“Do not put words in my mouth, Edgar! Never once have I called you an ‘amateur’ and insulting you in such a way has never even entered my mind, so it is impossible that the word ‘amateur’ has ever rolled off my tongue in your direction! I know you are a skilled hunter! But a liaison will only prove to harm your focus! Let us hypothesize that your friendship with Ms. Osgood leads to marriage. Better yet, let’s say you are not married, but you take her as your mistress. A rift in your relationship will cause you to become emotional, become hurt on a mental level, and that will lead you to lose your concentration. The result will be a win for the monstrosities we hunt and thus more innocents will die!”
“You are out of order, Quincy! These are all fantasy situations you are conjuring in your mind! You cannot foretell the future! I will not allow you to imagine consequences and spew general inferences of how a relationship will impact my skill as a hunter! I am an adult, not a child. You cannot judge me for my actions. Out of all people, you should understand a human’s flawed nature and realize that we are not perfect. God bestowed us with the ability to love and I refuse to ignore this and cheat myself of the opportunity to attain something so natural and wonderful!”
The verbal onslaught intensified with Quincy countering Poe’s argument by claiming that it was an irrelevant topic. “We are not discussing that in the slightest! I know humans are flawed by nature! You need not remind me! And I am not making generalizations, you hear? I am trying to understand how you can move on with another woman so soon after the unfortunate death of your wife! How can you dishonor your oath to Virginia thus casting her aside for this woman?”
Poe’s eyes filled with rage and his teeth clenched together as he exhibited a furious expression. Rage and anger boiled over to create a volcano of fury and madness. His comrade had crossed a personal red line and Poe was not going to let Quincy get away with it unscathed. “You dare mention my Virginia? You dare question the love and devotion I still hold for her?”
“Edgar, I apologize for my grave error…”
“You shut your mouth, you dirty dog! You… halfwit! You expect me to stand here and let you speak my wife’s name from out of your foul mouth? You never even met her! I will not let you spoil her memory and minimize the grief I still hold for her just so you can serve your dastardly purposes in a debate against me! Mark my words, Nathaniel Quincy, you not only committed ‘a grave error,’ but you have sinned against me by mucking the name of my Virginia and using her death as a verbal weapon in your unwarranted attack against me!”
“There is no need for these insults! I apologize deeply from the bottom of my heart and I regret mentioning Virginia in this fight! I promise not to meddle in your personal life again. I am a man of my word and I stand by this oath.”
“You are right about that! Because if you meddle again, I will provide you with the opportunity to apologize to Virginia in the afterlife! Now, be gone from my room this instant! I order you out! Out!”
Quincy looked at Poe with disappointment and guilt. He decided to respect Poe and follow his orders, leaving the room in a bitter ending to their quarrel and he could feel the swarm of blame that surrounded him as he walked down the hall.
Alone, Poe sat on the edge of his bed and looked at the clothes spread out on his bed. The energy and anticipation he harbored about surprising Frances had left his being. After the fight with Quincy, he decided it was best to delay his meeting with Frances until a more suitable day.
• • •
Across town, Frances was in her house cozying up to a book of poetry in the parlor. Her home was beautiful on the inside with flowers and holiday ornaments brightly decorating the walls and corners. Only three rooms were contained within the house, but Frances still managed to maintain a small library for her reading activities. She wore a blue gigot silk dress and the aroma of her daisy perfume surrounded her essence. Her dark black hair was tied up in its usual bun.
As she was enjoying the tercet of a particularly romantic poem, there came a rapping at her door. A feeling of uncertainty and apprehension gripped her as she was not expecting any callers. Without pondering about it further, Frances shook off her apprehension and marched toward the door. Upon opening it, she saw a man in his mid-30s who sported dark hair and a goatee.
Without hesitation, the man spoke. “Evening, my good lady. My name is Andrew Smythe. I am seeking rich conversation and camaraderie, and this house beckoned to me. I am new to Baltimore and do not know a soul in this municipality. Perhaps you will join me on a tour of the city? I find the streets to be a peaceful and beautiful sight in the evening. Might you agree?”
Frances was hesitant to join the man at his behest as she thought it strange of him to show up at the time of night seeking solace. Although, his appearance was not haggard and he seemed to be an honest and kind gentleman, sincere in his actions. Thus, she accepted his invitation and excused herself, so she could retrieve her shawl. She reasoned within herself that she was tired of being locked inside her house when the fresh atmosphere of Baltimore was aglow beneath the streetlights.
She returned to Andrew and responded to his greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Smythe. I am Frances Osgood and I, like you, am fairly new to Baltimore. Let us walk and enjoy ourselves this eve.”
“I’m indebted to you, Ms. Osgood. Thank you for your kind gesture.”
The gentleman and the lady started their stroll. The pair took in the sights, surveying the brick buildings and quiet businesses that presented themselves past operating hours. It was at that moment that Frances commented on the scenery. “The sight of Baltimore at night is a beauty to behold, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I do, madam. Almost as beautiful as you are, I dare say.”
“You are charming indeed! I pray you tell me more about yourself, Mr. Smythe!”
“With pleasure. I grew up in Bridgeport, Connecticut, but moved to Baltimore for a change of scenery. I do this often because I adore traveling to new places and relish the feeling of rebirth that accompanies such a transition. I work as a teacher as I love the energy of children. It is a passion of mine to enrich them with knowledge and a good education.”
Frances smiled upon learning this and his words impressed her. She found herself attracted by the idea of a man who wanted to earn a living through guiding youngsters. “It brings me great bliss and pleasure to learn this about you, Mr. Smythe! I adore your passion for children!”
“Thank you kindly! What about you? What is your title and career?”
“I am a poet in my spare time, but I make a living wage as a cook in a nearby hospital.”
Andrew decided to show his appreciation for Frances’s ventures with a smile before deciding to change the subject. “I must ask, Ms. Osgood…”
“Call me Frances, I pray you. I do not like to be called ‘Ms. Osgood’ because it makes me feel like a grandmother.”
“My apologies. You are as youthful as one of the children I teach, no doubt. But I must ask, dear Frances,” he paused and gazed into her eyes, “what is a woman such as yourself doing without a man by her side?”
“What do you mean?” Frances asked with curiosity.
“You are beautiful, smart, and powerful. You flow with independence and vivacious energy. Why not trade your independence for a happy life with a man who is devoted to you?”
Frances’s cheeks blushed redder than a tomato. She was flattered by the gentleman’s attempts to compliment her. As she was about to reply, Andrew lifted her hand and kissed it. At that moment, Frances realized he was talking about himself. “Are you suggesting we start a relationship? But I just met you, sir.”
“I know this is sudden, but please understand that I have nothing except your best interests at heart. Where is the harm in forming this relationship? I will care about you in the same way I care about my children, the children that are my passion and my life. You, Frances, will be
no different. I want to begin a bond with you that will last for all eternity.”
“Andrew, I do not appreciate your attempt at luring me outside of my home in the hopes of starting a relationship with me. You are a stranger with whom I believe has the capacity to become a good friend, but at this point, a relationship is nothing I care to entertain.”
Frances stepped away from Andrew and started walking in the direction of her home. “I bid you farewell, Mr. Smythe.”
Andrew called out after her, “Before you go, you must hear my final argument. Tomorrow, I may die. Tomorrow, you might die. We can’t gaze into the future and discover what will happen. Thus, I believe we can create our own futures with what we have in the present. You must agree with me.”
Reflecting on Andrew’s words, Frances halted her steps. She did agree with him about the uncertainty of the future but was hesitant to begin a whirlwind relationship with a someone she just met. “I am conflicted. You are binding my hands with your offer. We have only just met and to entertain your offer would be extremely premature. However, you are correct about the future being fraught with ambiguity. If I don’t find a mate soon my chances for the future prove to be dismal and lonesome.”
“Not to mention,” Andrew added, “you are within reason to be wary of this relationship.”
After fully contemplating the situation, Frances delivered the verdict by accepting the gentleman’s offer, but only for the reason of sampling the relationship and being vigilant of its direction. After agreeing to become more acquainted, the pair continued their walk through the city streets.
Meanwhile, Poe was headed to the market to purchase food for his kitchen. Not wanting to believe his eyes, he stopped dead in his tracks. Across the street, he saw Frances walking with the gentleman. A variety of emotions and feelings suddenly swirled in his head and heart, and his mind tormented him with confusion and turmoil. Andrew sensed Poe’s presence nearby and turned toward him. Poe was unable to move as Frances’ companion locked eyes with him. Poe’s blood turned to ice as Andrew smiled at him as his eyes flashed red, revealing himself to be the demon known as Alkazan.
Chapter 10
It was a damp and dreary afternoon in Baltimore and Francis was passing the day by tending to chores inside her home. She wore a soft cotton sleeveless dress that was the color of English ivy and the apron covering it was white when she slipped it on but had since become tarnished with dirt and filth. As she was removing items from the mantle in preparation of giving it a good dusting, a knock on the door interrupted her, much like the occurrences of the previous eve. “I must be popular in this city!” Frances thought in agitation. “Many want to visit, yet they choose the most inopportune times to do so!”
She threw open the front door with every intention of shooing away the mystery caller, but instead stood frozen in complete shock as she could hardly believe her eyes. There, in the flesh, was none other than Edgar Allan Poe looking very dapper in a polished grey suit atop a crisp white dress shirt and a sunny yellow vest. A white cravat completed his ensemble, and not one hair on his head was out of place.
The huntsman had gathered his wits to surprise the dame after all and was thrilled to witness the happiness that blossomed upon her face when she saw him for the first time. Poe cleared his throat to stifle a chuckle, which was rising to the surface not just because he was so pleased with himself, but also because her expression was rather comical as she stood in the doorway with her mouth agape, eyes bulging, and her cheeks turning to a deep shade of rosy red.
“Good day, Ms. Osgood… I mean, Frances! It is I, Edgar Allan Poe. It is an honor to finally be in your presence and feel the warmth of your beauty chasing away the wicked chill of this cold, harsh day.” Poe noticed the dusting rag in her hand and suddenly felt a tad guilty for surprising her. “I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you with my unannounced visit!”
Before answering the question, Frances noticed that Poe had his arms behind his back, possibly hiding a gift he brought her. Clearing her throat, she replied, “That depends, Mr. Poe. Are you concealing something behind your back?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Poe revealed a grand bouquet of wildflowers and the sight of their brilliance delighted Frances. “Oh, my! Thank you, Edgar, they’re simply gorgeous!” She took a step back and opened the door wider, “Please, come in while I fetch a vase.”
Edgar happily obliged while Frances walked into the kitchen chattering as she was overcome with a mixture of nervousness and excitement, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you for the first time, but I must apologize for looking like such a mess! I was hoping to appear at my finest for our initial greeting, so I apologize for not being ready for your visit! Not in my wildest dreams did I hazard to guess you would come to my home unannounced, but you know what they say, no time like the present!”
She returned carrying a crystal vase half filled with water and took the bouquet from Poe’s hand. “I am just so thrilled to finally meet you! And I would also like to express my guilt for the house being in disarray,” she mumbled as she gently placed the flowers into the vessel and placed it on a table beside the front door.
Poe took Frances’ hands in his and gave her a warm smile. “My dear Frances, it pains me to hear you express sorrow for the way you are dressed and for the disappointment you have in your house. No matter what you are wearing, you will always be beautiful in my eyes, and there is nothing wrong with your house, either. The daisies, the ornaments, they all match your level of exquisiteness. Your house is brighter than a thousand candles and you are the prettiest woman in all of Baltimore.”
Upon hearing Poe’s compliments, Frances could feel her cheeks warming, so she turned her blushing face away from him and chuckled in a slight manner. Collecting herself, she turned and met Poe’s eyes. “You are sweeter than all the cookies in the world! But, I’m curious. Tell me, was it my letter that convinced you to visit?”
Poe guided her over to the leather sofa in the parlor and the pair sat down as Poe replied, “Yes, indeed! Your letter was the catalyst that gave me the courage and wherewithal to mastermind this impromptu visit. Your poem was also a factor as it was one of the most excellent pieces of writing I have ever encountered in my lifetime. You, madam, are a natural poet!”
Frances shook her head and retorted, “Now, Poe, that cannot be true. Saying that I’m a ‘natural’ implies that I was born with the talent, but that is not the case. I learned everything I know from studying your work.”
Poe gave her a coy smile. “Thank you for your kind words. While I am flattered to discover you have been an invisible apprentice of mine, I still believe you to be born with the gift to pen poetry,” he sighed, then decided it was time to change the subject. “Even though I enjoyed your letters immensely, it brings me much happiness to be here conversing with you in person. I must admit that I was planning on surprising you the previous night, but I got distracted by an event and thus could not make it.”
“Thank you for being so candid, Edgar, but there’s no need to apologize. Besides, yesterday would have been very bad timing. I was away from home enjoying the sights of Baltimore and would not have heard you rapping on my door.”
Poe was inching closer to discussing the man he saw with Frances but did not know how to properly broach the subject. He wanted so badly to reveal that her date was not a man at all, but a demon, and felt that she deserved to know the truth. However, he decided it was best to avoid the topic completely because he did not want to spoil the mood. Furthermore, he feared this information would cause him look like a stalker in her mind. He, instead, continued with the original track of the conversation.
Poe continued, “Well, then! I suppose we should chalk it up to fate that I came calling today rather than yesterday. Regardless, I am glad we are here now enjoying each other’s company. I must confess that while I took pleasure crafting my letters to you, it gave me an odd feeling filling yo
ur doorstep with endless envelopes. Although, I thought it necessary to establish this informal line of communication with you instead of immediately forging a bond by introducing myself the minute you settled into Baltimore. I figured it would be brash to do such a thing.”
Frances snickered after hearing Poe’s comment and reassured him that he did the right thing by establishing communication with her via the post. She then recounted the first time she became acquainted with his work. It was when she read his story titled “Ligeia” as she was flipping through a publication by the Baltimore American Museum that she came to admire Poe’s craft. Frances emphasized how fascinated she was with its plot and how Ligeia, the story’s protagonist, is revived in the end.
“I have never read a story quite as extraordinary as that piece,” Frances commented. “It led me to be enamored with your ingenuity and creative style.”
“I thank you kindly for the compliment. I must agree that it is one of my greatest works, and it excites me that you are so enamored with me. Likewise, I am just as captivated by your writing! I thought the poem you sent along with your letter was extraordinary.”
Frances was overcome with excitement and rose from the couch in haste. “I’d be honored to have you read some more of my poetry!” she exclaimed as she strode across the room to the bookcase beside the window of the parlor and pulled a notebook full of poetry she had written. She returned to the couch to show Poe what she had composed herself. “This is a collection of all of the poems I’ve written during spare moments and would appreciate it if you would read them. They are nothing more than experiments, but I do hope to turn my passion for writing poetry into a career. I would like to be as successful as you one day.”
Poe squirmed upon hearing these words spill from Frances’ lips. He thought to himself if only she knew that his “successful writing career” was the product of a demonic deal he made in exchange for his soul in ten years, she may never want to see him again. Due to this reasoning, Poe had no intention of revealing these circumstances to Frances, so he shook off the gloom that was beginning to consume him, smiled at her and took the notebook. “My dear Frances, it would make my evening much better and more delightful if I fed my eyes with the work you have completed.”
Poe the Hunter- Bedlam in Baltimore Page 7
