The Beloved Monster (The Fire)

Chapter one

Miller is a large village nestled in the fertile valley near the southern border of the Palatus Kingdom. Unable to handle the slew of troubles facing Palatus, The ailing old king Albert has delegated the rule of his country to his two sons, Gilbert the elder and his younger sibling William. From without, the nation was constantly harassed by its southern barbarian neighbors. And from within, the constant rivalry between the two princes created an environment of tension and fear among the populace. This kind of environment helped the Jacquard Family rise to great heights of prominence and influence by means of its immense wealth and unscrupulous liaisons.

           Solomon Jacquard was Mayor of Miller while the Lind family which owned a little estate there, was one of the most charitable families in the village. In the year of the Lord 1523 a great fire destroyed the Lind’s estate and killed all the members of the Lind’s family…with the exception of Michael.   

The great fire took away almost all the features of young Michael’s face and burnt most of his body. It left him crippled, horribly disfigured and worst of all…despondent. When he was still small, kids would make fun of him. They would surround him and taunt him pointing their fingers at him as if he were a freakish apparition they discovered. However, when he grew up to be a youthful, strong and dreadful monster, kids would flee in horror as from a ghastly beast as soon as they saw him. Naturally all parents would not want to have him anywhere near their children. He was always aware of the whispers of scurrying villagers in the rare occasions when he wandered into the village before sunset. No matter how hot the day might be, he was compelled to cover his whole mutilated body and wear a mask so that he wouldn’t offend the sensibilities of people by his mere existence if they chanced to see him.

           He lived all those years since the fire scavenging for crusts of food left over or thrown away by others. A few times desperate shop keepers allowed him to clean up their shops for a few coins or a decent meal. However at night, he had to go back to the cemetery outside the village because it was the only place he was allowed to sleep.

           Almost ten years after the great fire…the following events began to unfold…

           One Sunday morning, Michael woke up and went to get some water from the public fountain at the cemetery. There, he found a man trying to fill his vase with water so as to put some fresh flowers at the grave of his family. The way he was dressed up, clearly indicated that he was a rich man. Michael did not have his mask on, since he did not expect to find anybody so early in the cemetery. Then everything happened so fast, he had no chance to save the rich stranger from the agony of looking at his disfigured face. When he tried to retreat quietly, the man turned around to walk away from the fountain. As soon as he saw Michael, he got so startled that he dropped his vase, smashing it and splashing all the water over his expensive clothes. In the awkward minutes that followed, both of them stayed transfixed in their places. Finally, the man said in a harsh voice,

           “What do you want?”

He seemed to think that Michael was about to attack him, but the poor freak learned by now not to let such attitudes grieve his tormented heart. He simply said,

           “I just wanted to get some water Sir” As he turned to leave he added; “I can come back later. I am sorry if I startled you.”

           “Wait,” The rich man said apologetically realizing that the scary wretch never meant to hurt him, “I am leaving now since my vase is broken”

           Mike stopped and said without turning to face him, “I better get my mask so that I do not offend any body else”

           Still standing where he was, the rich man asked gently, “Are you visiting the grave of your family here?”

           “No sir, I live here. You must be new in town” Mike said without facing him.

           “I am the magistrate,” he said, “every one knows who I am. I come from the capital, Walto city once a year to visit the grave of my parents.”

           “Forgive my rude intrusion Mr. Magistrate.” Replied Mike and hastened to walk away.

           “Wait.” The Magistrate shouted, “Wait a minute…wretched rascal.”

Michael stopped. Expecting the worst, he turned around covering his face with his disfigured hands. “What do you want?” He said in a low voice.

           The rich man approached him slowly raising a handkerchief to his nose with his left hand while his right hand dug into the pocket of his pants. “What do you mean you live here?” he asked, “don’t you have a home…a family?” 

           Michael did not answer immediately. Eventually he said without any trace of emotion, “I lost my family in the great fire, Mr. Magistrate” He dropped his hand and looked the rich man straight in the face, “Is there anything else you want to ask about?”

The look of horror in the man’s eyes was not easy to conceal as he stared at the gnarled scars all over Mike’s face.

           “I…I just want to help you. Is there anything I can do to help?” The Magistrate asked in a shaking voice. Embarrassingly, he fetched some money from his pants’ pocket and produced it to the poor man standing in front of him, “May be this can help a little?”

Michael looked at the money eagerly. A storm was raging inside his mind. He felt all the weight of the years suddenly crash on his shoulders. As if he realized that he lost his family for the first time. Nobody offered him free money before. But somehow, for the first time, he realized, it was not money what he yearned for!! Heroically he stopped himself from crying. He thanked the rich man politely and turned around to leave without reaching for the coins. The magistrate shouted after him,

“Wait, my carriage will be here soon to take me back to the city. I can give you a ride to any place you want.”

As he fled away, Michael was crying and murmuring to himself, “there is no place I want to go…there is no place that wants me either”

A week later, Sam Burton, Palatus chief Magistrate was celebrating his wife’s birthday in his mansion at the outskirts of Walto city, when she came to whisper angrily in his ear,

“Why did you invite that bum today?” Sam wondered who she was referring to. She answered, “Look at the door.” And then she walked away.

Sam immediately noticed his old friend Alfred the lawyer at the entrance of the Hall scanning the place looking for him. When their eyes met, Alfred hastened to meet Sam pushing his way among the throng of guests.

           “Hello Sam, I am sorry to barge in like that, but I have to talk to you for a moment please. It is a matter that cannot wait.” Alfred was emphatic.

           “This is quite inappropriate Al. It is certainly the wrong time for any chitchat.” Sam said in a barely audible whisper.

           “Any delay will cause detrimental harm to a man and his family Sam. Please give me a couple a minutes to explain.” Al insisted.

           “OK. Please wait for me in my study. I shall excuse myself from my guests.” Sam answered reluctantly. So Al made his way to the side door leading to the host’s study.

As he walked into the empty room, Al was anxious and went on pacing the carpeted floor impatiently. He noticed a pile of papers on the large desk at the center of the room. When he approached it, he was surprised to find that it was a large file with a big script on its cover ‘the Miller Village fire’. Before he had a chance to pick it up, Sam opened the door and walked in, “OK, Alfred. What is the big urgency?” he demanded.

Al turned to face him saying, “Someone I know had been arrested by your minions for some completely bogus charges. It is the harvest time as you know; everyday he spends in prison until his innocence is proved will drastically reduce his family’s chance to get a meager living for the entire next year”

           “Do I know the villain?” Sam asked.

           “No you don’t. And he is not a villain, I assure you.” Alfred objected.

           “What are the charges?” Sam asked again.

           “Failure to pay a debt to the Jacquard Brothers store” Al said challengingly.

           “Oh Alfred, You want me to go against a claim from the Jacquard Brothers? I might as well submit my resignation?” Sam clamored.

           “Sam. This is a classic case of David and Goliath. We have to stand up for the poor little man. I offered to pay his debt for him, but they wouldn’t hear of it. They just want blood,” Al pleaded passionately. “They want to snatch the man’s field. What is even worse, the poor guy swears that he had already paid the debt though he has no proof of it…and I trust him…I do believe he did pay his debt. You know how these people are. They never ask for a receipt or proof or anything like that. They are too simple and ignorant.” Alfred continued forcefully, “Sam you must help me free this man before it is too late. This is a clear miscarriage of justice.”

To be continued next week…