Grave Business

Eight years later. June 3rd.

Twenty-year-old Todd Bailey was in the library, as usual. He was hidden beneath a mountain of books, scribbling notes into a thick, messy journal. His large, round glasses slid down the bridge of his narrow nose and pushed his glasses back up into place automatically, not breaking from his studying.

He was studying up on something fascinating : acupuncture methods in China. Actually, he'd stumbled upon the subject accidentally. Todd had been buying some groceries in the market for his mother and was persuaded into buying some fish from an elderly Asian gentleman in a rather shabby stall. The state of the stall didn't bother Todd so much and the cod looked quite fresh. The man, thrilled to have a customer, garbled at Todd through a barely understandable mixture of Chinese and English accents.

However, Todd did manage to gather that the man thought Todd was mal-nourished ('like stick, govna'!') and the man launched into a description of Todd's muscles and bones and how they were all constricting the flow of nutrients ('food cannot moof! You are all twisted up, crazy lad boy') and that acupuncture would set him straight ('like Hercules! Get all the ladies, live to be a hundred, sonny'). Todd took the groceries back to his mother's house and then scuttled off to the library.

There was next to nothing on the medicinal qualities of acupuncture, but Todd scraped together everything he could about the musculature of the human body and on the traditional pressure points in the spine. The method, while somewhat metaphysical, seemed to have some legitimacy to it. Todd effortlessly sketched out the Vitruvian man (he'd had considerable practice drawing DA Vince's original piece) and then added needle points to the classic sensitive trigger zones on the body.

"Todd?"

Todd jumped in his seat and then grinned up at Mary Somers, the librarian.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you said you were meeting Dr. Hickby at four," The matronly woman reminded him with a gentle frown.

"I did. I mean I do. I mean, I am," He flustered and then laughed at himself.

"Well, it's nearly quarter past, love," She told him. Todd leapt up from his seat and pulled a pocket watch from out of his unbuttoned waist coat pocket.

"Oh no! I've lost track of time!" Todd realized and rushed to scoop up his work.

"Oh Todd," Mrs. Somers sighed but helped him stack up his papers and then handed them to him. He held everything haphazardly against his chest and then hustled past the librarian.

"Thanks Mrs. Somers!!" He yelled back to her, spooking the other patrons of the library, as he ran toward the exit.

Todd darted through the city streets, weaving expertly in and out people and jumping out of the way of carriages and street urchins who always seemed to gravitate towards him. Todd was tall, skinny, and kind looking: clearly a scholar and not a hardened boy of the streets. His compassion for other humans showed in his wide, innocent smile and his intelligent green eyes.

Todd ran up the steps of St. Joseph's hospital and hurtled himself through the entrance.

The main foyer was clogged with people. It reeked of sweat, blood, and horses. People were coughing and complaining and sighing and farting, horribly uncomfortably, but willing to wait as long as necessary to see a doctor. Todd squeezed through them to the grandmotherly woman behind the long main desk. She looked incredibly busy, sorting swiftly through paperwork and scribbling notes about patients in a large log book, but Todd had to interrupt her work for just a moment.

"Mrs. Chalmers," He began breathlessly. She looked up at with a start over her glasses.

"My goodness, Todd, you sounded just like your father. Gave me a turn-"

"Is Dr. Hickby still here?" He interrupted her, but grinned apologetically. She suddenly gave him a severe look.

"... yes. But we're very busy today, as you can see," She said, but Todd just grinned in relief.

"This'll only take a moment. Is he still working the third floor?" Todd asked as he began to scoot along Mrs. Chalmers's desk toward the staircase.

"Well... yes, but you really shouldn't disturb him- Todd, come back here!" She shouted after him as Todd scuttled off and took the steps two at a time. She sighed and then looked down at her work again.

"Like father, like son," She muttered to herself, fond of Todd regardless.

Todd came to the third landing and hurried past nurses and orderlies before they could recognize him and shoo him away. Todd swiftly peaked into every room; there were a great many people throwing up today (influenza had struck Oxford this season) and Todd moved on down the hall before the vomit could make his own stomach turn.

Suddenly, Dr. Hickby came out of the room Todd was approaching. The two collided, sending Todd's papers flying about.

"Good grief! Todd Bailey, what do you think you're doing??" Augustus Hickby exclaimed, exasperated. Todd immediately squatted to pick up his work again.

"I have something to show you, uncle! This is fascinating-" Todd began to say enthusiastically. Although Augustus wasn't technically related to Todd, he was Todd's godfather and a close friend of the Bailey family. He'd been there to help Todd and his mother, Alice, when Jonathon had passed away.

"Todd, I really can't today. I've got my plate overloaded with flu-" Augustus said, collecting a few stray pieces of paper that had drifted away and handing them back to the young man.

"Ew," Todd wrinkled his nose with a chuckle before he could stop himself.

"Todd-" Augustus began but Todd interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, uncle, but I think that maybe this could help! One of the symptoms of the flu is muscle cramps, right??" Todd said, getting to his feet and opening his large journal, careful not to spell any more papers.

"Yes, Todd, but-"

"I've been doing research in the library all afternoon on Chinese acupuncture," Todd said, flipping through his journal.

"Chinese acupunc-?"

"Look here, the pressure points in the joints and along the spine, when triggered slightly by an external force, could relieve cramping and allow for blood flow," Todd said, holding up his extensive notes for Augustus to see. Augustus glanced at the notes and then gently pushed them out of his face.

"Lad-"

"I've drawn a diagram! I could copy it and we could hand them out to the nurses, so that they knew which sensitive points to trigger in accordance with the patient's complaints about where their muscles are cramping-" Todd held up his sketch eagerly.

"Todd," Augustus said firmly, pushing Todd's arm down and looking away from the slightly disturbing graphic of Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian man with needles all over his body. Todd looked at Augustus and finally listened.

"Not today, son. Maybe another night, when I'm off duty, I'll come over and we can talk about your theory-" Augustus said patiently.

"But it could help people now, uncle, I-" Todd began but then broke off when he saw the look of exhaustion on Augustus's face.

"Go home, my boy," Augustus said kindly, gently clapping Todd on the shoulder. The skinny young man still swayed a little under the affectionate slap. Augustus continued on his way, meeting a harassed looking nurse who immediately handed him a file thick with papers and ushered him into another room.

Todd watched Augustus leave and then sighed. He realized his glasses had gone rather askew during his collision with Augustus and he adjusted them now, hooking the one side that had been dangling back onto his ear. Todd straightened his papers a little and held them under his arm more conventionally. He walked back down the stairs into the crowded main entrance, slipped through the throng of people, and out the hospital doors.

He took his time walking home, unable to help feeling a little defeated. He ought to be used to it by now: he'd been kicked out of medical school for his wild theories (the final straw had been an extensive essay discussing potential benefits of passing mild electrical currents through human muscles. His professors did not take to the description Todd had laid out; he had been mistakenly far too passionate and his descriptions of the therapy left the professors with the image of patients being struck violently by natural lightning). People had been reluctant to give him a chance, since he was the son of eccentric Dr. Bailey. And he had proven to be as a free-thinking and hair-raising as his father.

Todd sighed as he lightly kicked at the trunk of an old oak tree. He missed his father constantly. Jonathon Bailey had passed away when Todd was thirteen years old. There had been a terrible fever that winter and Jonathon had quickly fallen ill. In those later years of his life, he had become so dedicated to his research, he had let his own health slide.

Jonathon had been his son's hero; the one person in the world Todd felt had understood him. He could go to his dad about anything; try out an odd theory he'd formed from textbooks he'd read, or bring bits of worthless trinkets he thought were priceless artifacts. Nothing made Todd happier than to see the look of fascination and genuine curiosity on his father's face when he shared his interests with him. He knew from primary school that he would be hard bent to gain people's approve (skinny kids with wild ideas were often prime candidates for bullying), but his father was proud of him. And Todd realized that his father's approval was all that mattered.

Todd wandered up to the slightly run down Bailey Manor. Once upon a time, the Bailey's had been a wealthy family, but two generations of well intentioned, but slightly hare-brained scientists (Zachariah Bailey, Todd's grandfather, had spent a great deal of the Bailey money on travelling to exotic, far- off places) had sapped away quite a deal of their fortune. Todd's mother, Alice, had agreed to marry Jonathon Bailey because she was under the impression the Bailey's were still fabulously wealthy. She was disappointed, but not cast into despair, when she realized that they were in fact... not.

Jonathon Bailey had no head for business, but his wife had. She scrimped and managed and balanced the cheque book, making some small but relatively profitable investments. Most of the money Alice had managed to make, she and Jonathon and stored away for Todd's future. Even now, Todd had the suspicion that there was a chunk of money sitting in the bank, waiting for him to get married and have children of his own.

Alice was quite adamant about one day having grand children.

Todd unlocked the front door of the manor and opened it. The Bailey cat, a rare black female named Hephzibah, escaped outside between Todd's legs.

"Zebs, c'mere kitty," He said, still a little downcast over his minor failure at the hospital. He meowed and clicked his tongue, but Hephzibah ignored Todd. The large black cat jumped up into a small maple tree in the front yard and settled on a thick branch, watching the street for any suspicious activity. Todd sighed, feeling slightly more depressed over the rejection by his own cat, and went inside. He shrugged off his light overcoat and made to walk across the musty foyer toward the library.

"Todd?" He heard his mother call from upstairs.

"It's me," Todd assured her and continued on his way to the library.

"Come upstairs, will you, sweetheart? Bring in the post please," Alice requested, her strong voice ringing clearly. Todd turned back toward the front door, dropping his notes unceremoniously onto a chair by the coat rack.

"Oh and don't let 'Zibah out. She's been frightening Old Mrs. Perkins again," Alice said. Todd's shoulders sagged and then he opened the door, preparing himself for the epic struggle it would take to get Hephzibah back in the house.

But the cat darted back into the house immediately and ran partway up the stairs to jump on a window sill. Hephzibah looked out the window with scrutinizing eyes. Todd collected the post and brought it back inside. He ascended the stairs, giving Hephzibah a pat as he walked by, and then proceeded down the landing.

"Mum?" Todd called, looking through the letters. They were mainly bills.

"In here, dear," Alice replied. Todd pushed up his mother's study with the toe of his shoe. The room was meant to be a ladies' private tea and library room (and, indeed, Alice had a fine china tea set collecting dust in the corner), but she had instead fashioned the small room into an office.

Todd thought he looked like a peculiar combination of his mother and father. He had his father's face- the thin, but kindly structure- but his mother's emerald green eyes and auburn hair. Alice looked up at her son when he entered the room. She was a slim, but sturdy woman with a face that remained attractive regardless of age. While her demeanour was a little stern (unlike her son and late husband, who constantly looked as though they were in a vivid daydream, in her opinion) she was a kind-hearted person.

"Thank you," She said pointedly as Todd began to open one of the envelopes curiously. He stopped what he was doing, gave her a guilty grin, and handed her the mail. She smiled at him and went through it on her own. Todd sank down into an empty chair and stretched his long, skinny legs out in front of him. He exhaled his breath loudly out of his mouth, causing his mother to glance at him.

"Something on your mind, son?" She asked knowingly, opening the letter that had intrigued Todd.

"Uncle Augustus couldn't look at my research," Todd confessed, running his hand through his short, brown hair.

"Why not?" Alice asked mildly, unfolding her letter.

"Well... he was pretty busy. St. Joe's is overflowing with flu-"

"You went to the hospital?" Alice interrupted Todd sharply. He pressed his mouth together and guiltily avoided his mother's eye.

"How many times have I told not to go poking around the hospital, Todd? You're going to catch something deadly. And you know better than to bother Augustus while he's on duty," Alice reprimanded. Todd watch Hephzibah slip into the office and curl her long body around Todd's legs, purring loudly.

"I had too, mum. I thought I could help," He mumbled a little sadly.

"... Todd, sweetheart-" Alice began in a kind but patronizing voice.

"No, I really could have helped. But no one stops to listen for just one second! Maybe I could have saved someone's life-" Todd burst out, frustrated.

"... oh, honey-" Alice said, a little gentler now. Todd shook his head and stood up.

"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna go read in dad's library for a bit," Todd said, making to walk over to the door.

"Alright... but, Todd?" Alice insisted. Todd looked over his shoulder at him mother.

"Chin up, son," She said and smiled. Todd sighed a half smile.

"Thanks," He chuckled a little darkly.

"Close the door on your way out, dear," Alice requested, business-like again. "And close up the windows on the south side. The incinerators are on again," She grumbled unhappily. Todd closed the door and walked along the landing toward the south side of the house. He looked out the windows as he closed the panes at the factories in the distance. The smoke billowing from them was thick, black, and ugly. It smelled like overcooked pork and sulfur.

When Todd was finished with the windows, he wandered downstairs and into his father's library. The library was the place in the house that gave Todd the most comfort. He could sit in his armchair, the smaller one opposite Jonathon's old chair, and smell many scents that reminded him comfortably of his father. Old books and Jonathon's favourite toffee.

Jonathon Bailey's private study, where Jonathon had spent most of his hours, was attached to the library. Neither Todd nor Alice could stay in there very long without becoming overwhelmed with grief. The study was in the exact mess that Jonathon had left it- it smelled of everything that reminded them of him: leather books, toffee, shaving cream and a little bit of the unpleasant, pungently dry smell from the hospital.

Todd selected a book on ancient Chinese empires (written exclusively by a researcher who had spent so long living amongst the Chinese and learning about their history that the now elderly scholar swore to the statement that he was, in fact, a Chinese witch doctor from a long, lost line of Chinese shamans. Although the man was a little loony currently, his extensive research was sound). Todd read for several hours before falling asleep in his arm chair. He dreamed about Chinese toffee.