Thursdays With Uncle Boom #59

I was still in 1990, seeking the answer to the odd time disturbance detected by Dobbers back in 2018...

I sat in the Gentleman's club drinking a fine brandy. The doorman on the front desk of the club had looked as if he was about to refuse me entry on account of me not being a member...

It only took a moderate thrashing with my cane and shouts about showing him a bloody member he wouldn't forget to make him relent and beg for forgiveness whilst offering me the freedom of the place.

I was waiting for my son, the young Boomy to join me for a drink. After meeting him the previous night and advising him I was his Uncle I had arranged this little meetup so we might get to know one another better.

Really all I was interested in was why the photo Dobbers had of me in 2018 seemed to show me fading away. That and what the bloody fuck young Boomy was doing cavorting on a boat in the middle of the night with peons?!

Singing about Whales?

A waiter approached and coughed like the dry vagina of a hungry stoat.

I looked up.

Excuse me milord but there are two... persons at the front desk saying they have arranged to meet you?

I curled my lip up at his floppy hair and pierced ears.

Send them in and fetch some more bloody Brandy or I will stick my pipe up your arse and set you on fire.

The waiter bowed several times as he slunk away.

I shook my head. Fucking idiots. The nineties were full of them. Aggravating bastards.

A thought occurred to me. Two of them... What did he mean, two of them? I was only expecting young Boomy. I hoped he wasn't bringing one of the Whale loving peons he had been fraternising with the night before?

Uncle Boom! Hello old fellow! Jemima, this is my very esteemed Uncle, the one I was telling you about!

Young Boomy strode towards me, holding his hand was one of the peons from the boat. A girl it looked like. I attempted to stop my eyebrows leaping off my face and running away at her stupid fucking name.

I bade them sit and shook the young lady's hand.

Jemima, so pleased to meet you. I had a horse named Jemima once. She died of course. Please sit. Let me order you a brandy?

Jemima gave me a hard look as if I were a wet broom handle.

No thank you, Mr Boom. I will take a hibiscus tea if you have it?

This last was directed to the waiter who was loitering beside the table in a greasy fashion. He nodded his assent and scooted off. I reminded myself to kick him in the arse later for assumed foppery.

The tea duly arrived. My son and I imbibed the Brandy, taking out our pipes for a smoke and engaging in some small talk whilst Jemima faffed around with her cup of warm flower water.

After a little chit-chat, Young Boomy looked at Jemima and then to me.

Oh Uncle, it's so fortuitous that you should come into my life right now. Great things are afoot, great things! Jemima here, well, she is part of an organisation called Greenpeace, have you heard of it?

I shook my head. The only green-peace I had any familiarity with was my urine after a night on the Absinthe.

The peon Jemima-thing butted in.

We are an organisation dedicated to saving this dear green earth and all that lives on it. And we will achieve this by...

Alright Jemima, steady on.

I cut her off with a wave of my hand and took a suck of my pipe.

Young Boomy gave Jemima an embarrassed look before brightening suddenly and murmuring in a low voice.

Would you like to tell him or I?

Jemima muttered back as if I was a deaf dog pissing itself.

He's your Uncle, you tell him.

Young Boomy took a hold of Jemima's left hand and lifted it up to show me the ring she was wearing on her wedding finger. Oh, I got it now. The young scamp was tupping someone else's wife.

I chortled with a little pride.

Jemima and I are to be married, Uncle Boom. I have vowed to donate all my monies to the cause and will be adhering to the pacifistic principles of the movement in order to protect this dear green planet for generations to come! We are going to sail the seas, save the whales and do it all... Together!

I choked mid-chortle. A sudden coldness gripped at me like a penguins cock. He wanted what? To give away his fortune? Become a pacifist? He wanted to save the fucking Whales?!?

Does that mean you won't be hitting anyone with that fine cane of yours?

I attempted to joke, slightly disgusted by the tremor in my own voice.

Young Boomy laughed.

Jemima thinks I should bloody snap the thing as a symbol of my break with the past. I think she is quite right.

He turned his eyes onto Jemima who smiled at me before reaching out and patting the young Boomy's knee.

Yes darling. Every new beginning needs a grand gesture and what better way to show your repudiation of all this kind of thing?!

She waved a hand mockingly at the gilded interior of the Club.

And when, when is this wedding to be?

I said hoarsely.

Tomorrow!

They exclaimed in unison.

I looked to Jemima.

Please, my lady. Let me celebrate a little with Young Boomy here. Just a little before he lays aside this life of his for another. I promise I shall return him to you whole and hearty this evening.

She nodded and stood to leave, kissing her husband-to-be on the cheek and bade us both farewell until later.

I turned to Young Boomy.

Now young man, let us celebrate this occasion in style!

I called for a bottle of Macallan. Then thought better of it and shouted at the waiter.

Make that two!

Wake up dammit! Wake up man, for the love of god! YOUNG BOOMY... WAKE UP!!!

I roughly slapped the Young Boomy awake from his drunken stupor. He stirred slightly, with a moan.

WAKE UP MAN!

I shook him as a dog would at a bent up cock in a mitten.

He came to.

Wazzup? What is it? Why the hell are you shaking me so? Oh my head... Wait, goodness Uncle Boom, what happened to your face? Is that blood?

I nodded grimly and fell back on my haunches. The room we were in stank of it. Young Boomy winced as he sat up rubbing his head.

God, what happened. I remember playing Barney's Jar with you and those other fellows but after that, I must have blacked out. What happened. Why are you covered in blood, are you hurt?

I was indeed drenched in the stuff. Blood matted my hair and arms, some of it still sluicing down from a long cut in my scalp.

I made a choking noise and motioned to the bloodied bodies behind him in the room.

I'm sorry. I tried to fight them. There were too many, a great big gang of peons. You were out for the count and I dragged you back to where you were staying. To my complete horror, there was a frightful commotion in the room. I left you in the hall and leapt in to find a crazed gang of peasants attacking your Greenpeace friends. They were shouting about Jemima marrying you and how that made them traitors...

I paused and raised a hand to my brow to staunch the bleeding from the cut on my scalp.

I tried to stop them but they were hungry for blood. I'm afraid they killed her. They killed your betrothed, dearest Jemima and your other friends, It was over so quickly. The grubby peons, they kept shouting about traitors and how she and your friends were tainted by knowing you...

Young Boomy howled in anguish and dropped to his knees over the butchered body of what had once been his beloved.

Nooooooooo!! Noooooo, not my dear Jemima?!?! Nooooo!!

It was several days later. I shook the Young Boomy's hand.

And so I must bid you farewell, young man. I wish we could have parted in happier circumstances.

I do too, Uncle. I do too.

I raised my arms and gathered him in a Fatherly embrace. I whispered hoarsely into his ears.

Those grubby peons that did it. I will not rest until I find them. I will avenge your lady. Damn! It just goes to show you can never trust a bloody peon. Foul creatures.

Young Boomy stepped back from our embrace. His face was pale but resolute.

I fucking hate them Uncle, I fucking hate those peons. Fuck it, I hate all peons. They will bloody well pay. All of them.

I patted his shoulder.

Yes, young man, as it should be. Well, I really must be going now.

Young Boomy looked forlorn.

It seems, so final, this parting of the ways. I have only just met you and yet it feels like I never will again... Will we? Will our paths cross ever again, Uncle Boom?

I smiled fondly at him.

Ah young Boom. A gentleman never tells...

Young Boomy nodded grimly.

I like that, Uncle. I like that very much...

He nodded and murmured to himself.

Yes...