TFRoot - The Elixer

by The Elixir (v1. 0) [lit]

  "What difference would that make?” asked Tom.

  "Well, my elixir, just like any ordinary drug, must be taken in the proper dosage to be effective, and a larger person requires more, generally speaking. That's one of the reasons I often wished that I had been as petite as Carole here.” Lucinda shook her head ruefully. “It's so odd how fashions have changed over the centuries. I'm five feet ten inches tall, which I suppose some men today might consider the feminine ideal; you know, like all of those supermodels. For most of my life, though, I was thought of as practically a giantess, almost a freak."

  At that moment, Sammy came slinking back into the living room, stopping to rub his body against Lucinda's legs. Lucinda leaned over and affectionately brushed the side of his head with her open hand.

  "You don't think that I'm a freak do you, my darling boy?” Sammy leaped into her lap and gently placed his front paws on her chest, touching her in a manner that seemed almost human. Lucinda put her arms around him, like a mother cradling a newborn baby, and slowly, tenderly stroked his back. Sammy purred and lifted up his head, while Lucinda, her face now locked in a heartbreakingly melancholy half-smile, looked down on him, the two of them gazing into each other's eyes in a decidedly unnervingly manner.

  "Yes, dear boy,” Lucinda murmured, barely audibly, “Of course I understand."

  Lucinda gently placed Sammy down on the coffee table. He stepped over to Lucinda's teacup, lowered his head over it, and began to lap up the golden-colored liquid. Lucinda observed him doing this in complete silence, her expression growing very morose, looking almost as if she were on the verge of tears.

  Tom and Carole said nothing; while odd enough, this particular episode was not especially astonishing in the total context of all that they had seen and heard this evening.

  Abruptly, Lucinda stood up. “Come!” she said, gesturing to the stairs. “I have something extremely important that I have to show you.” She reached down and picked up Sammy, who by now had finished drinking as much as he wanted. She then led Tom and Carole up the stairs and into an elegantly-furnished bedroom dominated by an impressive brass canopy bed. They walked around the bed to the wall opposite it, to a low chest of drawers, and above that, hanging on the wall, a huge mirror.

  "This,” said Lucinda, standing in front of the mirror and gesturing at it grandly, “is what I call my window to the soul. It was created by my mother over seven centuries ago, out of glass made from the sandy soil where the herb that makes my elixir first sprung up. It is, undoubtedly, the greatest diagnostic tool ever created. Observe!"

  Lucinda took Tom by the arm and pulled him over to her, both of them now standing directly in front of the minor. Carole, curious, took a few steps over and stood next to her husband, and the three of them, including Sammy, who was still in Lucinda's arms, observed their reflections. The images were somewhat distorted, not quite like the reflections seen in a funhouse minor, but decidedly shorter and fatter than their subjects were in reality. But what was truly notable about these reflections were that they depicted a strange glow emanating from and completely surrounding its four living subjects, something like the halo surrounding the head of the artist's classical rendering of an angel, or like a cartoon of someone who had been exposed to some sort of radiation. Tom and Sammy seemed to have the most prominent glows, an eerie greenish-gold in color and several inches thick all around. Carole's was very prominent also, maybe just slightly less so than her husband's. Lucinda's, while visible, was markedly thinner, and seemed to occasionally vanish for split second or two before returning, like the flickering flame of a candle.

  "What you are seeing in your reflection,” Lucinda explained, “is your aura, the life-force, normally unobservable by the human eye, that is in each and every one of us. So long as the aura is strong, the body is healthy, and will be completely impervious to any sickness or disease.” A satisfied smile creased her face. “How powerful my elixir is!” she marveled. “Just look at your aura, Carole! Why, it's almost as strong as Tom's and my Sammy's, and theirs are ideal, thanks to my elixir. How much tea have you been taking, anyway?"

  "I don't know ... Tom and I have been sharing a pot of it almost every night, usually a cup or two for each of us."

  "Well, then, for you two, that was apparently the necessary amount to cure your illness and to ensure your continued optimum health. That really is not all that much; as I said, being smaller sometimes has its advantages. I must admit that when we first met I was very concerned about you, and that rare disease of yours. I was afraid that you might need the full power of the elixir on this night, the solstice, and then some, just to deal with that alone, but it has not; you only needed to take a small dose for only three short weeks. You are now in perfect health, my dear. Your RSD has been completely eradicated, never to return, I'm sure. I would venture to say that you both should easily live another hundred years, in robust health, of course, until the next new crop of my herbs comes in, which is probably when you will really need another dose of the elixir."

  "Wait a minute, Lucy, let me get this straight. You're telling us that you can tell just from our reflection in this mirror that Carole no longer has RSD, that neither one of us has any health problems whatsoever, and that we can both expect to live for another hundred years?"

  "Yes, that is fairly obvious,” said Lucinda, matter-of-factly. “Of course I would advise you to continue drinking my tea as you have been doing the past three weeks for a little while, at least, just to be safe, and to be sure to examine your reflection from time to time.” Lucinda opened the top drawer of the chest under the large mirror and took out a smaller hand mirror, rimmed with gold with a gold handle. “This,” she said, offering it to Tom, “is for you and Carole. Please be very careful with it; I have only one other one like it, apart from the mirror on the wall. It was made from the same glass as the large one, and it has the same extraordinary qualities. You two may use it to examine your auras every day, and if you ever observe any weakening of it at all, which sometimes happens from time to time, just take another cup or two of the tea, every day, until you see that your aura is strong once again. Make sure that you keep it looking exactly as it does now, for that is the sign of perfect health and continued life."

  "Maybe you need to take more, then, Lucy” said Tom. “Your aura looks a bit weak."

  "Humph!” Lucinda snorted. “Just wait until you get to be my age, and we'll see how goodyou look,” she said, facetiously; then, she added quickly: “No, I'm fine, actually. I have learned over the centuries that I can conserve my supply by delaying my taking the elixir until I am absolutely certain that I need it; I know how far I can go without endangering my well-being. Don't ever let yourselves run down too much, though, at least not until you have had a couple hundred years or so of experience with using the elixir."

  Tom took the mirror from her and held it up in front of himself. He and Carole gazed at their reflections, which, sure enough, looked exactly as they did in the larger mirror, their images surrounded by the same mysterious glow.

  "So what you're saying is that by drinking a cup or two of your tea every day, we have completely eliminated all of our health problems and that neither one of us will ever get sick or ever die?"

  "That is exactly what I'm saying, Tom; at least not for another hundred years or so. It couldn't be any simpler, could it?” said Lucinda, shrugging.

  Tom and Carole stood there speechless, gazing alternatively into the mirror on the wall and the smaller one Tom was holding.

  "You just don't believe me, either of you, do you?” said Lucinda with obvious disappointment.

  Tom shook his head. “I'm sorry, Lucy, but this is a little too much."

  "Why is that, Tom?” she asked, very gently. She smiled sweetly. “Have I not proven my case, Counselor?"

  "Look, all I know is that my wife has a condition that causes her chronic pain, that right now she's feeling pretty good, that you have these minors that somehow distort our reflections, and yo
u have told us some rather fantastic claims and stories. That's really it, and I'm sorry, but that's just not enough to convince me."

  "All that circumstantial evidence isn't enough for you, then. Well, what more do you need to see?"

  "I don't know, just something more ... scientific, I suppose. What you expect us to believe simply doesn't make sense. It violates the laws of nature."

  "You and Carole both claim to be Catholics,” said Lucinda, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Well, are you?"

  "Yes, of course..."

  "Well in that case it seems that you are employing a double standard. Doesn't it violate the laws of nature for a virgin to give birth? For a man to turn water into wine? Surely, rising from the dead is the greatest violation of them all, and yet you profess to have no trouble believing in all of these things. They are, in fact, central to your religion, even though you have even less proof of their veracity than what I have given to you."

  "But you're talking about faith."

  "Yes, Tom, that is exactly what it is,” said Lucinda, nodding her head and smiling. “It is something of a paradox, isn't it? No matter how much faith a Christian may have, he never surely knows the truth until it's too late, until his life has come to an end. With my elixir, you will know the truth precisely because your life will not come to its end."

  "But why have you chosen us—Carole and me? What you have, or what you claim to have, at least, is so ... so awesome. Why would you choose to give this to two people you met only weeks ago, whom you barely know? Just pure luck?"

  Lucinda smiled paternally. “The word is serendipity, Tom, the instance of finding something valuable you have not sought. You two are the right people and you happened to enter my world at the right time, just as Ned and Claire Wilson entered it at the wrong time. But you are mistaken about one thing; I do know you two, as well or better than you know yourselves. I know exactly who you are. And believe me, I would never have bestowed this gift upon you if you were not.” Her expression darkened. “That would not be a gift, but a curse,” she muttered, half to herself.

  "Excuse me?” Tom asked, puzzled.

  Lucinda ignored his question. “Oh yes,” she reiterated, “I know very well all that you are, especially to each other, and so I have chosen to share my elixir with you. I would never let it go to waste, that's for sure.” Her blue eyes flashed defiantly. “I would never give Him that satisfaction."

  "Give who the satisfaction?"

  Lucinda seemed consumed by her own thoughts and did not answer him. “Well,” she said finally, “I imagine that this evening has been enlightening. I do sincerely hope that you will derive as much joy from this gift as I have had in giving it to you. Now, I don't mean to be a poor hostess, but it is growing a bit late for me.” She smiled. “I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dr. Bloodworth shook his head, a grim, tight-lipped expression on his face. “This is not good."

  "But you got all of it out, didn't you?” Lucinda asked tentatively.

  "Yes, most of it, I think. Unfortunately, the damage has already been done.” He stood up and wiped his profusely sweating brow with a white handkerchief, while Lucinda did the same for her husband, Richard, who lay prostrate on a low cot, a makeshift sickbed set up here in the sacristy of St. George's Church. “An abdominal wound such as this is most assuredly fatal, I'm afraid."

  "It will heal,” Lucinda insisted fiercely. “In time it will heal."

  Dr. Bloodworth shook his head negatively. “Infection has already set in.” He frowned.

  Lucinda ignored him. “You shall surely recover, my darling,” said Lucinda, kneeling next to her husband and tenderly stroking his cheek. Richard was almost totally unresponsive, as he had been, save for the occasional utterance of pure gibberish, the entire time since Lucinda had arrived at his side about an hour ago, summoned by Dr. Bloodworth to assist in a crude emergency surgery on a patient too weak to be moved.

  What a terrible irony,” he muttered, “to be put down by one of his own."

  Lucinda rose, turning her attention to Dr. Bloodworth. “You know that had nothing to do with it,” she demurred. “It had nothing to do with religion; Cunningham's mind is utterly incapable of serious theological conviction. He was simply jealous of Richard, of his intellect, and he was trying to embarrass him. When he couldn't win the argument, he insulted his wife.” Lucinda shook her head sadly. “And that's the only reason he accepted the challenge."

  Dr. Bloodworth removed his spectacles. “Disgraceful coward!” he spat out scornfully. “Unable to best the man in a fair fight, he came upon him like a sneak thief and shot him in the back, and in his own church!"

  "Thank God you discovered him when you did, Doctor, or he'd surely have perished."

  "I only thank God he was still conscious then and identified Cunningham as his assailant. Otherwise, that scoundrel might have evaded justice.” Dr. Bloodworth shook his head sadly. “Richard was wrong yesterday, you know. He should have finished him when he had the chance. He was acting with true Christian charity, of course, but sometimes ... to offer mercy to the man whose heart is closed to it ... one merely destroys himself.” Then, his voice cracking with emotion, added: “He was undoubtedly one of the finest men I ever knew."

  "Don't say that!” Lucinda fairly shrieked. Her eyes flashed with anger. “You speak as if he's already dead!"

  "It's only a matter of time, Lucinda,” said Dr. Bloodworth gently. “Surely you must understand."

  "It's only a matter of time for all of us, good doctor; that muchI understand.” Lucinda reached under her cape and produced a small flask. “Here, drink this, my dear.” She opened the flask, and then she reached down and tilted Richard's head forward with one hand while putting the flask up to his mouth with the other. Richard muttered something incomprehensible before taking the liquid into his mouth, coughing as he swallowed it.

  "That's a mistake!” Dr. Bloodworth interjected urgently.

  "Be quiet!"

  "But Lucinda,” he protested, “I've told you that he's suffered a severely perforated stomach. Nothing can be properly digested; to give him food or drink now will only hasten his demise, for it will merely flow out into his body and poison him.” He softened his tone. “Verily, my lady, I have no doubt of the efficacy of your preparations; indeed, I have seen them work with my own eyes, on my own patients. But we simply do not knowhow they work, by what mechanism ... not exactly, at least."

  "Ido know, good doctor, that thispreparation has never failed me before.” She once again put the flask up to Richard's mouth. “Come on, my love, drink!” Richard by now had slipped into complete unconsciousness. Lucinda pried open his lips with her fingers and poured the liquid into his mouth, but most of it merely dribbled down his chin, not swallowed.

  Dr. Bloodworth eyed his patient critically; then, to Lucinda quietly: “Did you bring your mirror?"

  Lucinda nodded affirmatively. She reached under her cape and pulled out a small, golden-colored hand mirror and, with trembling hands raised it over her prostrate husband. Slowly, she moved her head down and to the side to catch a glimpse of his reflection.

  "Oh!” she gasped, dropping the mirror, obviously horrified by what she had seen. Dr. Bloodworth reached over and took it from her. He held it up at an oblique angle so as to view Richard's reflection. He shook his head sadly.

  "It's all right,” said Lucinda, unable to disguise the desperation creeping into her voice. “He just needs more. I'll have to brew some.” She started for the door.

  "No, my dear,” said Dr. Bloodworth softly, taking her arm. “It is no use now, I fear."

  At that very instant, as if to confirm Dr. Bloodworth's grim prognosis, Richard began to shake violently, tossing his head this way and that, as if in the throes of a seizure.

  "No!” Lucinda screamed, dropping to her knees and fairly throwing herself on her husband's body. “This, this just cannot be! The elixir hasnever failed before!I have never
failed before!” She began to shake as violently as her husband, overcome by a fit of inconsolable sobbing.

  Richard's body now stopped shaking, and he became completely motionless and silent, save for the heaving of his chest and his audible, tortured breathing. Finally, that familiar, sickening gurgling sound emanated from his throat, just as the last trace of life left his broken body.