H C Turk, page 22
"Miss Alba, although I praise God if I have influenced you to be nearer Him, I nonetheless have no feeling for profundity in my speaking. Yet, is it not simple to be profound regarding the Creator? Merely think of any wonderful thing beyond our poor normalcy, and more of God's glory will be found. But even if my idea of yesterday were valued, the responsibility in main be yours, for truly any thinking I had was from your inspiration."
"You may not feel profound, Master Eric, but perhaps the lack issues from your modest nature. Despite your current ideas, which again are of great value, your generosity is such that you posit me as the source of inspiration, when truly the cause must be your own, inherent spirituality."
I was no longer displeased to find Eric engaging, for his holy notion yet stunned me with visions of a future I had never believed available. Unlike a meal after a period of hunger, the concept was sustenance to last: not until the next weakness, but for a life. And though too grand to casually bear, Eric's idea was discomforting because its source was a sinner, one due to die by my body.
"I would suggest, sir, that iVe be about our routine and thereby end a greeting that causes us each to near embarrassment, and that is a state we've promoted enough for an era."
Embarrassed at the mention of embarrassment, pink Eric agreed. With no tutoring scheduled that day, the guest and I entered the drawing room to chat apart from the library's endless books, endless lessons, preferring the more luxurious settees of this less intellectual chamber; and who was offended by the asymmetry of a weapon display with a missing stick?
Even in this mild weather, the fireplace was functioning, Eric remaining near a terror I could survive only at a distance with my back to the gassy heat. Socially I survived by mentioning my fear of flames. I wondered whether Eric's positioning was habitual, or had this weakling sinner gained a chill from walking in mellow autumn? After losing his assumed or genuine coldness, the male moved nearer me. Alone we were, but not encased, having left the door open, chaperone enough.
Settled but less than talkative, we felt between us a new closeness that filled Eric like the blood yet coloring his neck. Here was his desire, to be near the girl as social folk, not students. Continually pleased by Eric's revelation, I was not dismayed by the male's desires, not so bodily here as to be smelled. Nonetheless, my feeling was also moderated dread, for how could even my peripheral satisfaction from this relationship not encourage Rathel's desire for Eric's death?
"In that I am being smothered with silence, Master Eric, I might continue yesterday's subject of household animals. Within me you have found a natural interest, and I would care to hear more of your pets."
My words reduced his red romanticism. Enthusiastic Eric described his dog and its feeding, his dog and their mutual play, his dog and its endless tongue. With difficulty, I attempted to not consider pets more animals stolen by sinners for the latter's benefit. But were servants not in a similar situation? Both groups were fed and sheltered and had problems with their tongues.
"Truly, Eric, I would enjoy meeting your pets. Especially your particular dog, in that Randolph seems an agreeable sort."
"I would also have you see him, Miss Alba, for I am certain that you would become friends. However . . ."
"However, your parents are pleasantly disposed toward neither me nor Lady Rathel, so my visiting your home would be problematic. And I assume that conveying the dog here is no reasonable suggestion."
"Having him walk with me would be unwise, and bringing him via carriage would be foolish. Randolph, however, is oft left outside to avoid his begriming the house with, um . . . Therefore, if ever you are near my home, we could arrange for you and his walking to coincide. Being outside the household, you would not draw notice from my parents, and I would draw no great shouting from the same source."
"Sir, I shall not be satisfied in London without achieving Randolph's acquaintance."
"I don't suppose, Miss Alba," Eric pronounced slowly, "that there's some method by which you might travel nearby my home . . ."
"Yes, there is-let's leave at once," I whispered, then bowed my head, covering that foolish brow with both hands, certain that Rathel a wall away was inhaling our every syllable like a witch stealing the breath of babes.
"I say, Miss Alba, what a wonderful idea. Unfortunately you seem displeased by your own speaking."
I made no rejoinder, turning to the door while gesturing for Eric to be silent. Then I waited for Rathel to roll through the doorway like a runaway cart and toss me into the fireplace.
No attack transpired. Viewing into the great room, I shook my head for Eric to do nothing. Perhaps Rathel was yet out on business. Perhaps she simply had not heard, for my blundering words had been whispered. Then I thought that perhaps Rathel had heard our speaking, and found no argument with our intent. After all, I had mentioned journeying to the boy's house, not Man's Isle. Perhaps Rathel at the moment was hiding her own sounds, her palms rubbing together enough to blaze, her skinny throat cackling worse than any witch; for would she not well desire the two students out on their own where terrible things might transpire? With this new awareness, sensically I would remain lodged in my chair.
"We leave at once," I repeated.
Eric's leaping upward like a toad was hardly gentlemanly, even to a witch. Motioning for him to remain, I nonchalantly approached the door. Seeing no person, I ran across the great room to the foyer, gesticulating for Eric to follow. He complied with commendable silence of his feet. As I retrieved the boy's outer coat, he whispered of the exterior chill, suggesting that a lady might need gloves and the like. Unconcerned with cold, I nonetheless decided to hide behind the conventions of apparel, walking oh so casually to the stairs and up, past Delilah with whom I shared a friendly greeting, to my clothes cave for a hat and cloak. Then downstairs to die male.
Moving furtively, we achieved the front entrance. There we halted, adopting guiltless visages, which Eric accomplished less consummately than his previous success in retaining silent feet. After searching in all directions for Rathel to be peering at us like a cockroach viewing sinners abandoning their dinner table, we stepped into the London air.
About me I found a compelling space that seemed completely new, though certainly this impression was due to my company. In this atmosphere, our positions were reversed; for whereas within my (my?) home, I was the instigator of activity, once on the street, Eric confidently led the way. As we walked, London's size and smell accosted me without the insulation of Rathel's household, for the city was about me now, not beyond. Then, noticing that Eric was swiftly walking ahead, I felt a brief panic that he would abandon me. Eric then looked behind.
"In that we should hurry, miss, I suggest pressing onward."
I agreed with a mumble, following the boy who now seemed a man, certain and sizable in familiar surrounds. I seemed to be in tow, like a public coach, but where was the occupant of this box? for I felt vacant. Since Eric was an expert guide in walking precisely between oncoming persons and crossing streets without being run down by metal-mouth horses, I followed his sinning influence without hesitation.
After a moment's rapid walking, Eric halted to present a changed idea.
"We'll take a carriage to my home," he informed me.
In my bold experience, I espied a coach used by the Rathel household, suggesting its usage to Eric as I prepared to signal the driver.
"Oh, no, Miss Alba," Eric declared. "Those are too slow and too expensive. We should seek the company whose vehicles are brown." After a tall stretch for searching, Eric found one.
In his genuine knowledge-unlike my semi-familiarity-Eric called the coachman with a word and gesture. And we ran, not needing in our youth to be slow and sophisticated. But we were educated enough in England's social order for Eric to automatically assist my entry into the carriage. The boy's demeanor changed as he opened the door, for he became less of the rushing youth and more of the gentleman as he looked to me closely and offered his hand.
He wished to touch me. The boy sought to play, the young gent knew to aid a lady, but this maturing man was desirous of my touch. Ignoring two of the three, I scurried into the cab with more the rapid grace of an animal than the vapid oozing of a lady. Within, I smiled toward Eric, who was happy to leap beside me without bothering to accept hurt feelings, for was not my felicitous visage a type of intimacy? Ultimately, however, the smile we shared was not of affection, but mischief.
* * *
"Kindly enlighten me as to the divergences I encounter, Master Eric; for when in the past I've made use of public conveyance, the coachman informed me that his hiring would be charged to Lady Rathel's account."
This was my response to Eric's passing to the driver some coinage from his pocket never smelled by me in that fabric locale.
"Well and good, miss, unless you would have your transport unknown, for carriage drivers on account must notate all their charges. That person of the household responsible for billings will therefore be aware of everyone's travels. Thus, I pay with my own coin, which cannot be followed to its source-me."
"And by what method, sir, have you appropriated such wealth?"
"My father's favorite gift for birthdays is coinage, and I have no argument with his choice. However, I have been known when desperate for finances to hock some of my less passionate possessions."
"Kindly, Mr. Denton, define for me that unpleasant word."
"Hock?"
"Hock."
"It means to take some item like a fob to the pawnbroker, who will pay less money than the item is worth. Hocking is a type of selling in which one has opportunity for a time to retrieve the goods before they are resold. But I suggest, miss, that you avoid this business, since usually the item of your own possession that you sell is immediately found missing by your guardians. Remarkably, the item then gains for them great emotional value, as though in retrospect it were an heirloom instead of the common object received each holiday from relatives."
This economic method I would certainly recall, though how I might apply Eric's expertise thereof was a mystery fit a sinners' fantasy of witches. But any deliberation on the subject would come another time, for currently we had arrived, Eric having the coachman halt shy of his house as we exited with no handling of one another. The building yet seemed located on the wrong side of the world.
As I stood away from the Dentons' windows, Eric entered for his pet. More than desiring to see the dog, I was passionate not to see the parents. I remained in the shade of a shop's portico until a bearlike creature with a pleasant gait came running, dragging a young man attached via strap as though horse and wagon. As the two approached, I stepped from the shadows, the dog appearing and smelling quite friendly until he gained my scent. Then he ate me.
The dog began growling from the bottom of his throat, baring his teeth, hair sticking upright on his neck like ruffled feathers or the pants of an excitable lad. Unfrightened but confused, Eric bent to hold the dog while looking between his two friends.
"I ... I don't understand, Alba. Never before has he been unfriendly toward strangers."
"I am no stranger," I told Eric, "I am unknown. Never have I seen one of God's creatures respond to me so viciously, except for sinning humans, and the influence of the latter has certainly caused the former." Then I stepped toward the dog with no fear to display.
"Perhaps he'll revert to a savage state if we force him," concerned Eric proffered. "If he bites you, my father will have him shot."
"If he bites me, your father will have him canonized," I corrected. "We will not force the creature, but allow him to understand."
I then reached with one hand for the dog to smell. Randolph stepped nearer, the large, tan animal stretching to present no more than his nostrils to my fingers. After he had smelled enough to place me in God's kingdom, he leapt against my chest to knock me flat and grasp my throat with his reverted animal fangs.
Immediately Eric grasped Randolph with all his body, attempting to pull a creature nearly as weighty as himself off my prostrate personage as people began noticing me: one woman shrieking, a man calling for a sword to slay the beast before it kills! I, however, promoted restraint with my words, able to speak because the dog was holding me, not consuming me.
"Please remain calm, Eric, in that Randolph and I are," I stated with some difficulty. The dog's smell and tactile proximity produced a rich sensation to please me were it not for our relative positions. I then spoke quietly, my words only for this creature.
"You need not taste a witch to understand her."
Randolph then released me, pulling his face away to pant and drip saliva on my lips as though oozing the emotions of a lustful sinner.
"Oh, and thank you for the refreshing drink of your spittle, ingracious beast," I remarked while wiping my mouth. As I rose, Randolph cooperated by moving aside. The dog then sat between me and his master, reaching to lick my hand, as I tended to my sinning apparel.
"Apologies beyond that token display are in order, sir," I told Randolph. "Perhaps you might explain your disreputable behavior to the crowd you've collected."
Though the dog had scant concern, Eric noticed that too many people had stopped nearby to buzz excitedly and stare, though after my mentioning that drink of spit they held less concern for my jeopardized life.
"Let us be stepping away," I suggested to Eric, looking between the two social males, the garbed one comprehending at once as he pulled his pet's strap, the shorter creature with the superior coat moving as per his master's bidding, both beasts looking to make certain I followed.
"And you'll be excusing us, folks, in that we've other young ladies to be trampling," I called out to the audience, my convincing imitation of Elsie either an astonishment or further embarrassment to Eric, who continued to walk his dog and the witch.
Moving past the accumulated sinners, I found myself cackling. Though more disruptive than the common laugh of sinners, the cackle of this white thing was not the shattering richness of a decent witch. Since I attempted to contain the sound with a hand before my mouth, the cackle became more of a chortle, Eric sensing this foolishness and snickering in kind, though he was sickened from the taste of dog spittle against lips,-despite the mouth's being mine.
As we continued in fine spirits, I came to appreciate Randolph, and again was delivered with enlightenment. I learned that humans and animals could live together not merely as accepted familiars-as I had coexisted with animals on Man's Isle-but as desired companions, Eric and his dog an even more compatible pair than Elsie and her witch.
He responded to Eric's every given sound and gesture with a look to his master, a wag of the tail. I could sense Randolph's satisfaction in this excellent travel. Eric here was not taking his dog walking, but walking with him. In his familiarity with the locale and the society, Eric led the dog even as he led me, but neither Randolph nor I was subservient to this man, neither of us inferior nor forced to proceed.
"I usually take a different route," Eric described, "but since the people there are neighbors, I would be hallooing the lot, and thereafter they would be asking my parents of the girl with their son. What impossible explaining I would then need attempt."
Eric's character increased with his speaking, for he revealed himself as active and humorous, the latter appreciated by me in any type of person, the former considered dangerous by witches, in that sinners' unchecked activity oft reduced our populace. And I hoped this boy would not reveal himself as too active, too much the conventional sinner-like Rathel-but would remain discreet in his destruction, like Elsie.
"Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Denton, but I notice that lately you become less congested in speech. Perhaps the exterior air has loosened your breathing."
Displaying unreal indignity, Eric replied, "Forgive me, miss, if my gentlemanship has been lessened through inattentiveness. In fact, my breathing comes easier as I find myself less intimidated by my company."
"Whyever should the dog your virtual brother intimidate you, sir?" I asked, then feigned enlightenment. "Oh, your reference is to she who has brazenly slid from her combative lessons of ladydom to cause all those about her approximate shame. Aye, and I'm sorry now, lad, for the pain that I'm causing you," this last spoken with my Elsie imitation.
Responding in accord with his emerging personality, smiling Eric asked, "Think you, miss, that you might fancy a pet of your own? Truly I consider dogs the best. Of course, besides the enjoyment, one must accept responsibility. Alone in a great city, a dog would have difficulty finding decent food. Also, on his own he might be run down by carriage wheels or stolen by another person desirous of a pet."
"The ownership itself I yet find discomforting, Eric. How odd it seems to accept such broad responsibility for a creature who by nature should be free to control its own life."
"Not while living in a city, Alba, which is not a natural life for beasts. Therefore, we pet owners repay the joys of our animals' companionship by caring for them properly. In a way, is it not like man and woman rearing children?"
"I most lavishly hope not, Eric, but let us consider. God's intent in the latter is for the race of humans to continue. The former is more akin to a man and woman marrying for lust. No, that is too bizarre a comparison. I've overextended the definitions of passion and friendship, and certainly pets are of the latter."
"I am hopeful that Lady Amanda would allow you to acquire a pet, Miss Alba," Eric submitted, to my great relief not begging for a wedding in that I had broached the subject. "Certainly a person with such concern and understanding of animals as yourself would be a superior mistress."
Quickly then I turned to Eric, having been struck with revelation.
"Eric! I have a pet!" I exclaimed, grasping Randolph in emphasis.
"You do, miss? I am surprised that only now you mention the fact. Is the creature so boring that you lost recollection?"
"No, my sir, the lack is not in remembrance, but comprehension. Only upon considering your explanation of the concept of pets have I come aware of my own example."
