320. The Bellyman

320. The Bellyman

Out in the gardens of Castle Attor, three children were about to quarrel on the late afternoon of what was soon to be Christmas Eve. They had been gathering mistletoe and holly and ivy, but these festive plants were not what they were ready to fight about.

“You’ve been bad!” Kittykid Neferhari accused his uncle Esmeraldo. “You won’t get a thing tonight from Santa.”

Esmeraldo didn’t look too happy. He wasn’t sure Neferhari wouldn’t be right as right can be.

“Pirates don’t get gifts from Father Christmas,” insisted Neferhari.

“He has not!” Azuline chided her nephew. “He hasn’t been bad at all. He was only playing. He’s not really a pirate. Only a makebelieve pirate.”

“Great Grandpa is hopping mad. He’s jumping like Mexican beans.He almost blasted Elucubrius and Bunglemore to bits at the St. Lucy Bazaar. Great Grandma barely managed to stop him.”

“Esmeraldo didn’t know they were jailbirds. No one keeps jailbirds in a cage like that bountiful galley.”

“Well, when Great Grandpa is good, he is very, very good, but when he is bad, he can be horrid.”

“Grandpa is never very, very good. He is always whacky in his ways. I’ve never seen him be utterly  horrid, though. They say he presses but doesn’t strangle.”

“Azuline, I promise you he can be horrid. He once fooled me into entering a sack and then tied it up with me within.”

“But you’re out here now, so I guess he didn’t try to drown you, Kittykid.”

“No. But he gave me the fright of my life.”

“Yours is a very short life,” said Esmeraldo suddenly. “You are bound to be frightened worse more times.”

“I’m older than you are, though you are my uncle,” retorted Neferhari. “So I’ve lived more. And…Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Now what, ancient guy?” asked Esmeraldo, seeing his nephew gasp and recoil.

Neferhari turned himself into the black cat he could change into whenever he wanted to and  leapt up to the castle wall.

Azuline turned around to see what had frightened the Atshebie.

“It’t true,” said Esmeraldo, who had also turned to have a look. “The man with the sack has come for me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” scolded Azuline. “There’s no such thing on this island.”

“Then what are we looking at?” asked Esmeraldo.

They were looking at a messy and red-haired man who was wearing a beret, and  was smoking a pipe, and leaning on a stick and carrying… a sack!

“Hey there, rapaziños! Boas festas! Any of you wanting your belly rubbed?”

“¡Ahhhhhhhhhh!” hollered Esmeraldo and his sister, and they flew up to the wall, to where Neferhari was waiting to see how things might go. All three then crashed into the castle through a window yelling “Pedubastiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!”

“Now what?” said Pedubastis the Egyptian nanny cat. She sounded more bored than surprised or upset.

“Grandpa has sent the Krampus to get me!” wailed Esmeraldo.

“No, that’s not it!” said Azuline.

“Of course it isn’t!” yawned Pedubastis. “The Krampus isn’t allowed on this island. And he has  nothing to do here ever. He never got even Chickenbroth Pestle when that fellow was a promising child.”

“He can’t have gotten Elucubrius and Bunglemore either,” said Esmeraldo, taking heart. "I floored those guys and the Krampus hasn’t, so he may not be that tough. But the bloke outside is, because he drinks blood. It was spilling from something  that looked like a leather boot.”

“Don’t you want to know who is out there, Peddy?”asked Neferhari. He was his little boy self again and pulling his nanny towards a window.

“Frankly, no!” said Pedubastis, trying to break free from all three children who were now harassing her and tearing at her.

“He does have a sack!” said Azuline. “Look at it, Pedubastis! It seems to be full. He must have kidnapped other kids. We have to save them!”

“No way!” cried Pedubastis. “There are enough of you here today, and more there will be at AEternus’ home when we go have dinner there tonight.”

“He speaks weird. Almost in another language. He said he wanted to rub our bellies!”

“AEternus?” asked Pedubastis. This did surprise her. “When you are cats, I suppose.”

“No, the man with the sack!” insisted Azuline. “And Esmeraldo and I don’t turn into cats.”

And suddenly Pedubastis looked out the window and leapt out of the castle, and onto the wall round it, and down to the garden that surrounded it.

“Who the devil are you and what are you wanting from my charges?” she asked the fat little man who had addressed the kids. She had blown herself up to the size of a lioness, but that didn’t seem to frighten the man.

“I’m the Bellyman,” he said. “Haven’t you heard of me? I feed poor children on Christmas Eve.”

“There are no poor children here. Unless you have some in the sack.”

And Pedubastis tore the sack with one of the claws on her paws. And out spilled loads of chestnuts.

“Oh, no!” cried the man.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Pedubastis.

“Like I said, I feed poor chilren on Christmas Eve and wish that they be fed  every night all year and not starve. I rub their bellies to see if they are well fed or not when I see them, and if they aren’t, I feed them chestnuts, and once they’ve eaten, I wish they will have good meals all the coming year. And they do, because that’s my magic. Help me pick these chestnuts up, will you?” asked the man.

“Pick them up yourself while I go for a better sack than that mended  and to be mended  again rag you have there,” said Pedubastis.

“Could you bring me a new wineskin too? This one leaks a little,” said the man. “It’s medicinal wine, I assure you.”

 “I’ve never heard of the likes of you before, but something tells me you are a legal fellow. Though you’re not where you should be. There are no starving kids on this island. Not on Christmas Eve. Not ever.”