Head Of The Class

A story Train Contributed to by: LMRS, EmmyGirl, and Jawbone420

"Come one, come all," the barker cried. "And gaze at a beautiful, but grisly wonder! She was queen of her country. But oh how the mighty have fallen. Come and enter this tent to see the remnants of France's great beauty herself. Just a franc a ticket."

Emilia Rothschild stared at the line forming in front of the tent. "I don't believe this. It's a franc for a ticket! Can these people afford it?"

"They want to see for themselves," Jack replied. "It's what they always say, sister, 'Give the public what they want.'"

"But this is sick! It's disgraceful. Do the public really want such lurid entertainment?"

"What they want is evidence. The French Revolution wasn't that long ago. Someone finally showed up on Pulau Pulau with proof that it happened."

Em realized Jack was right. That's why she was on this line as well. To see if what she heard was true. To verify the claims of the barker.

She and Jack had to find out if this caravan was really carrying the head of Marie Antoinette.

Jack and Emilia walked inside the tent and found their seats. Compared to where other people were, they had great seats. They were sitting front row and center, right in front of the box. The box was made out of wood, with a carving that looked remarkably like Marie Antoinette on the front. This is discusting, Emilia thought. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to be having a great time. Emilia sighed. Americans. As long as she lived, shhe would never understand them. Anyway, the man next to her got up from his seat and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, let me show you the 8th wonder of the world.....Marie Antoinette's head! I know what you are thinking....is Marie really dead? Well, look for yourself!" With that comment, the man yanked away the lid of the box, and with a flourish, pulled out.......................

... the crowd fell silent as they starred at the object being presented before them. The object in question was being held by the man on stage, he held the hair tightly, so everyone could see it clearly. Jack was squemish when looking at what was believed to be the head of Marie Antoinette. The skin of the woman's head was pale, and and her eyes closed. At the base of the neck, there was a lot of dried blood, and it looked real enough. The crowd gasped when it first looked upon this terrifying wonder.

"Ewwww! I hope you don't look like that when you die baby." Jack said sarcastically.

"Don't worry my dear Mr. Stiles, I'm sure when you die, they won't be able to tell your head from your a..." The man on stage broke in before Emilia could finish. He was a well distinguished man, and held himself with posture and ellegance, as he spoke there would be no way you couldn't hear his thick french accent.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming this evening to bear witness to the eigth wonder of the world. We at French Mystic Enterprises or F-M-E, would like to thank you one more time, and please don't forget to purchase your 'Head of Marie on a T'- shirts as you exit on your left..Thank you again and good night."

The noise of the crowd was almost unbearable as Jack and Em exited the large tent, there was a lot of comotion. People were talking about the so-called head, and others were throwing up on the side of the tent, after seeing that horrific sight. Jack himself was a little weasy as he made his way through the horde of patrons, but Em was different, she wasn't the least bit sick, but incredibally suspicious.

"Jack, I don't think that was Marie Antoinett's head we saw."

"What makes you think that?" Jack asked, "As far as I could tell it was real."

"That's just the thing.." Em explained, "We weren't allowed to see the head up close, and the way the man just reached in and pulled it out by the hair, it just didn't seem, well, real. THe man also didn't seem to grossed out."

"So? Maybe he's been around the head so long that he doesn't notice it."

"Jack, don't dead bodies smell? And, if that;s her head, where id her body?" Em pondered.

Jack shrugged.

Emilia was sure of ine thing....this was not over yet. She would talk to the Governor and see what he thought of this "head of Marie Antoinette....."

***********

Governor Croque shrugged. "Truth to tell we have no idea what happened to the Queen's head after her turn in the Gullotine. There were too many dismembered heads to keep track of at the time. It was an appalling affair, Madame. One that is far to repugnant for your delicate ears."

"And you have no idea how it fell into the hands of this traveling troupe?" Em asked.

"Not the faintest. I myself would venture over and examine its authenticity, but to diginify such an affair that way would be demeaning to my status as governor."

"And allowing a con to go on under your nose would be better? That could be anyone's head they're passing off as the Queen's. And they could have gotten it by murdering its original owner."

Croque stirred. "I'd need proof of such an accusation."

"Proof that I might endeavor to get," Em said to herself as she left the governor.

***************

Jack awoke late at night to the sound of a door slamming shut. Emilia ran into the secret lab wearing a torn catsuit, and a lot of grime. Her breath was ragged as she leaned against a table and tried to compose herself.

Jack made no attempt to hide his concern as he ran to her side. "Em, what's wrong."

"I sneaked into the caravan, Jack. I had to get a good look at that severed head. To see if it was real. If it was indeed Marie Antoinette's.

"When I got there, the head was gone. The lights came on, and the caravan's security people were all around me. They thought I took the head. I barely escaped with my life."

Jack was livid. "For the love of God, sister! Why'd you have to stick your nose in this mess? It's just a carny act. It wasn't a threat to king and country. We didn't have to bother with it!"

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Jack," Em gasped. "Right now they're still searching for me. They had a good look at me, and it won't be long before they figure out who I am and where I live. I must hide out in the lab for now."

"And I must find the severed head," Jack added. "If this ain't a job for the Daring Dragoon, I don't know what is."

***********

The next day, the news had spread around the town that somwone had snuck into the cavern to see if the head was real. The people from the cavern went to see the Govenor. They described the person who had vandalized the tent. "My goodmess!" Cropque gasped, "That sounds like Madame Emilia. Blond hair, blue eyes, arched eyebrows, Brittish accent. Yes, there is no one on the island who that could apply to but Madame Emilia. The description fits her perfectly, and she is the only one on the island who is Brittish and has an accent." Croque was positive that the vandal was Madame Emilia. After all, she had only the other day asked himn about the head. Croque dismally walked the rest of the tent crowd to her house. Wait a minute, Croque thought, There might be a way to save Madame Emilia yet!!!

*************

"Oh no you don't!" The owner of the caravan raged at the Governor's suggestion. "We made an agreement! The purchase of the head was to be our secret. Nobody was to know that I had sold it to you."

"But sir," Croque croacked. "A friend of mine is being accused of stealing it. If we let the public know that the head was not in the tent for her to steal, that it was in my possession at the time, Madame Rothschild will be free of these charges."

"I'd prefer it if my troop thought the head was stolen," the manager admitted. "If they learn that I sold our greatest attraction, they might replace it with my head."

Then a laugh was heard from a darkened corner of Croque's office. Into the light swaggered the Daring Dragoon himself. "You know Croque, I'd love to make a pun about 'giving head' right now, but I think it would be too obvious. So I'll just ask you this point blank. Why in the name of God did you buy a severed head?"

Croque shook his own head. "I swear to you, it was my brother Napoleon's idea. He wants Marie Antoinette's head hanging from a pole outside his palace. Proof that the monarchy, any monarchy, is no match against him. He coarsed me to perform this unholy deed."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," tisked the Dragoon. "And you didn't even check your property. Otherwise you would have known the head wasn't that of Marie Antoinette."

Croque's jaw dropped. "Sacre?!"

"He's lying," The manager fumfered. "I wouldn't steer you wrong."

"Why don't you check the head yourself, Croque?" The Dragonon said, "You know what the old queen looked like. You can I.D. her no problem."

Croque didn't want to look at the remains. He was sure his stomach wouldn't take it. But the Dragoon's argument was too persuasive. He opened the box on the table nearby, and took a good look.

"I have never seen this poor woman before in my life. It is not Marie Antoinette." said Croque before he passed out.

"That's ridiculous," the manager cried. "It must be Marie Antoinette!" He looked over at the Dragoon. "I myself was there when she was guillotined. I sneaked over to the pile of heads they had collected. I reached in, grabbed hers, and ran off without anyone seeing me. I know I got the right head."

The Dragoon nodded. "I know you got a similar head. And it's easy to make a mistake like this, if you didn't know the queen personally. It wasn't your fault, really. You did the best you could."

Suddenly, the door burst open and in marched Captain Brogard and his troops. "I couldn't help but overhear some of this conversation. I was wondering, Monsieur, if your caravan would do well with the head of the Daring Dragoon on display as a new attraction."

Captain Brougard yanked his sword out of the holder of his pants and then gasped in shock as ............ba ba bum ba... his pants fell down!!!!!

Croque regained conciousness and walked over to the caravan mangager.

"What is happening?"

"Brogard stormed in with some of his troops," the manager replied. "He's about to engage the Dragoon in some swordplay as soon as he pulls up his pants."

"Oh, how lovely," Croque smiled. "You really have to watch one of these duels. They're quite exciting. Now, you'll notice that the Dragoon is patiently waiting for Brogard to pull up his pants. He's not going to make any move against him. How gallant.

"Now the two start the fight. Notice how their swords clash in movements that are most ballet-like. Such poetry. You know, if I could manage it, I would have them stage this before a paying audience. I bet I could even charge a franc a seat.

"And all through the fight, the Dragoon is mouthing off quip after quip. I must admit that some of these one-liners go over my head. They are entertaining enough. And they serve to madden Brogard, and throw him off-guard.

"Now the Dragoon has once again bested Brogard. With a hearty laugh, he leaps out the window. Oh, poor Brogard. Well, maybe next time. And there will be a next time, I can assure you. Sometimes I think the two antagonists look forward to their battles."

**************

"I've talked to the caravan owner," Emilia said later in the comfort of her secret lab. "He's dropped charges against me now that he has the head back. He also explained how he kept the head from rotting. He was using a preservation process he learned from Napoleon's army. A process they use to store food supplies for long periods of time." She noticed that Jack wasn't really listening. He was just standing there looking at nothing in particular. "Jack? How did you know that wasn't Marie Antoinette's head? You never saw the Queen when she was alive."

Then realization dawned on her. "You became queasy after seeing the head. That's not like you, Jack. You're battle hardened from the American Revolution. No doubt you've seen far worse in you life."

Emilia walked over to her American partner. "Jack? You know who that woman was, don't you?"

Jack kept staring at nothing. "Her name was Melissa Monroe, and she was one of our best agents. She was assigned to keep an eye on the French aristocracy. The last time I saw her was the night before she left for Paris. Her last report was dated two days before the Bastille was stormed. We never heard from her again. The secretary disavowed any knowledge of her actions. You know, it's funny. She did look aristocratic herself. I can understand the confusion they all had."

Jack turned to look at Emilia. "I've just committed a breach of security by telling you all this. You must never repeat it, especially to your own government. Do I have your word on that?"

Emilia paused in her thoughts. Really, it was her duty to report her knowledge of the actions of an American spy in France. But considering the sad fate of said spy, it offended her to follow through on that duty. And she could see the hurt in Jack's eyes. She couldn't tattle on him. Yes, this matter should be their secret.

"Thank you for telling me all this, Jack Stiles. You have my word as a lady, and as a human being, that what you said won't go beyond this room."

Jack nodded, and went back to staring at nothing. Emilia left him alone in the lab. Alone with the ghosts in his mind.

The End¹