The Mercutio Problem by Carol Anne Douglas

Author:Carol Anne Douglas [Douglas, Carol Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732789937
Publisher: Hermione Books
Published: 2019-05-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

AT HOME AFTER SCHOOL, Beth peeled carrots and washed broccoli to sauté when her mother came home. That would be a nice surprise for her mother.

Then Beth went upstairs. She had time for a journey to London. She hoped she wouldn’t wind up in the Thames.

She almost smashed against a tall building, and wound up on London Bridge. She could scarcely see the river from the bridge because there were so many tall buildings on it. The sun was setting, but the buildings obscured her view.

She was Ben again. Sometimes changing roles so fast dizzied her. Her vision blurred.

“Honey cakes! Fresh baked honey cakes,” an old woman called. “Honey cakes with cinnamon. Only a penny, but worth more.”

Beth had bought one of the woman’s honey cakes once before, and it had tasted good. She had paid tuppence then. The woman had lowered her prices. Beth thought a snack before dinner wouldn’t hurt her.

“I’ll take one,” she said, reaching into her pocket for a penny.

“A growing lad like you needs two,” the old woman coaxed her. “Do you have tuppence?”

“Not now, thank you,” Beth said. She paid and took a bite out of the honey cake.

Someone grabbed the cake out of her hand and knocked her down.

She saw a grubby boy her age or a little older. They recognized each other. He was the boy who a few months earlier had tried to get her arrested for a theft his gang had committed.

“You!” they both exclaimed.

He kicked her, and she fell.

“This is the turd what left us holding the bag,” he said to another boy.

The other boy moved to kick her. She grabbed his leg and threw him off balance.

The first boy was about to kick her when someone gave him a roundhouse kick, knocking him to the ground. Someone in Renaissance London knew karate.

Hands pulled Beth up. “Run,” a familiar voice said.

Beth needed no urging. They both ran down London Bridge to Southwark. They barely managed to avoid vendors’ stalls and carts drawn by horses and oxen. They had done nothing wrong, but escaping was the safest move since the boys were bigger than they were.

When they passed huge Nonsuch House with its heads of executed prisoners stuck on pikes, Beth and her rescuer stopped to catch their breath.

Beth looked at the face of her rescuer. “How did you get here?” she asked Sita. Sita was also dressed like a boy—like Beth, a well-to-do boy with a fine linen jacket.

“I’m not here.” Sita darted away. She ran among passers-by and was lost in the crowd.

Beth hoped that Sita wouldn’t be in danger because of her brown skin. It was a good thing that Sita was dressed as a boy.

Beth saw a cluster of large birds near the river bank. She moved closer to get a better look. The reddish birds were sinking their beaks into a man’s dead body. She gagged and turned away.

“Hope I don’t get et by those red kites,” said a passing beggar, shaking his head.

Beth put her hand over her mouth.

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