Foolish Insanity

Autumn; the time of year when the heat of summer fades away to a crisp, cool breeze. The leaves change color and fall from the trees, littering the streets. The clouds pass silently over the moon, while a thickening fog covers the rest of the world. Yes autumn, the perfect time of year for the death of a loved one.

Christopher lay curled up in Maggie’s bed, crying into her pillow. It was bad enough that he had lost the only person who had ever shown him any kindness but to make matters worse her own son had prevented him from attending her funeral due to his status. Christopher knew that he wasn’t truly part of the family, but he didn’t care; she was the only family he needed.

Up until two years ago, Christopher never knew what it meant to have a family. He had spent his entire childhood rotting away in an orphanage. During his time there he never fit in with the other orphans, as he was always considered an outcast among them. Everyone deemed him to be rather funny looking, with shaggy light brown hair, a wide-set nose, big lips, and an awkwardly skinny yet taller and bigger-boned build for a small boy. And as if his appearance weren’t enough, his mental state would have been enough to secure his outsider status. Christopher spent the first few years of his life sitting in the corner, virtually ignored by both the other children and the caretakers alike. He never drew attention to himself unless it was for something important like food or changing. But other than that he hardly ever moved or made any noise. It took him twice as long as the average child to develop his motor and verbal skills, barely walking by the time he was three years old and not speaking proper English until he was close to five. Even after learning these basic human functions he still refused to talk, although he would hide in dark corners and was heard singing to himself. In addition to his late development, he had developed several prominent quirks such as a gimp left leg, stuttering when under pressure, constant lip licking and fidgeting. In addition, he always maintained this default-dumbfounded expression that caused everyone around him to believe that he was a simpleton who would never amount to anything in his life.

Knowing that he was a lost cause and would never be adopted, at the age of twelve the orphanage had him thrown out onto the street. After weeks of picking food from the trash and sleeping in alleyways, he eventually found shelter and employment in a workhouse. Despite the hardships he endured at the orphanage, they were nothing compared to his time at the spike. He would often get punished for incompetence and laziness when in reality his limp prevented him from putting in the amount of work expected. Whenever any of the staff tried to call him out on his work ethic, all he could do was stammer in response, which most of the time led to beatings. After two years he had garnered enough punishments to get him kicked out, putting him right back to where he started. Had he not been forced back onto the streets though, he never would have met the love of his life, Mrs. Margaret Harrington.

It was an ordinary Thursday when Margaret was doing her usual market shopping. She was minding her own business when a commotion behind her had caught her attention. Hobbling in a desperate attempt to run away was the scrawny boy with an apple in his hand, followed by a grocer. “Stop! Thief!”

Christopher tripped on the stone pavement, falling flat onto his stomach. He grabbed the apple before cowering from the man. “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered. “I tried to grab the m-m-most bad looking one. Y-y-you probably d-d-don’t want it anymore since it’s b-b-been on the gr-ground.”

Margaret approached the two of them. “What seems to be the trouble?” she asked.

“This boy stole my fruit!”

“How much is that apple?”

“Five pence.”

Margaret took out the money to pay the man, who then walked away. She bent over to help Christopher up. “Are you alright?”

He looked up at her awestruck. Never in his life had he seen someone so elegant. A woman in her seventies, she had pulled back silver hair with still some dark color shining through and piercing green eyes. However, it was her warm, kind smile that shone through her soft wrinkles, causing him to view her as the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “Yes, th-th-thank you mum.”

“Young man, do you have any parents?”

“No mum.”

“What’s your name child?”

“Ch-Christo-ph-pher.”

“Christopher, what a handsome name for a handsome boy like yourself.” He could feel his cheeks burning up to a bright pink as he squeezed his fingers nervously. She couldn’t help but notice his fidgeting, letting out a small chuckle as she pulled his hand out from his grasp and held it tightly in her gloved hand. “No need to be nervous around me dear. My name is Margaret, but you can call me Maggie.”

For the first time that he could remember, possibly in his life, he smiled. “Maggie,” he repeated.

“How would you like me to escort you home then?”

“I d-don’t have one.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she stated sympathetically. “Why don’t I bring you home with me? Would you like that?”

“Oh yes mum,” he nodded repeatedly.

“Wonderful! I just need to finish some shopping before we can go home.” She slipped her hand around his arm and the two took off on their stroll. “You see today is my dear Avery’s birthday, but unfortunately he passed away about twenty years ago. So every year on his birthday I always bake a cake to celebrate. Have you ever helped bake a cake before?”

“No mum; n-never ate one either.”

“Never eaten…! Oh dear boy, well that is going to change today. We’ll bake the cake together and then eat it together. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good mum.”

“Please, no need to be so formal with me. I’ve already told you, call me Maggie.”

“Yes, Maggie.”

“Would you like another slice of cake?”

“Yes please!”

Maggie cut yet another slice of cake and placed it onto Christopher’s plate. After they had returned home she had him take a bath and gave him a clean change of clothes. Afterward, he helped her bake the cake. Before she finished eating her first slice he was already done and ready for another. When she asked him how he liked it, he had expressed that it was the most wonderful thing he’d ever tasted. She was done eating, but this was his third slice, so she watched him eat, smiling at him. “You poor thing, you must really be starving.”

“Yes mum,” he replied with his mouth full.

She reached out and once again took his hand. Despite the boniness that naturally came with age, there was something comforting about her touch that caused him to look down at it before looking up into her eyes. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Okay.” His voice was shaking with nerves.

“Ever since my husband died I’ve spent almost every day alone in this house, especially since the rest of the family is out living their lives and don’t have time for an old girl like me. It’s so quiet here and I get so lonely. On top of that, I can’t in good conscience send you back out on the street to live like a sewer rat. So how would you like to live here with me?”

“You really mean that?” She smiled and nodded. “Oh yes, Maggie! Yes!” He had never felt such joy in his life. For the first time ever, he initiated physical contact, standing up and wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around her, resting his head on her shoulder. To make the feeling even better, she returned his embrace. He didn’t want to let go, tears of happiness streaming down his cheeks.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by the sound of the front door opening. “Grandmother, I’m home!” a voice called.

Christopher immediately pushed himself away, starting to go into a panic. “Don’t worry child,” Maggie assured him, sitting him back down. “You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Suddenly a young woman who appeared to be a few years older than Christopher joined them. She gasped upon seeing the stranger in the kitchen. “Grandmother, who is this?”

“Hattie, this is Christopher. He’s going to be living with us from now on.”

“Does this mean we’re finally wealthy enough for a servant?”

“No, he’s not a servant.”

“Oh, so you’re adopting him? Does that make him my uncle or my brother?”

“I’m not adopting him either. I’m simply taking him in and providing him with a home. Besides you’re always busy doing whatever it is you do, so he’s going to keep me company.”

“Alright. Sounds a little strange that an old woman would want to spend her days with some random boy, but I’m not one to judge.” She then noticed the cake sitting on the counter. “Oh yes, I forgot all about Grandfather’s birthday cake.” She walked over and cut herself a slice.

Later that night at dinnertime the final member of the household had come home. “Hello Father,” Hattie greeted, running up to him as he removed his hat and coat.

“Hello Pumpkin,” he replied, kissing her on the cheek.

“Wait until you see the surprise Grandmother has.”

“Her annual birthday cakes for your grandfather really aren’t a surprise.”

“I know, but that’s not the surprise,” she grinned with a mischievous smile.

He walked into the dining room and was shocked upon seeing Christopher sitting there with his mother. “Oh, Arthur you’re finally home. I’d like you to meet Christopher; he’s going to live with us from now on.”

Maintaining his composure, but still obviously uncomfortable, Arthur approached him, placing his hand out. “Hello Christopher, welcome to our home.” Christopher simply stared at him in response.

After dinner, Maggie showed Christopher his new bedroom, which up until now had been the guest room. “I apologize if my son and his daughter have intimidated you today, but don’t worry, they will learn to love you. Besides you’re here to spend time with me, not them.”

Christopher changed into his night garment and tucked himself into bed. “I’ve never been to such a nice bed before.”

“Well get used to it. From now on everything will be better, you’ll see.” She kissed him on the forehead and stroked his hair. “Good night.”

“Good night mum,” he replied drowsily. She turned off the light and closed the door.

As she made her way to her room Arthur stopped her. “Mother, we need to talk.”

“About what dear?”

He followed her into her bedroom, closing the door behind him. “Alright, what’s this strange business with the boy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why are you doing this? Are you really so desperate for a companion that you would literally pick one up off the street?”

“I’m lonely Arthur, and it gets so boring spending all day alone in this place. Is it so wrong for me to want a companion?”

“I know you miss Father, but look at me. I miss Catherine, but you don’t see me finding comfort in the arms of a dirty stranger.”

“That’s because you have work to distract you. And he’s not a stranger, you don’t know him as I do.”

“You really think you know him? You just met that boy today! How do you know he’s not really some little thief? What if you wake up in the morning to find him gone with a good number of our possessions missing?”

“Christopher’s not a thief, he’s a good boy.”

“Mother, if you’re really that desperate for companionship why not get a pet?”

“Why do you not like him? He hasn’t done anything to you and he makes me happy.”

“There’s just something about him. He has this look that looks like he’s not right in the head.”

“That’s because the poor thing has been neglected and abused his whole life. All he needs is a big heaping of motherly affection and he’ll be good as new. You’ll see.”

In the oncoming days, Maggie was proven right. Christopher was the perfect companion for her. They cooked together, talked together, went outside together. They would even sing songs together while she played the piano, commenting on what a beautiful voice he had. She would often spoil him by providing him with treats and presents, and in return, he would often pick flowers from the garden to give her. Of course, she did try to teach him basic skills like reading, but he would get frustrated, as he couldn’t even identify the letters of the alphabet. Yet he loved it whenever she would read books to him, usually snuggling up against her like a lap dog. With each day, his physical contact with her would increase, so that before she knew it she could barely get him off her. But she didn’t mind; it had been years since the last time she had received that level of intimacy. In fact, there were nights when Christopher couldn’t sleep that he would come to her and they would spend the night cuddling.

However, things weren’t completely perfect. Christopher still had to put up with Arthur and Hattie. He didn’t mind Hattie so much because she was usually busy doing her own thing, but he still didn’t necessarily care for her. Arthur on the other hand always frightened him, even if he didn’t do anything to him. Any time they made contact Arthur would always fake smile to him to make Maggie happy, and every time Christopher always saw right through him. Whenever there was company in the house, Christopher had to remain locked in his room. Maggie would always comfort him, telling him that she knows how being around people makes him feel uncomfortable and that she was keeping him away for his own sake. Even though he didn’t like sharing her with her family, he loved her more than anything and wanted to spend every waking minute with her.

Christopher’s time with Maggie was the best of his life. Little did he know that it wasn’t going to last as long as he had hoped. After two years together, he couldn’t help but notice that with each day passing Maggie was gradually slowing down. Slowly but surely physical tasks became harder and harder for her. Their music sessions had stopped and they no longer made food together due to the physical pain it caused her. During this time Christopher would wait on her hand and foot to make sure she was comfortable. Eventually, it got to the point where Maggie couldn’t even get out of bed. When that happened Christopher refused to leave her side, usually cuddling in bed beside her while holding on to her unless it was to tend to her every need. Every night Hattie and Arthur would check in on her, in which case Christopher was asked to leave the room to give them some private time much to his dismay.

Arthur was keeping Maggie company, holding her hand as tight as he could, as she lay half awake. “Arthur…” Her scratchy voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m here, mother. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Arthur, you must promise me something.”

“Anything mother.”

“When I’m gone, you must continue to provide Christopher a home here.”

Arthur was shocked and offended by her request. She was on her deathbed; her loving son beside her, and still, all she could think about was her weird little boy toy. He was especially hoping to finally be rid of him as soon as she was gone, and now what were probably her last words to him were about making sure he didn’t. As much as he hated the thought, he put on one of his fake smiles and nodded. “I will.”

“Thank you, son. Now bring him to me.”

“Yes, mother.” As soon as he stood up and turned around, his smile dropped into a scowl of resentment. He knocked on Christopher’s bedroom door. “She wants you.”

Christopher came out of his room and hurried to Maggie. Her face lit up as soon as she saw him. “Come, child,” she said, using all her strength to pat the space in the bed next to her. “Sleep with me tonight.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he climbed into bed beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his body against her while she wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair. “I don’t know how much time I have left,” she said, her voice deep with melancholy. “But I want you to know that no matter what happens to me, I will always love you very much. I may not be with you anymore, but know that as long as you carry me in your heart I will never truly be gone. Do you understand?” Fighting back tears, he nodded. “Good.” She kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Christopher.”

“I love you too Maggie,” he replied, his voice choking up, fighting back tears. Without another word, they both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning Christopher woke up to find a stiff body in his arms. “Maggie?” He pressed his head against her chest to face the unbearable truth that he wished he could deny; she was dead. “Maggie?” his voice rose in fear. He began to desperately shake her body. “Maggie! Maggie wake up! Wake up!!”

Arthur burst into the room, Hattie following behind him. “What is going on?” he demanded. As soon as he saw what was happening, he stormed over to them. “Get away from her!”

“No!” He clutched her body even harder.

Arthur wrapped his arms around him trying to pull him off Maggie. “Get off her!”

“No!” Christopher used all his strength to hold on to her. He knew that as soon as Arthur would break him off her, he would never get to touch her again. Unfortunately for him, Arthur succeeded in pulling him away, despite how he struggled in his arms.

“Hattie, help me restrain him.” She ran over and held on to Christopher, who continued to struggle, while Arthur went over to Maggie. “Mother,” his voice cracked.

Christopher lay in Maggie’s bed as he heard the crowd of voices from downstairs, everyone had returned from the funeral. He couldn’t help but be filled with anger; all these people coming together to celebrate her life and mourn her loss, and yet he knew that not a single person there loved her unconditionally the way he did. It was better this way; when it came to her love, he was above everyone.