Pursuit of Happiness ( fiction)

The night is moonless, with a cold mist hanging in the air, creating a halo of light from the lantern that bathes the man’s handsome face in a soft, warm glow. The man sweats from his labors, defying the chill of the night, his black hair plastered to his forehead. He toils away, working toward his goal. His companion this evening is Mrs. Luxorp. She was a woman of great renown who was truly disliked by all that knew her, so he does not feel particularly bad about relieving her of her unneeded worldly possessions.  He digs some more, waiting for the knowing clank of metal on wood that tells him that he has arrived at his target. He throws another shovel full of dirt out of the hole, distracting himself from his gruesome labors by envisioning his life to come. He’s almost there. The scratching sounds of the shovel moving the dirt are a soothing white noise, playing against the background to his dreams.

Finally, his shovel strikes home with a dull thud. He quickly clears off the top of the casket and, throwing his shovel aside, reaches for his crow bar. He makes quick work of prying the lid open, revealing the pallid visage of Mrs. Luxorp. She lies in repose with her horrible face skewed by the distortion of decomposition. She wears an expensive silk dress, and is adorned in her favorite jewels. He removes her necklace and bracelet, examining them in the light of his lantern. They should fetch a fair price in London’s underbelly markets. He quickly puts them in his pocket and bends to his final task. He lifts the talon that is Mrs. Luxorp’s left hand and gently twists the ring off her finger. After a minute of careful twisting pressure, the ring slips over the gnarled knuckle.

The ring is a true work of art. It is a large sapphire, surrounded by diamonds, encased in delicate filigree platinum. As he holds it to the light, the true color of the stone reveals itself to be as deep as the bluest ocean; the diamonds sparkle, casting hundreds of tiny rainbows. Mesmerized by the beauty of the ring, he is brought back to his earlier dreams of his life to come. He can imagine how this ring will look on the hand of his beloved, its delicacy paled only by the hand that wears it. Tomorrow is the day that he will place it on her hand as his promise of betrothal.

                                                *******************

            Tom met Mary in a small country church where they were attending the wedding of a mutual friend. He had travelled many miles to attend, but every mile was worth it after laying eyes on Mary. He thought she embodied every asset a woman should have. Tom saw her as proper and sweet; beautiful, but not in a garish way. She looked his way, and gave him a subtle smile. That was it for Tom. He fell in love on the spot.

He knew that Mary was out of his league, but he couldn’t deny his feelings for her. So he approached Mary’s Aunt Julia, with whom she lived, and asked for her permission to take Mary for a walk. The old aunt was surprised, but also saw the gleam of love in the young man’s eyes, so she agreed to allow him to spend time with her niece. Secretly, she didn’t think Mary would give this young man too much time or consideration. Julia had been very worried about her niece for some time because the girl was just too quiet and aloof, never really connecting with her aunt on any meaningful level. Mary spent her days in solitary endeavors, rarely engaging with the other girls her age, or anyone else, for that matter. Julia chalked this up to the tragic circumstances that left Mary in her care.

                                                ***************

Mary was the daughter of Julia’s late sister and her husband. When Mary was 12 years old, her parents were killed in a fluke accident that left Mary with no one to care for her. At the burials of her sister and her brother-in-law, Julia was approached by a solicitor, who informed her that she had been named as the only living relative to her sister, and that the charge of raising Mary had been left to her. The solicitor informed her that if she didn’t take the child, she would be placed in an orphanage, and her inheritance would go to the state for her support. He also told her that, if she chose to take Mary, the money left to the child (which was substantial) would be available to her until Mary married or reached the age of 21, at which point Mary would inherit her parent’s estate. Julia agreed to take the child and raise her. 

When Julia brought Mary to her home, Mary was despondent. Julia thought this was due to the profound grief she thought the child was experiencing due to the loss of her parents. Julia showed her to the room that would be hers. It was a large room, light-filled by a triple bank of 12 light windows. Julia had decorated the room for her niece, filling it with all of the things she thought a 12 year old girl would want. There was a large canopy bed, covered in a delicate eyelet spread and topped with pillows in pastel shades of pink and yellow. The bed was placed so that each morning, the first view of its occupant would be the expansive rose gardens outside the windows. The floor was covered in a plush carpet of white and green, which was always warm from the sunlight pouring in through the windows. There was a vanity that held the brush set that had belonged to Mary’s mother, as well as scents and lotions appropriate for a girl of 12.

Mary entered her new room, looked around, nodded to her aunt and shut the door. Julia thought it best not to push the girl to come out of her shell. She thought if she gave it some time, Mary would emerge from her solitude on her own accord. Julia was still waiting for this to happen when young Tom came along.

                                                ******************

Tom and Mary spent warm, early June days on the shore of the river that ran by Aunt Julia’s estate, eating picnic lunches. The young couple did not talk very much, but Tom didn’t notice. He was so thrilled to just be in her company. He never thought a girl like Mary would be willing to spend time with him. He hoped that she had feelings for him that were similar to his own, but he was afraid to ask. For her part, Mary was content to spend these days with Tom. He was a pleasant, handsome man with blue eyes, black hair and a body that showed he was capable of hard work. He had no airs and, even though she was quiet and aloof, she felt she might be able to trust him.

Mary never liked living at the estate and longed for the day that she could return to London, this time as an adult with her own income. She looked upon Tom as a means to accomplish this goal sooner rather than later. On the last day of Tom’s visit, she took young Tom down to the river shore, out of sight of the house and her aunt, and kissed him. She told him that she loved him and was ready to plan a life with him. She told him that she wanted to move to London and establish a home with him. Tom was elated at Mary’s revelations, and immediately went to Aunt Julia to ask for Mary’s hand in marriage.

Aunt Julia was more than willing to give her consent. She had doubted that Mary would ever marry, and doubted this marriage would ever take place. But plans were made and a date was set. Tom would return to London immediately. Once there, he would make preparations for Mary’s arrival in 6 months time. He left for London in four days.

            As the miles from the estate increased, so did Tom’s realization that he had a real problem. He had not told Mary and Aunt Julia what his life in London was really like. He had alluded to owning a home and having a thriving business when, in fact, these were just dreams of a future that was not yet his. He spent the next 5 hours on the train trying to come up with a plan to change his fortunes before he was found out. By the time he disembarked from the train, Tom was sick with fear and uncertainty about how he could get out of this corner, without losing Mary.

As some desperate men tend to do, Tom decided to go to the pub, where he hoped he could find inspiration in a pint glass. He wandered from the train station to the East End, where he found a place that looked as dark and gloomy as his mood. He sat at the bar and drank a few pints and tried to come up with new ideas. He tried again the next day, and the day after that. Unfortunately for Tom, after drinking for the better part of a week, the only thing he had accomplished was to spend what little remaining money he had left. He sat at the bar, his head sagging almost as low as his spirits, oblivious to the man who had come in and sat on the stool beside him. “Why so glum, chum?” Tom picked up his sagging head, looked at his new bar mate, and burst into tears. The stranger looked at Tom with eyes of concern and pity. He had seen other desperate young men in the past, but none quite as disconsolate as this one. “There, there, it can’t be as bad as all that. What’s the trouble?”  Tom looked at this stranger: A round, soft man of 50-odd years, with thinning hair and a sallow face that showed a lack of depth, but wearing the clothes of a gentleman. Tom was confused. Why would a man like this care about Tom’s problems? Why was he even in this working class pub? Unfortunately, because he was so absorbed in his own misery, Tom didn’t consider these questions before he started to spill his guts to this stranger.

The man’s name was Garrett Liev and he was, in fact, a gentleman in lineage and manner. What wasn’t common knowledge was that his family fortune had been depleted; largely due to Garret’s poor choices. Garrett now travelled through the part of London reserved for the downtrodden and desperate, looking for men like Tom who would be receptive to his offer. He felt very fortunate to have come across Tom, as he was currently in need of another assistant due to his previous one now spending time in the workhouse. He listened patiently to Tom’s story, waiting for just the right moment to suggest a way out. As Tom finished his tale by showing Garrett a picture of Mary, Garrett knew it was time to set his hook.

He asked Tom if he was willing to do anything to keep the truth from Mary. Tom assured him he was. Garrett then unfolded the plot that would leave them both in a better position. He promised Tom that if he followed Garrett’s instruction, he would be able to get a house and get on his feet well within the 6 months he had before Mary’s arrival. It would be simple, and didn’t involve hurting anyone. If Tom looked at it the right way, it was hardly a crime at all. Tom listened with an eagerness that rivaled the enthusiasm of the best behaved child on Christmas morning. As the plan unfolded, Tom had a few moments of uncertainty. He had never broken the law before. But his reservations quickly evaporated as Garrett told him of the amount of money he would be able to make. Tom was hooked. Garrett and Tom agreed to meet the next night at the Highgate Cemetery, which was the preferred cemetery of the wealthy.

On his way to the cemetery the following night, Tom was once again caught up in his dreams of the future. The difference this time was that he actually had a means to making these dreams come true. He met Garrett at the appointed time, at the far entrance to the cemetery, where the light of the gas lamps refused to enter. Garrett had some tools; two shovels, a pick, and a crow bar, wrapped up in an old flour sack. They made their way over the wrought iron fence that surrounded the grounds, and headed into the heart of the cemetery. It took them a little longer than Garrett had anticipated because the summer grass was wet and slippery from the afternoon rain, so they had to be careful not to slip, and cause any unusual noises that might rouse the night man. Garret pointed to a slightly raised area just to the right of an elaborate headstone. This was the place. Tom was excited and scared, almost giddy with anticipation when he realized the elaborate stone was that of Sir Edward Blore, the architect who completed Buckingham Palace. If his new neighbor was half as prominent as he was, this might turn out to be more profitable than Tom had imagined. Garrett took the tools out of the sack and handed a shovel to Tom. He told Tom what needed to be done, and to be quiet while he was doing it. The night man was not very observant, but he was required to walk the perimeter of the cemetery twice a night. He had already made his first round, so Tom and Garrett were safe from intrusion for at least 4 hours. Garrett wanted to be in and out in fewer than 3. Tom listened carefully to Garrett’s instruction, and then got to work. Between the two of them they were able to accomplish their task in under 2 hours. Tom was trembling as Garrett pried up the lid of the casket. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and visions of childhood ghost stories crept into his mind. Garrett raised the lid to expose the body of a Ms. Daphne Watson, who had died of the flu at a premature age of 29. Being a beloved only child, she was buried with great care and comfort. Her casket was lined in a delicate rose petal pink, and she was dressed in a white satin gown, which would have been far more fitting for a happier occasion.  She was also adorned in several pieces of expensive jewelry that her father insisted should be buried with her. Garrett reached into the coffin and began to remove young Daphne’s jewelry. Tom stood and watched; the fear and children’s tales returning to his mind. As Garrett removed each piece, he handed them up to Tom who, once getting a look at the bounty of the night, felt the fear ebb away.

Tom continued to work for Garrett, and learned all the tricks of his trade. He learned which of the seven cemeteries surrounding London were the preferred burial grounds of the wealthy. He learned that women’s graves were generally more profitable than men’s graves. He learned what to look for when reading the obituaries as to better pick the objects of his labors. He learned who was willing to buy the jewels that they liberated. Tom was a quick study and before two months had passed, he realized that he no longer needed his dubious partner. He was becoming accustomed to having money in his pocket, and he liked it. If he worked alone, he would have twice as much.

Tom and Garrett met at Abney Park Cemetery for their next job. Tom volunteered to do most of the heavy digging, allowing Garrett the privilege of opening the casket. When Tom had shoveled out most of the dirt, Garrett hopped into the hole, with crow bar in hand. Tom climbed out and stood leaning on his shovel. He opened the casket, began removing the loot, and handed it up to Tom. Waiting for Garrett to bend down to remove the final prize of the night, Tom shifted his weight, and tightened his grip. Garrett went down for the last piece. Tom swung back with his shovel and struck Garret right at the base of the skull with the shovels edge. Garrett never knew what hit him. Tom hopped into the hole, removed the watch from Garret’s hand, and rolled him into the open casket. He wasn’t sure if Garrett was dead, but once the hole was filled, it wouldn’t matter. He rifled Garrets pockets, and then made quick work of closing the lid and filling the grave.

As Tom ambled back to the East End, he thought about what his next move should be. His first stop tomorrow would be at Vic’s pub. Vic was the best fence in the East End and always paid Garrett top dollar. He looked forward to collecting his money in the morning; money he wouldn’t have to share with Garrett. Tom went back to his dingy little one room apartment where he climbed into bed, gazing at his picture of Mary by the glow of his bedside candle. He drifted off to sleep and dreamed of his new life that was looming brightly just ahead of him.

Vic was surprised to see Tom. Usually Tom sat at the bar while he and Garrett conducted business in the back room. He asked Tom why Garrett wasn’t with him today, and Tom simply replied that Garrett didn’t show up last night. He also told Vic that Garrett had been having some trouble paying off some gambling debts. Vic didn’t give it much thought, given Garrett’s history with playing bad poker. Tom was pleased that his answer satisfied Vic, and it got Tom to thinking: If Vic found this believable, wouldn’t others find it believable, too? He now saw the next step in moving his life forward.

Tom headed back to his apartment, stopping along the way to buy a new suitcase. When he got there, he informed the landlady that he was leaving. He went upstairs, packed his few belongings, and headed for the train station.

Tom arrived at Garrett’s house in Hampstead which was a lovely suburb just north of the city center. Garrett’s house was a beautiful 17^th century Merchant’s style home built of red brick with many windows, all trimmed in white. It was a large, three story house, with expansive rose gardens and a stable. Tom thought he had never seen a house so beautiful. He could hardly wait for Mary to see her new home. He went to the door and let himself in.

It didn’t take him long to settle into his new home. The servants were told that the house had been lost by Mr. Liev to resolve his debt. Sadly, the servants knew of their now former master’s gambling problems, so they were willing to accept this explanation. They were also told that if they had a problem with this new arrangement, they were welcome to go find employment elsewhere.

Tom continued to build his fortune. Thanks to the Influenza outbreak, he had a burgeoning stream of nightly customers from which to choose. The outbreak did not discriminate when it came to taking its victims.

                                                ***********************

            The time flew by, and the day of Mary’s arrival was finally there. Tom left for the station to meet her train, due to arrive at 2:00 pm. He watched with baited breath as passengers disembarked, waiting impatiently for his first glimpse of Mary. Finally, she stepped down from the car, followed closely by her Aunt Julia. She was stunning; his picture of perfection.  If anything, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He had the porter gather their belongings, and they headed for home.

            On the way to the house, the three of them talked casually about being in London, how the weather was beginning to change over, and how lovely it was to see each other again. Tom was nervous, Aunt Julia was uncomfortable, and Mary was distant, but pleasant. The ride to the house seemed to take much longer than usual.

            When they got within a few blocks of the house, Tom told Mary about their new home. He hoped that she would be impressed with him for finding them such a beautiful house. Aunt Julia sat passively as Tom described the gardens and the stables. As they rounded the final corner, Mary had a brief look of recognition on her face. He asked if she had been in this neighborhood before, but she said “no”. They arrive at the front entrance of the house where the footman waited to help the ladies out of the carriage. Tom glanced at Mary who suddenly looked as white as his typical nightly guest. He asked if she is feeling well; she assured him that she was, but said so in a weak, distant voice. Aunt Julia looked askance at her niece, knowing she was lying.

            They entered the house, where the butler was waiting to show the women to their rooms. The ladies followed him up the stairs to their respective bedrooms, located at the opposite end of the hall from Tom’s room. The butler got them settled, asked them if they were in need of anything else, and then departed. Aunt Julia retired to her room for a short rest, as she was quite tired from their journey. Mary thanked the butler for his help and hospitality and told him that she, too, would like to rest for a while. As soon as the butler left the room, Mary disintegrated into a flurry of tears. Afraid of being overheard, she groped for the bed, threw herself upon it, and buried her face in her pillows.

            After a few hours, Mary pulled herself together, washed her face, and came downstairs to join the others for dinner. They had a lovely meal served by the butler, then retired to the salon for coffee and conversation. At a little after 11:00 pm Mary rose and bid the other two good night. Aunt Julia wished her a good night’s sleep as Mary left the room without a backward glance. Tom noticed this cool exchange between aunt and niece, but did not comment. As the door shut behind Mary, Tom saw that Aunt Julia visibly relaxed as soon as the door clicked shut. Tom asked Julia if everything was alright. She hesitated, but after a moment she gently asked Tom if he was sure he wanted to wed Mary. Tom was shocked because he thought Aunt Julia might be accusing him of something. He waited for her to continue, for fear of saying the wrong thing that might raise her suspicions of him. Fortunately for Tom, keeping his mouth shut paid off.

            Aunt Julia continued her monologue by telling Tom that she suspected that Mary was not sincere in her intentions toward Tom. She told him that she thought Mary was just marrying him to get her inheritance, and worried about what might be in store for Tom if he went through with it. Tom couldn’t believe his ears. Even though Mary was not as talkative as he hoped she might be, he figured that once they were married she would warm up to him. Aunt Julia’s words fell flat. He refused to believe that Mary had any ulterior motives in her desire to wed him. Julia tried to convince him that Mary really wasn’t the right girl for him. She went on to assure Tom that she thought he was a fine young man who was clearly making his way in the world, and that she was certain that there were other women who would make him a far better wife. As much as Tom didn’t want to hurt the old woman’s feelings, he felt himself begin to anger. He abruptly stood and told the old woman that she didn’t know what she was talking about, and stormed off to bed. After Tom went upstairs, he stayed alert to listen for the old woman to come up to bed. Aunt Julia came up a few minutes later, but Tom gave her a full hour to get settled in before he crept out of his room.

He gathered the tools of his trade and headed for the cemetery. He had every intention of giving up his nightly missions and investing his money in a real business, but the money is too good, and the work is short. As he enters the cemetery, he knows right with where he’s going. He heads to the newly covered grave and sets to work.

The night is moonless, with a cold mist hanging in the air, creating a halo of light from the lantern that bathes the man’s handsome face in a soft, warm glow. The man sweats from his labors, defying the chill of the night, his black hair plastered to his forehead. He toils away, working toward his goal. His companion this evening is Mrs. Luxorp. She was a woman of great renown who was truly disliked by all that knew her, so he does not feel particularly bad about relieving her of her unneeded worldly possessions.  He digs some more, waiting for the knowing clank of metal on wood that tells him that he has arrived at his target. He throws another shovel full of dirt out of the hole, distracting himself from his gruesome labors by envisioning his life to come. He’s almost there. The scratching sounds of the shovel moving the dirt are a soothing white noise, playing against the background to his dreams.

Finally, his shovel strikes home with a dull thud. He quickly clears off the top of the casket and, throwing his shovel aside, reaches for his crow bar. He makes quick work of prying the lid open, revealing the pallid visage of Mrs. Luxorp. She lies in repose with her horrible face skewed by the distortion of decomposition. She wears an expensive silk dress, and is adorned in her favorite jewels. He removes her necklace and bracelet, examining them in the light of his lantern. They should fetch a fair price in London’s underbelly markets. He quickly puts them in his pocket and bends to his final task. He lifts the talon that is Mrs. Luxorp’s left hand and gently twists the ring off her finger. After a minute of careful twisting pressure, the ring slips over the gnarled knuckle.

The ring is a true work of art. It is a large sapphire, surrounded by diamonds, encased in delicate filigree platinum. As he holds it to the light, the true color of the stone reveals itself to be as deep as the bluest ocean; the diamonds sparkle, casting hundreds of tiny rainbows. Mesmerized by the beauty of the ring, he is brought back to his earlier dreams of his life to come. He can imagine how this ring will look on the hand of his beloved, its delicacy paled only by the hand that wears it. Tomorrow is the day that he will place it on her hand as his promise of betrothal.

He pockets the ring and turns to begin filling in the hole. As he is working, he is distracted by an unfamiliar noise. He sees someone approaching, but cannot tell who it is in the hanging mist. He douses his lantern and waits in silence, hoping the intruder turns the other direction. The shadowed figure continues to come his way. As the interloper advances, he can tell that the silhouette is that of a woman. He lowers his head so that he is barely visible in the hole, still hoping that the woman goes away. 

The woman is now beside the grave. Tom knows that there is no use in hiding anymore. As he prepares to rise from the grave, his lantern is relit by the woman’s hand. Aunt Julia is standing above him, with a shovel in her hand.  By the look on her face, Tom can see that the old woman has malice in her heart. He is trapped. He has no way to get away from her. Even though he is younger and stronger, he is trapped in the grave: Aunt Julia has chosen her moment well. He cries out as she swings the shovel at his head. He manages to avoid the impact, but knows his luck won’t hold out for long. Another swing; another miss. “Why are you doing this?” he implores. Aunt Julia laughs a low, slow laugh and tells him she’s not about to lose Mary’s inheritance to some nobody Johnny-come-lately. She worked too hard to get her hands on it in the first place. Tom, still stuck in the grave, just stares at her in confusion. As she draws back to swing again, Tom feels nothing but defeat. His new life was to start tomorrow. Instead it would end tonight.

Julia is about to deliver the final blow. Tom shuts his eyes. He can hear the rush of air as the shovel arcs towards him. He waits for the end. As his brief life flashes before his tightly shut eyes, he’s hit with a sudden thump that sends him sprawling into the corner of the hole. It is Aunt Julia. Did she fall? Did she slip? But then Tom sees that the back of her head is a red, matted mess. Has another robber chosen this grave? He is so confused!

Someone has lifted the lantern and stands above him, holding out a helping hand to Tom. He pushed himself up and peeks past the glow of the lantern. Mary! He would know that delicate, slim hand anywhere! He scrambles out of the hole and takes Mary in his arms. For the first time since their meeting, Mary hugs him back with true warmth and love. They exchange no words. Tom gazes into her eyes, sparkling with the reflection of the lantern. He lifts her hand as delicately as a baby bird, and slips the ring on her finger. A small sparkling stream runs down her cheek as she reaches for Tom and kisses him. They leave the cemetery without Tom completing his job of refilling the grave and go home.

The next morning, as they sit at breakfast, Mary explains. She always suspected Aunt Julia had something to do with her parents’ death, but she couldn’t prove it. That is why she was aloof and distant. When Tom asked her to marry him, she really was happy, but was afraid to show her true feelings in front of her Aunt Julia. She then tells him that she did know this house. She knew who owned it because she had come here with Aunt Julia the day after Tom returned to London. She also knew of Mr. Liev’s reputation and financial troubles. She was afraid of what might happen to Tom if he were living in Mr. Liev’s house. She was certain that Julia had hired him to get rid of Tom, so she was quite shocked when they pulled up to his house. What it came down to was Aunt Julia not wanting to lose access to Mary’s money. Now they wouldn’t have to worry about anything. They could marry and Mary had plenty of money, so Tom could retire from his current endeavor. Tom held her hand gently and told her that no one would ever hurt her again. As he leaned in to kiss her, the doorbell rang. It was the constable, standing with hat in hand, coming to tell Mary of the tragic murder of her aunt.

The next day Mary received a letter from a solicitor saying that she was the sole heir of her aunt, and now owned the country house, all of her aunt’s possessions, and all of her money.

Tom and Mary were married the following week.