Chapter 1 Part IV

He heard Famba mumble something, but despite all of Tura’s training in eavesdropping, he couldn’t make out what she said. Having lost the conversation Tura’s mind started to wander until he heard footsteps, footsteps as though they coming toward him. Faster and faster, louder and louder. Were they coming toward Famba’s car? Oh, if Tura was seen Famba’d surely wallop him with her fan, or worse, her purse. He didn’t know if he could bear another walloping. He ducked down lower, and lower. But then to his horror he saw it; someone was rapping on his window.

Tura looked up. There behind the glass of the backseat window was the man, Maxamillian. His sophisticated voice didn’t match his gauche appearance. He wasn’t well groomed, nor did he look like he came from the upper crust. He was a large man with a great brown moustache that made up for his lack of hair atop his head.

“Hello there.” He said in a voice that somewhat more pleasant than the one he used with Famba.

“Archibald? Archibald? Be a dahling and let little—little—“

“Boy?” Max said revealing a crooked, yellow smile.

“Yes—it—I mean the boy, out of the car.”

Tura sat dumbfounded. What was Famba doing? Normally Famba banished him to the fourth floor when company arrived and when given the chance to go for a drive he was normally given a blanket to hide under. Perhaps this Maxamillian was a new worker who would join Ms. Penniworth and the staff. But that couldn’t be, Famba never talked so kindly to the staff.

Tura tried straightening his shirt. Famba always said he was a mess of a thing and he needed to straighten up.

“Well then, you must be Tura, Famba’s nephew.” Maxamillian said with a slight smile.

“Well sir, I’m not—“ Tura attempted to correct him.

“Ah, ah ah. You must address Mr. Maxamillian by his proper name.” Famba jumped in smacking into Tura with a black briefcase that Tura had never seen before. Tura knew that she wasn’t being honest with Maxamillian, because as far as Tura knew, he wasn’t the nephew of Famba or Archibald. He was just another one of Famba’s servants. How he got into her care was unknown, but he knew he wasn’t anything more than a servant just as Famba told him.

“Oh its quite alright. Now listen Tura, I’m sure Fracessca has told you everything you need to know, so let’s be off. You’ll sit in my car now.”

Tura wasn’t sure if he should hug this man for saving him from the horrible smelling Ford or run away from him down the abandoned street. Perhaps it was Tura’s disdain for Famba, or perhaps it was his curiosity about Maxamillian, but something inside of Tura told him to go with Maxamillian. Tura took three steps toward Maxamillian and didn’t say another word.