Trigger Warning: Death of a chilld [in fiction]
Caution: Scary
What happens when you take Fyodor Dostoevsky, Gaston Leroux, a couple of ghost stories and my imagination. You get a bad dream, so I wrote it out and it still freaks me out.
The soul of Jules Dedeaux
For most 1867 was not all that unusual, the hardships of the bitter winter took its normal toll. Spring was welcomed with joy as fresh food started to make its way into the cities of Europe. As summer turned up, some complained, wishing the cooler air of the spring, but far in all, it was not that bad. Interestingly Alfed Nobel patented dynamite that same year, not really a step forward for the human race but in contrast Joseph Lister demonstrated the first use of antiseptic spray in surgery. Charlies Dickens for the first time visited and gave a reading in the United States of America, in Vienna the first performance of An der schönen blauen Donau (or The Blue Danube). But in one basement in the city of Ghent, Henri Dedeaux was working away at his bench. His wife Felicity Debeaux, wed only two years ago, was upstairs tending to their son Jules, a handsome young gentleman of one year and two months old. A most charmingly handsome boy with rich brown hair, blue eyes and the energy for everything a child of that age would normally wish to pursue. Well, that is before he became sick, although money was an issue, Felicity with the help of her parents had found a good doctor and was able to tend to her son. Sadly, for this story and for his father, it must be said now that Jules would die in a few days. The news, not knowing to tell you if it is good or bad, is that he would only die once.
Felicity had first seen Henri wearing his military uniform in the street, it was lucky that the wars were not that vicious during his service, she knew that this handsome man was at least an honourable man. Henri too had taken notice of her as he walked down the street, he glimpsed Felicity, a young woman in her early twenties, dressed radiantly, wearing a rather well used Parisian dress, similar to what he noticed other women wearing whilst being stationed just outside Paris. Although to him, he felt shy but let’s say to those romantics their meeting and marriage had been splendidly delightful. They grew to know each other, which only bolstered the feelings they had when they first came to see each other. The rest are simply details of a normal life, Henri had asked Felicity’s father for her hand, he agreed and with some delight Felicity accepted. In all they were kind to each other, their house, although small was more than enough and when Jules had been born both Henri and Felicity were joyful of this gift. Their son had been born with the grace of his mother and the kind soul of his father.
Jules had been dying since the moment of his first birthday, a ravenous wave of scarlet fever had hit the city taking many kind souls with it. Today simple antibiotics would have spared him but this was a time before such miracles. Felicity tended to Jules, sleeping in an old chair next to his bed, sometimes she would just watch him breathe, only allowing herself to fall asleep for short periods of time before being shocked to motion in order to check on him. She prayed in hope but it’s sad we know what will happen. Henri had no way of consoling either himself or the pain that he saw in his wife’s eyes. He felt useless and helpless, the pain he thought would drive him to utter despair. He could not even take care of Jules, he would not take such duties away from Felicity, he knew she needed to be useful in such a way. Still, that is why we find him in the basement, one of the skills he had learned after becoming married was carpentry, he had for the last couple of days been putting this skill to use.
Two nights ago, during the troublesome inability to take any rest himself, Henri heard a whisper as he watched over Felicity sleeping, it came from the basement. It had not been reported what that whisper said or why Henri even listened to it but since that night he had started following the whispers’ orders in the damp, dimly lit by the use of a single candle but not all to unpleasant basement. Apart from the first morning when he went out with a small number of coins, returning with items wrapped in cloth, he had been down there. Living off cold tea and an occasional biscuit he had for two days, without sleep, been working. On this third day he made is way up the stairs of the basement with little grace and stood in front of Felicity and in an automaton manner simply stated “Felicity, I will need some of Jules’s hair”. A most bizarre request but Felicity looked at him with a great deal of contempt if not anger.
“What now? Why do you need some of his hair?” She was to receive no answer but she almost did not expect to be given one. She got up in almost the same manner as Henri had blurted out the request, walked to a cupboard to collect the scissors and then proceeded with great care to cut off a small piece of Jules’s hair, turning around to place it in the already waiting hand of Henri. He then held it with some intense joy for a moment and ran back down to the basement. Felicity distressed mind and tiredness led her to gently rest herself back in the chair she just got up from with little further thought. What follows to any sane person, which we must attempt to understand in the grief of Jules’s unfortunate fate, was a conversation Henri had with himself.
“It will look just like him… I promise you, trust me to that promise. We will get more of his hair in time” a pause in the conversation appeared to have happened which would be only silence in our ears.
Henri resumed it with, “I know, you’ve said that and yes it must be done. It will look like him, just give me time”. While Henri worked on, all that could be seen in the dim candlelight was Henri himself, the doll he had been working on, the bench which rested wood shavings, a selection of tools and a few pots of paint. The dim light of the candle barely reached the walls. There were dark unseeable areas but it was a small space. Henri himself who had eaten very little was pale from the lack of sunlight, wearing a somewhat dirty shirt with rolled up sleeves. His hands had become bony in the last few days as if he was being consumed by an illness of his own.
“Shhh yourself”, he shouted but continued “we must find a way to attach the hair or as you say the boy will die. That is what you said, so please do not contradict now after how far we have come, I said SHHH.. YOURSELF”. He worked on; his face conveyed such pain unknown to myself.
I must caution the reader that reading further the story itself will upset you but if the events are true, as the witness say they are, it is important to know what happened. The doll itself was about the same size as Jules with blue eyes, the features of which in wood were the same as his sons. Henri with sheer madness was trying to find a way to fix the hair to the doll. After some time past, he worked out a way in which it could be done. He deliberately took his time, knowing that he wanted it to be dark, for now perfecting the doll would take place. He waited until he could hear nothing of Felicity, hoping that she was asleep. He again went up the stairs but this time with great care, almost as in the performance of the movements of a ballet. Felicity was asleep and the boy in such illness would take little notice of his father’s actions in any case. He gently lifted the scissors now resting in his wife’s lap, his plan was simple, to cut off all of Jules’s hair. He did so in such a manner as if he was committing an awful crime, the glaze in his eyes showed it to be so. After he took as much as he dared to, he slowly restored himself to the basement again to start working on attaching more hair to the doll.
He whispered back perhaps to the whisper itself “I will keep a lock of hair just in case. I do not doubt, but his mother, you see.”
* * * * * *
Felicity awoke with the sun in her eyes, once she had gained the measure of the day, she noticed what had happened to Jules’s hair. With the gaze of fire in her eyes, she turned towards the basement. “Henri… HENRI”. After no reply the thought came to her mind that she would kill that bloody man, regardless of all else.
As she approached the door, she turned the handle, then in a most quiet but most dangerous voice said “Henri, open this door at once.”
Henri in panic looked around but still could not see all the dark places.
“Tell her that you are making a lock of his hair, a mother must understand that desire, she will understand”
“I made a lock of his hair my dear” Henri knew the tone of his voice was cowardly, he waited for a reply before moving or daring to say more.
“Henri, you are maddening, you did it with little grace you fool” She was full of mothers’ rage but also with sadness that the thought ran through her mind that if Jules was to die, a lock of his hair would provide some comfort.
“She will only be angry for a moment, she will return to your son and to the day’s work” received to only Henri.
Henri was scared to move, not knowing if it was Felicity or the whispers’ instructions he was petrified of. Felicity hit the door with the palm of her hand and retreated back into the kitchen to make breakfast and a watery soup for Jules.
“She has gone now, no more a threat, for now at least… “Henri was finally able to say out loud.
“Tonight, it must be” the whisper said, “it must be”
“Tonight, it must be” replied Henri.
The whisper was not done so quickly, “You have worked and tolled with the doll. You have to leave it next to the boy tonight. It must be there tonight, it must be.”
“Will it work as he says?” Henri asked.
“Yes, it must be, it must be with the boy tonight, it, him and me, it must be”.
All through the day Henri did nothing much other than to perfect the doll, to make sure that the paint was perfect has he could see it to be. The features as they should be, the hair was less impressive although a brush might have been useful. Henri waited, he paced the room, then he waited. He was not surprised at his wife not trying to get his attention, leaving the basement door alone. She is in such distress he thought to himself, she is thinking only of our son, she is too much of distress. But tonight, he will be done tonight, it was promised, so it will be done. The hours felt like minutes, night was coming, he could hardly tell where the day was, there were no windows in the basement. He waited until once again there was no movement upstairs. Until he was sure that Felicity was asleep. After a few moments of thinking, no not thinking just listening, he was instructed to go upstairs with the doll. Like the night before he slowly took the stairs, softly walked over to where Jules was. Henri watched for a moment; his son was breathing but distressed in doing so. He was alive, he thought to himself, so it must be. He placed the doll next to Jules, his son in replica. He was suddenly rushed with tiredness, staggering to a sofa past Felicity to lay down and watched shadows dance around on the walls. They scared him but then finally sleep caught him.
* * * * * *
Henri awoke first, the light was harsh on his face and he had not felt it for a few days. With it he almost felt pain with such the light as it was. With some fear untold to him, he rushed over to where Jules was. To his alarm Jules laid there silent, dead, with no motion whatsoever.
He shouted an angry whisper “you told me it must be, you told me it should be so. Why did I listen, you told me it would be so? Why did I listen to you, you fool Henri, you fool”. This time the conversation was only to himself.
Tears formed in his eyes, he felt it difficult to breathe, he felt pain all through his body as he burned with some unknown feeling. It was at the moment the light of the day started to awake Felicity, now Henri felt a very different fear, one which sorrow followed his failure, one which followed a lie, he was foolish to think true.
As she awoke, she was pleased to see Henri there, she looked into the bed where Jules laid but did not notice anything of alarm. “Is he any better today?” She asked without hope attached to the question.
For one moment Henri had no idea what to say but finally found no courage “A little I think, I will watch him, take some food, perhaps a walk to clear your head” He for one did not believe she would follow such advice but he pushed it harder “I promise to stay here, I will comfort him while you take food and air.
With a strange feeling Felicity felt comfort in those words and lifting herself out of the chair “you are right, food and air, that would be good.”
Henri stayed bent over Jules while he watched his wife or should I say trying not to watch his wife in order to not raise suspicion. Felicity slowly made her way around the kitchen and then headed for the door, once the door was closed Henri fell onto himself in misery and despair. His act was to take his now deceased son down to the basement, it took all his energy and he did not even notice how long it took him. Once he was in the basement, he placed his son on the bench and tucked in the blanket that carried him. With little energy and sobs of sorrow he climbed back upstairs and threw himself into the chair that his wife had occupied for so long. He stayed there sobbing, knowing pain and the despair of what to tell his darling wife. He thought himself a fool, he thought himself a useless man, unable to protect and unable to change what had happened. After a few more moments Felicity opened the door. She could see the back of her husband and that he was crying. Then she heard a sound, a cough, followed by another noise, a noise of a child being playful. She rushed over to where her son had been laying and with delight almost screamed
“Oh Henri he looks so much better today, do you not think?” this did not attract the attention of Henri whatsoever but she continued “much better, so much better, a radical improvement”. She too now also started to sob, now in understanding of why her husband was doing the same.
“He…” Henri whispered
“He is getting better, grace of God” after a few moments and with the act of keeping herself together followed with “He must be hungry, as you also no doubt, let me make us some real breakfast. I think Jules could eat, he is so alive, what grace, a radical improvement to be sure”. She turned away and walked to the kitchen, only a few steps in such a small house and started to warm some tea.
Henri did not know what to say or what to do, his wife as gone mad to be sure, she knows. With all his strength he got up when he heard something coming from the basement the words “It must be”.
Henri was ready with anger to confront the whisper, the liar he thought, he tricked me, he will pay, he must pay. He ran down the stairs to the basement, under his breath said “Come out you bastard, you lied, I will…”
“You must burn the body, it must be” the whisper uttered
“What…” He stopped himself, he could not believe what he was hearing. He could now only hear his son for the first time, making the same noises of a happy child, talking to his mother in the age he was and his mother replying in motherly tones. He turned himself around with force, about to run up the stairs
“You must burn the body, it must be” was once again whispered.
Henri felt a fear in himself again, then ran up the stairs.
At the top, he found Felicity joyful, beaming as if she had recovered fully from what has just happened. He noticed that she was holding the doll.
“What wonders it must be, our son, is almost better, he is eating and talking as though it was as if he has, by God, been given life back” Felicity proudly announced.
“Madness” is the only thing Henri could think to say out loud. It must be madness, the sickness, what torture I have given my wife. She will never be the same, he thought. She is in madness and will never recover from it. Then he hears again the noises of a child. He slowly walks over to his wife, her back now turned away from him. He hears a child saying things in a child’s way. When he approaches, Felicity turns around and the doll! It takes Henri a moment to recover his mind, now he has gone to madness himself, it must be. The noises were coming from the doll, it was a solid doll but its eyes were moving, its mouth was moving. Henri starts to move away in absolute fear, in absolute terror. The solid doll’s mouth and jaw was still making sounds and moving, it is a doll Henri thought to himself. The wood is moving has though it is real. Felicity sees the paleness in her husband’s face.
“Henri, whatever is the matter?”
“Our son is not…” He was stopped in his own motion by Felicity putting the doll where Jules laid. The doll clear as can be, more puppet than boy, it acts as if it is real but he knows it cannot be.
“Can you not see?” Henri said with serious distress in his voice.
“What! Our son is healthy and much better, by far, my grace. Come let’s get you some breakfast, you are pale, so much time in the basement, in fear. I understand that now but he is better”.
I strange sound arose “Moma” from the doll, Henri knew that voice, he knew it and was sure of it, that was Jules’s voice. That was his son’s voice for certain.
* * * * * *
Henri finds himself in the basement after trying his best not to run out in fear, he has also with some force had eaten some breakfast. He can hear his wife and son above him. He starts to swear and demand but this time not at the whisper but at himself “A solid doll, not even a puppet, has… is alive and Felicity thinks this demon is our son”
“It must be” says the whisper “it is your son, it must be.”
“What do you mean the doll is our son, only must it be?”
“To complete the body, of the flesh of your former son must be burnt or so will the doll share the same fate in that, in death, it must be”
The fireplace in the basement had only been used when the house was used by two families, now that this house was open to just one family, the basement fire place hadn’t even been used once since their moving in. The whisper is demanding I burn the body of my son telling me that it must be. He readied the fireplace with what he could find, taking time to find matches he knew were down there somehow. After the fire was going Henri did as was asked but the smell was distasteful, Henri could feel the breakfast wanting to come up. He ran up the stairs, slamming the basement door. He rushed over to a cabinet searching for a key, after a few moments he found it. He walked over to the basement door and locked it, then placed the key in his pocket. Knowing that he must throw this key away, the devil is down there, this door will never be opened again. In both grief and distress, he shouts in an order, if only to himself “This door must remain locked, never shall anyone go to the basement”
Felicity saw him in distress “Dear Husband it must be a relief, now that you have eaten something perhaps some air will do you good and for Jules as well, it would benefit him so, to get out into the air after such a long illness”. She then hands this son to him, made of flesh.
Henri took him if only to examine him closely, to see if he was believing his eyes. He could not tell this thing was a doll, but it was. He remembered a birthmark on Jules’s arm, I did not copy that, the doll did not have that, he then searched for it. He found it; his son looked at him playfully with beautiful blue eyes. Henri then thought to himself “I must get rid of this key, what is in the basement must never be allowed to escape, devil or angel, sane or madness”
From the basement he heard the whisper once again, it said
“Henri, it must be”
I do prefer standard marshmallows though; I am not sure why people would want to damage a perfectly good marshmallow! There were a lot of trees, I think this is the third time we have done it but first time with a parent’s night. So that is fun although mostly I am going to stick to the indoors. I doubt very much there are smugglers around in the middle of Canada but I kept my eye out for them. I am with you on the bathroom and a nice shower.
