P N Elrod - Barrett 1 - Red Death

by Red Death(Lit)

  before. The changes within me were staggering enough; I needed some kind of constancy for the sake of my mind's balance.

  And the solution came hard on the heels of this realization: so neat and simple that I could condemn myself for a fool for not having considered it before.

  Father and Elizabeth had the truth, for it mattered much to me that they know it. Nash had the lie, for he did not matter at all. As for the others in between...

  Beldon's eyes cleared and his brow wrinkled in honest puzzlement. "Dear me, whatever has happened?"

  "We're not sure, Doctor," I said. "You complained of dizziness and the next thing we knew, you went over like a felled tree. Are you all right? Nothing hurt?"

  He took confused assessment of himself and pronounced that he seemed to be fit. "I remember nothing of this. I was in my room last... I'd had the most awful dream about you, Mr. Barrett."

  "What sort of dream?" I asked innocently.

  "It was the most..." He shook his head. "Oh, never mind. I should not care to talk of it, lest it come true."

  I did not press him for more details, since I knew them already. If it worked with Beldon-and it had-it would work with everyone else. One by one I'd speak to them all and convince them that my death and burial had been nothing more than an unpleasant dream. Or nightmare. Either choice, they would be loath to mention it, even if I hadn't given instructions not to. With some unavoidable changes of routine for me, it looked like I might resume the semblance of a normal life again.

  Elizabeth had initially opined that my idea was ludicrous, but hadn't any better one to replace it. She now gave me a grudging nod to acknowledge this evidence of my success and asked Beldon if he might not be more comfortable on the settee. He thought he would and she and Father helped him to move.

  "I'm terribly sorry for this imposition, please excuse my weakness. I'm not normally given to fits of any kind," he told them.

  "Of course you aren't," said Father, going along with the ruse as if he'd been born an actor. "But it has been exceedingly hot today. The sun's probably caught up with you."

  Beldon offered no objection to that conclusion and accepted

  what remained of the brandy. He made short work of it and then took note of the rest of us, myself in particular.

  "Why, Mr. Barrett, something has happened to you!"

  1 sighed and eased into the chair by the desk. "Yes, sir. Father brought you down to have a look at this. When you have sufficiently recovered, I should be most grateful if you would..."

  "Great heavens, of course. I shall need my-oh, thank you, Miss Barrett." He accepted his case from Elizabeth and took charge of the situation. Except for my injury, as far as he was concerned absolutely nothing untoward had happened in this house. I felt a great surge of joy wash over me. To be looked upon as myself again and not as some ghostly horror come back to trouble the living, to simply be me, as if the last few days had never been... more and more my burden was becoming lighter. Over Beldon's shoulder, Father caught my eye and smiled, his expression of pleased relief like a mirror of my own feelings.

  I was obliged to remove my coat, an exercise which I found most painful. Elizabeth offered to cut open a seam to facilitate ings, but we managed to avoid that action. Beldon rolled up my shirtsleeve and clucked over the damage.

  "How did this happen?"

  "I already told you, Doctor. Don't you-oh, forgive me. It was just before your... ah... fall and you must have forgotten. I was helping Nash and got into a fight with one of those damned rebels. The fellow tried to crack my skull with his gun barrel and I found it necessary to thwart the attack with my arm."

  "Definitely broken just here below the elbow," he stated. "It must have been a fearsome blow."

  "It was," I wheezed. He was being very gentle, but to no avail. "Both of them."

  "Yes, it would take more than one to account for this sort of damage. And you received them last night?"

  I confirmed that fact with a short grunt.

  "But why did you not call for me sooner?" He was accusatory.

  "There were delays that could not be helped," I answered through gritted teeth in a tone that did not invite further comment.

  He made none, distracted as he was by his examination. "Very odd."

  "What is?" asked Father, leaning forward.

  "The evidence I see is that this injury's several weeks old " The blood had done it, I knew. Just as a man's body tells him to take in liquid to ease the pain of thirst, mine had compelled me to take in additional blood to quicken the process of repair. Father's face was eaten up with curiosity, but I quietly signaled to him that he should remain silent for the moment.

  "The healing is remarkably progressed," Beldon marveled. "Doesn't feel like it," I muttered.

  "That's because the bone was not properly set. See, there's no swelling or bruising, but you can feel here-" "Softly, Doctor, softly," I cautioned. "I do beg your pardon, but if you run your finger along here you can feel under the skin where the bone has joined crookedly at the break. Combined with all the other fracturing, well, thai explains why you're in such discomfort."

  " 'Discomfort' is hardly the word that comes to mind," I snarled. "What can you do about it?"

  "It will have to be rebroken, of course, then correctly set," he said matter-of-factly.

  After all I'd been through, one would think that I could face anything, but the idea of breaking my arm once more in the endeavor to fix. it again turned my guts to water. In the heal of battle an injury was one thing, but in the cool reason of the consulting room it's quite another.

  "Might I have a little more time to recover and think this over?" I asked in a none-too-steady voice.

  "Certainly, but I'd advise not delaying for very long or the healing will have gone too far, making the process of breaking more difficult to accomplish."

  "It's all right, Jonathan," put in Elizabeth in response to the groan I could not suppress. "Perhaps it can be done during the day while you're unaware of things."

  My qualms against this upcoming treatment swiftly vanished. "Heavens, sister, but that's a brilliant idea."

  Beldon looked questioningly at her. We both suddenly realized her faux pas. She generously gestured for me to step in and mend it.

  "I am an uncommonly sound sleeper, Doctor," I bland!)

  explained. "I seriously doubt that anything, even having my

  arm broken again, could rouse me once I set head to pillow."

  He made a noncommittal sound and looked highly dubious.

  Ah, well, if I had to influence him again, then it would just kave to be done. Thinking it through, I could see its looming necessity, otherwise Beldon could not help but become alarmed while treating me during my daytime oblivion.

  "In the meanwhile, is there some way in which you can make it more comfortable?"

  The soldier's rough-and-ready field dressing was soon replaced by a proper splint and bandage. Beldon's work was practiced and thorough and Elizabeth helped by fashioning a belter sling under his directions. I thanked them both and politely refused his offer of a solution of laudanum for the pain. Had I the remotest chance of keeping the stuff down, though, I would have taken it without hesitation.

  Beldon announced that he was in need of some solid refreshment and begged leave to be excused so he could see to the inner man. We graciously gave it along with our united thanks for his help and he left.

  Father gave a great sigh and dropped upon the settee in his turn. "That I have lived to see such wonders. You did it, laddie."

  "The wonder is that I got through it, sir," I puffed.

  "It's enough to persuade one into believing in the power of witchcraft," Elizabeth put in.

  "Oh, now, that's hardly fair. You know I only did it because I felt I had to."

  "Yes, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch." She hunched her shoulders as though to shiver. "And you're planning

  10 give that same story about everything having been a bad dream t
o all the others?"

  "It would seem to be the best compromise for my situation."

  "Even your mother?" Father asked, leveling his gaze hard upon me.

  I could not endure that look for long and let my own eyes drop. "I should like permission to do so, sir, as I seriously question whether she would be comfortable with the truth."

  He snorted. "By God, laddie, I can respect that answer."

  "You mean I-"

  He held up one finger and echoed my earlier caution to Beldon. "Softly, now. We're all aware of what your mother is like; the danger I see is that you might use this-whatever

  11 is-in such a way as to... well, sweeten her temper."

  Genuine surprise flooded me. "Oh, sir, but it never occurred to me-"

  "I'm very glad to hear it."

  My face was burning. "Father, surely you don't think that I would do such an unworthy thing?"

  "No, child. My purpose was to merely point out the temptations that lie ahead for you. This strange enforcing of your will and thoughts upon others can be a gift or a curse depending on how it's employed. I strongly suggest that in the future you rely upon it as little as possible."

  I said nothing for some time, for his words gave me much to think about. I honestly hadn't considered this side of things. For all the use Nora made of it, she'd only done the bare minimum to ensure her own security. When it came to our relationship, she'd discarded it altogether, risking all in the hope that my love for her would overcome my fears. Sadly, though, at the end, she'd tried to make me forget that love.

  Perhaps she'd thought it was for my own good.

  My eyes stung at the thought. To do something for another's own good must surely be the greatest of all betrayals. It was Mother's favorite maxim and the one I hated the most, and yet I could not bring myself to hate Nora. In my heart, I felt she'd been sincere, and done it out of love for me rather than as a convenience or assertion of power for herself.

  "Jonathan?"

  I gave a start. "Yes, Father, of course you're right. To do otherwise would be most ungentlemanly and dishonorable."

  "Good lad."

  "But for what I'm to do tonight... ?"

  "It is necessary. By this means, yes, make them all think it was but a dream. Beldon took hold of the idea fast enough."

  "What about others like Mrs. Montagu and Mr. Rapelji?" asked Elizabeth.

  "The same," he said heavily.

  She turned on me. "Will you be able to convince the whole Island?"

  "Elizabeth, think how hard it was for us both when you first saw me. Now multiply it by every person who knows what's happened. Would you put me through that with them all? Can you trust them to react as well as you have? I can't. I want to come home and this is the only way I can do it and not be

  marked out as some sort of grotesque thing fit only to be stared it or avoided. It spares them and it spares me."

  She paced up the room and back while a number of ideas and emotions played over her face and made her stride uneven. "Yes," she murmured. "It's just that there are so many. I don't see how you can do it."

  "I'll manage somehow," I said. "I must."

  "Jericho, too?"

  "Ah, well, perhaps not Jericho. It's impossible for a man to hide anything from his valet and in his case it would be pointless to try. I shall give him the truth, but there it must stop or the whole island will be privy to my personal concerns."

  "Quite right," Father said. "Are you up to starting now? If you wait much longer they'll all be asleep."

  As with many projects, the beginning was the most difficult part of the procedure, though there were some rough spots. Elizabeth, with her talent for organization, soon saw that speaking to each servant one after another would take us half the night. Eventually we worked out a faster way to deal with the problem. As each came into the room, I would influence them into a quiet state and ask them to wait. Once together, I could jive up to half a dozen of them at a time the same story rather than tell the same story half a dozen times. From Mrs. Nooth to the humblest stable lad, I spoke to the lot of them, and released each back to their duties as they had come with lighter hearts and no worse for wear.

  Mother and Mrs. Hardinbrook were the last ones I saw. Per-naps they should have been the most harrowing, but my poor brain was spinning by then from all my efforts; I was beyond further emotional upsets or excitements. Mother had fortunately slept off the effects of her latest dose of laudanum, making my expenditure of effort on her a success. I confess, though, that in watching her face going blank, I did experience an undeniable Mil. I was very glad to have had Father's advice already in mind, else the temptation to abuse this gift might certainly have proved to be too attractive in my future dealings with her.

  Mrs. Hardinbrook was somewhat of a problem, in that she'd indulged herself in the matter of drink not so very long ago. She'd taken just enough to cause me worry, but not so much to 1 was unable to make an impression upon her. She was

  quiet when Elizabeth led her away, but I confided my doubts to Father.

  "'Tis to be relied upon that she won't be leaving us anytime soon," he said. "I expect that after she's fully sobered you may try again with more certainty on the outcome. How are you feeling?"

  'Tired. Much more of this and my head shall split from the work."

  But there was only one more left to see and that was Jericho. As with the others, I had to put him in a state where he could readily listen, but unlike the others, I gave him the truth. Still, before releasing him, I instructed-rather than requested-that he believe my story and accept it and myself without fear.

  For this liberty upon his will, my only excuse was that I was too weary to do otherwise. Whether the soreness of my head was due to the excessive mental labor or the constant strain of imposing a raw falsehood upon so many didn't matter. What did was my reluctance to face another hour as harrowing as that first one I'd spent with Elizabeth upon my return. No more shocks like that for myself or anyone else, I resolved, and if Elizabeth or Father thought I was being selfish in my decision, neither made mention of it.

  Coming back to himself, Jericho welcomed me with the same warmth and joy as if I'd only been away on a lengthy journey and nothing more. This return to normal was what I wanted, what I needed most. I accepted his welcome and submitted meekly to his disapproval at the state of my clothes. He begged permission to see to their improvement. Father and Elizabeth both made haste to agree that I very much needed some restoration and with their good nights floating behind us Jericho all but dragged me up to my room.

  "But everything's been moved, Mr. Jonathan," he noted unhappily when he opened the wardrobe.

  My shirts and coats and all other manner of clothing had been restored, perhaps not in the right order, but they were more or less back in place again. I came over to touch them and be reassured. With the return of my things it was as if my own self was made more substantial by their presence.

  "Thank God. Elizabeth must have retrieved everything for me, bless her."

  "Retrieved... ?"

  "You know."

  "Oh," he said, drawing it out with sober understanding. He instantly ceased to be outraged that someone had intruded upon his territory and plunged into straightening some of the more radically misplaced items to their proper areas.

  "Is my journal in there?" I asked.

  "I do not see it, sir."

  "Damn. I wonder who's got it?"

  "I shall endeavor to locate it for you as soon as may be."

  "Thank you, though I can't write much in it with my arm all trussed up."

  "It pains you?"

  "A great deal, but I've been through worse."

  He chose not to comment and concentrated on getting me in the same kind of order that he imposed upon the contents of the wardrobe. It was only when he was scraping away at my stubbled chin that he finally gave in to a reaction to the impossibility of my presence. He caught his breath and turned away suddenly.

  "What is
it? Jericho?"

  His self-possession deserted him for a few moments and it was a struggle for him to wrest it back. The expression on his face kept shifting alarmingly back and forth between calmness and calamity.

  "I'm sorry. It's just that the last time I shaved you was after they brought you... it was..."

  My poor friend. "I know. It's all right. This is going to be strange for all of us for a time until we're used to things."

  He nodded once or twice, rather forcefully. "I expect so, sir."

  "But there's nothing to be afraid of; I'm still myself."