The Death of Humpty Dumpty

This was written as an assignment for English class. We had to retell a fairy tale or nursery ryhme using certain words, so that's why the plot may stray or words may sound awkward. Please forgive me.

The Death of Humpty Dumpty: from Someone Who Was Actually There

Smells of fresh-baked bread hung in the air on Market Day as young children pranced about in the crowd, looking for their favorite sweet or fruit. Laughing parents were pulled along by tiny hands directing them to another stall where colorful adornments hung. Mothers’ poofy dresses danced and swirled as the wearer daintily ran behind their child, beatifically enduring the curiosity of their little one. The crowd rang out with the sound of idle chattering, pleasantly challenging bargaining, and general merriment. I watched it all, chin rested on my palm, from a bench at the edge of the market where I could observe as the whole gathering together formed a life painting.

As running footsteps moved toward the spot where I rested, the birds in the tree behind me abruptly stopped their singing and flew away. I glared at the approaching boy. With dark brown hair and excited eyes that were so luminous they could have been powered by a dynamo, the lean boy plopped down on the bench beside me.

“He’s done it again!” announced Baron Atkin - my school classmate - in his peculiar foreign accent.

“Who?” I asked, sighing tiredly, as I was certain I already knew the answer.

“Ol' Humpty’s acted up! He’s gone and drunk himself silly, and right now he’s up on the castle wall, proposing to a stone gargoyle!” Atkin about passed out he was laughing so hard. His chest convulsed and his face turned red as several people in the market paused to stare at him, wondering if they should call one of the castle guards to check him out. I smiled and waved the onlookers away nervously, then punched Atkin a good one so that he fell off the bench, still cackling uncontrollably.

“Shaddup!” I whispered hoarsely. “You’ll be arrested for disturbing the peace!”

Crawling back up on the bench, Atkin fervently attempted to compose himself. He wiped away the tears that had escaped onto his cheek in his lack of control. He protested that he had a right good reason to be acting so strangely.

“By the way, how’s your mum?” I asked in a futile attempt to steer the subject in another direction.

“Oh, she’s still in bed with coccidiosis. The doctor doesn’t really know how to cure it or what to do, so I don’t like to really dwell on it.” Atkin replied in a downcast voice.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“You should see him!” Atkin proposed in a sudden, impulsive thought. Obviously, he was not talking about his ailing mother. “Come on, even the dogs are howling at him. They’ve got all the king’s horses and all the king’s men trying to get him down without breaking him into pieces!”

I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand. “No way,” I replied. “That Humpty Dumpty is way more trouble than I can handle right now.”

I sighed. “Why don’t you just go and let the birds come back?” I suggested. “You scared them away.” Frowning, I pointed to a tree a few meters away where several songbirds hopped from branch to branch, chirping.

He didn’t hear me, not one bit. “Let’s go!” he cried merrily, taking my hand and jerking me along with him in the direction of the castle. I sighed once again, this time in expected defeat. Once Atkin got his mind set on something, there was no stopping him.

As we approached the large fortress, audible noises emanated from the huge crowds gathered there. Anxious cries and livid yells pierced the day, so different from the sounds of the market. On top of the high brick wall – how did he even get up there? – was ‘ole Humpty Dumpty, tottering around unsteadily with his face as scarlet as a fire dragon’s scales. His delusional shouts could be heard even from our distance, but as we got closer they became even clearer.

“Hi ho, my dear lady! Do not fear for I, the handsome knight, shall save you from your prison on this high wall!” Humpty Dumpty inched closer to one of the carved stone monsters perched atop the structure. Its impish figure, even lifeless as it was, seemed to cringe at the mere thought of Humpty defiling its rough stone with his greedy fingers. Emboldened by the beautiful maiden existing only in his insanity, the pudgy man stumbled as he made his way toward the statue, swaying precariously.

By this time, Atkin had let go of my hand and was now watching with wide eyes at the peculiar sight. A sharp gasp escaped from his mouth every time Humpty came close to the edge of the wall and certain death. This happened, by the way, about every two seconds.

Royal guards swarmed around the scene, shouting orders to one another and to Humpty, who of course heard none of it. The king’s personal knights, riding on graceful horses, trotted around the situation but couldn’t seem to find any way to help. Suddenly a huge ladder was leaned up against the wall as a brave guard valiantly volunteered. Hoisting himself onto the ladder, he began to climb – rung by rung. Perhaps they believed if one of them were up there they could… what? What could they do? The guard had now reached the top and, not appearing so certain now that he was thirty feet above the ground, extended his arms in an attempt to balance himself.

“Mr. Dumpty! Please come down immediately!” the guard on the wall ordered, attempting to appear gallant. Humpty Dumpty simply swayed erratically as if in response, and continued to make his way towards the gargoyle.

Abruptly, a flash of maroon and white caught my eye, appearing right beside the stone statue’s deformed head. A small mass of twigs and grass could be seen all collected and snuggled directly between the gargoyle’s horns.

“A bird’s nest!” I whispered to Atkin, jabbing him with my elbow. “The mum doesn’t look to happy about your Dumpty intruder.”

The purple-ish fowl launched itself from the nest, rising into the air with its pure white speckles and then plunging down to stab Humpty with its sharp beak. A somersaulting maneuver allowed the bird to land yet another blow on its quite wide and easily hit target. As Humpty Dumpty lurched from one side to another and tried to regain his balance, the crowd stopped everything they were doing and simultaneously gasped. The guard standing atop the wall just yards away from Humpty could only watch as a final attack from the enraged bird sent Humpty… Dumpty… falling…

Down, down he rushed as the crowd watched in fascinated horror. The red bricks blurred by as the ground swiftly came to meet him. Fat rolls jiggling violently as the air rushed by him, one last word from Humpty rang out through the dead silent air.

That word shall not be repeated here.

With an unsavory legacy to leave behind, Humpty Dumpty was no more after the sickening crack (though slightly muffled by all his fat) sent all to massaging their ears for days after. Though he was a complete moron and a drunk with no self control, even I had to admit his fate was a bit harsh. Humpty never seemed to be a bad person, just a stupid one. In accordance with this thought, a proper ceremony was held and Humpty Dumpty got his burial. There was much celebration and drinking to go along with it, as this is what the townspeople thought he would want at his funeral. Although Humpty Dumpty was a bad influence, he remains as a children’s nursery rhyme in the hearts of many.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,

Could not put Humpty Dumpty back together again.