Edgar Allan Poe's Hometown/ A Feline's Dream

     My home town of Auburn, New York is often called History's hometown. It's a heavy title to carry but it does it very well. It is home to one of the most interesting prisons in the nation(it held the first electric chair and some speculate it has tunnels running beneath it to other parts of the city). It is also where William H. Seward(24th secretary of state) and his family called home. His home in Auburn also played a large part in the Lincoln assassination scheme. Seward was often visited by many notable people back in the day, including the one and only Charles Dickens. And if that is not enough it is also where Harriet Tubman lived out the latter part of her life.
     So when I moved to Boston I was already bred to be a history buff and could not wait to explore. Boston has had countless interesting things to offer thus far and has not disappointed yet. Until today that is. Many are unaware of the fact that Boston, not Baltimore is the birthplace of one of the best writers there has ever been( or ever will be). Edgar Allan Poe. As a "writer" myself he has been one of my largest if not the largest inspiration. He was the first author whose work I really fell in love with, even predating Kurt Vonnegut for me. So with Poe's birthday this coming Sunday I decided to track down his original dwellings and this is what I found.

The lack of history

     This is the view from street behind 62 Charles St. South(formerly Carver St.), just off of the Boylston T Stop. This would technically be the view of the back of Poe's house if it were still there. But it's not. Edgar Allan Poe's birthplace was torn down to the ground in 1959. When I rounded to corner to get the view from the front I saw this.

What should be an historic site

     I'm still not really sure what that thing is that has been placed there in place of the original house. I should also say that there are absolutely no markings anywhere near the area claiming that this was where one of the worlds greatest authors/poets was born. Nothing. I spent a few sad minutes taking pictures of the area and decided to move onto Poe's Square. I had read about this on google, which also tells you that Poe's birthplace is two blocks north of its actual location. I was very excited to find an article saying that there was a new statue installed in the square called "Poe returning to Boston". I wandered about until I found it. Here it is.

"Poe Square"

     Once again, nothing. Well almost nothing. There was a weird metal thing that had a portrait of Poe painted on it and something that looked liked a few lines as well. It was nice, but to any passerby it honestly just looks like graffiti(very good graffiti). When I found what google told be was his birthplace I found this little plaque attached to the side of a Mexican restaurant stating a few facts(interestingly enough not his actual birthplace.)

The weird metal thingy

The misleading plaque

     The first thing I noticed was the lack of the awesome statue that was supposed to be there. I was lucky enough to happen upon a shop that had some information in its window pertaining to the statute. This Sunday they will have a meeting to look further into installing the statue. They are even going to serve a Raven cake in Poe's honor. Hopefully this will happen soon and Boston will again represent one of its own. For more information please check out the facebook link below for the Poe Statue Project.

The Poe Statue Project

 I understand that Poe did not speak highly of Boston and left it for Baltimore(mainly due to the ridicule the press at the time gave him) but that was literally over a hundred years ago. It's time for Boston to do right.

So this weeks story is for the man that most of Boston has forgotten. Thank you for everything.

A Feline's Dream

     “Come on sweetie, time for dinner!” Frederick called up the stairs. Shortly after he called he heard the pitter patter of the four paws clambering down. Her name was Heidi. Her fur was a lovely perfect fluff of white, the collar around her neck was a beautiful shade of pink and was adorned with clear sparkling diamonds. They were not fake diamonds either, Fred had paid a hefty price for it as a Christmas gift for his favorite girl. Five grand to be exact. They were nice, very nice.

     She had been a stray. He found her one thunder filled night cowering in fear on the back porch. She looked beaten and battered, so he took her in and cared for her. He nursed her back to health.

Fred's love for Heidi was all consuming, he had never loved anyone or anything in quite the same was that he loved her. He was constantly surrounded by cats when he was young and he supposed it had left quite a soft spot in his heart for the felines.

     “Ah, there you are,” He smiled a wide toothy smile when he saw her, he looked like a fool. He could not think of anything better in life than the joy that Heidi brought him. She occupied his heart to the fullest measure, leaving room for little else. He would often find himself up late at night crying at those godawful save the animals commercials. The slow saddening shots always led to him picking up the phone to donate, it was the least he could do. Who could ever harm those beautiful beasts, who?

And then just when he was at his happiest it would happen, just as it did every night. The sleeping, or more specific the sharing of the sleeping area. How he loathed it. He would mutter it louder and louder each night.

     “Stupid bitch! What kind of woman doesn't even leave her husband a meal to come home to? Fucker. I'll show her tomorrow what happens to bitches who can't cook their man a meal.” He shut out the light.

     He woke before Elizabeth. She always tried to stay in bed as long as she could. It was nearly ten before she decided she could no longer fake her sleep. She dressed slowly, biding her time. Today was Sunday, he would be home. She arrived home late last night, she was out visiting her mother and had fallen asleep upon arriving home.when she finally awoke he was already asleep beside her; she knew that today would be a bad day. She found the shirt with the longest sleeves, it was easier to sweat in the sweltering heat than it was to explain away the bruises. She descended the stairs one by one.

     “Good morning dear,” she said timidly.

     “I'm hungry. I had no dinner.” He said the latter with anger in his voice.

     “I'm so sorry dear. I was just... just visiting my mother and...”

     She felt it. She heard it. It wasn't her first cracked rib and she knew that it would not be her last. He never went for her face. She couldn't cover that, or rather it would look very strange if she did. It would draw attention and no one wanted that. In the seconds following the blow she found herself glancing helplessly towards the floor; anywhere but his face. Her eyes never met his but did however met those of the cat's. Heidi had made her way into the kitchen in the silent manor that only her kind can. And for that fleeting second when their eyes locked onto each others everything went away; all the pain, all the grief.

     She wanted to hate that cat. Hate it with everything that her body could manage to hate with. She wanted to punish it for taking the place in his heart that she should occupy. But she couldn't. How could she blame such a harmless creature?

     The days and weeks passed and things remained as they always had. The pain was still in her rib; renewed with a new impact. Nothing changed, well almost nothing. Heidi was beginning to grow apart from her current master and instead began to favor the battered woman. Elizabeth took to the cat as well, but in all honesty she wished that Heidi had not grown fond of her in the first place. Frederick did not approve of the new friendship. If Heidi was not to be his then she would be nobodies; and as for Elizabeth; he would take care of that as well.

     His plan was simple, he had done it so many times before. Elizabeth was not his first. He did it in the same manner each time. He would call them into the garage; all surfaces covered ahead of time with plastic sheets. When they entered the room it would only take one shot, or one slash to the throat if he was feeling adventurous. Then the whole lot, weapons, sheets, and woman would be placed in a large blue plastic barrel. He would then proceed to fill the barrel with cement and roll it onto his boat. The next morning, before dawn, he would drive out to the sea and head out. He would go straight out, as far as one tank of fuel would allow him to. The barrels just needed a small push. The blue black waters of the oceans would consume it, finish the job he had started. He would refill the tank with the red plastic gas can he brought along and head back for the shore. If he was lucky he would find himself with enough extra time to try and lure in a pesky smallmouth bass or two.

     He would do it tomorrow night, after the rest of the city was asleep. He would use the blade this time; she truly deserved it. The garage had been set for the next evenings performance. He was growing tired. Up the stairs he carried himself. He found no hate in his heart that night, he would save it all for the following day. That night he slept with an easy mind.

     He dreamt. In his dreams he was free, he could do anything. Inside of his dreams he ran into what he loved most. It was Heidi but not in the way he was used to seeing her. She was much larger, closer to a woolly mammoth than a cat. She played gently with him however, her huge rough tongue laced his face with her cat breath. He loved every moment of it, and then, she spoke.

     “Frederick, you have saved me from the cold and damp. You have given me a place to sleep and feed, a place to be safe from the harm that others could bring me.”

     Frederick blushed a deep shade of crimson. A large toothy grin again stretched across his face, onc e again he looked like an idiot.

“But there is one you never care for, or should I say cared for?”

His smile was gone, confusion and anger had taken its place, “you mean that sorry excuse for a wife? She is lucky that she gets treated the way that she does, she is deserving of so much less.”

Heidi gave a threatening quiet hiss, her yellow eyes growing larger. “It is true you have been unfair to the girl. She took you on as a husband and how have you repaid her? Even a blind man could see it Frederick, she loves you. Even after all you have done to her she still loved you. An honest man can go a lifetime without ever finding a love like that. And yet here you sit, or rather lie beside her and plan her death.”

     She paused, gave her paw a lick, raised it to her ear and gently brushed back her fur.

     “You don't understand! You don't know what it's like-”

     Heidi interrupted with a loud feline shriek, like an alley cat competing for prey. “I do not need you to tell me what I do an do not understand. All these years I have sat upon your lap while you stroke my fur. All those years you have gazed into my eyes and whispered into my ears, yet still you haven't the faintest idea Frederick. You claim you love me? So why is it that when you shut out the lights and pat my head that you enter sleep with a heavy heart and a busy mind? You believe to be because of your wife? No. The woman has done no wrong to you. It is because of me Frederick."

     “When you wake up in the wee hours of the night and spot me silently watching in the corner you can feel it. In the pit of your stomach, in the marrow of your bones, you feel it. But you choose night after night to push those feelings down. You shan’t allow those feelings to ones you truly love, your precious Heidi.

     She stopped talking and gave her paw another lick. This time she wiped it about her neck. Her beautiful white fur turned an awful blackish red. Blood. She tilted her head back and revealed the wound. Across her neck stretched a long deep gash, the blood began to pour out covering her fur and the surrounding floor.

     “Don't you remember?,” she asked. “I was your first. Well your first with the blade anyway, a bit sloppy wouldn't you say?”

     He leapt from where he was sitting and ran. Where he was running he was not quite sure, for the surrounding space was only occupied by a white nothingness. He had gotten maybe three steps before the paw came down. He was trapped beneath it, blood raining down on his face.

     “It can't be...”

     “Oh, but it is sweetie. How your precious little Heidi; excuse me; I mean your precious little Stephanie has missed you.”

Frederick began to struggle beneath her weight, trying to escape, “it's just a dream, it's just a dream!”

     “No,” said Stephanie, “it is not.”

     He could feeling it happening. Little by little. The claws of the massive being were slowly penetrating his chest. The only blood to be seen now was his own.

     “But how?”

     “You were always so naïve,” she laughed, “you always told me that my friends were strange, weirdos. Well you were right. Actually maybe not strange per se but unique. We had grown up with the same group of us since we were all little girls. I can still remember Marcy's grandmother. So skinny and pale, her fingernails almost as long as her hair. She used to babysit us, we hated it. She would tell us these stories of witches and monsters. They got more and more elaborate the older we grew. Then one day she told us, told us the truth. They weren’t stories at all, they were all true. We were maybe eighteen when we joined her coven. We were all so horrible at it, I was the worst of the lot. I could just never get a hang of it.”

     Shortly after you killed me however she found me. She had long since passed herself but still she pulled me back from the black. She is the one who truly saved me. I told her what had happened and she took me with her to another realm. There she taught me all that I would need to know.”

The claws sunk deeper and deeper. He could feel his heart trying to fend them off, his lungs trying to seal the punctures. He could not speak. He could only gasp and wipe away the tears. Stephanie leaned in with more weight.

     “You will never harm her again. Not her or anyone else.”
     This time it was his rib cracking. Stephanie noticing his proximity to death removed her claws. She gave them a final lick and raised them one final time.

     “Let me show you how it is done.”

     She gave one clean slash to the neck and Frederick fell limp. He did not wake up, he never would.

     Elizabeth woke the following morning alone, there was no one at her side. There was no one downstairs. The was simply no one. This did not startle her however, for in her mind this was how it had always been. Just her and the cat growing old together. She had never married, she never found the right man. She was completely content with that fact though. She was happy, she had no problems, no worries. The only thing she ever found to complain about was a slight pain in her rib when she would cough too strongly.

     She stared at the cat, listened to it purr and watched as it slowly gave into sleep. She smiled, gave it a pet, and wondered to herself what that crazy feline could be dreaming of.