by C. Vandyke
Day 1126
The potions are ready. My subject today is Mr Brimscombe, male of unknown age, believed to be an immortal. Concerned locals found him by the side of the road. When first brought to me, he kept repeating, 'let me die. But now, he barely speaks.
He suffers from dysentery and a swollen left knee. Blood letting had been done in the past, followed by an amputation.
Today, the focus is reducing the swelling of his right eye, which is full of pus, and a few maggots started to appear. I washed the wound in purified water (as stated in the medical book) after picking the maggots and applied the solution. An overpowering fume came out of the bottle as I opened it. The subject cried out when I applied it, then covered it with a cloth. If no improvement shows in a few days, I will have to remove the infected eye.
Day 1127
I checked on my subject to see if there's any improvement. There seems to be none so far. With the experiments, I need to hire an assistant to help clean up.
I decided to go to the pineapple field again. Other than getting a few more pineapples, I'm hoping to see Jim and ask if he could recommend somebody to help out with my small hospital. However, I haven't a clue what payment to provide. There seems to be no currency. Everything is paid in goods, at least that was what I'm given every time I treat a patient.
I was hoping Jim could advise. He was already there when I arrived. He gave me a friendly wave when he saw me. I sat with him and his companion, Juan, to have lunch.
This time, he had a few extras with him. Jim was cooking a peculiar fruit he calls banema on an open fire. It was black with a hint of yellow and green. Its chunky appearance and matte skin wasn't as beautiful as pineapples, yet it is as exotic. Steam came out when Jim cut it on its side to expose the pale creamy flesh inside, and it definitely tastes much better than it looks. According to him, it is what they eat if they need energy that lasts longer.
Before I asked him about looking for help, he asked me to go with them. The youth in me suddenly emerged from the depth of my soul. The sense of adventure came alive once again. I didn't even ask where or how long the journey would take. I just agreed to go.
Then I remembered the work I'd be leaving behind. I had to ask Jim.
“Well Doctor, I can give you an answer when we reach our destination,” said Jim cryptically.
When I asked where we were going, he just replied with 'you'll see… we'll be back by sundown and we'll accompany you on your way home so we can discuss what you seek.
I had never travelled that far on the island. I feel I wasted a lot of my life. I forgot about the adventures I wanted to have. I am full of regret that I wasted the best time of my life being my own prisoner. Now, I'm in ill health, I'm just starting to live.
Suddenly, I heard a harrowing cacophony of something inexplicable. I took no notice at first, but it grew louder and louder, and I wasn't sure if it was howling or a trumpet. Goosebumps prickled all over my body.
I watched Jim and Juan, who seem oblivious to the sound. I wondered if I was the only one who could hear it.
'Nearly there, doctor,' Jim said. I asked if he could hear the noise. He only nodded without denying, nor confirming, it was a beast.
When we arrived at the opening of a cave, the moaning and groaning became louder and more resonant. It felt like entering hell itself.
'Where have you taken me, Jim?' I asked in desperation and fear.
“It is the Cave of Eternal Damnation; where soulless men bury themselves. But as you know, doctor, there is no hope.'
Juan comforted Jim, but he carried on walking, perhaps, to hide his tears. Juan gestured to follow along.
Before we went deeper, Juan lit a torch. Lo-and-behold, ailing bodies were on every corner of the Cave, all malnourished. But I didn't have time to stop. I kept on following Jim until we reached a chamber.
'Meet my mother, doctor,' Jim said as soon as we stopped, pointing to the woman, curled up on a mat. I asked Jim if I could examine her. He agreed. She had a pulse, she was alive. However, there were several cuts on her wrist and on her neck. I did this.' Jim said with a voice full of remorse and regret. I was young and afraid to lose her. So I got her water from the well. At first I thought it was a miracle cure. But it's a curse, a curse, doctor. As she got older, she begged me to find a way to end it. How, doctor, how?'
At first I thought he was asking how to end his mother's misery. But, his real question was how could his mother ask him to murder her. I'm not sure how I knew. Perhaps it's the way she looked at him accusingly, or the way he whimpered.
Juan put his hand on my shoulder and walked away.
'What is it that you want me to do, Jim?'
'Can you make her better? Please? I will do whatever you ask.'
I wish I could perform a miracle that would make her better. I wish I was God himself, but I'm a mere mortal who's past his best. In all honesty, I didn’t know if I could help.
What Jim sought was comfort. Perhaps, forgiveness, from his mother, and his Maker––for depriving her of true eternal life, and ironically committing a sin to right what was wrong. But to no avail. Perhaps it was redemption or, perhaps, he's gone mad.
I ended up offering him a spark of hope. I told him I needed to gather some medical supplies and come back the next day. He agreed and back home we went.
Day 1128
I checked on my subject's progress before Jim arrived. The swelling in his eye subsided, and the maggots were gone. Pus remains around the eye, which could be a sign of healing. I placed leeches around the infected area to bleed the veins around the eyes.
Jim arrived with a basket of eggs in hand, to be used for a few medical procedures, as I requested.
'Is it Salmagundi for breakfast, doctor?” Jim said in jest. I haven't known the man for a long time but I see he has a glowing spirit in him. Yesterday, I saw a different side of him.
Jim volunteered to be my assistant in exchange for making his mother better. I can but try to make her as comfortable as possible—at least that is the objective. And, to be frank, how can one go wrong?
I have my reservations about taking him on. I showed him several medical manuals so he could get himself familiar with preparations. That's when I realised the man can neither read nor write. On the other hand, he agreed to do the cleaning around my laboratory and hospital, and attend to some of the subjects and patients' basic needs like feeding and washing. Next I need to show him how to apply a dressing.
I carried a good dose of collyrium, some cups and leeches to tend to his mother. I started as soon as I arrived. A person nearby called for my attention to discuss his ailments. I told him I'd bring supplies next time.
On our way out of the cave, another soul asking for help grasped my ankle.
'Please, help release me from this hell!' cried the person. Jim and Juan helped release me from his grip. Frail as he may seem, he had a strong grip. We made a dash as soon as he let go, but his cries followed us.
I never really realised the magnitude of the consequences of consuming the water from the well. I have so many questions: why are they mostly male? Why choose this cave? As a man of medicine, I ask myself what properties it holds or if it can be reversed. Unfortunately, my stay here on earth—or wherever I might be—isn’t enough.
My views on eternal life have shifted. It seems like there was more than one motivation to have it. The captain who captured me wanted it for greed. For Jim, it was fear of losing his mother. For me, I see it as a curse. A curse that deprives man of the promise of heaven and to be left on earth to suffer. My thoughts wander to the person in my lab. How much suffering have I caused him? I confess that I fail to see him as a human being.
Day 4123
For the first time, Jim writes this entry as my hands have retired. I can feel that my days are numbered. I hope that I have done enough to serve the people of St Madeleine, including those who sought to end their suffering.
It haunts me every time. The people I fed alive to the a
nimals and maggots, the ones I burnt, and the ones I sent as offering to the kraken, who continue to guard the island. It might be their wish, but I suffer every time with nightmares. I consoled myself with a reminder that it was done to end their eternal suffering. I could only imagine the pain they went through and I provided them with a good dose of rum and were unconscious long enough.
In my short stay here on earth, there were plenty of questions that will remain unanswered in my lifetime. However, I have discovered that eternal life isn’t living itself. To live is to feel, to appreciate, to get up after a fall and to laugh, to share, to learn and to love. As a mountain has its peak, so does life. Coming down from the mountain is not the end, but an achievement that something great has been conquered.
I trained Jim to take my place and Juan to be his assistant. I am pleased with the effort that both have made to make themselves literate, and my skills and knowledge are passed on. They will inherit my personal treasure chest, now full of medical supplies provided by the sea. A surgeon is never without his chest. Now, it’s theirs and may the sea keep on providing for them.
Up to this day, no locals ever lay hands on the water of the well or desire its powers. Many outsiders still attempt to drink from it, but so far, I am the only person to survive the storm. I pass on my duties with pride to the strangers I never thought would become family.
Day 4130
I have lost my vision and rely on Jim and Juan’s care. I am pleased that I have taught them well, and that they were brave enough to try new things. I am not sure I have thanked them for their loyalty and service. May today be that day.
Day 4131
Rest in Peace Doctor Raphael Pendergast, my mentor, my friend. —Jim
Dedicated in Loving Memory
Of
Bobb Courtman, Father of fellow contributor, Jayme Bean
Of Revenge & Rapiers
C.J. Henderson
Lady Katharine Montoya Duvalle, of the city of St. Nicholas on the Isla de Los Torcidos, was getting married.
Her neighbour, Portia Santos-Carruthers, appeared far more excited about it than Katharine. “I have heard that your husband-to-be is terribly handsome,” she said, hands clasped under her chin, a look of dreamy contemplation on her face. She leaned back in the elegantly designed armchair and sighed, full of envy.
“So I have heard,” admitted Katharine. “It is certainly the thing people mention most, upon hearing his name.” She ran a finger under the collar of her dress, but it wasn’t the heat that stifled her.
“You must be terribly excited,” Portia continued. “Your wedding day—the most important day of your life! Think of the dress, the celebrations! You’re so lucky. I shall have to wait at least a year before I can wed.”
“Mmm.” Katharine desperately wondered how she could escape the conversation. Unfortunately, Portia was a guest; Katharine saw no way to absent herself that wouldn’t be considered the height of bad manners.
All she wanted was some space, some time alone during which to enjoy her last moments of freedom. She saw the path of her future laid out in front of her and resented it. But there was no other route available. It would be scandalously unfilial for a daughter of the nobility of St. Nicholas to remain unmarried.
Claustrophobic as the full weight of reality struck again, she contemplated feigning a headache to relieve her of Portia’s well-meant yet intrusive prattling. But she avoided dishonesty where she could, and instead smiled, trying her best to accommodate her friend. Manners cost nothing, after all.
Fortune was on her side. Her maid Marie knocked on the door shortly after. Nodding politely to Portia, Marie handed a folded piece of paper to Katharine, at the same time giving her a significant look, quite unseen by the guest.
Katharine’s pulse raced. This could mean only one thing. Countenance remaining calm and collected, she read:
“The items you ordered have come back into stock. Please come and see me at your earliest convenience. D.”
Katharine stood up. “My apologies, Portia,” she said. “A note from mamá, reminding me I have matters to attend to before the wedding tomorrow. I must leave you. I will, of course, be able to speak with you after the ceremony.”
Sometimes dishonesty was unavoidable.
“Of course!” exclaimed Portia. “It is I who should apologise for keeping you. Forgive me, and felicidades! And . . . sleep well tonight! You may not have many such . . . peaceful nights, after your honeymoon begins!” She tittered, blushing. Holding her fan to her face, she allowed herself to be escorted out of the room by Marie.
The maid said nothing, merely raising a brow before following Portia. Katharine shook her head.
She encountered her mother on the way back to her room.
“Mami,” Katharine said. “Do you need me for something?”
Katharine’s mother kissed her cheek. “My Kate, you look lovely today. Truly, tomorrow everyone will be in awe of how beautiful you are!” She pressed a little box into Katharine’s hand. Inside was a ring of platinum, adorned with a green stone shot through with flashes of iridescence; Kraken’s Eye opal, the traditional gift well-off parents in St. Nicholas gave to their child on the eve of their wedding.
Katharine smiled. “Thank you, Mami.” She put the ring on the first finger of her right hand. It looked like it belonged there; it had, of course, been designed for her.
Her mother sighed, suddenly uncomfortable. “Oh, Kate, I worry so for you! We both know your heart is too wild for this life. I would not have chosen to fix your marriage in this way, but with your poor dear father ill, and the stupid way this family arranges things; once he passes, his fortune will go to your imbécil uncle, as will the right to arrange your marriage. We both know he never approved of me; he will not see right by you. I had to do something.”
She coughed delicately. “And with what others would see as your disfigurements, and you being twenty-one, I was limited in what sort of marriage I could arrange. At least you will not be troubled by your husband’s unwanted attentions. He is grateful to have such an arrangement as well.”
Katharine looked down into her mother’s dark eyes, so like her own. It hurt that her mother was distressed. “I know, Mami. I do not blame you.”
Her mother smiled wanly, then with more spirit, said, “You will be missing your sister at this time. I miss her too. I only hope that somehow, somewhere, the one responsible for her death has met with a fitting punishment. If not, I hear that there are more highwaymen around. We can only hope that one of them encounters him and he comes off the worst.”
Her mother’s expression was full of intent. Katharine’s stomach lurched, and the world spun, made all the worse by her mother’s next words.
Pulling her close, her mother whispered into her ear, “Don’t stay out too late, dear, if you want to get married in the morning.”
Katharine gaped. Her mother gave her another hug and kiss on her cheek and said brusquely, “Don’t say anything, dear. Only know that I am your mother and I love you dearly, no matter what.”
She swept away, leaving Katharine stunned and wondering exactly how much her mother knew.
“How could she know anything at all?” Katharine demanded of Marie, who calmly checked their weapons.
Katharine owned a rapier and a cutlass, the former a gift from her father years back when she had taken up fencing. The latter had been appropriated by Marie from an unsuspecting pirate. He had fancied his chances with her and had taken her for exactly what she appeared to be; a lowly servant in the employ of nobility, unlikely to be defended against injustice. He was very messily disabused of that notion.
Marie shook her head, frowning. Finished with the larger weapons, she moved on to inspect a couple of daggers, her own preferred choice of weaponry.
Katharine, attired in thin black suede trousers and boots, and a red velvet short-sleeved top tied at the sides, traced the line of the scar that cut down her collarbone.
“She said ‘disfigurem
ents,’ not ‘disfigurement.’”
“Maybe she’s caught sight of you without you realising,” ventured Marie, pausing to look at the network of other battle-scars adorning Katharine’s arms. “I know you’re always careful, but really, is it that unlikely?”
“Yes,” Katharine replied, frankly. “I have spent years covering up. Everyone knows my preference for non-revealing clothes, and for privacy. I’ve always been so careful.”
“Well, too late to do anything about it now. Perhaps you can speak with her about it on your return.”
“I think I must,” agreed Katharine. “But it’s getting late. We should be going.”
Shrugging on a long coat, black suede to match her trousers, Katharine gave herself a once-over and took up her weapons. The final touch was a large square of the black suede which she folded diagonally and tied over the lower half of her face.
“Ready?”
Marie, similarly attired, nodded. Silently, they opened the twin sash windows of Katharine’s room and stole out into the night.
Each time Katharine and Marie visited Drea, she was in a different location. Katharine didn’t like to ask the reasons for this; she had already asked much of Drea and feared overstepping. Drea always seemed so otherworldly, as though half of her attention was present. The other focussed on altogether stranger things. She had the constant look of someone listening to a voice that only she could hear. It made Katharine nervous.
This time was no different, the location being a beach to the northwest of the island, a good two hours’ ride from Opal Bay Fort, the largest settlement to the north. Palm trees fanned the air, bats fluttered and swooped after insect meals, and creeping things inched along the shoreline.
Drea sat in position already, cross-legged on the sand, left hand on a weathered compass, right hand tapping a timepiece as she waited. Her head cocked, she swayed slightly, marking the ebb and flow of the tide.