Shadows Fall Away Read Online Free PDF

need to go to no hospital. They delivers, they do.”
    The other women laughed at that.
    “Oh, they delivers all right,” one of the women in the background added. “And they put ‘em in there right enough but they ain’t never there to catch ‘em when they come out.”
    “But syphilis, it can kill you.” I threw my hands up in exasperation.
    “So can not workin’,” said a fourth woman quietly. “Me an’ my three brats’d starve if I stayed off me back. So riddle me this, how to feed ‘em if I’m locked up in hospital.”
    I turned and saw the anguish in the woman’s face. The symptoms and signs I knew all too well. The woman already had syphilis. And she knew she was dying. My anger at the women and their stubbornness burned itself out, replaced by rage for the men who used them, at the injustice of it all.
    These women had no hope. And it was that, as much as anything, that killed them. It was killing their children, too. And taking little pieces of me along as well.
     
    ***
     
    Mark
     
    I woke in the dark. I sat up in bed and reached for the lamp to chase away the last of a quickly fading dream, but it wasn’t there. I groped for a moment before I remembered I wasn’t at home but in London.
    I rubbed my eyes and slowly oriented myself in the dark. I wasn’t quite sure where I was. It seemed unnaturally dark and quiet. Even the hotel with its thick curtains over the window let in some light and the silence was broken by the occasional sound of traffic whizzing by on the streets. Wait. The storm. Lightning. It didn’t seem like a hospital. A hospital would be better lit.
    Rubbing my eyes with my palms again I tried to adjust to the darkness and saw a hint of light under what proved to be a door. The door opened onto a hall that didn’t look like any hospital I’d ever seen.
    A polished wood banister stood across from the door and an oriental carpet that ran the length of the corridor. There were other doors along the hall and at the landing. An elaborate chandelier hung on a chain from the ceiling, lighting a sweeping staircase that led down to a marble tiled entryway. I walked that way. A small table stood in the middle of the entryway below on which lay a top hat, a silver-headed cane, and a pair of gray gloves.
    Great. I’m dreaming I’m in one of Mom’s books.
    I turned back to the room I’d exited and noticed for the first time the softly-hissing gas lamps on the wall that gave off an eerie, dim light.
    Where was I? I couldn’t quite recall. There’d been the costume party. Oh, right. This must be the house of Agatha’s friend, Percy. We were going to stay with him for a few days after the convention so Agatha could visit other fossilized professor friends in London. She must have had me brought here after the near brush with death.
    I peered back into the room I’d exited and saw a bathrobe thrown over the end of the bed. I didn’t see my clothes so I opted for the robe. As I pulled it on, my toe brushed a pair of leather slippers. I slipped them on too.
    The bathrobe was over-the-top fancy, quilted maroon satin with black lapels. My mom would have called it a dressing gown.
    I had no idea what time it was but figured it was too early for anyone to be up. I moved quietly down the stairs, feeling more than a little silly in the dressing gown. At the bottom of the stairs, I noticed a door cracked open and peeked inside. It looked like a small office, maybe a library. There was a decanter of liquor on a little table near the fireplace.
    I remembered drinking brandy. Or had it been part of the dream? I could find out easy enough. I poured a tiny bit and tossed it back. It burned and tasted exactly as it had in the dream. The dream in which my dad’s ancestor Ian was present.
    A gas lamp was on low, but I didn’t want to fiddle with trying to turn it up. Glancing in the direction of a soft ticking, I saw the mantle clock. It was a little past four. Normally, I’d just be sneaking into