Sir Madness Tuesday

I was glad to be nearby when Hannah finally came to. She'd been unconscious for several hours and, though a great deal happened while she was out, none of it is really worth regaling since she wasn't involved. But my poor cousin was in a fit of hysteria when she awoke, cursing herself for being such a klutz around the handsome beau. It took some time, but I eventually calmed her down. She sat up in her bed and took the tea I offered. I also handed her the morning paper. 

"No thanks," she said. "I already read it."

"It's Tuesday," I responded, meaning two things.

She furrowed her brow and took the paper. The front page had the scene we saw the day before. Police cars and yellow tape surrounding an area on the beach. The headline said it all. Hannah stared in disbelief. 

"This says," she realized, "this says Sir Madness is dead."

I nodded. She folded the paper and placed it on her lap.

"Then who greeted us on the shoreline?" she asked slowly.

"Well," I began, not sure how to explain, "Sir Madness, the one we knew, is dead. He was Sir Madness Monday, but he had a twin. Tuesday."

Hannah had trouble processing this. She repeated the name. I couldn't blame her, after all. I was only convinced by the outrageous events that transpired after she passed out. Sir Madness Tuesday had proven himself, not only to be who he said he was, but to be just as much trouble as his twin brother (younger by only fifty-three seconds).

"So, why was he there?" she asked after another cup of tea. "And why did he say it was good to see us again?"

"Because I thought it'd be funny," came a familiar voice. Sir Madness Tuesday stepped into the room with a bow. "That answers one of your questions. But which one? That is for you to decide. And as for the other, well that's simple - Because I killed him."

And with that, he broke the window with a chair he pulled from his coat, and leapt dramatically out of sight. I looked to Hannah for a queue, but she was watching the window, glaring at it. She rose from her bed and tossed me my coat, always keeping her eyes on the window. 

"We have to go after him," she said at last. "There's no other way."