is what we love. To perform. To make people laugh or cry or feel the heart’s tug in the dark for an hour or two. We are immortal, eternal, and loved as long as there is an audience for our few antics.”
For the first time since her arrival, Kay wanted to slap someone in the face. “And what if we do not want to be puppets anymore?”
Time slowed, and she spun on her toes to take in the spectacle all around her. The comedy of the damned, oblivious to her exasperation, continued. She heard Olya’s deep laughter as a dissident bellowed, “Catch me if you can.” Puck tiptoed around the four lovers sleeping it off, squeezing nectar onto their drowsy eyes. Good old Nix was entertaining the children from the shoe with another from his bag of tricks. A ghost she had not seen before hovered at the staircase. Such a life was filled with novelty and fun, loud as a carnival, happy as a circus, but she could not reconcile her desires. She searched the crowd for No?, the Devil watching every move.
“She has always been a little crazy, our No?,” the Devil said. “Touched since the day she arrived. Never heard her not going on about how she cannot stand one more moment, but I ask you, who is better in a show? Don’t let the madness rub off on you. Enjoy the party, and don’t waste your time with sadness. It’s a long, cold, dark winter ahead, baby, and we don’t want you to be so blue. A little sin will do you good.”
“Get thee behind me,” she said and walked away from the Devil. She fought her way to No?, stuck alone in a corner, idly playing with the straw on her head.
“Men,” Kay said. “I had such high hopes for the Original, but he turned out to be no better than the rest of them, all talk and no action. And to think I used to adore him, back in the toy shop window in Québec. I remember passing by the Quatre Mains on my way to rehearsals each day, and there he was in all his antique glory. A wooden man trapped in a jar. My husband was jealous of him, can you imagine, but I never coveted a thing so much in all my life. He seemed alive, and I was such a fool for him.”
“Love makes such happy delusions.”
“The old man offered no way out, I’m afraid. I asked for you.”
No? sighed. “I would give anything to feel that way again.”
Kay rested her hand on No?’s shoulder. “We could try the front door. Sneak away from the party, nobody will notice, and try our luck. Just because they say it is impossible doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”
“But what about the Queen and Mr. Firkin? They’re still down below.”
“If they are in the stalls, they will not notice. And if they are guarding the door, we could always slip by the Worm in the sheepcote through the cellar door.”
With a nod of her head, No? gestured at a figure over Kay’s shoulder. “Don’t look now, but I think you have a secret admirer.”
“Never mind all that—”
“He’s staring a hole through me. I have not seen him before, have you? What’s that strange puppet supposed to be, a ghost?”