Date: Fri, 11 Sep 2009 17:24:00 -0400
From: GripEdge <gripedge@gmail.com>
Subject: Beasts of the Field

Richard Golden stared down at his pocket watch as if is whole life had been
compacted into minutes. His son was finally coming home and it had been six
years since he last saw his boy. He often wondered if it had been worth it
to send him abroad for his education, and in the time between the clicking
of minutes, the regrets were gaining strength, and becoming even harder to
fight off.

Richard found himself lingering in the street, staring at each carriage as
they trotted past him. Determined not to let worry get the best of him, he
walked back into his house and stoked the fireplace. He glanced over at the
stack of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk and decided to finish
his paperwork to pass the time. His knees gave way as he fell back the
chair. A half hour late turned to an hour, and then two. Richard's worry
quickly turned to dread. Something had to have happened.

"Mr. Golden?" a small voice whispered with a rapping on the door. "Yes?" he
said at a young boy peeking in through the screen. "I have a note from
Dr. Spiegel, your son is sick, he was dropped off at his office about an
hour ago by carriage".

Richard thanked the boy and quickly summoned a ride to Dr. Spiegel's
house. After all these years, all of this waiting for his son to make a
long journey back to him, crossing sea and land; he could not make it over
the last two miles.

He soon arrived on the Dr.'s porch and knocked softly with his cane.
"Mr. Golden, come in." said Dr. Marc Spiegel, opening the door.

The good doctor and Richard were well acquainted with each other.
Dr. Spiegel had attended to Richard's knees for a couple of years now.
"Your son is on the bed. He's had a rough spell I'm afraid."

"What do you mean, `rough spell'?" asked Richard as he made his way up the
stairs to the bedroom. "What happened?"

"Well, I'm not too sure Mr. Golden. The carriage driver said that they
stopped to rest in Fredericksburg and your son said he was not feeling
well. He said he just stepped out and fell to the ground. The driver thinks
he may have hit his head. I don't see any signs of an injury, but he said
that your son was not been making sense and seems to be confused as to
where he is."

"Augustan" he whispered, laying his hand on his son's forearm. Augustan
opened his eyes and looked up. "Who are you?" he asked, in a deep and raspy
voice. Richard was taken aback, shocked that his own son could look him in
the face and not know him.

He gazed down at this man in the bed. His son was just a small thin
teenager when he left, and now a man, unshaven and unkempt, with long brown
curly hair, so tall that the bed could not contain him. He even began to
question his own sanity for a moment; the years had been hard and long for
both of them. This was his son wasn't it?

Augustan sat up in the bed, weary and confused. "It's your father
Augustan," said Dr. Spiegel, taking a seat at the end of the bed, "you were
on your way to see him when you became ill."

Augustan looked up at the man apologetically and put his hand to the side
of his own cheek, as if even his face felt like a stranger to him.

"It's quite alright son, as soon as the doctor says you are well enough to
leave, I'm going to take you home to recover journey."

"Take a few minutes to rest." said the doctor. "Meanwhile, I'll bring some
tea and bread and you can eat while your father and I step outside for a
few minutes."

Dr. Spiegel and Richard stepped out onto the balcony while Augustan sat up
and drank his tea, his hand trembling as he raised the cup to his lips

"Do you know if your son had been having any health problems?" asked
Dr. Spiegel, leaning back on the railing. Richard looked down and thought
for a moment, "No, not that I know of...we hadn't kept in touch though,
just letters every few months. He always said he was well but he never went
into details."

"There's no telling what he may have caught on that ship." replied the
doctor. My best guess though would be that he was tired from the journey,
became faint and hit his head when we fell. Confusion could happen."

Richard looked up, "If that's the case, then how long before he recovers?"

"I really don't know," said the young doctor, "it could be hours..it could
be days, months. The only advice I could give you right now is to take him
home, watch for a fever or any other strange signs, and keep him off of his
feet for the next two days. He needs lots of rest and liquids. I'll take
the two of you in my carriage and I'll be sure to stop by tomorrow to check
on him, with your permission of course."

"Of course." said Richard, anxious to take his son home, "Please do."

Augustan finished his meal, lifted his covers away and paused at the side
of the bed.

"Wait, don't stand up so quickly!" said the doctor, rushing to his
side. "You need to take it easy, and you'll have to have someone helping
you. If you fall and hit your head again I hate to think of what could
happen."

Richard crossed the room and held his son's other arm as he stood up.

"I'll send Miss Bowles help attend to him, at least until he is stronger."
said Dr. Spiegel, reaching for the coat rack.

The two men managed to lift the young man into the doctor's carriage and
crossed the through the hollow and into the small bustling town. Augustan
glanced up from his father's shoulder at the vivid colored foliage they
passed. The people and the animals of the town seemed like visitors in a
gallery, blank unrecognizable faces against a sea of beautiful fall
colors. His father squeezed his shoulder in quiet comfort as the three
approached their destination.


After a long sleepless night of checking and rechecking on his sleeping
son, Richard awoke to Mrs. Bowles knocking on the front door and ready to
tend to Augustan. She quickly went about her tasks at hand.

"He needs a long soothing bath" said Mrs. Bowles, scouting the closet for
proper clothing.

Richard approached the bed and held his son's arm. "Let's see how you do
standing up Augustan." Augustan dropped one leg to the floor and then the
other. He paused, looked down and stood up slowly. "I feel stronger." he
said taking a few steps. "You can let go of me I think." Richard didn't
want to let go.

"Really, I feel strong father." said Augustan, making his way to the bath.

"I'll take him in and bathe him." said Mrs. Bowles sternly. "Don't worry,
if we need you I'll call for you."

Richard was worried already. Augustan was twice as tall as Mrs. Bowles and
he knew she would not be able to steady him if he began to fall. He sat
outside the chamber and waited patiently as the small silver haired woman
scrubbed Augustan's back. Steam drifted to the ceiling as she poured water
through his thick brown curls.

"I feel like a child." Augustan remarked, as shielded his eyes from the
suds. "I am fit enough to take care of myself, really."

"Until Dr. Spiegel tells me that you no longer need me, I'm going to be
washing behind those ears young man." smiled Mrs. Bowles. "I have four sons
myself, and I've become quite apt at dealing with stubborn mules, so
whatever you're planning do not bother, I already know about it."

With pride and modestly already been sacrificed to the day, Augustan
relented. He knew he felt much stronger, he felt good actually, but still,
this place, these people, were all unfamiliar to him.

"What's this mark on your arm?" asked Mrs. Bowles.

Augustan winced looked down at a swollen red puncture. "I don't know, but
its sore." he said pulling his shoulder toward him and glancing down. "I
don't remember." Mrs. Bowles made a mental note to mention it to the
doctor.

"Where would you like to take your tea?" she asked. "I think you are well
enough to leave the bed and sit on the porch if you'd like. The fresh air
will do you good."

"That would be nice, thank you." replied Augustan as he searched the
cabinet for a razor.

"Is everything alright in there?" Richard said from the other side of the
door.

"Yes, we are fine." answered Mrs. Bowles opening up the door. "I was just
about to give this young man a good shave, you can keep us company."

Richard walked in and sat down. There was so much he wanted to talk to his
son about, so much he wanted him to know. More importantly, so much he
wanted him to remember. "Mrs. Bowles delivered you as a baby Augustan, she
was our midwife." Richard said as he cleared his throat.

"Really?" asked Augustan, as her blade slid up his neck.

"Yes" Richard responded, "If it weren't for her, you wouldn't be here. Your
mother went into labor too soon, after being bitten by a snake. We lost
her."

Augustan pulled her hand away from his jaw and looked at his father's
concerned eyes. "So I've never known my mother?" he asked. "And you raised
me alone?"

"I did the best I could," Richard replied "and Mrs. Bowles helped take care
of you as a baby."

Augustan quietly tried to take all of this new information in as
Mrs. Bowles finished his shave and cleaned the remnants from his face. He
stood up as they hovered at his side and escorted him to the porch.

"I should be helping you." said Augustan pointing to his father's cane.

"All those years of laying tile took a toll on my knees, I'm afraid."
remarked Richard, guiding Augustan to his seat. "At first I hoped you would
carry on the trade, but when my knees worsened I decided that I did not
want you to. That's why I sent you away to school, you wanted to practice
law and although I would have rather you take over my business, I wanted
you to find your own way in life. Far be it from me to keep you from a more
respectable position."

Augustan felt overwhelmed by his father's years of caring sacrifice for his
son. Was it all for nothing? Had all the education at the expense of his
father's knees been simply forgotten?


Dr. Spiegel arrived the next day and waved as he made his way up the path
to the porch. "Good day, how is everyone? Did we have a restful night?"

"I slept well thank you, doc." said Augustan.

"Good." said Dr. Spiegel pulling up a chair anxious to examine his new
patient. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel strong, no weakness today. My mind is clearer too, but still I
can't remember a thing."

The doctor lifted Augustan's chin and peered into each eye. Mrs. Bowles
stepped out to watch. "He has something on his shoulder. It looks like a
spider bite." Augustan unbuttoned his shirt and removed his arm from his
sleeve.

The doctor studied the red swollen puncture. "Doesn't look like a spider
bite to me," he remarked. "If I didn't know better I would say it was a
hollow point needle mark. I think he was injected with something, and
violently from the looks of it. Augustan," said the doctor, looking back
into the confused man's eyes. "You have to remember what happened to you,
this could be very serious." The doctor pulled his father aside and told
him that they had to find a way to help Augustan regain his
memory. Physically he seemed fine, but whatever he was drugged with or
injected with could be dangerous.

"But how?" asked Richard, feeling helpless to the situation.

"I've heard of this man," whispered Dr. Spiegel, then he paused, unsure of
what he was about to suggest. "I've heard of this man living in Franklin
that is skilled in the use of hypnosis. It is a state of relaxing mesmerism
in which he can make suggestions to patients. It has been used to cure
hysterics, and in some cases, even retrieve memories. I have to caution you
though Mr. Golden, it's a very controversial technique. It's not proven and
I'm not sure I have any faith in it myself, but I don't think we have any
options here."

Richard looked down and then over at his son. "What's this doctor's name?"
he inquired.

"See, that's the thing Mr. Golden this man is not a doctor, he's not
trained in a medical field that I know of. I hesitate to send you and your
son to see him. His name is Jean Michel. To tell you the truth, I believe
he's just a charlatan who has been using this gimmick for financial gain
from rich lonely widows. I want to be honest with you Richard; you've been
a good friend to me."

"I appreciate that doctor, but then why suggest him?" Richard asked.

"Because I did have word from a colleague of mine down in his area that
thinks this man is truly gifted. He has been witness to his skills during
his sessions. He seems to believe it works, but that was a few years
ago. Still, I have reservations about this, I don't want to give false
hopes, but he seems to be our only resort at the moment."

Richard thought about it. "Can you inquire with him doctor? If all I have
to lose is money then so be it. In the meantime, Augustan's memory may
resurface and all of this may be unnecessary."

"Yes, of course Mr. Golden." the doctor replied. "But there is one
condition, I will have to accompany the two of you, he is my patient and I
don't want to see either of you taken advantage of by my ill-conceived
notions."

"Agreed, doctor." said Richard, "but this was my decision so think nothing
of it. You gave me all the facts as you knew them and I came to my own
conclusions, and I would very much appreciate you supervising this."

Dr. Spiegel sat down that evening and wrote an urgent letter to Jean
Michel. He dispatched a messenger and returned to his desk to compose in
his journal. He detailed Augustan's plight and mysterious condition, and
then paused to take off his spectacles and rest his eyes.

Augustan was an interesting case, a departure from his mundane small town
injuries and illnesses, but he couldn't let one case become reason to
neglect the others. Still, there was something about Augustan that captured
his thoughts. Just being in his proximity stirred something within him;
perhaps it was the curve of his bare shoulder, exposed for examination, or
his soft full lips as he spoke. The doctor thought of himself as just a
dedicated physician, a man of science and ethics, and these uncomfortable
feelings were never an issue before

He stood up from his desk and stepped outside into the cool autumn air. He
needed to shake this, quickly. It was a dangerous trail of thought, and he
was determined not to follow it.