This Ruddy Xylophone
By Clinton Morgan
- 1018 reads
Charles Ives an insurance broker went on a vacation without his wife, Harmony to post-communist Prague. After eating a Knickerbocker glory and drinking a litre of cannabis absinthe he decided to stroll on the egg bound King Charles Bridge to listen to the buskers that filled its entire length. Buskers that would magically transform into brand new buskers when The Disappointing Clock would strike on the hour every hour. Mr. Ives was moved by a blind soprano who followed her notes by Braille. After listening to her he went on to a bald skinny chap in a vest who could play Les Six numbers on the spoons. This caused Mr. Ives to smile sweetly. By the time it came to five minutes before the next hour the insurance broker was at the centre of the bridge witnessing a rather grumpy individual that had a peculiar regal air about him. He had a crown on top of his turban, a pair of spherical striped trousers, a moustache that pointed in different directions and a pair of long skinny shoes that too pointed in different directions. This funny looking fellow that looked like an illustration from ‘One Thousand and One Nights’ was sat upon a barrel of Double XX ale playing with supreme virtuosity a xylophone and did not appear to be happy about it. It was only a minute to go before the magical transformation on the King Charles Bridge. Would the blind soprano mutate into a hurdy gurdy player? Is the spoonsmith likely to evolve into a ukulele orchestra? Then The Disappointing Clock chimed the hour and something happened…but also nothing did. For the xylophone player remained where he was continually playing the xylophone. Mr. Ives was perplexed he turned round and walked over to the other side of the bridge. He would find out about the xylophone player a bit later after dining on goulash. Nevertheless I will tell you my friend; the xylophone player is none other than Great King Xerxes.
A long, long time ago before your great-great grandparents’ great-great grandparents were born reigned a terrifying monarch who ruled with an iron fist. All bowed down to him in trembling fear. Even his statue was frightening. To hear him would be to obey him. When he woke then everybody in his kingdom would have to wake. At the top of the tallest tower someone would blow a gargantuan alpine horn to get his subjects to rise. Great King Xerxes had no wives as he did not desire to share his power. He rarely sat on his throne but preferred to stand on his balcony with his legs astride and with his arms folded surveying his kingdom looking for anything that displeased him.
Now he was always displeased, playing complex yet melodically accessible tunes on a percussion instrument. It was ONE AM when Charles Ives returned to The King Charles Bridge. There the monarch still was striking notes with his little mallets. Charles Ives wondered how he was able to do this. How did he have the stamina and if he did not enjoy playing the xylophone then why didn’t he throw in the towel and go off and eat dumplings somewhere? It was time to ask this supremely talented musician some pressing questions.
Back in King Xerxe’s golden period the monarch wanted some way to permanently keep everything in check. He had no offspring so there was no bloodline to carry on the monarchy. He did not trust his politicians or advisors as he believed that deep down they were corrupt and rotten to the core and pips. King Xerxes always put his faith in the occult and the practioners thereof. He consulted many practitioners, specialists and dabblers in the black arts but the one he entrusted most was a squat woman, fat and wrinkled with talcum powder white hair that reached down to her heels and teeth as yellow as amber. She went through life from the date of her birth without a name. This is due to her Anti-Christening and she has been bound in blood ever since. She would later wander the Earth with the intention of bringing great evil wherever she goes. You might have encountered such a woman. You might have encountered that very woman. Be very careful indeed. As she was letting the blood of a small furry creature leak out slowly into a chalice Great King Xerxes explained to her his dilemma. “It seems to me,” said the woman, “you are in want of having an eternal soul.”
Great King Xerxes told the woman off, “I do not like cryptic statements. Be straight with me you repulsive hag.”
“I have it in my power to make myself so attractive that you would fall in love and kill yourself with desire,” then she sighed, “but beauty is so overrated.” The Great King glared at the woman. It was a mixture of admiration and despising he had for her. Without her he would not have been so powerful and this provided him with immense insecurities. “Would you like to live forever?” Great King Xerxes told her yes. She asked him to come with her. The King was taken to a dresser that was stocked with cracked clay jars. A mortal perfume arose from those jars which made Great King Xerxes feel nauseous. “I keep these for very special occasions.” Explained the repulsive woman. King Xerxes wanted to know what was in them and in disrobing to reveal all the deep cuts on her naked body the old woman said, “What d’you think?” Great King Xerxes was terrified and called for his guards but she lifted up her left hand (it had a real human eye in the palm) and with occult power froze time outside the confines of her hovel. Waves froze in the air, flying flags were static and raindrops were in suspension. “If you want life eternal your majesty you can either do one of two things. You can drink the entire contents of these jars or I can suckle you. Blood or milk it won’t make any difference. My fluids would mix in with yours and you would be imbued with the Satanic spirits that give me my powers.”
“Won’t I forfeit any chance of salvation?” Asked King Xerxes.
“Pah! What does a man need of salvation? It is now time to drink.”
On the bridge Mr. Ives became scared when he heard that particular part of the story. He guessed almost correctly why the King ended up perpetually playing percussion but out of politeness he let the monarch carry on with his story. Great King Xerxes sat on a small three legged stool imbibing the old woman’s foul smelling and even fouler tasting blood from the clay jars. He drank from all the jars which were eighty in number and could contain a great volume. The ugly old woman smiled sweetly as she observed. After the last drink the monarch fell down drunk and had a screaming nightmare full of harpies, banshees, demons and warlocks. King Xerxes woke up screaming in the old woman’s bed but the naked King calmed down and fell back to his slumber in the vile bodied woman’s clammy embrace.
Time now ceased to be still. The sun arose over the kingdom and the monarch arose afresh with powers anew. He had no need for the woman and by way of gratitude he banished her from his kingdom. From without she would wander the Earth. Sometimes she would walk through the darkest fathoms of the oceans blue, causing unfortunate ships to meet their doom. Great King Xerxes ruled with cruelty for many millennia. While other nations evolved into their current condition his kingdom remained resolutely in what you and I would refer to as the past. No electricity, no petrol, no modernity.
During the period when your mother and father were children a helicopter landed in Great King Xerxe’s kingdom which caused many of his subjects to flee. Great King Xerxes saw this from his balcony and bellowed, “What is this? What is this? You dare run away from your King?” But he was also scared. A door of the helicopter opened and out stepped a gentleman of sophistication, charm and intelligence. “Good day to you Mr. Xerxes. I wonder if you’d like to take a little trip with me?”
“You disrespectful knave!” A stubborn King Xerxes shouted. This made the charming gentleman furious. “The damned have no right to retort!” He cried and raising his left hand he made the monarch levitate from his balcony and by closing his fingers the monarch came straight down to him.
Now Great King Xerxes came to the conclusion of his tale of damnation. Charles Ives learnt that the helicopter landed on the Vltava River and there, smaning, the gentleman told him what he had to do. Great King Xerxes was doomed to be sat on a barrel of Double XX ale playing the xylophone for all eternity whilst his inner being suffered an infinite amount of torments without relief. “You have to understand Mr. Xerxes,” explained the gentleman, “to give you what you want is of great cost to us in terms of allocating you some of our power. So it has to be a case of what the English call ‘tit for tat’. Oh I know you look puzzled but you will work it out. In fact you’ll work many things out.” And the gentleman disappeared into the King’s soul forever chuckling.
Charles Ives walked back to his hotel and did not sleep that night. In fact he did not sleep many a night.
© 2009 Clinton Morgan
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