Infinite Loss (Infinite Series, Book 3)

by L. E. Waters

  I leave my glass planted, not in any mood to toast. I want to say goodnight and return to discuss this with Elmira, but the second drink hits me harder than I expected. The heaviness in my legs already keep me from attempting to stand, my face feels numb to the touch. Awareness of even the smallest shred of feeling disappears with the third stiff drink.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  “He’s opening his eyes,” Elmira’s voice sings out from far away.

  I shut my eyes again, tight at the bright sun coming through the window I lay under. Her two small hands grasp mine as someone closes the shutters. I attempt to open my eyes again and feel the sting burn all the way from my eyes to the center of my brain.

  “Where am I?”

  Dr. Carter’s face comes into view, although he appears worn and unhappy to see me. “You’re in my office. Under my care.”

  “What happened? Have I had an accident?”

  “If you consider gross overindulgence an accident, than yes.”

  When I try to sit up, it feels like an elephant rests on my chest, the very movement sends bile up into my throat. “I think I’m going to get sick.”

  The doctor puts a hand out to stop Elmira from reaching for the chamber pot. “He has thrown up everything he could possibly muster.”

  I point to the door. “I don’t want you witnessing this.”

  Elmira brings a wet handkerchief up to her eye to catch a falling sparkle. “I was so worried.”

  The doctor lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go get some fresh air, Elmira? Leave me to discuss things with Edgar.”

  She gets up hesitantly and it pains me to see her concern.

  The doctor waits until she closes the noisy door and then stands against the wall beside the cot I lay on. “Are you still under the delusion that you can handle your drinking?”

  “I beg your pardon?” If I could get up at all I would leave his office at once.

  “You are lucky to be alive.”

  I reach up to check if my skull is intact. It throbs so. I might have had a serious fall. “Have I injured myself?”

  “Surely you have, not just last night, but every time you have raised too many glasses to your lips. I tell you, I have seen this far too often and you are a glass away from shaking hands with the devil.”

  I scoff. “It is not so bad as that.”

  “You were found last night in great convulsions beside the main road, screaming that George Royster was out to murder you. I bled you of your impurities, but it took hours to lower your fever and to stop your violent retching.” He crosses his arms. “If you have another episode such as this, you will not survive it.”

  There is never anything to say when someone informs you of unconscious embarrassments.

  He hands me a pamphlet with the laughable cover that depicts a member of the Sons of Temperance standing by a fountain of water (“the beverage prepared by God himself”) under a banner that reads “Order of the Sons of Temperance to the Rescue of the World from Reign of Alcohol.”

  I put it down without a serious glance, and he watches me with wary eyes. “Mrs. Shelton deserves better than this. If you mean to do right by her at all, you will be the man that assists those found in the gutter, instead of being the man in the gutter.” He steps forward. “Her family and the townsfolk will not allow it. A good, church-going woman with young children allowing this impropriety into their house.”

  “I’ll heed your warning, doctor, but I do not need to openly declare myself part of the temperance movement. I can handle this on my own.”

  He grabs hold my wrist, like an unyielding dog. “This is not a warning but a certainty. I have heard that proclamation many times before and you can see the outcome over in that cemetery.”

  I pick back up the pamphlet and open it. He leaves me to my reading.

  Chapter 45

  Every paper in all of the major cities touts a headline of my joining The Sons of Temperance. The society is overjoyed to have such a famous and notorious member to declare war on the bottle and liquor plague. I care too much for Elmira to be embarrassed. She is proud to walk with me through town. Pious women and conservative men all nod approval to me. I’d ceased to notice the subtle disdain and judgmental glares as I passed and, it’s only upon receiving such forgiveness as the result of my public act, I realized I’d grown so used to them. The good Dr. Carter assists me with small doses of laudanum to ease my withdraw symptoms, and I wait until I’m tremor free before finally making my way back to Muddy, weeks after I’ve promised.

  “It is too late to be starting such a journey.” Elmira and I walk from the fine supper we just enjoyed into the sitting room.

  “It is all your fault for delaying me with your charms. It is the last boat to Philadelphia.”

  “I still don’t think you should venture back yet.” Elmira sits close to me on the snug settee. “Why don’t you go after our wedding?”

  “I will be back long before the seventeenth and with Muddy in tow, for I could not think of marrying you without her there. No, I promised weeks ago that I would stop in Philadelphia on my way through to edit Mr. Loud’s talentless wife’s insipid poems.” I turn to cheer myself up with the green of her eyes. “My stamp of approval pays very well. I might just return with the most elegant wedding ring to compete with your beauty.”

  She runs her hand sweetly on my cheek, but her loving look is ruined by the narrowing of her brows. “You are burning up.”

  “I think it is from you sitting so close.”

  She smiles but returns to her concern after counting my pulse. “I’m sending for Dr. Carter.”

  She leaps up and calls for her servant.

  “No, I don’t have the time. The only boat disembarks in a few hours.” I gather up my things, even though I do feel a tad suffocated by heat.

  “Your color is not good. I will only let you go if you promise me that you will stop in to see the doctor on the way.”

  “I do pass by his office.” I tip my hat to her. “I will do as the lady says, but I’m sure I will get a clean bill of health and I’ll be missing you by dawn.”

  She leans into me, straightening my ever-crooked necktie. “And if he has concerns, you will return to my care.”

  “You are tempting me to exaggerate.”

  She kisses me on the forehead.

  I scowl. “That is not a goodbye kiss.”

  She laughs. “A good reason to return to see what my welcome home kiss will be.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  As I leave her house and make my way up the lane in the dark, I tap my cane with every stride. Loud footsteps fall behind me, but when I turn, the road seems empty. Should I have taken Elmira’s carriage after all? In ten minutes, I’m approaching the street where Dr. Carter’s office lies, and the hairs on the back of my neck prick up as if someone studies me. I turn around quickly, but now the street is crowded and all eyes seem otherwise occupied. I hesitate at his door. This is nonsense, but Elmira will inquire about my visit when she sees the doctor about town. I open the door and the bell rings above my head, bringing Dr. Carter from his domicile at such an hour.

  “Edgar.” He picks up his newspaper and flicks my photo with a grin. “I’ve heard you have started a surge in new members. A fine example.”

  All my past indiscretions wiped away with a single pledge.

  “Sorry to have bothered you so late, but I’ve come at the request of Elmira. She suspects a fever, but I have an appointment in Philadelphia.”

  He laughs. “If I wanted reasonable hours I would have become a shop keeper.” He motions me to sit down in his chair and takes my temperature.

  “Low grade.” He opens the shutter flaps to allow for more light from the gas lamps and peers into my throat and eyes. Without a word, he lifts my wrist and counts against the clock on the wall. “And your heart rate is elevated.”

  “Enough that I should be delayed?”

 
He ponders for a moment. “I could give you some more laudanum to ease your symptoms for your trip.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve vowed never to take laudanum while traveling again.”

  “Can your trip be postponed?”

  I think twice. An uneasiness grows within me, a slight doubt that it might not be best to venture into another city, alone.

  He walks away as I answer, “Not with the wedding so near.”

  He returns with a brand new cane. Just as I’m going to examine the fine specimen, he pulls out the handle and unleashes a thin sword.

  “I’ve never seen something so wondrous.”

  “Malacca wood.” He slashes it through the air weakly. “You never know when an old man needs to defend himself.”

  After I get a chance to brandish it, he stows it away beside my cane at the door.

  I check the time. “I have to leave now if I’m going to make the last boat.”

  “Go then, if you must. Be sure to rest and drink plenty of fluids.”

  I nod and purposely take his new cane, leaving mine behind. I will return it once I’m back.

  “Oh, Edgar.” I spin, thinking I’ve been caught, but he says with his white brows raised. “That is non-ardent liquids.”

  Chapter 46

  I wait at a table in Sadler’s, in full view of the docks. I keep my sights on the boats instead of the attractions of what is behind the bar. I remove my wealthy client’s painful attempt at poetry and hardly know where to begin to improve it. Sad that I should make more money from selling my name than profiting from my own literary accomplishments. When the time draws near, I make my way back to my room at the Swan Hotel to fetch my smaller trunk, leaving my main trunk in storage there, waiting for my return. I carry my trunk on my shoulder and make it to Rockett’s Landing as the steamer chugs in, bringing the aroma of burning cordwood with it. I board at once, skip the usual walk on the hurricane deck to quickly fall asleep on the confined but comfortable dormitory bunk. I awake in the morning to a glistening and salty Baltimore Harbor and ready myself to make the connection for a train to Philly. I settle on the train with so much spare time that I allow myself a visit with Sartain. He will be relieved to see me so well.

  “George?” I hear whispered from the back of the train car.

  My ears perk up.

  “Shhhh. Just keep your eyes on him.”

  It would be too obvious to rise up in my seat to try to see who speaks, however, I angle myself to the window so that I might make out a faint image in the reflection.

  I know that pinched face anywhere, even though he attempts to conceal himself with his hat low, he can never hide those thick lips. He leans over his chair arm and shoots a stream of tobacco juice into the aisle, completely missing the spittoon. He nudges the two men at his side and only then do I realize that I left the cane-sword in my main trunk.

  Is this another hallucination? But I haven’t had a drink in weeks, even the laudanum has ceased. I check my forehead to see if the fever has worsened. It’s hard to tell since my blood and heart pumps thickly in fear. I study the reflection to see if others notice them as well, but it’s hard to tell. Better to run from a hallucination, than ignore the warnings of an ambush.

  The doors of the train have already closed and it’s going to be six grueling hours before I can get out of this car. Would it help me at all to make my way up the train? No, they might suspect that I’m aware of them. I must stay still and run off the moment the train stops. My only hope is to outrun them this time. I have six hours to plan my escape route.

  As the train screeches to slow down at Market Street, my hands stay clenched and my muscles ready to make the most important dash of my life.

  The conductor opens the door.

  I knock the conductor and two men out of the way, earning sharp jabs from their elbows and curses as I fly past them. I never take the time for one glance back. I shoot out like a cannon into the crowd, take the stairs up to the bridge and run across to the other platform and the southbound train waiting there. I scurry up to the first car so that I can watch all who enter. I slip the conductor extra money to see that my trunk is brought from the depot. The train finally pulls away and I care little where it’s headed.

  The hairs on my neck wouldn’t lie down as I get off the train back in Baltimore. Still feeling paranoid, I hurry up the street and into the safety of the Bradshaw’s Hotel. My sudden entrance and heavy breathing draws the stares of fine gentlemen and ladies lounging in the grand lobby. I gather myself but move quickly to the hotel manager.

  “I need a room, immediately.” I get out between labored breaths.

  The overly manicured man looks me up and down, searching for reasons to reject me, but I slap down more money than required.

  “Yes, sir. We have plenty rooms available.” He claps for the bellhop to come for my luggage and both halt when they see have I nothing to carry.

  “I am not feeling well and need to get to my room at once.” I pull some more cash from my pocket as I check outside the glass doors, fearing I’d see them at any moment. “If your boy will go collect my trunk, under the name E.A. Poe from the station immediately, I will double this upon its return.”

  He nods to the bellboy briskly, as I stuff the paper into his soft hand. The manager hands me the key.

  “Your room is—”

  I head up the stairs as he’s talking. Once I close the door and lock it behind me, I slide down to the floor and catch my breath. I made it. I’m safe.

  I get up and move the curtains aside to peer down at the street. Blasted fashion! It’s impossible to tell any difference between the same black hats and coats. I never noticed the uniform monotony before. At least I don’t see any men traveling in threes, but they might have split up—or could it truly be a trickery of my mind? I sit there in the darkening room wondering which one scares me worse.

  I only now notice the stately room decorated in heavily scrolled American Empire furniture. I go right to the ironstone chamber set and pour out the lukewarm water into the basin.

  As I’m washing, I hear a knock on the door. I edge closer and lay my ear against the cool wood, trying to hear hushed voices.

  Silence.

  Another knock. “Mr. Poe?”

  “Who is there?”

  “The bellboy, sir. I have your trunk.”

  I turn the lock quickly, and I’m opening the door when it hits me with great force. Six hands pin me to the ground as I thrash to escape.

  I’m not crazy.

  His grin glows in the darkness. “You thought you gave us the slip.”

  “He should have shaved his mustache then we would have never found him,” says the other man and the two snicker.

  George barks to one of them. “Close the door!”

  I scream with all my strength, hoping it would travel out into the hallway, but George shoves the towel I had in my hand around my mouth and holds it there. I have to struggle to breathe.

  “What is it going to take for you to listen?” He snorts in awe. “A crack on your head wasn’t enough, huh?”

  Why did I ever doubt myself? I should have gone to the authorities.

  “You’ve forced us into this. You’re giving us no choice.” He nods to one of the men and they lift me up, legs flailing as they stuff me into the wooden chair. The towel falls and I scream out again. Once they tie me to the chair, George ties the towel back into its suffocating place. Why hasn’t anyone heard me? I pray for my trunk to come.

  “All you had to do was stay away from Elmira. That’s it! All you had to do.” His dull eyes don’t even sparkle in anger. Nothing can animate them. “But no, you had to send her letters, had to disrupt her engagement, had to accost her at parties. And now, you’re taking away everything her decent husband has left for her. You think you, with your pretty little pen, can take care of her when you can’t even afford a decent coat?” He flips the frayed end of my lapel.

  Another man scoffs. “The drunk even joined
the Sons of Temperance for her.”

  All of them laugh.

  George gets so close I can smell the pepperpot and sauerkraut he had for lunch. “You’re going to leave this hotel room and get on that train immediately for New York and I’m giving you a goddamn final warning to never set foot in Richmond again.”

  I nod, with my eyes wide.

  “We’re going to be watching. As soon as you get back to your mommy, or Muddy, or whatever you call her, you send a letter at once to Elmira breaking off your engagement with no mention about this. You do that and you live.”

  I nod again frantically, but he studies my eyes. The other man goes to untie my ropes, but George stays him with a quick hand. “No. I can tell he’s not going to stay quiet about this. I can see it in his droopy eyes.”

  I try to shake my head, but the towel is so heavy and the ropes are pulled so tight, I have little movement.

  He waves to the other man. “Bring me the bottle.” He turns to me. “I’m going to make sure no one will believe you. Once the world knows of your broken pledge and hallucinations, Elmira will never take you back again.” George takes the large container of amber fluid and shakes it in front of my face. “I’m sure you’re thirsty after all of this…stress.”

  This time I shake my head regardless of the hindrance.

  He smiles. “Oh, I know you want it. Let me help you.”

  He nods for them to remove my gag and I say, “Please. I promise I will go back to New York just as you asked.”

  George places a finger to his lips. “Quiet now.” He brings the glass to my mouth and I turn away, as the alcohol burns down the side of my face.

  George tsks. “Now we’re going to have to do this the hard way.” He points to the one on my left. “Alexander, you pinch his nose and he’ll be forced to open his mouth.”