The Runt of the Litter

Chapter Four

3rd of August 1827

Jonathan gazed into his son's deep chestnut eyes. What a beautiful boy he had. So full of life and so like his father...his young father.

Jonathan had no idea where Isabella has disappeared off to but she had gone nonetheless, leaving him with his child, Samuel.

Jonathan missed his mother so much now that he had Jonathan to raise and couldn't help thinking how much easier it would be if she was here, advising him how to teach Samuel to walk, to talk, to understand and to grow to be the best in life. Jonathan was raised almost entirely by his mother. His father was just there for the ultimate discipline purposes.

Jonathan knew his father had no idea about the trips Jonathan sometimes made to his little sister. Oh yes, Jonathan knew all right. His father pretended she didn't exist, pretended he had no youngest daughter who was clearly a retard.

Her birthday had been lost long ago, along with her name. The girl was just...there. Like a blade of grass on a lawn. Not very significant and easily lost but always there, making up the whole thing. But yet people tried to pretend she didn't exist. He even wondered if his younger brother (second eldest) Douglas Michaels The Fourth remembered the girl they stored away in the attic.

Jonathan was going to see her again, and leave his son until his mother came back to amuse him some more.

"Now, Samuel," Jonathan put on his 'daddy' voice. Firm but loving. "Stay in here until your mother comes back."

"Yes, daddy," Samuel lisped, nodding fiercely to show his father how good he was. "Stay until mummy comes back."

"Yes, good boy," Jonathan muttered, giving Samuel's hair a little tousle. "Good bye Samuel."

"Bye, daddy!"

Jonathan shut the door softly and crept up the many flights of stairs. While all the floors were easily accessed via a flight of stairs, the attic was not. For that you needed to have a string to open up the ceiling and bring down the ladder. It was quite a feat of engineering this folding ladder business. Specially designed so no one but those who knew could get there.

And his father had no idea Jonathan knew too.

Clambering up to the top of the ladder, Jonathan spied his youngest sister staring out the window, sitting on her haunches, rocking back and forth as usual.

Another thing as usual, she didn't even notice he was there.

Jonathan came up one or twice a week to try get his little sister to learn how to speak. He planned one day when his sisters were married of, his parents deceased, and his own children married off, he would take his sister out form the attic and bring her somewhere - anywhere - that should could stay and belong.

Maybe a shop or an elderly couple needed some sort of domestic help somewhere.

He was going to teach his little sister commands and basic sentences, so that maybe people will find her simplicity a help as they simply order her around and she knows to do nothing but follow. Yes, he would train his sister for a life where she isn't trapped in a dark room, hidden away from civilisation.

The employers could work out the rest.