Humpty
Dumpty sat on the wall and looked gloomily down the road.
Humpty was not happy. In fact, he was so
far from happy that people with mild depression crossed the road and turned
their heads away in order not to become suicidal at the sight of him. He was so
far from happy that condemned prisoners turned cartwheels and broke into joyous
songs at how much better off they were than he. He was so unhappy that Mrs
Humpty, unable to tolerate him any longer, had ordered him out of the house
until he could cheer up enough not to turn the air blue.
"Don't you sit on the wall, either," she had shouted after him, loud enough for all the neighbours to hear. "One of these days you'll fall and break in half. Don't expect me to feel any sympathy for you."
Humpty grimaced, thinking of that. Falling off the wall would probably be the best thing that could happen to him.
Humpty’s problems were many and, to all
appearances, insoluble. He was in hock up to the crown of his hairless head,
and had no prospect of paying off the debt. He’d been laid off at work because
his company had been taken over, and he had no savings left. A stock scam had
taken almost all of his investments, and his last attempt at getting hold of
money from somewhere had collapsed without anything to show for his efforts.
Even lookswise he had nothing going for
him. As bald as he was pale, as fat as he was clumsy, he had absolutely no
charm, no charisma, nothing. Hell, kids yelled at him in the street, shouting that they'd make him into an omelette. People wondered why his beautiful wife still stuck
with him. Even Humpty wondered, sometimes. But she was a high-maintenance
woman, and he hadn’t been able to provide much maintenance recently. So losing
her was becoming a more distinct possibility by the day.
Humpty had just one last hope, and, sitting
on the wall, he was thinking about it. It was a desperate shot, but he had to
try.
Far down the long white road into town, he
saw a pall of dust. It was the sign he’d been waiting for. He’d have to move
fast.
Inching forwards until he was balanced
precariously on the edge of the wall, he leaned forward to ensure that it was
the people he’d been looking for.
What happened next was perhaps inevitable.
******************************
The King’s
Cavalry Corps had been on a training ride, and now they were on their way home.
They rode easily in their saddles, tall men
in dust-streaked blue and red ceremonial uniforms, plumed metal helmets on
their heads and sabres at their waists. Coming round a bend, they drew their
horses to a sudden stop, gasping with involuntary horror.
A mangled body lay in the middle of the
road. Shattered white shards mixed with gelid material, in a scene of horror so
great that even the hardened cavalry troopers were shocked to the core.
They tried, though. Gathering around, they
did their best to put life back into that poor ruined shell. Even the horses,
poking around with their sensitive noses, tried – but it was far too late.
And as they straightened from their
labours, there was a sudden wail. Mrs Dumpty stood with her hands over her
mouth, eyes wide open, staring at what lay on the ground, and shrieking.
*************************
“Well,” said Humpty, “how do you like the seaside?”
“Very much, so far.” Mrs Dumpty sipped at
her daiquiri. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I never actually thought it
would work.”
“Frankly,” her husband said, “neither did
I when I first thought of it. But then I realised it might.” He stretched lazily. “I’m so glad I paid that last insurance policy
premium, even though I could barely afford it.”
“Still,” his wife said, “you took a real
risk. If they’d caught on to the fraud...”
“There was never a chance of that.” Humpty
smiled, with the happiness of one whose financial woes were taken care of
virtue a massive insurance payment. “They could never have suspected that it
wasn’t I lying on the road.”
“Why not?” asked Mrs Dumpty, frowning. “I
never could understand why you were so sure about that.”
“Elementary, my dear,” Humpty said. “There
is, you know, an advantage in being precisely as bald and obese as an egg.”
Copyright B Purkayastha 2012
