Under the umbrella, Thomas grabbed Lucille's hand tightly. His tears streamed gloomily as heavy boulders running down a faint slope. Dead, Lucille had been told, was like sleeping forever. Father must consider her a baby to give her that explanation, she reasoned. But that was precisely what she had explained to Thomas. He was still young to understand, only a boy of five. By the age of four Lucille already knew what to be dead was and the basics of it, meaning by that, how it can be inflicted upon a living creature, a small one at least. But there was no reason for Thomas to learn things in the same way she had. Naivety could be a blessing, and Thomas would do better being unaware of the rudeness of life. Their own neglected lives and the two tragedies that engulfed his heart in grief at the present were more than enough.
Her father had not travelled at all for the last three months. During that time, the children had been secluded, and then Adelaide went sick. The misfortunate events had started after one of the regular maids feel sick with stomach cramps. Nana asked the Mistress to send for the doctor, but instead the Mistress ordered Jory to take the maid back to the town. She said it was neither her responsibility nor her concern. Didn't this girl have a family? Well they can fetch the doctor for her. She suggested in a mockery, that the young maid stomach's discomfort was from a different cause. From the second floor window, she had seen the girl treading toward the workers camp in more than one occasion, just after the sun settled, when the daily labor is done and the maids are dismissed to her rooms. The mistress smirked while picturing theories in her mind; oh she was clever, unlike that girl, the maid. Stupid girl, it'll serve her well to carry the consequences of indulging herself in shameless debauchery.
The Mistress was partially wrong. The doctor on town, after examined the girl, sent blood samples to the Carlisle Hospital. It was Dr. Irving Randolph who had returned with the results. As a medical practitioner he was aware of the alert being held in the Northern West districts, a possible epidemic of Cholera close to the Scottish border. A medical alert was already extended in Carlisle, and all the town's doctors and medical facilities were written with instructions to immediately notify for any patient with the symptoms. In less than two weeks, a medical team arrived to Allerdale soil searching for other patients with the same condition. They found two entire families with the disease in the miner's settlement; two toddlers and an old man had died. Some other adults also carried the disease, they were weakened and dehydrated. With the conditions of malnourishment and bad hygiene in which the traveling laborers lived and worked, a contagious disease diffused fast. The quarantine order over the estate required the closing of the mine, and the prohibition for the workers to leave the area. As it was customary, it was required for the land owners to contribute in the containment efforts against a possible epidemic. And so this meant that they were expected, or so the crown expected them, to provide accommodations, nourishment and transportation for the medical personnel as well as facilitate the distribution of medication and food for the itinerant workers stuck in the property while the quarantine lasted. This as Arthur saw it, was a huge unplanned expense for the Sharpe's funds, and Doyle will need to keep a closer control of the family budget.
"That's my luck, Irving! I cannot have the production stopped for the whole summer, by fall I will be a broken man with the banks trying to bill against what I own."
"That's an exaggeration Arthur, Mr. Barnes was a good friend of your father, and he won't insult his memoir by urging his son into a moment of calamity. This is a medical alert; they won't dare to do that to anyone, less the Sharpe family who has been a fair business party for generations."
"I tremble with the sole idea of the house passing to the hands of a stranger. I'll set fire to the whole place before that day arrives. I'll lit fire to the whole patch of red clay land if that is what it takes."
"Now you are being overly dramatic" The doctor approached to his friend and grasped away the bottle out of his hand. "Isn't it too early for a drink?"
"If I lose Allerdale, I will be cursed by all my ancestors' ghosts for the rest of my mortal life and beyond." He drank the glass in his other hand in one gulp.
The doctor couldn't avoid a laugh, trying to dissimulate it to avoid insulting his friend. He remembered Mrs. Louise Sharpe, she had been a devoted mother, couldn't picture her in his mind as a vengeful ghost.
"If such a thing as ghost existed, your parents should have already attempt to make you see your faults. Maybe for once you would listen those around you, especially those that only desire your good"
"Don't start to lecture me like mother used to"
"Right, this is a serious situation indeed, I mean it Arthur when I say, the money my friend, should be the least of your worries." The doctor paused to examine the worried look in his friend face.
"Malvern Hill, Chase, Harrows and a now Allerdale, and a couple of small towns in between are also under quarantine order. Fifty people sick, plus at least ten reported deaths, mostly children and elders. Allerdale is the Southeast location so far. The whole county may go under medical alert, and nobody will be allowed to travel." The doctor made a pause, he was also stuck in Allerdale for now, but a full size lock down was something he preferred to avoid.
When he told Emma he was to depart, she asked why they not sent anyone else this time. She knew that Irving's job required him to travel periodically, but she feared for his health too. With the quarantine order they would be separated by far long, what if they get sick, she or one of the boys, what if he get sick. He said her if not Allerdale it would be some other place. He knew that his good wife respected his friendship with Arthur Sharpe, but she never quite liked it. She had expressed in more than one occasion her reserves toward the man, and Allerdale manor. But his Emma had a golden heart and she conceded, supporting him as always, "...here, take this with you for the children and send my regards to Agnes. I pity her, my dear; quarantine or not she is practically a prisoner in her own house. Just take care of yourself, my love, and return safe to us". He longed for his family, but now he had was work to do. He tried to focus on the task on mind.
"The workers Arthur, Do you know where they settled before coming here?"
"No, Nort is the one to hire them, some come from the closer towns, but most of them are gypsies from the Northern lands, that filthy lot. They probably step at Malvern before coming here, I hear the oldest son is taking over the family business and his first command was to increase the wages payed to the land workers. Yes, most probably they were there, ungrateful ones. They never have been denied for a work in Allerdale but quick they are to sell themselves for an extra coin. Now they bring their sickness to my land, they know no gratitude... and now I have to feed them, while the production is shut down!? I'm losing money here, and they deserve not my concern."
"It may be true Arthur, but even if that is the case, you cannot thrown sick people away"
"I will if I could, throw their miserable asses out of my land to die somewhere else."
"Be not so fast on your judgement, will you think the same if it was one of your own house to fell sick".
"My whole family is in danger right now, because of them." Arthur stated as a matter of fact.
"A disease is nobody's fault, but it can drag innocents along with it. Our best efforts now should be toward stopping it and take care of our sick. That's what old Mr. Jacob would done"
"That's a low blow, my friend. Bringing my father like that. He will never raise even his voice against the workers, even less the gypsies. You...you remember the stories, right?
"Coleman Sharpe, founder of Allerdale, a tall-tale indeed. I remember to envy you as a child for being a descendant of such a mysterious man, the cunning and bold Coleman Sharpe, a self-made man able to bag anyone in his pocket. Mr. Jacob used to say he was half gypsy. A lost soul, stuck in the middle of two worlds, neither one to truly belong."
Arthur had thought a lot about the Sharpe's origins all his life, as a child he was proud of his ancestry and played to be the king of the gypsies. But he was still young when faced a great lost, his first love. Too young to fully understand, but not too young to regret the blood that ran through his veins. If there was gypsy blood in the Sharpe line, he didn't know, but he needed someone to blame, and for that purpose the gypsies fitted well. A curse most probably, for the history found a way to repeat itself in Allerdale.
/\/\/\/\
The master had been in the house most of the time, but they didn't saw him. From the nursery window, the children had seen people in and out, Doyle, Dr. Randolph, some maids dressed funny, why there where so many maids? They do look funny with a white fabric covering their mouths. Adelaide and Nana also, but they didn't came to see them, no one came to the nursery, only mother. The food was delivered to them using the service tray. Mother waked them up, walking Lucille from her room to the nursery; they spend the day there, and then back to each one's rooms. Their mother also used one of those funny things to cover her mouth. She spent two hours with them, usually after the meals. In that time Lucille was asked to read in silence and Thomas played quietly. They were also forced to take a nap after noon, that made both sleepless at night, but her mother insisted that they must be well rested to get strength. They knew something was off in Allerdale, and it was Lucille who asked first.
"Mother, is Adelaide not coming anymore, what about Nana?" Lucille face looked innocent but her reflexes were aware, expecting a reprimand from her mother after the question rolled off of her mouth. It didn't happen.
Her mother told them there were people sick and dying for a terrible illness. It was dangerous for children, and they have to be isolated for a time to avoid contagion. Lucille didn't what contagion was. It was for their own health mother had told, especially for Thomas, such a delicate boy. The mouthpiece, she had said avoid the germs to spread in the air. "The germs made you sick when they get into your body". "Of course you cannot see them, they are invisible".
"The tutor won't come either?" She regretted that question right away. It only gained her a daily hour of homework copying the pages from a book in clean paper and ink, just to practice her penmanship.
Doctor Randolph had given some instructions for preventing the disease to spread in Allerdale, like boiling the water to consume, clean the bathrooms with boiling water, and wash the hands thoroughly before manipulating the food or using the facilities. The children would be best if not exposed to those persons that dealt with sick people on daily basis. Any symptom of sickness should be informed right away. Agnes made it sure to enforce the doctor's advice adding her own set of rules. The medical team for the workers was lodged in the shacks after the house, near Nana's place. A few maids remained in the house, mainly to manage the kitchen and restricted to the ground floor. The kids remained in the third floor, and she took care of them herself. The mistress took her own doses or isolation too, as she didn't step foot below the second floor since the quarantine started. The meals and the laundry were delivered using the service trays. Agnes also accommodated a room for her husband in the first floor. "Better not to share the same room for a while, you're constantly being around these people, if you get sick, you'll bring the disease to me and thus to the children". For once he accepted her idea without objection.
The doctor sure tell her she was over reacting, and the mouthpieces she made the maids wear were unnecessary, as the Cholera didn't spread by coughing. But he preferred not to express his opinion. If one the children get sick he didn't want that blame on his shoulders. The Carlisle Hospital identified the symptoms as Cholera but it could be a new strand and so they cannot be sure it was not spread by the breath or the spit on it.
During the days, Lucille and Thomas made good use of their time together. The winter had been horrible because Lucille had been moved to her own room, outside the nursery. Thomas was given a room too, but he still sleep in the nursery, by lack of her mother's patience to deal with his cries, "you fool boy will cry yourself sick". The quarantine allowed them to spend the days together again. They played, or read or lie next to each other just daydreaming, voicing their thoughts, chanting rhymes. They memorized rhymes and it became their secret code to say things to each other when they mother was present. Mostly they meant: I'm right here with you, "Ding Dong Bell..." They were used to the confinement, and the solitude, but still they got bored from time to time. Most of the time there was only them and them alone. They made the nursery their shelter, their secret garden, their enchanted palace, their sailing ship, their uncharted land; play pretend games were what they were good at. They teamed up contriving ways to pass the time, Lucille the story teller, the silver tongued. Thomas the tinker, the magician, he found ways to make the stories real using what they had in hand. The drawing tools the doctor gave to them were particularly useful. Paper hats and tied sheets as ropes, they will catch the wildebeest in Africa; the book didn't have a picture of the beasts, but with that name they must be ferocious predators for sure, right? Thomas dreams were Lucille's, and his sister, she was a firefly, the only light that gleamed in in the darkest night.
/\/\/\/\
It was Adelaide that left them first. She didn't gave attention to her condition in the beginning, thinking that the food was making her stomach upset. Too much work to do around the house, in and out all day, there sure never was so many people in Allerdale. She missed the quietness of the manor, and the little children too. When the fever came, it was less than two weeks for her body to quit. Dehydration, after the constant throwing up and diarrhea, her body fainted and got weak to fight against the virus. She died in Nana's hands; the older woman took care of her until her last moment. For those two weeks she lied on Nana's bed and was cared as a child. For first time in 63 years Beth relinquished of her duties in Allerdale. When Adelaide's eyes lost their gleam, so did Nana's. Old Abbot was the one to deliver the bad tidings; he didn't dare to interrupt Nana's thoughts. She was paralyzed, just sat there like a statue looking at Adelaide's lifeless body. The master arrived and stood in the door watching the scene, and after a long time, he lifted Adelaide's body in his arms and closed her eyes. While he held her Nana stood up in a mechanical motion and changed the sweated sheets, impregnated in disease. She put clean sheets and bed covers. Then the two of them perform a silence ritual. Each one sat and the opposite side of the bed, and they cleaned Adelaide's body, and dressed her, and combed her hair, and hold her hands. Abbott looked as a mute spectator. He understood their pain, he was mourning too, for Adelaide was the closest he had to a daughter of his own, he and Nana had took charge of her since she was four. And Master Arthur, he remembered the little master as a toddler, always in Adelaide's arms.
Five days later, Abbott woke up in the morning to find the lifeless body of his wife. The last image he captured of her was just before going to bed. She didn't eat the soup he prepared for her. He noticed it but didn't comment, decided to allow her to cope with Adelaide's lost on her on accord. Nana was paler than usual, her long white hair untied. The nightgown added up to the image, making her to look ghostly under the candle light. She poured herself a tea before joining him in the bed, a tear rolling on her cheek, pooling in her wrinkles. She said nothing, she won't ever. Abbott found her body stiff next to him, she was dead, but she looked peaceful. He thought it was the grief that made her old heart stop. In front of the tombs of Coleman II and Ophelia Sharpe, seventy three years old Elizabeth Bale was buried in Allerdale family graveyard, next to Adelaide Bale's tomb. And next to those, an unnamed tomb, which held the bones of a stillborn baby.
The young Sharpe's were never allowed to see their caretakers. Their mother delivered the dreadful news, she told them Adelaide and Nana will not be with them anymore. Why? Thomas had asked. Words were said, but none of them had meaning in the child's head. Father had sent for Lucille later that day and her mother lead her to the inner yard. She waited there alone until he came. Lucille could smell his shaving cream scent, it had been a long time since she had last seen father. He was clean, wearing his best dark clothes, only the white collar of the shirt under the vest made a contrast, pairing with his milk white skin. He sat next to her and held her close. His eyes were vitreous while he spoke in a calm voice, explaining that there was a disease and quarantine, and how Adelaide had got sick, and then Nana. And she, Lucille had to be strong for her and Thomas too, and obey their mother while this quarantine last. He didn't want them to get sick too. She had cried against his father chest, and he kissed her tears away, as if this will take also the pain and the void she feel in her chest. "Be strong my brave little lady, you has so much in you, and for having you I'm proud. I'll always be." That night it was Lucille's turn to appease Thomas confused mind. Dead, Lucille had told him, Nana and Adelaide they were both dead.
"What it is dead?" the boy asked.
"Dead is... like sleeping forever" she really didn't come with anything better than repeat his father words.
"Like the sleeping beauty? Will Adelaide sleep for hundreds years?"
"No, not like that Thomas"
"I don't understand" He was puzzled.
"She won't wake up, she is not alive anymore. She was sick. We won't see her again"
"Does it hurt, to be dead?" Why they had not tell him first, why they leaved without say goodbye.
"No, it feels like going to sleep, it doesn't hurt, they didn't feel anything"
"I don't want them to be dead. Why it happen Lucille, why?"
"They got sick, there is lot of people sick, father told me. That's why nobody has come, so we don't get sick too"
"But why?"
"I don't know Thomas, I wish they would be here with us" She was older and mature, but that didn't keep her from feeling somehow... abandoned.
"Wish too" The boy said, whipping his running nose.
They were dressed for the funeral in all black clothes. The master ordered to bury Nana and Adelaide in the family graveyard, only family and closest friend attended, the Sharpe's, Abbot, Jory, Doyle, Dr. Randolph and a priest for the town. Nana had asked the Master to wait a few days before turn Adelaide into the ground, so her body was keep in the manor basement, wrapped up in linen, in the clay pits, where the earth of the house foundation was cold unlike the temperature outside. Five days later, Arthur Sharpe understood Nana's request, she simple had not the strength to bury Adelaide. When the priest arrived at Allerdale for Adelaide's service he found that Nana would be buried too. The Master of Allerdale was familiar with the pain of losing a child of his own, he had cried them, and mourned them, but they all had been stillborn, he had never the opportunity to create bonds.
Nana instead, had lived almost all her life under the same roof with her own daughter. Adelaide died unaware of the truth, and Nana died leaving only one person in knowledge of the secret. It was useless now; there was no one to hear her truth. Nana had lied to her own daughter, to everyone life, first in order to have her back, then in order the keep her. The secrets that Nana held about the Sharpe were painful and horrible, not to be shared.
As a sister, Beth had raised Adelaide with love, and the Bales had also treated the child fair. Still, the word mother had not a fervent meaning in Adelaide's life, in that she had always understood the little Masters. Mother and daughter is a precious connection, better missing than broken. Beth was afraid the truth would overwhelm Adelaide and she might go away far from her, even more after the miscarriage. The secret was keep and both live their lives as sisters and best friends.
Selfish, Beth knew she had been selfish and coward. But she had become a young mother, and the delivery had been complicated, she had to be cut open in her belly. The improvised surgery let her unable to bear more children. So yes, she had been selfish; she won't lose her only child. The Master Jacob won't allow her to be pointed as a stained girl, pregnant and unmarried, for she was after all under the Sharpe's care. But someone had to respond for the girl's condition. Jacob Sharpe had concocted a plan to save the girls virtue. She had pleaded him to let her keep her child, she will, he had said, but on certain terms and conditions. The baby girl was taken away, and only two souls knew of this, the one who saved the child, and the one who ordered it away. For the rest of the world, the child had died premature, a boy. More than a culprit, a volunteer was found to respond for wronging the girl; he took the blame, the fatherhood on the unborn baby, and the girl in marriage. John owed Master Jacob his life, he was grateful with the man and he felt an honest appreciation toward him. He didn't vacillate to accept the proposal, because in truth he had interest in the young maid, she was beautiful and he at his 21 was full of desire. A gentleman the stable boy turned to be, in no time he fall in love with Beth. Four years later, they brought a girl to live with them in Allerdale, Beth littlest sister Adelaide, their mother was not in condition to raise another child, and the girl will be cared better by her older sister. This the Masters of Allerdale, Jacob and Louise Sharpe agreed. The Master had kept her word, and she did to, nobody will ever know that the girl was her own daughter. Despite the pain, she was grateful to the Master, she had promised him to remain in Allerdale, and she fulfilled. For having John Abbott as a husband, Beth knew she was blessed; he was more than she deserved. He respected her mourning, and in time when her heart healed, she learned to love him back, she loved him until her last breath.
For the two women, Allerdale had been her home and her entire life. Their inhabitants were, to some extent, their family. And now they were, all them standing up, suited in black. The children attended too, against the mother's advice. For the children there were no goodbyes, they were not allowed to see Adelaide nor Nana one last time. They had no option but to believe what they were told, that inside those boxes were the women's that had care for them since they had born. It didn't seem right, to put someone you love in a simple box, and buried it in the ground. What if the dirt gets inside the box? Staining their clothes in... red, red clay, as red as blood.
Lucille looked at the coffin were Nana was, and she thought maybe she was trapped inside, and Adelaide too. Can it possible that everyone was wrong and they were wrongly burying the old women alive? The thought made her shiver. It was the first time she was in a funeral, but it felt all so familiar. Not in the same way you can recall an event from your memory. It was more like if everyone was placed where they were supposed to be, as if this has happened once and again, and again. The priest spoke while Jory keep digging the hole in the ground. Mother stood next to father, the masters of Allerdale. Even Doyle with his pointy noise and his strange manner seemed right in the scene, a déjà vu. They gathered closer, while Jory and her father put the coffins into the holes using ropes. And then Jory cover the wholes with the earth he had removed, his eyes were full of tears but they were washed away by the rain. It sure was a good thing, to cry under the rain, so no one will notice. His father had cried, Lucille never had seen him cry. He did hug them tough, her and Thomas; he kissed each of them on their checks. She didn't cry this time, but she wanted too, so her father will kiss her tears away again, in the same way that Jory's tears were fading away mixed with the rain. There were no consolation words from her mother, only words, as always. She said it was the Lord's call and men should not oppose to that. Still she spoke with sourness in her tongue when she mention Nana's name, as if it was wrong. "And the Lord would judge their souls and guide them to heaven or banish them to Hell. Be wise Lucille, you should not feel sorry for those who carve their own path."
Mother's theory about dead was something unbelievable, Lucille thought about it for the rest of the day, and the night. The part in which the body was wasted away was true, but the existence of a soul that went to heaven or hell, depending on one's procedures as a living being was definitely a made up story to keep children scared and obedient. Punishment she had said, for one's improper actions in life - improper, not bad - Lucille had been observant to her mother's choice of words. "What kind of punishment?" she had asked her mother. As a response she was, ironically, punished. Could that meant she was dead too? Surely her mother considered her question 'improper'. But then, it didn't make sense that she will be punished again for the same infraction after dead. How can a person be punished without a sentient body to take the slaps and beats? See, her mother's theory was senseless, a lie.
Lucille had seen a priest once, long ago when Thomas has been sick as a baby. She had listened to the man who had pray besides the little baby. Nana and Adelaide had prayed too. But now the prayers were for them, words were read, about the Lord's kingdom of heaven, and restful peace or it was peaceful rest? "….and we will remember them forever in our hearts... may they watch for us from heaven." Nana had spoken to her about heaven once, about the chance of Thomas going there. Now she knew, this is how adults speak to children about dead, without really mention the word explicitly. For mother "There is a heaven and there is a hell, as there is good and bad. But for all there must be a balance, and god's wisdom goes beyond our petty ignorance. Men and women instead, they are prone to sin so they cannot be trusted with hard decisions. That's why we are in god's hands. He will claim back his faithful followers, truly believers, men and woman of good heart, and children, babies and little children that obey they parents, they are still innocent in the eyes of the Lord. They will be claimed to rest and join him in his kingdom." Nana's explanation where not verbose as mother's, her descriptions were simpler but gorgeous. Heaven for instance, was a better place, bright and clean, with smells of fresh baked sweet tart, and the most beautiful musical notes being played. And there were angels too and cherubs which are baby angels and it was neither pain nor sadness, just rejoice and peace. Curiously, her mother never went into details about how heaven supposed to be. She was more obsessed with sins, for her almost everything was a sin, and sins will sent you straight to hell, and her depiction of the constant suffering that was delivered there, will make you never want to step again a foot outside the nursery. After years of trying to figure things out by herself, reading what she found at hand, trying to ask the right - and proper - questions in a subtle way. She had now come into a conclusion; adults do not spoke the truth, not to themselves, not to each other, and definitely not to children.
Dead bodies don't feel, instead them dry and got rotten or fall apart. That's very different of being asleep, if dead you cannot dream nor feel nor wake up. While in your sleep, you can dream or have nightmares. Lucille herself had also experienced that state of half consciousness in which you are asleep, and aware of it, while still feeling thing in her surroundings. She could not image dead being like that.
She looked at Thomas, realizing how much had he grown from the tiny baby he was. It made her remember Adelaide's words. "A cycle, that is what life is dear child, it will end at the same place that it started". That was a better theory than her mother's biased point of view. In Adelaide words, it actually looked like a release. "For everyone had a purpose on life Lucille, the difficult is to find it. But after you have met your purpose the charge on your shoulders will be released. Most of us will realize this when we are old, and when our bodies become so old and we cannot take care of ourselves anymore, dead will come to us, and we will expect it without fear". Lucille never has heard such words of wisdom coming from her caretaker. As sure as the rain was falling over Allerdale while they buried Nana and Adelaide's bodies, Lucille realized that she had a purpose too, Thomas. That made her understand, and then she thought that Nana had a purpose too, Adelaide. And Adelaide had taught her a lot, including how to take care of Thomas, and now she can do many things by herself. Adelaide had cared for her as once she had cared for her father, so probably she had achieve her purpose too.
Standing there, the rain pouring over him, poor Abbott looked tired and lost and sad, he will stay on Allerdale till his moment came, he always said he had promised Master Jacob to look for the estate and for the Master Arthur, and that was his own desire. He will be buried in Allerdale next to Nana, eventually. Lucille hoped for him to meet his purpose, maybe then he can rest too. Lucille though it must be difficult for him to continue his life without Nana. Without Thomas, life will become a burden for her... and dead will only be the final sacrifice, to achieve absolute freedom.