The Last True Gentleman On The Planet Earth

Chapter One

“Girls, it’s well past your bedtime,” their mother suddenly said. “You will be three monsters in the morning if you don’t get your sleep right now.”

Resigned, the girls got up and went up to their rooms. They brushed their teeth and brushed each other’s hair and turned out the lights. They knew they wouldn’t sleep tonight.

Downstairs their mother moved the hat and sat beside her husband. He placed a hand gently, lovingly upon her lap. “Right there in the street,” he said. That was the only time the girls had heard their mother weep.

The storm continued unabated. The girls turned on the light and moved to the window seat in the large bay window. They sat with pillows and blankets and stared out at the icy frozen desert. The early evening light had faded to black and they watched the reflection of themselves watching in the window. “I wonder if Father gave back the hat?” asked Elizabeth, waking them from their silence.

Sarah spoke, “Father never mentions it. . . They are late now.”

“But still not that late,” said Alice.

Elizabeth went back to her book.

“What’s that, there on the lawn?” asked Sarah, pointing excitedly.

The girls pressed their faces to the freezing glass. There on the lawn a black shape was winding its way among the drifts.

“Is it a dog?” said Alice.

“No,” said Elizabeth, “it’s a fox, look at its tail, that’s a huge fox.”

“But aren’t they supposed to be asleep by now?” Alice asked. “If I could sleep all winter I certainly would.”

“What is it doing out in the snow? Do you think it’s lost something?” said Sarah.

They all watched as the lone black shape moved across the whiteness below.

“Is it hurt? It must be hungry,” said Elizabeth.

“Look,” shouted Sarah, “there’s another!”

“And another,” pointed Alice.

And suddenly there were five foxes moving sequentially on the front lawn. They circled elegantly and then went out of view.

“I think I’m frightened,” said Sarah.

Alice brought her knees up to her chest and pulled her dress over them. “I can’t imagine what they are doing out there. They should be asleep, they must be confused, it isn’t warm out yet. It’s been freezing all winter, the pond is solid ice.”

“Look!” shouted Elizabeth, “they’ve come back.”

The girls looked out.

“They’re looking up at us,” whispered Alice. “Put out the light.” Sarah got up and turned off the lamp. The lawn was instantly transformed into a stormy blue tundra punctuated by the black shapes of the foxes. They formed a line and sat.

“They really are looking at us,” said Sarah.

Then came a loud knock on the door. “That must be Mother and Father!” Alice said excitedly.

Sarah frowned, “How could it be? We’ve been staring out at the front this whole time.”

Elizabeth whispered, “Should we answer it?”

The sound again, three definite knocks. The girls stiffened.

“We’ll answer it together,” said Alice.

The girls found their slippers then crept out into the hall. They inched their way along the wall to the upper landing and peered down the stairs; there definitely was a shadowy shape in the glass of the door. They moved down the stairs to the entrance hall. Alice put the chain across the door then reached for the latch, opening it slightly. A mean blast of arctic air came rushing in.

“Who’s there?” Sarah asked, standing behind Alice, pushed in the back by Elizabeth.

“My name is Alfred Rutherford,” the voice shouted through the half opened door. “I am a philosopher -- well, economist-philosopher. My car has run aground in a drift and I simply cannot motivate it out. May I use your telephone?”

The girls looked at each other; they were expressly forbidden to allow anyone into the house but this seemed an emergency so Alice opened the door. In stepped a very tall, very thin middle-aged man covered in snow. He had a scarf wrapped very high around him; it started below his shoulders and went all the way up to his nose. He wore three impractical dress jackets — a tweed, a dinner and a school blazer — and had on some sort of summer fishing hat that exposed his ears, which were bight red, as was the tip of his nose. His very bushy eyebrows were caked with ice. He took off his hat and ice fell to the floor.

“Oh dear. Thank you so much. I am lucky to have found my way at all. I never venture out to the country as I am absolutely terrified of spiders, however I thought it being winter my chances of an encounter would be slim.” He pulled off his gloves to reveal another pair underneath, which he pulled off to reveal another. “I am so ill prepared. I have no winter clothing. I tend to keep indoors during inclement weather such as this.” He looked at the three girls.

“My name is Elizabeth, this is Sarah and Alice.” Elizabeth said.

“How do you do. Please forgive me. I am sorry, I have a terrible relationship with nature.” He was beginning to drip.

Alice said, “You are defrosting, you need to dry off or you will freeze up like pole once you step back outside.”

“Very wise. And your telephone? I am expected and my hosts are apt to fear the worst, for I had bravely said I’d make the journey by motorcar. What was I thinking?” He waved his hand about. He undid his boots and slid them off then followed Alice and Sarah down the hall to the phone, leaving a trail of oddly shaped footprints on the tile.

When they were out of sight Elizabeth looked out the front door window. Through the gloom and the blowing snow she made out the black shapes of the five enormous foxes still sitting patiently watching the house.