Chapter 9: Deviled Eggs
"Madam Mim's Gingerbread House. Fat Children Welcome. Yeahhhhh..."
Jim led the girl back down the gumdrop path.
"Yeah we're not going in there. Life size gingerbread house? It's a trap for sinners of Glutton. Bet my life there's a witch inside with human-shaped bake pans. But..."
Jim yanked. The girl tripped, doubling her stride to keep up.
"But if there's a Glutton trap, then that means we must be near a Glutton Bubble. Glutton sinners disperse like bubbles through Illtyde. And if we're near a Glutton Bubble..."
Again Jim yanked the girl.
"...then that means we're near food. And I am starving. Plus we need directions."
Jim turned. By now the motion was memorized, and he shouldered the girl without complication. Of course she was mad, but she was also moving way too slow.
"So we gotta find someplace to eat. Unless..." Jim continued fluidly. "Unless you want to chance it with the witch."
The girl dug her fingers into his neck. Wincing, Jim assumed that meant no.
Happily, they were near a Glutton bubble and Jim quickly found it. Rather, he quickly smelled it.
"Mudka' Meat Hut..." Peering through the trees, Jim read the sign over a squat little diner. The sign was adorned with the Glutton insignia - a bloated infinity knot. "...home of the mug of meat. No llama policy. Great..."
Jim lowered the girl. He started to brush twigs from her hair.
"...must be some sort of restaurant. Okay. Here's the plan."
Jim licked his thumb. The girl squirmed as he smudged dirt from her nose.
"I'm hungry, you're hungry, and we need directions. But Hook could have alerted all of Illtyde by now, so we've got to play it safe. Lie low. So, after I clean you up - "
He smoothed wrinkles from her dress.
"-then we're going to waltz in there, eat, and act like nothing has happened. And I'll tell you what we're not going to do - "
Jim stood the girl up. Doffing his jacket, he wrapped it over her shoulders, hiding the ropes.
"We are not going to cry, scream, kick, call for help, or make a fuss. You've been annoying the Hell out of me with this silence thing - "
The girl looked pleased.
"-so you're going to stay silent when we get in there. There might be pirates, there might be bounty hunters I don't know. But I don't want to get caught. So, the trap - "
Jim squeezed the girl's chin. "-keep it shut. Got it?"
The girl jerked her chin away. Testily, she tried to shrug off Jim's jacket.
"Nope." Jim hiked the sleeves. "Wrong again. I'm not untying you, but we gotta hide the ropes. They'll attract too much attention. So put on the jacket - "
Jim dragged the girl from the forest and into Mudka's Meat Hut.
"-and keep your god damn mouth shut."
Glutton sinners came in two flavors, if you'll pardon the pun. Glutton sinners could resemble the hyenas: slobbering, overfed pigs that would eat until they died.
Glutton sinners also came in a second stereotype: classy. These sinners lived the royal's life in parties that never ended. They were upscale folks that liked good food, good wine, and exquisite taste.
Of the two, Mudka's Meat Hut was a rare blend. Nothing says class as much as a 'no llama policy,' but nothing kills class like a diner that serves nothing but meat.
"Welcome to Mudka's Meat Hut..." said an unenthusiastic waitress, handing out menus. "...home of the mug of meat."
The waitress clicked her pen. "What'll it be?"
Jim sat. The booths were cramped and the diner was crowded. Slobbering drunks and mysterious wayfarers glared from every corner.
Especially, Jim noticed, they examined the girl. Aside from the waitress, she was the only female. And her delicate-doe-eyed-fairy completion was not helping. She drew attention like honey attracts wasps.
Jim pointed to the opposite seat.
"Sit."
He waited for the girl to obey. When she did, he began collecting utensils from her place setting. A knife was the last thing he wanted in her hands.
"What do you recommend that's cheap?" he asked the waitress.
The waitress followed the utensils as Jim gathered them. Glancing at the girl, she continued halfheartedly.
"Chef Louis specialty of the day: les poissons and deviled eggs."
"Sounds expensive."
"Everything Chef Louis cooks is expensive." the waitress said. Apathetically she waved at the kitchens. Faint singing could be heard inside. "Chef Louis is a culinary artist - very French. His every creation is an edible masterpiece. He's a wizard in the kitchen and a memory in your mouth. He cooks experiences...not food."
Jim raised his eyebrows. The girl bit a smile. The waitress was clearly reciting a company script and did not believe a single word.
"Okay..." Jim opened the menu. "...so this chef is a sinner of pride?"
The waitress shook her head. "Wrath. If I were you and your girlfriend, I'd eat every bite."
"Not my girlfriend." Jim muttered, consulting prices before entrées. He suddenly remembered the mermaid that had escorted him from Hook's ship. "And definitely not my type. What's in the tuna croquette?"
"Saltines, eggs, and tuna."
"Baked?"
"Fried."
"Come with bread? Rolls?"
"French."
"Okay." Jim flipped over the menu. "I'll have that."
The waitress took the menu. She addressed the girl. "And you?"
"She'll have the same." Jim answered quickly before the girl could speak.
Unperturbed, the waitress collected the menus. But before exiting, she leaned towards the girl and nodded meaningfully at Jim.
"Bless you dear for coming out in public."
The girl smiled gratefully. She even smothered a laugh.
Jim rolled his eyes. He thought of his sister. "Girls."
An uneasy silence followed. Awkward even. Since her kidnapping, this was the most civil interaction Jim and the girl had exchanged. Sitting quietly across a table, feigning interest in their surroundings, pretending not to notice each other, preparing to break bread.
Carefully, Jim glanced. He'd lugged the girl through darkness and dusk, but he'd never actually looked at her. At least, not long enough to analyze.
Contemplatively Jim turned a butter knife. He studied the girl.
She was pretty, that was obvious, and she looked about his age. True, her cherubim features and enormous blue eyes subtracted a few years, but she added them right back with steely, disproving glares. Her nose was dotted with caramel freckles, and her hair was the same color. She was pale, slender, and she wore a nightgown which, for the life of him, Jim could not figure out why.
But that wasn't her most distinguishing trait.
Jim's eyes flicked up. The bow. She wore a bright blue bow, just like a little kid. It wasn't big, it wasn't showy, but it was there, almost like a reminder to never grow up.
Jim frowned. At first impression, he would have pegged this girl as a saint. But a saint of what? She kicked, she punched, she glared, she reproved, she wore a flimsy nightgown for God's sake, and she was wanted by Captain Hook. All of these were indications that she was a sinner.
Jim fingered the knife. He looked down. His reflection glared back: angry eyes, shaved head, ratty bangs, grungy rat tail, sharp jaw hard as stone. He was unmistakably a sinner, it was written in his face. But the girl was harder to read.
Jim angled the knife, catching the girl's reflection. Suddenly he wondered: was she a sinner or a saint?
He was about to ask when she looked up.
"Uh." Jim faltered, embarrassed to be caught staring. Coughing he reached under the table for her ropes. "Uh. Okay. Here's the plan. I'm going to find someone for directions. You wait here..."
The girl blinked. She looked alarmed. Frantically she shook her head as Jim knotted the ropes around the table leg cemented to the floor.
"What?" Jim asked. He tested the knot. "What?"
The girl opened her mouth. She shut it. Then biting her lip, she beseeched Jim with big blue eyes
Jim couldn't believe it. "Good God. Are you imploring me? Are you seriously asking me to stay?"
She looked hopeful. Begrudging, but hopeful.
Cruelly, Jim laughed.
"Come on." He said, pocketing the utensils. "Big girl like you? Afraid of being left all alone in a scary two star diner?"
He tapped her cheek with the spoon. "Stay put. I'll be right back."
It was with great satisfaction that Jim departed, the girl fuming without the power to retaliate. Still, as he settled at the bar Jim couldn't help wondering why the girl had insisted he stay. And why she was afraid.
"Yer a little young for spirits, aint ya Lad?" a snake-faced sailor wheezed.
Jim hunched his shoulders. "Not here to drink."
"Too bad."
"I need directions."
"Where to?"
Jim considered. "Cult of Greed." he finally said. "Up north."
The sailor stopped, mid-swig. "Cult of Greed, eh? There's an award out for a sinner of Greed. Stole a girl."
Pointedly the sailor turned. He eyed Jim over his glass. "Got a price on his head."
Jim swallowed. So, Captain Hook was looking for them.
Kneading the butterflies in his stomach, Jim tried to smile. "Show me a sinner of Greed that doesn't have a price on his head."
Unexpectedly, the sailor laughed. The exertion was too much and he grasped his chest, winded. "Whats'cher name, Lad?"
"Jim."
"Sinner of Greed, then?"
"Yeah."
"From up north? Ye live right in the cult? Near McDuck Bank n all?"
"That's home."
"The ol' bloody cult." the sailor fingered his glass. "Me shipmate use to live there, before he signed up w' Capn Hook. Ol' son of a devil! Cyborg persuasion. Had a peg leg."
Jim grinned. "John Silver?"
"Aye!" the sailor thumped Jim's chest. "That's the scurvy cur! Long John himself! Ye know 'im?"
"Practically bunkmates." Jim said. "Mentor. Father figure. All that crap."
"Well. How's that fer wind in yer sails..." The sailor extended a hand. "Names Bones. Billy Bones. Sinner of Greed."
"Cool." Jim said. "You any good with directions?"
"Fer a mate of Long John? Land ho and ships ahoy."
Billy Bones withdrew a map. Jim tilted. It was a map of Illtyde.
"Ye'll want to pass through the River Vein." Billy Bones traced a nail tangentially across the map, "Head northeast. Avoid the west. There's a pack o' hyenas scavenging the Cult of Wrath."
Jim rubbed his jaw. "How long will that take?"
"On foot?"
"Yeah."
Billy Bones shook his head. "Too long. 'Specially with...things the way they are. Prices on heads. Lost little girls. Greedy thieves on the loose."
Jim stiffened as Billy Bones dragged him near.
"Quarter mile past Madam Mim's..." Billy Bones dug a nail into the map. "This mark here. There's a Coachman with a coach. Free transportation. Chuck full o' sinners and scoundrels not wanting te be found."
Jim frowned. He touched the hole in the map. "The Coachman? The Coachman is a sinner of Greed. A slave traitor. What if he tries to - "
"If ye can handle The Coachman, you'll get a free ride." Billy Bones crumpled the map. "The Coachman's a businessman, not a fighter. Ye can handle him if yer tough, scrappy, and bold. But if not... the Coachman will sell ye into slavery faster than anchors aweigh."
Jim chewed his cheek. "Well. It's an option. I'll think about it."
"Aye." Billy Bones said. "Ye got more things to worry about, Lad."
"What do you mean?"
"Yer mates w' a pirate. Ye should know..." Billy Bones nodded over Jim's shoulder. "...that a pretty girl is like blood in the water. And sinners of Lust...are the sharks."
Jim turned. His eyes flew to the girl like a whip.
She was still at the table. A man in golden armor was nestled close beside her.
Too close.
"Damn it!" Jim wove across the diner. Utensils clinking in his pocket he approached. He forced himself to remain calm.
"Okay, okay. Party's over." Jim stood before the intruder. "Hands off."
The man regarded Jim. Then, deciding Jim wasn't a threat, he returned to the girl. "Come on Princess..."
Half rising, the man pulled her nightdress "...let's go find a room."
"I said-" Jim blocked the aisle. The man was easily two heads taller and trimmed for battle. Heart thumping Jim watched the girl's ropes. "-hands off."
The man looked mildly impressed.
"Knight in shining armor. Thought that was my department."
Conversationally the man stroked the girl's hair, as if she were his pet.
"You know my name, Sonny?" he asked Jim.
"Got a few theories." Jim said, making eye contact with the girl. Guiltily, he understood her silent plea. "They all begin with ass and end in hole."
The man laughed.
"The name's Phoebus: means sun god." Phoebus wobbled the girl's head. "Sinner of Lust."
"Shocker." Jim said. "Big surprise. Listen dufus, you've got three seconds to get off my girl and beat it."
"Whaaat? Only three?" Phoebus cradled the girl against his hip. "We were having so much fun. Come on prince charming: why spoil a match made in heaven?"
"Two reasons." Jim jerked his head towards the bar. "First, my pal Billy Bones over there doesn't like sun gods."
Phoebus paused. He glanced sideways. Billy Bones waved a rusty cutlass across the diner.
"And second," Jim withdrew a butter knife. "I'm a devil incarnate. I made a deal with the devil and when I die, I'm going straight to Hell."
Jim's confidence swelled as he spoke. Stepping forward, he aimed the knife at Phoebus's throat.
"Don't tempt me."
Phoebus raised a brow. His fingers curled in and out of the girl's hair. Then, with a smug smile, he kissed her bow.
"Keep practicing, princess." Phoebus said, departing with a gallant bow. Jim glared as the girl recoiled and Phoebus passed.
"Oh and Sonny Boy." Phoebus pointed under the table. "Next time, make sure the ropes aren't too tight. How else will you make a quick escape?"
Jim gripped the butter knife.
"Asshole." he muttered, trying to shrug off his panic. Angrily he spun around. "Dumb pathetic piece of - "
"-two tuna croquettes with French rolls."
Jim bumped into the waitress. "What? Oh - " swiftly he sat, cognizant of the staring customers. "Yeah. Put it down. Thanks."
"I'll bring the check." Lethargically the waitress sprinkled parsley over the croquettes. "Enjoy."
"Sure." Jim said, attacking his plate. The utensils trembled in his hands. "Whatever."
The food was good. Not an experience, but Chef Louis did know how to cook.
Jim glanced up. The girl was not eating. She simply stared into her lap.
"Hey." Jim nudged her plate. "Hey I'm paying for this."
She didn't respond. Jim rose, with the intention of force feeding. Then he noticed. She was crying. One tear, maybe two. But still, she was upset. Enough to cry.
Jim sat. Across the diner he heard Phoebus, entertaining the bar with crude remarks. The girl's lip trembled. She could hear every disgusting insult.
Jim rubbed his knee. He didn't quite know what to do. It was a strange situation, one Jim only imagined when he thought of his mother. But his mother had been a sinner of Lust. Selling her body came with the territory. And Kayley...
Sardonically, Jim huffed. He never had to worry about Kayley. Jim dared any man to take advantage of his sister; they'd probably end up neutered or in the hospital. But the girl...
Jim glared. He had no reason to feel defensive on her behalf. None. His obligations to this girl included a trip to the Crossroads and quick sell to Captain Hook.
Still, in a weird way, the girl had trusted Jim to protect her. And, in all honesty, he failed.
Jim spoke quietly.
"Did he hurt you?"
She shook her head.
"Did he touch you?"
Pause. Then, she shook her head.
"...you okay?"
Nothing. Then, a very big sigh.
Jim watched. He waited.
"Okay." Jim pushed the bread basket to her side. "Eat."
Unsurprisingly, she did not comply.
"Look. Come on." Jim said. "You have to eat."
The girl - no longer tearful - held up her hands. Glaring, she gave two deliberate tugs on the rope. The intention was clear: untie me and I'll eat.
"Herrrrre we go." Jim groaned. "Miss Virtue strikes again. Look, I know you're upset. You've been kicked around by me, Captain Hook, and Mr. Sun God. But that's the way things are here. This is the land of sinners. People sin. And I don't know what type of fairytale kingdom you've been living in, but this is the real world. People push. People shove. People steal. People take. People break promises. And people get hurt - even after working hard all her life to -"
Jim stopped. The girl narrowed her eyes, noticing Jim's slip.
"You know what?" Jim flagged the waitress. "Forget it. You don't want to eat? Fine. Check!"
The waitress brought the check. But Jim, to his horror, could not pay.
"Dust?" Stunned, Jim emptied his pockets. His money was gone. There was only dust. "I had ten gold coins. I know I did. They were right here! It's like they've been turned to - "
"Zut alors! He cannot pay? HE CANNOT PAY?!"
Jim was wrenched by the collar. Spinning, he crashed into a very angry, red faced Frenchman.
"Crap." Jim struggled. "You must be Chef Louis."
"Oui!" Chef Louis slammed Jim onto the table. His eyes burned like stove plates. "You little insect! You dare insult my honor! My masterpiece! My FOOD?!"
"Not food!" Jim choked. "An experience!"
"Toodle loo mon poisson!" Chef Louis swung a meat cleaver over his head like a ninja warrior. "Au revoir!"
Wack!
Jim ducked. But the blade never hit. As Chef Louis dropped his arm, the girl looped the meat cleaver with her ropes. The blade swicked between her wrists, the rope snapped, and the girl, freed from bondage, stomped on Chef Louis' toe on her way out.
"Damn it!" Jim scrambled over the wailing chef. Plowing through chairs, tables, customers, and doors he darted after the girl. "Damn it! Get back!"
"Go get her, Lad!" Billy Bones laughed as Jim sprinted away. "And God speed! God - "
Billy Bones hacked. Tongue lagging, he collapsed as Phoebus twisted a knife from his belly.
"So..." Phoebus uncrumpled Billy Bone's map. Wickedly, he retraced the marks with the sailor's blood. "Coachman...Cult of Greed...really?"
Phoebus grinned.
"Well..." he gazed at the swinging door. "A sinner from the Cult of Greed. With a girl that wears a bow in her hair. Sounds awfully...familiar."