THE LITERARY WORLD OF THOMAS DADE
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    • Good for the gander
I would like to take you back, if I may, to a time when observing the deformities of man and beast were looked upon as a delightfully eccentric pastime; events that were to be enjoyed and mused upon by a Victorian population obsessed with feeding an increasingly morbid curiosity. Gentlemen and rogues alike, in cylinder hats and open frock coats would gather, shoulder-to-shoulder at the wide open mouths of canvas tents, hankering after a glimpse of the dark secrets within. Equally enthusiastic, the ladies, dressed to the nines in bustles and bonnets, concealing patched complexions beneath the cover of dainty parasols, and blissfully unaware of the common thieves that lurked in the gatherings, waiting for opportunity to shake them by the hand.

As unlikely as it may sound, this was where the two worlds would often meet, and from where our macabre story begins; in the darkest, most dismal place imaginable; a place where hopes and dreams would inexorably drown in the silent tears of mankind; for this, ladies and gentlemen, was the mysterious world of the freak show.

LONDON 1888

The crowded billboard advertised a fire-eater, a bearded lady and a dog-faced boy; sights that were guaranteed to bewilder and mesmerise. A sixpence charge to witness the bottle babies preserved in formaldehyde, and the two-headed goat bearing horns like that of his creator. The Devil’s work, indeed; yet nothing could prepare one for the ghastly sight that awaited them behind that inner tent; a human monstrosity so grotesque that it would likely cause a respectable lady to faint, and even the most broad-minded of men to quail. This was the world of Jeremiah Wendal, ‘The Human Slug’.

Given the absence of all four limbs and the appended affliction of a deformed cranium, Jeremiah was seen as an example of nature in its cruellest of forms; an abomination that defined abnormality. Yet beyond the ignorance, Jeremiah suffered from a condition that would one-day come be known as tetra-amelia syndrome, and that in itself provided yet one more cruel twist of irony, as Amelia was also the name of the love of his life. French-born Amelia Delacroix was one-half of conjoined females, the other half being, Esther. Their union, from collar to crotch, together with a genetic defect resulting in the claw-like appearance of both the hands and the feet, gave rise to the billing, ‘The Crab Twins’, and rendered them a popular attraction in Captain Tong’s Museum of Curiosities.

31st of OCTOBER – ALL HALLOWS’ EVE

One squally, fog-laden night, high above a field dotted with tents, the faint knell of a distant church bell escorted the moon through a labyrinth of fragmented clouds. Inside one of the tents, an orange glow radiated from an old storm lantern, illuminating the faces of the Delacroix twins. Tearful, Amelia brushed through her long, wavy hair; her crystalline eyes sparkling as she gazed into the flame.
“Jeremiah has a good heart,” she reasoned, “He is kind and Godly.”
“But he doesn’t know you like I do, Amelia. You would soon tire of his constant need and I could not bear to see you cry yourself to sleep at night.”
“You have no idea what rejection would do to him, Esther? He is a very sensitive man.”
“I don’t speak to the contrary, but is that a good enough reason to accept his proposal of marriage? And where would I fit into this ludicrous arrangement? I would have to sleep in the same bed as him. Whenever his flesh touched against you, it would also be touching against me.”
Amelia laid down the hairbrush and stared deep into Esther’s eyes. “Why won’t you let me have this one thing,” she whimpered, “this one chance to experience male companionship?”
“I don’t expect you to understand, Amelia; why should you? The Devil has blinded you with lust and one day you will expect God to forgive your misguided ways.”
“God?! Look at us, Esther! What merciful God would do this to us? We are two people, yet we have just four limbs between us; neither do we have fingers like the others…” Amelia slammed her claw-like hand down upon the table. “Look!” she bellowed, “Does that look like a hand to you?!”
“Amelia, stop it, else God will strike you down and I too shall perish by your blasphemous words. God meant for us to be this way; giving yourself to an able-bodied man would not be normal, let alone a man without limbs.”
“Esther, when was the last time you looked into a child’s eyes and saw anything other than fear and resentment?”
Esther averted her stare.
“Your silence speaks volumes, for you know in your heart of hearts that God has forsaken us. He abandoned us at birth along with our mother. Look at us, Esther, we’re freaks! Nothing we ever do will be normal!”
In a tent across the way, Jeremiah was being tended to by his aid, Percy Farrow.
“There we are,” smiled Percy, having buttoned up Jeremiah’s bed shirt, “all done and dusted.”
“Is everything alright with you, Percy? You seem somewhat distant tonight.”
“Is it that obvious? Truth be told, I’ve been wondering what will happen to me if Amelia accepts you invitation of marriage. I seem destined to become surplus to requirements.”
“Nonsense, you’re friendship is indispensable. Besides, I fear Esther will need entertaining whilst I whisper sweet nothings in Amelia’s ear.”
“Entertaining? I think you mean comforting, judging by her demeanour.”
“You could be right,” smiled Jeremiah, “that’s if Amelia ever gets round to accepting my proposal.”
“It’s hardly a decision to be taken lightly.”
“You mean when the equation includes a man with my physique.”
“I didn’t say that, Jeremiah. Amelia loves you for what you are; a fool could see that.”
“Yes, I’d say she does. Who would have thought that I could ever love, much less, be loved.”
Percy smiled as he tucked in his faithful friend before turning to leave.
“It’s no more than you deserve. Besides, everyone is entitled to a little happiness.”

As the hours dwindled away, the Delacroix twins became ever restless in their bed. Amelia was the first to stir. “Esther,” she called, “Esther, can you smell that?”
“Oh, for goodness sake, go back to sleep.”
The sisters lay still in their bed as the putrid odour continued to infiltrate the tent.
“Good grief! Now I can smell it! What do you think it is, Amelia?”
“I don’t know, but I think we should investigate further.”
Reluctantly, Esther slipped on one half of a bed jacket, whilst Amelia slipped on the other half and reached for the storm lantern. Esther grabbed the meat cleaver that was lying next to the stove.
“What do you need that for?”
“What do you think? Anyone could be out there. I hear they’ve still not caught that ‘Jack the Ripper’. He’s been butchering women like animals, by all accounts.”
“You have such a vivid imagination. Come next week, he’ll be locked up and no one will ever hear his name mentioned again; you mark my words.”
“Scoff all you want, Amelia, but a man like that would think nothing of slicing open your gizzard with a swish of his cold, steel blade.”
“I think we can dispense with the scaremongering for the time being, don’t you? Come on, let’s get this over with.”
The fog had by now descended, and little could be seen as they hobbled between the tents in a rather ungainly fashion.
“There’s nothing,” announced, Esther, “Come on, we may as well turn back before our return path is lost to the night.”
Noticing an illuminated tent, Amelia paused for a moment. “Wait! There’s a light on in Jeremiah’s tent.”
“Oh, I see; that’s what all this is about, is it… a midnight liaison?!”
“Of course it’s not! But while we’re here, we may as well check that’s he’s alright. You said it yourself; there could be anyone out there.”
“Doesn’t he have Percy for protection?”
“For goodness sake, Esther, where’s your compassion?”
“I left it back in our tent along with the feather quilt.”
The two sisters continued their journey to Jeremiah’s tent.
“Jeremiah,” called Amelia in a subdued voice, “Jeremiah, are you in there?”
Esther sighed. “Well he can hardly go out for a walk now, can he?!”
Once inside, they could see Jeremiah was lying in the bed with his eyes wide open.
“Oh, dear God!” cried, Esther, “He’s as dead as a doornail!”
“Don’t be absurd, woman! I can clearly see his chest moving up and down. Jeremiah, where is Percy?”
“He’s gone back to his tent. Please, come in, this is not a night for ladies to be roaming; though I see from your axe you have come prepared, Esther. The question is; what brings you here at this ungodly hour?”
“The smell,” replied Esther, sarcastically.
“What Esther means to say is, we were investigating a rather peculiar stench when we saw your light shining through the fog. It seemed only courteous to check on your well-being.”
“How very thoughtful of you. It’s nice to know that someone cares. Seeing as you’re here, may I be so bold as to ask whether you have reached a decision regarding my proposal of marriage?”
“She has,” interjected Esther, “and she’s come to the conclusion that she requires more time in which to consider; perhaps another six months or so?
“Esther! I can answer for myself, if you please.”
  “I take it Esther still has her reservations?”
“I am still here!” said Esther, “And you’re right; it’s just not practical; a fact that seems glaringly obvious to everyone but you two. I mean, look at you; you are without arms or legs.”
“That hadn’t altogether escaped my attention.”
“So you’re not able to eat, drink, dress… in fact, you are no more use than a pickled egg in a vegan’s pantry.”
“That’s enough, Esther! I won’t have you talk to my future husband like that!”
“It’s alright,” said Jeremiah, who then suddenly paused. “What did you just say?”
“I said, that’s enough; I won’t have you talk… to my future husband like that.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” demanded Esther, “You’ll get married over my dead body!”
“Only if we can’t find an altar,” replied, Amelia, “Whether you like it or not, from this moment forward, I am betrothed to the man you see before you. A man whom I shall love and care for until the day I die.”
“Have you completely taken leave of your senses?!” enraged Esther, “I forbid it!”
“You can’t stop me, Esther. My mind is made up.”
“We’ll see about that!”
Incensed, Esther raised the cleaver above her head and, as Amelia attempted to protect herself, slammed it down upon her sister’s claw-like appendage. With the partially severed claw hanging by a thread, Jeremiah and Esther gagged as Amelia swayed back and forth in a semi-conscious state.
“What in God’s name have you done?” gasped Jeremiah.
With the weight of her sister becoming increasingly burdensome, Esther dragged Amelia towards him. “You are the Devil incarnate, Jeremiah,” she snarled, as she once more raised the cleaver above her head, “I renounce thee as I renounce evil!”
As the sisters lurched forward, the plummeting cleaver carried out its gruesome task.
So blood-curdling were the sounds resonating through the fields on that God-forsaken night that subsequent campfire tales speculated about Jack’s own handy work; whilst God-fearing storytellers claimed it to be that of the banshee keening long into the night as she lamented over the dead twins. Whatever the truth, the story will live on with the one piece of provenance that remains; an exhibit stolen by my great, great grandfather, Percy Farrow; the claw-like hand displayed in a glass box that wasn’t just a tribute to the skill of the taxidermist, but a symbol of the undying love Jeremiah had for his life-long sweetheart, Amelia Delacroix.

                                                                                                                THE END

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