Byron made a big mistake pissing off the granddaughter of Dr. Moreau. ... and what about Bob?

Byron the Bastard
by Jezzi Stewart
 ©2004 Turn Right Productions

Since I started this, I have also uncovered among my salvaged school materials several Montgomery Ward catalogs from the early '30's, so there will be more illustrations. Each chapter will, however, continue to be built around one of the original nine illustrations from "True Love Stories" of May, 1930.

This is dedicated to my fellow authors and, I hope, my friends Angel O'Hare and Maddy Bell, who have honored me by including me in their stories. You two are in this whether you like it or not! :-)

Part 3; January 1 - April 1, 1934; Angel

Over the next several days, Carol recuperated, first in the hospital and then at home. Byron was serving 90 days in the cook county Jail for public drunkenness and drunk driving. Only Angel knew the truth about what he had done, and it was consistent with her evolving plan for him that he have this little "vacation". Now all she had to do was convince Carol.

It was 10:00am on New Years Day, and Carol was sitting up in bed when Angel came in to her bedroom at Bromwood. She set the tea tray she had brought down on the night stand and took a good look at her friend. "Well. it's about damn time!" she said, hands on hips.

Carol looked good. For the first time since she'd awakened in Lake Forest Hospital, she had taken the trouble to fix herself up. She had done her hair in an attractive style and had even used some makeup. She was dressed very prettily in a pink nighty. She looked a sweet confection with a pastel blue bedspread surrounding her and propped up by pastel blue pillows. "And a fine good New Years morning to you, too, Miss Grumpy." she said to her friend laughingly, and Angel flushed guiltily. Then she turned serious. "1933 was such a horrible year for everyone in so many ways, and, of course, for me personally at the end, that 1934 just has to be better. I just decided to take President Roosevelt's words to heart, 'We have nothing to fear but fear itself.'" She noticed Angel still standing and smiled again. "Here, come sit by me and fix us the tea."

Angel moved to do so. She fixed Earl Gray for herself, plain, and green tea for Carol, two sugars, as she liked it. They sipped in silence for a moment, broken finally by Angel. "Well, I'm very glad to see my good girlfriend back." she started. "Jack and I ... all your friends ... were worried about you. How do you feel now about the ..." And she glanced at her friend's tummy, leaving the rest of the question unspoken.

Angel watched as Carol's smile disappeared. Her mouth didn't slide all the way into a frown, though, she noted with relief. "The babies?" Carol asked. "I feel sad, of course, but not so bad as I would if they had been more developed. And I am SO angry at Byron!" She began to get herself worked up. "That bastard! Do you know, Angel, that he had the nerve to call me from jail last night and apologize ... and then ask me to get him out!? Angel, he murdered my babies!" She broke into tears, apparently more upset about the loss of the babies than she had thought. "An...and I still love him. Ohmygawd, Angel, what am I going to do about Byron?"

This was what Angel had been waiting for, and while holding her friends hand, she took advantage of the question. "What if you could teach him a lesson, Carol? A REAL lesson. what if you could make him walk a mile in your shoes ... your high heeled shoes!" She watched as confusion replaced anger on her friend's face.

"M...my shoes?" And then there was an abrupt switch to giggles. "And my dress ... with lipstick? Oh, wouldn't he look silly! Are you saying we dress him up like a girl? And take some pictures, maybe? Are you suggesting blackmail? Oh, he's the right size, not too big; he might even be cute!"

Angel giggled too. She knew Carol loved her giggling; most people did. She didn't know why, but it had sort of become her trademark, and she had learned to use it to her advantage. Soon the two women were giggling in unison, one innocently, the other deliberately to get her friend in the right mood. Finally when she knew she'd put carol in a receptive mood, Angel began. "Oh, Carol, she said between giggles, "he WOULD look sooo funny, but that's not what I meant. We might have a hold over "her" for awhile but there're too many chances "he" might find a way out, and get us in trouble to boot. Besides, while we might get our revenge, he wouldn't learn anything; he'd be resentful and constantly plotting escape. We need a way for "her" to be completely dependent on us for his return to manhood - although you may not want "him" back if my plan works.

"Of course I'll want him back!" said carol indignantly. "He's my husband and I do still love him." Then she giggled. "But I wouldn't mind if he endured a little girlishness first - like a period or two!" Both girls laughed, but Angel could see that carol was puzzled. "But how can we get him in the position you mentioned?" she asked. "We can't actually turn him into a girl."

"Oh, no?" Angel smiled. "Look," she said, "you still need to rest. Why don't you come to my place tomorrow around noon. Bob will be working downstairs and I'll send Tammy and TeeSee to my cousin for the day. We'll do lunch and I'll explain a little more what I have in mind for your ... husband. 'Let Carol wonder for awhile about that pause before 'husband'.' she thought. She fluffed Carol's pillows for her, kissed her on the forehead, and picked up the tea things. Carol was already snoring softly as Angel left the room. She left a book on the night stand along with a note. The note read:

Carol,
Have you read Mr. H.G. Well's book, "The Island of Doctor Moreau"? If not, or to refresh your memory, I'm leaving you a copy. It's relatively short; read it before you come tomorrow. Trust me.
Huggles, girl. Angel.

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The next day, Angel sat in her living room waiting for the doorbell to signal carol's arrival. She was dressed rather casually in a rose print shirtwaist. A medium sized victorian looking chest, approximately eighteen inches long and deep and about a foot wide rested on top of the coffee table. A split second before the doorbell rang, she got up to go answer the door. 'I must be a bit psychic.' she thought.

When she opened the door, she was once again pleased to see that her friend's appearance was back up to it's pre-Christmas standard. Carol was wearing an ankle length brown wool coat with matching gloves and hat; the hat had a little mesh veil to add a touch of extra femininity. She took off the coat revealing a brown business suit and matching pumps, and she looked very professional; the look was softened by a spray of white ruffles at her throat and wrists. "Why so formal this morning?" Angel asked, as she led her into the living room.

Carol explained that she was going to the Cook County Jail to see Byron for the first time later in the afternoon. "I want him to know that while I'm a woman and his wife" - She held up her hand so Angel could see she was still wearing her wedding ring. - I'm not going to take any more abuse from him!" She stated angrily as the two seated themselves. The trunk was positioned so that when it's lid was lifted both would be able to see inside.

"You may want to rethink your presentation for Byron after you've heard and seen mine." said Angel. "Did you read the book?"

Carol frowned. "yes, but what could that have to do with Byron? You certainly can't mean we should change him to a woman by putting him through such surgery as is mentioned in the book! That is all fiction. I've read others of Mr. Wells' books - Martians, time travel, changing animals into people; he has quite an imagination, your Mr. Wells, but a true story? Never." She paused. "besides, I could never put Byron through such pain as Dr. Moreau inflicted."

"It is true." Carol smiled and looked up expecting her friend to be smiling, but she wasn't. Angel continued. "The island was and is real. Dr. Moreau was real as well as his sadistic experiments. He did indeed, through surgical vivisection, create the semi-human monsters described in the book. Edward Prendick, although that is not his real name, was real, and his nephew did tell a real story to Mr. H.G. Wells. I know, because Dr. Moreau was my great uncle and his brother, my grandfather. His son, my father, started Moreau imports. He passed on to me his father's story as well as his legacy, the trunk you see before you."

Carol was shocked. "Bu ... but no brother was mentioned in the book."

"Dr. Moreau and my grandfather, also Dr. Moreau, Bernard to his Frederick, had a falling out before Mr. Prendick arrived on the island, a falling out of such dimensions that I am not surprised that Frederick did not mention his brother to him. You see, my grandfather was sickened by the pain inflicted by his brother upon the helpless animals of the island; he believed that what his brother was trying to achieve by surgery, he could achieve with much less pain by chemical means. He retreated to the caves beneath the islands, established his laboratory, and conducted his own experiments. Ultimately he was much more successful than his brother." Here Angel lifted the lid of the trunk.

The top of the interior of the trunk was a tray divided into twenty-seven two by four inch compartments. About two-thirds of the compartments held two two inch diameter cork stoppered blue glass bottles, and the rest held four one inch diameter bottles of the same color; all the bottles were approximately three and a half inches tall, the stoppers increasing their height to four inches. There were hand written labels on some of the bottles, typed labels on others. There were three empty compartments, dust circles on the bottom showing each had contained two bottles. Angel Spoke. "There is another identical tray beneath this one. the bottom of the trunk is filled with my great uncle's journals and medical notes and my father's journal."

Carol giggled nervously. "Love potions, Angel?" ...