Finding Strength

Finding Strength

(Note: This story was entered in a GlimmerTrain writing contest. I have borrowed the names of the characters (Victor, Elizabeth and Henry) from Mary Shelley's great story 'Frankenstein' published in 1818. Claire is Mary's step-sister who ran off with Mary's husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and had a lurid affair after Mary gave birth to a premature baby which died. The ending will tie it all together.)

P.L. Ellars


“OK, buddy, here ya are, 1818 Shelley Street. Hoo! what a night. That’s some rain, ain’t it?” the cabbie said as he shifted the taxi into Park.
The rain beat down on the roof of the cab. The fare, a slender man in his early twenties, was staring intently through the window at the house. He was deep in thought. A few seconds passed and the young man made no movement to leave.

“Oh, God,” he was thinking to himself, “this is it. What will they do? It’s not like Elizabeth and I had any control over this; like we planned it or anything.”

“Hey pal, we’re here. Ya owe me $18.60 for the fare. Kinda wet out there, ain’t it?” the cabbie said to him.

“They may never speak to me and Elizabeth again.” the young man thought to himself. “What if they don’t want to see us ever again? I wouldn’t blame them. Oh, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, I love you so much. How could we not have seen this coming?” The rain ran down the cab’s window like tears, blurring his vision of the front door under the porch light.

“Come on buddy, I got to get goin’ here. That’ll be $18.60.”


“All right. Just give me a second, will you?” the young man said to the cabbie. Looking back towards the house, he returned to his thoughts. “I can see Dad now, as soon as he opens the door he’ll be glad to see me. Probably say something corny like, “Victor! Come on in before you melt. Claire! come down, Victor’s here!” and then his Mom’s voice from upstairs; “Keep your wig on, Henry, I’m coming.” Victor knew that once he told his parents of his and Elizabeth’s wedding plans, they would be devastated. Devastated. Ha! That would be an understatement; he might as well rip their hearts out then and there.

Victor gave the cabbie $22.00 and slowly started to get out of the taxi.

“You better hurry pal, if ya don’t wanta get soaked!” the cabbie yelled after him.

The cab drove off into the night leaving Victor standing on the sidewalk staring at his parent’s house. His eyes wandered up to the second floor. He tried to look into his old room, to picture himself living, sleeping there again; safe in his room again. Oh, as a child, how he loved his room. His parents let him decorate it the way he wanted; it was his. After tonight, he thought, he will never see it again.

He slowly started to walk towards the front door. “I can do this. I have to do this. Elizabeth and I are too much in love. We can’t have it any other way; I wish we didn’t have to hurt them, though.” His thoughts flashed to Elizabeth. He pictured her sitting alone back at his apartment. Waiting. Waiting for his return. They would be together then. Comforting each other. Holding hands. Oh, God, this is harder than I thought it would be.

Tears started to run down his cheeks. Thank God it is raining.

He went up the few stairs and wiped his nose on his sleeve before ringing the doorbell. “Oh, Elizabeth, this is for us.”

He could hear his Dad’s footsteps padding up to the door and then he saw the curtain drawn back and his father’s face looking through the glass to see who it was that was calling at this time of night and in the rain. The father’s face lit up when he recognized his son standing on the porch. Victor heard the clicking of the lock being opened.

“Victor, for gosh sakes, come on in before you catch pneumonia! You’re soaking wet. Get in here quick! Claire, bring a towel, it’s Victor, quick, before he melts.” Hearing his Dad say that caused a lump in Victor’s throat. He thought he was going to be sick right there; how could he and Elizabeth do this to them?

“Hi Dad, I’ve got something I need to talk to you and Mom about and it can’t wait. I’ve agonized about this for…”

“Sure, sure, son, but come on in first. You don’t have to tell us out here on the porch.”

“Hi Mom, thanks for the towel.” Victor used the towel to quickly wipe away the rain and tears from his face.

“So, what’s up, son? What’s so important?”

“It’s about me… about me and Elizabeth, Dad, Mom.”

“Elizabeth? How is your sister?”