Anonymous - Dara

One evening early in March he struggled to a sitting position in his bed and said, 'I haven't got long to live, Dara. Will you stay with me until the end?'

'Don't talk like that, Lionel,' I answered. 'Soon we will be getting warmer weather and then you'll feel much better, so let's hear no more talk of death.'

Gazing across, as if he was seeing the very spectre of death awaiting him, he said in a voice little above a whisper, 'Nearly all my life I've been conscious of some dark indefinable menace forever dogging my footsteps, lurking and threatening, awaiting the time to spring upon me. In a way I'm relieved that I now know its name is consumption and my life is drawing to a finish. It is no good you saying otherwise; I know. I'm asking you again. Will you stay with me until the end? I may yet have a few more months to live.'

He turned his face to mine. 'Will you?'

'Yes,' I replied, 'I promise that, come what may, I will remain with you to the very end, but let's not talk about such a doleful subject any more.'

'I'm sorry, Dara, but we have to talk about it. There are some important decisions to be made. When I die I want to be in Newport by the sea with a boyhood friend who married a cousin of mine. If you can get me as far as New York I can be put on a boat which will take me to Newport. Will you do that for me, Dara?'

'Of course I will,' I answered. 'I'll go all the way with you if you want me to.'

He sank down on the pillows and closed his eyes and after a little while, seeing he was asleep, I made my way back to my one room apartment.

The next day he called Bob Derry and me into his office and, without any further ado, began to make preparations for his departure for Newport. Addressing us both, he said, 'I'm leaving Chicago and going to Newport. The building will have to be sold and as I have no strength to attend to this matter myself I want you, Bob, to negotiate that sale on my behalf. Here is a note which states that you are to act as my agent for the sale of the property. Get the best price you can, but make it a quick sale as I want to be on my way as soon as possible.'

At this surprising turn of events, Bob Derry stood there non-plussed.

'On your way, Bob,' snapped Lionel irritably. 'There is no time to waste.'

After Bob had departed, he addressed me. 'Visit all the medical men and pharmacists in town, Dara. Tell them that I'm closing the health institution and selling off all my effects including the Electropathic Machine. I'll leave it to you to get the best price you can.'

During the week that followed we had 'would-be' buyers viewing the property with Bob Deny in tow, and representatives of the medical profession bargaining about prices for the effects. By the end of the week the building was but an empty shell apart from Lionel's bed. I was sitting on the end of the bed discussing with Lionel the details of our journey to New York when a bluff, hearty man in his middle years walked into the institution.

'What are you doing here?' he questioned us in a loud voice. 'This is my property.'

I was pleased to hear that the building had been sold and made known to him who we were and asked him the whereabouts of Bob Deny.

'Mr. Deny,' he exclaimed, 'sold me the building two days ago for cash. He would have it no other way. He told me that he was leaving that day for Cincinnati to meet you, Doctor Shepherd, to hand over the money.'

'But Doctor Shepherd is not in Cincinnati,' I protested. 'He is here as you can see for yourself.'

'Whatever arrangement you made with Deny is none of my concern,' he barked. 'I now own this property and here is the bill of sale to prove it.'

I handed on the bill of sale to Lionel for his perusal. After studying it for a moment or two, he got up and, with a look of hopeless resignation, turned saying, 'That crook, Bob Deny, has absconded with the money. There is nothing we can do about it. This gentleman is undoubtedly the new owner of the building.'

When the full effect of what had happened sank in I punched the air and flung myself about shouting, 'I always knew that swine was as crooked as a dog's hind leg but you, Lionel, like a fool, trusted him. God help us; what are we to do now?'

I looked at the new owner of the institution.

'I'm sorry for you folks,' he said, 'but you'll have to leave now. And when I say now, I mean today.'

Taking Lionel by the arm I got him outside then went back to drag out his bed. Stopping a man who was passing I offered him two dollars if he would carry the bed to my room near 'The Dog's Head'. After a little bargaining we settled the arrangement for three dollars.

When I got Lionel installed in my room we considered his finances and found that there was enough money to get him to Newport with a little left over. I was in much about the same position but still had some jewellery to sell if I needed more. Most of my money had gone for rent and food for Elmer. After Elmer and I had been parted I earned enough at the health institution to keep myself without dipping into my savings.

Within two days we were on our way to New York. The journey was tiring and a strain on Lionel. He became steadily worse before we reached Albany where we rested for a week with Lionel in bed the whole time we were there.

He was so thin and haggard you could clearly see the shape of his skull beneath the skin. His graveyard cough shook his weakened frame and left him breathless and sweating profusely. He was just skin and bones by the time we got off the boat that had brought us down the Hudson River to New York. A cab took us to a hotel just off Broadway where I engaged two rooms as I was unable to get any sleep with Lionel coughing all night.

After settling him in bed I purchased from nearby shops sufficient food and drink to keep us going for a few days. When I returned I ran to his bedside to see how he had fared in my absence. He lay like someone dead but he was still breathing so I prepared a meal, looking in on him from time to time to see if he was alright. I was ravenously hungry and wolfed down my food and then prepared a plate of cooked chicken that would be ready for Lionel when he should awaken from his sleep.

Going to my bed I lay down for a little rest but sleep must have overtaken me for it was getting dark when I next opened my eyes. Making my way into Lionel's room I found him sitting up in bed and talking to someone, but there was no one else in the room. Nodding and smiling and looking intently first in one direction and then in another, he seemed to be in conversation with several invisible people standing around his bed. Bringing a chair alongside his bed I sat down and held his hand trying to claim his attention.

'Lionel,' I cried, looking around nervously and fearful as he spoke seemingly to someone behind me. Pulling at his hand I tried once more to gain his attention. He suddenly exclaimed, 'Mother! How good it is to see you again.' His voice quivered emotionally in his excitement. The air in the room seemed to become eerily cold-and frightening. I withdrew my hand from his and backed towards the door looking fearfully around the room as Lionel's voice greeted more relatives and friends from the past.

There was a creepy sensation across my skull as if hundreds of small spiders were crawling through the roots of my hair. It was as though the bedroom was filled with phantoms of the dead who had come to welcome Lionel to their ethereal life. The room was in complete darkness by now but I could sense the presence of spirits from another world moving about in animated conversation with Lionel.

Sinking to the floor, I huddled up with my hands about my head. In my childhood when the wind brought pieces of brickwork rattling down the chimney my mother used to utter the words of an old folk prayer to ward off the evil spirits and I found myself begging the intervention of the Deity in the same manner as I shivered in fear. 'From ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night, the Good Lord, deliver us.' The last words of the prayer had just left my lips when something seemed to brush past me. In a choking agony of terror I struggled blindly with the door handle and with blessed relief managed to open it and escape down the stairs into the lamp light of the street.