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In the Haus
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Old Coomara got exceedingly comfortable,
and sung several songs; but Jack, if his life depended on it,
never could remember more than
“Rum fum boodle boo,
Ripple dipple nitty dob;
Dumdoo doodle coo,
Raffle taffle chittiboo!”
It was the chorus to one of them; and, to say the truth,
nobody that I know
has ever been able to pick any particular meaning out of it;
but that, to be sure, is the case with many a song nowadays.
- T. Crofton Croker
The Soul Cages
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Only when the final chord of the minstrel’s song had fallen hauntingly silent did the musical enchantment break. The silence hung in the air for a moment – a collective in-breath, the only sound – before the Jonestown Brew D’Agon erupted in applause. The crowd roared its approval with shouts of “Huzzah!” and calls for an encore. The blind musician, wearing two eye patches – one over each eye –, merely smiled a crooked crescent moon grin and bowed with a flourish. His exit, stage left, was surprisingly deft.
Louis de Lyon leaned against a sidewall, twenty feet from the stage, flagon firmly in hand. He supposed the musician's blindness was not a handicap in the dimly-lit interior of the Coffee Haus. None of the other patrons heard Louis mumbling to himself. He barely heard himself, suddenly distracted as he was by her eyes – those haunting eyes –, which stared at him from across the room – beckoning like wreckers’ beacons –, blinked dreamily, and then were gone. And so was she.
Louis didn't hesitate. He couldn’t stop himself from following her, even if he’d wanted to. He had to at least know her name. He pushed through the tightly-packed tavern as quickly as he could without starting a brawl. Louis was adept at moving through overcrowded spaces, having spent a few years in a small European city, but he still quickly lost sight of her in the massive throng of reveling pirates.
He spun around searching fruitlessly until, at last, he spied the stairwell to the Lounge. She might have gone down there, Louis deduced. He hurried over to look, but when he arrived at the stairwell, it was empty. The only movement visible was the door of the Lounge closing slowly, gently, and silently on well-oiled hinges.
Is Desire stronger than Fear? In this instance, yes. Louis glanced around quickly to make certain no one was watching. Surprisingly, or not, in the middle of that figurative sea of humanity, no one noticed Louis de Lyon. He was nobody important… just another pirate. Louis slipped unseen down the dark steps, paused at the door, and pressed his ear below the words written in bold calligraphy…
Entrance Forbidden
Without Prior Authorization
Hearing no sounds from inside – perhaps due to the raucous noises from above – Louis tested the door's handle. It turned easily, and he pushed the door open a crack. The door’s hinges creaked unexpectedly. A voice hailed him from inside the Lounge.
"Come, bred’ren. Thou mote not fear. Join me. D'Agon fhtagn."
Realizing his trespassing had been discovered, and that there was nothing to it now but to do it, Louis opened the door wide and stepped inside.
Despite holding its “Grand Opening” a month ago, the Jonestown Brew D'Agon was still unfinished. This fact was most evident in the Lounge, where the signs of ongoing work were everywhere. Canvas drop-clothes covered furnishings that were pushed against the wall opposite the door. Tools, chests, barrels, and other assorted materials lined the adjoining wall to Louis's right.
In the middle of the wall to Louis’ left, a second doorway was half hidden behind a heavy partitioning curtain that divided the room into two sections. When closed fully, the curtain was intended to provide another level of privacy for patrons desirous of such accommodations. The curtain was currently partially open, and Louis could see no one hiding behind it. The drapery swayed slightly as if a breeze were blowing – or as if someone had just brushed against it in passing.
The only source of light in the lounge was an elaborate candelabra sitting on a massive, round, oaken table in the middle of the room. The candles burned steadily, their flames unwavering, casting their light upon the only other living being in the room... a lone man, dressed entirely in black and white: black breeches and weskit, white shirt, black shoes, white stockings. A black tricorn hat rested on the table, the blue-black feather in its brim turned away from the candles’ flames. Louis de Lyon recognized The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor Heronimus Jones immediately. The Reverend Doctor motioned with a jewel pommelled cane, beckoning Louis to move closer. Louis knew The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor Jones would not order him flogged for insubordination like many pirate captains and naval officers are wont to do, but Louis was still afraid of the consequences of his impetuous actions.
Heronimus watched Louis thoughtfully, smiling merrily at something he observed in the younger man. When The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor spoke again, his voice was friendly and reassuring.
"D’Agon fhtagn. Be not afraid. Verily, I doth be impressed by yer brazenness. ‘Dare where others fear to tread,’ forsooth. Thou art Louis de Lyon. Art thou not?"
Louis couldn't help but smile. The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor Heronimus Jones had actually heard of him, Louis de Lyon. The very thought caused Louis to blush; his face flushed with pride. The Right Honourable Reverend Doctor Heronimus Jones motioned with his cane for Louis to sit in the only other chair at the table. Louis didn’t need to be asked twice. He nearly leapt into the seat. Heronimus chuckled softly.
“’Tis most fortuitous for me thou hath arrived when thou didst, Louis; verily, mi experimental draught system doth needeth a field test. ‘Twouldst be most pleasin’ to mi spirit iffen thou wouldst join me. Please, stay and have a drink with me. D’Agon fhtagn.
Louis couldn’t believe what was happening; he was about to have drinks with the CEO of The Brew D’Agon Traiding Compagnie, Incorpirated. Louis was so focused on this amazing turn of events that he did not hear the crowd upstairs cheer then grow quiet. Nor did he hear the woman's voice, the siren's song that drifted down, muted, from above. It didn't really matter. Louis’ fate had already been decided, whether he knew it or not.
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“No doubt of it; but come, Jack, keep the liquor stirring.”
Shell after shell did they empty, and to Jack’s exceeding surprise, he found
the drink never got into his head, owing I suppose, to the sea being over them,
- T. Crofton Croker
The Soul Cages
I’d like to be under the sea
In an Octopus’s garden with you
- The Beatles
Octopus’s Garden
And you may ask yourself,
- Talking Heads
Once In a Lifetime
“How'd I get here, sitting next to you?"
But after all I've said, please don't forget
- Twenty One Pilots
Heathens
Those who tasted, knew.
Those who tasted not, knew not.
Instead of talking about the celestial beverage,
say nothing,
but offer it at your banquets.
Those who like it will ask for more.
Those who do not, will show
they are not fitted to be tea-drinkers.
- Idries Shah
Tales of the Dervishes: The Story of Tea
"You must be," said the cat,
"or you wouldn't have come."
- Lewis Carroll
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
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