CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Guests of the New Republic (Part 6) OR VISITORS TO THE COUNTRY OF ETHNIC SAMENESS (Part 6 as well)
An Early Childhood by Paddy Flanagan is a mock, surreal autobiography by a fictional Irish literary figurehead, champion bodhrán player and broadcaster.
Continued from Chapter 14 Part 5.
With the gunshots still ringing in the distance, and the train chuffing away, I had a quick rummage through Eaglekin’s broken body. Losing a pet in such a senseless fashion seemed so unfair to me. Through a snotty face streaming with tears, I removed a photo of Eaglekins’s’s lovely Dyll from a bloodstained inner pocket, and an address for the lass, who was living in Middlesex, England.
There was also a money clip, containing twelve hundred British pounds sterling – based on the gold standard, ironically enough – and underwritten by the very Governor of the Bank of England, and his very self the very Chancellor of the Exchequer, and guaranteed by the First feckin Lord of the Admiralty via both hook and crook, and a picture of the beardy monarch who was currently in residence on the throne.
The gunfire had ceased by the time I returned to the location of the executions. From a distance, I saw dozens of British soldiers surrounding three surviving Irish rebels, their hands aloft in surrender. There was little I could do, other than return to the safehouse to warn my brethren.
On so doing, I saw that the house was ablaze. It too was surroundered by British soldiers, their voices all faffing and chaffing in their East End Londing accents. My stomach went to jelly. The tears came again.
One of the Brithishers at the periphery of the conflagration was sitting atop a little motorbike. I whacked him in the chin and he biddingly fell off, knocked out with my rabbit punch. Scrambling onto the little vehicle, I gunned the engine and set off, in a heap of a depression, so I was, with my scarf flapping in the wind on the tertiary road towards civilization.
I had more than a few things to deal with, and I wasn’t one to be good about either dealing with them one at a time, or else multitasking, what with my gender incapacitating me in this aspect. Things like:
- Melanie Tiptoft’s chimplike appearance, and what to do about that
- going to see Dylly Oblong, to tell her of Eaglekins’s death
- travelling to the land of the Fair Folk with the help of Billy Boy Cullen, and taking on the evil weatherlock Floudh Rak in his own territory
- contending with those in the mortal realm on top of that, such as Colonel Gold Bollocks Tiptoft and Colonel Coote Decker
- attempting to assassinate Winston Churchill, which I haven’t even mentioned at this point.
And so to Dobbling Village did I return, to my accommodations near the government offices. I came into the now musty and dusty little flat, and I sat halfway up the stairs in the darkness, my head in my hands in a most dejecthered fashion. I remained there till dawn, when there was a tapping on the door, so there was, and I came just a little way out of my funk of despair in order to answer the door.
Read Chapter 15 Part 1 here.