by J. Bryan
“Mr. Barrett, what is it that you do?” Sebastian asked, looking around the office, which was an odd mix of bland accounting décor and African safari.
“For work? Just tedious things. Farming, banking, shipping. The grunt work of civilization, really, but it must be done. I won’t bore valued guests with such talk.” He puffed his cigar and stood, looking out over the sill of one of the room’s high windows, which left the lower half of the room in shadow. “Egyptology is not my only avocation, nor is it my primary one. I do share with the pharaohs an interest in legacy, a desire to leave a sizable mark on the world before I pass on. My own little piece of immortality.
“That town down the hill is my playground. My family has been here since the beginning. Soon, we’ll have paved roads and a modern water system. We’re even digging a reservoir, with a little pocket money from the Roosevelt administration. The town will grow into a city. It’s well-positioned, right at the crossing of two of the busiest roads in the area. People have been meeting and trading here for two centuries. Now the telegraph line from Charleston runs right through Fallen Oak and on to Columbia, where it hooks into the main New York-New Orleans line. Add that to our railroad spur and our cotton exchange, and we’re looking at a prosperous future.”
He sat down, facing them again, and had more whiskey. “But that’s small-time, isn’t it? Just a little personal project of mine, this town. I’m involved in much larger things. Have you ever heard of the International Human Evolution Congress?”
Juliana and Sebastian shook their heads.
“I have the quarterly newsletter here somewhere,” Barrett said, but he made no move to find it among the stacks of papers on his desk. “It’s an organization of men influential in academia and the sciences, as well as simple business folk like me. We are committed to improvement of the human species. Already, our research has led to public health policies implemented by states like Virginia and California. The recently elected government in Germany has embraced our work enthusiastically, and is committed to funding and advancing our research.”
Juliana just nodded. She and Sebastian had little idea of what was happening in a place as exotic and distant as Europe. Or even California, for that matter.
“What kind of policies?” Sebastian asked. “In Virginia and California?”
“Most of our work focuses on identifying and combating genetic disorders,” Barrett told them. “For the benefit of posterity. On the other end of the spectrum, though, is the truly interesting work, and that’s where the two of you fit in. We are constantly searching for those who possess, not disorders, but supernormal DNA. Those at the forward edge of human evolution. We want to encourage the progress of humanity.”
“Encourage how?” Juliana asked. She sipped the whiskey again. Her head was starting to grow cloudy with the rum and whiskey, but the liquor also emboldened her to talk and ask questions.
“First, through research. We must understand how humanity is evolving and what new abilities might be emerging. The many talented scientists in our organization would be eager to study the two of you...provided that your powers are genuine, and my detective has not simply been fooled by your carnival tricks.”
“You want to know if we’re genuine?” Juliana smirked drunkenly and stripped the ratty cotton glove from her left hand. The open air felt cool on her sweaty fingers. “Watch me.”
As Barrett watched, Juliana summoned up the demon plague within her, causing blisters and welts to erupt all over her exposed hand. They dripped blood and pus onto Barrett’s petrified desk.
“Does that look genuine to you?” Juliana asked him, her voice sharp and challenging. The drink had her riled up, and she was ready to fight with someone.
“It appears genuine, of course,” Barrett replied.
“I can infect you, if you like.” Juliana reached across the desk toward him.
“Juliana, don’t!” Sebastian pulled her back.
“What? You can just heal him,” Juliana said.
“I’d rather not be the test monkey for this one, thank you,” Barrett replied. He walked past them, cracked open the door, and whispered to someone outside—the older male servant, Juliana assumed. Barrett returned to his seat and smiled at Juliana, saying nothing.
After a minute, the servant led the detective into the study.
“Good,” Barrett said. “Now, don’t open that door again until I specifically call for you. Understand?”
The older man nodded and quickly left again, closing the door.
“What’s the problem?” the detective asked.
“No problem yet, Emil,” Barrett told him. “Roll up your sleeve and hold out your hand.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Just a quick test,” Barrett replied, nodding at Juliana.
The detective shook his head, moving out of Juliana’s reach. “Not me. Test her on one of your Negroes!”
“And have them whispering about sorcery and witchcraft for years to come? I don’t believe I will. Hold out your hand,” Barrett insisted again. “If they’re just grifters, she won’t hurt you. And if they’re truly supernormal, the boy will heal you right away. You’re risking nothing. And I insist that you do it. On behalf of the entire association.”
The detective glared at him. “This will cost you extra.”
“I assumed that much,” Barrett replied.
The detective looked among them. Gritting his teeth, he shrugged off his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, then he looked at Juliana.
“Can you keep it small?” the detective asked her. “Don’t turn me into a leper like you did the preacher. I’ve heard the horror stories from people who were there.”
“I’ll keep it small.” Juliana giggled drunkenly. She reached her bare hand toward him, then touched her index finger to his forearm. She dragged her finger down toward his wrist, and dark sores opened in the wake of her touch.
The detective shouted and jerked his arm away from her. “It’s real,” he told Barrett. “Oh, God, it’s real. You! Fix it!” He held his diseased arm in Sebastian’s face.
“Wait,” Barrett said. He stood and leaned over his desk, reaching cautiously toward the infected arm. “Is it contagious?”
“Only if you touch me.” Juliana gave him an intoxicated smile and offered her hand. “Want to try?”
“No, thank you.” Barrett inspected the sores on the detective’s arm, then looked at Sebastian and nodded. Sebastian made all the sores vanish with a sweep of his hand, and the detective sighed, his eyes half-closing in pleasure at the sensation of being healed. Then he shook his head, as if coming to his senses, and glared at Barrett.
“Are we done?” the detective asked.
“Remarkable,” Barrett said. “But it could still be a trick.”
“It’s no trick. That hurt,” the detective told him. “Like my arm was on fire.”
“Good. But before I can recommend them for our research program, I’ll need to try just one more test.” Barrett opened his desk drawer and took out a revolver.
“Hell, no!” The detective hurried toward the door as Barrett raised the gun and fired. The bullet struck the detective in the left shoulder, and the man howled and tumbled to his knees. He leaned against the wall, screaming and bleeding.
Barrett turned to Sebastian, grinning as he pointed the smoking gun at him. “Well? Are you going to do anything about it?”
Sebastian rose from his chair, looking warily at the gun in Barrett’s hand, and walked backwards holding up his hands until he reached the suffering detective crumpled in the corner. He touched the man’s head and closed his eyes. The detective stopped screaming and gave another contented sigh as the healing energy flowed through him.
The detective stood up, looking healthier than they’d ever seen him, with a kind of golden glow to his flesh. Sebastian had touched him long enough to heal him fully—not just the immediate damage to his arm, but any other health problems the man might have possessed, d
own to the slightest headache. The detective gave Sebastian a big, goofy smile, which looked completely out of place on the gruff man.
“Congratulations, Emil,” Barrett told the detective. “It seems you’ve found two supernormals for us. As agreed, that’s a hundred-dollar bonus for each.”
“Good.” The detective looked Sebastian over again before turning to Barrett. “Now you’re done with me, Mr. Barrett?”
“Don’t leave just yet,” Barrett told him. “You can wait in the library, or the parlor, or the music room. Have my colored girls play piano for you, they know an extraordinary range of songs. They listen to all the newest phonographs. Are you a jazz man?”
“I’ll find my way.” The detective tipped his hat as he left.
Barrett smiled at Juliana and Sebastian, who simply gaped at him in shock, Juliana gripping the arms of her chair, Sebastian frozen in the corner. After a moment, Barrett seemed to notice the revolver still in his hand, and he put it away in his desk drawer as he returned to his high-backed chair.
“Sebastian, feel free to join us,” Barrett said, gesturing at the empty chair. “I am sorry for all the drama, but I had to be sure before I could send you on.”
“Send us on to where?” Juliana asked, while Sebastian cautiously sat beside her again.
“Tell me something. Have you ever wished to understand your powers? To gain greater control of them?” Barrett asked. “What about you, Juliana?”
“That’s why I went to the revival,” Juliana said. “I thought the preacher could heal me. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“But he couldn’t heal you,” Barrett said.
“No, it was Sebastian that had the healing touch, even though he was just the assistant. And he couldn’t heal me. But his power protects him, so he’s the only person who can touch me without getting infected.” She took Sebastian’s hand.
“Isn’t that a pity?” Barrett asked. “A pretty girl like you should be free to touch anyone she likes.”
“That’s all I want,” Juliana said. “I want to know how to make it stop, so I don’t hurt anybody. Unless I need to hurt them.”
Barrett laughed. “And that’s what I’m offering you. The chance to finally have your abilities studied scientifically. To give you both the greatest possible understanding and control.”
“You’re saying I’ll be able to go through life without infecting anyone?” Juliana asked.
“I’m saying that you have the opportunity to be studied by the finest scientific minds in Europe. Physicians, biologists, geneticists, even physicists. You will never again have a chance like this. If it is possible for you to turn off your ability, Juliana, they will discover the means.”
Juliana felt her heart pounding. It was exactly what she’d been searching for all her life. She looked at Sebastian, but he didn’t seem so excited.
“Europe?” Sebastian asked.
“If you agree, I will send the both of you to Berlin, where some of today’s greatest scientists live. I mentioned that the German government is now sponsoring research programs in collaboration with the International Human Evolution Congress, as many high German officials are already members of our group. They will provide comfortable accommodations and all living expenses. And they will apply modern science to understanding your supernormal abilities.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to be studied like that. It could be...strange.” Sebastian shook his head.
“Sebastian.” Juliana squeezed his hand tightly. “You don’t understand what it’s like for me. Your touch is good for people. Mine...I can’t continue living like this, avoiding everyone, always afraid of killing anyone who comes near me. My whole life has been a nightmare. If this could end all of it, then I need to do it, Sebastian.”
She and Barrett both looked at Sebastian, but he seemed at a loss for words.
“The girl’s right,” Barrett said. “This is a necessity for her.”
“And I don’t want to go all the way to Europe without you,” Juliana said. “Please. I need you.”
Sebastian looked at the floor and rubbed his temple, as if thinking it over was a strain on him.
“You don’t have to decide immediately, of course,” Barrett said. “Take the day to think it over. You can stay here, eat, drink, listen to music, walk the gardens, and let me know your answer in the morning. If you decide not to do it, we can have you working at the carnival again by tomorrow night. If that’s what you’d rather do with your life.” He reached for the telephone. “Now, I have some of that boring old bank business to cope with. Make yourselves at home. I’ll have the staff prepare rooms for you upstairs. If you see the detective, tell him he can go. We’ll make other arrangements if you decide to rejoin the freak show tomorrow.” Barrett placed the earpiece of the phone by his head and began talking to the operator.
Juliana clutched Sebastian’s hand as they left the room, her mind swirling with excitement and fear. She knew that getting control of the demon plague was the right thing to do, and the only way she could ever hope to be a good person, but the idea of being examined in a laboratory day after day terrified her. If Sebastian was with her, that would make it all bearable. Without him, she would be alone, with no one who understood her.
Without speaking, they walked outside into the gardens, toward the peach orchard and the elaborate graveyard under construction. They didn’t speak for a while. Both of them had plenty to think about.
Chapter Fifteen
Juliana and Sebastian tried to enjoy an afternoon running free on the Barrett grounds. They avoided the darkness of the house, instead visiting the stables to view Mr. Barrett’s horses, including a champion racehorse, which the horse groom was happy to discuss.
Barrett slaughtered a pig in their honor, outside by the smokehouse. He made a show of cutting the squealing animal’s throat himself with a butcher knife, which sent his young son screaming and crying into the house. It roasted in a pit until long after sunset, filling the grounds with the smell of hot pork.
Sebastian and Juliana waited for supper in the library, where Sebastian continued to “taste” Mr. Barrett’s Canadian whiskey again and again, while Juliana read aloud from a collection of poems by Percy Shelley. Barrett had made a number of notes in the margins of “Ozymandias,” but she couldn’t decipher his handwriting.
When she looked up from the book of poetry, she saw that Barrett’s small, timid son, also named Jonathan, had crept into the room to listen to her. He stood behind a stiff wing-backed chair near the door, as if hiding while also making sure he could escape fast. Sebastian, drowsing off in his own chair while looking out at the gardens, hadn’t even noticed him.
“Hello,” Juliana said to the little boy, who cringed.
“Do I have to leave, ma’am?” he whispered.
“No, you can come and sit. Do you like poetry?”
“I like listening to you read it, ma’am.” He tiptoed around the wing-backed chair and sat down on the edge, tentatively, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment.
“You don’t have to be scared,” Juliana said.
The boy looked at her and started crying. She could not touch him to comfort him, so she tried the softest voice she could manage: “Why are you upset?”
“He killed my pig.” The boy rubbed his running nose on his sleeve. “My favorite pig.”
“Your father?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt terrible for him. She could imagine how a boy might get attached to an animal. “He probably didn’t know it was your favorite.”
“He knew! That’s why he killed her. Because she was my friend.” The boy turned red and cried harder.
“What’s happening?” Sebastian asked, startled awake by the boy’s bawling.
“His favorite pig died.”
“Because he hates me! That’s why he did it,” the boy said.
“I’m sure your father doesn’t hate you,” Juliana said.
“And he could have brought her back to life, but he cooked her instead. And now you’re all going to eat her!”
“I don’t think he could bring her back to life,” Juliana said.
“He could! He can bring the dead back. He showed me one night, in the Negro graveyard. He made one climb right out!” The boy was blubbering. “My father’s evil. I think he’s the Devil. Or he’s worse.”
“I’m sure your father isn’t evil,” Juliana told him.
“You don’t know anything!” the boy shouted. He ran out of the library.
“Kid liked that pig,” Sebastian said.
“I couldn’t even hug him or anything. It breaks my heart. Where’s his mother, anyway?” Juliana asked.
“Upstairs with the laudanum, remember?” Sebastian said.
A servant collected them for supper, where Barrett drank heavily and regaled them with stories of nights he’d spent in New York and London, sometimes meeting famous people, about whom he gossiped freely. Some of the stories had Juliana laughing into her punch, though all the alcohol she’d consumed certainly helped her find the humor in his jokes. He came across as well-educated, well-traveled, and just plain wealthy, but with a deep fondness for the little town where he’d grown up.
Neither Barrett’s son nor his wife made an appearance during the meal. Neither Seth nor Juliana had the nerve to ask what his son might have meant about him bringing the dead to life, and with the drinking, the subject was soon forgotten.
* * *
In the morning, Juliana felt ill from so much drinking. She ate one of the fluffy, buttery biscuits served at the dining room table, along with a slice of fresh-cut peach, but she didn’t touch the eggs or sausages. She drank plenty of coffee.
“Have you had time to consider my offer?” Barrett asked when he joined them. He was already washed and dressed for the day, which made Juliana feel disgusting with her matted hair, wearing yesterday’s clothes. At least she’d slept well, in a beautiful room on the second floor with nautical paintings on the walls, the bed made from old ship timbers, the curtains cut from sailing cloth. Sebastian had slept in a different room up on the third floor.