Part 1: In a Different Light, by Dean Engelhardt

“With five feeble senses we pretend to comprehend the boundless complex cosmos, yet other beings with a wider, stronger or different range of senses might not only see very differently the things we see, but might see and study whole worlds of matter, energy and life which lie close at hand yet can never be detected with the senses we have.”
                                                                                                                                  — H.P. Lovecraft

Part 1: Don’t You be Eyeballing Me Man!

Jonah Franklin (Keith): MU grad student who traveled Europe with Gerald who was killed by Brownshirts in Germany. Kleptomaniac.

Arthur Cottar (Matt): Gerald’s fraternity brother who went on to become big-game hunter. Wealthy family.

Donald Joseph (Max): Doctor of Psychiatry (mad doctor); Professor at MU. Gerald took a class under him.

Herbert Stratton (Brian): Daily Herald reporter who is following up on Gerald’s obituary note of death by Brownshirts.

[Gerald Feinstein was killed in Germany weeks ago. His body returned home to America on the H.M.S. Adriatic. Jonah his only surviving friend of that trip per the scenario… http://rigglew4.blogspot.com/2019/01/trans-atlantic-terror-part-1.html]

Sunday, 16 April 1922; 3pm:  An already gloomy day with overcast sky and wet mist as the hearse pulls into the Aylesbury Hill Cemetery leading a small procession of cars. Probably half those attending were gawkers curious to any wealth left behind by the deceased. Five men gather at the back of the hearse, fidgeting as they wait, “Where’s Michael, our 6^th pallbearer?” The reverend impatiently checking his watch. Mrs. Helen Feinstein interceding, calling on help, “Dr. Joseph, would you mind joining Jonah and Arthur as pallbearer to help put my poor boy to rest?” A somber procession as Gerald’s casket is finally lowered into the open grave. Prayers and kind words before each attendee shovels a scoop of dirt onto the casket in passing. No one notices the ball endcap to one of the casket handrails missing; nor notice an equivalent bulge in Jonah’s coat pocket.

4pm: A smaller procession of cars drive east along Main Street to Helen’s house for the wake. “Arthur, I can’t thank you enough for the flowers and food. You always were like a brother to Gerald. Now look at you; so grown up and refined.” Arthur reminiscing about their days as Phi Beta Kappa fraternity brothers at Miskatonic University. Then Helen misunderstanding Dr. Joseph's recollection, “Just an average student? Well, Gerald wasn’t known as a bookworm. Oh, you said ‘avid’ student. How kind of you.” Jonah adding, “He did know how to party and beguile women and proclaim free speech. That’s what pissed off those Brownshirts who clubbed him. Brain swelling, trauma; the doctors tried drilling to relieve the pressure but failed. I’m sorry Mrs. Feinstein, I wish I could have saved him.” Herbert stepping forward, “I wish I’d known your son Mrs. Feinstein. I’m a reporter hoping to expose that fascist element in Europe. Make something of your brave son’s death as a warning for our nation.”

6:30pm: Herbert follows Jonah into the kitchen hoping to expand his notes when he hears a clatter outside; trashcans being tumbled. Guests in the livingroom might have heard the growing wail of police sirens. As Herbert goes to the backdoor to investigate, Jonah tries to peek out the kitchen window. A form sways in the alley, beside a row of trashcans. Herbert cautiously steps outside as Jonah pokes his head out the door behind him, “If you’re looking for food, we’ve got a spread on the table inside. A wake for our dear friend Gerald.” And that’s when the man turns around; and when Herbert and Jonah squeal in fright [Sanity check – failed]:

a straight-jacketed man before them with his eyes gouged out! Helen having come to investigate the noise, recognizing the man, “Michael? Michael! Oh my God! What happened to you?!” Her cries drawing others toward the kitchen and backyard scene. Just as the police arrive on scene, “Nothing to see here folks; we’ve got it under control.”

Unnerving to all as Michael mumbles while locking vision on each of them. The blindman making eye contact! “Huge…stars…living…waiting…drawing closer…” As 2 policemen lead the crazed man away, the police sergeant reassures the crowd, “Sorry to disturb you folks. We’ll be out of your way soon. No threat here.”

The sergeant wanting to leave and avoid questions till the well-dressed Arthur inquires, “That man is related to Mrs. Feinstein who owns this house. She’s obviously distraught at his plight. What happened? What can I say to calm her as she is already dealing with her son’s death and funeral?” The sergeant offers, “I can’t tell you much. He was admitted to St. Mary’s hospital early this morning, around 1am. We picked him up an hour ago and was transporting him to Arkham Sanitarium when he escaped. Damnedest thing the way he ran down the street as if he had eyes. What happened to them; you’ll have to ask the doctors.”

As the police lead Michael away, Herbert notices the blindman starring at one spot in the yard. Curious, he steps toward the spot where suddenly a butterfly takes flight. He shudders in disbelief. Inside, a hysterical Helen can only ask, “That was my brother Michael Farr; retired ship navigator. I saw him just yesterday. He was fine. He was supposed to be a pallbearer today. What happened?! Oh please, find out who did this to him.” Arthur is quick to reassure her, “I’m sure the doctor and reporter will join Jonah and I in our fervent efforts to get to the bottom of this.”

Hebert is already questioning, “If his accident occurred this morning, surely there’s something in the evening paper. I’ll check with my newspaper.” And that’s when Jonah steps forward with the neighbor’s evening paper in hand, “You mean this article (Disturbance in Southside)?”

The story of the early morning unholy screeching of a deranged man who had apparently lost control of his senses and hideously blinded and mutilated himself. The scene – the Simpson Apartments, #5, in the lower Southside. Arthur offering to drive all to his estate, “Hop in my Bentley. I need to swing by my estate to arm myself before I go on a man-made jungle safari.” His guests gawk at his trophy room full of stuffed exotic animals. Till realization strikes Jonah as he nervously glances in each corner of the room, “You, you don’t have any snakes by chance?!” [A reference to his Trans-Atlantic encounters.]

7:30pm: Herbert seems to remember, “Southside is predominantly an Italian neighborhood. Poorer part of town, so expect a degree of squalor.”  Arthur slows as he turns onto Walnut Street to avoid the throng of kids playing stickball in the streets under the lights. The game coming to a quick halt as the urchin climb on the car running-boards to gawk inside. Arthur flips coins to 2 of the larger boys, “Keep an eye on her; wouldn’t want any smudges or missing parts. Now where is the Simpson apartments and what can you tell me about last night?” Distracted, the kids fail to notice Jonah absentmindedly pick up their game ball and stuff it in his coat. But the men do notice the clean street and evidence of recent construction: scaffolding, new brick sidewalks, and even new light poles that cast a bright green-tinted illumination. “So, what happened to the squalor?” Behind them, the kids begin to brawl, “What’d you do with the ball. We were winning. Cheaters!”

As they open the front-door, a waft of zesty Italian aromas overwhelms them, drawing them to apartment #1. “Miss Cilauro, sorry to disturb you but we are investigating the earlier disturbance.” The short, rotund woman all smiles and friendly, “So you heard about my cooking and come to be feed?! Sit, sit, I fix you a plate. Ah, you want to know about Farr. He’s a divorcee; no-a heaven for him. Always knew him not right in the head. Stays up all hours peeking thru that scope. Stars or does he look across the streets into windows? Peeking Tommy Farr. God made him scratch his own eyes out. You hurry and you can catch those men cleaning his room. Ask what they found.”

2^nd floor, apartment #5, the door closed; scrapping noises from inside. Jonah nonchalantly opens the door and turns to gag at the overwhelming stench of ammonia. Two men in white overalls (now with streaks of pinkish stains) with mops in hand turn to see the interruption. “You from the police? We’re not done yet.” Dr. Joseph stepping forward, “I’m the family doctor come to find out what happened.” With a wink between them, the men describe with great morbidity the prior events, “Why, don’t you know old man Farr done go crazy. Drinking bad hooch I’d guess. Lead poisoning maybe. Anyway, he begins screaming and wailing as he rakes his sharpened fingernails across his eyes. Then flings the blood across the walls and curtains ya see. Plucks them eyeballs right out. 

Be mighty kind of ya to help us look for them. Evidence. Wait, wait, that’s right. Ain’t gonna find them; he ate em! Plopped them in his mouth and crunched down. ‘Pop, pop.’” Poor doctor Joseph already bent over the mop bucket, hurling. Laughter.

Herbert is lost in thought writing every detail provided by the cleaners. Till their laughter reveals their prank.  Meanwhile, Arthur and Jonah take the offer to search. Jonah at the telescope by the window, recording angles of elevation and azimuth, “I didn’t study astronomy but maybe by applying math to star-charts, I can determine what he was looking at.” And that’s when he finds the crumpled paper stuck inside the large end of the scope. His blood-splattered last notes: 

gazing at Pleiades and the rings of Saturn, complaining how the new lights interfere with his view, hallucinations, shadows crossing the rings, then mindless rants and scribbles about, “No, stop, evil putty jelly, coming, yellow, yellow, red in the middle, close my eyes, only one way.” Curiosity getting the better of him, Jonah bends to look into the scope. Turning the focus dial till it pops off and into his coat pocket.

As they exit the room, they bump into another resident, “What the hell is that smell?! I swear it’s getting harder to get a good night’s sleep nowadays. What with Star-boy last night and the milkman a few nights back. I don’t know his name; I think the truck label is Caruso’s Milkmaid.”

Monday, 17 April 1922: Arthur drops Jonah at the MU library as he and the others drive on to Arkham Sanitarium hoping Dr. Joseph’s credentials will gain them entrance. [with a Credit-Rating 20, he’s not that convincing] “Yes, I’m the family doctor come to see about your patient Michael Farr. No, I don’t have an appointment. Yes, I am a doctor of Psychiatry. Now see here missy, just call the attending doctor and let him decide.” And that’s when the finely dressed Arthur steps in, “Excuse us Miss…Weber… Mr. Farr escaped during transport to your fine facility and scared the daylights out of his sister. We’re hoping your doctor can shed some light on what might have happened.” Miss Weber excuses herself as she leaves to find the doctor.

“I’m Dr. Hardstrom; what can I do for you? Michael Farr? I haven’t made my rounds to him yet; he was just checked in late last night. Sedated him. Mr. Cottar you say? Well, if you care to join me as I attend to Mr. Farr. And you say your Dr. Joseph from MU? Please excuse my receptionist; she must have misread your credentials. And you sir, a reporter? I hope you find our services in good order. Speak the best of our care.” An orderly escorts them up the stairs and thru the halls to the 3^rd floor room. A small room with barred window. Michael no longer in a straight-jacket while facing the far wall. He turns at the call of his name, looking directly at each of them. Dr. Hardstrom shaken. Michael stares at something behind them as he begins to mumble. 

His ramblings growing in volume and insanity, “The star, tentacles…it’s out there…it’s coming…I found it…will they name it after me? The Farr star? Not so far; it’s coming… closer. Ha, haha, hahahaha, HAHAHAHAHA.” He collapses into insane giggling.

The trio drive to the police station to check into the other Walnut street incident. Arthur stopping to get donuts first. Herbert approaching his police contact Walter, with slipped bride, “Yeah, 2 nights ago. Police responded to screaming on Walnut Street but there is no newspaper account.” Long minutes pass till Walter returns, “Found this in the dead file. Sergeant said to can it. No harm, no foul, no need to get folks wound up. 

Neighbors called in about someone screaming and wailing in the streets around 1am. Police arrived to find one Mr. Georgio Caruso, the local milkman, having come to his senses. Hallucinations. The old boxer said he must have had some flashback of a fight. He gave his address as 108 South French Hill Street.”

Meanwhile, Jonah quickly finds the astrology section of the library and begins with the Farmer’s Almanac regarding the April night sky. Pleiades within the constellation Taurus-the-Bull, the April zodiac. No biblical event for the year. Cross-referencing his mathematic notes, he finds nothing significant of where Michael’s telescope pointed. Thus, he turns his attention to the phonebook, looking for the name ‘Caruso’ in the southside area. Then the business section for milk services. “Found it. George Caruso on South French Hill Street. Caruso’s Milkmaid business one block north.” A half-hour later, the bus drops him off near the business.

“Excuse me, is Georgio Caruso working today? Which Georgio? Uh, junior. Yes, the milkman for Walnut street. Not in? Works the night shift? Has he recovered from his episode a few nights ago? You don’t know anything about it? Is his father in? Mr. Caruso, I’m just checking up on your son. We’re good friends and I was concerned when I heard he was attacked a few days ago. Not attacked? Is he OK? Just hallucinating? Yeah, I remember how he can drink too much. He lives nearby? When does he get off work? 7am? Well, let him know I’m concerned. Yes, Jonah Franklin.”

“Going our way?” Arthur just happens to drive along East Saltonstall St. as Jonah walks west towards the Simpsons apartments. They exchange news. Arthur impatiently wanting to speak with Georgio, “So excuse me; we wake him up.” Back to 108 South French Hill St. but no-one answers the knock at the door. Jonah at the front window pushing up (unlocked) as neighbors walking past, hear the creak and turn to look. Spotting Arthur in his fine clothing and thus thinking mafia. The woman fast-walking across the street as the man raises his hands, “We didn’t see nuten.” Arthur explaining their actions. The man calling for his wife, “Alice, no need to call the cops. They just concerned about Georgio. Did you know he was attacked nights ago? Anyway sir, Georgio works the graveshift. He’s probably up the street at Frankie’s speakeasy for his sleeping juice if you know what I mean.”

Herbert is familiar with the joint and raps the proper knock to get in. Arthur tipping nicely. Belly up to the bar ordering drink. Jonah requests, “Just water with lemon. Or milk if you got it.” Frankie laughing as he calls out, “Hey, Georgio, one of your customers followed you here. Wants milk.” A round of drinks eases Georgio’s concerns, “Yeah, I had a bad one 2 nights ago. Damn new lights giving me headaches. Started seeing things. Must have been the fog. It was like jellyfish floating along the street. Chest high and higher. Thousands of them, everywhere. Floating bubbles like. Nah, no tentacles. Maybe string things hanging down. Yeah, the cops laughed at me too. I swear it’s those damn lights installed weeks ago. Headaches ever since.”

And that’s when Herbert begins to remember, “I was pulled off assignment months ago, but I seem to recall some special project the mayor ordered. Getting to the last months before the mayoral elections; probably concerned about voters. Maybe trying to buy a few votes with last minute improvements. The scaffolding left up. I’d bet a plugged nickel he plans to take the lights down as soon as the election is over.”

Once again, Jonah is dropped at the MU library as the others drive north across the river to city hall. Each on their own path to find records of the mayor’s project: November, 1921 Special Session. The City Engineer, Mr. Endicott, by request of Mayor Peabody, proposed a pilot study of a new type of council-funded street illumination for the impoverished French Hill district. Miskatonic University’s Dr. Hamlin Hayes presented three options, one a very recently developed lighting technique thought to be twice as efficient as traditional lighting methods.

1pm: Donald perking up at the name, “Hayes? MU Professor of Engineering. I consulted with him last month regarding the use of electro-shock treatment on patients. Voltage, amperage; his thoughts on what the human body could tolerate. Let’s get to campus and see what that old codger has to say for himself and these lights.”

NEXT SESSION: https://rigglew4.blogspot.com/2019/12/part-2-in-different-light-midnight.html