Shakespeare for Squirrels: A Novel (Fool #3)(56)
The brown and white squirrels that were Moth and Peaseblossom were already away into the trees. Cobweb ran up a tree and perched on a limb high above us.
“We should be off, Bottom. Gather up those robes if you would. What of you, Gritch?”
The goblin looked back at his friend. “I will bury Talos and then flee the sun. We will be at the duke’s wedding tonight.”
“We?”
“Many goblins.”
“Find us at the head of the trail, north of the city, then, as soon after dark as you can get there.”
The goblin nodded. “What about the three words? The fairy said you know the Puck’s three words. Puck said he would tell us.”
“I thought they were ‘do piss off.’”
“No,” said Bottom. “That was just the fairies having you on before letting you in the harem.”
To Gritch, “Sorry, mate, I haven’t the slightest. But once I find out you’ll be the first to know.”
Gritch nodded as his skin began to smoke by the dawn’s early light. He turned and ran away, scooping up his dead friend’s body as he went and throwing it over his shoulder.
“I’ll bet the lads are wondering why I haven’t been to rehearsal,” said Bottom.
Chapter 16
Preview in the Forest
We had been walking for hours, the red squirrel bounding through the trees above us all the way, chattering down at us if we dared to stop to rest or have a wee.
“So, if the goblin didn’t kill that young Athenian, who do you think it was?” asked Bottom.
He was munching a handful of clover as he went and I let him. As I had not had the heart to tell him I had secured no remedy for his donkey form, I could not deprive him of that small green pleasure.
“Blacktooth and Burke were quickly on the spot, weren’t they? Perhaps they decided to do their own killing and take the reward this time. Although my blood was high with the frolic when I gave chase, and I think if it had been a mortal I would have caught him, or at least caught a glimpse of him.”
“Could be. A silver armlet like the goblin had would fetch enough in Athens to buy a small farm. I’ve no idea the value in goblin coin.”
“The goblins don’t give a tick’s willy what you can buy with silver,” said I. “They love it for the color, the beauty, and the feeling of it. Methinks a goblin would have the same passion over the reflection of the moon in the water. In fact, if you could convince him that you put it there, he would be your slave, I’ll wager.”
“And so did Oberon convince them thus,” said Bottom. Then he tossed away his bouquet of clover, raised his arms, and commenced to orate as if upon the stage. “Here are the moon and the stars, I have made them, only this Tuesday, and now I give them unto you, so that you might build me a great palace of night and pay me tribute with your sweat and your blood. All good things flow from me and it is only by my grace that you take breath, which I, the shadow king, will snatch from you on a whim.” He ended his speech with a great flourish, as if winding up his cape of night and tossing it behind him.
I applauded his performance, as a measure more of pity than of appreciation, and Cobweb chirped from her perch in the tree above. “Good Bottom, thou hast righteously traded your bundle of clover to chew the scenery to a tattered motif. Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!”
“Thank you,” said Bottom, bowing to me, to Cobweb, to the odd shrubbery as he went. “You are too kind. Too kind.” He laughed, a hee-haw of satisfaction with himself, and danced a little jig. “I do hope I am transformed back in time to perform Pyramus for the duke. I would not want to let the Mechanicals down over a mere misadventure with a fairy queen. Wouldn’t be brotherly, for surely, he who treads the boards with me this night shall be my brother, no matter how dimwitted he may be, and all the men abed in Athens shall hold their manhood cheap, that they were not on the stage with Bottom upon the duke’s wedding day!”
And off he charged toward Athens, even though, for all I knew, we were miles from town. Cobweb ran down a fir tree until she was eye level with me, then tapped her paw and barked harshly at me, which I took to mean, “You had better tell him, you blistering fuckweasel!” (She had a very eloquent bark.)
“I was getting to it,” I said to the squirrel. The bloody barking ginger squirrel did not relent. “Fine!” said I. “Fine, I shall dash the hapless weaver’s last hopes posthaste.”
I ran after the ass-man and caught up to him just as . . .
ENTER RUMOUR, PAINTED FULL OF TONGUES
“Zounds!” cried Bottom, going from a full gallop to backing up the trail away from the peculiar narrator as if he wore a cloak of vipers rather than tongues. I caught the ass-man by the shoulders and steadied him.
“And so, the ne’er-do-well English fool, devoid of principles or any sense of decency—nay, humanity—betrayed his own traveling companion by keeping secret—”
“Rumour!” I called, with great jocularity and joy, as if I had encountered a long-lost uncle along the trail. “Just the gent I was hoping to see, for I have splendid tidings to share, which shall bring you great pleasure.”
Rumour squinted at me as if he might gaze into my intentions if only he could see beyond the glare of my sunny disposition. His suspicion was betrayed by the waggling of the tongues on his cloak, all of which seemed to be performing a silent and disturbing ululation.