NaNoWriMo 2006 novel. Writing 50,000 words in 30 days. Quality may suffer.
Chapter 5 ' Strange Jewellery
The Journey north to Providence was a pleasant one, Montague, who had not expected to be travelling whilst in America, was forced to whittle down his provisions to one suitcase and leave the rest with the hotel. He met the Willetts, Mister Ward, and Mister Lovecraft at the station where they had already reserved a compartment on the train.
The train was soon out of the city and speeding through Connecticut forests, between the trees Long Island Sound flashed lazy and silver in the bright sunshine. They opened the window and Montague breathed deeply the fresh sea air before sitting back and lighting his pipe and enjoying the scenery. Lovecraft and Miss Willett were discussing the geography of New England, frequently insisting that he must see this, or take a trip to that, or spend some time at the other although not now but in the fall when the colours were something to see. Montague was content to let these instructions wash over him and enjoy the conversation without participating. Miss Willett seemed, by dint of sheer persistence, to have coaxed Lovecraft out of his shell a bit, and the young man waxed lyrically about the pastoral beauties of his home area, from its majestic mountains to its rolling forests, to its historic shoreline, to its idyllic small towns. That was until Charlie Ward joined in the conversation and described the Willett estate he managed in Maine, at that point Lovecraft simply clammed up, he made no attempt to compete for Lucy's attention and instead, head resting in his hands, watched the world go by the window.
In Providence Montague was offered lodgings with the Willett's friends which he accepted, Lovecraft said he must returned home and check on his mother, he declined to go out that night and indeed the rest of the party were too tired after the journey and preferred to stay in. They all had an early night.
The following morning the Willetts and Ward departed for Boston after breakfast. Before they went they insisted that Montague must come up and join them there as soon as he was free.
'This business at the library should not take long,' said Montague, 'a day at the most. After that I intend to head north to the area around Salem to see if I can't aid Mister Lovecraft with some concern of his own, when that is concluded I should be free.'
'Well just follow the road north and you will come to Kennebunk,' said Charlie Ward, 'you have our number, our address, everything?'
'I do.'
'Well then you have no excuses, we shall prepare a room and you will be welcome whenever you turn up.'
'Do bring Howard with you if you can persuade him,' said Lucy, 'it would not be the same without him.'
'I suspect you have a better chance of persuading him than I do,' said Montague.
'Perhaps,' said the girl, 'but you will be there and I will not, and god knows I have tried but I cannot get a commitment out of him.'
'Perhaps the young man has other demands on his time dear,' said Mrs Willett, 'you should not bully him into coming if he does not wish to.'
'What other demands?' said Lucy, 'Charlie said he was virtually a recluse.'
'A recluse may have good reasons for being so,' said Mister Ward.
'But it is not natural for him to be stuck in his room all day,' complained the girl, 'we should persuade him out if we can.'
'I will do what I can,' said Montague.
'Come on,' said Ward, 'we had better leave if we intend to catch the early train.'
The three of them and Montague bid their goodbyes and promised to meet up again soon. Lucy kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear 'look after him won't you.'
'I will,' said Montague.
The young man in question called at about noon full of apologies for being so late, 'some business with mother,' was all he would say. They decided to have some lunch before visiting the library and Lovecraft took them to a pleasant café where Montague ordered a bowl of clam chowder after having it impressed on him by the proprietor that it was the finest clam chowder in all of New England. Lovecraft declined and had a salad.
'I do not care for fish,' he said.
At the library the search was long, Lovecraft could not remember exactly which book he had seen the illustrations in and the delightful young librarian who recognised him immediately and addressed him by his first name did not recognise his descriptions of it and could only point them at the local history section. They set about systematically checking through every likely book until, after nearly an hour, Lovecraft found the article he had recalled.
The engravings on the illustrated tiara were indeed of striking similarity to the engravings on Montague's sketch of the knife, right down to the strange fishlike designs. There was obviously more to the tiara than to the knife, the more ornamental object making a better canvas for its engraver's whim. The marine creatures here were very obviously fantastical monsters, weird aquatic beings that writhed about strange geometrical designs.
The accompanying text was frustratingly slight, it merely stated that the artefact was one of several items of some strange jewellery that had come into circulation in the eighteen twenties and thirties, believed to be from an uncovered pirate horde. The example was from a small collection held by Salem Historical Society. The article merely stated that the jewellery was believed to be eastern in origin.
'Eastern,' said Montague, unimpressed, 'they use eastern as a replacement for "we don't know.'
'Do you recall Mrs Willett's reaction when she saw your sketch?' asked Lovecraft.
'I do.'
'I feel a little of the same looking at this thing here, I recall I felt it when I first encountered it, which is why it made such an impression on me. A sort of repugnance, it is the monotonously aquatic nature of it which I find disagreeable.'
'Is this related to your dislike of fish?' asked Montague, chuckling.
'I think perhaps it is more the other way around, it does not seem to have any time for men, this thing, as if it was designed for these frog-fish-things. I find myself with the unmistakable and irksome sense of being ignored.'
Montague puffed on his pipe and nodded in agreement, it was a curious criticism to make but not an invalid one. 'Salem,' he said, 'isn't that near where your friend disappeared.'
'It is.'
'Shall we travel there tomorrow?'
'I think we had better,' said Lovecraft solemnly.
