Protege

Available through Kerlak Publishing

“It’s not just about making people happy, John,” said Rupert, doffing his hat to the attractive lady sitting on the park bench. She smiled demurely, causing him to pause briefly before continuing his afternoon stroll. He always found it difficult to tell if a woman was attracted to him personally or to his appearance of wealth, and the lady’s eyes offered no clue as they flickered from his calfskin vest and various bits of gold to his dark, mustachioed face with the light scar under his right eye.

“What about her?” whispered John, adjusting his ascot as he shuffled closer.

“Possibly, but her overall demeanor suggested current optimism, even joy,” answered Rupert as he glanced down at his nephew, appreciating the boy’s enthusiasm. John had his mother’s sea-green eyes and jet black hair, as well as her relentless curiosity. Properly channeled, he would make a good protégé.

“Oh,” replied the young man, furrowing his brow in an apparent struggle to understand why that disqualified the woman.

Rupert popped the metal-tipped end of his padauk walking stick on the ground for emphasis. “Remember, John, what I said about emotions.” The boy’s expression remained unchanged as Rupert continued, “It’s not just about making people happy, it’s about helping someone achieve unbelievable bliss.”

John stopped in the middle of the path and glanced back at the woman. “But isn’t one closer to bliss if they’re already happy?”

Rupert sighed, but reigned in his frustration, demonstrating patience and control, “Yes, John, in a way, one is closer, but the truth is emotions and perceptions are almost always relative. You can take someone from a state of happiness, improve their situation even more, and that person will feel only a small change. On the other hand, what if you take someone from a state of despair to those exact same fortunate circumstances?”

John looked up at his uncle and replied hesitantly, “They feel happier?”

Rupert motioned for the boy to sit beside him on an unoccupied bench. “Allow me to see your hand.”

Rupert forced himself to remain calm as John hesitated at first and then finally offered his left hand. “You would do well to obey me sooner,” said Rupert as he secured the young boy’s wrist with an iron grip. John recoiled but couldn’t pull free.

“This hand of yours is perfectly healthy and functional, is it not?” The boy nodded, but his face spoke of fearful anticipation. “Does it hurt at all?”

John drew his breaths quickly as he replied. “No sir.”

“Now,” said Rupert, maintaining his firm grip, “tell me about this park.”

John swallowed hard. “Uh … this is Victoria Park, and … uh … those two alcoves are from the original London bridge and ….”

“No, John, look around and tell me what you see.”

The boy glanced away momentarily and then back to his uncle, “Trees, people, and buildings beyond the clearing.”

“John, never allow fear to stop you from observing the world around you. You have my word nothing serious will happen, so please take a longer look and be more descriptive with your observations.”

John visibly relaxed as he looked beyond the bench. “Uncle Rupert, I see the lady we passed earlier rising from her bench. Her cotton walking skirt is navy with a simple white blouse and complimentary navy sun bonnet. Her parasol is a darker green with white lace.”

“Good, now continue,” urged Rupert.

“I can see buildings beyond Bonner’s Gate where….”

Rupert smiled at his nephew’s descriptions and then, with considerable force, he pinched down into the soft joint between John’s index and pointer finger. The resulting scream brought him no pleasure, especially as several passersby looked on with disapproval, and he quickly let go.

“Why did you do that?” yelled John. The boy’s face grew bright red with anger.

“Before you give in to your emotions John, please answer this simple question: Does your hand hurt right now?”

John looked down at his hand and replied, “No, I guess not.”

“In fact,” continued Rupert, “would you say it feels rather good compared to just a few seconds ago?

John hesitated a moment and then a hint of a smile emerged, “Yes, it does.”

Rupert reached over and tussled the boy’s hair. “There’s hope for you yet John. Now, let’s finish our walk, shall we?”
.” …

Read the rest of “Protege” in Dreams of Steam 2: Brass and Bolts, available directly from Kerlak, or Amazon (Paperback, Hardback), or Barnes & Noble(Paperback, Hardback).

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