For the Love of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 3) (2 page)

The Birminghamster Treadmill

June 5, 1876.

AUSTRALIA IN METEOR MAELSTROM!

By Ethyl McGillicuddy.

{This report’s timely dispatch comes at the winged speed of the new Trans-Pacific oceanic cable. That cable, when used in conjunction with homing pigeon wired recordings, speeds news of the World around our globe at never before dreamed-of paces. Our planet grows smaller every day in the information spreading web that encircles us in its wiry net. ‘The World is in our Clutches’ is the motto of the All-Knowing Press.}

For the last three nights, our cousins in the Southern Hemisphere have been pounded by giant meteors. One massive impact per night has struck Australia. These are excessively large specimens, and it is a wonder that they withstood entry to our atmosphere since normally, such asteroids burn up in our higher stratosphere. These big rocks usually break up, but in this case, we believe all three specimens to have made it to Earth more or less intact.

This resourceful reporterette was lucky enough to secure an interview with the famous pride of Aussie manhood, Secret Agent James Murray.

S.A. James Murray: “Krikey! Our first strike was in Northwest Aussie, in the Great Victorian Desert outback. Landing near Lake Disappointment, nobody give it a toinker. Then another flaming chunk of debris came down in the Queensland desert’s outback. The blazing rock almost nailed a rum canetoady’s barno. You should have heard the cockle’s terrified account. I quote: ‘Krikey,  the binga waller nearly quewed me dingus. It’s a handy primble I lived to tackyback!’

Indeed, mate.

But blow me for a toonylip, if a third meteor should not come down last night too. The bloody missile come down in a sky full of fire to completely demolish the tackier bits of Gold Coast.

Taking a bounce off of this tourist trap, the missile skipped her way across New South Wales to eventually come to a stop by plunging into the waters of the Great Australian Bight right under my nose off the coast of Adelaide. The resulting explosion of the hot rock hitting the cold water boomed like the world’s greatest kettle drum. The plume of steam from the giant underwater visitor shrouded the entire Kangaroo Island in dense fogoni. It is thought that the object must have come to rest just East of the coast of Kangaroo Island, off the Newland Head Peninsula. Recovery teams have been dispatched to each meteor in hopes of being able to find and salvage the visitor of aether’s space.”

“Do you find any articles of interest, Mr. Temperance?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Plumtartt. I was distracted by the newspaper when I should be enjoying the surroundings. This fabulous rooftop restaurant atop the illustrious Benjamin Arms Hotel affords us a sparkling view of this bustling new city.”

“In actuality, your Birmingham of the United States, Alabama, is not so very different from our steel town of Birmingham, England. I’m just happy that you are actually reading the news as opposed to the scandal rags you normally favour.”

“But they always have such tantalizing covers, Miss Plumtartt!”

“What, pray tell, is able to tear your attention from the celebrity gossip rags, eh, hem?”

“Oh, it’s this meteor bombardment those poor folks down under suffer from, Ma’am. It would be a frightening thing to be under meteor bombardment, don’t you agree, Miss Plumtartt? I beg your pardon, Ma’am? Miss Plumtartt? I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, Ma’am, but your mouth is hanging open like an astonished fish and your perky expression is now as slack as a wet hanky. Is there something in the sky over my left shoulder I should be aware of?”

I turn to see a fireball descending from Heaven, churning the stratosphere into boiling waves of orange.

It appears to be headed straight for us, traveling from East to West across the sky. Though it is far above, we cannot help but to instinctively duck our heads. I can feel the heat from the fiery display. The burning apparition roars directly over our position, and continues Westward leaving the sky roiling with clouds of smoke. A few, long seconds later, we can see a flash of light on the dark horizon from the heavy impact as our visitor from the aether of space collides with planet Earth.

“A meteor, Miss Plumtartt! Just like Australia! It looks like it came down a ways West of here. Perhaps as far as Tuscaloosa.”

“I see, Mr. Temperance. Please allow me to hazard a guess as to your next request. You wish to visit and view this inter-voidal flotsam?”

“One man’s flotsam is another man’s treasure, Miss Plumtartt.”

“Quite right, Mr. Temperance. I confess to sharing a bit of your curiosity myself. If we are to go searching for this celestial visitor, then I suggest we get an early start. You may escort me to my room and return at dawn for our rock hunt rendezvous.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“We would not want some fortune seeker achieving the goal before us, uh hem?”

“Fortune seekers, Ma’am?”

“I say, of course, Mr. Temperance, these aetherical artifacts are notorious for being made of gold and stuffed with precious gems.”

“Gosh, really?”

“No, of course not, you silly boy.”

“Gee whiz, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am, I sure did enjoy our meal together, and I’m awfully excited about getting to go on an outing with you.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, you bashful boy. Give me that hat. There, it may rest atop my own head for the nonce. It would seem to fall upon me to initiate things of a romantic nature, eh hem? Well then, I shall just clasp your jaw, turn your head, and place a kiss directly on your cheek!”

~
mmm
-smack!~

“Yes, quite, hear, hear, good show! Finally, we’re getting somewhere! Until the morrow, Mr. Temperance.”

~click~

She kissed me! Miss Plumtartt kissed me right on the cheek!

“Whoo-hoo!”

I’ll take a pass on the lifterator and just skip down the steps. Gee, between the kiss and running down the stairs, my head is spinning like it just got hit by a chunk of inter-voidal flotsam.

---

“Roof!”

“Yessir, Mr. Bolt, Clementine got us here right on time. The sky to the East is warming up and the first rays of the Sun are just coming through.”

“Roof!”

“Don’t be scared, Bolt; those doormen work here. Yessir, they are impressive with those big old coats. I think the coats are built with fans in the epaulets to keep the wearer cool in the heat of the day.”

Acting in sharp accordance the two commodore appointed hotel guards swing open the twin copper-clad doors. The motion catches the Sun’s glare, momentarily  blinding me. Emerging from the point of brilliance, a radiant Miss Persephone Plumtartt steps from the Benjamin Arms’ embrace.

A single beam of the Sun’s magical light catches Persephone - that is, I mean Miss Plumtartt! - in a golden glow. Her auburn tresses catch the rays and reflect them in a wondrous illumination. Her dress is a deep red, whose satin fabric shimmers in the morning sunbeams. With a smile that could light up the dark side of the moon, she descends the front steps.

“Mr. Temperance, I say, if you go about with your mouth agape, are you not in danger of inadvertently catching a fly, eh hem?”

“Uhb.”

“Please feel free to ogle me at your leisure, sir.”

“Uhb, unh, hunh? Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am!”

“I am jesting, Mr. Temperance. Actually, I think it charming that my appearance often places you into a mild enchantment.”

“Gee, that’s swell, Ma’am.”

“Yes, it pleases me to see thoughts of an amorous nature playing in your hazel eyes.”

“You’re making me blush, Miss Plumtartt! Here, let me assist you up into the buggy.”

“Ah, thank you, sir. I see that you have thoughtfully provided us with a careful chaperon for today’s excursion, eh hem?”

“Roof!”

“I say, of course, Bolt, I will endeavor to behave myself, but please do not ask me to promise, eh hem?”

“Roof!”

“Miss Plumtartt!”

“Not to worry, Mr. Temperance, Bolt knows that I am indulging in play, do you not, monsieur?”

“Roof!”

“Miss Plumtartt?”

“Mr. Temperance?”

Miss Plumtartt’s blue peepers are more alive than Independence Day sparkler sticks.

~batt, batt, batt~

“Uhb. Oh, are you ready, Ma’am?”

“Quite so, Mr. Temperance. With Bolt sitting between us on this buggy’s bench, we are ready for travel.”

“We’re gonna go up Twentieth Street before we turn out of town.”

“Be mindful of the electric trolleys, sir.”

“Yes, Ma’am. You know, as we cross these train rails that are headed East and West, I almost want to stop Clementine. I want to touch these rails that now expand from sea to sea. I want to feel as if I am connected to this country.”

“If you allow us to be run down by locomotive, we shall be.”

“Hey Bolt, you have Clementine take us to the meteor; me and Miss Plumtartt are gonna ride in the back, okay?”

“Roof!”

“Here you Miss Plumtartt, please allow me to assist you as you step over the bench.”

“Of course, thank you, Mr. Temperance. Ah, there we are. Yes, you are correct: this is a charming way to travel, here in the back of your open buggy. I know that Bolt is an amazing dog, Mr. Temperance, but is he actually capable of guiding the horse and finding the location we seek?”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am! I can leave the driving and navigation to Bolt and Clementine. Bolt was affected by the passing of the Revelatory Comet. I half tell, and half conjecture an idea of what I want, and Bolt can get a pretty good read on it. In this case, all I had to do was  locate the general area where meteor went down, which was somewhere near Tuscaloosa. Bolt can take it from there. Not only can he communicate with Clementine, Bolt can navigate us to Tuscaloosa. He can figure the whereabouts of the meteor’s location by discreetly getting a reading of people and animals that we happen upon along the way.”

“How very convenient, Mr. Temperance.”

“Yes, Ma’am, as this leaves me with the opportunity to lie in the fresh hay I have prepared in the wagon with you, Miss Plumtartt.”

“I say, this is an absolutely delightful way to spend the morning, Mr. Temperance; watching the woods and farms roll past. Birds share their happy song as the Sun slowly creeps higher into the sky.”

“This is a good time to get around, all right. Early summer in Alabama means we are provided with the sweet smell of honeysuckle, red trumpet, and wisteria vines. We get serenaded by young froggies and grasshoppers, too.”

“How very nice.”

“Gee whiz, getting to be in a horse-drawn wagon on a voyage of scientific discovery with the smartest, prettiest, sweetest girl in the whole wide World is just about the best thing there ever could be. I can only think of one thing to make things better.”

“Yes, and what would that be, eh hem?”

“Ma’am, would you care for a roll in the hay?”

“Eek! I beg your pardon, Mr. Temperance?”

“I have prepared a picnic and I thought you might like to partake in these delightful pastries while they are still hot.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you.”

“Gosh, these snacks were good, but now I can think of something else to make our travels more pleasant.”

“That would be?”

“Well, if I’m not being too forward, may I ask if you would like to hold hands for a little bit?”

“Why Mr. Temperance, your boldness thrills me. It is so very gratifying to see you finally cut your way free from the chivalric husk of your prudish cocoon. I would cherish the opportunity to hold your noble hand.”

“Gee!”

With the tender contact, time slips away for the rest of our journey.

As dusk approaches, our little party has no trouble locating our quarry. Nor do we need Mr. Bolt’s fantastic psychic skills. Everyone for miles around is tremendously excited about the massive explosion they experienced when the meteor made impact. People that were early to bed were thrown from them. Cakes collapsed. Dishes were knocked from shelves and flung from soapy, startled hands as they were being washed.

The only trouble has been the place of impact for the meteor. The landing zone has proven to be in the pasture of an ill-tempered farmer by the name of Mr. Grunt. The frowning farmer is not happy about having his property damaged by a meteor, and even less happy about having a bunch of folks wanting to tread upon his well kept grounds.

“Git oiff der loiwn, youse kids!”

“His Connecticut accent seems so out of place in this Alabama pasture, don’t it, Miss Plumtartt?”

“Quite so, Mr. Temperance. He does not appear to be allowing entrance to his farm, eh hem?”

“No Ma’am, I reckon he’s afraid he might be missing out on some sort of golden, money-making opportunity.”

“You must go and gain our entrance, Mr. Temperance.”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

“Howdy there, Mr. Grunt, can we…”