Team of Seven Heroes Shorts Tales 4; Chapter 1

Jimmy Loong

July 26^th 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.”