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Sunday, 14 November 2004  
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The wish

The Monkey's Paw - ... 

Continued from last week

The son winked at his mother, then put on a solemn face and sat down at the piano. He struck a few ominous chords. Mr. White, smiling at what he was about to do, held the talisman up in his right hand.

"I wish for five thousand dollars," said Mr. White distinctly.

A loud crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a shuddering cry from Mr. White. His wife and son ran toward him.

"It moved, he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object which was now lying on the floor. "As I wished, it twisted in my hands like a snake."

"Well, I don't see any money," said his son, as he picked up the mummified paw and placed it on the table, "and I bet I never will."

"It must have been your imagination, dear," said Mrs. White, regarding her husband anxiously.

He shook his head. "Never mind, though. There's no harm done, but it gave me a shock all the same."

They sat down by the fire again and the father and son resumed their earlier game of chess. Outside, the wind was louder than ever, and Mr. White started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. An unusual and depressing silence settled upon all three of the Whites, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night.

Cash

"I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed," said the son, as he kissed them good-night. "And something horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains."

After his parents had gone upstairs, the son sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire. After several minutes of staring into the flames, he suddenly sat up straight.

He had seen a face in the fire - a horrible and simian face! Then he smiled and gave a little uneasy laugh, mocking himself for getting caught up in the atmosphere of magic that had gripped the family that evening. He reached behind him for his glass of water, his eyes still on the fire. His hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his shirt and went up to bed.

In the brightness of the autumn sun the next morning, as it streamed over the breakfast table, the son laughed at his nervousness of the night before. There was an air of wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked last night, and the dirty, shrivelled little monkey's paw had been tossed on the kitchen counter with a carelessness which made it obvious that nobody in the house really believed it was magic.

"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs White. "The idea of our listening to such nonsense! How could magical wishes be granted in these modern days? And if they could, how could five thousand dollars hurt us any?"

"It might drop on his head from the sky," said the son, teasing.

"Morris said his wishes happened so naturally," said Mr. White, "that I've started to believe he made them happen himself, simply from having the confidence."

Spend

"Well, don't spend all the money before I come back," said the son, as he rose from the table. "It might make you horrible and greedy and we would have to pretend we didn't know you."

His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him walk down the road towards the factory where he worked every weekday. She returned to the breakfast table and sat down with her husband, who having retired the year before could now spend his mornings leisurely.

The day passed normally. After breakfast, Mrs. White arranged pictures in the family photo album, and visited her friend down the street. Mr. White worked in the garden. Around dinner time, the old couple sat down to dinner as a twosome. Their son was late coming home.

"He's probably scaring the young ladies at the factory with his tales of the monkey's paw," said Mrs. White with an indulgent smile.

"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself a glass of milk. "But for all that, the thing moved in my hand. That I'll swear to."

"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.

"I say it did," replied her husband. "There was no thought about it; I had just - what's the matter?"

Watching

Mrs. White did not answer her husband. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided manner at the house, appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter.

Suddenly remembering her husband's wish for five thousand dollars, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed and wore an expensive cashmere overcoat. Three times he paused at their front gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White hurried to the door to meet his knock.

She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at his hostess and listened in a preoccupied fashion as she apologised for the mess in the room. She then waited as patiently as she could for him to state his business, but he was at first strangely silent.

"I - was asked to come by," he said at last. He stooped and picked a piece of cotton from his trousers. His movements were nervous. "I come from Maw and Meggins."

Mrs. White started. That was the name of the factory where her son worked. "Is anything the matter?" she asked breathlessly. "Has anything happened to my boy? What is it? What is it?"

Panic

Her husband interrupted her panic. "Now calm down, honey" he said hastily. "Sit down and don't jump to conclusions. You haven't brought us bad news, I'm sure, sir" and he eyed the other man carefully.

"I'm sorry -" began the visitor.

"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother.

The visitor nodded his head. "Badly hurt," he said quietly, "but he is not in any pain."

"Oh, thank God!" said Mrs. White, clasping her hands. "Thank God for that! Thank - "

She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of what he had said dawned upon her. She looked into the stranger's eyes and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her trembling hand upon his. There was a long silence.

Caught

"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor finally, in a low voice.

"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes."

Mr. White stood staring blankly out at the window, and seizing his wife's hand between his own, clutched it tightly to his chest, pulling her towards him.

"He is our only child," said Mr. White, turning to look at the visitor. "Our only boy." The stranger coughed and looked down, not meeting the eyes of Mr. White. "The firm wished me to convey their sincere sympathies to you on your great loss," he said. "I hope that you will understand I am only their employee and merely obeying orders."

There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring. The look on the husband's face was angry and confused. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "What orders are you obeying?"

The stranger turned and looked at Mr. White. "I have been told to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility," he said. "They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son's services they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation."

Mr. White dropped his wife's hand and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, "How much?"

"Five thousand dollars," was the answer.

Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands like a sightless man, and dropped in a senseless heap to the floor.

... Continued next week

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