Jimmy Loong
July 26th
2018
1.
Junior
The steam locomotive was not his first ride but he had
better views on the other rides. On that ride, he saw nothing but sands and
dried mud huts. The only consolation was to see for real the double humped
creature. He thought he left it all behind at the turf but they lined it up
like the creatures that made up the caravan. He pulled his head back from the
open window and then closed it shut. He did not want the sands to get into the
cabin. His mum will kill him for that.
“Abraham Van Helsing, if I don’t have my sleep I will
definitely kill you.”
Abraham sat back on the wooden seat with his lips
pouted out. He deserved to do that while he was still at his teenager years. He
was late of one month to be an adult and he has thirty days to reach that. He
will have to enjoy these days. He looked at his shoes. They are new ones. His
mother bought it for him back at home. Home was where the land was covered with
trees and the trees will lined up there in the thousands to greet you with
their music formed by the leaves and branches. That was the orchestra that he
named the Black Forest song.
“Abraham Van Helsing, if you dirtied that shoe and I
will boil it for you to drink the soup.”
iwell; we must love God. Yes, he believed it deep and
never a day he will missed a prayer for God. He looked up from his shoes to his
pants and then the shirt he wore. He left the coat off. All those three pieces
were his before and will be for another year before he outgrew it. He has been
growing for years, his body and also his mind. His father had taken him on the
saddle on the horse riding from and to adventures. His father was not like any
fathers; he doesn’t work and come home in the evening, and then tucked you in
bed. He was a hunter; not of the other humans but the ones that were not. He
was a dark hunter.
“Abraham Van Helsing, if you tear those pants before
you reached adulthood, you will not have one till then.”
His mother was a great one. She knew everything as if
she could read minds. Well she does. She reads the tea leaves in the cup or the
crystal ball but he knew she was lying then. One thing he won’t deny of her was
she was a good mother in her own way. She kept him alive while his father was
placing him in dire situations. That was how a Van Helsing raised their kids.
And more so when the kid was the son.
“Abraham Van Helsing, you dirty that shirt and I will
stitch one on your chest. I know how to do that well”
Abraham looked at his tight-fitted shirt. He had it
with him for over three years, stitched over. His father’s hunting trips
weren’t exactly boring; he had to climb and on occasion out run the wolves, or
do the jump from the high branches. When its all over, his father will tell
him; it ain’t over until you are dead.
That was why Abraham took the sigh of relief then. His
father died last month from a failing heart, and the funeral was quick with the
fellow hunters to pay their respects before he was cremated on the pile of
woods. His remains were the reason Abraham Van Helsing, Junior had to endure
the trip across Europe to the south and then on the last leg of the journey to
Egypt by train. His father had a last request to have his ashes scattered in
the River Niles, the birthplace of his mother, Hasnah Isis, the daughter of the
trader and master of the dark arts, Ali Mina Osis. She even brought her aging
pet, the lynx named Didi in the special carriage cage. He disliked the lynx who
always give him the glare.
“Mother, can I go for a walk?”
It was a long train but Abraham reckoned he won’t get
lost walking there. His mother just moved her toes partially hidden by the
sandals and that was his approval to see the others.
Who were the others?
The train held ten cars of passengers and four of
cargoes dragged by the locomotive steam engine across the dry sandy land. The
journey took over two nights and they were into their third day. The Train
Master told them there will some delays due to sand storms.
“We are unlike the caravans. We have iron tracks and
with that we can still move.”
Abraham had surveyed the cars; three were the
individual units for the ones who needed privacy. Each of those cars held three
units per carriage. There are five for the common passengers and the last two
was the private carriage where there was no access and the dining carriage
acting as buffer in between. It was at the rear before the cargo cars that was
after the private cars. He had to walked through the common passenger cars to
the dining car. He had seen some of the passengers and some took up much of his
notice.
Abraham remembered the group of four rough over the
hill looking gentlemen dressed in khakis short and pants that were knee length,
and marching boots. He recognized the marking on their shirt as the “Adventurer
Club of Birmingham”. Their leader was a short framed and sturdy looking with
the grim expression, side burns with the moustache across the upper lips. He
was called “Major Chips” by his men, and he treated them with military
discipline. There were also the duo chaplains dressed in the white collar and
dark smock holding the holy book on their right hand, with faith design hanging
on their chest by the chain. Those two wore straw hats and had nodded to
Abraham when he was caught staring at them. One of them was older and appeared
to be the one leading the younger chaplain with recitations of the verses from
the book. The younger one was distracted by the group of school girls and was
reprimanded with a slap on the left wrist.
There were also others that Abraham did not failed to
observe. His father told him that he must know whom he met and recalled their
features.
“The demons held many forms and we must be aware of
all.”
There were also interesting characters like the five
rougher looking gentlemen in the plain shirts of various shades and dark pants
but their boots singled them out for it was added on the rider spurs. He
disliked them for they were loud and carried their drinks onto the car. They
only gambled with cards and uttered foul words before the ladies. He picked up
their leader who was seated by himself on the seating, dressed all in black and
chewed tobacco. The leader was older and had a close-cropped hairline with a
visible scar on the left cheek. They all called him ‘Boss’.
The characters did not end there. There was a platoon
of seven soldiers from the French Army from the lapels marking’; Foreign
Legionnaires led by Sergeant Gunter. They were wearing medium blue sashes of the
Legion and were armed with the rifles named the Berthier rifle; bolt action in
eight mm Lebel Cartridge with the three rounds clip fed magazine, with a
maximum range of five hundred feet or more depending on the shooter. They also
have the bayonet on their waist belt. The Sergeant have the extra handgun named
the St. Etienne 1873 with the load of six shots.
Abraham noted that they were there to escort the
French group of five dressed in casually but their equipment was for mining and
exploration. They consist of two men of one was dark skinned and two ladies.
They were studying the maps and measuring the stars with the sextant.
The others were locals and not worth mentioning but
for two dark covered figures with just the face uncovered, and that was etched
with tattoos on the cheeks seated at the last carriage with no intent to eat or
drink from the dining car but brought their own dried food and water canteens. Abraham
saw that beneath their overflowing robe, he noticed the belt of daggers on the
chest.
All of the above did not concerned him much than the
food that was served or more to it, the lady who was doing the service.
“I can assure you, young man. I am not your typical
madame who grill the meat for in the service line, they preferred the man to do
that. However here in the desert, I command the grill.” That was Madame Deauville
previously of Dunkirk, Normandy and then serving the best meat on the train
lines. She was dressed like any other ladies of her trade; the white jacket and
the flared dark skirt with the apron lined with bottle of spices.
“Tell me, young man. Why on Earth do you want to come
to here? I know of many nice places in Normandy where you can run naked and no
one will take notice.”
“It was my father.” Abraham sighed. “He was here many
years ago.”
“And he married your mother and now he came back to
seek forgiveness from the father of the lady he forgot to ask for her hand. I
know that tale well.” Madame Deauville smiled. “In Normandy we just shoot them
and then feed them to the fishes.”
