- 11 - Agnus Cliversham

Harriet wheeled Agnus into the kitchen.

Did not recognize any of the rooms on the way here. How is that even possible? I have all of these weird facts rattling around in my head, so I must be intelligent. How could I not commit the building to memory? That would be useful information. I know the names of fruit in two languages but the floorplan of the house eludes me?

“Welcome young master, bienvenu!” Cried a jolly cheeked man. He wore the large white pleated hat of a chef in the French style.

Toque blanche. More useless information, will I have enough of my memory back before I meet with Great Uncle?

“Thank you chef.” Agnus stammered.

“Chef Cristobal, could we trouble you for some early lunch? Agnus is hungry.”

“But of course. I’ll whip something up.” He said turned to get to work.

I need to recover faster. Those vitamins are helping.

“Harriet, Could I have another vitamin? Since I will be eating early I’d like to have the pill earlier, they do help me feel so much better.” Agnus asked his nurse.

She thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Sure, they are just vitamins after all. Why wait 6 hours when you could have them every 4?”

“Young Master, how were your eggs this morning? I could prepare them a la Florentine? Or as they do in the west, sunny side up if you prefer.” The chef sang.

“They were fantastic this morning. Please make them however you did before.”

“Beautiful.” He said. “What really elevates the meal are these lovely eggs I have found. My Aunt’s neighbor lives just outside of the city and has an grove of old oak. Particularly lovely this time of year. And she lets her hens have the run of the place.”

Agnus listened as the chef spoke and cooked. He grabbed ingredients from the ice box and larder. Opening and closing cabinets and drawers for the pots and pans and spices he would need without even looking.

All the while he gossiped. About everyone. The neighbor’s daughter and sister, what they had said about the grounds keeper and how inappropriate it all had been.

Seems to me that if it was so inappropriate then he shouldn’t be repeating it all. Or eavesdropping to begin with.

The porter entered then and the chef dropped his monologue.

“Young Master. He said with a nod. “Your room is available to you if you wish to visit. It is on the third floor of the South wing. I can show you and Harriet the way once you are done eating.”

The Porter, his arms strong and firm, breathing heavily. He’s running. He carried me after the accident.

“Thank you, Sir.” Agnus said. “Pardon me but have we met before?”

Chef Cristobal plated two glowing eggs benedict, these had small greens on top. He slid them across the counter to rest in front of Agnus.

“Yes, my name is Henley. We met when you arrived two weeks past.” the Porter replied. His eyes were watery.

Two weeks ago? So I have not been here very long. That explains my unfamiliarity, how large is this place?

“Thank you Henley.” He said and dug into his plate of food. A sound outside the kitchen door caught his attention.

Someone walking quickly. The are in a hurry. Carting a heavy bag or box.

The person knocked and the Porter opened the door to reveal a young man with a suitcase and Jacket under one arm.

I was right!

He was in his mid twenties, with brown eyes and brown hair. He stood about as tall as the porter and was bookish.

“Hello? Is this the correct entrance? I’m a new tutor for the Von Bachman estate?” He said.

The porter turned the man about by the shoulder and led him out to the courtyard and closed the door behind them. Agnus could hear them speaking softly but couldn’t make out what was being said.

Chef Cristobal flashed a recipe for a croquet Monseur into Angus’s view, blocking the door with his wide frame.

“You have not tried Croquet Monsieur. It’s truly divine.” He said rather loudly. “This recipe was my Aunt’s, she came to live with us one summer, when I was 12, about your age. Her husband had passed in the coal mines, not do to an accident, mind you. Just black lung, which can catch up with you if you work in the mines for long enough...”

The new tutor seems nice, I’m sure I must have other tutors? Right? Or am I learning directly from Great Uncle?

Agnus pushed himself to remember but nothing solidified.

“…so she came to live with us for a time. I remember it distinctly because it was springtime. Birds were singing in the trees but my widowed aunt was sad. My mother suggested she made brunch.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Harriet returned with a cup of water and his pill, which he swallowed easily before returning to his meal.

I haven’t met my current tutors, and I can’t remember even the slightest thing about them.

The porter entered with a confused looking tutor and escorted him upstairs.

What if my memory doesn’t come back? Great Uncle expects me back to my studies after lunch. I need to find something to write with.

And I might be hearing voices. What happened to me? I don’t think my recovery is normal at all.

-

Agnus stared at his bedroom from the doorway. The bedroom was pristine. The clothes were neatly folded at the foot of his bed, bedsheets stretched and pressed. A heavy blanket sat folded on a chair beside his bed. The room was sparse and clean.

Nothing seems familiar. Did I live here? Did anyone even live here?

The porter walked across the room leaving stark footprints in the thick shag carpet. He opened the drapes and threw open the windows.

Those are the only footprints in the room.

“Thank you Mr. Henley.” Harriet said. She wheeled Agnus into the middle of the room. The chair fought with the thick carpet.

“Of course.” He said, then turned to Agnus. “Agnus, If you need anything else simply ring and I or one of the maids will come and check on you.”

He left swiftly and Harriet wandered over to the open window to look outside.

“You have a lovely view of the front lawn and grounds.” She said.

“Could you bring me my notebook?” Agnus asked. He pointed to a leather bound ream of paper on the desk.

She brought it to him and a ballpoint pen.

Agnus wrote down everything he knew in categories.

Facts about great uncle. Facts about me.

There were some startlingly empty categories too.

My life before two weeks ago. My life here for the last two weeks. How thinking machines work.

Agnus did a quick internal assessment and he was 67% healed.

It seems like the more I eat the more I heal? Then I have time to search this room and find more clues. Lunch will come soon enough and I need to be of sound mind to speak with great uncle of I won’t stay here a minute longer.

-

“Agnus my boy,” Odic Von Bachman said partially standing. “Come sit! Sit. Sit. Sit.”

The elderly man was sitting at a grand table over 20 feet long. The half of the table closest to him was dressed for lunch, with a fine silk tablecloth and platters of food.

Its enough for ten people!

Harriet wheeled Agnus over to Von Bachman’s left hand side where a place was set, and a chair conveniently pulled out.

“That’s far enough Harriet. Agnus can make it to the chair.”

Agnus braced himself and leveraged himself up out of the wheelchair. There was a shaky moment where his knees nearly gave out, but he had his hand on the chair and his wheelchair to stabilize himself.

Harriet held her breath and her hand twitched to go help the boy. But Agnus transitioned to the chair with a thump.

I did it! Glad I practiced back in my room.

“Well done. Now I’m sure you are hungry.” Von Bachman said watching closely. “You are a growing boy after all.”

“Thank you Great Uncle. I am famished.” Agnus said.

Harriet portioned out some of the salad onto his plate. It was crisp greens and Spinach with Shrimp and beans.

“I’d like to resume my studies as soon as possible. Are my tutors available tomorrow?”

“They certainly can be. We had to replace your history tutor. I was told the new man has started today.” Von Bachman said.

“How are you feeling? Your fatigue should be nearly gone by tomorrow I’d say.” He said watching Agnus from the corner of his eye. “Have your memories come back at all?”

Other than the voice in my head?

“Yes sir. Sometimes it seems like I know things. Facts, a Latin name for the fruit we are eating. Scraps like that.”

Von Bachman leaned across the table, his eyes bore into Agnus's intensely.

“Any other symptoms?” He asked quickly.

“No sir, not yet. All systems functioning normally.” Agnus said with an awkward smile.

He can’t know about the voice. He would think I’m crazy. He would send me away and I would be all alone.

“It’s an interesting phenomenon you know. How different areas of the brain store memories and facts, or the very operating instructions for a body’s unconscious functions.” Von Bachman said.

Agnus nodded his agreement and stuffed himself with salad.

“Why one could spend ten lifetimes studying the complexities of the human organism.” Von Bachman said to him self.

“Indeed?” Agnus asked.

“What?” He asked coming back to the conversation suddenly. “Yes, well, I thinks it’s time I show you my notes on the thinking machines. You will join me in the sun room for tea this evening. Mr. Henley knows the one.”

The table was cleared and a second course was brought out. It consisted of a thick soup of pureed squash in chicken broth with fresh abked bread. Agnus broke open the roll and it was filled with dried berries and roasted garlic so dark and soft it melted in his mouth.

Suan Ni from China. Delicious.

“Thank you great Uncle.” Agnus said.

-

Agnus sat alone in his room pouring over his books. The subjects ranged across everything he could imagine.

Classical literature, poetry, the great philosophers, rhetoric, world history, American history and the 100 year war, natural sciences, mathematics, physics, astrology and astronomy, calculus, economics, and political sciences, etiquette, boxing and dancing. They have covered everything. It's like the tutors bought a library.

The vision of his mother dancing a classical waltz in her gown rose up again in his mind.

My mother taught me to dance. I did not have a tutor for everything.

It dawned on him that he was homeschooled, and did not attend a private school. He frowned.

Although I cannot be certain that it’s not just the last two weeks that I was exclusively taught by tutors.

He read through the next book, this one on trigonometry. His fingers fumbled with a few of the thin pages but otherwise he maintained his 650 words per minute pace.

The modern poetry book was a shorter read, fewer words than the trigonometry book or I would have completed it faster.

He put the book down and made some notes from memory then turned back to the page showing the diagrams to check his work.

And I remember it perfectly. That proves it! I must have already learned this and it’s easier for me to learn it a second time. If I can find a floor plan of the estate, or a list of employees, then I can learn those things again. It will be like I never forgot them.

Agnus wrote down another trigonometry proof without error again. His brain felt swollen with the recovered knowledge. And reading became difficult.

Agnus took a moment to drink some water and eat a couple of cookies from a platter.

Maybe I’ve read enough for today. I don’t want to injure myself by remembering things too quickly.

He rubbed his temples until the sensation passed.

Harriet returned then. She had been gone close to an hour. She opened the door to find Agnus with a pile of books on one side and a stack of notes on his other.

“My you have been busy!” She said. "Make sure you take your time, you might even read them more than once so you can retain the information."

“Great uncle expects great things from me, I intend to give them to him soon.”

“It’s time for your next vitamins.” She said and handed him the pill and a glass of orange juice on a silver tray.

He downed them without taking his eyes from the book he was reading.

Have I been sitting this whole time?

“I’m glad you are back Harriet. I’d like your help. I’m going to practice walking again.” He said.

“Of course Agnus.” She replied and set down the tray.

He did a self assessment and he was 85% recovered.

So my physical abilities should be better than they were previously.

He paced the distance from the chair by the desk to the bed several times. He stumbled often but Harriet was there to encourage him or catch him by the armpits and stop him from falling.

Once I have recovered great uncle will terminate her.

The outcome was clear in his mind. He could see exactly how his great uncle would come to what he would consider the easy solution. Why should he keep a nurse on staff once he was recovered?

Why do I want to keep Harriett around? She is not my mother. My parents are gone. If I ask about them this evening it would still be considerably normal that I was still recovering.

But I need to recover quickly. Do I have to keep losing people to move forward?