Chapter 20: Chapter 20: The New Childminder

The New Childminder:

(1925 A.D., The Township of Resdren, Nornland, Scotland, Greater Germania)

The sky is dull and overcast the day John first arrives at the Draig Family Estate. He had just endured an agonisingly long train ride from his previous post in London to the dreary Township of Resdren. Upon exiting the train, he cannot help but notice the gloomy Poeian atmosphere of the place that is to be his new local community. Once upon a midnight dreary muses John with a chuckle.

John makes his way off the platform, his luggage dragging behind him until, at last, he makes it out of the train station. The ground is soggy from days of heavy rain, and most of the people outside the train station are so pale they look as if they have not seen the sun in years or were all perhaps ill. Looking around, it strikes John as very odd that the people should seem so gleeful in their bustling about when the place where they live seems so dreadful. Perhaps I am being too quick to judge, he thinks to himself. Upon exiting the station, he is greeted by a tall and rather portly fellow with receding raggedy brown hair and long, slightly crooked fingers.

“‘Ello new master, my name is Crowler. I am the Driag Family chauffeur. I have been sent here to retrieve you. Please allow me to be the first to say welcome to Resdren,” proclaims Crowler in a warm and welcoming tone as he loads John’s luggage into a nearby ornate carriage. Crowler gestures for John to climb up into the carriage. Doing as he is bid, he climbs into the carriage to find it rather regal and cosy. There are some books for reading and a tiny table between the two benches. The benches themselves are among the softest John has ever felt.

John looks out the window as they make their way down Main Street. They pass several quaint little shops and pubs. John feels somewhat more at ease concerning his new surroundings as he sees more and more people laughing and going about their daily business. Then, he thought he saw something, something strange, but he could not be sure because it was gone in the blink of an eye. Though he vanished so quickly, John was still almost certain he had seen an abnormal-looking lad in a silverish jumpsuit with glowing blue lens-like domes over his eyes standing in a narrow alleyway between one of the local toy shops and the town bakery. The ears of the strange lad looked sharpened to a point, and his skin looked even paler than the sun-starved skin of the residents. John tries to convince himself it is just a minor hallucination because of long travel and exhaustion, but deep down he knows he has never been that lucky.

*****

After about two more hours in the carriage, John can see that they are at last approaching the front carriageway of the Draig Family Estate. He considers himself a person who has seen many sights and has travelled to some places normal men cannot even fathom, and yet he still has to admit the Draig Estate fills him with at least some level of awe. After a few more minutes of bumpy travel, they make it up the carriageway of the estate and come to a parked position just outside the front door. John can see through the window that there is already a small welcoming committee waiting outside the front door. For the most part, they all look to be wonderful people. Some of them are a bit dishevelled, but overall he finds his mood has already been lifted greatly.

Upon coming to a stop, Crowler climbs down from his driver’s seat and makes his way over to the carriage door, and opens it.

“Welcome to the Draig Family Estate, new master,” proclaims Crowler to John as kindly as he can muster.

“Thanks and forget the new master stuff, please. Just John is fine with me.” For some reason, he finds himself already liking Crowler. The man may be weird and unsorted, but the man’s overall jolly demeanour has already started to grow on him.

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“Aye new mast---- I mean John, sir,” responds Crowler, taking John by the arm and helping him down from the carriage.

John brushes off the front of himself briskly, just in case he has become a little untidy during his travels. Then he steps forward, turning his attention to the welcoming committee. It is at this point, a prim and proper woman sporting an elegant green dress and a glass of red wine approaches John from behind the welcome line. Her face is covered with a bitter grimace and cold, seemingly lifeless eyes.

“I am Mrs. Draig, and you must be John Darling, our new Childminder,” declares Mrs. Draig, barely managing to cover up her annoyance with a tone of mock pleasantry.

“Indeed, I am, my lady,” John replies, his voice strict with propriety.

“You got your work cut out for you with this wretched little pest, but as long as you can keep him out of my sight, then I don’t really care,” continues Mrs. Draig with a tone of dismissive disgust.

“Okay?” John does his best to keep his tone level and polite, though he was sure that this woman was perhaps the worst mother just based on that statement alone that he has ever met.

“This is Emma? She is our Head-Maid. This one here is Tilda, and this is her twin sister, Hilda. They are our two Lesser-Maids,” continues Mrs. Draig as she gestures to the three maids standing behind her. John finds the Head-Maid, Emma, to be a truly stunning example of peak feminine beauty. The other two maids are both stout, well-built women, who, though not conventionally beautiful, look to be quite capable.

“It is very nice to meet you,” chimes in Emma with a stunning smile and polite curtsy.

“Well, now that you three have been introduced, Emma, go check on dinner. Tilda and Hilda go set the table,” barks Mrs. Draig as if shooing away rats.

“Yes, Mam,” respond the three maids in unison as they all bow and then hurry off to perform their assigned tasks.

“Ugh, here comes the worthless little waste of my eggs now,” proclaims Mrs. Draig with a tone of absolute revulsion as a slender young boy with golden-blond hair approaches her and John through the doorway, accompanied by a gawky, sour-faced old man.

“Hello, you must be John Darling. I am Rufus; Mrs. Draig’s Personal Attendant,” says the old man, reaching out his hand to shake John’s.

Not wanting to be rude, John shakes his hand only to find his touch cold and clammy like a dead fish, which would match his smell quite well. Unlike Mrs. Draig, his eyes are not dead and lifeless, but rather sunken and cruel. His eyes remind John of a particularly mean professor he had known during his training.

“Nice to meet you,” John replies, though nothing could have been further from the truth.

“Now… Now, Oskar, say hello to your new Childminder,” demands Rufus, noticeably squeezing the young boy’s shoulder hard enough to make even John squirm.

If John did not dislike Rufus before that moment, then John certainly despises him now. The treatment causes the young boy to wince with pain as he steps forward and presents himself to John with faux politeness. Oskar bows low for a moment, still shaking. John was sure his shoulder was still in pain and most likely bruised from Rufus’s rough treatment. The first thing that catches John’s eye about the boy is that he is shorter and skinnier than one would expect for his age and far more feminine looking than one would consider typically possible for a boy.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Oskar. I look forward to getting to know you very much,” John replies, kneeling to meet Oskar at his level.

He gently attempts to take Oskar’s hand, covertly trying to provide the boy with some mild comfort, but Oskar recoils at the attempt. John does not blame him. He has a feeling that the concept of kind and caring touching is completely alien to the small boy, that is if Mrs. Draig’s and Rufus’s treatment of him is any indication.

“Stop that, Oskar. You mustn’t be so rude,” demands Rufus, striking Oskar hard in the buttocks with his cane, causing subtle tears of pain to well up in the young lad’s eyes.

The strike angers John greatly, but he maintains his composure.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” replies Oskar halfheartedly, reaching out his hand for John to shake.

Oskar avoids John’s gaze. Instead of shaking his hand, John places a gentlemanly peck upon the boy’s hand. John can feel a slight shudder of fear as his lips make contact with Oskar’s pale hand. Oskar, surprised at the sudden affection, finally lets his gaze meet John’s. For a moment, a subtle smile builds up inside the young boy, a smile he fears to show.