Tale Number One: Dederik Flunn
I had just turned seventeen, and had never killed a man, when my boss called me to his home to discuss business, a ritual started not long ago by my father and unceremoniously passed down me. The employment was well enough, my dad used to say: the hireman never asked questions and paid high for the facile work a common theif would be able to execute. But I couldn't help thinking that... if the work was so lenient, why wasn't my father still alive today? I used to shake my head and wonder, but I now chose to believe my mind has opened to the more unwonted half of society. My eyes flickered to the old man sitting beside me in the horse wagon, senile as well as blind. Lifting his hand to fail in brushing a fly from his stark white beard, he looked almost helpless to me in comparison His name, he had needlessly told me, was Dederik Flunn, owner of the local wheat mill and father of a beautiful daughter. I was here to murder him. Under strict price, of course... one must earn a certain reputation in this business if he is to succeed. No matter how heartless an act seemed. I took a deep breath as I flicked the horses to a trot, for I needed to get away from town as quickly as possible if I was to maintain my will. But he was so old, and helpless. I knew it would be like sticking a knife in your own mother. While she was sleeping. This was the story. My boss was in love with Mr. Flunn's daughter, Tessa. It was this man, Mr. Flunn, who kept them apart, tainting their new love with jealousy and having his daughter viciously beat for dominance. My employer'd told me that their love could never be until Tessa was rid of this man, and forbid she go against her fathers' most revered wishes. More beautiful than a jewel, this man I call my boss claimed he would die for her a thousand times over. And he would die, I thought, if there was any connection to this murder and himself. Despite the beatings, Tessa was terribly fond of her father, and would turn her love in if she found out he'd been behind his death. My look of easy travel dispersed and I glowered at the seedy man. What kind of man would do this to a daughter who loved him? Beat her until his own lusty appetite for power was filled? I suddenly realized that there was so use staring, he was blind, after all. Clearing my throat, I spoke to him loudly enough for even his shriveled ears to catch. "I'm glad you've decided to join me, Mr. Flunn. I do so wish to learn about milling, you see. It was my father's wish that I follow in his footsteps. An' well, he died before he could teach me..." Flunn surprised me with an uncommital grunt, which sounded more like a lung bursting than anything else. He turned his white eyes in somewhat my direction and grinned toothlessly. "Ah, you've told me that before, lad. I'm glad to be o' help, with your poor father o' dying, don't ya know. Sad, it 'tis," he turned away once more as if watching the hilly countryside roll by under the feet of our horses. I felt a pang of unwanted sadness for the man. The beauty of the grasslands were as gone from him as his sight. Just how much could the loss of the world have on a person? It was a moment before he spoke again, his voice rough. "Me own father died when I was but a lad, wanted me to be a gosh dern doctor... but ya know, sometimes you jus' gotta go with your gut feeling, no matter how ya miss the man. Just a dead man after he's gone, after all." I shook my head. This was a subject I felt strong about. "With respect, I disagree, sir. If it was your father's dying wish you become a doctor, you have a responsibility... a duty... to fulfill it. He be the one that gave you the ability to hope. Why, sir, he gave you life!" "God damn, he gave me life, boy! Only my God gave ME life, and my God wants me to be happy, and if that means me bein' a blind miller, than so be it!. Are you here to learn about wheat mills, 'er hear me babble on about God knows 'hwhat?" He heaved once, then leaned back, adjusting his crooked back into a comfortable position. "So, m'boy?" "Sir?" His heavy brows beetled. "Ask me about mills, ya brainless dolt, before I collapse and me ticker get's caught in a lung!" he snapped. My breath caught in my throat, if not in anger than in dismay. If only he'd known how much easier that would have made my job. How could I possibly kill an old man, a blind one at that? I certainly couldn't take about wheat all day! Could I? I could almost feel the knife in my boot, rubbing againt my skin. It had belonged to my father, and it had killed many. I hadn't. I glanced around the hills. Were we far enough to not be caught if he screamed? Were we close enough to town for him to escape? "Boy?" Flunn asked suspiciously, reaching towards my arm, "You still there? Don't you be a playin' games on this old man, ya hear! I may be a 'tard, but I ain't stupid" He beat his daughter, I reminded myself. Heard her scream until her voice went hoarse, made her cry until her tears became bloody. I slowly reached into my boot. When I felt the warm steel I shivered. How many times had this dagger been the last thing a man saw? And I couldn't even give Flunn that dignity. I looked at the sky. Oh, God! Why was this so hard for me? Why did I always have to be the man behind the calm visage, the one whimpering with self accusations? How could my father have possibly stood this? How I wished I had at least half his courage! Damn my father for dying! Damn him to Hell! Suddenly turning to the old man, seeing his peaceful composure, made me realize... if I thought beating a person was so horrible, then what would I do after I killed one? "I'm... I'm here, Mr. Flunn. Just thinking," Is this what it feels like to have no backbone? "So...how much does it generally cost to start a mill? My father didn't leave me too many bills, and I heard, (from reliable sources!), he had friends in high places, perhaps three wealthy, two friendly." There it was. I could almost feel my resolve slipping away. I was no longer going to kill this old fool. I was going to have a conversation about ... wheat, then take him home to his daughter. I would let my boss handle his own filthy business. I didn't know if not following in my father's footsteps felt liberating or confining at that moment, but by God I wouldn't follow. My heart couldn't bear it. "So... you still aren't plannin' to gut me like a fish, are ya? Dick-less sheep!" I dropped my hand in shock, and jerked the horses to a halt. How had he known I was reaching for my dagger? He was blind!... wasn't he? I suddenly wasn't so sure. I cautiously waved my hands in front of his face. He caught one deftly, his bent fingers intertwined with my straight. I gasped in pure shock. Tricked! "Ah, ha... don't ya worry, laddy," Flunn said throatily, "I do be blind, I do be a 'tard, but I do NOT be dumb. Frederick sent ya out here to do away with me so he can get his filthy hands on my daughter. Wary of him rightly, she be." He turned his face away and spat, "He always played dirty, the rodent." My heart was pounding wildly. Frederick was a name I never used for my employer. It was a name almost literally burned out of mind because of lack of use. "Sir..." I blubbered, not even thinking of reaching for my dagger, "I wasn't gonna kill you, I swear! I changed my mind! Please, let's say no more of this! What of the mill? Please!" Flunn growled and tossed my hand aside. "What do you friggin' mean, 'changed your mind?' Do ya bloody think I came out here with ya, knowing this, only to be friendly with the enemy and teach doo da to some killer? Nah! I bloody want you to do what you came out here to do!" He grabbed my shirt collar instead and pulled me close enough for me to smell his breath. It stank of pipe tobacco and tooth decay, but no matter how I squirmed, I couldn't tilt my head. My wide eyes were locked to his milky white, unable to break free of his silky seriousness. This man, I realized, was insane, for all his calm exterior. "Kill me, laddy, jus' like ye were paid too! You do be doing me a favor if you do!" He used a free hand to get a hold on my dagger, which I had thought well hidden in my boot. We fumbled awkwardly for a moment, him grunting and trying to shove the small blade's hilt into my hand, and I whimpering like a scared child. If someone had come by, right then, he might have thought the old man was trying to assault ME. "Mr. Flunn, sir! Please stop! I can't do it! I've never killed before! And you have... such little life left to live... you owe your father this time! Your daughter!" When all else fails, draw straws. Flunn was getting angry. His botton jaw was shaking with the strain of his words. "Boy, ye don't understand what it do be like for me! Ye wish to know why I ain't a doctor? I be blind, ye ass, if ye hadn't realized! Know the pain? To ne'er see the stars, to be denied the color of nature when you do be one of her own fruits! Me own daughter won't even talk to me the way she used to! Now tell me... do that sound like a man worth the gift o' life? My spirit'll thank ye if you just end this worthless time! I can't stand the bleedin' seconds anymore! DO IT! Ye can have me mill, and take me daughter as yer own! Just kill me!" The white flecks of anger trickled into my mind. This old fool was trying to pity me into killing him, when I, out of the goodness in me, spared his life! I finally took the blade from him, and while he began to glow in perceived victory, I turned the edge to my own neck. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I couldn't just kill the old bastard. He must have known what I was doing, for he began to shake again, this time in fury. "Maybe Tessa would speak rightly to you if you never had her beat!" I snapped, " Did you ever think of that bloody possibility? Don't you know what your dying would do to her? You said your God wanted you to be happy! Isn't that what you said? So live and be jolly, damn you! There's no way I'm gonna split you, so forget it!" Flunn growled. "Beat my daughter? Beat her! I never done a thing to hurt my child! She do be the only family I have left, and I love 'er truly! I'd rather....why I ...I! ...." Mr. Flunn suddenly bent his head back and grabbed his fist to his chest, coughing. His other hand uncurled from around my collar. How he had held on so strongly was beyond me. "Mr. Flunn?" I said in alarm. "Are you alright? Do you need...?" The coughing fit continued. His eyes glistened with filmy wetness, and he violantly shoved my hands away when I tried to help. My Lord, I realised suddenly. He was having a heart attack! I glanced quickly for any passerby. No one moved... only the grass in the wind. What would I do if he died? Would I still collect my pay? I cursed and slammed my fist into my knee, staring at the accursed knife. I had drawn my own blood, it seemed. Maybe that had been what I intended to do in the first place. And then I heard a muted 'thump' on the ground. All thoughts went silent. I looked from the blade. Mr. Flunn was lying motionless on the ground beside one of the horses. I knew, without being a doctor, that he was dead. The silence seemed so much more silent. It was the next week, after I collected my money and gained the stinging congratulatory slap on the shoulder from Frederick, when I walked up to the front foor of a small blue cottage with white lillies in the window. I took a deep breath. Was I doing the right thing? Was I being foolish? But I knew inside I was right. It was time to stop questioning myself. I was not a murderer, never had been. I slowly bent over and placed a silver gilded box on the doorstep, the one in which I bought with the money I earned from Frederick. It was a small token, I know, but I feel that I owed Mr. Flunns's spirit at least that much. On top of that, I placed a letter explaining Fredericks plan to murder Tessa's father and marry her in her devastation. I myself would leave Frederick to his own Hell and move South to start a mill. Possibly a wheat mill. I sighed as I stood up, and straightened my new wool jacket. I was doing the right thing. My father hadn't deserved to be an assassin, and I surely didn't deserve his fate.I just wanted to be happy. I knocked once on the heavy oak door, then turned and walked away down the cobbled path. I didn't look back, but watched the sunset change the sky into an array of fiery colors. These were the colors a man saw when he held his son for the first time, or when making love. Not all beauty is for the eye to behold. I knew Mr. Flunn was appreciating it also, yet perhaps from a higher, more perfect vantage point. I smiled. I wondered if this would be the place where Tessa would spread her father's ashes.
Copyright © 2001 Banae Wan |