“Mud mud mud,” Barry said.
“I say, chaps,” Turnip said, face running with filth. “There I was, lying in my bog minding my own business with the worms and microbes when all of a sudden, I found myself tall and thinking of things I can’t quite explain. What is happiness?” A piece of his head sloughed off onto the ground with a wet splat.
“I love you, Turnip,” Lucy said, swaying side to side.
“This is unacceptable,” Miss Marblemaw snapped, pushing her way through the children. “You can’t just give dirt life.”
“Actually,” Talia said, “dirt is teeming with life, so. You can trust me on that because I’m an expert.”
“She’s right,” Phee said. “Everything has life in it.” She sneezed. Strangely, it sounded like except DICOMY inspectors.
“Semantics,” Miss Marblemaw said with a ferocious glower. “I can’t believe I have to be the voice of reason here. Can’t you see how—how blasphemous this is?”
“Your definition of blasphemy is very different from ours,” Talia said.
“That’s an understatement,” Sal said.
“They’re just mud,” Chauncey said, gazing adoringly up at Barry, who poked his own face, muddy finger sinking all the way in. “There’s nothing wrong with mud.”
“There is when it’s given sentience,” Miss Marblemaw retorted. She glared at Arthur. “Are you just going to stand there and let this happen? For someone who claims to want to be a father, you sure are doing everything to keep that from happening.”
The fire rose within him again, insistent, furious at the temerity of this person. But it did not burn as fiercely as it had even a few days ago.
Which was why he said, “Madam, I am already a father. Not even one such as you can take that away from me.”
“Hello, there!” Turnip called, looking at David. “You seem like a fine fellow. Can you help me? Why is it that a goose can be geese but a moose can’t be meese?”
“No one knows,” David said. In a lower voice, he whispered, “Turnip talked to me. I love this place.”
“Can’t I?” Miss Marblemaw asked. “Because I thought that’s exactly what my position allows.” She pulled herself to her full height as the mud men and woman turned toward her. “You think yourself so smart, Mr. Parnassus. And you are, I’ll give you that. However, your intelligence has blinded you to the reality of your situation. You see these children as nothing but that: children. And while they certainly are young, it is becoming abundantly clear that your control over them is nothing but an illusion. Children running amok without supervision—”
“I’ll give her that,” Lucy said. “I amok all over the place.”
“—and that doesn’t even begin to cover what you’re teaching them. How could they possibly hope to have any success in life when you fill their heads with fanciful talk of a future that will never be? You are doing them a disservice. You and Miss Chapelwhite and Mr. Baker. You flout DICOMY guidelines as if they don’t pertain to you, you insist on including classroom materials and studies that aren’t sanctioned. In all ways that matter, you are an employee of the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. Or have you forgotten that?”
“I haven’t,” Arthur said as Turnip exclaimed over the color of the sky, saying he’d never seen anything so blue. “Thank you for bringing that up. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about it.” Zoe squeezed his arm, a silent gesture of support. “I hereby tender my resignation as master for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth.”
Miss Marblemaw gaped at him. “You what?”
“He quits,” Linus said, marching by her to stop in front of Arthur. “Well played, my love. Let me be the first to congratulate you on such a tremendous decision.” He kissed Arthur soundly as the children hooted and hollered.
“I don’t like her,” Turnip said to Barry and Janet. “She reminds me of that raccoon who won’t stop defecating in our swamp.”
“Mud?” Barry asked.
“I agree,” Turnip said. “She might even be that raccoon in disguise. I’m not quite sure if raccoons can take human form. She certainly looks like a raccoon pretending to be human.”
“Mud,” Janet said, punching a fist into her palm.
“You pooped in their swamp?” Chauncey asked Miss Marblemaw. “Can I tell you a secret? I pooped in the ocean and pretended it came from a dolphin, so don’t feel too bad.”
“I knew it!” Phee yelled.
“You did not!” Chauncey yelled back.
“You can’t quit,” Miss Marblemaw snapped.
“Funny, then, that I did just that,” Arthur replied. “I am not beholden to DICOMY. None of us are.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Miss Marblemaw said. She shook her head. “I’ve seen enough. From the moment I stepped foot on this island, all you’ve done is lie and obfuscate to hide the truth behind your pretty words.”
“Papa?” Talia asked, tugging on his hand. “Why is Miss Marblemaw flirting with Dad? Doesn’t she know he loves you almost as much as he loves us?”
“Your dad is quite the catch,” Linus said. “It’s the socks, you see.”
Miss Marblemaw’s face was the color of an overripe tomato. “I’m not flirting. I’m trying to— No. I won’t be pulled into your ridiculous word games again. You can’t trick me. None of you can. I see you for what you are. You are an infection spreading unchecked, sullying the hearts and minds of those you claim to care for, filling their heads with ridiculous nonsense. When are you going to tell them the truth? When are you finally going to be honest with the children?”
The phoenix awoke, offended by this woman who continued to breathe their air as if she had any right to. Arthur was in control, but it was close.
But the response did not come from him.
It came from Sal.
“Honest?” he said, stepping forward, Theodore growling on his shoulder. “You’re going after him for honesty? Who the hell do you think you are?”
Miss Marblemaw turned her head slowly toward him. “Excuse me?”
“Arthur Parnassus was the first person in my life to be honest with me,” Sal said. “He was the first person who made me believe that I could be anything I wanted to be.”
