Storytime: Helena and the Ghost - A Gothic Tale (Final)
It took five weeks for my brother to recover completely. The wound had been very close to his heart and lungs, but fortunately he came through well. Mama, Helena and I took turns to take care of him, feed him and bathe him. Dr. Ruther, who was Mr. Terrence’s neighbor, endeavored to visit us every day for the first two weeks, and then every two days once Simon was conscious. He declared after seeing me that the loss of hair color had been due to the impression of my brother’s accident, and recommended a few plants which could dye it in case I was interested.
“It suits you” he said, as he handed me a piece of paper with the names of the plants.
Mother inquired over and over about the events that had taken place inside Mr. Terrence’s tower that night, however I was too subdued by them as to make a recount. I begged her leave me be, assured her Mr. Terrence had behaved in the most proper way, and swore I would tell her as soon as I managed to find the words and heal my own feelings on the matter.
The day Simon woke, the first thing he demanded was to have a priest brought over to perform the ceremony. However moved Helena was by this event, she demanded her father be present when the marriage took place. Mr. Terrence had not been seen around the house since that night. Lizzie explained to us he had been taken ill and required rest; the services of the doctor would not be necessary. “The wedding may take place in his absence if you so wish” she stated. Helena, however, refused, and Simon agreed with her to wait until her father were restored to health.
One afternoon, as she and I walked to town to fetch medicine for my brother, she asked me about what happened up in the tower.
“Have you been up there?” I asked, deflecting her question.
“Only during daylight, father would not allow it at night. I’m worried about him”.
“He looked well, tired, but well, when I last saw him”, was my response.
“My mother is gone now” she said, suddenly. I stopped walking and stared at her intently. “She has not visited me since that day”.
“Your father said he was to blame for her soul not being free”.
“She told me that, as well” replied Helena. “She said she was mad at him, so she would never show him her presence to comfort him, because he was retaining her and himself in the most unnatural manner”.
“I think she is free now” I answered.
“Did you see her?” she asked. “Inside the ball?” I nodded, “And Simon?” I nodded again. Helena flinched. “To think he could have remained roaming the house as my mother did… Makes me shiver. I would’ve preferred him to die than to become a ghost”.
“Is that what she was?”
“I find no other words for it”.
The apothecary had the herbs Doctor Ruther had prescribed, however I decided to keep my hair as it was, and adorn it accordingly. I was in no hurry to find a husband, nor did I wish to have one who cared more about the color of my hair than my general manners and intellect, however humble it may be.
As the days passed and Simon recovered, I began finding myself musing about Mr. Terrence; I missed his presence in the house, his talk was always interesting, his manners were polite, and the way he professed love to his daughter and concern for all of us, almost strangers, moved me very deeply. I even considered the possibility of corresponding to his feelings towards me, if he ever gave proof of continuance in the matter, now that his body should not be charged and the manor was beginning to turn into a normal home, with no flickering electric lights, for when he destroyed the crystal ball he had also done away with the power generator.
Mr. Terrence remained locked inside his tower, with only Lizzie for company. Simon soon managed to come downstairs once a day, to grab sunlight and begin easy exercises to recover his strength. At last, Lizzie came to the dinner table one night and announced that the wedding date should be set soon, and he would that day come down and be present and merry with the rest of us.
“What say you, Mr. Barry?” she asked my brother.
“Is tomorrow too soon?” was his reply.
“Two days at least!” I answered. “I must decorate!”
And so it was that I spent those following two days filling the Terrence manor with flowers of my choosing, ribbons of delicate colors, hanging baskets with ornamental and fragrant plants. The night before the wedding, Mr. Terrence sent a note destined for me, which stated “It will rain tomorrow”. Helena and I were forced, with the help of my mother, to create a ceiling made of scattered fabric pieces to cover the venue, in case Mr. Terrence were right. He always was, when it came to weather, according to Helena.
The day of the wedding, my brother looked dashing, my now sister in law was elegant and beautiful. My mother was very happy, against her will. Her temper had softened after what had happened to Simon, she could’ve accepted even to have them live there, at the manor, had they wanted to. Few guests came, the doctor and his wife and children, the huntsman who had paid such an enormous favor to our family had been invited as well and presented us with game to be cooked for dinner. Lizzie protested she’d have to slave over the kitchen oven, but it was well worth it.
Short after the priest arrived, Mr. Terrence finally appeared among us. I had been looking forward for that moment, and I must confess I had chosen my dress and apparel to impress him, having carefully considered my new hair color for the occasion. Helena was called to his presence, and only an hour later did he come out to the terrace we had built.
From the large oak doors emerged an elderly man, curved upon his belly, tightly holding onto a metallic cane. His head was almost devoid of hair, and what little was left was utterly white. His face was wrinkled and worn, yet his eyes had the same intelligent glimmer. He wore his usual eccentric gown. Lizzie followed him close, for his walk was very insecure.
“You look beautiful” he said to me, right before the ceremony, as we all sat down.
“Thank you, Jason” I replied. He smiled, with his eyes low, and took his place near the priest.
Helena and Simon left for their honeymoon the morning after. They had begun preparations to move into a cottage of their own, in a town midway between mother’s house and Mr. Terrence’s. He declared during the wedding night he had decided to sell the manor and move to a smaller place, maybe an apartment in town. “Somewhere I can spend my old years in peace and solitude” he said.
Mother and I remained at the manner three days, until our carriage came. Mr. Terrence presented us with the painting and sewing apparel we had found inside our room the day we arrived, and had only used during the long hours waiting for Simon to recover. I made paintings full of anguish and hope, mother sewed a whole quilt for herself. During the ride back home, she continued her labor. I asked what she made, “I’m working on your wedding dress” she replied.
I laughed for all answer, home was waiting for us, and I longed for some solitude and quiet myself, at least for a short while.
The end
That was a happy end. I like the truth in what you transported through the young ladies character.
I'm glad you liked it. I wrote this about five years ago when I was in love with the book Jane Eyre. The main character is a strong woman who sees to herself. By the end of the novel she is so disturbed by a moral problem that she ends up sleeping in the streets and begging for bread (imagine this in Victorian England, the horror). She finds her happy ending too.
oh yes, I can feel Jane Eyre.
Life seemed a lot easier in those days ... and more difficult at the same time. Us women have gone a long way.