The Brother's Marx

Before a trio of more famous brothers belonging to a House of Marx became world famous, there were two brothers Marx who knew Quebec Castle well. They were Adolph and Burton, two brothers born nine years apart and now separated by allegiance. Adolph, the nineteen-year-old elder brother, had entered in Herr von Fell's employ while Burton, the ten-year-old younger brother, was very much loyal to Captain Smith, at whose residence he attended boarding school.

Driving his employer to Quebec Castle, Herr von Fell had allowed Adolph to follow him into the country house and so there did Adolph and Burton meet once more. When Burton led Adolph to see Alexander, now in the company of Nana Smith, Adolph looked at the caracal and asked: "Is he like Darius?"

"He is more affectionate, Adolph." Nana Smith said. "More vocal as well."

Looking to the old woman, the Elder Marx then asked: "Mrs. Smith... You aren't actually dying, are you?"

Laying her head back on the pillow, Nana Smith stroked Alexander and said: "Come sit, boys."

Both Adolph and Burton took a seat near Nana Smith, the elder boy on a nearby chair and the younger on the bed itself. Alexander stared at Adolph and then at Burton. How alike they looked and yet so different. Hair of gold, eyes of blue, yet even then they matched not. Both Adolph's hair and his eyes were darker. Indeed, his hair was bordering on brown while his eyes were so dark a blue, one would mistake them for black. Burton's hair and eyes on the other hand were lighter, not so much lighter that his hair bordered on white or that his eyes could be mistaken for white, but they were still lighter than his brother's. Their noses were aquiline, their skin like anyone else's of their background and they were quite average in build.

Making a chirping noise, Alexander looked to Burton as the boy started to pet him. Burton only smiled at the caracal as the feline laid his head down upon Nana Smith's lap.

"Are you actually dying, Mrs. Smith?" Adolph asked.

"Yes, Adolph. I am." Nana Smith answered, as she too began to pet Alexander. "I do believe my passing will be any day now. I have had this conversation with Alan more than once and I have told him that all that lives must eventually die. It is the way of all flesh as his dear father once said. Do you remember Mr. Carter?"

"I do." Said Burton, nodding.

"Yes." Adolph answered, taking on a solemn expression as he remembered reading the name of Alan's father among those killed by the Germans at St Eloi Craters.

Nana Smith closed her eyes for a moment before she said: "Boys, please know that always I will be with you. Alan, Ian and Hippolyta have not been my only grandchildren. All who have attended school here at Quebec Castle have been my grandchildren as well and ever shall I be with all of my family." Alexander looked up to Nana Smith and the old woman said: "I shall be with you as well, Alexander. When the Angel of Death comes, I will trade my life for yours."

"Do you believe he will come?" Burton asked. "In person, I mean."

"I do not pretend to know the ways of angels, Burton." Replied Nana Smith, looking up at the ceiling of her bedchamber. "I can only believe he will."

"How do you think he will look?" inquired Adolph.

"If the depictions of angels in the Bible are any indication, I daresay like something that no artist can ever dream up." There was scorn in Nana Smith's voice when she had spoken. Scorn for the artists who could only ever depict angels as humans with white, feathery wings. Did not Ezekiel make mention of angels resembling a wheel intersecting a wheel?

All this Alexander listened to. What did angels look like? Had he ever heard an angel described in the Bible? Perhaps in passing without knowing that was what was being described, but if that was the case then what was the Angel of Death's appearance? How would he know it? Could he have possibly defended Nana Smith? Could he drive away the Angel of Death? Could anything drive away the Angel of Death?

Alas, he knew not.

How was he to know what an angel was to look like? In this monumental country house that was both boarding school and Museum of Egyptology, there were so many things spoken of and from what he had seen from some of the statues that Captain Smith owned of Ancient Egyptian deities, how was he to know a deity from an angel? He knew the statue of lioness-headed Sekhmet, would the Angel of Death have a similar appearance?

"So, how is Alan doing?" Adolph inquired. "I hope he is alright."

Alexander looked to the Elder Brother Marx. What was he to learn from this sudden change of conversation?

Nana Smith responded: "Adolph, whenever Alan came visiting with his parents you would always show no interest in his life. Your classmates such as Verna, Herman, Timothy and Colette would, but you never would."

"To my shame." Adolph acknowledged. "Now only with his father's death on the Western Front and his mother's passing do I wish to know how he is."

"Alan is my friend!" Burton exclaimed, somewhat cheerfully, while giving his older a brother a smug look.

"Yeah, well, here everyone is friends with everyone." Adolph countered.

"Now, now, boys. Don't fight." Uttered Nana Smith, sighing as she stroked Alexander. "Is Herr von Fell treating you well, Adolph?"

"Well, I am not French, Polish, Italian, Irish, English, Spanish or American..." began Adolph, tapping his fingers on his knee. "So, I haven't exactly been treated poorly. It is the animals in his circus and Beelzebub he treats poorly."

"How can you work for him?" Burton inquired, his tone accusative. "Any man who treats animals so poorly cannot treat his fellow man with any kindness!"

"Herr von Fell is a lot of things, Burton, but he is not the Prince of Darkness!" Adolph exclaimed, bringing his fist down on the bed, causing Alexander to stare at him with wide eyes.

"He practically is!"

"How?"

"Boys, that is enough." Nana Smith closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Upon opening her eyes, she inquired: "What are your coworkers like?"

"They are all primarily Romani." Adolph answered. "Their leader is a man only a couple of years younger than Herr von Fell. His name is John something-or-other. Cortes, I think. Yes, that's it! John Cortes! He is a grand old man, but sometimes argues with Herr von Fell, often on the treatment of the animals."

"How does Herr von Fell allow him to be around with a surname like his?" Burton asked.

"John's family came from Portugal, not Spain."

Alexander listened, but found himself becoming disinterested, yet there was also confusion. Defense of Herr von Fell, a man who was a devil, if not the Devil, it was insane! And now talk about a bunch of people who would work for the Devil? How could Adolph, a former student of Captain Smith, Alexander's master, possibly work for Herr von Fell?

Herr von Fell was indeed an evil man, but his prejudice toward the Romani people was non-existent. The French, the Polish, the Italians, the Irish, the English, the Spanish, the Americans, all people he had fought against in the Franco-German War thanks to the French having the aid of a volunteer army. The Romani who worked for Herr von Fell were for the most part good, honest circus folk, but even then, there were some less than virtuous individuals amongst them and it was those individuals whom Herr von Fell had by his side when he was interacting with the circus animals. Herr von Fell was a cruel man and so too were these individuals, the knavish few responsible for giving the Romani such a bad reputation: the puppeteer Charles Salazar, the boxer Eduardo Diego and Carol, who was not someone of any specific occupation. Despite his lack of prejudice towards them, Herr von Fell's second-in-command was Karl Albers, once the chief torturer of Kaiser Wilhelm I, now a clown, more specifically a mime, in Herr von Fell's circus. His second-in-command was still a German.

Closing his eyes, Alexander tried to find sleep, but alas, an outburst from Adolph caused him to raise his head. He glared at Adolph, who said: "The circus is not dangerous! I have not been hurt yet!" Alexander's response was to hiss, causing both Burton and Nana Smith to stare in alarm. Immediately, Adolph asked: "What's the matter with him?"

"I would say he is getting cranky that he is not being allowed to sleep." Nana Smith replied. "Go now, Adolph, we have spoken enough. Go talk to someone else and let Alexander sleep."

A low growl emitted from Alexander's throat as he continued to glare at Adolph. The Elder Marx Brother merely nodded his head and made his exit.

As Alexander lay his head down, once more trying to get some sleep, he heard Burton say: "My own brother working for Herr von Fell!" Immediately, Alexander rose his head and stared at the boy with half-closed eyes. He just wasn't going to get a chance to sleep, was he? "I hate him! I hope my dad disowns him!"

"You know more hate your brother than you hate yourself, Burton." Nana Smith said as she stroked Alexander. "I do believe you are feeling a little bit conflicted."

"How do you know?" Burton asked, not expecting an answer.

"My sons from my first marriage were turncoats who went to fight for the Mahdists, just as their father was a turncoat who went to fight for the Fenians."

"You were married to someone before Mr. Smith?" Burton asked, both alarmed and surprised by this. "Who was he?"

"Just a backstabbing nephew of that monster John A. Macdonald, or so he claimed, who had forced me into marriage with him." Nana Smith answered, very nonchalant about it as if she was discussing the weather.

"Mrs. Smith, how can you be so calm when you speak of someone so horrible?'

"Burton, my dear, the marriage was annulled long ago and no one has seen the man since the conclusion of the Fenian Raids, with there being talk that he had defected to the Mahdists later. People who had known him said he had. I did not care one bit about my first husband, I did feel conflicted about my sons and I still love them."

Alexander listened to this and wondered where were Captain Smith's half-brothers now? Did they still live? What had happened to this first husband of hers?