Angel of the House

Dr. Endicott would’ve had a restful evening if it hadn’t been for a bloodcurdling scream coming from the main corridor.  The noise had startled him and he had spilled his tea as a result. 

“Blast!  Now what?” 

He was frantically sponging himself as he ran down the hallway. When he reached the source of the commotion, he found two orderlies struggling with a new arrival.

“Please!” the disheveled man said as he pulled away from the attendants.  “I’m not mad! I don’t belong here!”

Dr. Endicott went over to the orderlies and whispered something the man couldn’t hear. They nodded demurely and walked away.  The man flinched as they passed him. 

“Don’t be afraid.  They’re going now.” The doctor smiled at him.  He walked toward the skittish new patient as he began to look around nervously for an exit. 

“Good evening, sir.  I’m Dr. Endicott.”  The doctor held out his hand but the man didn’t move. “Let’s talk in my office and I’ll have one of the staff bring us some tea. Would that suit?”

The man nodded and followed the doctor into his office.  The doctor waved at a chair sitting in front of a large oak desk. 

“Have a seat, won’t you, Mr…er, what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t say. But since you’re being polite, I won’t be rude.  My name is Jonathan Carstairs. Why did the police bring me here?’

“Well, that’s what we’re going to discuss.” The doctor motioned to the seat again and Jonathan finally sat down. 

“Where’s my wife?” 

“We’re going to discuss that too.  It seems you’re here because of your wife. We need to take care of her.”

“I’m taking care of her,” Jonathan answered abruptly.

“Well, you see…that’s the problem. It’s the way you take care of her that concerns us.”

“Who’s “us”?”

“Well, your family, friends, neighbors, your pastor…the community at large.”  

“I admit that I probably dote on my wife too much, but I don’t understand why people treat me as if I’m mad. I enjoy spoiling her, it’s true, but to call our love debauchery is inaccurate.”

“So you do notice that others find your…predicament to be a strange one?”  The doctor slowly picked up a pen and began jotting down notes.  

“I don’t think it’s strange.  A photographer came to our house last week to take our picture; daguerreotypes are all the rage you know. It was our first picture together. Naturally, I wanted a picture of me kissing her, but when I placed my lips on those of my beauty, the photographer’s assistant fainted. The photographer nearly dropped the plates. 

“My wife always tells me not to worry, to just ignore the others who judge us so harshly. She understands me, and she is so patient and good.  I know it’s difficult for her to not be able to walk anymore and she requires so much care and assistance, but it’s no hardship for me, really.  I love taking care of her.  She has always been a marvel to me. She looks as fragile as a porcelain doll, and yet she is so tenacious.  Indeed, most people don’t realize what inner strength she has until they really get to know her.  My darling is so accomplished, so charming, and yet so modest, a true Angel of the House.  She is my angel and always will be.”

The doctor nodded and continued writing on his pad.

“When we found out she was with child, we were elated!” Jonathan continued. “She had always wanted to be a mother and I knew she would be an excellent one.  Alas, she had a terrible time of it and the baby was stillborn  My wife…well, she was ill for so long. But now she is better and when she regains her strength, we’ll try to have another. So you see, Doctor, you can’t keep us apart.  We need to remain together so we can begin anew. 

“I’ve tried to maintain our privacy particularly around the maids.  They were so jittery especially when they saw me carry my beloved to bed.  She is rather weak and I need to do so much for her now.  The staff didn’t want to touch her.  Her illness left her rather pale, and they complained of an odor, but after all, I did bathe her, washed her hair, and changed her clothes.

“We enjoyed our time in the fresh air together.  But wherever we went, other people stared at us.   I took my beloved to the park.  She was still too weak to walk, so she accompanied me in her wheelchair.  There were other couples there so I took great care not to be too affectionate with my love, simply kissing her every now and then.  Some of the women swooned and the men looked at me with such anger.  I don’t know why they reacted so strongly.  I think it’s normal for a man to show affection to his wife, but I suppose society has become so intolerant now of public affection.  

“Several days after our child’s death, visitors stopped coming to the house and inexplicably, the staff all handed in their notices.  The pastor at our church came by and began to argue with me. He said my soul was in mortal peril because of my fixation on my wife. He says my love for her is unnatural. How could that be? Doesn’t the Bible say that husbands should love their wives as Christ loves the church?  And isn’t that what I’m doing? 

“Soon after the clergyman left, there was a pounding on the door. As soon as I opened it, two policemen barged in, demanding to see my wife.  Naturally, I wheeled her into the drawing room so they could see her. 

“As I tried to console her, for she was clearly disturbed by her presence, they looked at her with such horror.  I tried to explain to them that they mustn’t misinterpret my darling’s silence. She has always been rather shy, and the looks on their faces made her feel uncomfortable, I’m sure.  And of course, she is still trying to get over her illness and it is exhausting for her to talk.  She doesn’t even say much to me but the look in her eyes speaks volumes. She needs me, Doctor, so you must tell those men to bring her back.  I can look after her myself.”

The doctor sat silently, nervously stroking his beard. “Mr. Carstairs, you must understand…”   

Jonathan shifted forward in his seat and grabbed the edge of the desk. “They had no right to take her away! Where have they taken her? I must see her!”

“They’ve taken her to the graveyard, of course.”

“To see our child’s grave?  I took her for a visit only yesterday.”

“No, Mr. Carstairs, they’ve buried her.”

“Buried?!  But you can’t bury someone who’s alive!”

“That’s just it, Mr. Carstairs.  Your wife died in childbirth.  She’s been dead for over a fortnight.”