BROTHERS IN ARMS
Copyrighted September 9, 1999 by Rory V. Pascual
PART ONE:
"Oh, Father! Thank you! Thank you so much!" young Richard exclaimed as he literally snatched the beautifully wrapped box from his father's hands.
"Be careful, Richie!" Alexa admonished her only child, though there was a warm smile on her face. "Your father toiled for many nights just to finish it in time for your birthday!"
Adam patted his lovely wife's arm as he gazed fondly at their son. Richie had plopped down on the floor and was eagerly tearing up the wrapper.
"Come now, Alexa!" he said gently. "You know how much it pleases me to see children happy, especially our son."
"Oh, but Adam," Alexa argued, her weak voice tinged with expectant regret, "they are such beautiful toys, and you KNOW how Richie is."
"Toys are made to bring joy and laughter to little boys and girls. They would not serve the purpose they were built for if they were just left lying on a shelf."
His wife motioned discreetly to the cupboard in the corner of their modest home. "Like those toys?"
Adam looked at the cupboard, a broad grin forming on his handsome face. On the shelves sat many toys, worn by age and use, but still beautiful and charming nonetheless, as toys were created to be.
There were jack-in-the-boxes, puppets and toy clowns. Dolls of all shapes, colors and sizes. On one shelf sat a portly Teddy Bear, with its mismatched button eyes – one black, the other deep blue.
Adam remembered his father telling him, that when he was three years old, he had chewed the eye off and swallowed it. His father had insisted that the other black button eye still lay within the rumbling confines of his belly. Though he knew it to be a tall tale, Adam kept that special story in his heart.
The toys on the top shelf were what caught his eye; special toys made for him by his grandfather. Occupying the entire area of the shelf was a replica of a Highland keep, made of wood and paper. On the green paper grass ground, happily playing his guitar was a gypsy in motley garb. A figure of a young lady with lovely raven black hair, wearing a white silk gown, stood in elegant poise. However, the mischievous smile on her face and the toe of a red satin slipper peeking out from under her gown were obvious signs that she was about to launch into a dance. Of course, the toymaker was very much aware that the lady has a secret. In truth, she's a master thief, and hidden within the tucks and folds of her gown was a slim blade.
Adam couldn't help the warm smile that formed on his face, however, when his eyes fell upon the figure in the center. It was a figure of a Highlander. His grandfather had been meticulous in its detail that it looked like a tiny human.
Handsome of face, the Highlander has long dark brown hair of the finest silk. On his head was a tam o'shanter with tiny feathers pinned to it. He wore a loose white shirt and a tartan kilt of blue and green, wrapped around his waist. The kilt's tail crossed diagonally over his chest, the end draped over his left shoulder. It was held in place by a golden brooch, with a bull's head engraved on it. On his feet were fine leather boots. Hanging in a scabbard at his left hip was a broadsword.
"Why does he have a sword, grandfather?" Adam once asked the elderly toymaker. "Why not bagpipes?"
"He's a Scottish warrior, my boy! An excellent swordsman!" His grandfather then winked, whispering in his ear, "I'm afraid your Merry Scotsman has a wee problem. He's tone deaf, so he couldn't play the bagpipes."
When his grandfather had given the toy to him, the Highlander's limbs could be moved to form human-like postures. However, Adam had not been a careful child.
He couldn't recall what he had done exactly, but he remembered the circumstances. Adam remembered how his father took him to see a group of travelling performers, and how they had danced the Highland Fling not just to a delighted audience, but also to an awe-struck little boy. Adam had wanted his Merry Scotsman to dance the Highland Fling too. Besides, he never believed his grandfather's tale that his beloved toy was tone deaf. The Merry Scotsman just sings out of tune, but this never stopped him from appreciating fine music. After much vigorous shaking and twisting, Adam had bent the toy's right leg back and couldn't return it to its former position. Not even his grandfather could fix it.
Oh, Adam had been heartbroken! He remembered sitting in a corner of his room, clutching his beloved Scotsman close to his chest, wailing, "I'm sorry! Forgive me, my dear friend!" over and over again.
His grandfather had taken the Merry Scotsman from him, creating a special support that the toy seemed to stand perfectly balanced on his left leg. Not only that, the old toymaker even made a beautiful keep for the Merry Scotsman, as well as the lady thief and the gypsy to keep him company.
"Your Merry Scotsman is a prince, Adam!" his grandfather had said to him. "A prince among toys! Do not weep, child. He understands you did not mean to harm him. A man of honor, he is, with a heart big enough to love and to forgive, even an impetuous little boy."
"Adam? ADAM!" Alexa shook her husband gently.
"Forgive me, love!" he said sheepishly. For awhile there, Adam thought he saw his Merry Scotsman smile at him, with such fondness in his deep brown eyes. "My mind must have drifted off."
His wife winked at him reassuringly. "I know what you've been thinking of. You always get that dreamy look on your face whenever you pass by the cupboard."
"Come now, Alexa!" Adam exclaimed jokingly. "I've seen the look you've been giving my Merry Scotsman too. You've been taking better care of him than the rest of the toys, and of me." He sniffled in mock sadness. "I think I'm jealous."
"Adam!" Alexa said in surprise. "You know you're the only man for me!" She gazed wistfully at the toy. "It's just that... I don't know. He seems so alive sometimes. When I look at him, I suddenly feel strong." A weak laugh escaped her lips. "Listen to me! I'm babbling like a crazy woman again!"
Adam somehow managed to smile, but there was such sorrow in his eyes as he looked at Alexa. His wife was very ill, and it was only a matter of time before she'll be gone from their lives. He found it ironic and poignant that Alexa drew her strength and determination to live from the Merry Scotsman, just as the toy has been an inspiration to him when he was growing up.
As he gazed at the mementos of his childhood with pride, Adam sighed. "These toys had served their purpose well, that is why they now hold a place of honor in our home. They had given me great happiness when I was a child."
"The Merry Scotsman?" queried Alexa, a twinkle in her eye.
"ESPECIALLY the Merry Scotsman!" Adam turned to his wife. "If you like, Alexa, you could take him with you into our bedroom when you're resting."
"Oh, yes, please!" Alexa said eagerly. "He would make such good company!"
Before Adam could reply, their conversation was interrupted by an audible groan.
"Father!" Richie exclaimed in dismay. "One of them's ruined."
"What do you mean?" He went towards his troubled son and sat down on the rug beside him.
In answer, Richie faced him, a tin soldier lying in the palms of his hands.
Adam took the toy and gave it a scrutinizing glare, as well as its twenty-four other companions still inside the box. He examined it with expert meticulousness, letting his craftsman's eyes roam across the neat red uniform with its shiny silver buttons, the helmet on its head and the coal black trousers.
"I don't see anything wrong," said Adam in finality.
"But, Father!" the boy exclaimed, shocked that his father didn't see the obvious. "He doesn't have any legs! I've never heard of a legless soldier!"
Adam stared at his son, aghast. "Richie, show some respect to a veteran! This 'legless soldier', as you call him, survived many terrible campaigns. In fact, he lost his legs in a cannon blast, saving his fellow soldiers." He moved the soldier's right arm, fixing the musket's position. The tip of the bayonet glinted in the lamplight. "Although his legs are gone, he still has his arms and hands, and he is an excellent marksman. Son, you're looking at a hero!"
Richie crossed his arms over his chest, a sullen pout on his lips. "Why don't you just admit you ran out of tin?"
The toymaker cocked an eyebrow up. What his son said was true. He DID run out of tin, but he would never admit it. Still, something inside him told him that this particular tin soldier was, INDEED, finished, legless though it was. Adam had even added a grayish beard, giving the soldier a reserved dignity the others did not have. Given his son's reaction to it, Adam was rather dismayed. Because of hard times, the children were losing their innate gift to dream, his son included.
"Whether you choose to believe me or not, I speak true," Adam said with pride, handing the toy back to him. "He is a brave toy, this tin soldier with no legs. He has proven his worth to his comrades. Give him a chance to prove himself to you."
There was such grudging assent on young Richard's face as he stood the tin soldier on the floor. Supported by a metal frame, to the child, it looked more like a scarecrow than a man of war.
Still, to humor his father, Richie asked, "What's his name?"
"Why don't you think of something?" queried Adam in turn.
The boy shrugged, not really wanting to name his toy.
Adam turned to his wife, but Alexa merely flopped her hands to her sides helplessly. He found himself looking at the Merry Scotsman once more, and it suddenly hit him. A perfect name for a deceptively imperfect toy.
"Let's name him after your great grandfather, Richie," said Adam, smiling. "His name will be Joseph."
~~~
Night had fallen, but Joseph still stood on the same spot where Richie had left him. Blatantly ignored, the tin soldier could only watch in envious silence as the child played with his comrades for hours and hours.
"Richie, it's time for bed!" Alexa told her son.
Joseph saw the boy hasten to put the soldiers back inside the box. He waited expectantly for Richie to hold him in his palms once more. So eager was he for even a brief touch from his young Master. But the child did no such thing. Instead, Richie headed straight for the stairs, leaving him on the floor.
It was kindly Alexa who picked up the soldier. "Richie, you forgot Joseph! He needs to rest too!"
"He's on guard duty tonight, Mother!" called Richie from the top of the stairs. "Leave him there!"
In the corner of his eye, Joseph saw his creator, Adam the toymaker, emerge from his workroom. He looked questioningly at his wife, to which Alexa answered with a sad shake of her head.
Breathing in deeply, she gazed in sorrow at the poor toy. "I'm so sorry, my friend! Richie's truly a good boy. He didn't mean to be rude. It's just that my son doesn't know you well enough yet. He'll come around. You'll see. But for now, Joseph, keep watch over all of us tonight. You and the Merry Scotsman."
Saying this, Alexa kissed Joseph on the brow and set him down on the floor next to the box. Straightening up, she went to the cupboard and bestowed a similar kiss upon the Scotsman.
Then, the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall above the cupboard chimed a discordant melody. Joseph was alarmed when he saw Alexa wobble a bit. He wanted to help her, but he had no legs. Thankfully, her husband ran to her side, giving her support.
"There, there, love!" Adam said reassuringly, putting his arm around her waist. "I've got you! Had another dizzy spell?"
"I don't know." Alexa shuddered visibly as she glanced at the cuckoo clock. "That's a horrid thing, Adam! I wish you would get rid of it!"
"Alexa, it's just a cuckoo clock!"
"But where's the little cuckoo bird? It never goes out of its little door. All that clock ever does is chime out of tune. It's mocking me, Adam. It's mocking me with the time I have so little of."
"Don't say such things!" Adam declared, holding her close to him. "You'll be with Richard and I for a long, long time."
"But Adam..."
"Come now, dear!" he said softly. "You're just tired from the day's excitement. Let's go to bed!"
Alexa wearily nodded. "I suppose you're right."
Joseph watched in sorrow as the couple slowly went up the stairs, bearing the lamp with them.
Silence and darkness filled the house. Joseph, however, was not afraid. The mistress of the house gave him an important task. As a soldier, it was his duty to obey. Besides, he didn't mind it one bit. Joseph liked Alexa and, he had to admit, he was concerned about her. Then, there's the added bonus.
Slowly, Joseph lifted his eyes to the top shelf, and to the figure of the Merry Scotsman. The tin soldier was awed by the powerful aura emanating from the toy. He was the other Master of this house, just as he was the Master of his keep. And they had something in common too.
He only has one leg, Joseph observed. From his position, the tin soldier couldn't see the Scotsman's right leg bent behind him. Both of us cannot move. We could only stay where our Masters leave us. But he is not letting this disability stop him from gaining the love and trust of everyone in this house. If he can do it, so can I!
So lost was he in his admiration that Joseph didn't notice that the box's lid was moving. When the cardboard lid fell on his head, the knock brought him back to his senses.
Twisting his torso to the side, he called out, "Halt! Who goes there?"
"Hush, Joseph!" a voice answered him. "It's me!"
"Oh, Donald!" Joseph breathed in relief. "You scared me half to death!" Seeing his friend climb down from the box, he asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to carry you back inside, what does it look like I'm doing?" Donald said with a huff and puff as he tugged on Joseph's stand.
"You will do no such thing! The lady of the house charged me to watch over her home tonight, and that's what I'm going to do."
"Watch over her home or watch over someone else?" another voice queried.
As they looked in the direction of the voice, they saw that it was their commander, James. Swiftly, the two toys gave their superior officer a snappy salute.
"At ease!" James glowered at the tin soldier. "We have rules, Private, in case you've forgotten. Loyalty to our comrades always comes first. We do not interfere in a crisis unless it affects us directly. We DO NOT fraternize with the enemy!"
"But, sir," interrupted Joseph, "I do not think they're our enemies. They're toys, just like us!"
"Get your head out of the clouds, Private! They maybe toys, but they're not anything like us. Already, one of them has cast a spell on you." He gazed at the cupboard, where already a small celebration has begun. Gypsy music was being played on a guitar. James' eyes softened as he turned to the soldier. "Joseph, we've been good friends, even before we were remade into this shape. Trust me on this. This is our rule. We stick to our kind. You belong with us!" The commander's eyes focused on the Merry Scotsman, narrowing in anger and distrust, and even envy. "Not with them!"
Joseph, however, ignored his words. Snapping to attention, he said, "Sir! The mistress ordered me to keep watch. I must obey her command, sir!"
"Don't be stupid, Joseph! You said it yourself. We're just toys! Do you think this...this sacrifice...will endear you to that little boy? You saw for yourself how disgusted he is with you!"
Though the words of his commander stung his heart, Joseph remained stone-faced. Looking straight ahead, he said firmly, "I'm sorry, but orders are orders, sir!"
James fell silent, a fierce glare in his eyes. Seeing that the tin soldier would not obey him, he turned to Donald. "Leave him, Private!"
"But, sir..." stuttered Donald.
"I said leave him! No one will take his post tonight. Maybe the darkness and the stillness of this house would give him a chance to think where his allegiances should lie."
As James stormed off, Donald hastily whispered, "Joseph, I'll sneak out tonight. I'll take next shift so you can sleep."
Joseph accorded his good friend a reassuring smile. "I'll be all right, Donald. Now, go on. I don't want you to get into trouble on my account."
Donald hesitated for a moment. Then, lifting the fallen box lid onto his shoulders, he climbed back inside the box, closing it. Alone once more, Joseph straightened up and returned to his watch.
However, it didn't take long before someone else distracted him.
Using the heads of the old jack-in-the-boxes as well as the soft belly of the Teddy Bear for steps, the gypsy dropped down before him, playing the "Czardas" on his guitar.
"Watch your foot, Jakob!" one jack-in-the-box with a loose spring complained.
But the gypsy ignored him. "Hello!" Jakob greeted the tin soldier with an exaggerated bow. "Why don't you join us? It's not right for a fine gentleman like you to just stand here and watch. Come! Dance with us!"
"How can he dance?" a haughty doll pointed out. "Can't you see he doesn't have any legs, fool?"
"But he's got this!" Jakob gave the metal stand a mean kick that Joseph tilted slightly backward. "I could give you a good twirl with the top string. What do you say? Of course, the spin might knock you off. We don't want the lovely ladies to be mollified by the sight of you crawling on the floor."
Though his heart was being stabbed again and again by those cruel jibes, Joseph's face did not reveal his inner turmoil. This only caused the gypsy to hurl more insults at him.
Suddenly, the lady in the silk gown came up behind the gypsy, a string tied around her waist. Furious, she pinched Jakob's ear that he cried out in surprise and pain.
"You never cease to embarrass us, Jakob!" the lady thief said in anger. She bowed gravely to Joseph. "I'm sorry about all this! I should have kept this young upstart on a leash. I'm taking him with me. He won't be bothering you again."
"Oh, Amanda!" Jakob cried. "You always spoil the fun!"
The thief yanked on the string, and a red, green and blue top slowly pulled up the two dolls.
Amanda gave out a most unladylike snort. "I don't see anything funny about insulting disabled toys. Besides, I don't see you doing that to HIM!" She discreetly motioned to the lone figure on the top shelf.
"He knows I'm only joking! If he didn't, he would have taken my head long before."
From within the folds of her gown, Amanda pulled out her sword. "Maybe I should take your head myself!"
With the lady and the gypsy gone, Joseph went back to contemplating the far wall, hoping for some peace to soothe his aching heart.
"Are you all right?" a gentle baritone asked from the topmost shelf. His accent held a pronounced burr.
Gazing up, all Joseph saw was the Merry Scotsman. Amanda and Jakob were still bickering on the lowest shelf.
It couldn't be! He thought nervously. Why would he want to talk to someone like me?
Somehow, Joseph found the courage to ask in turn, "Are you talking to me?"
"Who else would I be talking to?" the Merry Scotsman asked with good cheer. "You're the only one down there!"
"I guess," Joseph answered with much apprehension, wondering if this was a prelude to more pain.
"Please don't do that!"
"Do what?" the tin soldier asked, frowning.
"Brood. You look so glum." A sigh escaped the Merry Scotsman's lips. "There is already so much sorrow in this house. We toys do not have to add to it."
"You mean the mistress, Alexa, don't you? There's something wrong with her."
"Aye."
"Why won't the Master fix her?"
"There is an...illness...inside her that the Master cannot repair."
"I do not believe that! The Master can do anything!"
"Except save his beloved wife. Even the healers have given up. It's all in God's hands, they said." The Merry Scotsman smiled at him gently. "That is why we toys must strive to bring happiness to the family. They need us now, more than we need them."
"But what can I do?" Joseph exclaimed in frustration. "Look at me! I'm a cripple!"
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a cripple too. But this hasn't stopped me from trying to make the Lady Alexa happy." The Merry Scotsman looked straight into Joseph's eye. "There is a reason for everything on this Earth."
"Is there a reason why I have no legs?"
"Aye, just as there is a reason why I became this way. I cannot tell you what it is though. It has something to do with the purpose you will serve in this life. You'll have to discover it for yourself."
"How long will it take for me to find my purpose?"
The Merry Scotsman shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't found my purpose either, but I haven't stopped searching. In the meantime, I'm helping the Lady Alexa."
"What about me?" Joseph started to say. "While I'm still looking, what do I do?"
"As you have probably seen, the Lady Alexa draws her strength from me, but I cannot do it alone." The Merry Scotsman bowed graciously to the tin soldier. "I need your help, brave soldier. The mistress has taken a liking to you, just as she has with me. Maybe, just maybe, you and I could give her the courage to live."
There was bright hope on Joseph's face. "Are you saying we could fix her?"
"The right word is 'heal'," answered the Merry Scotsman. "Who can say? I am hoping that we could work some form of miracle."
"If..." Joseph hesitated, afraid to ask the next question. "If we're going to be working together, does this mean we're friends?"
Before the Scotsman could reply, however, the door of the cuckoo clock burst open and a demon jumped out, its round eyes and the jewel on its forehead glowing a bright red.
"Tin soldier," the demon snarled at Joseph, "do not wish for something you could never have. The Merry Scotsman belongs to me. I gave him my permission to play with the mistress of the house alone, and no one else. After all, she is dying, and it won't be long before he'll be mine completely."
Anger shone in the Merry Scotsman's eyes as he glared at the demon. "You do not own me, Ahriman! I would rather break into a thousand pieces than belong to you!"
Ahriman unfurled his wings and fluttered down behind the Scotsman. The poor toy tried to unsheathe his sword, but the demon tore it from his waist.
To Joseph's horror, he saw the demon wrap his arms around the Merry Scotsman, his huge, loathsome hands exploring the intimate places on the toy's body.
"UNHAND HIM!" Jakob shouted, as he and Amanda reached the top shelf. The gypsy charged at the demon, guitar raised above his head. Even Amanda had her sword in hand.
Ahriman, however, conjured up a strong wind that sent the lady thief and the gypsy flying back towards the edge. Before the two toys could fall to their doom, they somehow managed to get a firm grip on the ledge. Jakob's guitar landed on the rug with a soft thud at the soldier's feet.
"You dare try my patience? Gypsy, thief, maybe I should destroy both of you right now!" the demon roared in fury.
"Go ahead, Ahriman!" the Merry Scotsman goaded his captor. "I dare you! Harm a single hair on their heads and I swear you will never have me!"
"Is that so?" Ahriman sneered at the lovely toy in his embrace. "I do not need you to be willing. Maybe I should take you right now."
The Merry Scotsman shuddered as the demon planted a slobbering kiss on his cheek.
Unable to control his anger any longer, Joseph cocked his musket and aimed at the demon. When he pulled the trigger, there was a loud pop as a silver ball was fired from the muzzle. The bullet grazed Ahriman's shoulder, creating a deep, smoking cut. The demon hissed in pain and fury, for silver is the metal that is lethal to all evil creatures once it strikes the vital organs. Ahriman was lucky that Joseph had simply fired a warning shot.
"You shall pay for this, tin soldier!" Ahriman ranted and raved, gripping his wounded shoulder. "I swear I'll make your life a living hell!" At these words, the demon retreated into the safe confines of the cuckoo clock.
"Are you all right?" Joseph called out worriedly.
The Merry Scotsman was trembling with fear, but somehow he managed to answer. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."
"The demon. Is he..."
"Aye! He is the reason for all the misery in this house. I won't be surprised if Ahriman was the cause of the Lady Alexa's illness."
"And he also desires you."
In his shame, the Scotsman could only nod his head in reply.
To think, earlier, I was wallowing in self-pity, Joseph mused sadly. Compared to his troubles, my problem is so trivial.
"Joseph, we all have our share of troubles," said the Merry Scotsman, as if reading his thoughts. "Our differences lie in the way we carry our problems and try to find a solution for them. There was a time when I felt sorry for myself because of this disability. But, with time, I learned to accept it, and so will you." He gazed at the tin soldier hopefully. "For now, will...will you be my friend?"
Joseph couldn't believe what he just heard.
Shyly, he commented, "I think I should be the one asking you that."
"I asked first. Please? My brave tin soldier, would you be my friend?"
Happiness shone on Joseph's face. "Yes, I will be your friend...if you will be my friend as well. I am called Joseph."
"Thank you, Joseph," the Merry Scotsman said in joy and relief, " and, aye, I'll be very honored to be your friend. I am Duncan. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod."
At that instant, something passed between the two toys, something that linked them together. The change was so subtle that they did not feel anything inside them. But Amanda and Jakob noticed that there was something different now about their Lord and good friend. Duncan couldn't get his eyes off Joseph. As for the tin soldier, even he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Merry Scotsman.
"Come now, Duncan!" Amanda took his arm. "It's rather late. We must sleep now."
"But the mistress told me to keep watch," argued Duncan. "Besides, Joseph and I... We still have a lot to talk about."
There was a trace of irritation in Jakob's voice as he snapped, "For two toys with much to talk about, you're certainly very quiet."
Amanda gave the gypsy her fiercest glare, silencing him.
"Go on, my friend!" Joseph urged him. "I'll keep watch over all of us tonight. You need the rest, after what happened with Ahriman."
Duncan smiled as the tin soldier pertly saluted him. "I suppose you're right. I'll see you on the morrow then. Good night, Joseph."
"Good night, Duncan!"
For a moment, Jakob gave the tin soldier a dubious glance. He then helped Amanda bring the Merry Scotsman inside the keep.
When he was finally alone, Joseph's eyes fell upon the gypsy's fallen guitar. Propping up his musket on the side of the box, he picked up the guitar and plucked a few strings. A song suddenly came to him, music he had heard long ago in a previous life. It was easy for him to find the notes on the guitar.
~~~
Inside the keep, Duncan heard the guitar, and he wondered if Jakob was having a restless night like he. Then, someone began to sing, his voice rough, rather gritty. He was singing about two men – one a King, the other a lowly warrior – who became good friends, and later, brothers-in-arms.
"Joseph," he whispered his friend's name, touched by the song the tin soldier was singing for him.
As he listened to his new friend sing, Duncan allowed himself to be lulled into soothing sleep, something he has not had since Ahriman entered his life.
MAIN CHAPTER TWO