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Chapter 14 - Overwhelmed

I hated the cold. I work in the heat of fires and homes, so usually I'm sweating my bollocks off even in the dead of winter while working in the chimneys and the homes of people who could afford me services. At home, Alister always had the hearth roaring when it was even a bit chilly out -- he said it was good for his lungs to be warm all the time. I don't really know how true that is, seeing as he's gone.

My head ached and spun as I realized my precarious predicament. Duncan, the brute and mean bugger of a Master Sweep, had tossed me out of me ass buck naked. I had heard of this punishment before -- boys who didn't act grateful for what they had been cast out for the night without a scrap of clothing or coin on them. Duncan's punishments were generally brutal or unique, but in this weather you could die without having on any covering.

Plus, I was not as comfortable strutting around in me fur as Gideon was. I had a hand over myself as I crouched in the darkness, one hand on the wall. I knew better than to try and wiggle my way inside -- I think Duncan was hoping I'd try. With a reluctant sigh, I knew this was not where I was going to sleep tonight.

Thankfully it was dark out. I knew I could make my way to Gideon and hide out with the Howlers. I just had to cross town without being seen by a constable and be arrested for having me bum and balls out for all the world to gawk at. I was also nervous about my fur, but one quick once over and I knew I looked fine. I had gotten really good at hiding myself.

I was up and moving and keeping my eyes peeled. It was cold out, and also at night, but sometimes me luck was better than I expected and I was hoping to find some kind of shirt or pants or even just a scrap, something for personal covering and not offend those with delicate sensibilities.

As I got closer toward the centre of town, the more people were about and that meant being extra careful. Sometimes this meant running from a hiding place in an alley to another, or ducking behind some steps. Once, I had to throw myself down onto the ground as a police carriage rolled on by. I was not enjoying this little game.

And to tell you the truth, I was not comfortable in just my fur. I was rarely naked and the last time had been with Gideon. I didn't have my pockets for things or my pack or even my tools. I felt more exposed than I ever dared like to admit and that made me angry. Duncan, somehow, knew what made my mind tick and had decided to torture me with it. If Billy or Avery said anything to him it would just drive it all home and I would be even more embarrassed. Worse, if he did stick around as our Master Sweep, he could use it against me whenever he liked. I guess I needed to get used to being in the buff so he couldn't use it to club me over the head with.

I was just about to dart across a narrow bridge and into the nicer part of town -- it was always a good shortcut that avoided the seedier pubs -- when a carriage was coming at me. I looked up and saw the blinding light of a lantern, and for a brief moment I was worried it was Spring Heeled Jack, even if the light was yellow and not red.

I had to jump to the side just to get clear of the damned thing, even having to pull my tail in with a hand before it got run over. I saw the crest of the college on it, followed by the sound of it stopping and the carriage door opening.

I was about to make a run for it when I saw who was stepping out. Professor Bensley. The thick raccoon in his long heavy coat lowered himself down onto the cobblestones and fished out his spectacles, placing them on his snout in a kind of regal manner I had to admit looked good on him.

"Simon?" he said, gobsmacked. "What in Her Majesty's kingdom are you doing out here... naked?!"

I stood up to my full height and leaned my shoulder against the lamp post, crossing my arms over my chest, and my ankles loosely, trying to look confident. I wasn't even holding my groin right now, and I had to bite on my cheek to make sure I remembered to not hide myself.

"Ah, 'ello Professor," I said with my best jovial tone I could muster. "Just a bit hot out lately... figured I'd take a stroll."

"A stroll...?" The tone told me he didn't buy it, but then Bensley almost always saw through my act. The man was smart and sharp as a tack. He enjoyed playing the somewhat out of it professor who was too absorbed in his own world to care but that, he once told me, just let people talk more freely around him.

"Y-Yes." I rubbed the back of my head and tried to look sure of myself still. "You know... it's what everyone is... doing these days," I said with a sheepish smile, ears tipped back ever so slightly in supplication.

"Simon King," he said, walking over to me and stared down. "I am a stupid old man but I am not so stupid as to tolerate a liar." His tone told it all. He was upset but also worried, though I didn't have time to think about that as he grabbed my ear and pulled me to his carriage. "And what was one of the rules I said you had to always follow if you were in my presence, Simon?"

I winced and walked on my tip toes, trying to keep up with the older, taller man, and felt myself shoved and hoisted into the carriage, tumbling onto my side as the raccoon climbed in and closed the door. He made work of closing the blinds and tapping on the glass to the driver in front. All at once the carriage began to roll forward.

"Ah," I said, rubbing my aching ear as I sat up, and clamouring up to the bench seat across from the professor. "Ye told me never to lie to ye," I said defeatedly. "But that didn't mean you had to channel all the nuns in heaven, take their ear-pinching power, and try to snap me ear off!"

"And what should I have done, finding my pupil who hasn't visited me in weeks stark naked in the road at this hour, hm? You know how close we are to the police, right? You would have been arrested and tossed into jail for running about with your genitals on full display like some kind of tribal heathen."

I sighed and curled my tail into my lap, giving myself some minor covering as I looked at the raccoon. "I don't know... I mean, walking about London naked and not getting caught is a bit of a feat in and of itself, ain't it?"

"Simon," The raccoon said, drumming his fingers on the bench seat he was on. "I think today, once we get to my home, we will go over common acts of decency and speaking."

"What? A lesson? But we were talking about science 'n stuff, professor!"

"Aye, aye that we were, that we were... But then you decided to cast off your clothing and become a little gremlin of the night. It is my duty to correct that behavior before you swear it off completely."

"Professor..."

"Do not worry, my boy," Bensley said with a wicked smile (for him anyway). "I'll only channel half the nuns in heaven for this lesson."

Bensley was kind, sometimes too kind. He kept prying for information about what had happened to me while we rode home. I wasn't in any mood to talk about it and kept trying to distract him with jokes and half-truths, anything to avoid talking about how much I was hurting.

When we got to his home he threw his cloak over my shoulders and escorted me inside. There, he had me wait in a guest room as he was gone for several minutes before returning with a stack of clothes.

"These," he said, "belonged to my son when he was about your age. They're a bit old, but better than running about in your fur."

In my mind, these clothes were practically new. Then again, most of my clothes had been hand-me-downs or bought as cheaply as I could afford them. I think the shirt that Duncan had ripped off me had been Alister's at one time with how threadbare it was in places.

A few more minutes and I was dressed in a nice pair of brown slacks without any holes in them, a fine white button up shirt with the broad collar and cuffs actually edged in some kind of forest green. My suspenders were fine leather, too. I didn't have my hat, but then only MY hat would do in this situation. I walked out to the sitting room tugging on the back of my slacks, grumbling.

The professor was sipping some tea as he looked into the fire, his book on the table with the little threaded bookmark sticking out of it. I knew what that book was, the one with all the ways a gentleman should behave in polite society. I had to keep reminding the raccoon that I never had meals that required more than one fork.

"You look rather dashing, Simon," Bensley said with a warm smile. He saw me tugging at my trousers and frowned a little. "Is something the problem with your pants, my boy?"

"Nah," I said, walking to my usual chair and flopping into it, curling one of my legs under me out of habit. It always made me feel bigger in these fancy chairs. "You just gave me that very small under-thing to wear and... it feels weird."

Bensley looked confused, then his rounded ears perked and he nodded a little bit. "Oh! Yes! Fancy invention that, isn't it? From America, you know. A man in Chicago invented it, something much less stuffy than heavy undergarments. My wife had been in America when she saw them and bought some for our son, but by then he had moved out. I figured it would be good for a boy like you, always working hard and having to be flexible. I honestly just did not know what to do with it. It is called a jock-strap, I believe."

I blushed a little bit and played with my tail as we talked about something rather intimate. I did not want to be rude though, not with someone like the professor. I swallowed a little bit and nodded. "Just that... this is really the first time I ever wore under-things. Usually not worth the trouble of buying them where I come from."

"Oh." The professor tilted his head to the side in thought. "Well then, keep it. If it isn't to your liking, you do not need to wear it. The rest of your outfit is yours as well."

I smiled and flicked my tail out of my lap. "Thank you, professor! You're always so generous. Especially with your small cakes and teas." I stood up to take one of the sweets and blinked at the frame on the small table near the professor's chair. It was a framed black and white image, crisp and clear. I couldn't see a bit of paint on it or anything. My mouth hung open when I realized it was not a painting at all.

"Professor, is that... one of those... things where they can take a moment and put it on paper without paint?"

The professor followed my eyes to the frame and smiled. He picked it up and looked at it lovingly.

"Ah, sharp eye, my boy. I brought it in here from my bedroom since I wanted to look at it more. It's a photograph of my family."

He turned it to show me. In it were two male raccoons, one clearly Bensley and the other a younger man. They stood behind a chair where a fine lady raccoon dressed in what looked like a flowy dress and ruffled ends sat perched so fine and proper.

"I've only seen pictures like that once or twice. They're so... weird."

"Weird?" the professor said, quirking a brow. "Simon, I know you know better words than that to describe things. Try again."

I frowned and exhaled slowly, thinking about all those grammar and vocabulary lessons I'd sat through. "It... It... It's like you paused the world and put it in a tiny frame."

Bensley nodded and put the photograph down gently. "Alas, I wish. Being able to pause and store fond memories in frames is still beyond our scientific ability. As it is, Simon, a photograph is light captured and exposed to special paper. That paper is then exposed to chemicals that develop the image. It's quite fascinating, my friend took this for me as a gift for helping me get in contact with some photographers in America."

I guess Bensley saw me staring at the photo some more because he cleared his throat once again before picking his tea up. "Simon, if you want, would you like a photograph of your own?"

My ears perked up, turning to look at the raccoon in awe, then back down at the photo I was now standing in front of. "But... I don't know what I'd do with a picture of your family, professor."

That comment got a warm belly laugh out of the professor. So much so that it made me smile, even though I wasn't exactly in a laughing mood. "No my boy, not of my family. Of yourself. Would you like a photograph of yourself? Perhaps with a chum?"

My mind raced. A photograph... of myself... and my friends? I had never once got such a gift like that. I still didn't quite believe it was true, but the professor never lied to me, and never offered more than he could give. I swallowed. "Could I invite my friends Avery and Gideon to be in the photograph with me, professor?"

"I've heard you mention their names before. One is your... coworker, is he not? This Avery chap. And the other is..."

My ears flattened as I had to remind the professor who Gideon was. "Remember about two years ago when you were going through my side o' town and you got swarmed by that group of street boys?"

Bensley snorted a little bit and seemed to puff his chest out. "How could I forget such an incident. They tried to rob me, threatened to stab me if I didn't give them my finery and money!"

"Ah, well," I said, rubbing the back of my head. "Gideon, he's their... um, leader. He's the guy in charge of the Howler Boys near the river."

Bensley stared at me for a moment, then sighed dramatically. "Simon, haven't I always told you that picking your friends has to be surgical? Precise? These Howler Boys cannot be good for your public standing."

"No, but Gideon is a good 'un. He's helped me out of a scrap or two, and he's kept the other gangs away from Alister and the other boys in the area. He's not bad. Just a bit rough around the edges."

Bensley lifted his arms up in defeat. "Very well, if he is who you wish to be photographed with, bring both of them by here the day after tomorrow. Tell them it can take a bit of time, too. It is not a quick process."

Bensley gave me one of those looks he always gave me and picked up the dish of sweets and held them out to me. I took two and had one already in my muzzle before I settled back in my chair. I was licking my lips when I heard the professor clear his throat.

"Now Simon, I know it is none of my business, but I want you to know you can always come to me for help. You did not look like you were running from a young girl's bedroom when I found you on the side of the road. You looked like a young man in trouble. Are you alright, my boy?"

I wasn't sure what to tell him. I looked down at my hands, curling my fingers together, the small cake resting on my knee since my hunger had died down.

"Alister," I finally said with a hitch in my voice, looking up at the raccoon, "he... he finally died. Happened so suddenly. We were only working together a week ago and he was making jokes... then... then I got home from being out with my friends, and..." I swallowed again, biting my cheek to push back the tears. Control yourself, Simon!

"Oh Simon, I am very sorry to hear that." Bensley's voice sounded genuinely sorry and sincere. "I met your Master Sweeper once. He was a fine man."

"A good 'un," I agreed through another hitched voice. "He was always so sick, but he never let us know just how bad. Only a couple of us really knew 'cause what else could we do for him? He couldn't lay in bed, and medicine is expensive. But he never wanted us to go hungry, so..."

"And who is taking care of you and your cohort now? You are next in line for his position, aren't you?"

"Y-yeah, but... I'm not really good enough yet. I have another year technically before anyone would take me seriously, an' I was gonna do it, but then Duncan stepped in. He's our Master Sweep now."

I could tell Bensley was going to ask a question, and I knew that if I said anything to him about what he was doing to us, Bensley would march down there and try to be a hero. While I didn't think Duncan would kill Bensley, I knew it wasn't beneath him to give the raccoon a bloody nose and a broken tail for his trouble. I had to change the subject.

"I saw Spring Heeled Jack," I said quickly, blurting it out so quickly my hand went up to my muzzle and my eyes were wide.

"You... saw Spring Heeled Jack? That cannot be. I saw him when I was a young man, decades ago! If you saw him he would be older than me and thrice infirm!"

"I know, professor!" I said in a desperate cry. I watched as Bensley was rolling up his sleeve and displayed the claw marks on his arm. It made me shudder when I remembered what I had seen that night. The terror that I felt. "But I saw him. He was following this bleeding tiger in a small courtyard, wearing this red-eyed mask, this claw, and naked as the day he was born. I watched him. He killed someone with those claws. I saw parts of his throat jus' go flying and hitting a wall. There was a lot of blood. And... And he saw me."

"He saw you?" Bensley said, sitting more forward in his chair, tail curling near and around his legs. "Did he give chase?"

"Iunno. When I saw the blood I ran until I got back to Alister's. I was so worried he was going to be there right behind me. All week I've been thinking he's just gon' be outside a window or nab me in an alley. I don't know where I saw him, the old side o' town. So far, I haven't seen him again, but... it was real."

Bensley picked up a small crystal paperweight from the small end table and began to roll it around in his hand. I knew that this was one of his habits when he was in deep thought. "Did you tell anyone what you saw?"

"Yeah," I said quietly, chewing my lower lip a little. I had my own nervous twitches. "Gideon, Avery, Billy... my friends. I didn't want them to get hurt." I swallowed. "Avery thinks we should tell the police."

"NO!" Bensley shouted, louder than I had ever heard him. He tossed the crystal onto his small table and walked over to me, crouching in front of me and holding my arms firmly, making me look into his eyes. "Whatever you do, Simon, do not mutter this story to anyone else, especially the authorities."

"Why?" I asked, now startled and scared again that Jack was going to come and murder me when I least expected it. "He's going around London... k... killing people."

"When I had my own encounter with this... thing..." he said, holding up his arm to show me the scars much closer than before. They were broad. He must have lost a lot of blood when he got them. "I told my father and the police. You know what happened? No one listened to me. Not then, not when others ended up dead in London from claw marks. My father..."

Bensley sighed, standing up to his full height. "In our world, the world of the nobility, things that embarrass you or your family can come back and haunt you for years. Father was the joke of the parties. He lost business and prestige. The Queen herself had heard about my little tale and had always been busy for almost seven years before she started to see my father again. It took a lot of hard work to rebuild his reputation. When I went to school and I was interviewed for university I was even asked about my tale of Jack. It still lingers on me, much like my scars."

"But I ain't no noble! What would I lose by tellin' the truth? You always tell me to tell the truth, Professor!"

"That means you have so much more to lose than I do, my boy." Bensley sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the arm rest of the sofa. "Three months ago, there was a string of stabbings not far from the mental institution in the city. They believe it was one of the patients who had managed to escape. Police are very, very wary of anything odd happening. And since you're -- and I am sorry to say this -- a lowly chimney sweep, you're more likely to fit the 'type' of people who are more prone to commit such crimes and be thrown into prison. It's easier to blame you and make a show that they're doing their job. Not to mention that you don't even have any proof. You would be in rooms with the insane and unstable. They would do horrible things to you, Simon." He stared into my eyes. "You cannot tell anyone else about what you saw."

"So then, what do I do...?"

"Nothing," Bensley said. "But I am going to ask some of my friends in the medical college if they know anything about the absent patient. If we can find a way to make it clear you didn't kill this man, evidence so unshakable, we may be able to convince the authorities to get involved and start an investigation into the matter. I am still wary that this Spring Heeled Jack is back from the shadows, but if what you explain to me is true, he sounds a lot like the creature I saw."

"Gideon's seen him too. When he was a pup," I added quickly, swallowing and picking up my tea to down it in one gulp. My throat had never felt so raw.

"Did he?" Bensley said, rubbing his chin. "When he comes over for your photograph I want to talk to each of you separately. We can try to find out if what we all saw is the same thing or different. The only thing I do ask is you do not discuss it with him even in private; our memories can be distorted over time as we keep remembering them. But for now, let us move on to a more enjoyable activity. Are you ready for your lesson? Of course you are."

Bensley didn't ask anything more. Instead, he picked up his thick book and took out the bookmark from between its pages. "Very well. This lesson is about etiquette on how to eat sweets during formal tea settings."

I groaned.

Bensley let me stay the night. He wouldn't let me leave and I didn't want to say no to a giant bed all to myself. I did get up at the peak of dawn. I did have work to do and I had to get ready for it. So I left the house early and ran all the way home. Duncan said I had to be gone for the whole night, but it was morning now.

I ran through the streets, grabbing an apple from a woman I passed who dropped it. I winked at her and bit into it as I ran, skidding and hurrying down allies and passages, going back home on muscle memory rather than direction. I had done this before, been out all night and had to be at the house before work started, lest I get a cuff on me ear.

For the first time in days, I felt like things were going to be alright. Professor Bensley was the smartest, kindest man I had ever known, and he was now aware of my secret. He was a man of wealth, connections and education and could move mountains to get answers when he wanted them. He would know what to do.

His offer about the photograph was also still fresh in my mind. I couldn't wait to tell Avery and Gideon about it! We would have to dress up; I know Avery had his nice church clothes but Gideon... I'm sure we could find something besides his vest. He wouldn't look like a noble wolf but he wouldn't stand out like the brawler he actually was. I was looking forward to it, even if it would be slightly uncomfortable in our nice outfits.

I blushed thinking about how handsome Gideon would look and how charming Avery would be. I wonder if we could each have a copy of the photograph. I don't see why not, but then this may as well have been magic in my eyes.

My walk home was probably the easiest, least stressful walk in months. I didn't think about anything bad -- not Alister, Duncan, Spring Heeled Jack, my friends who could get sick and die in the chimneys -- none of it crossed my mind. Just the thought of my closest friends being there with me and Bensley helping us figure out this whole Jack business. I was even smiling, lost in a moment where life fell into police nearly perfectly. It was bliss.

That was until I turned the corner and almost ran into a couple of guys from the House. They weren't part of my friends. One was a pale red fox and the other was some kind of weasel, but not a weasel. Mon...something. I couldn't remember.

"Ah! Simon!" the fox said, blinking. "There ye are! We been waitin'."

"Waitin' for me? It's still early yet. Work can't have started just yet, eh?" I said, swallowing as I finished off my apple.

The two looked at one another and then back at me. "No, Simon," the weasel-thing said, frowning. "It's Avery. He wen' out last night looking for you and he ain't come back yet. We think he's missing."