Sir Richard: The Guardian

On a dark, moonless night,
Little Gretchen Holland lay in her bed, quite still;
Papa had not returned home,
From his long day at the mill.

Mama had been worried,
Papa was now three hours late;
It was time for bed for Gretchen and her brothers,
Although they fussed, Mama, in her apprehension, was quite irate.

Gretchen clutched her doll, a wooden charmer by the name of Sir Richard,
Papa had made him some time ago, a certifiable companion;
She adored the doll, because he was made with her father's love,
Papa had told her when he could not be there, Sir Richard was her guardian.

Staring at the dim bedroom wall, Gretchen saw headlights momentarily swing through,
Jumping out of bed, she peered out her second-story window;
Two men climbed out of the Model T,
She saw Mama usher out from within the house, far below.

Mama seemed to know the men,
Asking in a shrill voice, about Papa's fate;
In full view of Gretchen's disbelieving eyes,
The men produced tommy guns and cut down her mother in one quick, violent act of hate.

Terrified, Gretchen scrambled away from the window,
Just as machine gun bullets tore apart the glass;
Racing into the hall to warn her brothers,
Her heart was racing and her mind was aghast.

As Gretchen ran toward the stairs, she could hear more machine gun clatter inside the house,
She heard Fredrick's pitiful cry, but the guns roar cut him off in an instant;
Freezing, still holding her father's gift, the little girl dared not breathe,
She heard the creak of someone on the stairs, yet, she was hesitant.

Something in her broke, and Gretchen tore down the hall,
She darted into her room, and ceaselessly slid under her bed;
Breathing in seizure-like spasms,
Gretchen knew that everyone in her family--including Papa--were dead.

The hit men were now in the hall, making no attempt at being quiet,
They somehow knew that someone in the family remained;
The little girl lost control of her bladder,
When one of them tauntingly called her name.

She saw a leather boot step into the room,
Averting her eyes, her focus fell on Sir Richard, the marionette;
His Punch-like* features, with a homely, but friendly expression had changed,
It was now a lively, eager countenance, as if his duties were about to be met.

Gretchen gaped at Sir Richard, with his wicked smile and piercing eyes,
SLEEP, CHILD, a soothing male voice whispered directly into her head;
Amazingly, her eyelids grew heavy, and she was utterly exhausted,
REST NOW, the voice entrancingly said.

Gretchen woke suddenly, with a start,
Somehow, she was in her bed, nestled in her covers;
She whipped them off, and cautiously exited the room,
Peering around the corner, she wondered what happened to the others.

Moving down the stairs, pausing to listen regularly,
Gretchen peered into her brother's rooms;
There was no blood, no sign of them,
The bodies had been removed.

Moving through the kitchen, into the parlor,
There before her was a macabre sight;
The hit men were dangling from the ceiling by strong chord,
Life-sized marionettes, and a puppet show of the night.

Upon closer inspection, she saw that their flesh had turned wooden,
The chord was, in fact, pulled veins;
Grotesquely, the arms and legs were at awkward poses,
And their death masks featured great pains.

Backing away, Gretchen bumped into the davenport,
Turning quickly, she saw Sir Richard sitting there innocently...her father's savior;
Built by his hands, or perhaps a pact with the Devil,
In anticipation of these heinous invaders.

* Punch and Judy is a puppet show that has been around for centuries, about the wacky antics of a married couple.