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CHAPTER ELEVEN
MISS EZEDERADA
The next chamber was not the stark cellar room that Tim Bradley had expected.
Far from it.
Instead, it looked as though they had just knocked down the wall of Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe. At the very least, it seemed to be some sort of room filled with antique chairs, lamps, mirrors, knick-knacks, doo-dads, and whatnots, to say nothing of whatsits! In the very middle of the room, sitting in a creaky old rocker was a creaky old lady with a very large black cat square in the middle of her ample lap, purring as it was petted.
“Come in, come in, you two! I’m not going to bite! I promise!” she said, with a reasuring matronly smile. “I can’t thank you enough for knocking down that stupid, silly wall! I was just thinking about trying to start chipping away at with one of these sweet little antique sledgehammers over there, and that wouldn’t have been very ladylike, now would it?” Even though she was old and wrinkled, she was somehow very pretty, with a wealth of blonde curls above her head and a set of healthy white teeth behind a brilliant smile.
Her eyes were bright blue. She fairly glowed with kindness, only dimmed by the paleness of being inside for so long.
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Tim liked her immediately. He had the feeling that not only was she of no harm to them, she might even be of help!
Simon evidently had the same impression. Tim could sense him relaxing his guard. “However do you find yourself down here, madam?” he asked politely. If Simon had been wearing a hat, Tim suspected that the valiant hero would have taken it off.
The old woman’s eyes fairly glittered with good humor. “Well, now, there’s an intresting story for you! But first things first! My name is Ezederada Perkins. And pray tell, who are these old eyes gazing upon?” Tim and Simon introduced themselves.
“Simon Belmont! Well, hush my puppies! You wouldn’t remember this, but I dandled you on my knee when you were just knee-high to a bat.” Ezederada put her hand up to her mouth. “Oh, dear. How unfortunate a term. Especially in these circumstances!”
“Go ahead with your story!” urged Tim.
“Oh, dear, of course. How I do go on sometimes.” She gigled almost girlishly.
“You must understand, that I am the care-taker of Berkeley Mansion..”
“Caretaker!” said Tim, unable to hide his surprise. Immediately he was embarrassed about his blurting out, but by the look of amusement in Ezederada Perkins’s eyes, he could see that she didn’t take it as an insult.
“Not what you think, Tim! You see, I take care that Berkeley Mansion looks ramshackle! I distribute the cobwebs, the dust, and the clutter just so. A work of art, I say, and it took years to get it this way! And now, that rascal Dracula has me locked down here, unable to appreciate my own handiwork!”
“However, thanks to you all, I am now free again! I can go up and drift through my lovely rooms and enjoy the delightful dilapidation!”
“That’s all very well and good, Ezederada Perkins,” said Simon. “However, we must tell you that we are on a very important quest!”
“Oh, yes, of course! You must be after the rib of Dracula. Well, it’s downstairs, and you’re welcome to it as far as I’m concerned. It’s caused me absolitely nothing but a head-ache. The way it pounds on its drum some-times!”
“Pounds on a drum?” said Tim.
“Yes, well, it hasn’t got much else it can do, being just a rib and all. And I must say, it must feel a bit isolated without the rest of Dracula to keep it company. So it’s got this silly drum and sometimes it pounds on it. What do you think? You think maybe it reminds it of the beat of its owner’s heart?”
“I wouldn’t think that Dracula had a heart!” said Tim.
“Oh, yes, and that is one of the things we must find,” said Simon. “A heart, yes, but definitely a ver black heart!”
“Yes, well, I daresay,” said Ezederada.
“None of my business. But anything I can do against Count Dracula will do my heart good!”
“How can you help us then?” asked Simon.
“Hmmmm. Let me see,” Ezederada stroked her double chin. “Well, for starters, I can tell you how to get down safely to where the rib is located. And I suppose I might give you what you need to take the rib safely. Tricky business at best, that, and mind you, Count Dracula’s minions may be stupid, but the count himself isn’t. he’s set up some safeguards for his rib!”
“We are prepared.”
“Sorry, cat, but you’re going to have to get off,” said Ezederada, gently lifting the fat cat from her lap and placing it down on the floor. “Now then, let’s see what we’ve got here!”
She turned her attention to a pile of junk in the middle of the room, pulling this out, pushing that aside.
“Sewing scissors. No. thread. Won’t help. Curling iron. Maybe with Dracula’s hair, but not his rib!” She pulled out an old boot, a hat, a bicycle pump. “You find some strange things in haunted houses,” she explained. “Even ghosts sometimes. Ah! What do you know! Here’s something I think you’ll be able to use – a stake!”
Tim blinked. “what, to eat after we cook it on the barbecue with the rib?”
“No, no. you clearly think in puns, young man. An unhealthy habit. No.” She held up a length of wood. A stake! Oh, thought Tim. That kind of stake! It was long and had one blunt end and one pointed end.
“This is the kind of stake you’ll need to deal with Dracula!” said the old woman.
She thrust it into Simon’s hands. “Go down the staircase past that door. Take a left at the bottom and watch out for the troll.
“You’ll see the dungeon to your left. There are skeletons hanging from chains. That’s how you’ll know you’re in the right dungeon. Get past whatever monsters lurk down there, climb the steps, touch the rib with the stake – and hey, it’s all yours. Bring it up here, dearies, so I can have a look at it, all right?” She started going through the junk on the floor again, humming a tune to herself, suddenly totally oblivious to the presence of the two heroes in her room.
“You’ll give us more directions when we get back?”
“Hmmmmmm?” She turned around, smiling happily upon them. “Well, of course I will, loves! And also, there might be another goody or two that I unearth from this pile with your names on it. Toddle off now, then! Have a good time. Mind the monsters! Oh, and if you see the spirit of Dracula pop up, give the old blaggard my worst, will you?” With that, Ezederada Perkins turned her attention back to her work.
“Off then!” said Simon Belmont, pointing with the stake toward the door. “To the dungeon!”
“To the dungeon with a bludgeon!” said Tim Bradley. And off they went.
If the previous part of Berkeley Mansion had been dirty, then the dungeons below could be called absolutely, undeniably and irrefutably, totally filthy.
In short, a real mess.
“Maybe we should fire up the torches again, huh?” said Tim, chilled to the bone with the cold gloom into which they were descending.
“No. we shall make do with the white crystal. Look! See how nicely it glows, so close to the stake! This oaken stake must have magical properties as well. Good magical properties!”
“Well, all I can say is that I wish the good Lady Litter had given us a magical heater!”
“You are beginning to complain too much, Timothy Bradley! Did you think that a quest of this nature would be comfortable?” Tim thought about that. True. When he sat down for a game of Castlevania, it was usually in his temperature-controlled room at home, be it air-conditioned or heated.
“All I can say is this experience certainly makes me appreciate heroes more!” He rubbed his rumbling stomach. “Especially hero sandwiches. Boy, could I use one right now, with some ham and cheese, salami and lettuce, tomato…and gee, don’t forget the hot peppers! Hold the mayo!”
“You are a very strange young man!” said Simon. Tim laughed. He thought about digging into his pack for another hunk of chocolate, but he’d eaten so many already that he had to admit that even in this frightening and suspenseful moment, he couldn’t possibly in-dulge himself in another.
It was on the lower level, just where the lady caretaker had told them to expect it, that Tim and Simon encountered the troll.
It was not quite what they had expected.
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